“Hey,” Blaine says, running his toes down the lengths of Kurt’s calves. There’s something about holding Kurt in the stillness of the night that’s beautiful, listening to Kurt’s slow breathing and the sound of the wind whipping through the trees outside. Blaine yearns for these moments when Kurt’s away in New York. They’ve shared so much tonight, speaking with their mouths and bodies, but he doesn’t want to sleep just yet.
“Hey yourself,” Kurt responds. “That was certainly some welcome home.” The open window makes the curtains flap a little, and when a chilly gust of air hits them, Kurt shivers a little and shifts so his back curves perfectly against Blaine’s bare chest. “I knew I’d miss you, miss us, and my family but…” Kurt’s pillow muffles his laugh a little and even in these moments when Kurt’s drifting off to sleep he’s still sohim, resonant and musical and bright.
Blaine soothes Kurt’s skin under his palms. “You didn’t realize quite how much you’d miss Finn?”
“Well.” Kurt stifles a yawn, shifting a little until he’s facing Blaine again. Even through the darkness of Kurt’s room, the soft smile on Kurt’s face is still visible. “I meant being back in Ohio, but yes. I really do miss the big lug.”
“How did you manage to get here in time to pick him up from the airport?” Blaine asks, knowing compassion isn’t a word Kurt’s mentor has in her vocabulary.
“Oh, I have my ways.” Kurt’s fingertips flutter softly against Blaine’s cheek before he reaches for Blaine’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “The picture of my single stepbrother looking incredibly handsome in his Army uniform.”
Against his expectations, Blaine’s missed Finn, too. He’d discussed the problems Finn might have after returning from boot camp with Kurt; neither of them had expected the same old Finn to greet them after four months away, but it’s a little like the elephant in the room. Nobody’s acknowledged how drawn in and quiet Finn seems; he’s a little like a seam that’s coming loose, and Blaine just wants to mend it, find some way to fix him. Blaine wants the old Finn back, who argued with Blaine and Kurt over what TV show to watch before flashing a lopsided smile, conceding defeat as Kurt ruffled his hair.
“Do you think Finn seems a little… off?” Blaine asks tentatively. “It’s a little like he’s there but he’s not here, if that makes sense.”
“Perhaps,” Kurt says, “but maybe he just needs some time to think? We both know from our time at Dalton life’s not as pleasant as you might think when you’re surrounded by hormonal young men.”
Blaine rolls over until his back is spooned against Kurt’s chest and his eyes fall closed; he savors the feeling of being cradled in the loose curve of Kurt’s body. Kurt’s palm, broad and warm, sweeps up and down his arm and over his stomach, touches gentle and sweet.
“You know… this - I miss this when you’re gone,” Blaine says, luxuriating in the comfort of contact. “Everything feels too big and lonely and overwhelming. You ground me, Kurt. I feel so much better in my skin.” Blaine drops his voice, intimate and quiet. “Because I’m not alone.”
“You’re never alone,” Kurt whispers into his ear.
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