A/N: Yeah, I don't know what this is. I started it months ago, and I've only just found the time to finish it. Enjoy!

Sunlight and Moonbeams

There's something magical in the way that Kurt shines. Blaine noticed it when they first met; the casual glances, the upright posture, the slight lilt in his voice. Heat and light energy radiate out of Kurt like he's the sun, like every planet in the solar system should revolve around him. From the moment they meet, Blaine feels an inexplicable pull towards the other boy, gravity keeping him prisoner and not letting him go. Blaine knows it's what made him take Kurt's hand that fateful day in the hall, pull him along, sing him a love song in front of half his school. Kurt is special; Kurt is the sun.

By comparison, Blaine is the moon. He shines at night, when secret words of lust and passion are traded. He's smaller, more turned in. Quieter, less confident, however he might pretend otherwise. And most importantly, he needs a sun to shine. He doesn't have any light of his own, however much he might like to imagine, however much he might try to steal it from others. And he does steal it. Every time Kurt smiles, every time Blaine takes that energy and uses it to make himself glow brighter. Just because he can.

Blaine's moon isn't supposed to orbit Kurt's sun. That's not how it works. Moons go round planets, and suns pull everyone in. Kurt pulls everyone in. From the girls who befriend him, to the boys at Dalton who stare as he walks the hallways, to the jocks at McKinley who hate him for reasons they don't fully understand. He attracts everyone's attention, good and bad alike.

Blaine isn't like that at all. Everyone loves the moon, the way it guides over them at their darkest hours, the way it always shines and looks the same to everyone, no matter where or who they are. In the same way, Blaine is a friend to all, attracts everyone to him and makes them feel safe. He is there when Wes catches his girlfriend cheating on him, when David's grandfather dies and both boys need someone to hug them close and whisper words of comfort to them. Because that's what moons do: they comfort.

Kurt and Blaine might not be meant to orbit together, in the same way that the moon and sun shouldn't, but they do anyway. And to everyone's surprise, it works. Kurt replaces Blaine's false confidence with the real thing, gives him his own light to shine instead of using the others. Blaine stops singing acapella and steps away on his own, singing the songs he wants to do with no need of the council's backing or the Warbler's help. He learns that he doesn't have to be strong all the time, doesn't have to be constantly changing and can just be. Kurt gives that to him.

And Kurt? Blaine gives Kurt the warmth he naturally lacks. Suns are hot on their own, but if anyone gets close to them, they get burnt up and destroyed. Only a few select things get close to a sun, but never too close. Blaine helps Kurt get over that, helps him to let people in, to let people see him for who he is. And Kurt loves him for it.

Because, when you think about it, isn't that what life comes down to? Isn't that was love is? Two flawed, fractured boys clinging to each other, falling through space as their true forms; sunlight and moonbeams intertwined.