Author's note: This is the last chapter. Thank you for reading and for all your amazing comments – I hope you enjoyed this story at least half as much as I loved writing it. This chapter should include a link to the song Blaine plays – it's beautiful and worth listening to – but FF doesn't allow foreign links. So you can either find this chapter with the link on either my livejournal or scarves&coffee (my penname is always the same), or remove all the spaces from the link below and add the second / after http:

http : / view . aimini . com / ?fid=sOk539hlQ7BZqerZIh9h


Kurt is tired, hungry and annoyed. In spite of what he's been telling himself, the memories of last night – feelings, touches, thoughts – are hanging like a heavy cloud over his head. And it hurts, weighing him down.

Today has been terrible; the photoshoots were long and exhausting, he had no time for lunch in between and he'd gotten a speeding ticket trying not to be late for the second one. His head hurts, his body is tense and all he feels like doing is falling face first on a bed and sleeping for a week; not feeling, not thinking, not remembering. Maybe he'll do just that. But first, dinner. He groans; as hungry as he is, he has no energy left to even think about cooking. He – or they, if Blaine joins him – will have to order takeout again.

Oh god, Blaine. Kurt wonders how much he remembers from last night. He was pretty out of it, so probably not much. And if he doesn't, Kurt isn't going to remind him that they almost slipped in their no sex rule again.

Kurt's apartment is warm and brightly lit when he enters, and it smells of food. Good food. Blaine gets up from the couch as soon as the door open. His eyes are too bright, eyelashes wet, and Kurt knows immediately he's been crying. His heart squeezes – Blaine already regrets breaking up with David, doesn't he? He's come to his senses and realized he loved him after all?

Blaine comes up to hug Kurt, whose stomach chooses this moment to rumble loudly. His friend laughs.

"Come on, everything's ready. They didn't feed you again?"

"Yeah, no time for silly stuff like that." Kurt rolls his eyes with a smirk.

He doesn't know how it works, but Blaine's presence alone is always enough to improve his mood, no matter how bad it is. He can't help but smile now. The smile widens into a grin when he enters the kitchen. They always eat here, but now the table is set with an actual tablecloth, there are flowers and candles set tastefully among the plates and serving dishes. The glasses are already filled with wine. Kurt stops in the doorway, surprised.

"What's the occasion?"

"I just felt like celebrating… something. I had a day off anyway, so… here it is. We can celebrate our friendship if you need a reason to eat a fancy dinner with me."

Laughter bubbles up in Kurt's throat. He feels much better all of a sudden.

Delicious food, excellent wine and talking with his best friend work wonders and by the time they finish stacking dishes in the sink, Kurt feels relaxed and rejuvenated. Blaine looks at him from the other side of the kitchen, some undecipherable emotion stealing into his eyes. He blinks it away quickly, as if it was never there, and he grabs Kurt's hand and leads him to the living room.

"Come on, I want to play something for you."

Judging from the dinner conversation, Blaine doesn't seem to remember much from the night before, except for the fact that Kurt had picked him up from the bar. He's different today, though, subdued, sad, yet somehow… glowing? It seems strange right after a breakup, but oh well, he's never been one to judge.

Kurt settles on the couch, a refilled glass of wine in his hand. He doesn't notice the candles until Blaine flicks the overhead lamp off. There must be a dozen of them, tiny tealights set all around the room, bathing it in a warm, yellow glow. Kurt's heart accelerates as he looks around, the well-known setting suddenly intimate somehow, almost romantic. But why would it…

Blaine is already seated by the keyboard he must have brought from his apartment, his fingers dancing on the keys, sweet soft notes filling the room. When he starts singing, he looks right into Kurt's eyes and the world disappears, there's nothing but those honey-warm eyes and this voice, words flying right to Kurt's heart.

And by the way you brought me here it makes me believe

the best is still yet to come and I don't want to leave.

Forgive my hesitation - oh, but I'm learning to trust in you.

Help me to dream these dreams cause I don't have a clue.

And if you'd be honest and say what you mean,

you know I would promise, I'd do anything

cause I know that without you, I'm giving it away.

Kurt can't breathe. Does this mean what he thinks it means? Or is it just his imagination interpreting a beautiful song the way he wants to hear it? Blaine's eyes are still focused on him, earnest and open, as he sings on.

Is this what you've wanted? Cause I'm willing to change

now that I am certain that there's much more to gain.

You've introduced me to the moment, oh, but I'm looking to stay for good.

You've asked me to stay forever, well, you know that I would,

I would do anything.

Kurt gasps. Blaine knows. He remembers last night, and not only that, but he heard Kurt. How else would he know about forever? So he knows and this, this is his reaction? The words pulse on, mesmerizing.

The nights are forever, and maybe I'm wrong,

but it feels like I'm so lost without you.

So I step towards the heat, it's the way I can see,

and it makes me believe

that it's you.

Blaine's nod is barely perceptible, holding the last long note, and it's clear, it couldn't be more clear what he means, but Kurt still has trouble believing, understanding what's happening. He's dreaming, he's sure he must be dreaming, because even in his wildest fantasies he's never imagined a scene so romantic, a confession so beautiful that his breath hitches in his throat and his vision blurs with tears. It can't be real, can it?

The song flows on before the last notes melt into silence, and Kurt doesn't move from his seat, hardly dares to breathe, afraid that the slightest touch will destroy the dream image, blow it away without a trace. But Blaine is getting up now, coming closer, so close, and taking the wine glass from his numb fingers, and when he kneels on the floor and his hand brushes Kurt's, it's warm, solid and familiar. Blaine reaches up then, to Kurt's hot, wet cheek, hesitant and quiet.

"Kurt? Say something, please."

And he can't. There's too much to say and yet so little, and he wants to believe, so so much, but there are the last threads of reason keeping him still, warning against gambling everything on this one chance. Questions in his eyes, he just looks at the man he loves, and Blaine understands because he knows him so well.

"Kurt… it's always been you."

The threads snap and Kurt is falling, blindly, without a parachute, hoping with everything he has he'll be caught as he lowers his lips to Blaine's.

Blaine's heart stops for a second when he sees Kurt's tears. All evening, the presence of the other man has affected him ten times more than ever before – every gesture, every move, every single smile seemed as if he was seeing them for the first time. He can't stop staring; longing. The desire to touch and hold and say those words is so hard to fight. And then he's singing and Kurt freezes, eyes wide, and there are tears there. Blaine wants to stop and run, because he must be doing it all wrong if Kurt is reacting like this. But he manages to finish the song and he's kneeling by the couch, because his legs don't seem to be able to support him any longer. Once he's close though, what he sees in Kurt's stormy eyes is not rejection; it's fear, yes, but also hope and disbelief, so Blaine says the only thing he can.

"It's always been you."

And it must be the right thing to say, because the next thing he knows, Kurt's lips are on his, soft and wet with tears, and Blaine dives into the kiss that he first saw in his dreams that first night in his college dorm room, over seven years ago. He's kissed many times since then, of course – trained, mechanical kisses with girls, and in the last months finally proper kisses with men, kisses that spelled want and passion and desire. But this kiss is so much more than that, it speaks of more than technique and physical attraction. It's like an offering, an unspoken confession, and the fact that Kurt is the one initiating it right now means everything. It feels like a new beginning, like I trust you and Don't hurt me. Kurt's fingers tangle in Blaine's hair, pulling him closer – not to communicate I want you, take me now, but I want to be close to you, hold me, be with me, don't let go. Blaine has no idea how he knows all this. He just does. It's like telepathy. And it's amazing. They pull away from each other after a while and Kurt's eyes are sparkling, his cheeks flushed pink. He's gorgeous.

They sit on the couch long into the night, cuddling, talking and kissing. Kurt wants to know why now, what's changed; so Blaine tells him about those first months of college, about his fights with himself, his self-imposed ban on thinking about Kurt as anything other than just a friend. In return, he gets the admission that for Kurt this started right about then, too. Someone broke my heart some time ago; my first love actually – the words hang between them, unspoken. They don't talk about it, not yet. They don't name their feelings; it's too soon. They need time to find their place together, to settle into this relationship and learn each other in this new context.

They both agree to do it properly, gradually, and set some ground rules, most of which come down to one thing: no sex yet. Definitely not full-on sex-sex until a month into the relationship. They want to take things slow, go from kisses to touches to fooling around and then on – to experience it all with each other. This night they kiss in Kurt's bed until they fall asleep. The next morning they are almost late for their Saturday class in the group home, because they can't stop making out long enough to do anything effectively. Like, maybe get dressed and prepared for the weekend.

Daisy takes one look at them and chuckles. "I knew you'd get together eventually."

And bold little Romeo, who was adopted a month ago and came with his new father to say proper goodbye, hugs them and whispers in Kurt's ear "I think Mister Blaine wants to be your boyfriend now, Mister Kurt. Because he makes funny eyes, you know?" and Kurt can't help but giggle.

They go to Lima afterwards, since Sunday is Finn's wedding day. When they enter the house, holding hands – and Blaine loves how good it makes him feel, this soft warm hand steady in his – they sort of expect surprise. Shock even.

What they actually get? Just smiles all around and Burt's cheerful "Well finally. Took you two long enough. Good timing, you can sleep in Kurt's old bedroom together and we'll have the couch free in case someone wants to stay the night." And that's the last they hear on the topic.

Blaine gets introduced to everyone as Kurt's boyfriend and treated like family, not a guest. It means he's busy helping with preparations, which he does happily. It also means he cries in Kurt's arms for hours late that night, finally grieving the loss of his own family. He still can't understand how his parents could have cut him out of their lives so easily, when he's practically been adopted without hesitation by people who are in no way connected to him by blood, history or family obligation. He comes to realize that he may never understand or accept it. But now, in spite of it all, he feels like he has family again. For the first time in years, he feels really cared for and accepted without reservations.

Late Sunday night, they are driving back to Columbus in comfortable silence, tired from all the talking they've been doing all day. Blaine closes his eyes and in a flash he can see the future unwinding before them. The first I love you, easy and certain after all this time. Living together, waking up every day to Kurt's warm presence a heartbeat away. Somewhere down the road, a proposal, something spontaneous and far from formal, and very them. A wedding, undoubtedly perfectly planned - well, just perfect in general, because it's Kurt, it's them. Marriage and children, everyday life and family vacations, Christmases and visits in Lima. Dreams, laughter, tears. Life, together.

Happiness filling him completely, Blaine opens his eyes to look at Kurt's beautiful profile and smiles with tenderness. His voice quivers a little when he speaks.

"Thank you. For waiting for me. For helping me discover who I am. For everything."

Gradual intimacy turns out to be fine and dandy – in theory. They want to actually try dating, but they soon realize it is hardly different from what they've been doing all along, only now they're allowed to kiss and touch, stare at each other openly and hold hands. And since the only thing that is new is the physical side of their relationship, well… they make sure they get a lot of practice. Really, a lot. And it's not easy to stop when you're a young, sexually active male who finally has the person of his dreams in his arms. And his bed. Because sleeping separately is so overrated.

Kurt breaks first, or maybe he's just the first one to say it aloud. Just three days after they get together, late at night, with his tongue mapping the exact topography of Blaine's chest and his hand sneaking under the cotton of his pants, he groans, "Blaine, I know we said at least a month, but I really think it's too much. I'd say… three weeks maybe?". And Blaine can only moan his agreement when his boyfriend's fingers ghost over his cock after months of missing his touch, months that feel like lifetime.

A week in, Blaine looks up from where he's kneeling on the floor, still only half-dressed before going to work, and pauses in licking the last drops of come off from Kurt's stomach - they're both safe, they made sure about it – to murmur "Are you sure two weeks wouldn't be enough?"

Finally, they manage to last ten days.

They go to the club that evening. Neither of them drinks much this time and they spend most of the night dancing together, letting the music lace their blood with sweet madness of rhythm and vibrations, getting closer, so close they feel like they're almost grinding right there on the dance floor, turned on and lost in each other.

Around eleven, Kurt disappears for a moment to go to the restroom and Blaine finds himself being hit on by some guy. Obviously, he's not interested, but the man is hard to discourage and he's still rolling his hips seductively, dancing in front of him when Blaine glances to the right to see Kurt rooted to the floor motionless, his eyes wide and pupils blown, something scary flashing over his face. In the next instant Kurt straightens up and it's like a complete transformation right before Blaine's eyes; one blink and there's no sign of the flushed, playful, smiling man left. Instead, there's model-Kurt, breathtakingly beautiful and cold, so cold as he struts across the dance floor like he owns it, every move calculated and cat-like, eyes like steel. By the time he's ten feet away from them, the man who was flirting with Blaine is staring at Kurt with his mouth open. He's not the only one. Kurt is a force of nature when he's like this. As soon as he reaches Blaine's side, Kurt smiles and traces his fingers down his boyfriend's chest before looking at the stranger, his best bitch face on and his voice rough.

"Keep the fuck away from my man."

The guy just turns away, disappearing into the crowd as fast as he can, and Blaine's legs feel like jelly. He's heard Kurt swear occasionally, he's seen him in model mode, but this scene, the clear possessiveness and the territoriality of it is hotter than anything he's ever seen. God, he's got the sexiest boyfriend ever. Honestly, instead of dancing, he just wants to find a private place and ravish Kurt, two weeks be damned. But he doesn't and for the rest of the evening they never separate, Kurt clearly claiming his territory, touching, kissing, making sure no one doubts for a second that Blaine is his.

Hours later, in his apartment, Blaine wakes up from the best erotic dream he's ever had to find Kurt sucking him off hungrily in the pale light of dawn. Just looking at Kurt like this, naked and lithe, his hair a mess, mouth stretched over Blaine's cock, is almost too much. Blaine's hips stutter, bucking up into the tight heat, but Kurt pulls up, releasing his cock and Blaine groans. There's something wild in Kurt's eyes this morning, some glint of madness as he reaches towards the bedside drawer. His voice is low and rough and Blaine's heart races at the raw desire he can hear there.

"Blaine, if you don't want to, just tell me, but if you do, I can't. Wait. A second. Longer. You're so fucking gorgeous I can't think, I can't sleep because I want you so much." The speed with which Blaine opens his legs for him is answer enough, and almost immediately Kurt's finger slides in, teasing, quickly followed by a second one. Kurt keeps talking, frantic and breathless. "I want to take you, make you mine, truly, fully mine. I want to stretch you open, fill you and make love to you, slow and long, until you beg me to let you come. I want to make it so good for you; so good you'll never, ever even think about wanting anyone else."

Kurt's fingers are magic by themselves, but the way he talks – the words, the tone, the low, primal sound of his voice – it makes Blaine's blood boil with pure, animalistic lust and he's moaning with abandon, unable to control his reactions in any way. His brain submits to the possessiveness in Kurt's voice and Blaine gives up, opens himself to be taken and owned and loved. Because that's what it is now. He just lies, naked and vulnerable, feeling Kurt's love flow through him. He can feel it in the way Kurt works him open, constantly kissing, licking, sucking hungrily on the skin of Blaine's thighs, his hips, his stomach.

"God, you're so tight, so hot and so fucking mine." Kurt sucks at his nipple now, his fingers moving at a languid pace, slowly driving Blaine crazy. "I was the first one who saw you like this, who got to take you and love you and see you come undone, and it was the most beautiful thing in my life. It was a gift no one else gets to have from you, ever, and you have no idea how special that makes me feel. Even when I was sure we'd never be together, this was something, in this one small way, that made you mine, forever."

Blaine keens, reaching to pull his lover closer, and Kurt sucks at his neck hard, with a hint of teeth. There's bound to be a mark tomorrow and the thought makes Blaine whimper. A smile is spreading across Kurt's face.

"You like this, do you? You like me marking you, showing everyone that you're owned, that you're mine?"

Blaine manages to choke out a ragged yes and then there are only Kurt's lips and teeth, sucking on the verge of painful, leaving marks of his love where everyone will see. His fingers slide in and out, fast, faster, just right, until Blaine begs for it.

"Please, Kurt, please, now."

And Kurt understands – of course he understands, it's like their minds are somehow connected most of the time, now more than ever, and he slides his fingers out of Blaine, leaves him empty and aching. Seconds later he's back though, a condom on, raising Blaine's knees up, positioning himself and pushing in, slowly and surely.

The second he's fully in, he stills, they both do, just breathing raggedly and looking into each other's eyes in the early morning sun, blue-grey on amber; frantic movements and desperate need gone. They're here, they're one, together, closer than ever before, because now it's not just physical, it's love and care and tenderness, all tangled into unbreakable, intricate knot with need and desire.

Kurt leans forward and when their lips touch, it's like closing a circuit, their bodies connecting completely as their mouths imitate what their hips are doing; rocking slowly, tongues sliding in and out, loving each other so completely they hardly know where one ends and the other begins. It feels like hours filled with kisses and delicious pressure and roaming hands, sounds of passion and words of awe and delight whispered frantically into each other's mouth, against the slick, sweaty skin.

They fight to keep their eyes open even as they reach the edge, taking in all the beauty of the moment. Whispers turn into moans, keens, and the final shuddering Mine as Kurt trembles and comes. Blaine follows right behind, stunned into silence, just two words falling into the sun filled, heavy air.

Yours. Forever.


End notes: That's it. No, there'll be no sequel to this story, in case you wondered ;)

On a side note: if you read and liked my Breathe 'verse, come back on Friday – the first chapter of the threequel, Leave Me Breathless, will be up.