The road ahead was pitch black, the hue of Blaine's headlights the only thing giving off any light for miles. He drove slowly, cautiously, the rain beating down heavily on the roof of the car, drenching the windscreen, the wipers sweeping back and forth rapidly in their endeavour to be the victors in this war against the great drops of rain that the despondent sky cried.

He deviated a corner and continued on down the road, the hum of the car radio drowned out by the sound of the rain crashing down on the exterior of the car. His stomach had been doing back flips since he had climbed out of bed and tip-toed down the halls of the Institute. He could hardly believe he was really doing this, that this was really happening. He was excited and nervous and admittedly, a little scared that it would backfire. Won't know 'til you try, Blaine reminded himself, before slowing the car down. He parked on the edge of a cul-de-sac, killing the ignition, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself. He had forgotten to put a Glamour on the stupid car. Blaine looked down at his watch. It was 2:56am. They had arranged to meet at 3 o' clock. He was early. 

Blaine thought about driving away and coming back a few minutes past 3, in an attempt not to appear too eager, but decided against it, conceding it was nonsensical.

He looked around the area, where Kurt apparently resided with his family. It was nice, he guessed. It looked like the housing estates depicted in movies or that they showed on those home decor shows (he really enjoyed those shows), simple and neighbourly, semi-detached houses, small front garden, large back garden, two cars in the drive way, mommy, daddy, two point five kids and a partridge in a pear tree. In a word: Perfection.

No wonder Kurt disliked it so much here.

Speaking of which, where IS Kurt?, Blaine wondered, checking his watch again. It was one minute past three now. What if he had changed his mind? Decided it was stupid, or worse, didn't want to spend the next few days in Blaine's company? No, he told himself, Calm down. He'll be here. Give him time, for the Angel's sake.

Moments later, after experiencing what had to have been borderline hysteria, Blaine saw a dark figure coming towards him in the darkness. His heart beat began to speed up as it really hit him that this was real, it was real and they were doing this. He gave the switch above his head a flick, activating the overhead light. He could make Kurt's features out now, the swell of his broad shoulders, his long legs, the styling of his hair. He also had four suitcases in tow.

Blaine opened the door on his side and pulled his jacket up, using it as a very lame attempt of a shelter over his head.

"You brought four suitcases?" he exploded, shouting over the sound of the rain.

"Just open the damned trunk so we can get out of the rain," Kurt demanded, which, Blaine thought, was probably wise.

He ran round to the back end of the car, his clothes absorbing the rain. He pulled the trunk opened and helped Kurt lift the very heavy cases inside. He snapped it shut and ran back to the front. 

"Okay," Blaine breathed, once they were both inside, out of the cold. "Now let me ask this again: You brought four suitcases?"

Kurt rolled his light blue eyes, as he ran his fingers through his dripping wet hair.

"By the Angel, Blaine," he began and Blaine realised it was the first time Kurt had spoken his name since they'd met. "Yes, I brought four suitcases, can you count?"

Blaine smiled, then, because he was learning that an angered Kurt was funnier than watching one of the Forsaken trying to fit through a narrow lane. 

"I can, incidentally," Blaine confirmed, smugly. "And by virtue of this fact, I have conceded that you have far too much baggage on your person."

"Tell me something I don't know," Kurt murmured, turning away to pull his seat belt from the wall. Blaine had a feeling he wasn't talking about the suitcases in the back of his car anymore.

"Good to go?" Blaine smiled, once Kurt had clipped the belt into place with a loud clacking sound.

Kurt looked up and Blaine watched as he took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in the light of the pale moon.

"We're really doing this," Kurt uttered, breathlessly.

"Yeah," Blaine grinned. "We are."

"Wow."

"Yeah, wow," Blaine chuckled, watching as Kurt's eyes failed to blink, as he stared out at the nothingness in front of them. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Kurt was silent for what seemed like an eternity, but could only have been about thirty seconds. His eyes remained locked on the darkness ahead.

"The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page," he said, suddenly and then, when he saw Blaine looking at him as if he had just spoken a foreign language, he explained himself. "St. Augustine." 

"Oh," Blaine said nodding, very slowly, then a smile spread across his face. "Well," he said. "Let's go read that book!"

And with that, they were gone, setting off into the darkness, unsure of what lay ahead, but happy to leave what was behind exactly as it was.

                                                           ***

"Seriously, what have you got with you that required four suitcases?" Blaine asked once they were on the road, the rain having dissipated a little.

"Why how many do you have?"

"One and a large bag," Blaine shrugged, eyes flicking to Kurt and then back to the road ahead. 

Looking out on the road ahead was like looking into an abyss of darkness, the only light to be found was the warm glow the headlights of Blaine's car sent across the road directly in front.

"I brought several changes of clothes," Kurt shrugged. 

"Well," Blaine began, biting his tongue, forcing back the smile that was playing on his lips. "If you're going to continue to get yourself into situations like you did with the Raums, that's probably wise."

Kurt remained unmoved, much to Blaine's disappointment.

"Very funny, Anderson," he said, simply, no anger or frustration in his voice.

"I liked it better when you got mad at me," Blaine chuckled. 

"I know," Kurt said, the corners of his mouth tilting upwards.

So this was how it was going to be.

An hour or so later, Blaine could feel his eyes closing, the tiredness consuming him piece by piece. They'd had a mostly silent journey the past half hour, only speaking when absolutely necessary. Kurt was dozing off, too, his eyes half closed as he stared aimlessly out the window. He noticed when Blaine jumped, not allowing the sleep to take over.

"Hey, Blaine," Kurt said, groggily. 

"Yeah?"

"Maybe we should make a stop, get some sleep."

Blaine nodded. It was a great idea. 

He drove a little further, stopping when they came to a run-down little motel off the side of the road.

"Classy," Kurt muttered, as Blaine pulled into the parking lot. He stopped the car up near the main entrance and pulled the keys out of the ignition.

Kurt was right, the place was classy, in the most sarcastic sense of the word. It was dimly lit by small lamps outside each door. The main door was lit by a what must have once been a neon red 'Vacancies' sign, but was now more of a faded orange. 

"Do you want to keep going?" Blaine asked Kurt. "I mean, it does look less than sanitary."

"That," Kurt stated. "Is a massive understatement, but no. It's only until morning. If we keep going, you're going to fall asleep at the wheel and have us both killed. I'm not sure even an Iratze can help a crushed skull."

Blaine laughed, weakly, still far too tired to tune in to everything around him. 

"Alright," he nodded and opened the door. 

They climbed out and Blaine watched as Kurt stretched like a cat, his arms above his head, his head thrown back in a yawn. He saw the hem of his dark shirt slipping upwards, a strip of his pale skin showing. Blaine looked away, quickly, a blush creeping up the back of his neck.

"Um," he said, flustered. "I'll go get some rooms, get whatever you need out of your four suitcases and I'll be right back."

"You're still not funny," Kurt called after him.

Blaine smiled, as he pushed the heavy door and went inside.

Inside was no different from outside. There was a small wooden desk with an opened door behind it and several keys hanging on hooks on a board on the wall. There was a dying plant standing by the door. Blaine thought it must have been green at some point, many, many years ago, but right now it was more straw than leaf. Behind the desk, sat a heavy set man. He was bald and wearing a stained tank top, which, much like the plant, must have been white a very long time ago, but was now more of an off-yellow. His eyes were too close together on either side of his cauliflower nose.

"What can I help you with?" he asked, not looking up from the newspaper he held.

"Uh," Blaine said. "Can I get a couple of single rooms? Just until morning."

He stood up now, his height sitting down not much different from when he stood up. He was also shorter than Blaine, which was always an added bonus. He was looking at a book now, intently, his eyes slitting.

"I've only got one room left," he spat out, literally spat out, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth down onto the book.

Blaine cringed and averted his eyes from the man.

"Um," he said, the urge to yawn coming over him once again. "I guess, it'll have to do."

He walked back outside, keys in hand. He saw Kurt standing by the car, studying his finger nails. Blaine admired how pristine he looked, even this late at night. His hair had found its way back into that trademark quiff, his dark shirt a perfect fit, not to mention those pants...

"Finally," Kurt said, standing up straight, knocking Blaine clean out of his reverie.

"Sorry," Blaine said, dazed. "They've only got one room. We can work it out, right?"

Kurt looked stunned for a moment, then allowed his eyes to drop back to their usual size, loosening his body, his hands going to the suitcase which stood next to him.

"Yeah, sure," he said, simply.

"Cool," Blaine said, yawning, as he reached inside the trunk and pulled out his bag. He closed it and locked the car before heading towards room 12.

Once inside, Blaine laid his bag down, while Kurt flicked the light switch.

"Wow, how homely," Kurt deadpanned, eyes travelling around the dark room.

The walls were covered in a lime green paint, chipped here and there, small cracks coming through near the grey (it had to have been white once) ceiling. The floors were wooden, luckily, because Blaine wasn't sure his stomach was strong enough to handle a carpet in this place. There was a small window next to the door, which looked as if it hadn't been cleaned, possibly ever. A wardrobe stood at the wall on the right hand side. The double bed lay in the centre, a small side table on either side. On the left, was a closed brown door, probably the bathroom and by the Angel, Blaine did not want to know what it looked like in there.

He dwelled on the fact that there was only one bed, cursing the guy at the reception desk, even though it wasn't really his fault. He saw Kurt chewing on his bottom lip as he stared at the bed.

"You're entirely comfortable with your sexuality, right?" Kurt muttered, eyes still on the bed.

Blaine spluttered a little, then composed himself. 

"Completely," he affirmed, but what that meant, he had no idea, because what did Kurt think Blaine's sexuality was?

"Good," Kurt whispered.

"Are you?"

"What?"

"Are you comfortable with your sexuality?" Blaine supplied.

Kurt just stared at him, open-mouthed, then stammered a little as he said, "Yes, but.. I'm.. I mean.." he trailed off, with a small shrug.

"You're gay," Blaine said, matter-of-factly.

"You know..?"

"Of course, I know," Blaine grinned, pretending this was not awkward at all, despite the fact that it really was. "Because I'm gay, too."

Kurt's eyes flashed, but he stopped himself, acting as if it was no big deal. Blaine just smiled.

"I don't mind sharing a bed with you, though," he told Kurt, then stopped, because, by the Angel, that sounded so perverted. "I mean— well. You know what I mean," he finished, too tired to go on and explain himself.

"I do," Kurt apprised him. "I'll be in the bathroom."

"Cool."

When Kurt came out, Blaine was already in the bed, in his night clothes. He'd spent a good ten minutes trying to decided whether or not to get inside, or wait until Kurt came back out, but finally decided on getting in, because having Kurt see him in his pyjamas would only make things even more awkward, if that was even possible.

Kurt was in his pyjamas now, too, which consisted of a tightly fitted white t-shirt and tightly fitted shorts. Blaine turned his eyes away, not wanting to have his body betraying him once Kurt got inside where he might possibly figure out what was going on beneath the sheets. He tried to think of disgusting things, like Ravenors and the Forsaken and the Raum demons' tentacles from a few days previously. 

"Is this really awkward?" Kurt asked, as he went towards the light switch.

"Absolutely," Blaine confirmed, before Kurt flicked the switch, leaving them in complete darkness, a small strip of moon light slipping in from the slightly ajar drapes on the window. 

"Good," Kurt uttered. "I thought it was just me that thought so."

Blaine held his breath while Kurt climbed inside the bed, moving to the side, farthest from Blaine.

"So long as you don't invite any Raums in here," Blaine said, smiling into the pillows. "We'll survive."

"Humor can be one of our best survival tools. Allen Klein," Kurt said, then, "Even though your humour isn't exactly side-splitting."

"You're in the habit of doing that, you know," Blaine told him.

He could feel the body heat spreading throughout the bed and it was nice, in a way, even if it wasn't supposed to be.

"Doing what?" Kurt asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"Reciting quotes," Blaine provided. "You did it earlier today and then twice tonight."

"Oh," Kurt said, quietly.

"It's not a bad thing," Blaine told him, gently, because he felt like he had offended him without meaning to. "I like that you've got all this information in your head. Some pointless, it has to be said, but it's still interesting."

Kurt shifted a little and Blaine hoped he wasn't going to move again, because body heat was only going to worsen the matters occurring in his nether regions.

"My mom used to read to me and after she died, I would read all the books in her library, over and over and I guess some of it just got stuck in my head," Kurt explained.

Blaine couldn't help noticing that Kurt's voice dropped a key when he spoke about his mom. He wondered what had happened to her, how she'd died. He felt it would be rude to ask, but maybe at some point along this journey, Kurt would tell him freely.

"So, you're sort of like a walking library," Blaine grinned. "It's always good to have access to a library, you know. I'm glad I've got you with me."

He felt the bed shake a little as Kurt laughed, small sounds escaping his throat.

"I thought I wasn't funny," Blaine interjected, still smiling.

"You're not," Kurt told him, but Blaine could hear the smile in his voice.

"Don't lie, the Angel knows you think I'm hilarious."

"Yeah, sure," Kurt said, not without sarcasm. 

"Methinks thou doth protest too much," Blaine said, rather tactfully, or so he'd thought at the time.

Kurt spluttered then, laughter racking his entire body and Blaine prayed to the Angel that he would stop moving like that.

"What?" Blaine asked, confusedly.

"The actual quote is 'The lady doth protest too much, methinks'," Kurt informed him, still laughing quietly.

"Oh," Blaine said, smiling because he really could be an idiot sometimes. "It's Hamlet, right?"

"Yes, but," Kurt was laughing again, now. "Drop it, I remain unimpressed by your knowledge, or lack thereof."

"'Wasn't trying to impress you," Blaine grinned, shifting slightly, because his foot was beginning to go numb. 

He felt Kurt's body go rigid as he moved, because the bed was not that big and movement meant their arms brushing.

"Sorry," Blaine muttered. "My foot fell asleep."

Kurt was laughing at him again, now and Blaine thought he could have listened to an entire album made up entirely of just Kurt's laughter.

"See, I'm totally funny," Blaine smirked, eyes on the dark ceiling above, his hands behind his head.

"Blaine, you don't understand," Kurt told him, between his laughter. "I'm not laughing with you, I'm laughing at you."

Blaine watched him in amusement as he continued to make those little 'aw' sounds as he came down from his laughter and God, those sounds were going to send him over the edge.

"Oh, well," Blaine shrugged with a smile. "As long as you're kept amused and not threatening to strike my face, that's a good thing, I guess."

"You're an asshole," Kurt told him, but Blaine could still feel his body convulsing with laughter.

"You don't know that," Blaine pointed out. "You hardly know me."

Kurt sighed a little then. "True," he agreed. "But I can tell how this entire trip is going to be."

"Book worm, head of knowledge and now a clairvoyant, too," Blaine teased, flipping onto his side. "How do we manage to converse?"

He realised then, that he was facing Kurt now, their eyes level. Kurt's eyes were interesting. It seemed like every time Blaine saw him, they were a different colour. At that moment, they were a pale grey, dilated and hypnotising. He could have happily stared into them forever.

"You talk too much," Kurt told him after a while.

"You've got beautiful eyes."

"What?"

Blaine's whole body stiffened then, realising he had said that out loud.

"Nothing," he said, cursing himself because, by the Angel, what kind of save was that?

"I think it's time we got some sleep," Kurt said, slowly. "We're getting ridiculous."

"Agreed," Blaine choked up, before turning back on his other side, away from Kurt. "'Night, Kurt."

"'Night, Blaine."

"Hopefully no Raums get in during the night," Blaine added, as a yawn flitted from the roof of his mouth, causing his eyes to water.

"You're still not funny."

"You've still got beautiful eyes."

Silence.

"Good night."

"Yeah," Blaine said, wondering what in the name of all that was holy he'd been thinking saying that again. He must have been really, really tired. "Good night."

They fell asleep almost instantly, taking comfort in the soft sounds of one another's breaths, their chests rising and falling in a steady rhythm, before the sleep took over, pulling them in and closing them off from the rest of the world, for just a short while, but it was enough.