Disclaimer: I own nothing at all, glee and characters are property of Ryan Murphy and Fox

When It Was You And Me

For Blaine's natural understanding of the order of things, it had all gone too fast. Over the last weeks or months, really, a quiet emotion had begun to settle somewhere in the pit of his stomach and he accepted it with indifference, nether welcoming nor ushering it away, continuing on in his life as though nothing had happened.

But when Kurt had entered the Warbler's rehearsal room not in his school uniform, but clad all in a black McQueen ensemble, that feeling had slowly begun to stir again.

It wasn't as though the sight was different. He'd seen Kurt out of the black and red stripes of Dalton many times and his fashion choices were always somewhat eccentric, but there was, this time, a sadness painted on his features that troubled Blaine. When his eyes widen, compassion and sorrow flows through his veins.

He had never bonded with Pavarotti. The sadness for the bird's demise is there, yet it isn't one of the most prominent things on his mind. It's Kurt choking up mid-sentence. The glistening tear that finds its way down his delicate, porcelain skin and falls almost gracefully, in Blaine's eyes.

He wants so much to hug the younger boy. To hold him and tell him everything would be alright, that things will turn out fine, that he would get over this, but neither the words nor the occasion find him in time for Kurt to hand a tape to Thad and wait for a soft guitar to begin playing. Blaine recognises the tune almost immediately, a second before forgetting everything. The moment Kurt's voice begins ringing through the room, soft and subtle, like a breeze caressing the ocean, free and so captivating, yet only fleeting and barely audible at first, before it starts to surge upward, gathering in strength and so, in emotion.

As Warbler's did, they all fall into the harmony easily and Blaine with them, his voice urging the others to participate. It was their way of showing support. In all the time they had had Kurt, the group had learnt not to be overtly affectionate. An encouraging word sufficed where hugging would have been deemed the appropriate thing to do, laughter was enough where Dalton conformity called for a clap on the back or a playful punch to show appreciation. To sing in support was what they did now, where others would expect to be embraced from all sides or looked at pityingly. They know Kurt would not want that.

And Blaine falls into the routine easily, even though he had not been harmonising since his first solo. With Kurt's voice, it seems so easy to do.

Into the light of the dark, black night

And suddenly his voice gives out. The line brings something to him, stirs the creature that had lived inside him for all these months. And this time, indifference will not suffice as a response. Again, the rest of the group falls back into harmony as Kurt's voice drifts through the room once again, but Blaine shifts in his seat uneasily, his brow's furrowed in sudden confusion and sympathy.

He can not not for the life of him remember this feeling. In all his life, nothing had ever caused him this much... perplexity. He had heard Kurt's voice before, of course. The solo audition. In the backups for all the songs, his voice was always a prominent presence, but this... this was so different. But there is a sudden impulse inside him, that urges him to stand, urges him to go over to the boy and just hold him and never let him go. Whether it is protectiveness, compassion or something else, Blaine can't tell. It seemed like a mixture and it makes his stomach flutter and his knees weaken, like the feeling he always gets before exams but, oh, so much better.

So he sits, a smile forming on his lips. Not knowing starts to become incomprehensible and his mind is oh so clear and-

The music stops. For a minute, he sits there, a smile impervious and yet subtle enough not to be noticed on his lips.

"Thank you"

And then Kurt is gone again, muttering a few barely audible words about going to get some tissues.

Blaine knows he can't stay here. Warbler's practice is far from over, but he needs to breathe somewhere. Somewhere far away from the boy who had stopped the world for him just now.

"Where are you going?"

"Air" Blaine rasps at Wes in response before all but fleeing the room and leaving the doors wide open for the rest of the group to stare after the slim figure as he runs down the hallway, hand covering his mouth, disappearing around the corner that leads to the courtyard.

"Well, at least that's one issue out of the way, finally" One of the less startled Warblers mutters, an impish grin on his face.

Rain pelts down from starry, grey clouds that hang low in the dark blue sky, obscuring all light and brightness. It barely bothers Blaine as it streams down, soaking his Blazer and pants within less than fifteen seconds. But neither the sharp, piercing gusts of wind that make his hair stand on end and his skin freeze as though someone had slid ice across it, nor the ever falling rain that seems to seek refuge in every millimetre of his clothing, seems important to the Junior Warbler.

Kurt.

It seems so natural now. Blaine lets himself fall against a nearby tree, his hands buried in his pockets and clenched in something that isn't fear or anger but sheer confusion. How could he not have known?

He looks down at the grass, turning a darker shade of itself in the nourishing rain, as he lets the string of thoughts run freely, gaze cast down as though the grass might provide an answer. All it leaves is an irritation at its failure to procure an explanation.

"What's that?"

"I'm decorating Pavarotti's casket"

"Well finish up", Blaine shifts from one foot to the other as Kurt lifts his head to look at him. "I have a perfect song for a number, we should practice."

"Do tell"

The request scares him momentarily. What if Kurt noticed? What if he realised just what Blaine was trying to say?

Then again, wasn't that the whole point?

The small voice in his head sounds annoyingly like Wes. His friend had been insufferable when it came to the subject of Kurt lately. Repeatedly asking Blaine how long he would keep up the 'façade' in front of the younger boy and Blaine had had no clue what he meant.

"Candles. By Hey Monday"

"I'm impressed" Blaine lets go of a breath he hadn't noticed holding on to as Kurt speaks and turns back to his work of art. "Your usually so Top 40"

"Oh I just... wanted something more... emotional" The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, sitting down almost awkwardly in the chair next to Kurt. How did the boy manage to make him so... forward? It was as if Blaine lost the complete control he prided himself in having, when deciding exactly what to say when and where.

"Why did you pick me to sing that song with?"

There it was. The question he had dreaded the most and had absolutely no response for. The lines he had carefully recited over and over to appear cool and suave fall from his mind rather ungracefully and crash in an unrepairable heap, leaving behind a blank looking Blaine.

"Kurt there is... a moment, When you say to yourself 'oh, there you are'." for a minute, he pauses. Uncertain. If he screwed this up, it would be an experience he had not even dared think about. "'I've been waiting for you forever.'" There is part of him that wants to return to the dapper schoolboy, wants to crawl away into the conformity of the school, blend in with the crowd. It's one of the things he did best. Accommodate to situations. When he had come to the school, he had found relief in the triviality of fitting in this school presented him with.

And yet, part of him, the part of him that was currently leading this waltz of emotions, wants to reach out, to pour his heart out to the boy and just take a chance. It wanted to dare being different for once.

Shifting slightly, Blaine takes in a deep breath as he lifts his hand and lays it on top of Kurt's. He can feel the soft skin, could easily have traced the veins on the pale surface.

"Watching you do Blackbird this week. That was the moment for me. About you."

His gaze shifts, his mind fighting against the on-storm of expected embarrassment, of nervousness and fear.

"Y-you move me... Kurt" Even saying his name does that funny thing to his stomach, making it fill with a fluttering feeling as he focuses on the surface of the table to be able to go on.

"And this duet would just be an excuse to spend more time with you."

And he looks up again. And Kurt is there, looking back at him with those wide, glasz eyes. And Blaine can see so much in them, so much pain and suffering, but above all so much love. And all he can do, in the spur of the moment decision of his life, is to lean forward. Never letting go of that hand. It isn't something Blaine has ever done before and yet it feels more natural than everything he ever had done.

There are no fireworks when their lips touched in a chaste, but determined kiss. There is no sound, no sight, except for the steadily increasing heartbeats that appear to be racing against each other. And the short, surprised intake of breath from Kurt before he feels Blaine pull away only slightly.

But he doesn't want it to end. He has no experience in kissing, no idea how to do this, but pulling Blaine back by placing his hand on the older boy's cheek, responding to the kiss less passively draws Blaine in again.

No, the kiss is not what he had seen in Broadway productions. It doesn't stop the world from moving, nor make colours dance joyously in front of his closed eyelids. But it's just pure bliss. The kind of happiness that creates an odd, idiosyncratic feeling in his abdominal area and Kurt just knows that this is so much more than those Broadway scenes he always imagined with dreamy eyes.

The rain pounds against the window outside and a few ravens are cawing in soft harmony, and close by, the distant pitter-patter of footsteps from the halls can be heard. Somewhere someone is playing the piano.

It seemed like forever before they finally break apart. For a second, Kurt leaves his eyes closed, the hand that had been placed on Blaine's cheek falling on the table with an anti-climatic thump. It would be so effortless to imagine that this had all just been a daydream ensued by the deprivation of slumber following Pavarotti's death on top of the mounds of work the school gave out on a daily basis.

And for a second, he almost lets himself believe it. Weeks of knowing Blaine, followed by weeks of the friendly feelings toward the other warbler strengthening, manifesting into something more. He had dreamt about this, had thought about this so much, the actuality of its reality is something he can not not quite comprehend yet.

"Um"

There is a smile on Blaine's face. A semi-awkward and yet raptured grin that graces his lips in a way that makes Kurt's heart skip another beat and relive the last twenty seconds of his life.

"We should, uh, practice"

A sudden burst of courage surges through Kurt.

"I thought we were" his voice is still breathless as he gazes to the table, before his eyes meet Blaine's. It takes the other boy a few seconds to register Kurt's words before a beatific smirk captures his expression. Without too much hesitation, Blaine leans forward again to press his lips against Kurt, more insistent than before.

Their lips move in synchrony, neither of them leaning back even slightly. Nerve grabs a hold of Kurt again and his fingers leave the table's smooth surface and trace Blaine's Dalton blazer until they find the edge of the jacket and yank it slightly to bring their bodies closer. Blaine's hand moves smoothly from Kurt's shoulder to settle at the boy's waist, the motion almost reluctant as he memorises each crease in the white button down shirt, and especially the way Kurt's body shivers in response to the touch.

His mind reels when Blaine draws his fingers through Kurt's hair, gently pushing at his neck to deepen the kiss and it seems like a lifetime of pure happiness, Kurt's mind going blank with the way Blaine is kissing him so deeply and yet so carefully that he can't help but gasp a little, feeding the burn in his throat that begged for air just enough to keep him still light-headed.

They don't even hear the hysterical laughter that comes toward them, the creak of the door opening and the sudden stillness that falls again as David and Wes stand in the room, mouths agape before a smug smile crosses over their faces and they turn to each other.

"You know, I don't think I recognise that verse from Candles." David dead-pans and Kurt jumps away from Blaine, brought back to reality as all the noise crashes down on him and he looks at the two Warblers with a horrified expression.

Blaine just grimaces, dreading all the comments they could make and have probably spent days preparing.