likesboys | time can't, won't, tear us apart

Rehearsal goes at least as well as Blaine could have expected, if not better, with a good majority of the time spent with everyone getting to know each other and the production itself. They go through a few of the songs even and Blaine is only a little surprised to find that more than a few people are already familiar with it.

Despite his determination to stay focus and absorb all he can, Blaine still isn't completely unable to keep his attention off Kurt for too long, always aware of where he's standing at any given moment. Which means he notices when Kurt disappears before the end of rehearsal. He's barely able to focus on the last few minutes, suddenly absolutely sure that Kurt has changed his mind, that he's decided it's too awkward, too much to handle right now. That he's already moved on after all. He stumbles through the last few pages of the read-thru, stomach coiling tighter and tighter with unease that only grows when Mary Jane lets them loose and Kurt is still nowhere to be seen.

He only relaxes when Mary Jane calls him over and directs him to the side of the stage with a small, knowing grin. Still more than a little nervous, Blaine wanders over, peering up ahead as he says, quiet and hopeful, "Kurt?"

It's the sound of Blaine's voice that has Kurt relaxing at last, marginally, if only because it means there's no more room or time to be second-guessing his clothes, his presence here entirely, or what's the store for the night. What Kurt remembers best from the time he's been friends with Blaine is how quickly they dove into everything, never spending too long on speculation or allowing themselves a moment of second-guessing, and while Kurt's sure that some of that must have changed with their relationship, he hopes that the willingness to be spontaneous still holds for them as a whole. Otherwise, he knows he'll be stumbling around, just trying to keep up.

"Blaine!" he calls out in reply, taking a couple steps forward and out of the wings. His smile is wide, if nervous, as he spots Blaine and feels his heart fluttering for a moment, reminding him of how they're finally together and trying to make this work. He feels lucky enough for that opportunity, even if he's not sure he knows exactly how to navigate a relationship just yet.

Rachel and Finn haven't really set the best example.

"Hi," Kurt breathes, hooking his thumbs on his suspenders. "Sorry I ducked out early, I just felt that I had... to change."

The sound of Kurt's voice sends an immediate wave of relief washing over him, though it doesn't come with its own unique aftershock of nervousness as he spots him stepping out into the open a few yards away. Immediately, Blaine notices the change in clothing, the straight-cut jeans and suspenders over a button-up top, a simple bow-tie to round it all out. He looks...

"Wow," Blaine says on a quick exhale as he steps closer. "You look amazing."

Tentatively, he reaches out to touch the bowtie, grinning faintly as gives it a very light tug. "I'm going to feel like a hobo walking next to you."

"Flatterer," Kurt grins, ducking his chin bashfully when Blaine reaches out to tug lightly at his tie, failing to suppress the blush that blooms over his cheeks at the attention. He's tried using fashion to grab Blaine's attention before, Kurt knows, but he supposes that the allure of alcohol and the prospect of meeting a dozen new people was probably more interesting to Blaine than a bright red button-up. It's nice, though, to have his fashion sense be noticed. Praised, even.

And as his gaze drops down, Kurt finds himself slowly gazing over Blaine's person, as dreamy as ever, even after a long day's worth of practice.

"And if hobo stands for hot boyfriend, then maybe you've got that right," he adds.

Blaine feels far from his typically fashionable self, particularly after hours of rehearsing. But he has yet to figure out the trick to the clothing box and he hasn't managed to brave the boutique.

"Hot as in sweaty and gross, maybe," he agrees with a sheepish smile before the rest of Kurt's sentence catches up with him and his eyes drop wide. "Are we- Uh. Is that what we are now? Boyfriends?"

He realizes they hadn't really clarified the other day, though Blaine's sure he'd made his own hopes clear. But, despite what Kurt's told him about waiting for him, he still feels like it makes sense for Kurt to wait awhile to decide. And he doesn't want to make Kurt feel pressured in any way.

Gaping for a moment, Kurt blinks in confusion before pulling his lower lip between his teeth and feeling his stomach take an unpleasant turn. Has he been too quick to assume? Kurt knows full well that some people like to date multiple partners at once, get a feeling for who they really want to go steady with, but frankly, Kurt doesn't think that he's that kind of guy, and Blaine's made it pretty clear where he's placing his chips at the end of the day.

Or has he?

Maybe Blaine wants to date other people. Maybe it's like— what did Karofsky mention? That gay bar that they went to? Blaine dancing with that other guy? Kurt feels his cheeks blanch as he pauses, taking a shallow breath.

"I— if that's not what you want to be, obviously we don't have to, I mean. I kind of assumed, but I haven't gone around announcing it with a megaphone, so if you'd rather not yet, I... understand," Kurt stammers, clearing his throat.

Blaine knows almost instantly that he's said the wrong thing, his gut churning as he watches Kurt's entire face shift in confusion and humiliation and-

"No," Blaine says, his voice overlapping Kurt's as he reaches out to rest his hands on Kurt's upper arms, holding him, but not too tightly. "No, no, no. That's not- Kurt. No."

Once he feels he has Kurt's attention, he pulls in a quick breath and steels himself to continue, his eyes locked on Kurt's. "Trust me, that is absolutely, absolutely what I want. I want to be yours in any way you'll have me, but I didn't... we didn't really clarify one way or the other last night, so I just- I wanted to make sure. That you really mean it. That this is what you want. You don't have to rush into it; from what I've heard about this place, I'm not going anywhere for awhile."

Nine months, Kurt automatically thinks. Both Quinn and Santana were only on the island for nine months before either of them left, and in general, he hasn't met that many people who've stayed around for more than three years. Nine months or three years, neither is really as long as Kurt wants to think of a relationship as lasting, neither is even as long as the whole of a high school career, and he's always wanted Blaine to be more than that. Maybe the reality of departures hasn't sunk in for Blaine yet, but Kurt's lost more than a few people already. He's terrified of losing out by not giving enough.

"I want this," he says, both hands reaching up to squeeze around Blaine's. "I'm not rushing. I'm not doing this because I think you're pressuring me. I'm doing this because it's what I want, and I just, I really want to be able to greet my friends and say, hey, this is my boyfriend, Blaine. So that I get to be proud and parade you around like anyone would want to."

Despite the conviction clear in his tone, Blaine finds himself searching Kurt's eyes for a long moment once he's done for some sign of hesitancy, some sign that he's only saying what he thinks Blaine wants to hear.

But there's nothing there, but utter sincerity and, after a moment or two, Blaine lets out a quiet breath and manages a smile. "Okay," he says, dropping his hands, though keeping them still wrapped with Kurt's. "Okay, that's... That's really great."

Realizing how dumb he sounds, he lets out another laugh and shakes his head before quickly letting go of one of Kurt's hands as he pivots one on heel and gives a broad gesture. "In that case, as my boyfriend, would you like to accompany me to the beach this fine evening?" he asks, ignoring the flush on his cheeks as he tries for his warmest, softest smile.

It isn't until Blaine drops their hands that Kurt lets out the breath he'd been subconsciously holding, careful and even between his lips before he manages a brighter smile. He knows that first dates naturally come with jitters, but Kurt still wishes that his stomach would settle a bit more as they head on out, his nerves making him hyperaware of every single step he takes. Strangely enough, holding Blaine's hand seems to help. His thumb runs over the side, already shockingly familiar for the few times they've held hands, and Kurt nods.

"The beach would be great. It's so gorgeous at this time of day, and if we head south, we should be able to catch the sunset by the time we make it to shore," Kurt points out, his heart seizing at the thought of watching that kind of sight with Blaine. It's one of the most beautiful to be found on the island, Kurt thinks. He only hopes that Blaine will enjoy it as much.

"The paths are all well-lit too," Kurt adds. "So we can easily navigate around the island if we're... out late."

"Oh, that's good," Blaine says, letting Kurt largely lead the way. Though it's been nearly three weeks now since his arrival here, Blaine hasn't done much exploring. But he does at least know that the path between the Compound and the house he's been staying in has the lights Kurt must be talking about. And, if they do they happen to stay out past sundown, they'll definitely be necessary.

"I'm assuming you know where you're going," he says, giving Kurt's hand a light squeeze and cringing almost apologetically. "Or at least I hope so since I haven't actually been to the beach yet."

Even though in the back of Kurt's mind, he's fully aware of the fact that he's probably largely to blame for the fact that Blaine hasn't made it over to the beach yet, it still comes as nothing short of a shock, snapping him away from rolling insecurities. "You haven't actually been to the beach yet," Kurt repeats, as though he's misheard Blaine, though he quickly hastens their steps and tugs on Blaine's hand for effect. "Are you crazy, Blaine? I mean, I burn to a pure crisp when I'm under the sun for longer than ten minutes around here, but the beach was still one of the first places I went after arriving. It's beautiful, the water's so clear. And you, you've got the perfect kind of complexion for it, where you can tan without fear of rosy red reprisal."

Shaking his head, Kurt purses his lips at the thought, blushing a bit at the picture of Blaine a couple of shades more tan, skin kissed by the sun. "We're going to have to remedy this. Beg the clothes box for some swimwear or something. Seeing the sunset will be a good start, at least."

Kurt's vehement disbelief catches Blaine by surprise, a smile tugging at his lips as Kurt pulls on his hand. It feels pathetic to admit that before classes started up and the musical auditions, Blaine had spent most of his time holed up in the house he shares with the other glee kids. He's fairly sure Puck at least got tired of seeing him there constantly, but something about this place just felt too overwhelming. Paralyzing.

Sometimes it still does if he's completely honest, but at least he has things to do now. And, of course, there's Kurt.

"Okay, okay," he says, gently tugging Kurt closer to his side, their fingers still entwined. "But I've tried begging that thing a couple times now and it just keeps giving me sandals, horrible airbrushed t-shirts, and a lot of hoodies. I don't suppose you have any tricks on how to sweet talk it."

Whatever amount of insistence Kurt held about himself dies down just a little when Blaine gives a gentle tug, pulling Kurt back close. That little movement alone makes Kurt's chest swell, Kurt settling in an easy pace right by Blaine's side, fighting the temptation to seek a kiss, cheeks flushing deep at the thought. Fortunately, it isn't too hard to slide his thoughts on over to fashion instead.

"I've heard different tricks to taming the box," Kurt thinks, gaze rolling up and to the sky, a brilliant shade of orange tinged with pink. "Some people say that it's best to keep your focus a little off. Keep everything a little blurred, don't really think too hard about what you want to find. Others say that it works better when you return clean clothes. Others still talk to it. I never really have to do any of those things, though. I usually find myself capable of using whatever it throws my way, maybe with a hem tuck here and there."

Tilting his head, Kurt shrugs, a smug little grin on his lips. "That offer to tailor something for you still stands. Although, for what it's worth, I think you'd look adorable in a hoodie."

"Hey, there is nothing wrong with a well-placed hoodie," Blaine says with a smile, keeping his gaze straight ahead to make sure he doesn't trip over something on accident and make a fool of himself. "And I will be the first to admit to their comfort and convenience, particularly in a climate like Lima's. But here? On a tropical island? There is simply no reason other than to irritate me as far as I can tell."

Despite his mini-rant, the last of Kurt's statement still lingers, warming him a little. He glances over, a smile still playing at his lips. "But I've maybe kept a couple of them. If you ever want to see."

He's kept three, to be exact. A simple black one, a navy blue with red stitching, and an off-white one made of a slightly thinner material that might actually be suitable for the beach if he ever manages to go during daylight.

"You could..." Kurt pauses, glancing down Blaine's front and biting down sheepishly on his lower lip, feeling his face heat over already, completely against his will. "You could go without a shirt. I mean, if you're on the beach. Or you could cut off the sleeves of the hoodie, although I suppose that runs the risk of seeming a little Jersey Shore." Hoping to hide his overly warm face from Blaine's view, Kurt leans in a little closer, resting his chin on Blaine's shoulder.

"Just make sure that you adequately cover yourself with sunscreen. There's a great supply of organic sunscreen in the Compound, I tend to carry it with me wherever I go."

And belatedly aware of the implications of that suggestion, Kurt's face only flushes deeper at the thought of helping to rub Blaine down with sunscreen. (He's never going to make it out of this alive.)

"I guess I'll just have to make sure you're everywhere I am, then. Just to be safe," Blaine says, straddling the line between serious and playful. Back in Lima, back before everything with Chandler and maybe even before NYADA started playing such a big role in their lives, the statement would've definitely had added meaning, maybe punctuated with an eyebrow waggle and a grin.

But here it's different. Here it feels like it could still be a little too much. Boyfriends or no, everything is still more than a little tenuous.

"All I'd really like is a nice cardigan," Blaine says, trying to shift the conversation onto slightly safer ground. But he keeps Kurt pulled close, reveling in the way Kurt's rests against his shoulder. "I never thought that would be too much to ask for."

Humming in thought, Kurt considers tilting his head to press a kiss to Blaine's cheek, one of many little actions he's imagined indulging in once in a proper and loving relationship, but somehow, even though they're holding hands and there isn't much distance between the two of them, Kurt finds himself falling just short, brushing his nose against Blaine's cheek instead— safe, but still conscious. His own little sign of assent, Kurt thinks. He'd happily venture around the island with Blaine.

Granted, he thinks that some time apart in the day would be good for them, but they share few enough classes and live enough of a distance apart that it shouldn't be a big deal. There'll be plenty of time apart to keep their lives balanced.

"You know," Kurt says, carefully pulling back again, although still walking closely enough for their shoulders to remain touching, "if you don't mind a deep v-neck or slightly asymmetrical pattern, I have plenty of cardigans you could borrow. I think we wear roughly the same size."

"Only slightly asymmetrical?" Blaine asks, hiding a smirk. After all, he knows Kurt's closet almost as well as his own anymore. Or at least did back in Lima. (In fact, back home it wasn't at all uncommon for them to share clothing from time to time.) He knows quite well Kurt's love for all things a little left of center.

Still, he shrugs slightly, then gives Kurt's arm a light nudge, their fingers still entwined. "I don't mind a v-neck," he says because, even if that's not usually his typical style of choice, he knows he can make them work with the right button-up. "But you really don't have to. I could probably use the practice with that stupid box. I haven't tried the not-thinking-of-what-you-really want tactic yet. Maybe next time I'll try thinking of Rachel's closet and see what happens."

Kurt takes half a second longer to smile at the jab at his wardrobe, if only because he hasn't had all that many opportunities to show off his style in front of Blaine. Weekends, perhaps. Afternoons occasionally, when the two of them spent time together long after school hours, but in Kurt's memory, it's mostly been in blazers. Naturally, though, transferring to McKinley means Kurt's broken out all the McQueen and Westwood. Of course Blaine would be able to crack a joke about it.

He does admit, though, the fact that Blaine sounds so fond has Kurt's cheeks warming over yet again, gaze bashfully skirting to the ground.

"Well, if you're willing to don moose sweaters and argyle socks before borrowing a cardigan from yours truly, so be it," he murmurs, pursing his lips. "I personally think you'd look great in Marc Jacobs, though. Stripes, bright colors... my closet isn't exactly lacking, you know."

"Argyle isn't so bad," Blaine argues playfully. He actually has a very nice argyle cardigan back home that he finds himself suddenly missing fiercely. "Though, you're right, it's best in small quantities. And I could definitely do without any moose sweaters; I'll leave those to Artie. And I wouldn't dream of your closet being anywhere close to lacking," he rushes to add.

They continue walking in silence for a few more seconds before Blaine gives Kurt's hand another light squeeze and glances over at him. "How about this: if I can't find anything decent in the next week or so, we'll have a mini-makeover thing at your place. I'll let you put whatever you want on me. Though," he adds before Kurt can get too excited, "I won't guarantee I'll like it or will dare to go out in public in it. Unfortunately, unlike you, there are very few wild combinations I can actually pull off."

Fashion has a tendency to put Kurt's nerves at rest, and now is no exception. Critically, he glances over Blaine's face, his features, his expression, the width of his shoulders, all of the details normally taken into account for a makeover— and while he remains fully aware of the fact that Blaine isn't as fond of feathers and sequins as Kurt is on any given day, still Kurt's pretty sure he can wheedle Blaine into wearing bright colors, at least. Maybe a bowtie... suspenders?

"Completely untrue, but I'll give you veto rights," Kurt considers, but he bites his lip with the confidence that he'll manage to find something that both of them can agree upon. "I'm pretty sure you can pull any look off, but, I fully realize that fashion is about self-expression before anything else. We'll find something that suits you."

"I wouldn't say no to borrowing that bowtie you're wearing right now," he says with a grin, feeling warm under the scrutinizing weight of Kurt's gaze. It isn't the first time Kurt's looked at him like that, like he's cataloging every one of Blaine's features, mentally comprising what will and won't look good on him in the span of seconds. And he's well aware that Blaine's manner of dress hasn't always pleased Kurt's more fashionable sensibilities though Kurt's at least gotten better at criticizing him publicly. "And the suspenders are a nice touch."

In fact, Kurt's entire outfit wouldn't go amiss in Blaine's closet and he realizes with a start that Kurt probably doesn't even realize that. Because the Blaine Kurt remembers wears a Dalton blazer just about every minute of every day.

The thought makes him laugh a little and he shakes his head before giving Kurt's side a light nudge. "This is weird," he says, but not at all unkindly. "I mean- everything here is weird, but there are these little things we keep hitting that remind me all over again. Like... how weird is it for you right now to not see me in the Dalton uniform?"

There's a boyish impulse that stays just underneath Kurt's skin, that wants nothing more than to take off the various articles of clothing he's wearing right now and pass them over to Blaine, see how they might look on his sturdier frame. But now isn't the time for exchanging clothes, not when the beach is a mere couple of minutes away, and so Kurt simply keeps the thought to himself, unable to suppress a pleased little grin as he rifles mentally through his closet. Bowties and suspenders do work, Kurt thinks, for Blaine's personality. Dapper, elegant, classic.

"It... is pretty weird," Kurt nods, pressing his lips tightly together and gazing again at Blaine's profile, picking out the little things that have changed. He's not sure whether or not it's his imagination, but there seem to be a couple of smile lines that are set a little deeper than he remembers. He hopes McKinley's done that. "Don't get me wrong, though. It's a good kind of weird. The Dalton uniform was sensible, functional, classic. But when that's all you see day in and day out... it gets to be a bit of a bore."

"Well, it's not like I had much choice," Blaine points out with a laugh. Though, honestly, it's not as though he disagrees. He may not be quite the fashion guru Kurt is, but he does take some pride in his style and enjoys picking out his outfits every morning. Which, of course, is half the reason the clothing box here is so frustrating. He doesn't get to pick much of anything.

"And hey," he adds, his voice a little more playful as he swings their hands between them. "It was still apparently enough to get your attention."

There are times when Kurt wants to confide in Blaine, but stops, wondering whether or not he's already done so back home. Wondering if it'd be awkward to confess to something that Blaine already knows. For this and many other reasons, Kurt wishes he could dive into Blaine's memories, see what's there, see everything that he's missed, both good and bad. Still, this time he doesn't let it stop him from glancing down at their laced fingers.

"Did I ever tell you?" Kurt asks, gaze shyly raising up to meet Blaine's eyes. "How you first got my attention. Because I was... gone pretty early on. And obviously you didn't notice for a while, but I had it— I have it bad."

Blaine considers the question for a moment, resolutely ignoring the voice in the back of his mind that wonders how it's possible Kurt could've waited for him here when the Kurt in Lima has been so eager to leave. For every way in which this Kurt and the other are exactly the same, there's still that one single difference between them that Blaine can't seem to shake.

"I... don't think you did, actually," he says with a soft, awkward sort of laugh. "We never really had that talk since you knew pretty much exactly when it hit me and I always guessed that for you it... happened pretty organically. Was that wrong?"

Trying to contain the momentary joy in getting to reveal something Blaine doesn't already know, Kurt bites down on his lower lip before the words quickly spill free. "You took my hand," he explains, the words breathless before Kurt lets out a little laugh and shakes his head. "I know it must sound so stupid, but... on that first day, when I was spying, you took my hand to lead me down a shortcut to the Warblers jam. You didn't hesitate, you didn't stop to think about what kind of impression it'd give other people or if it was overstepping, you just. Took my hand. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. And I guess I figured, either you were straight and totally comfortable enough to hold another boy's hand down the hall, which would have been cool and practically unheard of, or you were... you. Gay and unafraid. Not to mention the cutest guy I'd ever laid eyes on."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt snorts. "And then you had to go ahead and practically sing 'Teenage Dream' to me. I mean, did you realize how much eye contact you were making? It's enough to make a guy's heart burst."

"The eye contact was definitely on purpose," Blaine says with a quiet laugh, his face flushing a little under the weight of Kurt's words. It's been awhile since Kurt's talked like this with him, all flustered and adorable and a little awkward. It feels like their first few months together when every second felt fresh and precious. Brand new. And maybe Blaine is at least a little too blame with how strained things have been recently, but having to give this up, moments just like this one... he couldn't do it.

And he can't do it here either.

He finds himself squeezing Kurt's hand a little tighter then as he continues, his voice faltering only slightly. "You were new. Impressionable. Fresh meat," he adds with a small, flirty grin. "I definitely wanted to impress you even if I didn't realize exactly why at the time."

"I still find it so strange that you've figured out your reason for the 'why' now," Kurt admits with a small huff, even as he squeezes Blaine's hand a bit tighter, pulls him a little closer, unwilling to let go. It might be a lot to face all of a sudden, but Kurt's already seeing it, the changed look in Blaine's eye, the added tactility of their interactions, the kisses that leave his knees weak. And Kurt doesn't want to let any of those go, even if it means stumbling for a while to catch up. "You were this unattainable crush of mine, more than that, for so long, and I know I've had like five months to get used to the idea thanks to Rachel, but it's really... here now. I just want to, like."

Kurt swallows thickly, eyes darting over the scene in front of them, a bewildered smile on his lips. "Show you all my favorite places, be obnoxious and order dinner at the Winchester every night, or, or hoard the kitchen late at night to make popcorn for a movie, or just kiss you. And then I wonder if that makes me seem totally immature and inexperienced compared to where you must be right now."

"It doesn't," Blaine says after a pause to collect himself, his stomach flipping pleasantly at Kurt's words, chest swelling. "It- It doesn't at all, actually."

He's glad for the distraction of walking, for being able to keep his eyes focused on the path ahead, the way the trees are becoming more and more sparse, the sky opening up above. And again, he can't help but compare this Kurt with the one in Lima, can't help but notice how this one wants to show him places and have dinner and watch movies, just spend time with him without New York sharing the room. And, at the same time, his chest still aches for the boy he left behind, the one who may have moved on from him, but whom Blaine still loves with everything in him. The boy with whom he shares over a years worth of memories.

He feels like he's falling in love all over again while simultaneously mourning what he used to have. It's confusing to say the least. Conflicting.

When he speaks again, his voice is a little quieter, a little thicker with the lump forming in his throat and he pulls Kurt closer, unwilling to let go of his hand for even a second. "We've been together for over a year, you know. Back home. I left Dalton to be with you for your senior year, knowing you'd be losing you at the end of it. I've never- Maybe it took me awhile to see it, but I've never loved anyone the way I love you."

Knowing I'd be losing you at the end of it. The sentence seems to jar against everything else that Blaine's said thus far, throws a wrinkle into what otherwise sounds like nigh perfection, and Kurt's brow sets in a worried furrow as he glances over to catch a glimpse of Blaine's face, so many emotions clear and open and raw. He squeezes Blaine's hand reassuringly, not sure how much comfort the other boy might find in the gesture, but it's one necessary, Kurt thinks. Because that expression, slightly distant and caught in thoughts, almost frightens Kurt a little. He's here. Not back at home. And until if and when they return together, Kurt doesn't want Blaine thinking too much of Lima.

It feels... futile to do so.

"You wouldn't be losing me," Kurt says quietly. "Even if I'm studying out of state for college, you wouldn't be losing me. People like you and me shouldn't give up after being together for over a year, and over a year in a place that tries to limit us at every turn. Do you know how much that means, Blaine? Lasting and transferring schools, I can't think of anyone else from McKinley or Dalton who would've— that's. That's not something you give up on. Ever."

'But you did,' Blaine can't stop himself from thinking. 'You moved on before I was ready. You found someone else.'

He holds it back, though, swallowing as he keeps his eyes straight ahead. The ache is still there, deep in his chest, and he's not sure it will ever go away. Even with Kurt here beside him and no New York in their future, it will always linger.

"I wasn't going to give you up," he says, though it doesn't feel entirely honest. He'd been preparing himself for exactly that, after all. Turning down Kurt's invitations to coffee and trips to music stores. He's been spending weeks, maybe months trying to figure out how to live without Kurt, trying to get used to the idea and never really succeeding. "I wasn't, but... long distance relationships are hard. They almost never work. I wasn't going to be the one to hold you back."

Hearing that feels like giving up, Kurt almost wants to say. To say that the odds would be stacked against him, to say that it would be difficult, to say that they almost never work simply seems like it's making the argument against trying. Seems like it's treating Kurt and Blaine like they're just an average couple, but Kurt knows, he knows that they aren't. That they couldn't have been. Because Blaine is more than that, Blaine's someone worth fighting for, something worth fighting to keep around, the type of guy anyone ought to be honored to meet. Brave, persevering, giving when the rest of the world's hardly given him the same.

"You wouldn't have been," Kurt says firmly. "You wouldn't be. You'll never be someone holding me back, that's... not you. You're amazing, Blaine. Near or far, that doesn't change."

"It's New York, Kurt," Blaine says with a laugh, though it really feels anything but funny. "It's not just a different city, it's a whole different life."

He cringes as soon as the words are out, quickly shaking his head as he slows to a stop, taking both Kurt's hands in his own and pulling him close. This isn't at all what they should be talking about on their first island date and Blaine feels like a jerk for letting the conversation ever drift to this. "Look, it's not- That doesn't even matter anymore," he says, looking up at Kurt with pleading eyes. "I'm here. You're here. Let's just... forget about everything back in Lima, okay? All that matters is now. You and me. Right here."

New York just feels far beyond Kurt's comprehension. Far beyond his reach. He's never even stepped foot in the city, never really traveled outside of the Midwest altogether, and although Broadway sounds lovely and right, Kurt can't imagine just tossing aside the bright points of his life in Lima. He can't imagine going without talking to his dad every day, or catching up with the New Directions over the weekends. He just can't imagine it, but who is he to know? Apparently they make it to Nationals, apparently he gets to visit New York then like he's always wanted. How's he supposed to know what kind of effect that might have on him?

Kurt frowns, fighting the burn in his eyes as he shifts his weight. He hopes he's not that kind of person. It's true that one shouldn't compromise their dreams for a relationship. That's not a way for it to be healthy. But there's nothing to say that he can't have both. The fact that Blaine doesn't think that'd necessarily be his priority hurts in a way that Kurt's unfamiliar with.

"I wish you'd believe me," he murmurs, and even though he hasn't done anything, not really, still Kurt's gaze drops in humiliation. One way or another, he loses.

Either he's not really the guy he thought he was, and Blaine's right for being scared, or even angry.

Or he's not the same guy as the Kurt back home, and the one Blaine's so deeply in love with.

He takes a steadying breath, but somehow it feels like both sides are just losing.

"Kurt," Blaine breathes, a whispered, frustrated plea. Aimed more at himself than at Kurt, though he's not sure if that's clear.

Because he has no idea what to do here, no idea how to magically make everything okay again. Make it right. No matter their similarities, this Kurt is still so different from the one back in Lima, so much more unsure of himself, unsure of his future, of their relationship. The Kurt Blaine remembers is completely focused, intent on New York and everything it takes to get there, secure in his talent and his abilities, and absolutely sure Blaine loves him. And he's not wrong. Not even a little.

And this Kurt... He just doesn't know.

There is no way to ever make Kurt understand. Not with words. Maybe not even with song.

So Blaine does the next best thing and lets go of Kurt's hands to lightly cup his face, quickly leaning in to press a kiss to soft, pouty lips before Kurt can pull away. It's slow, almost tentative, but not at all chaste, his tongue lightly swiping Kurt's bottom lip before slipping inside, putting all the want and love and hurt he has in him into it.

If there were a way to fold himself into a kiss, Kurt thinks, this one would be it. Because Kurt doesn't need to go searching. The affection comes his way, soft and insistent, seeking permission but not quite waiting to receive it in full, gentle in everything aside from the strength of conviction, as much as conviction can ever be laid in a kiss. It takes some time before Kurt finds his own footing, but he decides to take it slow, still feeling out the way that their kisses work, shivering when Blaine's tongue runs over his lip. Kurt carefully raises a hand to curl around Blaine's neck, either to anchor him there, or for support, he's not really sure which.

He does wonder, though. If someone ever does find a way back to their homes, if Blaine had that option and not Kurt, would he pick it?

Probably, Kurt thinks. And maybe that's a little bit like the fear that Blaine holds of New York.

"I..." Kurt manages a soft inhale again, before he tentatively reaches out to rest his hands on Blaine's hips. The other two words don't follow yet. It feels too soon. "I think we'll need to hustle if we want to catch that sunset," he says instead.

It ends too soon. And that, Blaine thinks, is at least something normal; every kiss he's ever shared with Kurt has ended too soon. So he steals one more while he still can, lingering just a second longer before reluctantly pulling back.

And maybe his point still isn't clear, but it's at least easier for him to smile now and he can only hope it's easier for Kurt, too.

"Okay," he says, quiet, as he reaches down to take Kurt's hand again, fingers entwining as he turns them both back towards the beach. He definitely doesn't want to miss the sunset.

Kurt learns, for the first time, how to sigh into a kiss. This one is soft, smooth, doesn't ask too much as Kurt finds himself entirely surrounded by Blaine. It feels so safe, the thought strikes him suddenly, lips parting more easily as Kurt revels in how he's never felt more content with the island than now. Blaine's words ring from earlier, how nothing else should matter but here, the island, now, and while Kurt isn't sure that he entirely agrees, he can understand the temptation, a soft hum pressed against Blaine's lips before the both of them pull back.

"I promise it's worth it," murmurs Kurt as he feels Blaine's hand drop to his own. "I've come out a few times and just watched it go down, and it's like... it's like home. You realize that the sun comes up and goes down just like home, and it makes things okay for a while again." The dirt's starting to grow grittier now, Kurt notices, flecks of gray against brown, and he tugs again as they reach a clearing in the trees, the water peeking out and crashing in a faint, but constant roar.

"The stars are different here, though," Blaine says, still looking straight ahead at the way the ground slowly shifts beneath their feet, one terrain melting into another until there's nothing but sand beneath their feet and a wide, gorgeous stretch of water up ahead. It's more difficult to walk here, the sand giving in a way the hard, packed dirt of the path had been stable and their pace slows as a result. Blaine's sure he'll be dumping sand out of his shoes later, but, as Kurt says, he's sure it will be worth it.

It is already, in fact. And, for a moment, he's not thinking about how different everything is here. For the moment, he's focused only on the feel of Kurt's hand in his own and the thick smell of salt in the air, and the sky painted in a swath of orange.

He doesn't realize his mouth is hanging open until he closes it, laughing softly as he glances over at Kurt. "I've never seen a sunset like this in Lima."

Kurt wants to say that he never looks at the stars, but it simply isn't true. He's spent many evenings laying on the floor of the cottage, the shutters open enough to see the twinkling of lights up above, trying his best to find anything, anything familiar from home, as though spotting a constellation might mean that the two places are connected, however distant. Fortunately, he doesn't need to think along those lines for long, because the moment Kurt looks to his side and sees the way the sun hits Blaine, illuminating his smile, Kurt finds himself letting out a contented sigh.

Breath stolen completely from him.

"And I've never seen a sunset like this, even here," Kurt replies, his eyes trained on Blaine alone.

Kurt's looking right at Blaine as he says it and there's no question that he isn't talking about the sunset at all.

A familiar, all-encompassing warmth passes through Blaine then, reaching into every extremity as he stares right back at Kurt, memorizing the shape and shifting colors of his eyes all over again, committing them to a memory now in a different light, a different world. A new beginning.

"I love you," he says, quiet and utterly sincere. It's nothing he hasn't already said, nothing he hasn't made abundantly clear, but it feels like more right now. And maybe still too soon. "You don't have to say it back or anything," he says quickly, giving Kurt's hand a gentle squeeze. "I just... wanted you to know. Again," he adds with a small grin.

Kurt doesn't break gazes for even an instant, lips reflexively curving into the exact same smile that Blaine wears on his lips, hand squeezing back in return. There's a part of Kurt that wants nothing more than to be able to say those three words right back, but there's another that wants it to be organic, wants to feel that burst of emotion and realization, the one that comes when care blossoms into love, the kind of love that holds fast and close. He knows already that he's standing on the precipice, so close, might even tumble before he's ready. But he wants to try to step with his best foot forward.

And that means he needs to be more fearless than he is now.

He needs that surety.

"I'm going to say it someday soon," Kurt murmurs. "Because I'm already falling, Blaine. I want you to know the very second I'm ready for you to catch me." His smile widens.

"And you know me. That means you can't preempt me like you just did."

Despite what he's just said and despite meaning it wholly, there's still a pang of hurt when Kurt doesn't return the sentiment. And there's a part of him, a small part buried deep, that wonders if he took Kurt's love for granted back home, if that's why it was so easy for him to find someone else. If only Blaine had made it more clear, if only he'd agreed to meet up at the Lima Bean a little more often, if he'd only he hadn't tried so hard to get used to the idea of being without Kurt. If only he had loved him a little bit more, a little bit harder.

But this is not the same Kurt, he reminds himself. This one doesn't even know what loving Blaine even means. He doesn't know about Blaine's failure.

This time, Blaine can get it right.

His smile is maybe a little shaky, but it's no less genuine as he lifts his free hand to lightly touch Kurt's cheek. "Well, I'll be here," he says, thumb soft against Kurt's chin. "With my arms wide open."

It's not too hard to see the slight jolt in Blaine's actions, the way that his smile just barely falters, and Kurt feels guilt sinking in his stomach. Should he have said the words anyway? But he can't imagine that going over well either, saying words before he feels well and truly ready, because if there's anyone who seems so attuned now to Kurt's emotions, it's Blaine. Blaine, who's probably seen more sides of Kurt than he's even able to recognize in himself. Drawing a breath slowly in, then out, Kurt tries to convince himself that he made the right choice.

Tentatively, he steps forward, thumb curiously brushing out and over the length of Blaine's lip, cheeks flushing at how soft it feels against the pad of his thumb. Before long, he replaces the digit with his lips, a few lingering pecks in succession as Kurt starts lowering himself to the ground, hands reaching for Blaine's to tug him along.

"Wait for me," Kurt murmurs. "Please wait for me."

Blaine's eyes don't leave Kurt's for even a second, warmth spreading all through him as Kurt drags a thumb across his lower lip. With a tilt of his head, he meets every one of Kurt's light, soft kisses, leaning forward a little as Kurt pulls away again and then taking his hand with a grin as he lowers himself into the sand.

"As long as it takes," he promises, wrapping an arm around Kurt's back and tugging him in close. With a soft, contended sigh, he looks out across the stretch of blue, watching as the sun sinks lower and lower behind the horizon.

No, it's definitely not like any sunset Blaine has ever seen. But it's not just because there are no beaches in in Lima.

time can't, won't, tear us apart

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