Chapter 22

Song used in this chapter: 
Avicii – Wake Me Up

May

Bro, it's Cooper.  Look, call me back, okay?  I really need to talk to you.

Blaine, it's Cooper.  I've been trying to get in touch with you for a few days.  You have got to call me back, B.

Hey, uhhh… Kurt, it's Coop.  Listen, I've been trying to get in touch with my brother for a few days now, and uhhh, can you just have him call me as soon as you guys get this?  It's really fucking important, man.  I mean, I wouldn't bother you guys this much if it wasn't.  Have him call me.  Thanks.

Blaine.  Call me.  It's Cooper. 

Blaine!  Call me.  Blaine, please.  It's important.

xK&Bx

“Oh my God!  Blaine, Blaine!  Shit!”  Kurt wails, rattling his hands for mercy, immobile and tightly attached to the headboard with the help of a pair of sharp, metal handcuffs.  He pulls, chain crashing between the spindles again; he needs to touch Blaine right this instant.  Besides, he's never fucked in his parents' house and it is awkwardly doing something to him.

“Fuck, Kurt. Jesus, you are so tight.”

Blaine pounds into his boyfriend like the sun won't shine if he doesn't commit to the burn and take it for all it's worth; it's really a common courtesy for those forced to live forever in the dark.  Every thrust finds a new angle, penetrating Kurt until he comes alive, free from all feeling, even the throbbing pain in his reddening wrists.  The friction is just right; there's nothing good in life that doesn't hurt just a little bit. The world spins, crooked on its axis with every grasp to Kurt's upper thigh, pulling him in as close as possible. Kurt allows himself to be manhandled any way Blaine deems appropriate, every muscle in his body stretching to their max, and Blaine journeys through hardly touched territory, gaining wisdom and knowledge with each way inside.  It's like coming home.  It's always like coming home.

All this time, I was finding myself
And I didn't know I was lost

“You're okay, pretty boy?”

“Harder, Blaine.  My God, don't stop.”

He takes Kurt, over and over again until they are teetering on the edge together but separate, dangerously swinging over the cliff into the familiar world of white.  Kurt hysterically welcomes his orgasm first; the joints in his legs straightening with a lock at the knee, cuffs digging harshly into his wrists, stomach tightening with shaky breaths escaping one short spurt at a time.  Blaine maintains his speed, well aware of the tip of his cock brushing against Kurt's prostate every single time.  He is experimenting with the ride through the entire shuddering hurricane.

Kurt returns to the real world slowly but surely, his sensitivity making him wince with each of Blaine's continued movements.  He patiently lingers until Blaine stills, filling Kurt to the brim, gloriously barebacked for not the last time in their lives together.  He feels the pant of Blaine's breaths heavily on his own body, until they calm minutes later.

“Kurt?”  Blaine pulls himself out and immediately coaxes Kurt's hole with his tongue, softly lapping and sucking, ensuring nothing's broken.  That would be a travesty.

Kurt still can't move; he writhes with both his legs extended again in the air for the best access.  “Oh my God, Blaine.”  Blaine's body, his mouth is a gift that keeps on giving.

Blaine kisses directly onto the opening then licks his lips.  He repositions to lie halfway on top of his boyfriend.  “Okay?”

“Mmmergghhhh...”

Blaine pushes up further onto Kurt's chest and kisses his mouth.

Kurt moans like he's not quite done but they both know he is. 

If this is any indication to the rest of Blaine's life with Kurt Hummel, he'd have to say he's satisfied at the very least.

Blaine collapses down next to his down-for-anything boyfriend, breathing heavily into his ear.  “Love you.”

“Love you more if you let me use my hands.”

“Oh!  Jesus, Kurt.”  He giggles and unlocks the cuffs.  They come off, rattling against the headboard, and Blaine takes both of Kurt's wrists in his hands, flipping them and rubbing them.  No real damage, only some markings that will probably turn into bruises.  It'll be okay in a few days.

They both fall asleep through butterfly kisses and strokes of fingertips to bare skin and chest hair.

xK&Bx

“Holy shit, I am so sore.”  Kurt comes out of the bathroom, massaging his right temple with his hand, as though he has a headache.  “Also, look.”  Kurt sits on the bed and holds out both of his hands, palms facing the heavens above.

Blaine is puttering around their bedroom, failing miserably at the simple task of finding his Pre-Calculus textbook.  He is bent over his bag as he searches but looks up at the sound of Kurt's voice.

“Jesus, Kurt!”  His eyes get wide.  “Why didn't you tell me to stop?  I could have stopped!”  He grins.  “Maybe.”

“A constant reminder of how you had me.”  He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows.

Blaine frowns.  “Are you okay?  You should have said something if it was hurting you too much!  I could have… done something.  Did you even like it?” He springs himself to his feet and watches Kurt as he carefully sits on the bed, wincing slightly at the pressure.  “And you're sore too.  Jesus, I really fucked up.”  Blaine finds himself sitting on his lap and kissing Kurt innocently, arms wrapped around his neck.   “I'm sorry.  Never again.”

“I'm fine, baby.  Please again, I loved it.  I want it again right now.”  Kurt takes his phone from the side table and starts to thumb through missed contacts, deeming nothing really out of the ordinary.  “Cooper texted.  Told me to tell you to call him.”

“God.  He's crazy.”

Blaine's phone does a dance, buzzing its way all the way off the desk, burying itself in the jumble of wires on the floor.  Blaine watches it absently, unfazed by his phone constantly blowing up lately.  It can't possibly be that important, whatever it is.  He'll call Cooper back later.

“Mmmm, want you.”  Kurt flutters his eyelashes and grins.  “No, you'd be late.  It's a shame because I'm already kind of still open from last night and everything.  Wham, bam, thank you ma'am…”

Blaine gets up and lies on the floor, searching under the bed mostly as an effort to find his phone and textbook but also to avoid Kurt's bedroom eyes at all costs.  Grabbing the things he needs, and jumping up with his messenger bag, he says, “I'm walking away from you now.  But when I get home later, I am going to rock your world all over again and then maybe we'll accidently fall asleep with you still attached to your fucking headboard.  Then you won't be able to get yourself out, even to pee.  It's part of a whole set, you know.  It came with this spandex cop outfit thing that I would just die to see you in.”  He's grinning; it's a joke, unless Kurt really wants it.  “Or you know.  Whatever.”

Kurt blushes and laughs without sound. “Or maybe we switch it up because I am still throbbing from three hours of…” He shakes his head.  “I love you, B.  Don't beat anyone up today.  Come home to me in one piece, will you?”  He pushes back so he is lying on the bed with his face toward Blaine and snuggles up against his pillow.  “Is this what it's going to be like in New York?  You going out and providing for your gorgeous family and I get to spend all your money and I'll take all these sporadic naps until eleven?  And then you come home every day before the kids get back from school and you, and I quote, ‘rock my world'?”

“Precisely.”  He leans over and kisses Kurt again.  “Later, pretty.”

“I am not solely a bottom, Anderson!  Thought I proved that to you when I bent you over the countertop at-” The descending giggle and the slam of the door signifies that Blaine Anderson has left the building.  Kurt smiles to himself, then rolls over and falls asleep again. 

xK&Bx

Kurt chuckles when he wakes and the clock says it's eleven in the morning on the dot. 

He opens his computer to log into his business banking account and run through next week's payroll records.  He doesn't get that far though, because there is a strange folder saved to his desktop he's never seen before.  After a few curious clicks, there is an essay up on the screen and he sees the word “Columbia” pop out on the screen. 

My current aspiration to obtain “it” is the fact that I have to provide for the people I love.  While I'm at “it,” I have to be the best at doing so.  Columbia would only set the foundation for the rest of my life together with the person who never gave up on me, and saw me through until I was better.  Now, because of him, I can be the best.

Kurt sucks in a breath and lets it jump out, staggered and rich.  He prints out only that paragraph – his favorite paragraph in the history of all paragraphs – and cuts around the edges until it resembles a perfect rectangle.  He forms a circle with some Scotch tape and posts the piece of paper directly to a spindle on their headboard.  This passage of Blaine's written word will serve as a constant reminder to always be each other's “it.”

He messages Blaine's phone after reading the passage exactly five times.  He's fully aware that Blaine is in class, but it doesn't matter; he has to tell Blaine something very important.  He is smiling like a seven-year-old on Christmas morning. 

Kurt:  I fucking love you so much, seriously more than anyone or anything ever in my twenty-nine years.  You are “it” for me, Blaine Anderson.
Blaine:  What the fuck are you talking about, old man?
Kurt:  Found your essay to Columbia.  I love you, I'm so proud to be with you.  Come straight home, skip the Bean.  Need to kiss your beautiful face until it's dust on my carpet.

Blaine's response to Kurt is interrupted by a new alert from Cooper for only the twenty-fifth time since checking his phone last.

Cooper:  Blaine.
Blaine:  What the hell do you want?  I'm at school and you keep trying to reach me, and that's not fair to my edumucation.  Obviously, I'm busy.
Cooper:  Blaine.  Call me.  Now.  Pop-pop died.

xK&Bx

Blaine walks halfway home, in a numb trance, before he realizes he took Kurt's car to school today.  He texts his explanation to let Kurt know he fucked up and turns around to get the car.

He gets home a half hour after the text message goes through to Kurt and goes straight up to their bedroom without looking for his boyfriend first, as he usually does.  He opens the notebook that's been deemed the budgeting notebook and stares at the detailed lines of his own handwriting, broken down into several different scenarios.  Two nights ago, he figured they'd both have to work in order to make rent in a walk-up on York Avenue, and since Blaine would have to concentrate some on school, he would have time to look into a part-time job.  They'd have to share a small studio for at least the first few years, probably, and he estimated an apartment that would cost them about two grand a month after utilities.  They'd still have to furnish it, move their stuff, and figure out how to close down the Lima part of their lives.  Two nights ago, New York seemed like a lot of work to obtain, almost a pipe dream that they couldn't afford yet. 

He lets a tear drop onto the paper and he slams the notebook down hard, slapping it against the desk.  He belly flops onto the bed and groans, knowing full well that Kurt will find him in this state soon enough. 

“Bad day?”  Kurt comes in with two mugs of hot cocoa on a tray with several large (homemade!) marshmallows situated daintily on a doily. 

Blaine sits up and looks at him.  “The worst.”

Kurt creases his eyebrows, concerned.  His boyfriend is breaking.

“Oh honey, what happened?”  He slides the tray onto the desk and waits. 

“Nothing.  I mean, God.  I didn't really know him.”

“Blaine?”

“Cooper called.  He said my grandpa died.”

Kurt sucks in his breath and launches himself at Blaine, wrapping his arms fiercely around his shoulders, bending his fingers to dig into the blades.  He never heard anything about Blaine's grandpa, but a dead family member is a dead family member.

Blaine unlatches and allows the tears to flow freely and without care.  They spend the night locked away in their bedroom, spooning each other, speaking to Cooper and arranging a quick trip to check in, hardly speaking to each other.  They fall asleep early in the evening after two Harry Potter movies, tangled up in one another, never planning to let go.

xK&Bx

Blaine wakes a full thirteen hours after falling asleep.  He stretches his arms, intertwining his fingers of both hands, and yawns largely and with power.  “Kurt?”   Kurt is the first thought on Blaine's brain, always, and the last one each night before sinking into a deep sleep.

“Morning.”  Kurt enters the room from the bathroom, rubbing a towel against his hair with another towel lying low around his hips.  “Cooper gets in at one, right?  I'll leave here in like a half hour.”

“Sorry I can't come with you.” 

Kurt lifts his arm and ruffles his boyfriend's hair before leaning into his body for a hug.  “It's good that you go help my dad, keep your mind off of things?”

Blaine allows his head to sink down on Kurt's sharp shoulder.  “Thanks for getting him.”

“You're going to be okay, right?”  Kurt squeezes him tighter, bears all of Blaine's weight to be supported by his chest.

Blaine pulls back, shrugs, and heads toward the bathroom.  He really needs to relieve himself and brush the disgusting morning breath out of his mouth.  “It's fine, pretty boy.  Stop worrying about me.  I'm good.  We… just, I hadn't seen him in a while.”

Kurt watches him disappear into the bathroom and sighs.  He gets ready to retrieve Cooper from the airport in Columbus.  As discussed, he's expected in soon from Los Angeles, insisting he needs to visit with Blaine to make sure he's okay.

Of course, the door is always open for Blaine's brother without question.  Kurt and Cooper are the same age and although they didn't go to high school together, they know each other thanks to the show choir circuit.  Over Christmas, Kurt recalls Cooper's confession that Dalton was trying to recruit Kurt to transfer for the sake of their hopes for a champion Glee Club, and they really needed a countertenor to balance out the six-piece harmony.  Kurt remembers being McKinley High's secret weapon for competition season, aside from the obvious viewer's choice – Rachel Berry. 

His mind wanders to the words he exchanged with Rachel a few days ago.  He's happy for her; she seems to always get everything she ever wishes for, but at what cost?  Kurt makes a mental note to call her soon and apologize.  For what, he's not sure yet.  It's just how their dynamic works.

Kurt's mind goes from Rachel's unpromising friendship to that scenario of “what if I transferred to Dalton when I almost did?”  He frequently wonders what the rest of his life would have been like if he had transferred to Dalton, become friends with Cooper Anderson, dropped Rachel Berry, and met Blaine when he was still a little boy as a result.  Just the thought makes Kurt shiver.

It doesn't matter, not really.  He knows Blaine now and that's the end of it, right?  He dresses and heads downstairs to make some coffee.  He rummages through the fridge and decides on French toast, coated in syrup, to cheer Blaine.  It's Saturday morning and Burt's already gone to the shop leaving a note behind for Blaine to come in whenever (they're slow today) and Carole's on a double, working almost the entirety of the weekend.  They're left alone to play house like they used to before home was defaced and ruined and cursed for the rest of their time.

Blaine comes downstairs shortly after and pours himself a mug of coffee, mixing it to perfection as usual.  He turns to Kurt, watching him through the routine of buttering the pan and dipping the bread into the egg-milk-cinnamon mixture.

“You're so pretty.”  He takes a sip of his coffee and sidesteps closer to Kurt, leaning with his back to the sink, situated conveniently next to the stove.  He places his mug on the counter and takes both of Kurt's cheeks with each hand and presses a sloppy kiss directly lined up on older lips.  “Will you be able to handle four hours in the car today with your leg?  I can call Santana to go get him if you'd rather stay home and rest.  Or he can just rent a car?”  These are the things he thinks about in the shower.

Kurt looks over to him and smiles mischievously.  He searches for the much deeper voice he's been practicing to mock Blaine.  “It's fine, pretty boy.  Stop worrying about me.”

Blaine's jaw drops.  “Oh my God.”  He laughs, eyes crinkling so tight and his mouth swinging open, throat producing the happiest of sounds.  He looks at Kurt and can't help but laugh again.

Kurt raises an eyebrow, unable to hide his smile.  “Would you get plates, please?”  He flips the thick slices of French toast and stares a hole through the sizzle. 

Blaine does what he's told.  “You know what I love about you?”  He extends onto his tippy-toes and fetches two plates, grabs two glasses, and crosses the kitchen to the fridge for the orange juice. 

“Oh!  My favorite conversation:  Things Blaine loves about Kurt.”

Blaine tilts his head, exuberated with love for the man always teasing, always happy to stand with him. “You always, without fail, affect me.  I can't not react, and it always feels like, almost like too much.  Like I could never possibly love someone else the way I love you.”

Kurt gives him a look, consciously turning his face upside down and into a pout.  “Well, that's the plan isn't it?”

Blaine laughs.   “Shut up!  It is.  Listen, I mean okay...”  He rolls his eyes.  “It's sort of been like no time at all, if you really step back and think about it.  But the way you look at me affects how I feel.  I'm still getting these butterflies in my stomach; you still make me blush like forty times a day.  Like every time we say even one word to each other, I fall deeper.  It feels more intense than maybe what I'm supposed to feel in high school and it kinda freaks me out.  You are… the love of my life, Kurt, and I think you had all that bad luck in your past relationships because none of them were as right as we are.  And if we are ever thinking of breaking up in the future, I think we should remember this conversation.  Because no one after you will ever affect me the same way you do.  And I hope I, you.”

“Oh, barf.  Your romance is straight out of The Notebook.”

Blaine's face falls.  “I'm being seriously romantic and you're puking all over me.”

“I'm teasing you, baby.  I've been waiting for you all my life, you know that.  And you're so lucky to have found this early.  I assume I make your awkward teenage years better for you, yeah?”  He bumps Blaine's hip so he moves out of the way and Kurt quickly rinses his hands.  When his hands are de-eggified, it's not clear who leans in first, but they kiss passionately and forcefully nonetheless.  They kiss, nearly spilling the orange juice and almost setting Kurt's sleeve on fire from the gas flames extracting from the stovetop.

“Umm, so to conclude with the lesson of the day, never make out over a gas stove.”

Blaine rolls his eyes and ignores Kurt's wise advice.  “Never leave me, pretty boy?”  He holds up his pinky and Kurt takes it with his own.

“Never, ever.”  He kisses their pinkies and goes to plate their breakfast. 

xK&Bx

The drive is a boring one with no Blaine to keep him distracted from his thoughts.  He decides to take the back roads down to Columbus, furtively driving through Westerville on the way to see if it has the same dark feeling Blaine seems to carry around with him just for the mention of his hometown.  When it doesn't, Kurt's a bit disappointed but continues on to the airport, trying to think up an excuse to have driven through Westerville in the first place.  He takes his time driving into Columbus, knowing he's rather early.  He finds the cell phone lot directly outside of the airport and he waits.  He waits and he looks around for something exciting to happen outside his window, then he waits some more when nothing does. 

Kurt:  Hey, I'm in the cell phone lot when you land.  Let me know and I'll circle around.  Looking forward to seeing you!

He reclines his seat halfway and closes his eyes.  He can't help but think of New York, and Blaine, and what if he knew Blaine before he went to New York the first time?  This is the second time he's thinking of an alternate scenario when it comes to Blaine today, and that in itself worries him.  He would not have fallen in love with a seven-year-old.  His entire life would have been different, and he probably wouldn't have allowed himself to fall in love with Cooper's baby brother had he known him since he was little.  He shudders again at the thought.  Blaine's right though, he can't control how old he is.  Kurt's happy he's found Blaine at all.

He's happy that he can have the best of both worlds – Blaine as his boyfriend and Cooper as a newly found close friend.  Kurt doesn't have a lot of people to call his friend, and he's happy to have both Andersons on that list.

Kurt:  Hey babe.  I'm waiting for Coop's flight to land in the cellphone lot.  Miss you so much, it's pathetic.

For the first time in Kurt's life, he's grateful for sticking it out with the bullies of McKinley High.  He stares out into the parking lot and taps his cell phone to his mouth repetitively while he thinks about it all, and how much it scares him to think that there was ever a possibility to live life without Blaine Anderson.  They are both so lucky to have found each other.

Cooper:  Hey bro.  Just landed, no checked bags.  I'll be outside of Terminal C in like five minutes… thanks.

Kurt throws the seat into an appropriate position, flicks the car back on, and pulls out into traffic.  He follows the confusing airport signs to the JetBlue terminal all the way on the other side of the airport.

The reason for Cooper's visit is to apparently give Blaine something and make sure he's okay.  But Kurt knows that Cooper knows that as long as Kurt's around, Blaine will be okay.  So really, the only reason he's in town now is for the good of the something to be given. 

Kurt's concerned that it's something to open the dam of feelings about Blaine's family, but whatever it is, Cooper is adamant to give it to him in person. 

He spots Cooper from a mile away; he sticks out like a sore thumb.  Kurt firmly believes that neither Anderson boy ever belonged in Ohio to begin with, but God, they wound up here anyway. 

Kurt throws the shift stick into “park,” hops out of the car, and flings the trunk open for Cooper's carry-on.  Blaine's brother throws his luggage into the car carelessly and pulls Kurt into a tight, brotherly hug. 

“Hey man!  Thanks for coming to get me.  Blainers says I'm supposed to ask you if you're sure that your leg is fine and if you want me to drive us home.”

Kurt laughs.  “Tell Blainers that ‘I'm fine, pretty boy, and stop worrying.'”  They climb into the car and Kurt starts to drive again when Cooper situates himself.

“Like, I should text exactly those words?”

Kurt laughs.  “Yes.”

“I don't even want to know.”

“He's just always fucking worrying about me!  It's usually endearing, but I'm fine.”

The ride goes smoothly; it's early afternoon cruising west on Route 33, and there's hardly any traffic for a Saturday.  They engage in small talk, the conversation slowly getting heavier right around the time they pass the Westerville exit, of course.

There's an awkward silence; Kurt's tapping his thumb to the steering wheel to the tune of the new Fitz and the Tandrums song on the radio. 

“You sure Blaine's okay?”

Kurt looks at Cooper, concerned and unsure what to really say.  “I think so.  There are times where he looks distracted behind his eyes, like he's thinking really loudly and I still can't hear it, but I think that's normal for eighteen, isn't it?”

“I don't know.  I forget what I had for breakfast, let alone what I felt like on a daily basis eleven years ago.”

Kurt laughs.  “I've had to be in touch with teenage feelings for almost a year now.”

“Your choice, bro.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Seriously, though Coop… I never had a choice with him.”

“Is that some romantic pun concerning my baby bro?”

“Even if I had a choice, I'd still choose him.  He's it for me.”  Kurt shrugs.  “Sorry, this whole thing must be really weird for you.”

“Maybe sometimes, when I really think about it.”  Cooper looks at him and shudders over-dramatically, laughing harder when Kurt shudders back. “But I have never heard the happiness in his voice the way I do now.  And I bet it's even weirder to him that his boyfriend and his much older, better looking brother graduated high school the same exact year.”  There's an awkward pause.  Cooper takes the opportunity to continue.  “Our parents are really shitty, Kurt.  You know that as much as we do.  For him to have some positive relationship in his life… it doesn't matter if you're eighty.  As long as he loves you, is the way I see it.”  He shrugs.

Kurt blinks rapidly to hold back the tears.  He's known that Blaine's gone through some of the toughest shit any kid has ever had to go through since the day Blaine came stumbling sloppily into the Lima Bean, bruised and broken and alone.  He was a small and desperately weak little boy without any glimmer of hope.  He didn't belong anywhere, and Kurt knew that, even then.  As each incident came and went, and finally after the grand attack to end them all, Kurt's brain finally clicked into place – this is not a situation to be taken lightly, and Blaine has been left deeply scarred by everything that has occurred.  Kurt now fully understands the level of just how shitty Blaine's had it, and how he'll never really be one-hundred percent fixed from it.  Blaine's damaged goods, and that makes Kurt fall even deeper.  Kurt thrives on being willing and able to help.

“What do you need to give him?”  Kurt's nervous that it'll be something that Blaine won't be able to recover from.

Cooper stares out the windshield.  “A check.  Inheritance.”

Kurt sighs.  He figured it was something like this. “I think he's really upset that he missed the funeral.  He won't admit it, but… not that he missed it, because I'll bet he wouldn't have went anyway.  But the fact that he couldn't have the choice to show up or not because of his probation.”

“I can tell he's upset about that. For the record, it was a shit show.  My mother…”

“I kind of figured it would be.  I mean, no offense.  I just…”

They are quiet the rest of the ride toward Lima.  Instead of heading to the house, though, Kurt pulls into the tire shop.  “I think everybody's here.”

“Kurt?”  Cooper questions his name before saying anything of importance, just like Blaine does.

“Yeah, Coop.”  He turns to face Blaine's brother and rests his hands on the middle console.

“I'm really sorry for what my father did to you, did to Blaine.”

“Hey!  It's not your fault.  It happened, I'm better.  Your brother is stronger from it.  And honestly?  I think it only happened to get him away from Blaine.  It had to happen to ensure his safety, right?  I'd happily go through all of that again to keep that man away from him.  Can't break his son's ribs from jail, right?”

“Right.”  Cooper nods and smiles.  He's counting down the days until the wedding. “You're right.”

Ever since the attack, Cooper has been checking up on Kurt by calling and texting during the day, but never when Blaine could possibly be around.  They've developed this weird friendship that's only taken a new level because of a crushed tibia.  They both recognize that they probably would have been friends with or without Blaine around.  Kurt's comfortable with Cooper, he can tell him a lot of things and feel like he's not going to repeat it dishonestly.  Cooper's officially been added to the short list of Kurt's friends, and it feels good to look to him as family, too.  Cooper has been his confidant on all things Blaine since Christmas.  With all the stealth in the world, Coop palmed his business card (complete with full-color headshot bleeding through the back side) and they've been texting ever since.  It's nice to have someone else to be himself around, even if they've only officially met twice.

“Please don't feel guilty about any of it, Coop.  It happened for a reason and I'm confident that reason was so he didn't eventually kill Blaine.  I'm just happy I could save him like that.”

Jumping out of the car and crossing the parking lot to enter the garage, Kurt sees Blaine right away, leaned over into the hood of a Honda Civic.  He dings the bell twice at the front counter so Blaine looks up.  Immediately doing so, Blaine's face lights up and he wipes his hands on his jeans to rid them of grease and motor oil.  Kurt makes his way over and kisses him quickly, wiping off the oil from his nose, then wiping his finger on Blaine's jeans. Cooper is on his heels and halting when the kiss gets heated.

“Stop making out in my shop.  Hey, son.”  Burt slaps Cooper's shoulder and continues onto the mishaps of the Ford pickup in the corner. 

“We weren't, Dad!  Ugh.”  Kurt rolls his eyes.  He mumbles, “Making out requires tongues.  You'd think a grown man would know how to fucking kiss.”

Blaine steps back and smiles, looking at his shoes.  “I'm almost done here.  Then we can go?” He magnetically allows his fingertips to graze at Kurt's forearm that's been self-consciously crossed over his chest. “Hey Coop.”

“We'll wait over here.”  Cooper smiles at his little brother and shoves at his shoulder, setting him back just a hair. 

Kurt and Cooper wait for Blaine in Burt's office, Kurt twirling in circles on the chair and reminiscing with Cooper about high school. 

Every so often, Blaine can hear Cooper cackling or the melodic sound of Kurt's giggle.  He rushes through the rest of the Civic's service and slams the hood down.  He pulls the car out into the parking lot and shifts it into a spot to wait for its owner.  He runs back into the office to the duo of new buddies.

“So I've decided…”

Cooper and Kurt look up to Blaine, who's now standing before them, crossed arms and frowning face.

Blaine continues.  “I don't think you guys are allowed to be friends.  It's disturbing and really fucking weird.”

“It's weird that you prefer old guys, baby bro.”  Cooper shoots back.  “Told you he was freaked out about it, Kurt.”

Kurt laughs and shakes his head. “I'm not old…”

“Excuse you.  I don't prefer old guys.  Just this one.”

“Uh!  I am not even thirty.”

“Yeah, and I'm not even twenty.  Pretty boy.”  Blaine grins and winks at his boyfriend, offering his hand to pull him up out of the chair.

“Oh my God.  Can we go?  Bye Dad!”

“See you guys!” 

They exit the garage and make their way across the parking lot to Kurt's car.  Cooper yanks his brother away from Kurt and throws an arm around his shoulders.

“When do you leave?” Blaine looks up at him.  It figures that he got all the height genes and Blaine was left with next to nothing.

“Uh, Tuesday morning.”

Blaine nods and jumps up into the car.  The old men follow suit and they go home, making small talk and listening to Blaine complain about the crazy lady with the Civic all the way back.  The bitch actually screamed at Blaine because… who cares?  Blaine hates Ohio.  Cooper and Kurt agree.

Kurt opens the front door and lets them in.  He smiles at them and makes himself scarce, disappearing for the sake of the inevitable talk about grandfathers and family members and trying not to get upset over it all.  He climbs the stairs and presses “play” on his laptop, running through some paperwork for the coffee shop that he's been trying to catch up on for days.

Meanwhile, Cooper catches Blaine's eye.  “Okay, look bro.  I'm just going to get this over with because it's why I'm here.” 

Blaine sighs and looks away from him, still in the foyer.  He starts moving to the kitchen.  “Are you hungry or anything?”

“Blaine, listen to me.  Grandpa left you money.”

“I don't care, Coop.  I figured he would and then I remembered I'm gay and… I just don't really care.  How much did you get for being straight?”

“I'm openly ignoring your self-deprecation.  You know he didn't care about your orientation.  He even told me he wanted you to come move to LA once he found out about Dad.”

Blaine scoffs.  “I would have known if he ever fucking told me that.  He could have called, you know.  And for the record, I would have never went to live with him, Cooper.”

“I told him that you wouldn't have wanted to leave Kurt.”  This is Cooper's way of making sure it was clear that his grandpa knew about his boyfriend and didn't care that he had one.

“B, he gave you the condo in New York.  I'm only here to make sure you're okay after… well, after everything and to help you go through the motions of getting everything that was left to you.  This is a good thing.”

Blaine is wide-eyed and staring at his brother.  He can't believe any of the words spilling out of Cooper's mouth.  “Um… okay?  The condo?  Where is the condo?”

“Upper West Side, and I have the number for a local lawyer that will come to you to deliver the inheritance check.  It's a big amount so I really want to take care of this now.  Do you even have a checking account?  And I want Kurt to help you with investing most of it.  Honestly, if you find a good high-interest account, you could live off of only interest for a long time, B.”

Cooper digs a ripped piece of paper out of his pocket.  The amount is easier to read than to be heard.  Blaine takes it and looks at it.  7.5 million dollars.  “Kurt?  I need you.”  He rushes to the bottom of the stairs and hollers upward.  “Kurt, now!”

“What's wrong, B?”  Kurt lingers at the doorway to their bedroom and looks down the stairs.  He notices Blaine's wretched, nervous face and shifty eyes, his dancing feet and his hand carding through his hair with nerves.  “Honey?  What happened?”  He makes it to the bottom of the stairs and places his hand at Blaine's hipbone. 

Cooper finds his way behind Blaine and sighs, leaning up against the wall with folded arms, glancing at them from the side of his eye.  Kurt looks at him then back to Blaine, who's shoving the haggard piece of paper into his hands.

He looks down at it, revealing only the number. “7.5MM.”  Kurt stares for a few seconds until it clicks.  It's this moment he thinks he may need to physically re-lodge his eyeballs back to their sockets.

“Oh my actual…”

“Kurt, do you remember how in my essay I wrote that I wanted to provide for the people I love and that you saved me because you never gave up, and all of that?”

“You are still going to college, Blaine.  I don't care how many millions you have.”  Oh my God, I've become my father. 

Blaine allows himself to crack up without caring.  “Pretty, shut up!  I know, of course I know that.  Just listen, okay?  I can provide for you, for real.  We can get out of here and we can just… we can actually do this for real, Kurt.”

“We were already doing it for real.”

“Can you just… be here when I call this lawyer dude?  Cooper says that you need to help me invest it or something, so we can live off of the interest or whatever.  I don't really know what that means, but it's good right?”

“Blainers, you're forgetting the best part.”  Cooper makes his presence known to Blaine, speaking up to remind him to tell Kurt about the added bonus.

“What?  Oh!  I um, found us a place to live in New York.”

“I'm sorry, what?”

“It's on 70th Street and Broadway.  Doorman building, two story condo with three bedrooms and a gym, laundry in the apartment, and two offices or play rooms or family rooms, whatever you guys want to make them into.”  Cooper chimes in and takes two sets of keys out of his pocket, slipping them into Blaine's hand.  He instinctively makes a fist around them and looks helplessly to Kurt. 

“Say something, Kurt.”

“Your grandfather left you his New York apartment and 7.5 million dollars.”  Kurt blinks and sits on the third-to-bottom stair, unfolding his bad leg out of habit and spreading his legs wide, in more of a stretch for his hips.

“There's more.”  Cooper hands Blaine another folded-up piece of loose-leaf paper.  It's crinkled and worn at each fold, like several people have read it and made it small again and again, over and over.  Blaine looks down to Kurt and then unfolds the piece of paper, sitting between Kurt's legs as he reads.  Kurt takes the opportunity to rub at Blaine's shoulders, relaxing him and making it clear that he's there.

Blaine,

I haven't told a soul I have cancer.  I just got home from my appointment with the oncologist a few minutes ago, where the doctor just informed me that I have roughly a month left of my life.  I'm having the lawyer update my will in the morning so that I can make sure you are taken care of.  I know things have been strained between us, my boy, and for that I'm deeply sorry to leave you before we had time to reconcile.  Before I go, I want to make it right the only way I know how.  Our distant relationship has never had anything to do with your sexual orientation.  I am proud of you.  You are a good boy.  Cooper tells me there is someone very special in your life.  I would have loved to meet him, but it was not in my stars this lifetime.  I'm leaving you the apartment in New York and some spending money. I know you were recently accepted into Columbia.  Make a life there with your boy, Blaine.  You do with it all how you please, and if that means spending the whole thing on the man you love, then go crazy, my boy.  Please, I ask you to consider putting some away and use some to fund your college bill.  Put two hundred thousand in a trust fund for a baby you don't have yet.  By the time they are ready for it, it will be more than enough.  And boy, you stay happy, and you dream big and so many great things will come to you. It sounds like some of them already have. I didn't say it enough, and it's my biggest regret, Blaine.  I love you. You are the strongest, most grown-up, mature boy I know and you have to keep on keeping on.  Your father is going to Hell for what he did to you; always remember that.  Don't be sad I'm gone, you hardly knew me.  But I knew you enough, and I love you to the moon and back, my sweet boy.  Be wise with it all.  Make a life for yourself in New York, as I did.  I love you.

Always,

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