“Sit for a minute. Relax. Talk. Or maybe you're in a hurry.”

“My daddy always said there's only one time a man should be in a hurry.  When the cops are comin' up the stairs.” Blaine smiles as he slides into the booth across from Aaron.

“How about a coffee?  Maybe a piece of cheesecake?”  Aaron offers.

Blaine shakes his head in the negative.  “Thanks. I'm pleased to hear things go well with you, Nathan.  From communiqués received in Las Vegas, we understood that Brannigan was corkin' up the town.”

“Who’s worried about Branigan--”

“Cut!” Artie shouts from the front of the stage.

Aaron pulls a face as he looks over at him.  “Now what?”

“It’s ‘who worries about Branigan’ not ‘who’s worried’.”

“Okay, nobody in the world talks like this,” Aaron says, pauses and waves a hand toward Blaine.  “Except maybe grandpa over here.”

Blaine sticks his tongue out at Aaron.

“Try it again,” Artie says.  “From ‘who’s worries about Branigan?’.”

“Who worries about Branigan?  How was Vegas?”

“Paradise for two weeks.” Blaine leans back in the booth, setting his fedora on the table.  He loves the suits he gets to wear in this show.  “I gambled in green pastures, the dice were my cousins and the dolls were agreeable with nice teeth and no last names.”

He can tell Aaron is fighting not to laugh.  That line always gets him.  “You are sure I cannot offer you cheesecake or strudel?”

“No, thanks. I just ate.”

“How long you gonna be in town?”

“Only tonight. Tomorrow I fly to Havana.”

“Sky, don't think I am a pest, but do yourself a favour - eat this last little bite of cheesecake. You will thank me.” Aaron pushes the plate of cheesecake closer to Blaine.

The worst part of the show so far is every day, they use real cheesecake.  And Blaine never gets to take a bite of it.  “Honestly, I couldn't swallow a mouthful.  How is Adelaide?”

“Fine.”

“I suppose one of these days you'll get married.”

“We all gotta go sometime.”

“But, Nathan, we can fight it. The companionship of a doll is pleasant even for a period running into months. But for a close relationship that can last through our life, no doll can take the place of aces back to back.”

“Still, you will admit that Mindy's cheesecake is the greatest alive.”  Aaron immediately turns to Artie, breaking character.  “No, seriously this guy is like a drug pusher.  A pusher of cheesecake.”

“Also a fairly addictive substance,” Blaine says, reaching out to swipe his finger in the cheesecake and suck it off the tip.

Artie drums his fingers on the armrest of his wheelchair.  “The commentary is a lot of fun, Aaron.  Really.  And it’s also going to keep us here longer.  Do you mind continuing?”

“No, but seriously, this Nathan is a loon,” Aaron says quietly to Blaine before slipping back into character.  “Still, you will admit that Mindy's cheesecake is the greatest alive.”  

“Gladly. Furthermore, I am quite partial to Mindy's cheesecake.” Or any cheesecake really, Blaine thinks.

“And yet, although you might disagree, many people prefer Mindy's strudel. Do you disagree?”

“It is my understanding that the Constitution allows everybody the free choice between cheesecake and strudel.” Blaine’s mouth twitches on that line.  He loves Sky Masterson.

“I would be interested to hear. Offhand, would you say that Mindy sells more cheesecake or more strudel?”  Aaron leans forward.

“Going strictly by my personal preference, I'd say more cheesecake than strudel.”  Actually, Kurt makes an amazing strudel.  Blaine hasn’t had it in forever, but maybe he could convince Kurt to make it this weekend while he’s visiting...

“For how much?”
           
“What?”

“For how much?”  Aaron leans forward even further, excitedly.

“Why, Nathan! I never knew you to lay money on the line.  You always take your bite off the top.”
   
“A thousand bucks says that yesterday Mindy sold more strudel than cheesecake.”

Blaine nods slightly and gets to his feet, moving over to the other side of the booth to slide in beside Aaron.  “Nathan, let me tell you a story.”

“Have we got a bet?”

“On the day I left home to make my way in the world, my daddy took me to one side. "Son," my daddy says to me, "I am sorry I am not able to bankroll you to a large start, but not having the necessary lettuce to get you rolling, instead, I'm going to stake you to some very valuable advice. One of these days, a guy is going to show you a brand-new deck of cards on which the seal is not yet broken. Then this guy is going to offer to bet you that he can make the jack of spades jump out of this brand-new deck of cards and squirt cider in your ear. But, son, you do not accept this bet because, as sure as you stand there, you're going to wind up with an ear full of cider." Now, Nathan, I do not suggest that you have been clocking Mindy's cheesecake.”

Aaron spreads his hands wide.  “Would I do such a thing?”

“However, if you are looking for action,” Blaine places his hand quickly over the rather wonderful bow tie--it’s one of his own, actually--that Aaron is wearing, “I will bet you the same that you cannot name the color tie you have on. Have we got a bet?”

Aaron tries to angle his head down to see the tie, but it’s fairly obvious he can’t.  He sinks slightly in his seat, face taking on an expression akin to motion sickness.  “No bet.”

With a smile, Blaine pulls his hand away, leaning back as Aaron tugs the knot loose quickly, glancing at the tie before sighing loudly.  “Polka dots. In the whole world, nobody but Nathan Detroit could blow a thousand bucks on polka dots.”

Rory enters from stage left, wandering over to the table with a smile as Blaine gets to his feet.  “Hi, Sky. Nice to see you. How goes it?”

“Healthy. And with you, Nicely?”

“Nicely-nicely, thanks. Nathan?” Rory leans in worriedly.  “What's the matter, Nathan? You look sick.”

Blaine reaches out for his fedora, saying, “The cheesecake backed up on him.”

“Maybe that's why they told me they sell more strudel,” Rory offers helpfully.

Aaron drops his face into his hands with a groan.

Ignoring his obvious plight, Rory continues, “Adelaide gave me a message for you.  Be sure and pick her up after the show. And don't be late!”

“Yes, dear,” Aaron says automatically behind his hands.  “I mean, okay.”

“Yes, dear?” Blaine looks down at him, blinking.   “This is husband talk if I ever heard it. You are trapped because Adelaide is a doll that is most difficult to unload.”

Aaron drops his hands and looks up.  “I don't want to unload her. I love her. A guy without a doll... If a guy does not have a doll, who would holler at him--”

“Cut.  It’s ‘who would holler on him’.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, grammatically speaking,” Aaron says.

Blaine grins.  “I like how they talk.”

“You would.”

“Aaron,” Artie says.  “Please continue.”

“If a guy does not have a doll, who would holler on him.  A doll is a necessity.”

“I am not putting the knock on dolls. But they are something to have only when they come in handy... like cough drops.” Artie giggles at the line, giving Blaine the indication that his delivery was timed correctly.  “And the proof that I am right is that dolls are available as far as the eye can see.”

“Not dolls like Adelaide.”

“Nathan, nothing personal and no offense, but, weight for age, all dolls are the same.”

“All dolls are the same, huh?”

“As far as the eye can see.” Blaine waves the fedora in front of him widely.

“It seems to me the one place a doll would come in handy would be in Havana.” Aaron gets up from the booth, sliding his hands into his pockets.  “So how come you ain't got one? How come you are going alone, without a doll?”

“A matter of choice.  I choose to travel alone, but if I wish to take a doll, the supply is more than Woolworths has got beads.”  Blaine has argued that they should update that line to make sense to people today.  Artie wants to leave it as is because it sets the right tone for the era.

“Not high-class dolls.”

“There's only one class: indivisible and interchangeable.  A doll is a doll.  All dolls, any doll. You name her.”

“Any doll? Will you bet on that?” Aaron says slyly.   “Will you bet a thousand bucks that if I name a doll, you can take the same doll to Havana with you tomorrow?”

Blaine grins and pokes Aaron in the chest.  “You've got yourself a bet.”

Slipping his hand behind Blaine’s back, Aaron guides him toward stage left where Tina enters, dressed in her Salvation Army uniform, a few of the band members following, playing a horrible march.  Aaron waves a hand forward.

“I name her.”

“Her?” Blaine asks, affecting the same look of motion sickness Aaron had earlier.

“Sergeant Sarah Brown,” Aaron announces with a broad smile.

Turning away, Blaine wanders back toward stage right, away from Aaron and Rory, both of whom look entirely too pleased with themselves.  Blaine leans against the booth and looks upward.  “Daddy,” he says beseechingly.  “I got cider in my ear!”

“And... scene!” Artie calls out, clapping. “Very good.  Let’s move on.  I’d like to get out of here before I have to head back to class in the morning...”

They continue on with only a few major interruptions.  Brittany changes the choreography for “Havana” halfway through the dance number, and part of the scenery falls over during Blaine and Tina’s performance of “I’ve Never Been in Love Before”.  Act Two flies by with far fewer interruptions, and before Blaine knows it, he’s belting out “Luck Be a Lady” while the majority of the football team dances around him in brightly colored zoot suits and fedoras.  Blaine loves the number; he loves the song, the choreography that Brittany put together, the costuming and the set.  Slipping into the role of the charming, high stakes gambler has proven far easier than Blaine had expected.  He hates to admit that Artie was right but... well, he was right.

At the end of the number, as the company pauses in place for applause, Blaine hears more than Artie’s clapping from the front of the stage.  He glances out into the house to see a very familiar and welcome individual applauding from the aisle.
 
“Kurt!”

It’s not the most professional behavior in the world, but Artie has stopped the rehearsal, so Blaine sees nothing wrong with jumping down from the stage to hurry up the steps to where Kurt is standing, waiting for him with a smile.  He doesn’t exactly throw himself into Kurt’s arms--other than the fact that Kurt is standing there with his arms open waiting for him, and they do kind of stumble back a little bit when Blaine’s body collides into his--but it’s not so much throwing as jumping, really.

The moment he feels Kurt’s arms wrap around his shoulders, embracing him tightly, Blaine releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’s been holding--holding for maybe the last month, actually--and he closes his eyes and presses his face into Kurt’s neck, and just forgets about everything but the boy in his arms.  He smiles as he feels Kurt’s arms tighten over him a moment, and then the feel of Kurt’s fingers curling into the hairs at the nape of his neck.  It’s as if they’re each remembering that yes, this is how it feels because even though Blaine hasn’t forgotten, it’s still nice to know he’d been right.    

“What are you doing here?” Blaine finally pulls his head back, stares into glasz eyes that he’s lost himself in more times than he can count.  “I thought I wouldn’t see you until tonight.”

“I asked my dad to drop me off on the way back from the airport.” Kurt shrugs a little, his hands sliding down Blaine’s arms to wrap around his wrists.  “I’ll see my family plenty while you’re at school tomorrow.  I wanted to see you in rehearsal, and say hi to everyone.”

His words remind Blaine that they have an audience, and he glances over his shoulder to see everyone milling around the stage, talking quietly amongst themselves, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment.  Blaine’s face flushes because he knows they’re being rude, not just on a professional level but to their friends as well.  He takes Kurt’s hand in his and tugs him down the steps.

“Come on.  I’m sure Artie will be fine with you saying hi to everyone before we wrap up,” he says quietly.

The moment they reach the stage, Tina and Brittany tackle Kurt with hugs, telling him how much they’ve missed him and complimenting his outfit.  Blaine hangs back, watching as old friends reacquaint themselves and Aaron and Rose step up to introduce themselves.  He laughs and shakes his head when Kurt warns Rose to stop ogling his boyfriend’s ass, but she’s quick to respond.

“Well, while you’re here, I’ll just ogle yours instead.”

Kurt lifts an eyebrow in appreciation as Blaine slips over and nudges him toward the front of the stage and the chair next to Artie.  “We’re almost done with rehearsal.  Then we can head back to my place?”

“Perfect!” Kurt brushes a kiss to his cheek before walking away to join Artie.

Blaine doesn’t have to tell Kurt his parents are not home; it was understood fairly quickly when they first became friends.  Kurt had only remarked on it a few times before realizing Blaine was not entirely comfortable with discussing it, and the matter was dropped.  There have only been a couple of times since they’ve begun dating that Blaine has ever had to say “My parents are home.”  Usually, this little fact has a way of bothering Blaine.

But not today.

Blaine’s heart beat is just resuming it’s normal speed when he feels Kurt pull away from him, rolling to the side of the bed to dispose of the condom.  His eyes flicker open, and he notices that at some point in time the lighting in the room has faded from dusk to darkness.  Kurt apparently realizes this as well because he reaches over to switch on the lamp beside the bed before he returns to Blaine’s side, snuggling up against him, hand sliding over Blaine’s stomach, fingers mapping out his ribs.

“How’s your shoulder?” Kurt asks softly, lips pressing against the bicep of Blaine’s right arm.

“It’s fine.” Blaine smiles and lifts the arm Kurt is kissing, wrapping it around Kurt’s shoulders as he moves closer, laying his cheek against Blaine’s chest.  Blaine thinks maybe he’s missed this even more than the sex; just being close like this, holding one another.  Smirking slightly, he adds, “You were almost too gentle.”

“And yet, you still had a good time.” Kurt pokes a finger into Blaine’s abdomen.  

“Your mouth was on my dick, Kurt.  Of course I had a good time.”

Squeaking with apparent outrage, Kurt shoves against Blaine’s side--not hard because he’s been treating Blaine like glass since he arrived in the auditorium that afternoon--but it’s enough to tickle a little bit, and Blaine tries to wiggle out of his reach.   Kurt pulls him right back though, arms wrapped tightly around his waist so Blaine can’t get away, and Kurt hooks a leg over Blaine’s before nestling his head back against his chest.  Content with not moving anymore, Blaine sighs and closes his eyes, his hand drifting up to slide his fingers through Kurt’s hair, clutching lightly.

They both lie there silently for the next few minutes, and Blaine feels himself beginning to drift, everything muted and a little hazy, imagination taking over reality as he thinks of life a few years from now.  Laying in bed with Kurt, in a tiny apartment in New York, no worries about parents coming home early or keeping bedroom doors shut.  They’d discuss having a dinner party with friends later that week, disagreeing on the menu and piecing together an entire playlist of songs to entertain their guests with.  To make up for arguing over the menu, Blaine would let Kurt coordinate their outfits for the evening, and maybe at the last moment they’d call the whole thing off, texting their friends that one of them was sick, and spending the rest of the evening feeding one another straight out of the pots on the stove while dancing around the kitchen singing “I’ll Cover You” at the top of their lungs.

“...this the most.”

Blaine’s eyes blink open at the sound of Kurt’s voice.  He must have drifted off over the last few moments.  “Hmmm?” He asks, shifting slightly, arm tightening around Kurt.

“You fell asleep on me.” Kurt’s tone is affectionate.

“N’didn’t,” Blaine tries to argue but gives up.  “M’be just a few moments.” He’s more awake now.  “What did you say?”

“I said I miss this the most.” Kurt lifts his head, turning it to look up at Blaine and resting his chin on Blaine’s chest.  “Just being with you like this, hearing the sound of your heart beat, feeling your fingers in my hair.  New York is... amazing.  But it will be even more so once you’re there with me.”

Blaine smiles, caressing the back of Kurt’s head for a moment before slipping his hand down to his neck where his skin is warm and still slightly damp from previous exertions.  “You like it, though? It’s everything you imagined it would be?”

Kurt shrugs and drops his gaze, his finger tracing light patterns over the outline of Blaine’s ribs.  “There are moments for Rachel and I when our insecurities get the best of us, and then it’s tears and ice cream Smash marathons, and once I’m absolutely certain I’m not the most talentless hack in all the world, I call you.  Rachel, though, she doesn’t really have anyone to turn to, other than me.”  Kurt’s eyes flicker back up to Blaine.  “I feel bad for her.  Sometimes I see her just sitting on her bed in her room, clutching the teddy bear Finn won for her at the school carnival last spring.”

“Does she ever talk about Finn?”

“She tries not to, but sometimes his name slips.  And she tries to deflect it, you know, launching in to how it’s important for her to focus on her career, and it’s good that she doesn’t have any distractions but his decision really hurt her.”

“I’m not entirely certain Finn is all that pleased with his choice, either.”  Blaine trails his fingers upwards, brushing through the hair over Kurt’s ear.

“Oh?  Has he opened up to you about it?  He clams up when I try to talk to him.”

“That’s because you live with Rachel,” Blaine says with a smile.  “He hasn’t said much but occasionally he’ll pose a question or get this look in his eyes when I talk about heading to New York next year and I can just see the wheels turning.  Like maybe he’s reconsidering.”

Kurt appears surprised at this.  His eyes widen for a moment, before his forehead creases into a frown.  Blaine can’t help but reach up with his fingertips to smooth the creases away.  “Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t have fought so hard against their marriage.  Maybe they’d both be happier--”

“Hey.” Blaine pressed a finger to Kurt’s lips to silence him.  “You know what that would have achieved?   Finn being miserable and having no direction in New York while he watched the two of you following your dreams, the possibility of Rachel losing focus on hers, and you being stuck in a tiny apartment with them.”

“You have a point.” Kurt bends his head, pressing the tip of his nose into Blaine’s stomach, his lips puckering to place repeated soft kisses against the skin beneath them.  He smiles when Blaine giggles because it tickles just a bit.  Sighing softly, warm breath spreading over Blaine’s belly, Kurt turns his head to press his cheek against him, gazing up into his eyes.  “I can’t wait until you’re there with me, you know.”

Blaine catches Kurt’s hand and brings it to his mouth, pressing light kisses over the tips of his fingers.  “Same.  Sometimes all I can think about is how we’ll be like this every night, waking up beside each other every morning--”

“Walking down the street holding hands, finding a favorite place to eat or just spend time together... “

Kurt trails off and suddenly moves, crawling back up beside Blaine to lean down and press their lips together, sucking Blaine’s lower lip between his and cupping his face in his hands, a little too tight, a little too desperate.  Sensing there’s something wrong, Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist, tugging him close as they kiss, the momentary intensity from Kurt gentling to something simple, slow, lips simply clinging to one another before Kurt breaks it.  Their foreheads rest together, and Blaine gazes up at Kurt; his eyes are closed, mouth slightly open, soft breaths fanning over Blaine’s lips.  He rubs his hands over Kurt’s lower back for a silent moment.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” he finally asks.

Kurt’s eyes slip open, and he doesn’t respond at first, just gazes back down at Blaine.  They’re so close that their eyelashes occasionally catch against one another.  Blaine thinks Kurt’s eyes look like supernovas at this proximity.

“It’s a school night for you, so I should probably go,” he whispers, giving Blaine another brief kiss before pulling up and away.

The question is obviously being ignored but Blaine knows better than to push.  If there’s something bothering Kurt, he’ll share it in his own time.  Instead, Blaine let’s out a slightly pathetic whine as he rolls over, attempting to catch Kurt before he can slide out of the bed.  Unfortunately, he’s not fast enough.  “I don’t want you to go,” he pouts, leaning his chin on his forearm as he rests at the edge of the bed, watching Kurt as he searches for his clothes scattered around the room.

They’d been in a bit of a rush when they’d gotten back to his place.

“Dad wants me home for my first night back,” Kurt tells him as he finds his underwear and pants, and slips them on before sitting on the bed beside Blaine.  “And I figure it’s best to keep him happy if you’re staying over tomorrow night, right?”

“I guess,” Blaine murmurs, still pouting because Kurt had covered his ass entirely too quickly.  He manages a smile when he feels his boyfriend place a kiss on the top of his head.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you if you keep making that face it’s going to freeze that way?” Kurt teases, reaching out to flick the tip of Blaine’s nose.

“Yes, actually.  Throughout most of my childhood, in fact.”

“Why does this not surprise me?” Kurt tugs his shirt on over his head, following it up with his vest and jacket.

Blaine rolls onto his back and looks up at him. “So many layers.  Such a shame.” He grins when Kurt sticks his tongue out at him.  “Tease.  Do you want me to walk you out?” He asks, starting to get up.

“I know my way.” Kurt leans over to give him a quick kiss.  “Besides, I’d prefer this image of you to fall asleep to tonight,” he says with a wink, squeaking slightly when Blaine wraps a quick hand around the back of his neck and pulls him down for another kiss.  He laughs against Blaine’s lips and kisses him back before finally pulling away.  “Do your homework, honey, and get some sleep.  I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner.  Love you!”

Blaine leans back against the headboard, grabbing the extra pillow and hugging it to his chest.  “I love you more!”

Laughing, Kurt rolls his eyes and tosses a wave over his shoulder as he exits Blaine’s room.

Still smiling, Blaine leans his chin on the pillow, staring at the doorway Kurt had just vacated.  It’s obvious there’s something bothering his boyfriend, and while Blaine will not push to find out what that is, he does find himself hoping Kurt will choose to tell him sooner rather than later.  The miles between them has made the chances to open up to one another far fewer than before.  They should still be able to talk to one another, the same as always, but Blaine knows it is not as easy as that.  It’s more difficult to know what the other is thinking when they are no longer together as much as they were.  

Blaine’s not worried about them growing apart.   But he is a little afraid of what it might mean for them to be growing up.