One Word , a Glee fiction

I do not own Glee. Please review!

Blaine knew that he could tell Kurt anything, but didn't always tell him everything. There were memories from his past; ones that haunted him, and would haunt Kurt too if he ever found out. He refused to put that all on his shoulders, no matter how much he pled. Not at first, but one day, finally he opened up about his past because he had to tell him something. He felt relief.

Kurt had kissed a girl and felt nothing. Or at least, no love and lust. He felt content having pleased his dad. Content didn't cut it when Kurt kissed a boy. Not any old boy, but there was one specific boy that not even Mary Poppins could describe. And she was the queen of .

Blaine would never admit it, but the first time he told Kurt he loved him he was drunk. The chest next to his was breathing slowly. He was asleep and missed the elaborate declaration of Blaine had murmured in his dreams. Sober, he shared his feelings, only being love drunk.

Kurt had an aversion towards slushies. They were cold as an iceberg, dripping down his face to stain his designer clothes. When Blaine invited him out for ice cream he relearned how to love the taste of cold strawberries again. One cone, two boys.

Blaine thought he was coming down with the flu. There was no other explanation for the feeling in his stomach. It was nearly Christmas, and he had asked Kurt to duet with him. He hoped he hadn't caught something. Luckily, or not so, it turned out to be a case of the butterflies. Kurt did that to him sometimes.

Kurt had an addiction to coffee. His frequent trips to the Lima Bean were soon replaced when they bought a coffee maker at a garage sale. Every afternoon he'd enjoy a cup, like the clockwork they had developed. When his daughter turned three, she started hosting tea parties. He attended, and soon his daily cup of coffee was replaced by tea. Blaine grew to love the taste.

Blaine had always been the sort to wish on dandelions. He wished one day his prince would come. He did, ten years later, stopping him in his tracks on the stairs. Then he started picking daisies, plucking the petals. Did he love him, did he love him not? He did love him, and Blaine proposed, with a rose.

Kurt had the voice of an angel. When he sang, Blaine swore he saw a pair of wings poke out from behind. But Kurt could be quite the criminal. It had to be illegal to look that good.

Blaine was the type to put peanut butter on his bagel. Kurt preferred blackberry jelly. It was something they'd never agree on, but when they kissed they both agreed that it tasted like kindergarten. Both moms had always packed PB&J.

Kurt could give Blaine a look that said a thousand words while being dead silent. There were other times he could be very loud. His vocabulary seemed to limit to moans and Blaine's name at those times.

Blaine was the kind to remember his umbrella. He had made it a habit during his days at Dalton, not wanting to ruin his uniform. One day, when it seemed the rain had cleared, he went out with Kurt in his rain boots. It began to pour and soon Blaine had learned sometimes it's alright to not be prepared.

Kurt had shed many tears in his life. Tears of sorrow when his mother passed. Tears of pain when Karofsky pushed him into lockers and kissed him senseless. He had enough sense to back away at that point. Not all tears shed were bad. Accepting the rose, Kurt felt tears run down his face. Tears of joy. The ring slid onto his finger.

Blaine had trained himself to lock the door behind himself. He came home to an empty house, and didn't want anybody sneaking in while his headphones were in. Or when he was daydreaming in the shower. On an unfortunate Saturday afternoon he had forgotten his key in his room. It had been attached to his car keys, left on the table when Kurt picked him up. Nudging the welcome mat aside, he picked up the spare key. Two weeks later he found Kurt sitting on his bed, holding up a puppy.

Kurt was a fan of bowties. They were the perfect complement to an outfit when it was too warm for a scarf. He wore them often. One day, when he was still attending Dalton, Blaine pulled him aside and yanked him forward with his necktie. Kurt decided that maybe neckties weren't so bad after all.

Blaine used to feel lonely. Like there was some presence absent from his life. One that could make the clouds go away on a rainy day, make the scars on his body fade into a distant memory. Then Blaine met Kurt. And suddenly that presence was very much present.

Kurt was known for his flawless skin. So when he came back to the apartment he was sharing with his fiancé with a blotch of color sticking out from the sleeve of his t-shirt, Blaine's curiosity was piqued. Rolling up the sleeve he saw what appeared to be a tattoo. Tinkerbell stared back at him. For Kurt to get a tattoo was a surprise in itself. Getting a permanent fairy on his arm was unbelievable. When Kurt had explained that it had been simply a gag gift Puck had sent him and that it was temporary Blaine went out to the store and got a Peter Pan to match.

Blaine knew in an instant that Kurt was different. It wasn't the poor attempt at a uniform, though it was a good tipoff. That gleam in his eye, the feeling he caused inside of Blaine wasn't familiar. He knew right away he wanted to get to know him. It took time to find out just how much he wanted to.

Kurt loved to dance. He sprung from one side of the room to the other. He loved the fast paced tempo, working up a sweat. Blaine, being the dapper boy that he was offered his hand to Kurt. He accepted it gratefully, and began to slow dance. With his arm around him, Kurt could almost say that he liked slow dancing better. Almost.

Blaine woke up early to watch the sunrise. He took a picture with his camera phone and sent a text to Kurt. When he headed for bed that night he checked his messages to find a picture of the sunset in his inbox. Each had their own caption, doting on how the recipient was more beautiful than the sun itself in their own mushy words.

Kurt and Blaine waited in the airport for their plane to arrive. In-between them sat a piece of paper covered in games of tic tac toe. Kurt was X and Blaine was O. When Kurt would win, they'd kiss, seeing as he was the x, and they hugged when he lost. Blaine liked letting Kurt win.

Blaine was a fan of animation. Especially if it came from Walt Disney. So when he dragged Kurt to the theaters, only to find out that the limited showing of Lion King 3D was sold out he sullenly agreed to get tickets for the latest thriller movie. The effects were horrid, as in any low budget live action film and the pair spent the duration of the movie fooling around in the back row. Best ten dollars ever spent.

Kurt hated his brother's mustache. He had tried growing one and now that he had it he refused to shave it off. He looked ridiculous, like a caterpillar attacked his upper lip. He wanted to outgrow his friend from work, who had bet him a month's supply of Oreos that he could grow a longer mustache. Facial hair looked good on a select few in his opinion. Blaine walked into the bedroom, with a beard of stubble. Now that was attractive.

Blaine remembered at one point he liked Jeremiah. He thought it was more. He was wrong. He kissed Kurt and one thing became clear. This was love.