The next morning, Blaine sat up and shielded his eyes with his hand from the sliver of golden sunlight spilling through the open blinds on the window. He felt like crap. He forced himself to sit up, his head pounding and looked around the room. He remembered then that he was at the New York institute. He wondered what time it was. It felt like it could be early morning. The sun was high in the bright blue sky, birds singing somewhere high above the trees off in the distance, the room airy and cool. 

After a few minutes, Blaine threw his legs over the side of the little bed and pushed himself up onto his two feet. The room spun. He sat back down. What was wrong with him? He took a few moments to get his head together before standing back up again. He had no idea why he was feeling like this. He managed to maintain his balance this time and went towards the door. He reached out and took the cold handle in his hand and twisted it clockwise.

The door clicked, but didn't open.

 He was locked in. 

Kurt's heart was hammering inside his chest as he made his way towards Blaine's room down the hall. Would Blaine remember what had happened the night before? And if he did, would he pretend that it hadn't happened? Would he want to talk about it? If so, was Kurt ready to talk about it?

Kurt wasn't sure. He didn't know how he felt about Blaine. He hadn't ever been with anyone like that. Blaine was his first kiss. He didn't regret it, but he wasn't sure what that meant, really. He knew that Blaine was incredibly gorgeous. He knew that he enjoyed spending time in his company, even when he was behaving like a total idiot. He knew that he had felt something in his presence. What he didn't know was what and why.

He had reached Blaine's room now. he took a deep inhale, then tapped lightly on the door. 

"I'm locked in," Blaine's voice came from behind the door.

Kurt felt himself smiling, as he reached inside his pocket and drew out a key. He pushed it through the keyhole and turned it anti-clockwise. He pushed the door open and saw Blaine standing there looking more than a little confused.

"Good morning, sunshine," Kurt beamed.

"You really don't remember anything about last night?"

Kurt asked Blaine after telling him that he had drunk a potion at Magnus'.

"Not a thing," Blaine said, shaking his head.

He still felt a little dizzy, he guessed it must have been the after effects of the spell wearing off.

"What in the name of the Angel did I drink?" he asked, wondering if it was a memory loss potion, or some kind of spell that blocked your thoughts. He couldn't remember a thing.

"A truth potion."

Blaine's heart leapt into his mouth. This was not good.

"What exactly does a truth potion entail?" he asked, nervously.

"Pretty much exactly what it says on the tin," Kurt shrugged next to him, the golden sunlight reflecting off of his hair, the beams bringing out the lighter slivers. "You speak only the truth. I think it's a lot like Tourette's. Only, y'know, not as bad."

Blaine felt sick. What if he'd told Kurt things he wasn't supposed to? What if he had told him about the way he couldn't drag his eyes away every time his bare skin came into view? What if he'd told him how often he thought about him and doing things to him and doing things with him?

"Did I.." he trailed off, words escaping him. Kurt was looking right at him, as if trying to memorise his face exactly. "Did I say or do anything stupid?"

"Well, considering pretty much everything that comes out of your mouth is stupid, with or without a truth potion, I would have to say no. No different than usual."

Was that a good thing?

"Although, you did tell me that you ate a doritaenopsis orchid in botany and broke out in a rash and stayed home watching mundane shows," Kurt smirked.

Blaine smiled, then, because Kurt didn't seem uncomfortable around him at all. Thank the Angel.

"That was a good two weeks," he grinned, happily, relief coursing through his veins, like refreshing ice water on a hot summer's day. 

"I'll bet," Kurt said, rolling his perfect blue eyes. "You don't remember anything else? Anything at all?"

He looked a little hopeful and Blaine felt the fear setting in again.

"No," he said, slowly. "Why? What did I do?"

"Nothing."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"Okay," Blaine said, feeling better again. "What on earth did I drink last night? My mouth tastes like coffee and jelly beans."

Kurt couldn't tell if Blaine remembered everything and was choosing to let him bring it up instead, or if he simply didn't remember anything at all. Either way, he decided to let it go, to forget it had even happened, because it had obviously been a huge mistake, on both their parts.

"So, what are we doing today?" Blaine asked, sitting down next to him at the long table in the kitchen. Everyone else had disappeared, but Kurt decided he would wait for Blaine.

"I don't know," Kurt said, pushing a bowl and box of corn flakes towards Blaine. "Empty schedule."

Blaine filled the bowl with the cereal and then added milk. He began eating.

"Hey, Kurt," Blaine said, between bites.

"Mm hmm?"

"What did we talk about?" he asked, placing the spoon down and turning to look right at Kurt. "Last night, I mean."

Kurt wavered here, because he wasn't sure he knew what to say. He decided it would look suspicious if he waited too long to speak, so he said the first thing he could think of.

"You asked me if I was scared," he said, surprised that his voice sounded a little choked. "If I was scared of being gay," he whispered that last part.

Blaine tilted his head sideways, his golden eyes wide and curious.

"Oh," he said, finally. "What did you say?"

"I said yes," Kurt admitted, eyes locked on Blaine. "Then you said you were, too. You told me you were scared of the future, of what your dad would think."

"Yeah?" Blaine breathed.

Kurt nodded again, catching that naked vulnerability in Blaine's bright eyes again. Suddenly, he wanted to move forward and hug him tight to him, tell him it would be okay, that they would help each other get through it, but he couldn't do that.

"Yeah," Kurt confirmed. "Then I told you I was scared of the future, too."

"You are?"

"Of course, I am," he chuckled a bit. "I guess, we just realised we have a lot in common."

Blaine rewarded him with a small smile. Every time he smiled, Kurt could see it reaching his eyes, the golden colour darkening and glittering like spilled liquid gold. 

"Then what?"

Kurt thought back to what had happened next. 

I also wish you wouldn’t wear those jeans.

Why?

Because they make me want to do things I shouldn’t want to do.

I want to be, though. And since the first time I saw you, I’ve wanted to do this.

And then he'd kissed him. Kurt had replayed the scene over and over countless amounts of times in his head. He felt himself blushing now and hoped Blaine wouldn't notice.

"Then, nothing," he shrugged.

Blaine eyed him a moment, then nodded, "Okay, cool."

There was an awkward silence then, which was luckily broken by Isabelle Lightwood entering the room, her long, silky hair cascading down her back, some of it catching in the tiny silver sequins which covered her shirt.

"Guys!" she grinned. "Alec just told me that Magnus said he can send you both through to Idris today! Isn't that great?!"

Kurt and Blaine smiled weakly, then exchanged a hesitant look. Both took a little comfort in the fact that they were both scared and that they had each other to get through this with, that so long as they had each other, things would be okay. Except they were more than a little aware that things would most definitely not be okay. Nevertheless, this was it, it was really happening and for now, just being there for each other was more than enough.

"Little Blaine," Magnus grinned from ear to ear, when he opened the door and saw Kurt and Blaine standing there. "I trust your back to your usual self?"

He stood back, specks of glitter falling from his body every time he moved. 

"I'm fine," Blaine said, with a small smile. 

They followed Magnus up into his home and into the empty room they'd been in the night before. Blaine didn't remember it of course, but Kurt did.

"I have plenty more of the potion around somewhere. Would you like me to fetch some for you?" Magnus offered.

"No!" both Kurt and Blaine said in unison.

Magnus fake pouted, his cat's eyes glistening with amusement.

"What? You didn't like him better when he was under the spell?" Magnus asked, directing the question at Kurt, who couldn't help blushing a little. "Did you tire of him complimenting your eyes over and over?"

Kurt turned his head away, avoiding Blaine's questioning glare.

"Can we just get this Portal up and running and get out of here?"

Magnus smiled and closed his eyes.

It wasn't long before an area in the centre of the room began to blur, like looking over a burning stove, the air wrinkling and rippling. A moment later, the air seemed to open up, like a door opening slowly, revealing something on the outside. Kurt and Blaine leaned forward and stared into the open Portal, eyes wide. They had both travelled from Idris to Ohio through a Portal, but somehow, this one seemed different, not in appearance, but in meaning. Once they stepped through that portal, that was it. They were there for the war and there would be no coming back.

"Question," Kurt said, throat dry. Magnus looked at him. "Once in Idris, I can contact my father through a fire message, right?"

 "Yes, of course," Magnus nodded, glitter spraying every which way. "Now, in we go, my little Nephilim."

Kurt looked at Blaine. They watched each other as they drew in a long, hard breath, then let it back out. Kurt gave Blaine a small nod and they stepped in front of the Portal.

"Thank you," Blaine said, glancing back at Magnus. Kurt said the same. Magnus smiled a little and waved a hand, blue sparks snapping from his fingers as he urged them to go ahead.

Kurt saw Blaine take a small step forward, so he did the same. He held his breath as they took that first step through the spinning opening. The rest was mostly a blur, the Portal sucking them in and spinning them like they were inside a tumble dryer. The last thing Kurt remembered before he hit the ground was Blaine's hand grabbing his own and holding on for dear life.

They had made it.