A/N: This was written for the KissKiss Valentines exchange at the kurt_blaine comm on livejournal. It was a lot of fun to write, and I hope you guys enjoy it! Big thanks to whenidance on lj for beta reading,

Blaine Anderson aimed for perfection in every aspect of his life. He wasn't stupid. He knew it wasn't really possible. Since he'd arrived at Dalton as a shivering mess of nerves and paranoia, and had garnered weird looks when he jumped at every sound, he'd decided that nothing could be gained from letting people see you at your worst. So even if he knew he tended to come across as a little stiff, or even superior, he also knew he never came off as weak, or as a victim. And he never gave anyone anything they could hold over him. So maybe his friends didn't actually know that much about him. They were still his friends. Then he met Kurt Hummel, who let Blaine in within a day farther than Blaine had let anyone in in over two years. And he kind of had to rethink his whole philosophy.

Kurt reminded Blaine of the ocean. He'd been to the coast about a million times as a kid, and, as a solitary and withdrawn child, he used to sit and watch the water change colour. Then he grew up and started watching Kurt's eyes change colour instead. The first time Blaine noticed was in the café, after they'd confronted him for spying. He started talking about being bullied and his eyes were this cold translucent blue, like it was winter on the beach. When Blaine drove out to McKinley to confront Karofsky they were grey-tinged and opaque, like clean water on a cloudy day. And when Kurt said it was his first kiss he got taken over by the urge to lean in and show the other boy how a kiss should really feel, to try and burn the clouds away. But Kurt was dealing with Karofsky, and Blaine believes in equality in relationships, so starting one when all he wanted to do was stand in front of Kurt and shield him from the world would be far from the perfection that he sought after. It was clear that neither of them were ready for a relationship with the other.

As Kurt walked through his first day at Dalton his expression was smug and confident but his eyes were the same colour they were when Blaine first noticed them. It made Blaine feel terrible, because he knew before it happened that Kurt would get shot down at his first Warblers rehearsal, and he hadn't managed to stop it happening. There was no way Kurt would think things would be anything less than perfect for him, and no way Wes would take into account any suggestions from someone who'd just transferred and didn't know the group dynamic yet. When Kurt's cheerful expression slid from his face and his eyes lost the playful green tinge they'd gained on his entrance into the rehearsal room, Blaine couldn't help thinking he should have found a way to stop it happening. Because knowing something bad was going to happen and doing nothing was far from perfect behaviour. So he decided he needed to make it better. His first attempt was nominating Kurt for the tenor solo, confident it would be within the younger boy's range. It did start helping, because his audition was fantastic, and Blaine could see the group starting to wonder what they could do with Kurt's voice, but Blaine knew before it was half over that Kurt wouldn't get the part. Because when you're part of a choir that sings mostly pop songs, and you audition with 'Don't Cry For Me Argentina' against kids who sing 'I'm Yours' and 'Waking Up In Vegas' it's pretty clear who knows what the choir needs. Blaine tried to smooth it over by telling Kurt he'd fit in soon enough, and that solely wanting to be heard won't get him anywhere. He knew Kurt understood on some levels, but he could tell that he wasn't entirely OK. So he needed to make sure Kurt knew exactly what he meant. Which is how Blaine ended up standing outside Kurt's room after class, waiting for him and hoping he wouldn't be going to the library or anything. Luckily he'd only been there for about ten minutes before Kurt appeared at the end of the hall. He looked confused and apprehensive when he saw Blaine, who attempted to grin charmingly in response. All he received from Kurt was a flat, annoyed look as he unlocked his room.

"Are you here to talk to me about how soon I'll be indistinguishable from the group, again?" Blaine felt his grin dim several watts, and mentally cursed the fact that when you're seventeen it's hard to appear wise to someone taller than you.

"That's actually what I'm here to talk to you about," Kurt huffed and opened the door, indicating for Blaine to walk through. He followed Blaine in, pushed the door shut, and folded his arms, fixing Blaine with a steady gaze.

"You know what I went through at McKinley. But the thing is, I never let any of that stop me being who I am. And yeah, you're being a bit nicer to me than they were. But why should I let you be any different?" Blaine swallowed, and realised he had no idea what he should be doing with his hands, and he was just holding them awkwardly in front of him.

"I'm not asking you to do that," he said, because telling Kurt that he thought he was amazing as his was probably wouldn't be appropriate. Kurt snorted and pushed past Blaine to sit as the chair beside his desk.

"Isn't that what you implied when you said I'd fit in?" And there it was, the perfect opportunity, so Blaine pounced.

"No. Fitting in is… finding the place where who you are helps the group." Kurt gave him a flat look. "Seriously." Even though he'd managed to stop himself saying it before he can't help it, "I wouldn't change a thing about you. But the Warblers aren't just you, or a group of people like you. There are a lot of us, and we each bring different things to the table." Kurt scowled.

"And some things are more acceptable. Like classic solo worthy voices such as your own." Blaine raised an eyebrow at him in response.

"Well, yeah, I do have that. But I also bring a complete inability to remember when we're supposed to switch which hand we snap on." He realised that he'd admitted one of his flaws, which he usually never would, when the corner of Kurt's mouth quirked up, but the breakthrough with the other boy made him grin like an idiot, so he could push it aside. He sat down on the end of Kurt's bed, next to the desk. "It's hard being new. Especially when you've just gone through what you've had. But I swear it gets better." Kurt smiled again, though it was a little bittersweet.

"You're ridiculously endearing when you're earnest, did you know?" Blaine blinked and flushed. Kurt sighed. "And I guess you're right. All guns blazing probably wasn't the best way to go in. And it was easier to imagine that I was in the wrong than to think about the fact that I made a bad impression." Blaine grinned.

"Wes is a bit of a control freak. He'll mellow out when we aren't days from Sectionals." Pavarotti started singing from his place on Kurt's desk, and they both glanced at the cage. Then Blaine looked at Kurt and saw that his eyes were the bright blue-green of salt water over white sand on a flawlessly sunny day, and Blaine thought it might just be a perfect moment.

At Sectionals Kurt's eyes were cloudy again, and Blaine knew that he was worrying about competing against New Directions. Blaine tried to draw him into conversation, but he failed miserably. When he went to find Kurt for places he didn't even want to interrupt because Kurt looked more relaxed then he had in about three days. But he knew if they were late then Wes would be even more crabby and stressed than he already was. The girl who Kurt was talking to gave him a small, unsure smile, and Blaine absurdly wondered if Kurt had spoken about him.

Kurt looked even more terrified when they got on the stage and Blaine wished there was something he could do to make the younger boy smile. Instead he had to focus on hitting his own marks, and his own notes, and presenting the unified face of the Warblers to the audience. So he threw himself into the show. At some point he noticed several members of New Directions smiling, and he was intensely glad that they didn't seem to be holding his transfer against him. Which became more apparent when everyone went backstage after the tie was called and Kurt was immediately accosted for a pile of hugs. Blaine, who'd been talking to the other boy at the time, felt a little bit cheated. It was kind of ridiculous, because he'd had Kurt basically to himself for the previous two weeks, and the other choir had obviously been missing him. He had to restrain himself anyway, because, even if he was becoming closer to a friend than a mentor, he thought, or hoped, that Kurt looked up to him. It really wouldn't be appropriate to appear to resent Kurt's friends for monopolising him when he'd only known the younger boy for a month. Mercedes said 'hi' to him amicably enough, though several of the others gave him wary looks, and he wondered if they thought he'd stolen Kurt away. Then, Wes came over to make some snippy comments about how maybe if Blaine had been able to perform all the choreography properly they would have scraped ahead of the other team, and Blaine let an imperfection he could actually work on distract him.

Kurt caught up with them as they gathered by the bus that was going to take them back to Dalton, looking pleased. Blaine felt a little mollified when the taller boy automatically swung into the seat next to him.

"How were your friends?" Kurt grinned widely, eyes bright blue-green again.

"Good! It was nice to see them all again." He leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, and Blaine pushed aside the errant wish that he could be the one to make Kurt smile like that. Something must have shown on his face, though, because when Kurt opened his eyes he got this weird knowing look on his face, and Blaine flushed and looked away.

"You're allowed to miss them, you know." He said, in an attempt to distract the other boy. When he glanced sideways, though, Kurt was still smiling that smug smile.

"Yeah, I do." Then he changed the subject, which Blaine appreciated, because it was hard to present a controlled face when it felt like someone was looking straight past it. He got the distinct impression that Kurt had changed it for his own benefit though, which meant it didn't help as much as it should have. When they got back to Dalton, Blaine walked Kurt to his room, only to be taken right back to the moment on the bus when Kurt turned around in his open doorway and said, "You're allowed to be jealous of them you know," and then, smirking, eyes a playful aqua, shut the door in Blaine's face.

Kurt kept dropping similar hints for the next month. They started out ridiculous – telling Blaine quite seriously that no one would hate him if his shirt was shoddily ironed, or if he had cream and sugar in his coffee. Despite the inanity of the comments Blaine wasn't sure how he should feel about it. Because most people didn't even notice his relentless quest for perfection, much less start bugging him about its necessity. He found it confusing and strange, and resolved to ignore it, which ended up being a lot harder than he'd anticipated when Kurt kept looking at him with eyes that were blue-green like tide pools, and saying things like "You know, Blaine, no one's going to think any less of you if you slip over on a banana peel every once in a while," and Blaine just couldn't think of anything to say in response.

It didn't really help when Blaine's dad called to check up on him. They talked about grades and uniforms but continued his perfect streak of rebuffing and avoiding any topic that could come even close to Blaine's sexuality. Wes, and Thad, and David, and everyone else just assumed he'd be fine quietly dealing with it in private like he usually did, but someone must have told Kurt. Who obviously thought differently, and who came to Blaine's room after class, when Blaine was sitting on his bed staring at the wall. Kurt sat down beside him, picked up his hand, intertwined their fingers and said very quietly "You're allowed to be upset, you know." And Blaine just gripped the other boys hand very tightly, because otherwise he knew he'd do something stupid, and emotional, and flawed. Kurt sat with him, and held his hand, and didn't say anything else.

Everything came to a head about right at the start of February. The entirety of Dalton got thrown into mourning when Stephen Greenall, a Junior, hit ice on the wrong angle in his car and slid into a lamppost. It was that weird thing where everyone in the school seemed to feel the loss even though the vast majority of the student body only knew the kid on sight. Blaine had tutored him the previous year, for his World History class, though. But even then, he kind of felt like he was feeling it too much. He'd known the kid, sure, but he'd never really been one of his friends. His friends were the ones sitting in the first few rows of pew at the funeral with young, white faces. Blaine stood, straight and strong, near the back, feeling guilty for feeling as crappy as he did.

Kurt stood next to him, and held his hand as tightly as he could. Blaine's was white knuckled around the other boy's fingers. He didn't remember the funeral later, really. Just images of standing in the group of Dalton uniforms in the cemetery, and Stephen Greenall's mother's face, streaked with tears, a white blur against the mass of people in black, and the hand wrapped tightly around his.

When they got back to Dalton Kurt dragged him to his room, sat him on the bed, and crouched in front of him. Then he took both of Blaine's hands in his, stared at him with eyes the grey-blue of the sea when a storm rolled in, and said "You're allowed to cry, Blaine," and it hit Blaine in the chest like he'd been punched and he broke down. He struggled to keep himself grounded until Kurt's arms wrapped around him and did it for him. He couldn't keep anything back anymore. They ended up lying together on Kurt's bed, with Blaine's face buried in Kurt's shoulder. When he finally felt in control enough to breathe steadily he drew back a little, though Kurt's arm clamped around his shoulders kept him from moving too far.

"I snotted all over your blazer. Sorry." He can't think of a less dignified thing he could have done. Kurt huffed slightly in response, and then Blaine felt the other boy's lips brush his forehead lightly.

"I won't hold it against you." Blaine sniffed in a futile attempt to clear his nose, and Kurt's fingers slid to card through his hair. "Don't be scared to do this again, OK?" Blaine blinked slowly against Kurt's neck, feeling wrung out and sleepy. It took him a long time to think of an appropriate response.

"… Sure," he said finally, and he vaguely felt Kurt's lips ghost across his forehead again, before he drifted off to sleep.

Blaine Anderson was not perfect. He held things in, and got himself worked up and stressed, and felt guilty about stupid things. And, some would say, he was a little too obsessed with the ever-changing eyes of one Kurt Hummel. But Kurt didn't mind. Especially when it meant he saw a side of Blaine that no one else did. He knew he should encourage Blaine to start talking to other people, David, or Wes, or someone he hadn't ended up dating. And he would. In time. But for a while he was way too interested in keeping all of Blaine's imperfection to himself. Because, hey, Kurt wasn't perfect either.