Chapter 11

'Did they ever find out about it?'

Blaine shook his head, smiling around his mouthful of cabbage. 'Nope. Three years they hid it, Wes told me. Three years and not a single monitor ever came across it. Which is weird, 'cause they checked our room every evening. Trent and I pushed the dresser in front of it and they never even noticed it had been moved.'

Kurt raised his eyebrows. 'How many people could you fit in there, though?' He chewed his potato slowly, totally detached from the meal and far too interested in hearing about Blaine's escapades at his old school.

Blaine twisted his features in thought. 'About… five? I think? We used to stash food in there and eat it at night. Nick and Jeff used to use it for, um… you know. Too.'

'And you still ate in there?!' exclaimed Kurt. He sighed, shaking his head, and scraped the last couple of carrots onto his fork.

Blaine smiled, finishing his potato. 'You done?' he asked casually when Kurt laid down his cutlery. Kurt nodded and they stood up, chairs scraping as the barman came over to clear their plates. Kurt lingered as Blaine slid him a couple of coins – he had insisted on paying for all expenses at the inn, even though Kurt had no idea where his money came from. They wandered over to the door, Kurt grinning as Blaine courteously held it open for him.

The night air was brisk and carried a faint scent of wood smoke. Kurt watched Blaine out of the corner of his eye as they walked, hands pressed deep into his pockets to warm them. Soft moonlight was dappling down through the thin cloud layer, catching in the Blaine's dark curls and making his skin seem to glow. He looked absolutely beautiful.

Kurt sucked in a deep breath of air and looked away.

They got back to the yard gate and stopped. Kurt glanced up at Blaine awkwardly, pressing his hands deeper into his pockets.

'So, er… goodnight,' he muttered.

Blaine nodded, smiling. 'I… um, I'll come and find you when I get a free hour. Sir Karofsky said I had free time every evening.'

'Do you – are you sure you're okay with doing this?'

'Kurt,' Blaine said softly. He looked up, catching Blaine's steady gaze. 'I'll be fine. I need to stay safe, and we know that this is the best way I can do that and still be around you.'

Kurt shrugged. 'You could leave, you know. Head to Varrod. You'd be safer there.'

Blaine sighed, reaching out a hand as if he was going to touch him, but then dropped it back down by his side. 'No, I'm not going to do that.' This time he did touch Kurt, laying a hand gently on his shoulder. 'I'm not going to leave you.'

Kurt smiled weakly and Blaine pulled him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around Blaine's shoulders, burying his face into his shoulder and breathing the familiar scent in deeply. Blaine's grip tightened briefly before they pulled away.

'I hope tomorrow goes well,' murmured Kurt. 'Sir Karofsky can be… I don't know. Harsh. He doesn't really care about the wellbeing of his servants.' He couldn't help the hint of venom that had slipped into his voice. 'Don't let him get you down, okay? I'll be in my room as soon as lessons are done. Just pretend you're on an errand or something if you want to come up and see me.'

Blaine nodded, quickly hugged him again, and set off back down the path towards the village with a wave.

Kurt sighed, slumping against the gate post, watching his vanishing form. He was conflicted. If Blaine kept his job and stayed in the castle, he would be so much closer to Kurt, so much safer, and who knew what could happen between them? He felt a small smile lift the corner of his mouth. It would be nice to have Blaine around more, certainly, rather than only seeing him occasionally after school and on weekends.

But at the same time, the thought of Blaine working for Sir Karofsky – the man whose son made Kurt's life hell, and did nothing to stop it – left an unsettled feeling in his stomach. He wanted Blaine to be safe, but he really didn't want it to have to happen the way it was.

Huffing into the cold night air, he turned back to the castle.

Nervously, Kurt tapped his quill against his cheek and glanced up at the clock.

There were still another thirty minutes until the end of the lesson. Too long. Kurt sighed and turned back to his parchment as his Anatomy teacher droned on about humours and blood flow. He attempted to take a few notes – he knew that he needed to learn this, they had a test coming up in a couple of weeks that he couldn't fail. But it was boring and he was preoccupied and soon he was back to nervously tapping his quill again.

When the bell finally sounded a long gong to signal the end of the lessons for the day, he was up and out of the classroom before Mercedes even had a chance to grab his arm. He rushed down the corridor and up to his room, only briefly waving at Rachel when she attempted to pull his aside to talk to him.

Finally, finally, he was in his room. He dropped his bag down by the desk and set about getting some wood on the fire – it was getting colder, now, and he had started wearing more layers again. He lit it quickly with a simple spell.

Almost right on time, there was a knock on the door, and he jumped up, hurrying to open it. Blaine stood awkwardly on the threshold, holding a large heap of sheets.

'Hi,' he grinned.

Kurt grinned back and pulled the door open, checking up and down the corridor. It was deserted.

'So,' he started as Blaine dropped the sheets onto Kurt's bed. 'How did – wait, let's sit down.' They settled in opposite armchairs beside the fire. Kurt drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, watching Blaine over the top. 'How did it go?'

Blaine shrugged. 'It was… not as bad as it could have been. Pretty intense. I've pretty much been working non-stop since six this morning.'

'What?' exclaimed Kurt. 'Blaine, that's almost twelve hours, he should have given you some kind of break –'

'It's fine, I had a lunch break. It was only fifteen minutes, but still. It was something.' He fiddled with the carving on the arm of the chair, running his finger over the chiselled wood. 'Actually, he didn't seem that bothered about me taking an hour off each night. I thought he would be.'

Kurt nodded. 'What about the workload?'

Blaine sighed and ran his hands through his hair. 'Tiring. But not too hard. He wasn't going easy on me on my first day, though.'

They continued chatting quietly about their days until Blaine glanced at the clock and jumped up, quickly grabbing the pile of sheets and hugging Kurt. 'I'll see you tomorrow, okay?'

'Okay,' Kurt answered. 'Bye.'

He stood in the middle of the room after Blaine had left, rubbing his arms, staring at the door. It hadn't been as bad as they had thought. Thank goodness. It may have been tiring and busy and hard, but Sir Karofsky hadn't been cruel, and Blaine was fine. He was safe, and he was fine.

With a sigh of relief, Kurt sank down onto his bed.

Over the next three weeks, a pattern began to emerge. Kurt would head down to breakfast every morning, catch Blaine's eye where he was sitting at the servants' table and smiling secretly at him. The morning would pass quickly until lunch, where Kurt would try to see Blaine in the Dining Hall – harder than it sounded, as Blaine's lunch break was not regularly timed – and then head to afternoon lessons. These would drag on, each passing minute making Kurt antsier until he could rush up to his room and see Blaine. They would chat for an hour, until Blaine would hurry back downstairs, leaving Kurt with a hug and a quick 'bye'. Occasionally Blaine wouldn't be able to make it – if he had to accompany Sir Karofsky on an outing, or had to attend whilst he received guests. He would always notify Kurt, though, usually by a note slid under his bedroom door when he woke up.

He had Sundays off, and he and Kurt made the most of them. The first Sunday he had off, they spent in the wood to the east of the village. Blaine showed Kurt how to shoot a bow, Kurt's heart rate quickening when Blaine moulded himself to his side as he positioned him correctly. Blaine shot a pheasant and they cooked it, eating it for lunch. Blaine watched, snorting, as Kurt manipulated the feathers they had plucked into various shapes in midair. The day brought back memories of their first meeting, the time spent in the Forest, tracking and hunting and camping. It warmed something in Kurt's heart.

The second Sunday, they visited Kurt's family. Blaine seemed nervous about meeting Kurt's father, but Kurt simply prodded his arm and told him to relax. They had decided a couple of days ago to tell his parents about Blaine's situation, Kurt knowing that they would be eager to help in any way possible, but that didn't make either of them less nervous.

On arrival, they found Carole pulling up carrots in the little vegetable garden at the front of the house. When Kurt called her name, she straightened up, smiling and wiping her hands.

'Kurt, honey,' she said, coming over and hugging him, careful to keep her muddy hands off his clothes. 'It's lovely to see you, dear.' She eyed Blaine, a small smile playing at her lips. 'And who's this?'

'Er, Carole, this is Blaine,' answered Kurt, dropping a hand onto Blaine's shoulder. 'He's my – friend.'

Carole shook Blaine's hand pleasantly, eyeing him over again. 'Do you want to come inside? I'll see if I can fix you some tea.'

'Thank you,' they said simultaneously. Kurt caught Blaine's eye and grinned.

They followed her into the large central room that made up most of Burt and Carole's house. A big wooden table stood off to the side, beside a huge fireplace, covered in pots and pans and cooking utensils. On the opposite side of the room were several comfortably worn chairs and a couple of bookshelves. A door was set into the wall opposite them that Kurt knew led off to the three bedrooms and Burt's forge.

Carole ushered them in to the little seating area and made sure they were settled before returning to the kitchen to make tea.

'Do you want any help, Carole?' Kurt called over his shoulder.

'No, no, honey, it's fine. You stay over there and keep your friend company.'

Kurt noticed Blaine rubbing his knee awkwardly as he gazed around the room. He reached over and took his hand to reassure him – he knew Blaine had been worried about meeting his family, anxious about what they would say when they found out about his past. He returned Kurt's grip with a grateful squeeze, dropping his hand again as Carole pottered over with a ceramic pot of tea and several mugs.

She served them all, and started by asking Kurt about how his week has gone. He was thankful she hadn't started off by interrogating Blaine; she was clearly at least a little bit aware of his discomfort.

Just when Kurt was telling her about the A he had received in his latest Tactics test, there was a gruff cough from the back corridor and Burt strode in, still in his leather apron, sweat and soot coating his arms and face.

'Carole, hun, could you fix me a dri –' He stopped talking when his eyes landed on Blaine, a neutral expression on his face as he gave him the once-over. 'Oh, hello. Who's this?'

'Dad, this is –'

'I'm Blaine,' he answered, standing up and offering Burt his hand. 'I'm friends with Kurt. I work at the castle.'

Burt nodded slowly, then cautiously gripped Blaine's hand. 'Nice to meet you,' he eventually said, dropping Blaine's hand and looking over at Kurt.

Kurt saw his father's raised eyebrows and gestured that he sit. He did.

Kurt leant forward in his chair, twisting his fingers together as he always did when he was nervous. 'Um, Dad, Carole, I think I should tell you… about how I met Blaine. Some… bad things could be coming up, and it's probably better that you know.' He glanced over at Blaine, whose expression was indecipherable, but nodded anyway.

'Okay,' he began, straightening up. 'So, you remember when Mr Schue sent us on that task a couple of months ago? That was when I first met Blaine.'

When Kurt and Blaine finished telling Kurt's parents everything, it was like a weight had been lifted off their chests. Sure, Jeff and Ethan and even partially Rachel knew about what was going on, but having adults who, in Carole's case especially, had experienced the fear of war before, was strangely comforting. They had taken the news about Blaine's family well, had even offered him a place to hide in their house if the worst came to the worst and the school was somehow compromised. Kurt could almost feel Blaine's relief radiating off him. He wouldn't stop glancing at Kurt and grinning. Kurt always smiled back, himself thankful for the opportunities that telling his parents had been offered to Blaine.

After talking for so long, they were all hungry, and Carole invited Blaine over to the kitchen area to help her fix up some dinner.

Burt caught Kurt's eye and subtly gestured that he follow him. An uneasy feeling of anticipation settled in Kurt's stomach as he got up and followed his father down the hall to the forge. Burt settled down on the edge of the big stone furnace, crossing his arms over his chest as he observed Kurt.

'So,' he said after a few moments. 'You and Blaine. You together?'

Kurt felt his face flush violently as he avoided his father's gaze. 'No, Dad,' he hissed. 'I don't even know if he's gay, I – just because I brought a male friend home doesn't necessarily mean that I'm dating him.'

'Okay, kid, keep your hair on, I was only checking. It's just… you guys seem pretty close.'

Kurt blushed again, rubbing his hand over his eyes as he smiled. 'We are, Dad. You don't go through this kind of thing without forming some sort of bond.'

'Hmm,' acknowledged Burt. He turned round, glancing over at the forge. 'You still up to doing a bit of smithing?' he asked. 'It's been ages since you last had a go, and we don't want to distract Carole from doing the magic she usually does.'

Kurt smiled and grabbed a leather apron.

About three quarters of an hour later, when Kurt was holding three cooling iron wheel spokes in an old rag, they were summoned for dinner.

'Boys!' Carole's voice carried down the hallway. 'Come eat!'

The food was simple but delicious – pork that was left over from the previous evening, cabbage that was cooked to a perfect balance between soft and slightly crunchy, roasted potatoes and carrots. Blaine had tried to insist that it was all too much, but had been simultaneously shushed by Kurt and Carole sent to peel carrots. There was fruit and freshly homemade yogurt for dessert. The conversation was light and easy, a relief after the morning's discussion.

When lunch had finished, Kurt and Blaine helped clear up, then decided to head back to the castle – it was starting to get late a lot earlier now, and even at mid-afternoon the sky was beginning to darken. Kurt hugged his father and kissed Carole, made sure that Blaine said goodbye properly too, grinned when Burt pulled their handshake into a rough hug and Carole gave him a peck on the cheek.

'Look out for yourself, bud,' said Burt, patting him on the shoulder. 'If what you and Kurt have told us is true, we've got some tricky times up ahead. Just remember that Carole and I are always here to help, got that?'

Blaine nodded, eyes wide, and allowed him to be pulled out of the house by Kurt.

Kurt awoke late on the morning of the third Sunday since Blaine had begun, rubbing his eyes against the harsh white light streaming in through a crack in his curtains and pushing himself up in bed. To his surprise, he saw Mercedes seated in one the chairs in front of the fireplace, nursing a mug of cocoa.

'Mer – Mercedes?' he mumbled, sitting up properly. 'What are you doing here?'

Mercedes glanced up, a grin breaking out across her features before they slipped into a more concerned smile. 'It's nice to see you still exist,' she said, putting down the cocoa and beckoning him over. Kurt stumbled out of bed, pulling his robe on, and curled up in a chair opposite her.

'What?' he asked sleepily when she passed him his own cocoa.

'I said, it's a relief to know you're still with us. Where have you been for the past month, Boo? You've got us all worried.'

'But – I – you've seen me in class…'

'Exactly,' she said sternly. 'We have only seen you in class. You used to hang out with me and Tina and Rachel all the time, Kurt, what's going on? Are you having another family crisis or something that I need to know about?'

Kurt knew she was referring to the horrible episode last year when his father had nearly died of a heart attack. It had been a terrifying week of over-priced physician's bills and nights spent by his father's bedside, gripping his limp hand, and they had all been eternally relieved when he had finally squeezed Kurt's hand back.

'No,' said Kurt, shaking his head. 'I – it's not – quite that.'

'What do you mean, Boo?'

Kurt glanced up at Mercedes over his mug, the concerned look in her eyes melting his resolve. It couldn't be that bad to let her know, he thought. She was by far the most trustable of his friends, and the one he had known the longest. She would know to keep this to herself.

'I, um, I met someone.'

He was greeted by a puzzled silence, then he saw as it dawned in her eyes, an grin splitting across her face. 'Oh my gosh, Kurt!' she exclaimed. 'That's amazing! How long ago? Are you dating? What's his name?'

Kurt laughed. 'Okay, okay, calm down,' he muttered, taking a long draught of cocoa. 'I met him… on my task, actually. He – moved to the village a few weeks later. His name's Blaine. And, um, no, we're not… dating. I don't even know if he's gay.' But I suspect it, he added in his head.

Mercedes grinned as Kurt told her about Blaine's job in the castle and how he was not in fact related to either Ethan or Jeff, just that they were friends of Blaine's that had "moved" with him and needed a hand finding something to do. He was careful to keep as much information about Blaine's past and the reason for his coming to Callahan hidden, unsure whether Mercedes would take it as easily as his parents had.

'So am I officially kicked out of the best friend spot?' she teased.

'No,' laughed Kurt. 'Of course not. You might just have to make a little more room for someone else up there. I still love you just as much.'

'You love him, too?'

Kurt choked on his cocoa, coughing violently and spilling it on the rug. 'Mercedes,' he grunted. 'I – no. Maybe. I don't know. I definitely like him, though.'

Mercedes gave him a coy smile. 'I bet he's a pretty good piece of man-flesh to get you blushing like that, Kur –'

They were interrupted by three knocks on the door and a soft call of 'Kurt?'

'That's him,' Kurt hissed, attempting to wipe up some of the cocoa he had spilt on himself. 'I guess you get to meet him now, at least.'

He opened the door quickly and Blaine strode in, a grin on his face and basket with a couple of blankets in his arms. 'Hey!' he exclaimed. 'Okay, so I know you said you wanted to go down to the lake today, I thought we could make it into a picnic…' He trailed off when he noticed Mercedes. 'Um, hi,' he said softly.

Mercedes grinned at him before sending an impressed look to Kurt. 'Er, Blaine,' started Kurt, 'this is Mercedes. Mercedes, this is Blaine. I think I've mentioned enough of you to the other for you to know who they are.'

'You work for Karofsky, right?' asked Mercedes. Blaine nodded. 'Yeah, I've seen you around. I would never have guessed you were friends with Kurt, though.'

She stood up, gathering up the mugs and turning towards the door. 'I heard a picnic mentioned. Have fun.' She winked at Kurt before leaving the room.

Kurt sighed. 'Sorry,' he said. 'She was here when I woke up. You can trust her, don't worry.'

'Did you tell her about me?' asked Blaine.

'A bit. Nothing really about your background.' He motioned to the things still in Blaine's arms. 'I'm going to get changed, then we're going on that picnic, okay? It sounds great.'

Blaine nodded, still looking slightly stunned, as Kurt gathered up some clothes that he deemed appropriate for outdoor wear and headed into the bathroom.

By the time they reached the bank of the lake that lay a little to the south of the castle, a weak midday sun had risen above the cloud cover. They set up a couple of blankets in the sun on the grassy shore, near enough to the water that they could throw pebbles in but far enough away to escape any waves if the wind picked up. Kurt settled down on the blankets, shielding his eyes as he looked around at the beautiful landscape then up at Blaine's face. 'So what are we eating?' he asked.

Grinning, Blaine put the basket down between them and dropped to his knees. He produced rolls, half a slab of cheese, fresh tomatoes, cold meat, hard-boiled eggs, buns and a bottle of lemon-flavoured drink.

'Wow, Blaine,' said Kurt. 'You really went the extra mile.'

'Yes, well. I wanted this to be… nice.'

'It certainly is.'

They started on the picnic, constructing rolls from the various ingredients and pouring drinks of "lemonade", as Blaine called it. He said that it had been a regular occurrence in Roden, had they never heard of it here? Kurt shook his head, enjoying the new and slightly fizzy taste on his tongue. Blaine simply laughed and refilled his glass.

When they were full, they lounged back on the blankets, looking up at the sky, which had cleared enough now for there to be small, distinct clouds. Kurt pointed out one that had the vague shape of a dog, Blaine swatting his hand away and saying it looked at lot more like a goat. He let Blaine describe them from then on; he seemed to be a lot more creative in his naming of cloud formations, after all.

'Do you want to go for a swim?' Blaine asked out of the blue, just as Kurt felt himself begin to drop off.

'Huh?' he said. 'Blaine, it's nearly winter. Don't you think it would be too cold to swim?'

'No!' answered Blaine. 'It's sunny and –' he jumped up, running down to the water's edge and swiping his fingers through it – 'the water's not too cold. Come on, Kurt, it'll be fun!'

Kurt sighed. 'Fine.'

He tried to keep his eyes averted as Blaine stripped excitedly to his undershorts, but he couldn't help the occasional glance at Blaine's tanned expanse of back, the firm muscles in his calves, the roundness of his a – No, Kurt, he told himself sternly. He stripped down to his undershorts and undershirt too, glad that he had thought to wear one today. Turning back to the lake, he saw Blaine watching him with an amused expression, and – Gosh, his chest, how does he expect me to just have fun and swim when he has that much skin on display?

'Shirt off, Kurt, come on, you'll need it to keep you warm when you get out.'

Nervously, Kurt unlaced and pulled off his undershirt, folding it onto his pile of clothes as the cool afternoon air brushed his skin. He shivered, glancing down at his pale bare chest. He had never really felt comfortable in his own skin – too skinny, too pale, too girly. But when he turned back to the lake and saw the way Blaine gaped, saw his eyes sweep up and down his body, he couldn't help but feel a faint glimmer of hope that maybe he wasn't as boring-looking as he felt.

'Um,' said Blaine, shaking himself and returning his gaze to Kurt's eyes. 'Let's go.'

He turned around and ran into the water, shouting happily as he splashed at Kurt. Kurt ducked, trying to shield himself with his arms, but Blaine had aimed well and he gasped as a chilly splash hit him in the face.

'Oh, you are on, Mr Anderson,' he said, grinning and running after Blaine.

They splashed and swam around until they were both shivering and starting to wrinkle, at which point Kurt firmly told Blaine that they were getting out now, he did not spend half an hour every morning and evening going through his skincare regime to have in ruined by murky lake water. Blaine sighed and followed him out of the lake, both of them grabbing blankets to wrap themselves up in to get warm.

Once they were both warm and dry and dressed again, they sat side by side, looking out over the water as the sun set. It was nice, Kurt thought, having his side pressed up against Blaine's through the blanket wrapped around both of them, nice to be alone out here without the distraction of school and work and other people. He sighed tiredly, and very, very gently, laid his head down on Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine didn't move, but Kurt saw his jaw shape change as he smiled. He felt a warm hand in his and looked down at where Blaine had tangled their fingers together. Squeezing them gently, he nuzzled Blaine's shoulder with his nose, looking up at the appearing stars.

They sat like that, in comfortable silence, for a long time, until Kurt felt Blaine's shoulder shifting under his cheek and sat up properly.

'Something on your mind?' he asked softly.

Blaine glanced up at him through his long lashes, and – wow, Kurt had never really noticed Blaine's eyelashes before, but now that he had, they had him entranced. 'No,' he replied just as quietly. 'I'm just… this is nice. I kind of feel… removed from everything here, you know? Like I don't have to worry about everything that's going on right now.'

Kurt nodded and squeezed Blaine's hand again. 'We're going to do our best to keep you safe, you know that. And if – and I am not going to let it happen, Blaine – but if he does find you…' He paused, making eye contact, the golden-green of Blaine's eyes shining in the moonlight. 'You know that I'll always be with you. In here.' He pressed their interlocked fingers to Blaine's chest, just above his heart, swallowing heavenly. 'I just – Blaine. Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?'

Blaine's mouth dropped open a little, but he didn't say anything. Kurt steeled himself. 'I know I'm not normal,' he said quietly. 'I'm quirky and stubborn and worried about my future, as well as yours.' He paused, taking a deep breath. 'But if there's one thing I am absolutely sure of, Blaine, it's the way I feel about you.'

And he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Blaine's.

His lips were soft, dry and a tiny bit cracked from the lake water. Kurt slid his own against them gently, eyes shut, hand tightening around Blaine's. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss as he felt Blaine's lips begin to move against his. His head swam, he couldn't focus, suddenly understanding what Rachel had meant when she had explained how amazing her first kiss with Finn had been. Gently, he moved his free hand up to Blaine's face, cupping his jaw and sighing gently as he opened his mouth.

Suddenly he tipped forward, hands grasping at thin air, pushing himself upright as he opened his eyes. Blaine was standing in front of him, hand over his mouth, tears in his eyes. Kurt gaped up at him, confused, brain still slightly fuzzy from the euphoria of kissing Blaine.

'I'm sorry, Kurt,' he gasped. 'I can't.'

And with that he turned and ran back towards the castle.