Burt walked down the path behind the woman, looking into a few fenced kennels as they went to the barn-like structure at the end of the gravel. A few of the dogs barked, but one gruff word from the woman and the barking dogs sat and wagged their tails, some poking their noses to the fence to sniff as the two people walked by.

"You know which one will be best, then?" Burt asked, carrying on the conversation that had started in this woman's kitchen a few minutes ago.

"Of course. I don't breed dogs to just trot to the dog shows or show off at an obedience trial, and, god forbid, I don't do it to make money! I don't think anyone can make money if they are truly trying to breed the best dogs. There's vet bills, housing, food....it eats up a lot of money. Selling puppies doesn't put more than a drop in the bucket. No, I breed to try to get the right kind of dog – one with intuition about how to heal someone, how to care and be a companion. Most of the pups I raise are service dogs."

"What do you mean by that? Seeing-Eye dogs?" Burt asked.

"No. They have kennels and raise their own stock. Mine are used in a variety of ways. I have had a few seizure alert dogs, but mostly they are therapy or for people with anxiety issues. I have trained a few dozen hearing dogs for deaf clients. I read your application and your story touched my heart, Mr. Hummel. I hope the pup I chose for him will be this boy's savior."

Burt hoped so, too. Blaine had seemed all right for a while after the whole arrest of Jenn and the court case. He had stayed with the Hummels, as did Cooper, for most of that time. Burt had been so angry with the boys' parents, but Kurt had said something to him that made him stop in his tracks.

~*~

"Dad, I know you're angry at Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, who wouldn't be? But I have been angry longer. Then one day I could see it was eating me up inside. Something occurred to me. They don't neglect Blaine deliberately, they don't do things to be mean. I think they were just born without that ability. You know how once in a while a baby is born without an arm or has Down's syndrome or some other disability? Well, I think Mr. and Mrs Anderson were just born without the ability to understand how much Blaine needs them. We shouldn't be angry at something they can't help. Maybe we should just love Blaine and Cooper and let the anger go, it isn't helping anyone," Kurt had said.

Burt just sat there, gobsmacked. How did a fourteen year old boy figure that out? Burt had always thought Kurt was an amazing person, but he didn't know the half of it, did he?

~*~

And so...Burt was going to buy Blaine a puppy for his birthday, and not just some random dog. No, he had contacted the mental health hospital and spoken with a doctor, describing Blaine's special circumstances and the doctor very kindly suggested therapy (which Blaine steadfastly refused). The doctor laughed and said he couldn't really tell Burt anything, not knowing the boy in question, but before hanging up he had said one more thing, "This is off the record now, but I have three teenage boys. You know what I'd do in your place? I'd buy the kid a dog. Unconditional love, total acceptance, constant companion, great listener, and he won't tell the kid's secrets. As a father, I'm telling you...get the kid a dog. Here, I have the number of a woman that breeds therapy dogs. Call her."

Burt had set the phone number that he'd scribbled in haste on his desk. He thought about it for a while, weighing the pros and cons. He finally talked himself into a decision and made the call. In a few days a large envelope arrived at his shop with pages of forms to fill out. He'd written all the particulars about why Blaine needed this dog, without mentioning the exact nature of the 'incident' and mailed them back. A week later he'd gotten a phone call and now here he was.

The woman that met him at the door was small, but she reminded him of a stick of dynamite. She was bossy and nosy and he knew he had chosen the right person immediately.

"I was thinking a bigger dog might be nice, and I have a litter of Irish Setters. I know golden retrievers and Labradors are popular therapy dogs, but goldens are so needy and I just don't care for Labs. This little mama has always been one of my favorites. I think I have the perfect pup picked out, too."

They entered the building and were greeted by a beautiful deep red dog, wagging her tail and bouncing a bit on her back feet as she greeted Burt. A handful of fat puppies followed her and Burt could not wipe the grin off of his face. He'd had a dog when he was a boy, a pointer that his dad trained to hunt pheasant. He remembered how much he loved that dog and his smile got bigger. He had some reservations about getting Blaine a dog, but they had just melted when the woman picked up a large pup and handed it to Burt. The pup took one look at Burt and licked his face.

~KBKBKBKBKBKBKBKBK~

Kurt got up early, sneaking into the bathroom to wash up. He put on a pair of jeans and a nice shirt and tiptoed up the stairs to the kitchen, ready to tackle the day. He had a cake to decorate, dinner to cook, presents to wrap. They were going with Cooper to the airport late in the evening to pick up Blaine's parents. At least they were going to see him on his birthday, a rare occurrence.

Kurt baked the cake last night, a two-layer white cake with orange marmalade filling and fluffy buttercream-orange frosting. Orange was Blaine's favorite flavor. After tying on his chef's apron, he started heating a sauté pan and placed a large handful of chopped pancetta in with a swig of olive oil and a knob of butter. He was making Bolognese Sauce with pasta for Blaine because it was one of his favorite dishes and Kurt wanted to give him something special for his birthday. Just the sauce took several hours to do all the steps. He smiled and even began to whistle as he worked, chopping a perfect brunoise with the red peppers and onions. It always relaxed him. He hadn't even heard footsteps as he worked, his concentration in getting each piece perfect and doing it quickly took up all of his attention.

Arms came around his waist and a head pasted itself to his back.

"Hey, I'm chopping here...with a knife, Blaine! I could have hurt you," Kurt groused, a bit embarrassed he hadn't heard Blaine sneaking up on him.

Blaine giggled.

"I just wanted to thank you for letting me sleep in, and for making me my favorite dinner of all time," Blaine said, hugging tighter for a second before letting go. He was smiling, and the glow lit the room. Kurt could not help but smile back, his heart cracking because he loved this boy so much and because loving him in secret had to be enough. Kurt could never risk losing everything by telling him how much he was in love with him. No, Kurt was not a risk taker, but sometimes you are caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.

"Hey, it's your birthday! What else would I do? So, Mr. Cleverboots, what do you think I'm cooking?" Kurt grinned. He wished that Blaine would just go on hugging him for the rest of the day. Blaine gave his friend an extra squeeze and let go.

"Ahh...bacon? Oh! Clam chowder? What can I help with? Oh, this smells delicious."

"Hah! As if I would tell you. Nope, you cannot know until dinner time. I thought you said it was your favorite; how do you know it's your favorite if you don't know what I'm cooking? Because it isn't clam chowder," Kurt teased, turning half around to see Blaine's face. He loved to see Blaine smile. He didn't smile often enough any more. Maybe turning fifteen would change that.

"Anything you cook is my favorite, Kurt. Just the fact that you care enough to make me something makes it my favorite." Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes and saw something there...but he was too young and inexperienced to know what it was.

They were interrupted by Burt walking into the kitchen, sniffing at the pancetta browning in the pan. He smiled at his son.

"You're cooking me bacon for breakfast?" Burt asked, looking at Kurt suspiciously.

"No, Dad. There are oatmeal muffins and milk on the table. They're fresh out of the oven, so help yourself. You, too, Blaine," Kurt directed. Burt and Blaine sat down at the table.

"Thank you, Kurt," Blaine said. "These are wonderful. What's in them?"

"Cranberries, walnuts, and flax seed. What do you think, Dad?"

"Wonderful. I liked the ones you made with cheese and bacon last week, too. Thanks, son."

"You're entirely welcome, both of you," Kurt said.

"Happy birthday, Blaine," Burt said, patting the boy on the shoulder.

"Thanks, Mr. Hummel," Blaine said, a smile on his face as he poured himself a glass of milk. Kurt finished whatever he was doing in the saucepan and set it on a back burner. He would return to it after breakfast. He sat down next to Blaine, pulling him over for a birthday hug but very careful not to hug too long. Blaine was still jumpy about being touched sometimes.

After breakfast, Kurt went back to his saucepans. He boiled some water and dipped nine Roma tomatoes in it, fishing them out with a basket strainer and setting them in a bowl. He took a paring knife and started to peel them, placing the tomatoes in the blender and discarding the skins. Blaine sat and watched the whole process for a while, then got up to help. He didn't have to know what Kurt was cooking to help. Kurt gave him the paring knife to finish peeling the tomatoes.

Moving to the cutting board, Kurt set down the carrots and celery he'd gotten from the salad crisper.

"So, you gonna tell me what we're cooking?" Blaine asked, giving Kurt his very best sad puppy eyes.

"Of course. We're cooking dinner," Kurt smirked. Blaine frowned.

"Aww, that wasn't fair. I meant what are we cooking for dinner?" Blaine whined.

"Blaine, whining isn't going to get you anywhere with me. You should know that by now. How long have we known each other?" Kurt gave him a hard stare and Blaine looked away. Kurt grinned and, picking up his French blade, began chopping the carrots into tiny dice. By the time he was done with chopping, Blaine was done with the tomatoes.

"Now, we add the chopped vegetables – called soffritto - to the pan and sauté them until they're just a bit golden around the edges," Kurt said, the look on his face contented. Blaine knew how much Kurt loved to cook. It kind of went along with the way he liked to work for his Dad, setting up the right tools and preparing things ahead, then knowing the processes and applying it to the situation. Blaine had thought about this for a while, and he loved the way Kurt's mind worked. He was more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants kind of guy...jumping into situations without looking. He laughed to himself, knowing that whenever he jumped, Kurt or Burt were there to catch him and that was a comforting thought.

Blaine stood next to Kurt as he put in two packages of ground meat he had unwrapped from white sheets of butcher paper. It smelled so delicious, Blaine stepped closer.

"Can you brown the meat?" Kurt asked and Blaine took the wooden spoon from his hand.

"What kind of meat is it?" he asked, knowing it wasn't clam chowder now.

"Veal and pork. Just break it up in the pan as it cooks, it needs to brown before I add anything else," Kurt said, getting a plastic bag from the freezer and taking out two red chunks of something. He ran the blender to make the tomatoes into mush and got another plastic bag from the refrigerator, unfolding a paper towel to break off several large leaves of some herb, then get the kitchen shears to cut a bundle off of the plant growing on the windowsill. When he did that, the aroma was strong enough for Blaine to smell it over by the stove.

"Mmmmm...thyme?" he asked. It was heavenly.

"Yes, good nose, Blaine," Kurt smiled.

Kurt leaned his back against the counter and watched as Blaine stirred the contents of the pan.

"How are you coming with the '55 Chevy? Do you have the engine running yet?" Kurt asked. Blaine had been spending a weekend here and there with his father trying to rebuild the old classic. It was his father's idea to bring them closer together but that plan was not working and Blaine resented the time it took from other projects. Blaine would rather be writing songs or playing his guitar. He was surprised at his father's knowledge of the old car, and they had done some work on it, mostly sending panels out to be refinished and painted. After much discussion and a lot of convincing on Blaine's part, they had decided on painting it the original two-toned aqua and white. They had the upholstery redone in the same colors and the transmission and various things had been done, but it still didn't run. Of course it didn't matter all that much since he was too young to drive yet, but all the time spent on the car made him sort of like the car.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked for the third time.

"Oh...sorry, I was just thinking. Yes?" Blaine shook his head a little bit and looked over at Kurt who was staring at him. It had been a while since he was so spacey.

"Are you all right?" Kurt asked, placing a warm hand on his back.

"Yeah. I was thinking about asking your dad something and I wanted to work out how I was going to ask him," Blaine confessed.

"Can I help?" Kurt asked, taking the pan and draining the grease from the meat. He put the pan back on the stove and added the red chunks.

"What are those?" Blaine asked.

"Tomato paste. I freeze it in tablespoon chunks so I can just get as much as I need out and not waste any. Now, what is this business with my dad?"

"What business?" Burt asked, stepping in from the backyard.

"Oh...well, Mr. Hummel, it's about my car," Blaine said.

Burt just looked at him.

"You mean that old Chevy your dad was rebuilding with you?"

"Yes. He hasn't been home long enough to work on it for about five months now and the other day he asked me if I wanted to sell it. I guess I could do that, even though it isn't done, but I kind of want to finish what I started. All the body and upholstery are done, the rear end and tranny are done. I need to work on getting the engine running. I was wondering if you could give me a little help? I'll do all the work if you could sort of....guide me?" Blaine said hesitantly. He had wanted to practice what he would say before he confronted Burt, but life never turns out the way you think it will.

Burt stood still for a few moments. He knew Kurt was not as thrilled with having to work on cars as Burt had hoped at one point in his life. He also knew from the beginning that Mr. Anderson would probably abandon the Chevy project as soon as Blaine invested himself in it. He wished he had been wrong. This was exactly what he knew would happen and he had decided long ago that he would help Blaine finish the car if he needed it.

"Yeah, seeing as how this is your birthday and all, I guess we could get it towed down to the lot behind the shop and we can work on it when we have time," Burt said. Blaine threw himself into Burt's arms. The only person grinning wider than Blaine was Kurt, so happy to see Blaine excited about something. Burt looked over Blaine's shoulder where he was hugging him and caught his son's eyes. Kurt mouthed "I love you, Dad" and wiped a tear from his eye.

"I'll call Melvin tomorrow and we'll get it moved," Burt said, breaking free from the embrace.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Hummel. You are the best dad ever."

Blaine turned back to Kurt to help with the cooking once again and Burt stood there for a minute, realizing what Blaine had said. He blushed and went on into the den to see what was on the television. How sad was it that he was a better dad than Blaine's own father? Pretty damn sad. And sadder than that was there was nothing Burt could do to make Mr. Anderson a better dad to his sons.

Back in the kitchen, Kurt was putting the pan back on the stove and adding a cup of white wine.

"Wine?" Blaine asked.

"The alcohol will cook out of it. It's the flavor of the wine we want, not the alcohol," Kurt said, stirring the pan.

"There's a lot left over..." Blaine said, winking at Kurt. "I'm pretty sure we can think of something to do with the leftovers."

"Put it in the refrigerator and use it in another dish?" Kurt said, looking very sober for a moment, then letting his laugh loose. He giggled and bent over holding his stomach for a few minutes, Blaine doing the same. It wasn't that it was all that funny, just that they needed some kind of outlet for their stress and seized the opportunity when it struck.

"Okay, back to the dinner. I need a cup of milk," Kurt said and Blaine made a face.

"Milk? In tomato soup?"

"Well, if it was tomato soup, some people make cream of tomato soup and use milk. But this is not tomato soup. Just get it and stop asking so many questions. This is supposed to be a surprise," Kurt frowned and Blaine laughed again. Kurt looked so funny with the fake frown on his face. Blaine went to get the milk and measure it out, pouring the milk into the pot.

"Now, if you will stir that until it reduces the liquid to half, I'll get the next ingredients," Kurt said. "Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you having fun? You know you don't have to stay in here with me. I can do this by myself if you would rather go watch a game or something on TV with Dad."

"No, I like cooking. I think I'll stay in here if that's okay....I mean, well, was that you trying to tell me to leave?"

"No, Blaine. Of course not. I just didn't want you to be bored or anything. It is your birthday," Kurt smiled at his friend.

"Good. I'd rather be with you, Kurt..." he said, but Kurt was running back to the stove and grabbing the wooden spoon.

"Oh! I thought I had left it alone too long. Whew. No, it's just right. Now, we add the chicken stock, tomatoes, the bundle of thyme, and the bay leaves."

Kurt kept his back to Blaine for a few minutes, pretending to be very busy stirring and adding things. He had blushed at Blaine's words. It was nice that Blaine wanted to be with him, but Kurt wanted him to want more...to love him in a way he knew Blaine could never love him back. He had to repeat over and over to himself that Blaine was in his life and he had no right to ask for more. Being his best friend was all he could reasonably ask for, so it would have to be enough. Kurt was going crazy in his head every time his hand brushed Blaine's, every time he was close enough to smell his shampoo or brush against his arm. It sent tingles down his arms and made him catch his breath. And it was getting worse. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep up this pretense of just being a friend. Until the end of your life, a little voice in his head told him.

"Okay, now we need six cups of chicken broth. I put it in a container in the back of the refrigerator on Thursday when I made it," Kurt said, trying to get his mind back on the Bolognese sauce.

Blaine found it and got out the pyrex four-cup measure. He poured it full and slowly poured it into the pan. Kurt turned up the heat until it was boiling, then reduced the heat to a low simmer. He placed a lid on the top, but offset it a bit.

"That needs to simmer for about four hours now. We can go do something, but I have to check it once in a while. We can add more chicken stock if it starts to get dry."

"And it's not soup?" Blaine asked, looking very doubtfully at his friend.

"Nope. Not soup." Kurt chuckled. He loved driving Blaine a bit crazy.

~*~

"Hey, Blaine, are you guys done in the kitchen for a while?" Burt asked.

"Yeah, did you need us to help with anything?" Blaine answered. He and Kurt were getting ready to listen to some music but it was nothing important.

"I was wondering if you could help me out in the garden shed for a few minutes," Burt said. He winked at Kurt when Blaine wasn't looking.

"Sure," Blaine smiled. He was always willing to help out whenever possible.

The boys followed Burt to the shed, Blaine taking Kurt's hand as usual. Burt got to the shed and started to unlock the door and Blaine heard a whine. He looked around, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary and the Hummels didn't seem to notice anything.

"Okay, Blaine, sit down on the grass there and close your eyes," Burt said, "Kurt and I have a present for you."

Blaine gave him a funny look but complied without comment. Burt opened the door to the shed and a fat red puppy waddled out. She spotted Blaine sitting while the other people were standing and recognized her prospects were better with the boy. She shimmied her little butt and walked slowly closer and closer until she was in his lap. The look on Blaine's face was absolutely perfect as he opened his eyes and Kurt got a shot on his phone of the puppy licking his face and Blaine looking at her with a goofy "I'm in love" expression.

"Ohhh?? Burt? Kurt? Is she...?" he could not string two words together to make any sense, but the Hummels knew what he was saying.

"Yes, son, she's yours. Treat her like a princess and she'll be your best friend for life," Burt said, grinning at how happy Blaine was.

Kurt sat down next to Blaine and put out a hand to let the puppy sniff. She was wiggling all over, her butt doing the shimmy while her tongue was lapping Blaine's cheeks.

"Come here little princess, come see me," Kurt called and the pup loped in a circle then over to get pets and love from this new person. Kurt grinned because, well, what else can you do when something that beautiful climbs in your lap?

Burt leaned over and snapped his fingers and she immediately went to him, rolling over on her back.

"No, I don't need to scratch your belly, missy. Sit." he said and the pup got up and sat, looking at his face as if asking what he wanted her to do next. Burt smiled and said, "Lie down." and she complied.

"She knows about eight commands now, but she can learn more. She is four months old and I signed you up for obedience classes. For the dog. I couldn't find one to take you, Blaine," Burt deadpanned. Blaine looked at him for a moment and burst into laughter.

"Ah, okay...Of course I'll go with her and we'll practice. Oh, this is the best birthday present I ever got. I always wanted a dog...." Blaine got a funny look on his face and his smile faded away. "But...I don't think I can have her. My parents...." He looked close to tears.

"I thought of that, Blaine. You have a huge fenced yard. I think if I speak to them we can work something out. If she isn't allowed to be at your house, she can stay here on those days; but I think with training your parents will see that she isn't any trouble. You will have to put forth the effort to keep her brushed, keep the yard clean by shoveling up her messes, keeping her fed and healthy. If I see she isn't being taken care of, I will take her back. Understood?" Burt asked in a firm tone.

"Yes, Mr. Hummel, oh, yes, and thank you so much," he hugged him once more and Burt went back in the house.

Blaine scooted over close to Kurt. "Kurt? She is so beautiful, but she can't be my best friend for life because that honor has always been yours." He took Kurt's hand and held it tight for a moment, then kissed him quickly on the cheek. He wanted to hold it forever, he wanted it to mean something, but maybe being his best friend would be enough. He started to sigh, but the pup saw he looked sad, climbed in his lap and cuddled close to his chest, giving a low-pitched whine. She poked her nose at his hand until he gave her a pet on the head and rubbed her ears. He wondered how she knew he was feeling a tiny bit sad.

"Blaine, you know you're my best friend for life, too," Kurt said, reaching over to stroke the setter's ears. Her fur was silky soft and a glossy, deep red mahogany color that looked so pretty as the sun hit it.

"What should we name her?" Blaine asked.

"We? No, she's your dog, Blaine You should name her," Kurt said.

"You know we share everything, and she will probably have to stay here if my parents say no. I think she should be a family dog," Blaine said, very serious. He knew Kurt had wanted a dog when he was little and wondered if he still did. He didn't want to take that opportunity away from him.

"Oh, you just want me to help you shovel dog poo!" Kurt kidded and Blaine laughed.

"Nope. I will do that. I'll walk her, feed her, and do whatever she needs. But if she's going to be my best friend, then she has to be yours, too." Blaine said and Kurt smiled back at him.

"Okay, Blaine. I think we'll do fine. Right now, I need to get back to the kitchen, then in an hour, you and I are going shopping at the pet store to get her everything the young modern dog needs."

"Only you could turn getting a puppy into going on a shopping spree, Kurt. Only you," Blaine laughed. He rolled over on his stomach and called to his new playmate while hiding his head in his arms. She went a bit nuts trying to dig a hole to get to him and the boys laughed. Blaine found a stick to throw for her and Kurt left them to play while he went back to the kitchen.

"Oh, hey Dad," Kurt said, walking in the back door. "I think getting him a dog was a wonderful idea. He sure seems taken with her – not that I blame him. She is a beautiful dog."

Burt smiled. "He needs somebody to love him unconditionally. Nobody fits that bill like a dog," Burt said.

Kurt's face turned into a frown. "I...well, I kind of thought we fit that bill, Dad. I love him unconditionally."

"I know you do, Kurt, and I cannot imagine what life would be like for him if he didn't have you in his corner. I'm just saying, the dog will bond to him in a different way and he can tell it things that he needs to, knowing she won't judge him or tell anyone else. I know he trusts you, kiddo, but you are so close that I think he has things he isn't comfortable sharing with you yet. Give him time, Kurt. He'll come around. I think I can promise that," Burt told his son.

His heart went out to both of the boys, but he felt caught between a rock and a hard place. They had both come out to him, but they were both so nervous about the other one finding out...and Burt wanted to tell them, but he had promised to keep it a secret. This was tearing him apart inside, but he had to keep it all a secret. They would work it out one day. He scolded himself, knowing it was not his business to say anything. He sighed and hugged Kurt.

Kurt hugged his father back, gripping tighter as the pain of holding in his secret tore at him. He wanted to tell Blaine that he was gay – didn't Blaine just tell him he was his best friend? But what if Blaine was repulsed by it? Kurt could not take that risk. He could not lose Blaine, ever. He started to cry and Burt held him closer.

"Hey, now, Kurt. It's all going to work itself out one day soon. I promise."

"I know Dad. I'm trying to keep the faith here, but some days are just better than others. I had best get busy with the pasta so it's ready to cook for dinner," he said, wiping his eyes. "We did make him happy, didn't we?"

"We sure did, kiddo, we sure did," Burt agreed, looking out the back window at Blaine rolling in the grass with the dog.

About an hour later, Blaine walked into the kitchen with the pup at his heel.

"Look! She knows what 'heel' means. What a smart dog," he beamed. Kurt looked up and gave his best friend a grin.

"Yeah, she sure is. Now get her out of my kitchen."

"Awww, Kurt, she'll behave, I promise. She'll sit where I tell her and I'll be responsible if she does anything wrong – which she won't," Blaine pleaded.

"Okay, but if I find so much as one red hair in my food tonight, we are going to have words, Blaine Anderson," Kurt tried to look ferocious, but it didn't work and Blaine giggled.

"What are you making now?" he asked.

Kurt had a pile of flour on the counter top and had just put a well in the center, like a crater. He started breaking eggs into the flour, popping the yolks and mixing each one into the flour very gently with a fork and shaking a bit of salt into the mix. When about half the flour was mixed in, Kurt set down the fork and used his hands. He mixed the dough gently, incorporating more and more flour in until the dough was to his liking.

"Oh, can I knead it?" Blaine asked. He went to the sink to wash his hands.

"Sure. I'm getting kind of tired," Kurt said, sitting on the stool by the stove. He lifted the lid and skimmed off the tiny bit of fat that had collected on the top of the sauce. Just as he turned to look at Blaine stepping over to the counter wiping his hands dry, his friend sniffed and a beautiful smile blossomed across his face.

"Oh, Kurt! I know that smell...you're making me Sauce Bolonese, aren't you?" Blaine shouted. He rushed across the room throwing his arms around Kurt. "Really? You made that for me? You're right, it is my favorite thing on earth to eat...oh, wow....how did you know?"

"Well, for one thing, I've known you almost half your life, and for another, I called Cooper last week and asked him. I hope it turns out, I've never made it before," Kurt said, blushing at all the complements. Blaine picked Kurt up and whirled him around, only setting him down when Kurt demanded it.

"You have made me so happy today, Kurt!" he said and leaned forward to kiss Kurt's cheek.

Kurt would have done anything to have that kiss land on his lips, but counted himself lucky to have been kissed at all. He put his arms around Blaine and held on tightly for a few moments...not near long enough...and then pulled back.

"Hey, get busy with the dough so I can get the pasta rolled. It has to air dry for a while before we can cook it."

Blaine skipped over to the counter and began kneading the dough, a happy smile on his face. Kurt went over and put his arms around Blaine's waist, placing his head against his back and just held on for a few moments, then pulled away – wiping a few tears from his eyes. Blaine had finished kneading the pasta dough and turned around, hearing Kurt sniffle.

"Hey, now..what's this about?" he asked, placing a dough-covered hand on Kurt's cheek. Kurt didn't even object to that, so Blaine got concerned. "Seriously, what's going on?"

"Nothing, it's just that I wanted you to be happy and, well, you are. That's the best present I could ever have and it isn't even my birthday," Kurt whimpered. Blaine put his arms back around his friend.

"Kurt, I'm always happy when I'm here with you guys. You know this is my home more than the place my parents live. I love you guys like my own family. I wouldn't have had such a fantastic childhood if it wasn't for you and your dad. And for you to get me a puppy and make me Bolognese? It's like I died and went to heaven. Thank you, Kurt."

Kurt reached up with his thumb and wiped away the few tears that were trailing down his cheeks.

"You're worth it, Blaine...so worth it. We love you, too," Kurt said, but in his mind he was saying: I love you, Blaine, with all my heart. Me. I. Love.You. But he would never have the guts to say it because he might break Blaine's heart if he found out his best friend was gay. He just hugged Blaine one more time and went to put the pasta dough in the refrigerator for twenty minutes.

Blaine was leaning over, petting his new puppy and happened to glance over at Kurt walking away. Kurt was so great to look at. That was Blaine's guilty pleasure – looking at Kurt when he wasn't aware of it. Kurt was so beautiful in Blaine's eyes – perfect skin, gorgeous hair, and his eyes....well, just his eyes. Blaine closed his own eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

Blaine and Kurt sat together on the sofa watching a movie and eating grapes. They made a game of it, Blaine tossing a grape in the air and Kurt trying to catch it in his mouth. Then they did it the other way. Blaine was winning.

"So, did you name the dog yet?" Kurt asked, indicating the pup asleep on the sofa beside Blaine.

"Yes," Blaine smiled at the red puppy, stroking her silky ears. "Your dad gave me the idea. He said to treat her like a princess...so I named her Princess."

At the sound of her name, the little setter's ears pricked up. She lifted her head and waved her tail a few times, then set her head back on her paws as if it was just too heavy to move and fell back asleep.

"I think you tired her out, Blaine," Kurt said, reaching across Blaine to pet the dog.

"Nah...she's just young. I bet she would get up and play with us if we wanted her to," Blaine said back, defending his girl.

"We could walk over to the pet store and buy her a few things," Kurt offered.

"Okay, I'll carry her. Then we can get a collar and leash and walk her back," Blaine said, slipping his shoes back on and tying them.

"Hey, Dad?" Kurt asked. "Can you stir the sauce every twenty minutes or so...and add a ladle of chicken broth if it looks like it's getting dry?"

"Sure Kurt. No problem," Burt said. "Have a good time, don't spoil her too much."

Blaine and Kurt came home an hour later, Princess sporting a new plaid collar and leash and three bags full of things for her. Blaine had agreed to vitamins, a few things for the training class: a head harness, a very long leash, a clicker. Added to that, they got her two steel bowls for water and food, a mat for placing the bowls on that said "I love my Irish Setter", a rope with a tennis ball attached for throwing and fetching, a stuffed raccoon that made a crying sound when it was squeezed, a book about Irish setters, and a package of green bows for her ears. She was wearing two of them now.

What Blaine refused to consider were cute jackets, boots for dogs, a backpack that the sales lady tried to talk him into, and a rubber duck. He also balked at the price of a dog bed, telling Kurt she could sleep on his bed which led to an argument because it was also Kurt's bed and he didn't want dog hair in his linens. They compromised by deciding to buy the necessary things to make her a bed. All in all, it was an exhausting trip but they had fun.

By evening, Kurt had set the table with bright fiestaware plates in rainbow colors. It looked beautiful and he had decorated the room with balloons and streamers. Cooper rang the doorbell and Princess barked but Blaine silenced her with a motion of his hand.

"Hey, Kurt, I thought I heard a dog bark?" Coop said, walking into the house.

"Well, you might have. Blaine is in the den watching a movie," Kurt smiled.

Cooper walked into the den and saw his little brother sitting with a fat red puppy sprawled across his lap. He started to walk closer and the dog put it's head up, the green bows askew on her ears giving her a clown appearance. She cocked her head to one side and looked at the newcomer.

"Oh, my god...you got a puppy!!" Cooper laughed, enjoying the look of joy on his brother's face. He rushed to sit next to Blaine, petting Princess and talking with his brother and Kurt.

After talking about the pup, Cooper got a serious look on his face.

"I'm so glad you're happy, Squirt. But it makes me twice as sad to be the one to bring bad news."

"Mom and Dad aren't coming home for my birthday, are they?" Blaine said.

"No. Their flight out of Munich was canceled and they're waiting for another flight. They will try to be home by the weekend. I'm so sorry," he said, putting a supporting arm around his brother.

"I didn't really expect them to show up, so don't worry. I'm sure they did the best they could," Blaine said. Just then his cell phone rang. He didn't even take it out of his pocket.

"Don't you think you should answer that?" Cooper asked.

"Probably somebody from school, I'll call them back later," Blaine said. Kurt slipped his hand into Blaine's and leaned against him. Kurt knew that was Mrs. Anderson's ring tone.

After a spectacular dinner of homemade pappardella pasta with Bolognese sauce and orange cake for dessert, Cooper left for home. He had given Blaine some cash in a card and a stuffed donkey that reminded him of one Blaine had when he was a baby. He also got him a new cell phone with all the latest bells and whistles on it. Blaine loved it.

Kurt had made him the dinner and cake, but still had one more present for his friend. Blaine opened it and found two CDs with all of his favorite songs on them and a large journal with a tooled leather cover and a fountain pen. When he opened the pages he found it was filled with staff paper for writing music.

"Oh, Kurt, this is so perfect. Thank you so much!" Blaine crowed, excited to start writing a song right away.

"I'm glad you like it, Blaine. Now write me a song so I can play it when I'm old and gray and you've long forgotten me because you are a big star. Okay?" Kurt said, wishing Blaine really would write him a love song.

~KBKBKBKBKBKBKBKBKBKB~

A few months later, Blaine was home in bed with strep throat. He had felt sick for a day or so but when he got a fever, Burt took him to the doctor. Now he was taking antibiotics and drinking apple juice. Burt had stayed home yesterday with him, but he had to get back to the office, so Blaine was alone for most of the day. Kurt got home as soon as he could from school and walked into the bedroom.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Kurt asked. He wasn't sure what to do to make his friend feel better, but he had made chicken soup for dinner.

"Tired, bored, and sick. But now you're home, I feel much better," Blaine tried to smile at his friend, but he was so tired it came out half-hearted.

"Well, I have the kettle on to make you some peppermint tea for your throat. I'll add some honey and a drop of whisky like Dad makes me when I get sick," Kurt told him and he tried to smile again.

"Thanks, Kurt. You really are my best friend...." Blaine closed his eyes.

"Here, let me rub your back, that might make you feel better. Can I try?" Kurt offered.

"Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Kurt," Blaine said and Kurt pulled at the hem of his pajama shirt.

"Shirt off, please," he said and Blaine got a little hitch in his breath. It was hard not to act like something had happened, his heart was beating hard, his breath a little fast. He nodded – there was no way he could form a word – and Kurt unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it down his shoulders and off.

"Now, lie down on your tummy and I'll go find some oil," Kurt said. He returned in a few moments with a bottle of massage oil that smelled like jasmine and chamomile. "Just the thing to relax you," Kurt smiled at Blaine. Blaine lay still, sending messages to his body to stay still and not get excited.

Kurt poured some oil in his palm and rubbed it between his hands, then began rubbing it over the muscles in Blaine's back. He smoothed the oil all over, then concentrated on the back of Blaine's neck, just gently rubbing and then stroked down to his shoulder blades. He followed the contours of the muscles and felt how strong Blaine was as he shifted position and the muscles bunched up as he moved. Kurt continued, humming a quiet tune as he concentrated on Blaine. He was thinking about how nice this would be if he and Blaine were something more than just friends, but then put those silly notions away, knowing that it would never come to pass.

He began to think maybe he was ready to tell Blaine the truth – that he was gay, but the fear of how that could change the dynamic of their friendship scared him. Would Blaine let him give him even an innocent back rub if he knew Kurt was gay? Probably not. And Kurt wasn't willing to risk that. The worst fear was that Blaine would never share the bed with him any more. As it was, they had been sleeping together in Kurt's queen sized bed for years, and Kurt dreaded those few weeks a year when Blaine actually went to his parents' home to sleep. He was not willing to give up sleeping with Blaine just to clear his conscience.

Blaine was resting his head on his crossed arms as he lay on his belly. Kurt's hands were warm and felt so good rubbing the soreness out of his back. He had been so uncomfortable today, he could not get into a position that alleviated the ache in his muscles. Kurt knew exactly where to push, where to stroke lightly, how make it feel better. Kurt leaned in and pressed harder, trying to loosen a particular muscle and Blaine groaned with the relief of it...then blushed because he knew what that must have sounded like. Would Kurt still want to rub his back – or even touch him or sleep in the same bed if he knew Blaine was gay? It was thoughts like this that drove him crazy. He wanted so badly to believe Burt when he said it would not make any difference to Kurt, but Blaine couldn't chance anything like that. The stakes were too high. So, he sighed one more time under his breath and closed his eyes to relax into the massage, trying in vain to clear his mind.

Massage done, Kurt went to the bathroom and washed his hands. He came back with a hot towel and laid it on Blaine's back.

"There, does that feel any better?" Kurt asked and Blaine smiled at his friend.

"It's perfect, Kurt. Just perfect. Thank you so much," he smiled back.

Kurt curled up next to Blaine, their backs touching. They slept like this often, not wanting to cuddle but needing to feel the other even in their sleep. Kurt closed his eyes and tried not to react to the noise Blaine made when he was massaging his back. Kurt knew that was the kind of noise he longed to hear from Blaine, but in very different circumstances. He sighed to himself and tried not to think about it any more. It was just a dream that would never come true. He shifted his weight to get a bit closer to Blaine and fell asleep, wishing his half-hard erection would stop reminding him of what he wanted because it was out of reach.

A few days later, Blaine was feeling much better. It was the start of the winter holidays and school was out until January. The boys had decorated the house with lights and holly, sweet smelling pine boughs and mistletoe in the front hall. Burt came home for dinner and they all ate in pleasant silence. After dinner everyone was sitting in the den and Blaine brought out his guitar.

"I know it isn't Christmas yet, but I have a present for you both," Blaine said, smiling at Burt and Kurt as they sat on the sofa together. Burt turned to his son and took his hand for a moment, squeezing it as they waited for Blaine to begin. Blaine strummed a few chords, then adjusted a string on his guitar. He took a deep breath and sang:

Home,
I've heard the word before,
but it never meant much more
than just a thing I've never had.

A "place,"
They say, "Hey, know your place!"
But I've never had a place to even know,
or a face that I could go to
if I needed someone there...

I'm laughing
it's hard to hide a smile
My god, it's been a while
since I have had a reason to.

To think
it's been here all along
somewhere to belong,
and a reason,
a something-to-believe-in

I've finally found it,
a place where I'm wanted...
This must be how it feels to have a home

I used to dream about it
but never schemed or counted
on fantasies or wishes-
it breaks a man to see what he misses

And so many nights I'd pray
for a better life, a better day
but I never thought that it'd come true
It's finally here and I don't know what to do
and I'm trying not to cry

This must be how it feels
to have a home

I've finally made it
I've hoped and I've waited
and for the first time in my life, I don't feel so
alone

My heart starts to heal
to know this is real.
This is how it must feel
to have a home!

His voice was perfect, and he only let the emotion through in the last lines. Tears were running down the faces of both Burt and Kurt as they clapped. Blaine wiped his own face and set the guitar aside, trying to think of what to say. Kurt saved him from that by getting up and taking Blaine's hand, bringing him over to the sofa to sit between Burt and himself.

There were no words to start with, only two people hugging Blaine and covering him with all the love they had for him.

"Oh, Blaine, that is the best Christmas present I could ever imagine," Burt said, finally able to speak without squeaking with emotion. "You will always have a home here, always."

"We love you, Blaine, and you will always be our family, no matter what," Kurt said, and the tears came faster – cascading down Blaine's cheeks. He was still in awe of how much love these two men had for him.

"I love you both, too," he said, voice shaky.

They sat for a while, just holding on to each other. The timer in the kitchen rang and Kurt got up to take care of it. In a little while he called the others into the dining room where there were dessert plates set on the table and a caramel flan in the center. A pot of hot tea was ready and they had a nice time sitting and chatting, remembering some of the best things from the year. Princess was Blaine's best memory, and he leaned down to pet her as she sat beside him.

Burt finally yawned and said he was going to bed, he had work in the morning.

"Don't stay up too late, boys, and remember to lock up before you go to bed," he said as he walked up the stairs to his bedroom.

"I guess we better be getting to bed, too," Kurt said. They let Princess out back one last time, then started down to bed. As they walked through the hall, Princess bumped into Blaine, who was then off balance. He grabbed at Kurt to keep from falling and Kurt held him up so he could stand. They stood there for a moment when Kurt looked up to see the mistletoe hanging above him. He nudged Blaine and smiled.

It was hard to say which one initiated the kiss because it happened at the same moment, both boys leaned in to each other. Kurt felt Blaine's soft lips as they touched his own and the spark exploded, traveling from his lips, down to his belly and a warm feeling seeped into his whole body. He was kissing Blaine. On the lips. And Blaine was kissing him back. He kept his eyes closed, just letting the feeling overwhelm him. His hands began to shake with the intensity of his emotions, and he wanted this kiss to last forever.

Blaine could not believe how one touch of his lips to Kurt's could feel so right. He had dreamed about this day for a year or more, telling himself that it would never come to pass. His hands came up of their own volition and cupped Kurt's jaw as he kept his lips there – never wanting it to end.

The kiss probably lasted 6 or 7 seconds before they broke apart, eyes locked on each other, fear that this was too much. It was another few seconds before Kurt blinked his eyes and Blaine turned away, the fear of rejection now taking over his brain. He grasped for the first excuse he could come up with to explain his behavior and the panic was starting to turn his blood to ice when Kurt spoke.

"I w..w..wonder how that tradition got started?" Kurt stuttered, trying to think of something – anything – to say to get over the awkwardness of the moment.

"Ah, I don't know. I think it was pagan? We should look it up," Blaine said, leaning over to pet Princess on the head. "Well, I guess we better get to bed."

They got into their pajamas, Kurt in the bedroom and Blaine in the bathroom. It was an awkward silence and they laid down, each on the very edge of the mattress facing away from each other. They tried to go to sleep, but both boys were too full of anxiety to be able to sleep. Each of them was well aware that the other wasn't asleep, but the cavern between them was yawning wider as the minutes ticked by. Finally, Kurt rolled over determined to do something because he could not last another minute like this. Just as he turned, the same thought crossed Blaine's mind and they turned at once, resulting in a laugh from both of them.

"Oh, Kurt, I just couldn't lie here thinking there was something wrong between us. Tell me there isn't, is there?" Blaine asked in a soft voice.

"No, at least I hope not. I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable....I was tired and not thinking and when I saw we were under the mistletoe, well, I...." he ran out of words and just looked at Blaine with his expression begging forgiveness from his friend.

"Good. I mean, the same thing happened to me, and we are so close, kind of like brothers and..." Blaine could not think of what to say, but he was thinking that the kiss was not like any fraternal kiss he could imagine. He loved Cooper with all his heart, but would never have kissed him like that, mistletoe or not.

"Okay, then we're good?" Kurt asked, not wanting to talk about it any more in case Blaine would ask him an awkward question.

"Yeah, we're good. Is it okay if we..." Blaine could not find the courage to ask Kurt to hold him, but he held out his hands and Kurt smiled. He scooted to the middle and Blaine met him half-way. They were cuddled together, Blaine's nose buried in Kurt's neck, their arms and legs entwined, and both were sound asleep in minutes.