Xра́брость (Courage) Pt 7/8
Title: Xра́брость (Courage)
Rating: PG-13
Status: Pt 7/8
Author Notes: Yeaaah guys, I have none more chapter, and then it's kaput on the story. I feel I've brought Blaine to a good place where I can finish things up nicely in the epilogue. You'll guys have a nice present though with the epilogue :3
The word epiphany couldn't have described the overwhelming emotions that came across Blaine. It wasn't so much Mika's death that affected his ability to love, it was his fear: his fear that Mika's tragedy would happen again, and the fear of having to come to terms with who he was, who he is, and how they differ. The rest of the session went amazingly well, with Blaine discussing how he and Kurt had gotten into their predicament, with Richard nodding and smirking at seeing Blaine so…excited.
Just as Blaine was getting up to leave, Richard stopped him. "Blaine, I'm really proud of you. You've made some serious discoveries today. Now, I want to remind you, take things with Kurt at a pace that is comfortable with you. Just because you've already slept with the kid doesn't mean it's an excuse to just go off and do it, but it should be meaningful to you. If you feel you can keep being open with him, then go for it, but if you feel any hint of confusion or fright, you tell him to slow it down, ok?"
Blaine nodded. "Thanks, Richard."
---
A month or so had gone by since that fateful week. Christmas has passed without a hitch, Blaine and Kurt taking things damn near snail-like, the closest thing they had to being what they used to be was singing along to "Baby, It's Cold Outside." A simple smile, a look of knowing, and then a quick look away. Kurt was being slightly impatient for things to start working in his favor again, but he knew better this time. He knew better than to pressure Blaine, because this is what got them in the scenario in the first place. Kurt just had to press buttons, and this time he couldn't blame it on hanging out with Finn too long. He was impatient, wanting instant gratification, especially if it came from Blaine.
So when Will Schuester came to visit Kurt at Dalton, Blaine waited outside of the door, just to hear what was going on, because as much as he trusted Kurt, he still was wary about Mr. Schue, hearing how he was more focused on finding Journey songs to sing and giving Finn and Rachel all of the solos, that he never really did much with Kurt until it was too late, until Karofsky had threatened death on his angel. Blaine stopped his thoughts just then. His angel. That was the first time he had called Kurt that, even in his mind, and he smiled at himself. He was making serious progress. Taking things slow, even if it's retroactive, was working very well for him and Kurt, and finally, things were starting to feel normal again. It was a sensation that Blaine hadn't felt in years.
When Will made a comment about him, Blaine's ears perked up. When he heard Kurt say, "Well he's gay and I'm in love with him, so I call that progress," he couldn't help but smirk. Oh Kurt, you don't know a thing about progress.
---
Chistmas break had felt like an eternity, so when New Years rolled around, and Blaine mentioned in passing that he was holding a bash at his house in Columbus, Kurt was damn near desperate for someone to go with him, which was the stipulation that Burt had put out, Carole agreeing, Mercedes had plans, and Rachel was staying in, since Finn was at Quinn's party with Santana. Kurt had gotten the whole story, both sides, from Finn and Rachel as soon as he was home, and he damn near dragged Rachel into his car before she said that she would go. Her dads were surprisingly ok with her going to a New Years party in Columbus to a boy's house that they had never met, regardless of his sexuality, though one of her fathers did smirk and raise an eyebrow, telling her to keep an eye out on Kurt, because "you never know, hunny, a bear might eat him up." Rachel looked confused, but her other father quickly coughed and told her to never mind.
On the way there, they were comparing notes about their outfits, Rachel opting out of her usual cardigan + skirt combination for a dress that Kurt had bought for her as a peace offering. It was absolutely not her normal style, but once she had slipped into it, she couldn't help but stare at her legs, seeing how short the dress reached on her thighs, and that paired with a good pair of heels, she wasn't that much of a dwarf anymore. The dress was black with sparkles, with three slits down the back, making it nigh impossible to wear a bra, but fortunately Kurt had managed to find a dress with cups in it. How he was so magical with clothing was beyond her, but she was starting to like having him as a friend, even if he was sleeping with the enemy now.
Kurt had chosen black leather pants, something that he hid in the back of his closet, saved for ~special occasions~. With a tight black McQueen tank that had chains and skulls on it - Hey, Kurt was allowed to dress how he liked, and if he dressed like an adorable couture goth kid, he would damnit - and his trademark Doc Martens, tonight would be amazing, and he was sure that he and Rachel would be the hottest ones there. Besides Blaine, of course, because he could wear a paper bag and still be sexy as all hell. Kurt blushed, continued to drive, and pretty soon, they had made it to Blaine's house in Columbus.
After some brief introductions, Kurt managed to find some bullshit reason to introduce Rachel to David, knowing that Mercedes had her eye on Wes, and he went off to get a drink. And then there was Blaine. Holy Mother of God, is he wearing bright blue skinny cords? And…fucking a. Those hot pink sunglasses. "Hey hun."
Blaine smirked, motioning cheers with his cup, taking a sip, and then grabbing Kurt with his other hand, pulling him into a kiss. Well, I could get used to this again. And then it hit Kurt. Blaine tasted like alcohol. "Are you drinking?" Blaine slurred out a "yes" and smiled, pointing to the punch bowl that Kurt was just about to grab a glass full of. "Wesh shipked it!" Kurt rolled his eyes, not because Blaine was drunk, but because he was not surprised in the least that Wes had spiked the punch with…well…something. Kurt looked beneath the table, and saw at least 4 bottles of Malibu Coconut Rum. That'd do it. Kurt couldn't help but giggle at how, well, liberated Blaine was when he happened to be incredibly shitfaced. It was almost the same Blaine that he had fallen for: the funny, jubilant, dork who wore obnoxiously bright colors that totally clashed but worked only with him. His hair was a bit more rambunctious than usual, which means that during one of their cuddle sessions, when Kurt sleepily mentioned that he should grow out his hair again, after seeing some hilarious photographs of him from his old school, that he actually listened.
Well then.
"How much have you had, Blaine?"
"Jusht a few cupsh."
"Are we talking few as in three, or few as in, I don't remember."
"Don' member."
"Ah."
Blaine had snuggled into Kurt, dragging him with him, introducing him to everyone as "thish ish my GORGEOUSH boyfriend Kurt. You should hear him shing! Itsh like an ANGEL. Like his lasht name. Hummel!" Kurt quickly got the reference, smirking. "Honey, it's himmel that is German for heaven, not hummel." Some of Blaine's friends smirked, nodding at Kurt, one friend, whose name Kurt couldn't remember, but was a pretty blonde girl with a rather large, almost tacky, gold pentacle around her neck, whispering "thank Goddess for you, Kurt. I haven't seen Blaine so happy in a while." Kurt smiled back, whispering a thank you, watching Blaine grab his friend's pentacle, slurring, "Wow, who got you that? That onesh much bigger than your lasht one!" God, how can he still be adorable completely wasted?
Once it had started to get closer to midnight, Blaine had gone from adorable to brutally honest, a lesson he had not forgotten from Puck. "Brosef, remember this. Drunk words, sober thoughts. It will always happen, and nine times out of ten, you will be involved somehow." Blaine had been sitting in the living room, singing rather loudly to "Semi Precious Weapons" by the band of the same name, playing air guitar, since he was too inebriated to actually play accurately. Kurt ended up singing along, being familiar with the band, since they had opened up for Lady Gaga when she last went on tour, and Kurt had snuck home a bright yellow shirt that said "Can't Pay My Rent, But I'm Fucking Gorgeous." When they got to the line, "I don't drink booze because my heart's explosive," Wes yelled out "LIAR", resounding in much bird flipping and pillow throwing. Finally, Blaine had playfully tapped Kurt in the head with a pillow, pulling him in for a kiss before Kurt could say anything about messing up his hair. Blaine moved soon from his lips to his ear, muttering something that sounded like it was an attempt at "I could rip those pants off of you right now." Kurt blushed, and tried to whisper out "Blaine, we should probably stop," but by this point, he was now being dragged up stairs, cat calls coming from the bottom of the stairs.
---
Kurt was now sitting on Blaine's bed, rubbing his back as he curled up in a ball, crying. This was that drunk words, sober thoughts part that Puck had warned him about.
"I'm shorry that I'm shuch a mesh, Kurt. I'm sherry that I forshed you into all of thish." Blaine had been crying so hard, he was hiccuping, and Kurt was feeding him sips from a water bottle to make sure he didn't throw up, because, one, that'd be unfortunate, and two, that'd be disgusting.
"Forced me into what, dear?"
"My Mika problemsh. My me problemsh."
He's at least forming full words now. Maybe he's starting to sober up?
"Blaine, right now is probably not the time to talk about this…" Blaine had kissed him again, desperation almost oozing out of his eyes, those antique bronze yes that sucked him in the minute he saw him. "You're too good for me, Kurt." That was pretty clear for him. Then Kurt realized, this was now sober words, sober thoughts. Oh balls. Not again.
"Seriously, Blaine, maybe now is not the time. You have a wild party going on downstairs -"
"Fuck the party. For the past month or so, we've been taking things slow, achingly slow, and it was all my fault. I was too stubborn to not know when to let things with Mika heal and pass. I kept ripping it open, and then wonder why it would hurt so much. You've done nothing but be an absolutely sweetheart to me, an angel, and I've been a hypocritical bitch."
Kurt just remained silent, watching Blaine run his fingers through his hair, curled up into a ball on his bed, holding onto his pillow as if it were a shield. Blaine's eyes were red and puffy, like when he first told Kurt about Mika, but now Kurt was teary eyed, seeing his love like this. God, hasn't he been through enough already? Way to go Kurt.
"I was so focused on my problems, that I ignored yours. You have cuts too."
Oh fuck.
"I'm not going to ask, because you may not want to talk about them, but all I did was get upset that you had them, but did nothing but mope when I saw mine. I'm done feeling sorry for myself. You make me happy Kurt, and trust me, I do love you, and I do care about you. I was just so wrapped up in my treatment and my medication, that I never figured that maybe, that maybe you were my cure."
Kurt stood up, nervous, awkward, confused, excited, so many emotions were coursing through him that he wasn't sure what was going on anymore. He went to go to the door, but the sound of a guitar stopped him. He turned, and saw Blaine sitting there, holding his acoustic, his eyes begging Kurt to stay. "Kurt…I didn't write this, but I felt it said what I needed to say. Please, just…" Kurt nodded, and Blaine started to sing.
"As soon as you stepped through my door,
I saw you for the first time all over again.
Time well spent seems lonelier then lightyears ago
I smell you for the first time all over again
I begin to remember to be alive.
So, if you don't mind, I think I'll wear my heart on my sleeve
Cause I'm tired of not being able to breathe
All of us are searching for an open arm
Well it's a shame how I curl up in the dark.
When it's the same old word giving me the spark.
I felt a loss for some time
I slipped, stumbled, but fell face first straight
Into your hands.
I hit my head on your palm
And waking up to the smell of tears drying up in the sand.
All of us are searching for an open arm
Well it's a shame how I curl up in the dark
When it's the same old word giving me the spark.
I wash my wounds with tears of hope.
All of us are searching for an open arm
Well it's a shame how I pull myself apart
When it's the same words making me run for cover into your arms…"
Blaine looked to Kurt, who had now sat down on the floor, hearing the desperation in the curly-haired boy's voice and couldn't leave. Blaine put his guitar down, kneeling in front of Kurt, grabbing his hands.
"I know I haven't been perfect. I've been moody at best, an asshole at worst, and I've made you feel to blame for my problems that I can't control. I'm doing better, I'm taking my medication, I'm going to therapy, and I've realized something Kurt. I was afraid to tell you I love you, because, well…"
Kurt swallowed, lifting up the bottom of his shirt, exposing the scars on his stomach, which he would never let Blaine know were done very shallow, just to feel the pain that Blaine had felt for so long, an experiment of sorts. Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand, sweeping his fingers over his scars. "Because I reminded you of yourself after Mika."
Blaine nodded, kissing Kurt's fingertips, rubbing his thumb over Kurt's knuckles. "But it's a New Year, and a new me. I promise, I may not be perfect, but I'm going to try, for you."
"I don't want you to be perfect, I want you to be yourself. The happy, free, dorky Blaine that I fell in love with." Blaine smiled when Kurt said that, kissing him slowly on the mouth, a shiver of happiness trailing downhill spine, like the first kiss they had shared when Blaine had dropped Kurt off after their date at Maggiano's. This was better. No secrets were kept from each other, their emotions, their problems, were out in the open, and they accepted each other for who they were. Blaine figured he was probably beaming, and smiled against Kurt's lips. "Let's go, before Wes and David batter down this door, trying to get pictures and/or video."
Kurt smirked, pushing himself up, and opening the door behind him. "You know, those two seem to have some serious repressed sexual issues."
"Kurt, shut up, you're starting to sound like my therapist."
Rating: PG-13
Status: Pt 7/8
Author Notes: Yeaaah guys, I have none more chapter, and then it's kaput on the story. I feel I've brought Blaine to a good place where I can finish things up nicely in the epilogue. You'll guys have a nice present though with the epilogue :3
The word epiphany couldn't have described the overwhelming emotions that came across Blaine. It wasn't so much Mika's death that affected his ability to love, it was his fear: his fear that Mika's tragedy would happen again, and the fear of having to come to terms with who he was, who he is, and how they differ. The rest of the session went amazingly well, with Blaine discussing how he and Kurt had gotten into their predicament, with Richard nodding and smirking at seeing Blaine so…excited.
Just as Blaine was getting up to leave, Richard stopped him. "Blaine, I'm really proud of you. You've made some serious discoveries today. Now, I want to remind you, take things with Kurt at a pace that is comfortable with you. Just because you've already slept with the kid doesn't mean it's an excuse to just go off and do it, but it should be meaningful to you. If you feel you can keep being open with him, then go for it, but if you feel any hint of confusion or fright, you tell him to slow it down, ok?"
Blaine nodded. "Thanks, Richard."
---
A month or so had gone by since that fateful week. Christmas has passed without a hitch, Blaine and Kurt taking things damn near snail-like, the closest thing they had to being what they used to be was singing along to "Baby, It's Cold Outside." A simple smile, a look of knowing, and then a quick look away. Kurt was being slightly impatient for things to start working in his favor again, but he knew better this time. He knew better than to pressure Blaine, because this is what got them in the scenario in the first place. Kurt just had to press buttons, and this time he couldn't blame it on hanging out with Finn too long. He was impatient, wanting instant gratification, especially if it came from Blaine.
So when Will Schuester came to visit Kurt at Dalton, Blaine waited outside of the door, just to hear what was going on, because as much as he trusted Kurt, he still was wary about Mr. Schue, hearing how he was more focused on finding Journey songs to sing and giving Finn and Rachel all of the solos, that he never really did much with Kurt until it was too late, until Karofsky had threatened death on his angel. Blaine stopped his thoughts just then. His angel. That was the first time he had called Kurt that, even in his mind, and he smiled at himself. He was making serious progress. Taking things slow, even if it's retroactive, was working very well for him and Kurt, and finally, things were starting to feel normal again. It was a sensation that Blaine hadn't felt in years.
When Will made a comment about him, Blaine's ears perked up. When he heard Kurt say, "Well he's gay and I'm in love with him, so I call that progress," he couldn't help but smirk. Oh Kurt, you don't know a thing about progress.
---
Chistmas break had felt like an eternity, so when New Years rolled around, and Blaine mentioned in passing that he was holding a bash at his house in Columbus, Kurt was damn near desperate for someone to go with him, which was the stipulation that Burt had put out, Carole agreeing, Mercedes had plans, and Rachel was staying in, since Finn was at Quinn's party with Santana. Kurt had gotten the whole story, both sides, from Finn and Rachel as soon as he was home, and he damn near dragged Rachel into his car before she said that she would go. Her dads were surprisingly ok with her going to a New Years party in Columbus to a boy's house that they had never met, regardless of his sexuality, though one of her fathers did smirk and raise an eyebrow, telling her to keep an eye out on Kurt, because "you never know, hunny, a bear might eat him up." Rachel looked confused, but her other father quickly coughed and told her to never mind.
On the way there, they were comparing notes about their outfits, Rachel opting out of her usual cardigan + skirt combination for a dress that Kurt had bought for her as a peace offering. It was absolutely not her normal style, but once she had slipped into it, she couldn't help but stare at her legs, seeing how short the dress reached on her thighs, and that paired with a good pair of heels, she wasn't that much of a dwarf anymore. The dress was black with sparkles, with three slits down the back, making it nigh impossible to wear a bra, but fortunately Kurt had managed to find a dress with cups in it. How he was so magical with clothing was beyond her, but she was starting to like having him as a friend, even if he was sleeping with the enemy now.
Kurt had chosen black leather pants, something that he hid in the back of his closet, saved for ~special occasions~. With a tight black McQueen tank that had chains and skulls on it - Hey, Kurt was allowed to dress how he liked, and if he dressed like an adorable couture goth kid, he would damnit - and his trademark Doc Martens, tonight would be amazing, and he was sure that he and Rachel would be the hottest ones there. Besides Blaine, of course, because he could wear a paper bag and still be sexy as all hell. Kurt blushed, continued to drive, and pretty soon, they had made it to Blaine's house in Columbus.
After some brief introductions, Kurt managed to find some bullshit reason to introduce Rachel to David, knowing that Mercedes had her eye on Wes, and he went off to get a drink. And then there was Blaine. Holy Mother of God, is he wearing bright blue skinny cords? And…fucking a. Those hot pink sunglasses. "Hey hun."
Blaine smirked, motioning cheers with his cup, taking a sip, and then grabbing Kurt with his other hand, pulling him into a kiss. Well, I could get used to this again. And then it hit Kurt. Blaine tasted like alcohol. "Are you drinking?" Blaine slurred out a "yes" and smiled, pointing to the punch bowl that Kurt was just about to grab a glass full of. "Wesh shipked it!" Kurt rolled his eyes, not because Blaine was drunk, but because he was not surprised in the least that Wes had spiked the punch with…well…something. Kurt looked beneath the table, and saw at least 4 bottles of Malibu Coconut Rum. That'd do it. Kurt couldn't help but giggle at how, well, liberated Blaine was when he happened to be incredibly shitfaced. It was almost the same Blaine that he had fallen for: the funny, jubilant, dork who wore obnoxiously bright colors that totally clashed but worked only with him. His hair was a bit more rambunctious than usual, which means that during one of their cuddle sessions, when Kurt sleepily mentioned that he should grow out his hair again, after seeing some hilarious photographs of him from his old school, that he actually listened.
Well then.
"How much have you had, Blaine?"
"Jusht a few cupsh."
"Are we talking few as in three, or few as in, I don't remember."
"Don' member."
"Ah."
Blaine had snuggled into Kurt, dragging him with him, introducing him to everyone as "thish ish my GORGEOUSH boyfriend Kurt. You should hear him shing! Itsh like an ANGEL. Like his lasht name. Hummel!" Kurt quickly got the reference, smirking. "Honey, it's himmel that is German for heaven, not hummel." Some of Blaine's friends smirked, nodding at Kurt, one friend, whose name Kurt couldn't remember, but was a pretty blonde girl with a rather large, almost tacky, gold pentacle around her neck, whispering "thank Goddess for you, Kurt. I haven't seen Blaine so happy in a while." Kurt smiled back, whispering a thank you, watching Blaine grab his friend's pentacle, slurring, "Wow, who got you that? That onesh much bigger than your lasht one!" God, how can he still be adorable completely wasted?
Once it had started to get closer to midnight, Blaine had gone from adorable to brutally honest, a lesson he had not forgotten from Puck. "Brosef, remember this. Drunk words, sober thoughts. It will always happen, and nine times out of ten, you will be involved somehow." Blaine had been sitting in the living room, singing rather loudly to "Semi Precious Weapons" by the band of the same name, playing air guitar, since he was too inebriated to actually play accurately. Kurt ended up singing along, being familiar with the band, since they had opened up for Lady Gaga when she last went on tour, and Kurt had snuck home a bright yellow shirt that said "Can't Pay My Rent, But I'm Fucking Gorgeous." When they got to the line, "I don't drink booze because my heart's explosive," Wes yelled out "LIAR", resounding in much bird flipping and pillow throwing. Finally, Blaine had playfully tapped Kurt in the head with a pillow, pulling him in for a kiss before Kurt could say anything about messing up his hair. Blaine moved soon from his lips to his ear, muttering something that sounded like it was an attempt at "I could rip those pants off of you right now." Kurt blushed, and tried to whisper out "Blaine, we should probably stop," but by this point, he was now being dragged up stairs, cat calls coming from the bottom of the stairs.
---
Kurt was now sitting on Blaine's bed, rubbing his back as he curled up in a ball, crying. This was that drunk words, sober thoughts part that Puck had warned him about.
"I'm shorry that I'm shuch a mesh, Kurt. I'm sherry that I forshed you into all of thish." Blaine had been crying so hard, he was hiccuping, and Kurt was feeding him sips from a water bottle to make sure he didn't throw up, because, one, that'd be unfortunate, and two, that'd be disgusting.
"Forced me into what, dear?"
"My Mika problemsh. My me problemsh."
He's at least forming full words now. Maybe he's starting to sober up?
"Blaine, right now is probably not the time to talk about this…" Blaine had kissed him again, desperation almost oozing out of his eyes, those antique bronze yes that sucked him in the minute he saw him. "You're too good for me, Kurt." That was pretty clear for him. Then Kurt realized, this was now sober words, sober thoughts. Oh balls. Not again.
"Seriously, Blaine, maybe now is not the time. You have a wild party going on downstairs -"
"Fuck the party. For the past month or so, we've been taking things slow, achingly slow, and it was all my fault. I was too stubborn to not know when to let things with Mika heal and pass. I kept ripping it open, and then wonder why it would hurt so much. You've done nothing but be an absolutely sweetheart to me, an angel, and I've been a hypocritical bitch."
Kurt just remained silent, watching Blaine run his fingers through his hair, curled up into a ball on his bed, holding onto his pillow as if it were a shield. Blaine's eyes were red and puffy, like when he first told Kurt about Mika, but now Kurt was teary eyed, seeing his love like this. God, hasn't he been through enough already? Way to go Kurt.
"I was so focused on my problems, that I ignored yours. You have cuts too."
Oh fuck.
"I'm not going to ask, because you may not want to talk about them, but all I did was get upset that you had them, but did nothing but mope when I saw mine. I'm done feeling sorry for myself. You make me happy Kurt, and trust me, I do love you, and I do care about you. I was just so wrapped up in my treatment and my medication, that I never figured that maybe, that maybe you were my cure."
Kurt stood up, nervous, awkward, confused, excited, so many emotions were coursing through him that he wasn't sure what was going on anymore. He went to go to the door, but the sound of a guitar stopped him. He turned, and saw Blaine sitting there, holding his acoustic, his eyes begging Kurt to stay. "Kurt…I didn't write this, but I felt it said what I needed to say. Please, just…" Kurt nodded, and Blaine started to sing.
"As soon as you stepped through my door,
I saw you for the first time all over again.
Time well spent seems lonelier then lightyears ago
I smell you for the first time all over again
I begin to remember to be alive.
So, if you don't mind, I think I'll wear my heart on my sleeve
Cause I'm tired of not being able to breathe
All of us are searching for an open arm
Well it's a shame how I curl up in the dark.
When it's the same old word giving me the spark.
I felt a loss for some time
I slipped, stumbled, but fell face first straight
Into your hands.
I hit my head on your palm
And waking up to the smell of tears drying up in the sand.
All of us are searching for an open arm
Well it's a shame how I curl up in the dark
When it's the same old word giving me the spark.
I wash my wounds with tears of hope.
All of us are searching for an open arm
Well it's a shame how I pull myself apart
When it's the same words making me run for cover into your arms…"
Blaine looked to Kurt, who had now sat down on the floor, hearing the desperation in the curly-haired boy's voice and couldn't leave. Blaine put his guitar down, kneeling in front of Kurt, grabbing his hands.
"I know I haven't been perfect. I've been moody at best, an asshole at worst, and I've made you feel to blame for my problems that I can't control. I'm doing better, I'm taking my medication, I'm going to therapy, and I've realized something Kurt. I was afraid to tell you I love you, because, well…"
Kurt swallowed, lifting up the bottom of his shirt, exposing the scars on his stomach, which he would never let Blaine know were done very shallow, just to feel the pain that Blaine had felt for so long, an experiment of sorts. Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand, sweeping his fingers over his scars. "Because I reminded you of yourself after Mika."
Blaine nodded, kissing Kurt's fingertips, rubbing his thumb over Kurt's knuckles. "But it's a New Year, and a new me. I promise, I may not be perfect, but I'm going to try, for you."
"I don't want you to be perfect, I want you to be yourself. The happy, free, dorky Blaine that I fell in love with." Blaine smiled when Kurt said that, kissing him slowly on the mouth, a shiver of happiness trailing downhill spine, like the first kiss they had shared when Blaine had dropped Kurt off after their date at Maggiano's. This was better. No secrets were kept from each other, their emotions, their problems, were out in the open, and they accepted each other for who they were. Blaine figured he was probably beaming, and smiled against Kurt's lips. "Let's go, before Wes and David batter down this door, trying to get pictures and/or video."
Kurt smirked, pushing himself up, and opening the door behind him. "You know, those two seem to have some serious repressed sexual issues."
"Kurt, shut up, you're starting to sound like my therapist."