Chapter 23

Authors Note: Surprise! Hey guys. Im posting this chapter today instead of tomorrow so I can post 24 and the epilogue tomorrow. Wanted to take a quick moment and reiterate to each and every one of you how much I appreciate all of your kind words and reviews. Youre really whats making this so whole thing enjoyable, and I love seeing all of your reactions so much! There is a sequel on its way, I promise... but its not on TATIAs coat tails at all. Im just finishing the first draft and then the editing process is a little crazy for me. Im hoping to start posting before I turn 27 (June 22nd!) but no promises. More details about that on my Tumblr! Follow me over there for all the crazy updates and how much the sequel is killing me, among other delicious Klaine-related things. I love you all!!!! xo- Nikkie

How terrible it is to love something that death can touch. 

The days blend closer together and Blaine has yet to determine the reasoning behind his sincere mourning.  He hardly knew his grandfather, last seeing him when he was fifteen and even that visit was short and awkward.  They didn't speak, proving that they'd both be fine without the other.  And yet, Blaine is depressed and genuinely at a loss whenever he really thinks about the fact that his grandfather simply does not exist anymore.

He carries the letter with him everywhere now.  It's a constant reminder that someone in his family approves (or once did) of his lifestyle and approves of Kurt.  Blaine realizes that this letter is the only proof in his life that can represent unconditional love.  It's not much, a measly piece of college-ruled loose leaf with the holes torn out of a binder, but it's something.  It's all he needs to know that at least his grandfather wasn't a homophobic asshole, as his father is.

It's also a reminder that in a blink of an eye, anything can happen to anyone in Blaine's life.  Every time his hand grazes the worn piece of paper in his pocket, it serves as a sincere indication that Kurt or Cooper or Burt or Carole or Santana or Julie or Austin could just… die with no explanation and then they won't be here anymore.  He thinks of Finn and Mrs. Hummel and how they were both someone to Kurt once, and now they're gone.  Blaine undergoes a revelation when he decides to carry the letter everywhere.  It is to live as fully as possible, no cutbacks, because one day you could disappear, never to be seen alive again.

He's never been more ready to run away with his Kurt and spend their lives together.  They need to start living, and this is really just the beginning.

xK&Bx

Blaine's breath catches in his throat.  He's thinking about losing Kurt again, and it's absolutely fucking terrifying.  His life almost seems like it's too good to be true, at least in the realm of Kurt, and that's precisely why he is concerned that something else terrible is going to happen soon.

He lies back on the mattress, folding his arms up and under the back of his head, staring at the stucco ceiling.  He ponders how he's gotten here, lying in Kurt's bed, waiting for him to get ready so they can go to a court hearing and try to convince whoever necessary that he's done nothing wrong in so long and he deserves to be free.  He's lying here, emotionally and physically involved with a serious boyfriend of nearly a year, eleven years his senior, and in deeper than he would have ever imagined.

A year ago, Blaine hardly loved himself.  He was a lost soul who didn't care enough to give even one fuck.  Between then and now, Blaine's noticed that he is officially a changed man.  And it's all because of his knight in shining armor, the only one person who could ever truly show Blaine that he is worth so much more than manila folders full of bad shit he's done and heavy ankle monitors and probation officers.

If all goes according to plan today, Kurt and Blaine will leave Lima together in twenty days.  Blaine's anxious; he'll start at Columbia in one month to the day, but he could potentially be bringing Kurt straight into the path of a sexy New Yorker his own age who's already established and knows what he's doing with his life. 

Just in case all systems are a go, and even if they're not, Blaine has kept busy by choosing and working with a financial advisor located in the city close to the condo.  He has split up his money in a livable series of high-interest accounts, and is set to start his monthly deposits of interest straight into his checking account.  With no mortgage and virtually no expenses except the day-to-day, Blaine can easily support both Kurt and himself on the monthly interest payments.  It's a huge pressure off of his shoulders; he was nervous about having to find a job.  He just wants to concentrate on school and Kurt.  It's funny how things are working out; how everything is being lined up as though it was meant to be all along.  Except one tiny detail.

The enrollment process into classes at Columbia is going smoothly.  He needs to email his advisor with class choices and he's all paid up with registration costs.  It's official according to everyone except Blaine, anxious that this is the one detail to stop his plans of New York and Columbia and Kurt and being happy in a place that accepts him.  It's either he stays here with a GPS attached to him for the next year of his sentence, or he goes to New York and never looks back, with his beautiful boyfriend and his easy life.  He already knows what he wants to do; it's what he'll be allowed to do that is really the question. 

In setting up their New York life, the high-interest-bearing accounts, shopping for college and the apartment furnishings, and phone calls with his financial advisor, there is no time to get nervous or anxious for the hearing with the judge.  Blaine has been invested in all of this “adult play,” as Kurt teases, and now that he finally has time to think about how important of a stance this one meeting has on the rest of his immediate life, he is shaking with nerves and startles when there's a ding and a vibration to his phone. He bends to check the message he's received.

Santana:  Big day today.  You ready?  Can I drive you?
Blaine:  Kurt's getting ready now.  We'll see you over there?
Santana:  Yep.  I know you're nervous but you don't have to be. You'll do fine.
Blaine:  Thanks, Striptease.  J

“Kurt?  I think we should go soon, if you still want to come?”

“I'm ready when you are, babe.”

Gasping a sigh of relief, Blaine is bewildered by how much support is handed to him on a silver platter lately, and from virtually everyone around him.  “Okay, good.”  Blaine takes the suit jacket that's draped over the chair and shrugs it on.  His fingers are unsteady as he attempts to button each.  He looks down and notices they are crooked.  Whatever, no one will notice.

Kurt enters the room and catcalls, whistling like he doesn't care who hears it.

“From now on, you're only allowed to wear suits.”  Kurt's eyes rake him over as he helps Blaine straighten his bowtie, smooth out his lapels, correct the buttoning fiasco.  He steps backward to take in the full sight. 

“Hottie with a body.”

Blaine smiles.  “Stop.  You're sure this is okay?  I mean, for court.”

“It's perfect, you're perfect.”  Kurt pulls at the sleeves so they don't wrinkle.  “Are you nervous?”

“So nervous.”

“Don't be.  You've been so good.”

“Love you, pretty.”

“I know you do.  Love you too.  Santana's meeting us?”

Blaine doesn't make a move to leave.  Instead, he steps backward until his calves hit the mattress, forcing him to bend and sit.  “Yeah.  This is weird.”

Kurt sits down on the edge of their bed next to him and connects his hand to Blaine's knee.  “I'd assume that's a natural feeling for people in your position.”

“He'd do anything he could to keep me locked up, you know.”

Kurt knows exactly who Blaine is talking about; he sighs.

“That doesn't matter because you have cities to live in and Ivy League schools to go to and boyfriends to love, right?”  Kurt smiles at him and tilts his head.  “You can't be tied down to this place at his disposal.  Which is why it's a good thing he won't be there, and he's the one locked up, right?  Come here, babe.”  He pats his lap.

Blaine straddles his lap, facing him, each knee rubbing against Kurt's hips. 

“Listen to me, Blaine.  You've been on your best behavior lately.  There's nothing they can hold against you without irrational influence.  If Santana is giving you this chance to stand in front of the judge and have them review the last few months of your life, then she must think you have a pretty good shot of being okay in the end.  You've been good, Blaine.  Not flawless, not perfect, but what person is? There's been no real trouble at all, and Santana's job is to get you out of the system.  She wouldn't just play roulette with your life… and mainly because I would personally beat her down and stop hanging out with her and I'm really her only friend, but also because you're an indication of how well she's done with her job.  And she's your friend too, she cares about you almost as much as I do.”  He smiles and looks deeper into Blaine's eyes to make sure he truly understands the next sentence out of his mouth.  “I am so proud of you, B.  Regardless of what happens today, you'll still have me and we'll figure it out, whatever it is.  Right?”

“It is kind of what we do.”

“Mmhmm.  It is kind of what we do.  So.”  A kiss. “Stop.” A kiss.  “Worrying.”

“Oh.”  A kiss. “Kay.” A kiss and a grin.  Blaine jumps up to release Kurt from the bed and holds out a hand.  “Now or never.  I'm still nervous as fuck and there's not a damn thing you can do about it, pretty boy.”

xK&Bx

“Docket number 13456234.  Blaine Anderson.”

Oh, Jesus.  Anderson, as in Christian's kid?  This is just what I need.  Some little faggot who couldn't keep his thoughts to himself and just wanted the stupid love and support of his mommy and daddy.  This kid right here is why I don't have Christian anymore and as far as I'm concerned, he can go fuck himself on a wooden pole.

Kurt squeezes his hand and lets go as Blaine rises and approaches a small fold-out table situated in front of the judge.

“How are you, Blaine?”  The judge eerily resembles Judge Judy herself, with an eighties haircut and very thin eyeglasses.  She is looking at a manila folder, through paper copies of every incident he's been involved in since the ripe age of fourteen.  There are things in that folder that Kurt doesn't even know, unless Santana has broken the client non-disclosure clause, and that makes him sweat a little more profusely than normal.  Blaine heedlessly swipes his fingertips under his armpit where he finds a small puddle of a stain.  He's so nervous, shaking and anxious that this conversation will be the one that ruins his life, his goals, and his dream of Columbia University.

“I'm fine, ma'am.  Thank you for taking the time to see me this morning.”

Obviously, this little shit has had training from someone who told him to be polite to me.  I'm the one who could make or break his entire life.  Fucking Dalton.

“Your file says you've been in school since nearly the beginning of the year with a few detentions.  Nothing we can't handle, correct, Blaine?”

“Yes, Your Honor.  There have been a few… misunderstandings between some of my classmates and myself, if I'm being honest, but it's nothing I can't handle.  I try to keep to myself as much as possible, and just get through it until graduation.”  He flashes an adolescent's smile.  Old people love me.

“Well, we'll see about that.  And how's your job?  It says you are employed at the Lima Bean on Main.  You're still regularly scheduled, I take it?”

“Yes, ma'am.  I brought my boss here to attest to that if you'd prefer.”  He looks back in Kurt's direction and smiles at him.

“No need, thank you, Blaine.  His support here alone shows that you are a valued employee.  Are you graduating on time?”

“As far as I know.  I worked really hard during the first few months to catch up on what I missed since I started late.”  He smiles again.  “I actually got accepted to a college in New York.  It's the only one I applied to.”

“Congratulations.  Where?”

“Columbia.”

“Great school.  And you'll go for the fall?”

Blaine nods.  “Pending… your… decision, ma'am.”

“Your flirting with me is not swaying my decision, Mister Anderson.”

“I'm not-”

“What will you study?”

“Um, pre-law, ma'am.”

“You know, Blaine.  I was a part of Columbia's pre-law program.  Those were the hardest four years of my life, including my time with-”  She cuts herself off.  No need to tell Christian Anderson's son about her escapades with his father.  “I hardly survived it.”  Here goes nothing. “What does your father think about your recent accomplishments?”

“With all due respect, Your Honor, I don't care what my father thinks.  I have what you may call ‘daddy issues.'”

She scoffs.  That's the understatement of the year.  “A child should care what his father thinks, should he not, Mister Anderson?”

“I suppose so, but I'm not a child.  I guess I do care, on a subconscious level.  Also, if my father was more than just someone who degraded me at every opportunity, I may respect his opinion of me.  My father in particular, though-” Blaine is unexpectedly silenced by one Santana Lopez, click-clacking her stilettos in a determined rhythm all the way to the judge's bench.

“Your Honor, if I may.  My name is Santana Lopez.  I am Blaine Anderson's Parole Officer.”  She speaks in a hushed voice, too quiet for Blaine, Kurt, or anyone else in the courtroom to hear clearly. “Blaine's relationship with his father has always been tense, due to Christian Anderson's extremely high standards for his children.  There is no one that I've ever met in my entire life that could realistically live up to what he expected in Blaine.  But, with respect, his behavioral hearing in hopes to remove his tracking device no longer has anything to do with his father's involvement with his life.”

“And how are you sure that Blaine is not fabricating the story he tells you about his terrible father, Miss Lopez?  I know Christian Anderson very well, and he is not a violent man.”

Blaine scoffs and looks back at Kurt.  “He's not a violent man, Kurt.  Did you hear that load of bull-”

“Shut up, Blaine.”  Kurt whispers and gives him a pointed look.  “Stop.”  This is so not going well.  Fuck.

“I can assure you that he is not making it up, Your Honor.  His brother has the same stories down to the detail, and Blaine's partner was recently involved in a domestic violence and attempted murder case in which Blaine's father attacked them.  Which, as you may have heard, Mister Anderson Senior is currently serving a ten-year sentence for at Lucasville.”

“It sounds like Christian Anderson was Blaine's trigger to get in trouble in the first place.  Am I wrong in assuming that, Blaine?”

“No, ma'am.  You are not wrong in assuming that my father's issues started when I ca- when I was fourteen years old and I was fighting to feel as though he and my mother still loved me.”

“What happened when you were fourteen, Blaine?”  She knows.  She remembers finding Christian at her doorstep that very night after Blaine came out to his family.  He said he'd always figured that he might be, but that there's no way to love him after it's been confirmed, after he was beaten up at the dance he snuck out to, only to go with another boy.

The sweat dripping off of Blaine's nose multiplies as the words coming out of Judge Judy's mouth forms the one question he wishes to death that he did not have to answer.  Santana turns around and looks to Kurt, also shaking and freaking the fuck out, then to Blaine with a single nod.  This is an action to encourage him to “admit” to the Midwestern, Ohioan, Christian, Republican Judge who was obviously colleagues and at least friends with his father before he'd gone and had him sent to prison for attacking his boyfriend, that he is as gay as a double-edged sword with the head of a bright pink, glittery penis on each end. 

He looks back to Kurt, who mimics Santana's single nod and adds his own glittering encouragement of a gorgeous smile.

“When I was fourteen, I came out to my family.  I… am gay, Your Honor.”

“A gay boy who holds his own in the…” She counts. “Sixteen fights you've been in at school this year.”

Blaine breathes in deeply.  “Please don't stereotype me or the gay community, Your Honor… ma'am.  As limited as it is in Ohio, it still exists.  But yes, I did um, hold my own on many occasions.”  Blaine grits his teeth and takes a deep breath.  On the outside, he's calm and collected.  Inside, he's on fire.  This is not going well. 

“And if I've read the reports and Blaine's honest answers correctly, Mister Anderson Senior will have served his sentence in as little as seven and a half years.  If Blaine's trigger to get in trouble is the mishaps he's had with his father, what kind of guarantee can you offer me that he won't be back to his old ways when he's faced with Christian again?  Blaine, your boyfriend that was attacked by your father, is he still your boyfriend?”

“Yes, ma'am.  He is.  But I'm not sure what this has-”

“Has he healed from the attack?”

“Um, yes.  Uhhh, I mean, at least physically.  We're still working through some… other issues, I guess.”

“Do you love this boy, Blaine?”

“I do.  More than my whole life.”  He sighs.  Just the thought of Kurt calms him.

Kurt is watching the judge carefully.  There is an ulterior motive to these questions, and as the conversation progresses, Kurt is more nervous as to what that is.  He's tuned in but can't figure it out.

“What's going to happen when you go to college in New York, Blaine?  Long distance relationships don't work very well at your age… stereotypically.”

“He's planning on moving to New York in the fall, as well, actually.  We're very excited to take our relationship to the next level and bring it to a place that is more accepting to our lifestyle.”  Blaine's confused as to why she wants to know all of these details about his relationship with Kurt, but continues his answers collectively. He hopes to anything that is holy that it will all end up alright in the end.

“Is your boyfriend here today, Blaine?”

Blaine's eyes go wide, launching into his protective state of mind.  He lies.  He'll always lie to keep Kurt safe.  “No.  He's-”

“Yes.”  Kurt squeaks, also seething from the unnecessary questioning that Santana seems to be unable to control.  She is standing there, flabbergasted by how the conversation has turned, speechless in how to defend either her client or her friend.  He'll deal with her later. 

The judge makes a gesture for Kurt to join Blaine, so he approaches the table that Blaine is standing at and grabs his hand.  He laces his fingers with Blaine's and looks at him with a small smile reserved for only him.

Blaine looks up at him and nearly chokes on his own saliva.  “You are totally making this even worse.  We're in Ohio, Kurt.”  He says in a whisper for only Kurt to hear.  Kurt squeezes his hand in response.  It's a squeeze to rectify.  It's a squeeze to say “don't worry, I'll save you.”

The judge blinks.  She is dumbfounded and has forgotten where she was going with her questioning, although it was only to fluster Christian Anderson's kid.  If she's being honest, she really misses being a lawyer and chooses to cross the gay kid that sent the only man she's ever loved to prison.  By law, she knows what she has to do at the end of this conversation.  Of course, she has to release him – he's done nothing to prove that he is harmful to the immediate community and there's no resourced proof or witnesses to show otherwise. Fights at school with fellow harmless teenagers are unfortunately not enough under the state of Ohio's wretched laws, and there's simply nothing further that she could control. 

“Are you aware that your boyfriend is also your boss, Mister Anderson?”

Blaine looks at Kurt then back to the judge.  What?  Holy crap, I had no idea!  He squeezes Kurt's hand fearfully and moans deep in his throat.  There is so much he wants to say to stand up for himself, but he can't find the words.

“It's okay, B.”  Kurt smiles at Blaine and turns back to the judge for himself.  “Your Honor, we were dating before I hired him to work for me.” Not true.  “He needed a job and it was convenient that I have my own business where I can help him obtain a position there.  The Lima Bean is always hiring and I was happy to help and get a dedicated employee out of the deal, too.”

“Well, of course you're not going to fire him especially knowing that he needs to hold a steady part-time job to be in good standing with his parole officer.”

“That is not necessarily true, Your Honor.”  Kurt speaks, as calm as he could be without showing the nerves penetrating out of his sweat glands.  He looks at Blaine, smiles to try to calm him, then looks back up toward the Judge.  “I made it very clear that while he was working, I am his boss and if he were to mess up in such a way that would deem him to get fired, I would not have hesitated.  The truth is, though, you may think I am biased but I can vouch for Blaine Anderson as both my employee and as a person I've grown to know and love for almost a year now.  We have been through the wringer as a couple and individually, and there is not one bad attribute I have seen in him yet.”  Kurt smiles at Blaine who is staring at him with wonderment in his eyes.  “I'll keep you updated if I ever find a flaw.”

The truth is that they never truly had that conversation about just how biased Kurt is when Blaine is late for work or not exactly doing what he's supposed to be at all times.  Of course, this stays outside of the judge's radar.

“And I trust there are no illegalities situated within the nature of your relationship, Mister…”

“Hummel.  Kurt Hummel.  No illegalities between Blaine and myself, Your Honor.  You are correct.”

Shit.  I thought for sure they had to have been dating since before Blaine was legal.  Not that I can even bring that up without being suspicious at this point, anyway.  I give up. 

“Alright.  Well, good luck with your endeavors in New York, then, boys.  Enjoy the city.”  She looks up from his file.  “Effective immediately, Blaine Anderson's probation has been lifted on the grounds of good behavior and the opportunity to live his dreams in Manhattan.  Thank you, Blaine.”

“Thank you!”  He bows awkwardly and rushes back to the empty row of seats that they occupied earlier. 

“We are having a quick training session on how to stand up for your client next time, Lopez.”  Kurt gives her a pointed look.  “What the hell was that?  Silence when he absolutely needed you, San!”

Santana sighs and watches him as he walks past her and sits next to Blaine, patting his knee. 

“You are amazing.”  Kurt whispers, but continues to look ahead.  If he doesn't look at his lips, he won't want to kiss them.

Blaine coughs.  “I thought she was going to lock me up for the rest of my life.  I love you, pretty.  Thanks for saving me.  Again.” 

After the results of several other cases are announced, a police officer is assigned to remove Blaine's anklet.  The trio is led to a small room down the hall from the row of courtrooms, where they sit patiently while the cop sneaks out to retrieve the device used to remove it.

“I can't even believe this.  I seriously had visions of rotting away in a cell next to my father.”

Santana and Kurt are holding hands because they know.  Santana speaks up.  “I'm sorry I didn't say anything.  I just couldn't believe… are we sure she didn't know your dad more than she was letting on?”

“Honestly, does it matter?  You guys literally… I would have never gotten this thing off without you.  You saved my life.  Thank you.”

“D'awwww, Blainers.  Come here!”  Santana tackles him into a hug and pulls Kurt in so they're all hugging each other tightly.  “Damn, what am I supposed to do without you two around here?”

Kurt backs away.  “Funny you should ask.  Do you make decent money babysitting delinquents?”

“Um, no.”

“How much do you make?”  Blaine wonders aloud.

“Thirty-two thousand dollars a year.  But you're my success story, so the food stamps are worth it.”  She winks and smiles.  “Why?”

“I'll double it for you to… maybe me and Kurt will open up a diner on Broadway or something and you can help manage it.  When you're ready to join us in New York, of course.”

Santana blinks.  “What?”

“Give us a few months to get settled and then we can do it the right way, this time.  You said it yourself like seven years ago, San.  There's nothing here for any of us except each other.  This place still reminds me of everything I've lost, and I know it does the same for you.  Hell, Rachel won't even come back here.  Why the hell did we?”  Kurt shrugs.

“Hey!  You just had to come back to get me!”  Blaine looks like he's about four years old with glistening eyes and a lit-up face.

“Are you kidding me, pretty boy?”  Santana waves Blaine down and is staring at the best fucking friend she's ever had.  Kurt stares back, smiles, and tilts his head. 

“You can't call him that, Santana!  That's mine!”  Blaine reaches out for him and pulls him in for another hug, although somewhat innocent.  They're in the courthouse after all.  “He's mine.”  He bites Kurt's lower lip quickly because he can't not.  “Mine, mine, mine.”

“Mine too.”

“Wanky.”  Santana grins.  “I'll think about it.  By think about it, I mean I'll think about when I can move.”

Kurt and Blaine grin toothy smiles directly at her face.

Blaine jumps back when the cop knocks on the door once and enters a second later. 

Folding his arms tightly across his chest, Kurt stands up straight against the wall with one boot holding it up.

“Sorry it took so long.”  The cop apologizes but he's not sincere.

Blaine approaches the cop and rolls his pant leg up over his ankle and smiles at Kurt.  It pops off with a cracking sound, the special screw flying across the room. The tan line, without even trying, is ridiculous.  Blaine flexes his ankle forward and back a few times, then rolls it in a counter-clockwise circle. The small amount of time it takes to remove the contraption is unbelievable, for being such a main part of him for a year already.

“I can't wait to take a shower without a grocery bag rubber banded to my leg.”

Santana stands, following the lead for Kurt and Blaine.  “That's all you look forward to?  How about going anywhere you want?  You never have to answer my check-in phone calls ever again!  I don't have to keep track of you!  I'm just as free as you are!”

“Whatever, Striptease.  You know you've grown to love me.” 

Kurt laughs and throws an arm around Blaine's shoulders.  Blaine stills for a millisecond but then folds at the elbow so he can hold Kurt's hand over his heart.

“I have.  I love you, Blainers.”

“Love you too, Satan.”  He grins and ducks out of Kurt's grip when she swings her purse at his crotch.  Santana grabs hold of him and they walk out of the courtroom intertwined in each other with Kurt close behind.  Blaine breaks away to slide down the banister and run toward the bench where he first met Santana that very first day almost a full year ago. 

“Oh, come on.  Let's reenact the whole thing for pretty boy.”  Santana preens.  “I'll be you.”  She sits on the far edge of the bench, slouching and scowling, pretending to smoke an invisible cigarette, sulking and looking around at all the idiots eating lunch on the other benches.

Blaine and Kurt double over with laughter. 

“Fuck you!  I did not look like that!”  Blaine sits on the exact opposite side of the bench straight and proper.  “Blah, blah, blah.  Go back to school and get a job, you're a loser, don't make me chase you.  I drew you a map.”

“You drew him a map?”  Kurt looks between the two, ignoring the obvious self-deprecation spewing out of Blaine's mouth.  “Oh my God.”

Santana nearly falls off the bench.  “Yes!  I didn't want this little asshole of a kid to get fucking confused as to where he was and wasn't allowed!  I did not want to get the phone call that he was in jail for disobeying.  Even though I still got one of those very shortly after, didn't I?  Did you guys realize Judge Judy over there didn't even mention that stint?  I don't think it's even in your folder.  I'll have you know that stuff requires a shit ton of paperwork.”

Blaine cackles.  “I was calling her Judge Judy in my head too.”

“B.  Let's go to lunch.  Anywhere you want.”  Kurt perks up.  They can go anywhere.

“Let's go to Thai Jasmine on South Pine!  That shit's, like, six whole miles from here.” 

The boys look at Santana and Blaine nods toward the parking lot.

“You guys go ahead.  You're still requiring me paperwork, Anderson.  Don't get in anymore trouble.”  Santana smiles.  It's really just an excuse for them to spend some time together; she knows they both need it.

“See you later, Santana.  Thanks again.”  He hugs her tight, picking her up and twirling her.  He kisses her cheek and waits for Kurt to say goodbye.

Kurt's goodbye is substantially tamer, just a simple hug will do.

Santana cuts through the grass back up into the courthouse, leaving the boys in her trails.

Blaine turns to Kurt and smiles at him.  “Hi.”

“Mmmm, come here a lot?”  Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine's neck and captures his bottom lip between his own.  He sucks gently and shifts to plant a full kiss onto his lips. 

Blaine opens his mouth slightly as an invitation and Kurt takes him the way he needs to be taken.  Kurt pushes himself closer to Blaine's body until they are touching at virtually every point and bend.  He pulls only his head away to look Blaine in the eyes.

Blaine tries to break away, only enabling Kurt to grasp tighter around his body.
“Pretty.  We're not in New York yet.  It's possible we're about to get shot or killed or worse.”  At Kurt's tightening grasp, Blaine takes a look around them wearily.  It doesn't seem like anyone's paying attention to their public displays of affection, but you never know what will set someone off in ass-backwards Lima, Ohio.

“I don't give a shit who knows that we are together.  God, B.  Stop sounding like me a year ago.  For what it's worth, while I have you captured and in my arms, I do need to reiterate how proud I am.  Of you.”

“Good, I do it for you.”  He smiles.  “Love you.”

“Mmmm, love you too.  So much.”

“It's so weird.”

“Me loving you?”  Kurt blinks, grinning like Blaine produced the sun.

Blaine finally breaks away.  He's just not comfortable latching onto Kurt.  Not here.  He starts walking, hoping that Kurt will follow.  “Everything's working out, somehow.  How is everything going right, Kurt?  I can genuinely say that nothing can stop us now, nothing will.  It didn't feel real until just now.”

“New York?”

Blaine stops walking when Kurt's not following.  He turns to his boyfriend and shrugs.  They're about twenty feet away from each other, the space being just enough for Ohio.  “Just everything.  You and the fact that you're still here.  The fact that we don't have to worry about money.  The fact that I'm even allowed to go to New York without my GPS and my parole officer documenting my every move.  More like I can go there if I want to.”  He approaches Kurt again and grazes his fingertips down Kurt's forearm, playing with his fingers and then dropping his hand.  He remains in front of him.  “And God, I want to, Kurt.  We can go anywhere you want.  I can't wait until we're there and somewhere else and everywhere.  I want everything with you, Kurt, and for the first time in my whole life, that's not scaring me at all.”

“B, you're so young.”

“Why prolong it, though?  I mean, I'm still going to want you when I'm… your age.”  His smile is evil.

Kurt tilts his head, his eyes bloodshot when his brain catches up to the words Blaine's just said.  “Wait, are you talking like… is this a fucking proposal right now?”

“No!”  Blaine laughs from his belly.  “I mean, eventually, of course, right?  As long as you still want me, you will get your ring.  I promise you, pretty.”  Blaine plays with Kurt's fingers and rubs at the spot between the second and third knuckles on his left ring finger.  “I guess I'm just double checking that you're still all in.”

“Not if I beat you to it.”

Over-dramatically, Blaine gasps.  “You wouldn't!”

Kurt shrugs.  “Promise that I'm all in, baby boyfriend.  We pinky swore, don't you remember?”  He gathers the shorter boy into his arms and rocks him slowly.

“Oh, silly me.”  Blaine giggles, leaving Kurt in his wake again, and nudging his head to follow.  He leads Kurt down the path to the parking lot where Kurt's car is waiting.

Walking down the path of the park and back into the parking lot of the courthouse is a quiet journey, both boys deep in thought.   They are likely thinking the same thing as the other, but no conversation is needed.  This is finally real. 

Blaine stops in his tracks at the sight of a boy, no older than sixteen, barreling through the iconic front door to the courthouse.  A man is on the boy's tail, savagely pursuing him with every derogatory name Blaine's heard, and even some he hasn't.  Kurt, who is seconds away from opening the driver's seat door to climb in, notices Blaine staring and follows his eyes to the father-son argument only fifty feet away.  Kurt circles the front of the car and slips his hand into Blaine's; they're legitimately staring at Blaine Anderson, one year prior. 

Blaine observes only a few notable differences.  The boy must have needed to call his father because he had no one else; Blaine was lucky enough to have Cooper in town that weekend.  The boy's curls are blonde, his attitude seems harder, and he doesn't really pass as gay even though “faggot” is being thrown around like nobody's business.  The boy's father, however, looks at him in the same way Christian would always look at Blaine.  There is a fair share of name calling and at one point the father's hand raises as a threat. 

Blaine sucks in and looks away and down.  “Kurt.”

“What do you want to do?”  Kurt doesn't look in Blaine's direction.  He's keeping an eye on the boy to make sure he gets away from his dad – from just another Christian Anderson in the lovely state of Ohio – relatively unscathed, at least physically.  His question references the pair standing in front of the courthouse. 

Blaine's answer implies his own life.  “I want to say goodbye to my father before we leave for New York.”