And then “Blackbird” happened. Truthfully, none of the other guys were that broken up about Pavarotti’s death. He was their mascot, and he helped make the newest Warbler feel included, but canaries didn’t live that long, and yeah, their claims of him being from a long lineage were probably exaggerated. Which is why it was especially striking to see this kind of raw, open, honest emotion from Kurt as he sang a eulogy to a dead bird. Blaine couldn’t help but be inspired to start singing backup himself.

Of course Kurt had a beautiful voice, but now Blaine was hearing it as though it were for the first time. This was different from when he’d sung “Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina” for his solo audition – much like how Kurt couldn’t be sexy when he was trying, the emotion in his voice came across as so much more genuine when he actually meant the words of the song, when he was actually feeling it. And there was nothing affected about this performance. It wasn’t a sly attempt at convincing them to give him a solo; Kurt was actually upset about the death of this bird, this bird that wasn’t even really his, but that they’d made him take care of. The fact that this boy who had been through so much himself could feel this much over a tiny little creature was… it was moving.

And that was when Blaine looked up at Kurt, and it was like his world shifted a little bit – not like he had been blind before, but like he just hadn’t been seeing things in the proper light. It was like that moment at the eye doctor when he shifted from the plain glass to your proper prescription, and Blaine could suddenly see that “oh, that’s what those letters were.” It was like he just hadn’t put everything together until that moment.

Both Kurt and Blaine just wanted to spend some time alone. Burt just wanted to know why the hell the boy who had asked him to give Kurt the sex talk was kissing his son.