Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, which makes me sad.
A/N: I wrote this as sort of a Coda to the 'Monochrome Trilogy' but it can easily be read as a stand-alone. Either way, I hope everyone enjoys.
You think you've almost always known about Noah's penchant for doodling, despite his non-existent artistic talent. It's almost reverential to watch; the way he runs three fingers gently down each smooth, empty page before filling it with dozens of little scribbles.
(Many of them are stick-figure caricatures of you, and every time you see one your stomach twists with something you can't name.)
Months down the road and there are oceans of things between you that you have never said, and won't speak of. Regardless, the broken-thing in your chest still aches prettily whenever Noah smiles your way.
For your birthday, Kurt gets you a jumbo pack of multicolored Sharpies, to replace the lonely black one you've worn the nib almost totally off of. You grin helplessly, like a child, watching his ears pink as he shuffles in front of you, suddenly shy.
(You still haven't named the Elephant between you two, but when you lean forward to kiss him, dry lips on the corner of his mouth, he doesn't turn away.)
Later in the pale grey light of impending dawn, you lie awake in his warm bed, watching his sleeping face where he lies drowsing on his tummy. (This moment is sacred; you've never before been allowed to stay)
Leaning over your side of the bed, you go fishing through your bag for your prize.
(You push aside blankets, sliding closer to wake your lover and lay your claim; feeling like the whole world has turned aside to allow you this silence.)
Kurt had been absent for first period. In fact, he'd been absent for second and third, too. (Non-Kurt behavior, if ever you've seen it!) You had assumed he was ill up until now, but as you watch your best boy walk into lunchtime Glee rehearsal, you can see that's not the case, despite his casual words of apology for sleeping the morning away. No, the Kurt that walks toward you may look like the Kurt you know, but this boy? This boy glows.
This Kurt also has strange shadows only barely noticeable under the sleeves of his vaguely-translucent white button-down. While Artie greets him and asks the obvious 'are you feeling okay' you beeline directly for his hand, raising his arms and deftly pushing his cuff up over his wrist. It only moves about an inch, snug as it is, but it's enough to make out the start of words written in neat rows up his arm in dark blue felt. Your hands move again before you know it, reaching for his tie.
"Mercedes…" he says, warningly, leaning out of your reach.
"Off." Your command is met with a resigned, bashful look as Kurt removes his tie, briskly stripping off his sweater vest and undoing the row of tiny buttons to shrug out of his shirt, ignoring Mr. Shue's protests of classroom decency to stand topless in front of the entire room, feeling every pair of eyes trace the deep blue words up his arms, across his shoulders, down his stomach.
'Adored' they declare.
Over and over dozens of different words of love and devotion splay across his skin and down to places still covered by clothing, and the whole symphony is sealed by one word, written in thick block letters over Kurt's heart.
Kurt stands stock-still, flushed with embarrassment and no small amount of quiet joy. No one says anything, not even Mr. Shuester. You are the first to break the silence.
"Why blue?" You had wanted to ask, who has done this? Who is it that loves you so much? But you were afraid of this, intimidated maybe, and you're pretty sure everyone else must be a little bit too. It isn't Kurt that responds, though.
"It looked black in the dark." Puck says, stepping forward, eyes looking past you to your best friend, smile golden in the drab room. Kurt looks unsteady for a moment, nervous suddenly in the shocked tension that resides. Puck steps forward, closer to his boyfriend, smile never fading as he unbuttons and draws down the collar of his grey Henley, revealing a single blue word in the same handwriting, over his heart, the letters a little shaky from the awkward angle used when writing.
You hesitate only a moment, after that, you lead the applause.