It was dusk by the time Blaine returned from the park on Sunday. He curled up on the couch, which he was no longer living on, and began scrolling through the photos hed captured that day. In the couple of days that have gone by, Blaine has been enraptured in a new energy. Most of daylight, he spends scouring the city for whimsical moments.

"Oh," his roommates proclamation startled Blaine out of his cynosure. "Youre back. How was the park?"

Blaine shrugged his shoulders. "As whimsical as Hogwarts."

"Would Hogwarts really be considered whimsical?" Kurt pondered, his words fading along with his footsteps.

Blaine twisted in the couch to glimpse him returning from his bedroom. "I thought maybe it could be." He lamely defended.

Much like his presence, Kurts voice entered the living room. "Narnia maybe, but not Hogwarts."

Blaine slumped his shoulders back over his camera. "Where are you even going?" He grumbled, referring to the luggage Kurt was parading out of his room.

"Im leaving for Thanksgiving, remember?" Blaine 

Blaine glanced over the couch towards Kurt, swamped in his large sweatshirt adorning McKinley Football. He was hauling a large duffle bag from his room, delivering it to the door. "What?"

"Yeah, I leave tomorrow, so I just need to be damn sure that everything is set." Kurt replied, not slowing down. The second half of his words faded as he disappeared into his room yet again. "Its an early morning, so everything must be set."

"Wait, Kurt!" Leaving? And for how long? Thats a lot of suitcases. Blaine tumbled off the couch and hurried towards Kurts room with a purpose. But, crossing the threshold caused him to relent to caution; he usually doesnt go in there. He stopped, his body sagging against the door frame. "Where are you going?"

Kurt was standing over his neatly made bed, folding clothes and placing them into yet another suitcase. When he turned his face up to Blaine, it was riddled with befuddlement and a slight tinge of intrusion. "Im going home to Ohio." He replied in his own defensive. Or maybe in territorial protection of his clearly denoted portion of the apartment. "Did I not tell you?" The careless way he shrugged off his own neglegence vexed Blaine.

"Youre leaving? Kurt, Ive never been in this city alone for longer than a night, how long will you be gone?"

"Does it really matter?" Kurt snapped. "Arent you going home soon, too? Its thanksgiving break. Home is awaiting."

"No it isnt." Blaine grumbled.

Kurt dropped the shirt he was folding a fixed him with a look. It was that look, the one youd bestow upon those whom were so clearly delusionaly immature. "Do you seriously believe you can stay in the city for thanksgiving? You really believe you can handle burnt tofurkey and no crescent rolls and paying a homeless druggie to buy you some wine, because youre under aged?"

"I was hoping you would buy it." Blaine grumbled.

"I doubt youre ready to be in a room spilling to the brim with drag queens and bougie prostitutes and gaudy pop music. Go home, Blaine."

"It sounds like youre speaking from experience."

Kurt bulldozed over Blaines insinuation. "And did you actually think you and Tina could have your own mini thanksgiving? Really Blaine?" He asked instead.

"No, every year her family goes turkey hunting in Alabama. I was invited to go, but its not for me."

"Then why dont you go home? Im sure your parents wanna see you."

Blaine laughed humorlessly. "Im sure they dont." That spiked Kurts interest. It was a rare thing for Blaine to open up.

"Why do you say that?" He wondered. Kurt gandered at Blaine with an encouraging light in his eyes. 

"I dont know."

For Kurt, this was still such an absurd concept to grasp; everyone loves their parents and receives love from them, right? Kurt knows he does. "Do you believe thats true?"

"I dont know."

"Blaine. Whats up? Honest."

The poor kid stood there, his lips scrunched into a pucker, as if his tongue itself was a rope of sour apple candy. He dug the heels of his hands into his sockets in a way that Kurt was suprised the hazel survived to blink back at him. "My parents died." Chapped lips uttered. He spoke so softly, Kurt almost felt the reflexive urge to ask for clarification. But, he was pretty damn sure he understood and making him admit it again would be profoundly cruel.

"Blaine, Im so sorry." Kurt spoke through the ghostly hand hed placed over his mouth. Blaine shook his head, looking mortified. "And I know you hear this a lot, but please hear me out." He paused to take a breath. "I get what youre going through. My mom died when I was seven. Just old enough to remember all of her details. And, uh," His hand slid from his mouth to rest on his heart, two unsteady fingers tangled themselves in a loose string on his sweatshirts dauntingly long sleeves. "We lost my stepbrother just this past summer. So, yeah, I get it." The silence that followed could only have been described as a superellipsis. "Do you wanna come?"

"What?"

"Do you wanna come with me." Kurt echoed. "Dad and Carole wouldnt mind and we have space for you. Not to mention my dad would disown me if I let you spend the holiday alone."

"I dont have a ticket and I wouldnt want to intrude-"

"Youre not. Youre invited." Kurt smiled warmly at Blaine. "And besides, were driving there. Ill call my dad. You go pack, we leave at four. In the morning." Blaine hesitated, rooted in his spot, even when Kurt pulled out his phone and punched in his dads number. With the phone pressed to his ear, Kurt gave Blaine a shooing gesture and mouthed the words go pack to him. The door closed right after Kurt said, softly, "hey dad."

"Hey kiddo, whats up?"

"Nothing, Im packed and ready. I hit the road bright and early tomorrow."

"Glad to hear it. And hey, listen, Carole is always telling me this, dont try to be manly and drive the whole night. If you feel tired, pull in somewhere and get some rest, okay?"

"Of course, dad. I have the whole thing in a schedule, all the way down to bathroom stops in the cleanest gas stations along the way." Kurt assured him. He could hear his dad chuckle from all the way in Ohio.

"I expect nothing less. Youre just like your mom."

"How many times can you tell me that?"

"Not enough, buddy, not enough."

Kurt smiled, his eyes drifting to the picture of the lady with breathtakingly blue eyes taped to his mirror. The way his dad was smiling at her in the photo was reason enough to put it on display. And Kurt always adored the fact that she had a Rachel cut and rocked it. Maybe thats why he still loves watching FRIENDS reruns. "Hey dad, can I ask for a favor?"

"Sure, Kurt. What is it?"

"You know my roommate, Blaine? Ive mentioned him once or twice." Burt made an affirmative grumble. "Yeah, well, he doesnt really have anywhere to go for the break and I didnt want him to sit in the apartment alone all week. Because, did you know his parents passed away? And I thought maybe—"

"Of course he can stay with us."

"Thank you."

Burt cleared his throat. "You two are sharing your bed, right?"

"Dad! Blaine and I-"

"I just ask for accommodation purposes, Kurt. I dont need the details."

"Were roommates, dad, not bed mates. Or lovers."

"I never said you were lovers. I just thought maybe this Blake was someone special.

"Its Blaine, dad."

"Sorry. I would be very happy for you if you and Blaine wanted to see each other in a more than platonic way."

"We are just friends." Kurt clarified. "And I thought I could just camp out on the couch."

"Okay, Carole and I will adjust accordingly. Ill see ya soon, kiddo. I love you."

"I love you, too, dad."

"Drive safe."

"I will. Bye, dad."

At 4:03, a yellow taxi was outside the apartment, honking. Blaine shouldered his small duffle bag. On the other side, he added Kurts significantly larger bag. The two boys hauled the excessive luggage down the concrete steps and wrestled them into the taxi trunk. Like a game of Tetris.

As soon as the heated car was rolling on its way, Blaine was asleep again, his face leaning against the chilly window. Kurt gave the driver the address and leaned his head back against the seat. He should sleep, theres a lot of driving ahead for him. Despite his heavy lids, Kurt couldnt keep his eyes from floating between the ever changing scenery and the sleeping guy next to him. His curly hair was getting longer, intruding into his line of vision. There was no trace of his usual scruff, probably trying to clean up for Kurts parents. Kurt found it kinda cute. He was always red nosed and sniffly. Even in his sleep. Kurt didnt want to wake him up when the cab stopped.

He got out of the car and stepped around to Blaines side, knocking on the window until he began to stir. "Hey," Kurt said through the window. "Time to get up."

Blaine sat up slowly, opening his door. "Where are we?"

"Upper East Side, Ive got a friend here."

Blaine blinked up at him. "I thought you were from Ohio."

"I am, shes just lending me her car." Blaine nodded. "Get out of the cab, Blaine." He nodded again and slowly got out of his seat. "I already payed him. So, can you just handle the luggage and Ill get the car?" Again, he nodded. The repetitive head shaking was helping to clear his mind of the sleep. At least enough that he could focus on both of Kurts breathtakingly blue eyes, not just one of them. Kurt gave him a small nod, and turned towards an array of nice town houses.

Blaine watched him leave, tight jeans and all. It was cold outside. Really fucking cold. To warm himself up, he began moving all of Kurts bags, one by one, to the steps of the town house. Then, with the absence of grace, he plopped his own duffle and ass onto the paved steps and lit a cigarette. How was he supposed to go a week without smoking? Or maybe Kurts family wont mind. Fat chance. Blaine inspected the small cylinder of tobacco, contemplating life without it. That wasnt hard, considering that he picked up the habit barley four months ago. He lowered the cigarette to the concrete, ready to extinguish it. But, habit took hold of him and placed it back between his lips taking another drag.

The day Blaine smoked his first cigarette is still clear in his mind. It was his 18th birthday and he just wanted to try something new that was now legal for him. So, Cooper gave him the money and drove him to the drug store an hour before his party was supposed to start. The two brothers sat on the hood of Coopers car, their feet dangling above the parking lot of a local hike and bike trail. They swapped tales of their ending summer and plans for the upcoming fall, while Blaine choked down one Camel cigarette and Cooper nursed a BudLight—he didnt want to blow his big break by smoking; "its gonna happen, Blainers. This year, Cooper Anderson becomes a star." The whole experience convinced Blaine that smoking sucked. But, when he was driving his brothers classic convertible to his "suprise" party, his brother turned to him. His eyes were masked in black raybans and his hair was blown by the wind, but his smile as dashing as ever. And hed said, "you know, Blaine," finally hed out grown the name Blainers, "screw all of those stupid health class videos. That cigarette made you fucking badass." And it was that validation from someone Blaine aspired to be. Hed spent his entire life taking cues from his brother. The only crayon color Blaine ever wanted to be was Copper Anderson. And finally he was. He was cool.

Blaine made sure he was colored Copper Anderson when Kurt stepped out of the town house. In tow he had whom Blaine assumed was his old friend.

"Kurt, you did not tell me your carry on was so cute!" The girl exclaimed. Blaine turned to the suitcases behind him. Which one did she mean? Theres only about a hundred. But, when Blaine turned, the girl was looking back at him. She was in baggy sweat pants and a tshirt, that was probably more than Blaines half of the rent, and an untied robe over it. Her arms were opened to suggest a hug. Awkwardly Blaine rose, dropping his cigarette and crushing it out with his foot, before letting himself be roped into a bone crushing hug. 

"Mercedes, meet Blaine." Mercedes threw Kurt a suggestive wink. "Hes my roommate." He interjected, wishing Blaine was naive enough for the whole exchange to go over his head. But, he knew that wasnt reality.

"Will you be assisting in the driving?" She asked Blaine. He glanced to Kurt for an answer, who just shrugged. "Well, heres my spiel. Abide to all the laws and speed limits, even the stupid ones. No drunk driving, obviously. Id prefer if you didnt eat in the car. And no smoking in it either." She glanced down at Blaines crushed cigarette.

"Yes maam." He affirmed. She smiled at him and handed the keys off to Kurt.

"Okay, lets get this show on the road!" Kurt announced, grinning. He just couldnt wait to get home. Mercedes helped them load the bags into her Lexus, before saying her goodbyes to Kurt. "Thank you, again, for the car, Cedes."

"Hey, I owe you. Remember, I bust your windows." 

"Oh god." Kurt said around a laugh.

Mercedes laughed too, before getting serious. "You white boys drive safe, okay? I want you back here in one piece. Both of you."

"Dont worry, well be Drivers Ed model students." Kurt promised.

"And you know by one piece, I mean both of you like as an item." She held up two fingers intertwined together. 

"Mercedes..." Kurt warned.

"Hes cute!"

"I swear, between you and my dad..."

"Kurt, your dad is a smart man. I suggest you listen to him."

Kurt nodded, humoring her. "Ill be sure to do that. And Ill call you when we get to Ohio." 

"Okay, but right now Im going back to sleep."

From the passenger seat, Blaine saw their reflection in the rear view mirror. The two did a handshake that theyd probably made up years ago. Then, they went their separate ways, Kurt climbing into the drivers seat and Mercedes walking up the steps of her town house. She stood there waving until the car faded from view.