"Come again?" Kurt yawned.

"Let's make pancakes." Blaine was suddenly on his feet, rolling his shoulders and jogging a little in place to get the blood flowing properly in his feet.

"Since when are you a morning person?" Kurt asked, suspicious of Blaine suddenly being so… Blaine. And at seven AM no less.

"Not hard to be a morning person when you don't sleep." Blaine winked and offered a hand to pull the other boy to his feet.

Kurt pressed his thumbs into the small of his back, grimacing at the sound of vertebrae clicking back into place. "Speak for yourself."

"A little coffee will wake you up." Blaine was already moving toward the door into the house. "And pancakes. Pancakes are lifesavers."

"No, pancakes are what will make people mistake me for the Pillsbury Dough Boy if we ever decide to go to the beach." Kurt trailed after Blaine.

"Hush, they will not. They're good for the soul." Blaine scratched Tucker behind the ear when he appeared at his side. "Right, boy, right?"

"And bad for my hips." Kurt sat down at the kitchen table heavily.

Blaine put his hands on his knees and grinned at Tucker. "Tell Kurt that if he were any smaller he'd look like one of those creepy runway models."

Tucker waged his tail and licked Blaine across the face, exulting in receiving attention once more from his best friend.

Kurt gave up arguing, he resigned himself to starting a pot of coffee and studying Blaine as he danced around the kitchen pulling out bowls and pans, Tucker constantly at his heels. Other than some dark circles below his eyes, he seemed… fine.

Kurt returned to the table, placed one coffee mug in the seat across from him and holding another between both hands for himself as he settled back into his chair. Blaine grinned at him from where he stood in front of the stove. "Did you know I was a culinary wizard?"

"I wasn't aware of that particular aspect of your resume, no." Kurt smiled back.

Blaine flipped a pancake before pointing his spatula toward Kurt. "A breakfast bon vivant. Tucker loves my food, don't you boy?"

Kurt smiled despite himself. "And Tucker's palate is so refined too; impressive, Mr. Anderson."

"You just wait and see." Blaine waltzed over to the table and dropped down a bottle of syrup before returning with a plate of pancakes.

Kurt made a face at him as the darker haired boy put two on a plate (with a little less syrup than he himself preferred, thank God) and shoved it toward Kurt.

"Blaine." Kurt whined.

Kurt had expected Blaine to move immediately into his pout mode. Instead, he cut a neat triangle shaped section from the golden disks, stabbed into it with his fork and held it in front of him. "Did your mother do here comes the choo choo train, or do you prefer the airplane?"

Kurt looked at Blaine cynically.

Blaine kept the fork poised. "Cars, then? I can do all three."

"Blaine, I-"

Blaine shoved the fork into Kurt's mouth. "Ha!"

Kurt had no choice but to swallow down the syrupy sweetness. He groaned. "Blaine, we do not all have alarmingly fast metabolisms that allow us to eat ten thousand pancakes everyday."

Blaine was chewing on a bite from his own plate, looking thoughtful. A smile crept across his face as he looked back to Kurt. "You do have a point."

Kurt nodded primly, but knew better than to believe Blaine would simply concede defeat.

"I have a proposition for you then, Mr. Hummel." Blaine was tracing a pinkie through the syrup on his plate.

"Go on…" Kurt sat back in his chair, waiting.

"First we eat our pancakes," Blaine continued to trace his finger around the edge of his plate.

Kurt was about to scoff, but then Blaine lifted his finger to his mouth and sucked it clean.

"And then we engage in a little cardio and get ready for the day." Blaine finished, his mouth curving into a suggestive smirk.

Kurt lifted his fork and took a bite from his own plate. "Or we could kill two birds with one stone and do our cardio while we get ready…"

Blaine grinned as he swallowed down another bite. "Multi-tasking. I like it."

"Then you're gonna love me." Kurt winked. He was getting better at this whole seductive thing. But not as good as his counterpart.

Blaine pushed his plate aside, crawled across the table and pressed his mouth to Kurt's- his mouth cloyingly sweet against Kurt's own. "I'm full."

"Shower?" Kurt asked breathlessly.

"Shower."

Almost as soon as they had climbed back into Blaine's bed, hair still dripping, Kurt fell asleep. When he awoke, he registered sunlight flowing into the room- warm on his face and creating a pink glow behind his still closed eyes. He stretched an arm out to pull his lover in closer, but his hand was met with…fur. He opened his eyes slowly to stare. There was another male in bed with him, but it was not Blaine. Tucker's head rested only inches from his. His tail made a dull thumping sound on the bed as he stared back at Kurt.

"You're not really my type." Kurt said flatly.

The dog's tail wagged faster and he licked Kurt across the face.

Kurt sat up, scrubbing at the slobber with his forearm. "You and the guy I do like have a lot in common though."

Tucker jumped down from the bed, but waited in the doorway for Kurt to follow after him before bounding down the stairs. Kurt glanced in the kitchen. The plates were gone from the table and the flour wiped from the counter, but no Blaine. He moved on to the family room, the deck, the dining room, but all were empty.

"Blaine?" Kurt called. Tucker barked at the sound of his favorite person's name.

"Shush." Kurt glared at the dog and strained to listen. Nothing.

Tucker ran to the door leading to the garage and pawed at it intently, whining. Kurt turned the knob and let the dog out, but before he could close it behind him he caught sight of a ladder, its top disappearing into an open trapdoor above.

He peered up the ladder into the space above. "Blaine?"

After a momentary shuffling, Blaine's face peered back down at his. "Good, you're awake. Can you help me with something quick?"

Before he could respond, Blaine's face disappeared again back into the space. He was back a moment later, lowering a cardboard box down in front of him. Kurt caught the bottom of it before letting it drop to the floor. Its top had Blaine's name printed across it in bold, markered letters.

Blaine descended down the ladder a moment later; he smiled at Kurt. "Summer clothes."

"Ah." Kurt lifted the box and waited by the door while Blaine put away the ladder.

They sat on the floor of the family room while Blaine rifled through the contents of the box, apparently displeased with the majority of the things inside. "Do you ever look at something and just have to wonder 'what the hell was I thinking?'"

"When it comes to clothes?" Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Never."

Blaine shook his head and grinned. "Stupid question."

Kurt unfolded a maroon colored t-shirt and sighed. "Your taste isn't bad, it's just so… generic. Fashion requires boldness."

Blaine peered down into the box and suddenly grinned. He pulled out a pair of hot pink sunglasses and put them on, tilting his head from side to side for Kurt.

"Those are definitely bold," Kurt smiled, "But a little on the tacky side."

"They are not!" Blaine pouted, he hooked them onto the edge of his t-shirt before shoving everything else back into the box. He crossed out his name on the top and relabeled it 'Goodwill'.

"Well, that was a waste of time." Kurt sighed.

"Not entirely." Blaine waved the sunglasses in front of Kurt like a trophy.

Kurt rolled his eyes but smiled. "An excuse to take you shopping I guess."

"Wanna go now?" Blaine was already back up on his feet, lugging the box back toward the garage.

Kurt glanced at his phone. It was only about two in the afternoon and he had a missed call from Mercedes. "I never say no to shopping; mind if we pick up Mercedes on the way?"

"Sounds perfect." Blaine was already back in, Tucker trotting along at his side.

"Just let me get my things and we can go." Kurt pulled Mercedes name up in his contacts as he climbed the stairs to Blaine's room.

"Boy, I have been trying to get a hold of you since yesterday afternoon!" Mercedes whined.

"Hello to you too; happy first day of summer." He balanced the phone between his shoulder and ear as he dropped damp towels and abandoned shirts into Blaine's laundry hamper while searching for his own belongings.

"Where have you been? I wanted to go to the mall yesterday!"

"I'm in New Albany," Kurt found his t-shirt from the last day of school crumpled beneath Blaine's bed. He felt a pang of guilt for having abused his poor wardrobe so poorly. The things one does for love, "But Blaine and I were just discussing a trip to the mall. Wanna come?"

"New Albany twice in twenty four hours? How do you have any money left after the gas for that kind of driving?"

Kurt eyed his reflection in the mirror, smoothing a crease in the edge of yet another of Blaine's t-shirts he had borrowed. Plain gray was just so incredibly boring. "Who says I made two trips?"

"Shut up." Mercedes sounded excited.

"Fine, I will." Kurt smiled at his reflection before moving back toward the stairs.

"Details. Now." Mercedes demanded.

"No. Later." He replied. Blaine was bouncing on his heels in the doorway.

"Kurt, you do NOT get to imply you spent the night at your boyfriend's place and then just leave me hanging."

"Do you want to go to the mall or not?" Kurt jingled his keys at Blaine, implying he was ready to go.

"You aren't too worn out from the trip to your boyfriend's?" Mercedes voice pried for more.

"No, I took a nap." Kurt quipped, not minding when Blaine stole the keys from his hand and climbed into the driver's side of the Navigator.

Mercedes howled, "Are you telling me what I think you're telling me?"

"I am telling you that we will be picking you up in approximately two hours." Kurt replied.

"Fine, don't tell me anything," Mercedes sulked, "I'll get it out of Blaine while you try on half of Nordstrom's."

Kurt hung up, smiling to himself.

Blaine had on his stupid sunglasses and his fingers drummed the wheel as they say at a stoplight.

"Did you sleep at all?" Kurt queried, he had not missed the fact that Blaine was practically bouncing off the walls with energy.

"Little bit." Blaine replied, turning on the radio as they pulled onto the freeway.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive? You could nap on the way to Lima."

Blaine smiled, "Nah, I'm high off of summer and you, I don't need sleep."

They picked up Mercedes a couple hours later, and as promised, she harassed Blaine for answers while Kurt tried on clothes. When Kurt shoved Blaine into a dressing room with a mountain of things he had insisted Blaine try on, it was his turn to be interrogated by his best friend.

"Sounds like you two have had a busy start to summer." Mercedes grinned.

Kurt yawned and shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess Blaine wears you out more than you wear him out." Mercedes giggled.

"His energy is boundless." Kurt shook his head.

"Does he ever stop smiling?" Mercedes laughed, "I know being with you is a good time, but that boy is straight up drunk off you."

Kurt remembered the previous day when Blaine had indeed stopped smiling. He glanced toward the dressing room before speaking in a lowered tone. "He wasn't so pleasant yesterday when we ran into some old classmates of his."

Mercedes glanced toward the dressing room too before responding, "Like kids that bullied him?"

Kurt nodded, how could he have forgotten- even momentarily- about the events of the previous day? "I've never seen him so upset, 'Cedes. It was like he'd never left his old school the way he reacted. It was… I don't even know how to describe it."

"Hold up, you actually talked to these guys?" Mercedes clamped her mouth shut when Blaine came out of the dressing room, a despairing look directed toward Kurt.

"No." Blaine stated flatly, pointing a finger at the hot pink fabric. "Not happening."

Kurt had to make a conscious effort not to study Blaine for any hints of the confrontation the previous day. He forced a smile. "But it matches your new favorite sunglasses."

Blaine shook his head adamantly.

Kurt sighed, "Fine. Try something else then."

As soon as Blaine disappeared back into the little room, Kurt murmured the whole experience to Mercedes- leaving out some of the more disturbing details and Blaine's account of stars and the truth of the scar. Somehow without those things included, even in Kurt's ears, it didn't sound all that terrible.

Mercedes confirmed Kurt's feelings, "It sounds like he just got a little shaken up by seeing that again so suddenly. I mean, how would you have felt if Karofsky had shown up at Dalton one day while you were there?"

"This is Blaine though, Mercedes, not me." Kurt cringed when he thought back on some of the more disturbing moments he had kept from Mercedes. Blaine's knees buckling in the yard of the vacated yard as they left the park, Eric pressing a kiss to Blaine's forehead; Blaine's eyes. No, he was not over reacting to what had happened yesterday. So why was Blaine so happy? "And today it was like it had never happened; he's been like this since seven thirty this morning."

"He got upset and he brushed it off," Mercedes shrugged, then smiled, "And with you in his life, how could he stay sad about his past for long?"

Kurt smiled dubiously, "Still, it just seems… I don't know."

"Well, we can watch him and see what happens, but I think he's over it."

Kurt was about to question what they were supposed to be watching for exactly, but Blaine had come back around the corner, still looking irritated in a bright green Marc by Marc Jacobs t-shirt. "Do you hate me or do you just have a weird fetish for neons?"

"Remember our conversation about being bold?"

"This is not bold, this is how runners avoid getting hit by cars." Blaine stared down at the fabric. "And why is there a cartoon child on it? I feel like this is what they should force pedophiles to wear so we can identify them in a crowd."

"Do not insult the creativity of Marc Jacobs," Kurt reprimanded, but sighed, "Fine, we'll keep you in Burberry and Ralph Lauren. Happy?"

"Joyful." Blaine grinned and paraded back into his dressing room. A few hours later, they loaded back into Kurt's car, stuffing shopping bags into the backseat.

Kurt was exhausted, but Blaine was still wired with energy that he seemed to be able to pull from nowhere. "Now what?"

"Now, we pat ourselves on the back for a successful trip to the mall and we crash." Kurt replied.

"Aw, come on, you were the one yesterday who was so set on embracing summer." Blaine motioned a hand toward the blue skies out the window.

"Yeah, Kurt, it's the first day of summer, lets do something." Mercedes leaned forward and opened the sunroof.

Kurt contemplated what they could do as he pulled into his driveway. He clapped his hands together. "I have the perfect idea."

"You love this thing more than you love me."

"It's a close race, but you come out just a little bit ahead," Kurt smiled over his car at Blaine, "Scrub."

"I am scrubbing." Blaine huffed, using both hands on the wet cloth in his hands to scour the hood. "I told you I'd pay to take it through the carwash."

"It's more satisfying to do it yourself." Kurt admired the gleaming black paint.

"For someone who seems so flamboyant, you sure take your car seriously." Blaine grumbled, dunking his arm into the plastic bucket of suds.

"For someone who seems so straight, you sure are acting gay about taking care of a car." Kurt retorted.

Blaine quirked an eyebrow, "I am gay. What's your excuse?"

"I take pride in the beauty of all of my things." Kurt eyed Blaine up and down.

Blaine draped himself over the hood of the car, giving Kurt his best bedroom eyes. "Yeah?"

"Hello, reminder number fifty thousand, either remember you have company or get a room." Mercedes threw a sopping rag at Blaine. Her previous affections for Blaine and Kurt's sweet nothings had long since faded.

Blaine made a face when it struck him in the chest. He sat up on the front of the car, holding the thing a few inches away. "Why is it sexy when models squeeze water out of these things all over themselves in car commercials? It's full of bugs that got spattered on the car."

"I am going to spatter you all over this car if you two don't tone it down." Mercedes huffed.

"Please don't, it would take forever to clean up," Kurt walked the perimeter of the car, inspecting it for any missed spots, "… And you already busted the window out once, isn't that enough damage?"

"Don't worry about the threat to my life or anything." Blaine griped.

Kurt rounded the Navigator to find Blaine sitting cross-legged in front of the car; his nose wrinkled with disgust beneath the hot pink Wayfarers as he scrubbed at the grill where many of the aforementioned carcasses of insects clung tightly, "Have I told you lately that you are positively adorable?"

Blaine turned his head and grinned up at Kurt. He and Mercedes both spoke at the same time, "Yes."

"Kurt Hummel, I swear to God-" Mercedes came to stand beside Kurt, ready to tear his head off for inviting her over only so she could listen to him fawn over Blaine. She looked down at Blaine too and sighed, "He does look cute."

Blaine lifted his glasses to wink at Mercedes. They fell back down onto his nose on their own accord as he scrutinized the car. The few moments without the black lenses between he and the vermin glued to the car were apparently a little too much for him to keep up his work with the washcloth; he scrambled to his feet, "Power washing. This calls for power washing."

Kurt and Mercedes watched Blaine disappear around the side of the house, "He seems fine."

Kurt glanced toward the side yard to make sure his boyfriend was still cleanly out of earshot. "He does seem all right… but I'm telling you 'Cedes, it was like he was sleepwalking. I guess you could be right… maybe he's over it."

"Over what?" Blaine appeared, tugging a hose after him.

"Over your love for hair gel." Kurt covered easily, fondly eyeing the curls on Blaine's forehead.

Blaine smiled ruefully, passing a hand through his hair before shrugging and turning his attention back to the car.

Kurt studied him for a few moments. He wished absently that little thought bubbles actually appeared over people's heads like in cartoons so he could see what was going on behind Blaine's peppy exterior.

Blaine's head turned in Kurt's direction, he grinned and directed the hose at Kurt, effectively drenching him.

"You're lucky you're so attractive, or I would claw your face off right now." Kurt rubbed the water from his eyes. Maybe the exterior was real after all.

Later that evening, Kurt made his second trip to New Albany to drop Blaine off at home. By the time they pulled into the driveway, streetlights had come on and there was a glow of houselights from the places on either side of Blaine's own dark-faced home.

"Thanks for making the drive again; my turn next time." Blaine remained in his seat, staring at the front of the house for a moment.

Kurt regarded the house too—depressing in its obvious vacancy. He yawned.

"Are you all right to drive home?" Blaine's hand brushed Kurt's.

Kurt rubbed his eyes briefly, "I think so; I'll keep the windows down- fresh air should do the trick."

Blaine regarded him cynically, "Not a very comforting thought."

"I have to work at my dad's shop tomorrow morning; I need to get back." Kurt replied, though his eyes burned with exhaustion.

Blaine studied him a moment longer before shaking his head, "You'll pass out before you even get to the exit for Dalton. Stay; I'll set an alarm and we'll go straight to sleep."

Kurt smiled briefly, "Straight to sleep?"

Blaine nodded adamantly, suppressing a smirk, "Promise."

Kurt sighed, "I'll call my dad and say I'm at Rachel's."

When they got up to Blaine's room, they climbed into bed. Kurt felt ready to pass out the second his head hit the pillow, but Blaine was restless beside him. Half asleep already, Kurt rolled onto his stomach and used one hand to rub slow circles on Blaine's back-- the trick his mother had always used to put him to sleep when he was a child. He was not entirely sure if he drifted off before Blaine, but he was positive that he was the one to wake first a few hours later to shake Blaine from a screaming nightmare. He hugged him close, stroked his hair, and murmured all the clich�s you sooth someone with. When he was sure he'd fallen back into unconsciousness, Kurt still smoothed the same circular pattern over his back, his mind more awake than it had been all day.

Kurt felt an ache in his chest for the sweet boy beside him. Pink sunglasses and a grin were easy walls to hide behind during the day, but nighttime had once again betrayed Blaine. Kurt felt the muscles of Blaine's shoulders twitch briefly below his hand. Kurt hushed him softly, hoping to ward off any more attacks of his lover's mental demons. Blaine had made things better for him more times than Kurt could count—he'd given Kurt his confidence back when he'd first come to Dalton, he'd given him his first solo in front of an audience, he had been the person—the perfect person—to say the things Kurt had longed his whole life to hear, looked at him the way Kurt believed no one would ever look at him. Blaine had put Kurt back together. Kurt pressed a kiss to the top of Blaine's head and whispered into the dark hair. "I will make this better."