As soon as Kurt hung up with Blaine he went to his computer and started doing some research. There was a plan forming in his head, it was a little crazy, and it would cost him a good chunk of his bank account, but it would be worth it. All he had to do was talk to his director, that was the only part of this beyond his control, but Kurt had a feeling that everything would work out.

Rehearsal the next morning dragged. Kurt tried his best to focus but whenever he wasn’t mid-scene he found himself checking his watch, waiting for the day to end so he could talk to the director, beg leniency, plead his case, throw himself on the mercy of the theatre. He ran his pitch over and over in his mind, carefully crafting each word so as to make the best case without giving any unneeded details or undesired insight. Word by word he carved a statement until finally he was satisfied with how it sounded.

Kurt grabbed the director just as he was leaving the theatre to gather his belongings before going god knows where.

“John? Can I have a word?”

John was stopped more by the surprise of the request than the pressure of Kurt’s hand on his arm. Kurt had been nothing but ideal throughout the rehearsal process; he never caused problems, he never questioned the direction he was given, he listened and responded.

“Yes, of course, what can I do for you?”

“I need to miss rehearsal on Friday.” John quirked an eyebrow and motioned for Kurt to go on, silently asking for an explanation. “My boyfriend is stuck in Ohio, and Friday was only half a rehearsal anyway.” John smiled and nodded, knowingly.

“If I let you do this, you owe me.”

“Anything.”

“Go, have fun, but you had better be back here first thing Saturday morning.”

Kurt was expecting more of an argument if he was being completely honest. The last thing he was expecting was his director to not only allow the absence but to encourage it ("I had a long distance boyfriend once. It sucked. Go forth and copulate!") He left the theatre with a gigantic grin on his face and an extra spring in his step. Blaine would be so surprised; it was going to be perfect.

When he got home the first thing he did was let Rachel know that she and Finn would have the apartment to themselves for Thursday and Friday, and if they could avoid ruining the furniture with any...stains...that would be greatly appreciated. Rachel rolled her eyes but agreed.

"And don't tell Finn, he's horrible at keeping secrets and I don't want Blaine to find out."

"Fine."

"Swear it."

"Kurt, I'm not going to tell him!" Kurt gave her an evaluating look before allowing the topic to drop. "Good," he said, a tone of finality in his voice, as he retreated to his bedroom to finish his last-minute plans.

Kurt was ecstatic to find that Mercedes was on skype as he pressed "initiate call" and waited impatiently for her to answer. It took only a few rings but, consumed with nervous energy as he was, it felt like ages.

"What up white boy?" Mercedes gave her usual greeting.

"You're going to be back in Lima for Thanksgiving, right?" Mercedes gave a questioning look and hesitated before replying.

"Yeah, I get home Wednesday at around noon."

"Perfect!"

"What is going on in that head of yours?"

"Blaine had to cancel his New York trip, so I'm coming to him." Mercedes smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I’ll be around, just let me know when you need me."

"You're a lifesaver, thanks so much!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know.” Mercedes laughed and began telling Kurt about her day as he started searching for cheap flights from New York to Dayton, preferably ones that landed close to noon on Wednesday.

“You’re flying into Dayton, right?” Kurt verified.

“Yeah,”

“Hmm, okay, there’s a flight for not too much that lands about 1:15 from New York – can I bum a ride back to Lima?”

“Yeah, of course, just don’t keep me waitin’ too long.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Kurt missed hanging out with Mercedes, and the hour or so that it would take to get form the airport to Lima would be a great opportunity for the pair to catch up. It was weird, as much as Kurt missed Mercedes, and he did, quite a bit, he didn’t think about it nearly as much as, say, how much he missed Blaine. He’d seen Mercedes every day for the past four year s – longer than he’d even known Blaine – and they barely spoke now, yet he only really missed here when they were talking, which was incredibly infrequent. It was almost an out of sight out of mind thing; when they would Skype each other he felt a pang in the pit of his stomach; a mixture of the separation and the guilt from not feeling it more often.

“Here goes nothing,” Kurt said as he closed his eyes dramatically and pressed “buy” on his plane tickets. “Farewell, bank account. You were never very large, but we were oh so close. You will be missed.” Mercedes laughed at the mock-eulogy for Kurt’s tragically departed cash.

“Don’t laugh at the dead, Mercedes,” Kurt scolded playfully.

“My apologies, I didn’t realize this call was for such somber business.”

They bantered back and forth for a little longer before Kurt had to go finish his plans for this impromptu homecoming.

---

“Hey, Kurt, it’s me again, I’ve been trying to reach you all day but you haven’t answered. I hope everything is alright.” Blaine was sitting in the dressing room after rehearsal, calling Kurt for the umpteenth time that day. He hadn’t answered yet, or called back, or texted. He was absolutely incommunicado. He sat there, still in costume from the dress rehearsal, staring down his cell. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong. It had to be wrong, right? If Kurt wasn’t responding? After another few minutes Blaine had worked himself into a full-on panic attack and decided to call Rachel – just to check in.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Rachel? It’s Blaine,”

“Hey! What’s up?”

“I’m worried about Kurt.”

“I wouldn’t be, I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Wait – he isn’t with you? I thought he didn’t have rehearsal today.”

“He left this morning, I’m sure he’s just busy.”

“He hasn’t responded at all, though, Rachel!” Blaine was starting to panic now – if Rachel hadn’t heard from Kurt all day either he could be anywhere.

“Blaine, calm down. I’m sure it’s fine. Where are you, anyway?”

“Still at the school, rehearsal just ended.”

“Okay, why don’t you go home, try calling him again in a little while, and try to relax. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

“Promise?”

“I swear.”

Blaine reluctantly agreed before hanging up. He tore off his costume and threw on his street clothes haphazardly. He raced to his car and did his best not to speed too badly on his way home. Almost as soon as he was through his front door he pulled out his cell and tried calling Kurt again. Still nothing.

“Kurt, where are you? I’m worried. Please call me.” He would call again in 10 minutes, he decided. He didn’t want to be too over-bearing.

Blaine dropped both his school and drama bags in his room and tried to distract himself for the next few minutes by straightening up any stray objects in his otherwise perfectly organized room. When he ran out of things to clean he started pacing. Exactly 10 minutes after his last call he picked up his cell phone again and hit “redial.”

“Hello?” This time Kurt had answered on the first ring. Relief flooded Blaine’s body as he collapsed onto his bed.

“Oh thank God!” Blaine said, “where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you all day!”

“I know, I’m sorry. Can you do me a favor?” Kurt’s voice sounded weird, like he was trying to keep himself from telling Blaine something.

“What?”

“Go outside.”

“And why am I going outside?” Blaine was confused, and a little annoyed if he was being honest. No response all day, no messages or anything, and now this nonsense.

“Just do it,” Kurt replied. Blaine sighed but got up and began making his way downstairs to the front door.

“What’s going on, Kurt?”

“Are you outside yet?”

“No.”

“Well hurry up.” Blaine sighed again and picked up the pace. When he finally reached the front door he pulled it open a little too hard in frustration and promptly dropped his phone.

Kurt Hummel was standing at the end of the walkway to Blaine’s front door, coat pulled tight, cheeks pink from the bite of the cold, and a stupid grin playing on his lips. His hair was ruffling in the wind and his eyes sparked with mischief and pure joy.

“Kurt” Blaine breathed, disbelief taking over. He closed the distance between them in two steps and launched himself at Kurt, pulling him into the tightest hug ever. He nuzzled his face into the crook of Kurt’s neck, breathing in his scent, taking in his presence, trying to convince himself that Kurt was, in fact, standing there. He never wanted to let him go again. “What are you doing here?” Blaine asked, pulling his face back just enough to look Kurt in the eyes.

“You couldn’t come to me,” Kurt said, shrugging slightly as if this was the most obvious answer in the world.

Blaine lifted himself ever-so-slightly and captured Kurt’s lips with his own. The kiss held everything that he’d been wanting to say for the past three months, all the loneliness, all the frustration, every second of missing Kurt, everything. Kurt hungrily kissed back as Blaine threaded his fingers through Kurt’s hair, pulling him closer. He raked his teeth against Kurt’s lower lip, biting gently.

When they broke apart 15 minutes later it was only so they could catch their breath. Blaine’s hands remained on either side of Kurt’s face, Kurt’s pressed into Blaine’s back, pulling him closer.

“It’s cold out here,” Kurt noted as a particularly strong gust blew around them.

“Let’s go inside,” Blaine said, pressing a chaste kiss to Kurt before wrenching himself away and leading Kurt into the house. They made their way in to the living room, opting not to go to Blaine’s bedroom since his parents would be home soon and the last thing they needed right now was to be walked in on. “How long are you here for?” Blaine asked, sitting on the couch and pulling Kurt with him.

“Friday night.” Blaine’s face fell slightly. Such a short visit. He knew that he should be happy that Kurt was there at all, but that didn’t keep him from never wanting him to leave again.

“Can you stay here?” Kurt laughed at the question.

“That one is up to your parents,” he kissed Blaine again, “but if they’re okay with it then of course, I would love to.”

Blaine’s parents had been surprisingly good about every aspect of Kurt and Blaine’s relationship thus far. They’d never given Blaine a hard time about staying out late, or Kurt spending the night, and they had even been surprisingly all right with Blaine’s transfer to McKinley. The fact that they had consented to Blaine’s Thanksgiving New York City visit was probably the biggest surprise; every other encounter had had at least the illusion of supervision, but this would have been complete and total freedom. Blaine had his theories as to why his parents were so good about everything, but none of his theories had ever been confirmed.

The truth was they saw how good Kurt was for Blaine, how happy he made him. Before Kurt Blaine had been so closed off, so painfully guarded. He hid behind the safety of Dalton, the conformity of the uniform, the strict rules of the school, the almost cult-like sameness of the Warblers. He was the same as every other student at Dalton, a school that, though academically wonderful, had a definite Stepford-esque feeling to it. He’d had friends, mostly through the Warblers, but he never felt particularly close to anyone. He was the same, and he was invisible. A dot on a pointillism painting; beautiful as part of the whole, but nothing on his own. Until, that is, Kurt came around. Kurt showed up and gave him the courage to be himself, to show the world the best of himself, to step out of that same-ness and find what made him happy. Even Mr. and Mrs. Anderson couldn’t deny the way Blaine lit up when Kurt was around, or when his name was mentioned. As uncomfortable as Mr. Anderson may have been with his son’s sexuality, especially at first, he couldn’t help but love the boy who loved his son. They were good for each other, it was undeniable.

Tonight when the Andersons came home they found Blaine and Kurt thoroughly entrenched in a very serious debate about on-Broadway versus off-Broadway shows.

“No, Blaine, I’m telling you, some of the best talent in the city is in off-Broadway shows.”

“Impossible. If they were that good they would be on Broadway!”

“You do realize that people like Idina Menzel, Taye Diggs, et cetera et cetera all started on off Broadway shows, right?”

“Yes, and then they got good and went to Broadway.”

“Hello, boys,” Mrs. Anderson said, “Kurt, we weren’t expecting to see you.” Blaine’s mother said as she entered the living room and chuckled to herself at their debate. She hugged first Kurt and then Blaine, kissing the later on the cheek.

“It’s great to see you, Ellen. I managed to find some time, since Blaine was stuck in rehearsals.”

“Will you be staying here?” Mr. Anderson asked, joining his family in the living room.

“Can he?” Blaine piped up before Kurt could answer.

“Of course he can,” Mrs. Anderson said, hugging Kurt once more. “You know you’re always welcome here.” Kurt thanked her, and Mr. Anderson, and promised not to be too much trouble.

“You’re not trouble,” Blaine mumbled, the tips of his ears blushing slightly when he realizes that he’d said it aloud.

---