Summary: Young and old, male and female, residents and tourists alike wrote and put their love letters in the mail box. Letters that were decorated with lipsticks and perfumes, some brightly colored; other still plain and simple. So many people started to submit their letters, and yet the mail box never over flowed. It was obvious that whoever originally put the mail box on the street had a key and emptied it regularly, but the identity was a mystery. The letters themselves were never delivered. Instead, the act of writing a love letter and putting it in the mail box became like therapy.
Secret admirer fic with a bit of a twist.
People don’t know where it came from or who installed the mail box on a fairly sleepy street corner in the city. It wasn’t as frequented by tourist usually, far enough from Times Square so that, sometime during the night, a vibrant pink mail box was bolted down to the sidewalk. The mail box itself was the same as a standard American postal service drop box, save for the color. On the sides there was red lettering which read,
“Secret Admirer Mail Box: Submit your love letters you’re too afraid to actually send”
And people did. The mail box had been there for 3 years now and not a day went by a letter wasn’t slipped into the mail box. It was slow at first, tentative glances as people walk by the mailbox. People pausing and reading the text. Soon, people began to walk up nervously, letters clutched in their hands. Some stood in front of the mail box for several minutes before finally opening the flap and dropping it in. Others hurriedly slipped it in before walking off quickly.
Young and old, male and female, residents and tourists alike wrote and put their love letters in the mail box. Letters that were decorated with lipsticks and perfumes, some brightly colored; other still plain and simple. So many people started to submit their letters, and yet the mail box never over flowed. It was obvious that whoever originally put the mail box on the street had a key and emptied it regularly, but the identity was a mystery. The letters themselves were never delivered. Instead, the act of writing a love letter and putting it in the mail box became like therapy. The news spreads quickly and every romantic who knows about it and goes to New York submits their letters. It’s freeing, for these people, to send off letters to unrequited loves without the intent of sending them.
But after about three years of this, that ends.
Kurt and Blaine are both accepted to NYADA. They open their letters, along with Rachel, and celebrate together. Their auditions had been particularly stressful. Kurt had gone through many different decisions, finally settling on “Being Alive” at the last possible moment. He’d thought he’d blown it, later on when he saw on NYADA chat rooms that was a song performed way too much in auditions.
But in the end, it worked out. Kurt was on his way to New York with his two very best friends. It’s actually quite outstanding, that two people from McKinley and a third student from a school just an hour away. For the last three years, more really, Kurt had been working up to this moment. When he met Blaine when they were sophomores, Kurt hadn’t ever really met someone with the same dreams as him (besides Rachel Berry of course, and back then he could barely stand her), but after that, he had someone to talk to. To strive with. He and Blaine were best friends. He’d had a few hard months the year he met Blaine. Bullies and his dad’s heart attack – he’d be close to transferring to Dalton Academy, where Blaine went, but in the end it was too expensive.
Things worked out. Time passed. He was never fully accepted at McKinley, of course, but his ultimate tormentor Karofksy transferred schools. He had Blaine to vent to, just be with, and made stronger friends with Rachel (surprisingly).
Of course, there was the small problem that Kurt had been in love with Blaine since day one.
Well, not in love. That was probably too strong a word. It’s not like they were together, or even close to it. No, they were just…friends. It’s all they would ever be, as Kurt didn’t foresee things changing after three years. Blaine didn’t see him that way and, honestly, after building up such a good friendship, Kurt didn’t want to rock the boat.
And that didn’t really matter. He, Blaine and Rachel were all going to New York together. Blaine had been forced into living in the dorms for the first year by his parents instead of getting an apartment with Rachel and Kurt. They wanted him to socialize, although Blaine thought it probably had more to do with them not wanting him to live with another gay guy, “even though we’ve been friends forever anyways!” Blaine had said, rolling his eyes. Kurt let the comment roll off his back.
New York was more than he had dreamed it would be. The classes were tough, of course, but it was all Kurt had ever wanted after all. It challenged him and was making him better.
He also made new friends. An upper classman, Adam, who was in a group called the Apples started to talk to him when he was standing in the cafeteria waiting for a fresh plate of what Kurt hoped was turkey.
“Word to the wise, don’t get the hot lunch,” Adam had said, coming up behind him. His accent, super cute actually, startled him and Kurt turned. “Best stick to the cold stuff – sandwiches or other prepackaged stuff. Really, I learned the hard way. Absolutely traumatizing.”
Kurt looks from the guy to the food again. And yes, it doesn’t look promising at all. “Thanks for the heads up –“
And so they do become friends. Blaine and Rachel don’t have the same lunch break as him, but Adam does, so it means not sitting alone. Plus Adam is rather funny and never denies Kurt when he asks him to do Downton Abbey for the hundredth time.
“So, Kurt, you have completed your first full month at NYADA,” says Adam as they sit down for lunch. “How do you feel?”
“Exhausted, but victorious,” says Kurt. “Did it feel like this for you?”
“Oh, tons worse I’d wager,” says Adam with a kind smile. “It doesn’t exactly get easier, but you’ll learn how to keep up more.”
“I’m just sad I haven’t gotten to do very much sightseeing yet,” says Kurt. “Rachel, Blaine and I all wanted to do something together one weekend, but we just haven’t had the time.” He tries not to feel a pang. He and Rachel live in the same apartment and barely see each other nowadays. She’s completely absorbed in her dance class from hell and Brody, an upperclassman she’d met her first week and was her rebound from Finn.
And Blaine. Well, obviously since Blaine lived on campus he was meeting many more people than Kurt and he’d always been popular, Kurt knew that, but they’d only been chatting through text lately.
“Well, you can always do some small things on your own,” says Adam. “In fact, have you heard of the Secret Admirer Mail Box? It’s only a few blocks from campus.”
“Wait – what?”
“It’s become sort of a New York staple. It’s not overly well known or anything – but it is known all over. I had heard about it in England from a friend who visited during our last year of school.”
“What is it?” asks Kurt.
“Exactly what it sounds like,” laughs Adam. “It’s this bright pink mail box and there is this note on it that tells people to submit their love letters that they don’t want to send.”
“And what – mails them?” asks Kurt, a spike of fear going through him. He thinks of Blaine, because of course he would.
“No no, not at all,” says Adam. “I mean, someone picks them up – no one knows who – but they don’t get sent.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve put two in in the last two years,” says Adam with a shy smile. “And my crushes have never exactly come to me holding my letter. It’s more therapeutic than anything. Writing down your thoughts for a person, as if you’re talking to them, without the stress of actually giving it to them.”
“How long has it been there?” asks Kurt. He has to admit, the romantic in him thinks it’s lovely.
“Three years or so,” says Adam. “Apparently it just appeared overnight.”
There is a small pause in their conversation as Kurt hesitates to speak. “And – why did you feel the need to tell me about this?” he asks, keeping his voice light.
Adam looks up from his sandwich with a gentle smile. “I think you know why,” he says kindly, not exactly looking for a reply.
Kurt does. The amount of time he spends talking about Blaine, his best friend – how Blaine is funny, and talented and gorgeous.
Of course Adam can tell Kurt has a crush on Blaine. In fact, Kurt is pretty certain that Blaine is the only one that doesn’t know.
“Oh,” says Kurt quietly. “I see.”
Adam continues to smile at him. “You don’t have to tell anyone you like them if you’re too scared to do so,” says Adam. “Everyone moves at their own pace – but I like this mail box because it lets me write down my thoughts and feelings and send them out into the world. Just knowing they are out there, somewhere, takes some weight off me. I’m sure it would be good for you, too.”
Kurt thinks about Adams words for the rest of the day.
That night, Kurt is pulling out a piece of paper and pen without quite thinking it through. He stares at the blankness of the page for a long time before finally pressing the tip of the pen to it, finally writing, “Dear Blaine,” in the top left hand corner.
After that, the words flow out easily. They have always been there, after all, lurking under the surface.
I can’t believe I’m actually writing this. An actual love letter. I feel like a teenage girl or something. But you’ll never see this and I have to say, it almost feels nice, being able to say these things after all these years.
The truth is, I’ve liked you since that first day we met at Dalton and you took my hand and sang to me. I know it was just a performance and we both know how good you are at selling a show – but it felt so real then. Like I was the only one in the room and you were singing just for me. You were the first person to ever really “get” me. You were gay and you understood what I had gone through; you didn’t tell me about Sadie Hawkins for a few months, but I know you had gone through some of the same things I did. You were there to listen to me and to give me comfort and all of that means the world to me.
Which is probably why I never wanted to complicate things. I never told you I had a crush on you, even though I wanted to many times. Especially our first Valentine’s day together, after you sang to Jeremiah. I had thought you were going to ask me out, which obviously didn’t happen. But I felt like there was a choice: you obviously didn’t like me in that way and I didn’t want to lose you as a friend. I didn’t – don’t – want to lose the comfort you give me. So if that means a choice between never telling you how I feel and keeping you as a friend, then I’ll choose you every time. I need you in my life, no matter what the context, Blaine.
But I do like you. Maybe even love. Because love means you like the person no matter what, no matter their faults, right? That you see yourself with that person for the rest of your life and that imagining life without them is – is too much to even stand. So if that’s love, I love you, Blaine.
I’m okay without you knowing this, most days, because it means things won’t be awkward. Obviously after three years as friends there is nothing more than that between us. I even saw you date (however short lived it was) Sebastian Smythe for god’s sake. I know there will never be more between us and I’m on my way to being completely okay with that. Because one day, you’ll find a guy that will love you and you’ll love back and I will be happy to see you happy. And maybe one day I’ll find the same thing.
This has gotten too long. But I just wanted to write this down, maybe just for myself.
Kurt doesn’t read over the letter when he’s finished. He seals it in an envelope and even goes through the process of properly addressing it to Blaine. He texts Adam for the location of the mailbox and he gives it to him without any questions.
The next morning, before school, Kurt stops off to find it. It’s pretty simple. The mailbox is a bright pink color and hard to miss. He sees a woman standing at it, slipping in a letter and hurrying away, her shoes clicking on the sidewalk in her haste. Kurt goes up next, hesitating more. He looks down at his envelope and wonders: is he ready to let this go?
Yes, he is.
Because Kurt doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life hung up on someone who will never love him back. Maybe this will be the first real step in letting Blaine, in a romantic context, go.
So Kurt slips the letter in the mail slot and walks away, feeling much lighter because of it.
It’s not like Kurt’s feelings go away by any means, but he feels better about them now. He might be in love with his best friend, but he’s not going to let that ruin their friendship.
He and Blaine are still busy with school, but they find more time to hang out together in the next few weeks after Kurt wrote the letter. Adam even joins them. Going out for drinks and Adam bringing them back from the bar, he and Blaine sparing one (because both of them are admitted lightweights anyway).
The exciting college life that Kurt had always imagined was starting to come to pass. Rachel was still in Brody mode (he even moved in recently, which annoyed Kurt to no end), but Rachel was Rachel, after all, and prone to obsessions. It would blow over eventually, Kurt knew.
One night, after Adam had brought them two beers to split and two shots, Kurt was walking a stumbling Blaine back to his dorm. Even the closeness created by Blaine’s arm around Kurt’s shoulders didn’t make him so nervous anymore.
“God, I love that bar,” says Blaine. “They don’t even care, do they? Because they totally know that Adam is bringing them to the table for us – and they don’t care.”
Kurt laughs at Blaine’s drunken enthusiasm. “Yes, Blaine, they know and don’t care. Every underage college student’s dream.”
“Adam is so nice,” says Blaine. “And his accent is so funny, isn’t it? I could listen to it forever.”
“It is, isn’t it,” says Kurt. They’re on the NYADA campus now, less than five minutes from Blaine’s dorm. Kurt hopes his roommate isn’t asleep yet, because Blaine is probably going to make a lot of noise like this.
“Adam likes you, doesn’t he?”
“Wait – what?” Kurt looks over to Blaine, who has a small frown on his face now.
“Adam likeeeeees you,” he slurs a bit. “You know, how the other Adam likeeeees Eve.” Blaine snorts, the burst out into small giggles. “See what I did, Kurt – Adam and Eve. Or Steve.”
“You are ridiculous when you’re drunk, you know that, right?” asks Kurt.
“I don’t need to be sober to see the way he looks at you,” says Blaine. “He likes you and you – you should ask him out. I’m sure it would make him happy.”
“Oh,” says Kurt, thinking back. Can Adam really like him? And it shouldn’t hurt this much to have Blaine suggest he go for it with a guy. Because they are friends and nothing more.
It’s only another confirmation.
“Here we are,” says Kurt after another minute of walking. “Dorm sweet dorm. You going to be okay?”
“Yeah, totally,” says Blaine as he fumbles for his key, dropping it to the ground. Kurt picks it up and unlocks the door. “Thank you, you’re the best.”
“Don’t wake up Andrew, okay?” says Kurt. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow – most likely by the afternoon when your Tylenol has kicked in.”
Kurt thinks about the Adam thing all the way home. Then again when he wakes up in the morning, a slight headache throbbing his temples.
Blaine doesn’t join him and Adam for brunch that day, took sick to get out of bed and Kurt tells him to get rest and not overdo it again. He and Adam are more quiet this morning as they order their usuals. By the time the waitress has come and gone, Kurt is about to burst. He has to know.
“Do you like me?” he asks, not exactly going for subtle.
Adam is stirring sugar into his tea (god, he’s so British sometimes it’s laughable) and drops his spoon with a clang. He looks up, blinking at Kurt foolishly for a moment before coloring.
Oh god, he does.
“How – am I really that subtle?” he asks, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.
“No, you are,” says Kurt, his heart sinking. “I just – a friend pointed it out to me. I didn’t actually think…I mean, you’re just older and more….I didn’t think you would go for someone like you.”
“You mean someone as gorgeous and talented as you?” asks Adam with a small smile. “You really don’t see yourself the same way as others do, Kurt.”
Kurt ducts his head, looking down at his coffee cup.
“But yes, I do like you,” says Adam in a soft voice. “But I figured that maybe asking you out right now wasn’t the best thing.”
He looks up, noting how kind Adam’s eyes look in that moment. “Why?”
Adam lets out a long breath, then brings his elbow up to the table, leaning his head against his hand. After another beat of silence, he speaks. “I know you’re not over Blaine yet,” he says. “I’m okay waiting for a while, until you sort things out. It’s obvious you and him have a special bond and that it’s – confusing.”
“How can I not be over someone I was never with?” asks Kurt, more to himself than Adam. He brings his hand up to his face, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. “God, how pathetic is that?”
“It’s not pathetic, Kurt. We can’t help how we feel.”
Kurt knows Adam is right, but it is pathetic. He’s letting a relationship that will never be real get in between him and – and something real. Something potentially real with Adam.
“I’m sorry if I made anything weird,” says Adam.
“You didn’t, really,” says Kurt. “Look, Adam, you’re sweet and attractive and – of course I like you. But I think you’re right. I don’t want to – lead you on. Maybe – give me a bit? I want to think this over.”
“Of course, Kurt, take all the time you need,” says Adam and it’s ridiculous how sincere he sounds.
The days keep moving. Blaine doesn’t say anything about the night he was drunk, or ask about Adam. And Adam is patient and doesn’t say anything to Kurt about wanting to move on to something more than friends. It’s all unbelievably frustrating.
It’s around this time that the dam breaks.
Kurt always grabs a newspaper on the way to school, both to keep up on the news and browse through the entertainment section. Plus Blaine loves taking the Sudoku when he sees him in the afternoon. Then Kurt goes to the coffee shop right across from campus for a small breakfast. It’s Thursday, so he’s able to sit for a while before going to his 11 am class.
The story is on page 2.
Kurt almost chokes on his sip of coffee when he reads the headline, putting down the cup and leaning forward, spreading the paper flat on the table.
“Secret Love Letters Sent Out Around the World – the Man Behind it all”
New York City’s very own cupid has struck. Almost three years ago, Martin Fisher, 36, bought an old US Postal Box from an antique store, painted it pink and nailed it to a street corner on a less busy sidewalk in Manhattan. On it he wrote that lovers of all sorts should write the letters they never wanted to send and “mail” them. Over the years, thousands of people have submitted their love letters and for years, Fisher has collected them. Up until now, they have never been sent, but that has all changed.
Fisher says he had expected three years ago to only get a handful of letters, which he then planned to buy the postage for himself and send out the addressed envelopes. “I know how hard it is to take the leap and tell someone you love them,” says Fisher. “It’s hard to do it by yourself. You need a push.” But the influx of letters was too much for this 7th grade Biology teacher. Before he knew it, he had a hundred letters and not enough spare money to send them. So he kept them and the mailbox there, at least happy that people were writing down their feelings and sending them out into the world.
But last week, things have changed for Fisher. He is the winner of last week’s lottery, making him 60 million dollars richer. The first thing he did? “I went out and bought stamps, it’s a bit pathetic. They postal workers probably thought I was insane. All sorts, too – national and international.” Because Fisher plans on sending any letter that has an actual address written on the envelope. “Probably half don’t have an address. Those will stay with me. The others – I always thought, if someone actually wrote the address on the envelope, it must mean they really want to tell the person the contents of their letter, but just can’t bring themselves to it. Though deep down they want to.”
When asked about if this is a breach in privacy or not, Fisher responds, “Well, people did put their letters in a strange mailbox. Mailboxes are meant to send things to their recipient, after all. So they were taking a leap of faith putting it in the box.” And Fisher also adds, “I never said on the box that they wouldn’t be sent – just that people should put in letters that they can’t send themselves.”
Fisher calls himself a romantic, coming up with this idea because of his love for the old pen and paper era. “Back during my parents’ and grandparents’ time, people wrote to each other. You read these declarations of love in the letters that soldiers sent to their sweethearts back in World War II and it’s beautiful. Moving. I think we’ve lost that – that communication. I wanted to bring it back, just a little. Love is beautiful – straight, gay, whatever you have it – my mail box doesn’t discriminate. I don’t read the letters either, so that privacy isn’t broken.” And so thousands of letters are being sent out right now by Fisher.
“I know some letters will be too late now. People will have gotten married, or even passed away. But really, it’s never too late to tell someone how you feel,” says Fisher. He is worried that some letters would rock the boat for the two people involved, “But that’s the true price of love. It’s messy and doesn’t always work out in everyone’s favor. But then others could benefit from reading the letter meant for them. Isn’t one happy couple worth it? Even if just one pair of people gain happiness from the truth – then I have done what I wanted to do there.”
Fisher also plans on donating some of his winnings to literacy programs for young children. Being an educator, he finds this of the utmost importance, as well as teaching children the joys of writing.
Kurt stares down at the article for several minutes after he’s finished reading it before standing up, folding up the paper haphazardly, and hurrying out of the coffee shop to school. He finds Adam in the hallway and holds up the paper.
“Did you see this?” he asks, breathless.
Adam looks at the paper, then to Kurt. “If that’s about the letters – I read an article online about it last night. I can’t believe it.”
“I can’t – how –“ Kurt can’t even figure out what to say. He doesn’t know if he’s angry with himself or this Martin Fisher. He’s the idiot that put Blaine’s address on the envelope and put it into a weird mailbox, after all. And yeah, all of this is a romantic notion and if Kurt wasn’t involved he’d probably be swooning over the whole idea.
“Kurt,” says Adam. “One of my letters – I addressed it. It was the second one,” he says, in a breathless kind of voice. “It was for this guy back home. I’ve known him since primary school and – I’ve always liked him. But I didn’t – I didn’t think he was actually gay and when I came here I just missed him and wrote him the letter and –“
Adam lets out a laugh, his eyes crinkling. “He called me last night. It was day for him, but he called me because he got the letter and – he feels the same. He hasn’t quite come out to everyone yet, but he feels the same and I just –“ The smile on Adam’s face is huge and delighted.
“Oh, Adam,” says Kurt.
“We’re going to talk about it more when I graduate in the spring. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go back home or stay in the states anyway, but now – maybe I have more of a reason to go home,” says Adam.
“That’s – that’s amazing, Adam. Really.”
“Did you –“
“Yes,” says Kurt. “I addressed it.” His stomach drops uncomfortably as he remembers.
They are quiet for a long moment. “Perhaps – perhaps it’s for the best? He’ll know. Maybe…maybe things will work out,” suggests Adam.
“I just hope he still wants to be friends with me,” says Kurt. “That’s all. I don’t expect – I don’t think what happened in your case will happen with mine.”
Adam goes to class then, giving Kurt a hopeful smile and a squeeze on his shoulder. The fact that he doesn’t have Adam as a dating possibility anymore doesn’t make Kurt as upset as he should be. Instead he only is thinking about Blaine and the letter.
He goes to his class, has a quiet lunch with Adam, then to another class afterwards. He texts Blaine and chickens out on their usual late afternoon coffee meeting and says he has to do homework and goes home.
Rachel is home, dressed in her dance clothes and walking around gathering things in her dance bag. “I have an extra practice tonight!” she says, grabbing a protein bar. “I’ll be back late. I’m going out with Brody after. Oh – there is mail for you on the kitchen table. Love you, bye!”
She’s gone in a flurry. Kurt isn’t too bothered by it for once, dropping his bag on the floor of the living room (uncharacteristic of him, but he can’t bring himself to car) and walks to the kitchen to grab a soda. He sits down at the table, taking small sips and reaches for the mail. There is his phone bill, which he throws to the side. A catalogue and a magazine subscription follow.
Then, there is a small envelope with no returning address or name.
He looks down at it. There is a small heart next to his name and Kurt’s heart leaps out of his chest. Because he knows – this is a letter sent out from the secret admirer mail box.
He wracks his brain. Surely Adam would have told him if he sent one for Kurt? They’d only just talked about it a few days before, but perhaps in his excitement over the guy he likes back home made him forget.
But then, who else could it be? Kurt has a few other friends in his classes, but they are more acquaintances than anything. Kurt picks up the letter, turning it over in his hands. Does he want to even open it? It’s probably Adam and that seems wrong now. Not even a possibility.
There is a knock at the door. He sighs, standing. It’s probably Rachel, who forgot something and doesn’t want to bother with her keys.
He slides the door open, finding Blaine instead.
Blaine is dreamy, as usual, in a tightfitting sweater and dress pants. He’s breathing heavy, though, as if he’d hurried over.
“Blaine, I –“
Because Kurt also knows that he must have gotten the letter. Why else would he have come over to his apartment without notice. Kurt feels immediately stupid.
“I got your letter,” Blaine says in a rush. He holds up a slightly ruffled looking paper in his hands. Kurt recognizes it.
“B, I’m so sorry,” he starts. Kurt can feel his face heating up.
“Does that mean you got mine?”
“I didn’t want to ruin anything between us and – wait, what?” asks Kurt dumbly.
“My letter. I – I sent one too. Someone told me about the mailbox and I just – I wanted to tell you but I just couldn’t I didn’t think you felt the same way. But – but you do.”
“You – sent me a letter? You –“
Kurt looks down at the envelope still in his hand. He brings it up and Blaine’s breath catches.
“That’s it. You – you haven’t opened it,” says Blaine.
“Do – do you want me to?” asks Kurt, in a daze.
Kurt lets Blaine in and shuts the door and they walk over to the couch. Kurt sits slowly and Blaine sits down after him, a good amount of space between them. Kurt’s hands shake as he opens the envelope and pulls out the letter. It feels weird, reading something Blaine wrote with him sitting right next to him. He looks down and begins to read.
I can’t believe I’m writing this, wow. I have probably thought of these words a hundred times before, but I’ve never had the courage to say them to you. I know you probably think I’m brave, but I’m really, really not. Not when it comes to you.
Because I think I’ve loved you since the day we met. If not then, it slowly started to happen. The first time I heard you sing, during the solo you had at Sectionals – I was gone. You moved me with your voice and your performance. But I just didn’t know how to say that. You were going through so much at school and I didn’t want to make things more complicated for you. I didn’t even think, at the time, we would still be friends in a few years. I thought maybe after a while you would get bored with me, driving so much to see me in person and we would just grow apart.
But that didn’t happen. We’ve grown stronger in our friendship and that’s how I knew I couldn’t complicate it. I didn’t want to endanger what we had with these feelings I had. I know you don’t feel the same for me. You can’t. But I feel something for you. There are times when I look at you and you don’t see me and I think – I’ve been looking for you forever. All my life, I’ve wanted someone like you, who would understand me and help me and be my friend no matter what. And we have a good thing going and I don’t want it to end. Which is why I can’t tell you I love you.
But I do. I always will.
Kurt looks up from the letter into Blaine’s eyes.
“You – you feel the same,” Kurt whispers.
“I do,” says Blaine.
“We both – sent in letters.”
Blaine laughs. “We did.”
“God, we’re idiots.”
“The biggest idiots on the planet.”
As they speak, the scoot in closer on the couch.
“Can I say it now?” asks Kurt. “To you?”
“Only if I can,” says Blaine.
“I love you, Kurt Hummel,” says Blaine.
“I love you too,” says Kurt.
Then they lean in, lips pressing together in a gentle way, which leads to a more intense embrace. Blaine’s letter drops from Kurt’s hand as he reaches up to cup his cheek and pull him closer.
They obviously have plenty to talk about. But for now – this is all they have to say.