Come on, son. Let's get you on the chesterfield before you fall over." Mr. Hummel guided Blaine to the sofa, his eyes taking in his pale skin and wide eyes. "Wait here a second."

Walking into the kitchen, Blaine could only hear some soft voices talking.

And then, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, was him. Kurt. Wide-eyed, rumpled hair and casual clothes, chest heaving like he'd run a mile.

Even after hearing his voice, Blaine still couldn't believe he was seeing him now. They both were frozen, gawping at each other, for several long heartbeats.

And then Kurt let out a stifled sob and was rushing towards him. Blaine stood up, taking a few steps, before Kurt crashed into his arms. Warm, vibrant, alive.

The world shrunk down to just this incredible man in his arms, and Blaine held him tight, his face tucked into his neck. Kurt, his body feeling perfect against him, his scent the same underlying mix of his shampoo, soap and whatever else made it so distinctly Kurt, mixed in with softer scents of the food he had been preparing. Blaine realized Kurt was shuddering against him, and he ran soothing hands up and down his back. Kurt was sobbing against him, and it didn't take much for Blaine to join him.

They sunk down onto the couch, arms still wrapped around each other like they may never let go, both crying. The emotions ran high, but eventually, they both eased off.

Kurt pulled back first, his large eyes red from the tears, wiping away the wetness on his cheeks with his hands as he looked at Blaine in wonder. Blaine gave him a wobbly smile back, wiping at his own face.

Kurt lifted a hand, cupping it along Blaine's jaw. His eyes went down to Blaine's lips, and then he leaned in closer, the lightest of kisses.

Blaine shook against him, his hands coming up to cup the back of Kurt's head. "I still can't believe it's you. Here. With me. Kurt."

"Me neither." Kurt whispered back, before dipping his head to give Blaine a proper kiss, long, deep and perfect. A kiss he had been dreaming of.

The sound of a cupboard door closing loudly made them stop, and jump back from each other slightly, finally aware of more than just the two of them.

"Kurt, I packed up a sandwich and an apple for my lunch and think I'm just going to wander over to the river to eat it there. Give you and your friend some time to catch up." Burt stepped into the living room from the kitchen, holding a paper bag.

He walked over to the front door and was doing up his shoes. "Mr. Anderson, I hope you will join us for supper. I'm sure my wife would like to meet you."

Kurt reached over and gave Blaine's hand a squeeze.

"Um... Yes, I'd like that, Mr. Hummel." Blaine said quickly.

Kurt's father looked between his glowing son and the man whose hand he was holding. "Please, call me Burt." He gave a little half-smile, and was gone.

With the click in the door shutting, Kurt launched himself at Blaine, pushing him back on the sofa to lie of top of him, sharing long, deep kisses until Blaine felt dizzy from lack of breath and pure happiness.

Sitting up slightly, he chuckled at the whining noise of complaint Kurt let out. "Kurt, this is incredible but I need to know what happened. I'm so confused."

Kurt pouted a bit, but he let Blaine sit up and make himself comfortable before scooting close and draping his legs over his lap and his arms around Blaine's shoulders loosely.

Sighing, Kurt dipped his face to Blaine's shoulder. "Well, OK, but only because I'm curious too."

"How did you survive? Last I saw you was when we got pulled apart by the crowd on the deck." Blaine had that image burned in his memory. Holding hands tightly, but losing their grip as the people pressed around them in all sides, panicked. Kurt's wide, blue eyes as he reached towards Blaine, trying to grasp his hand again, before being swept away with the crowd.

Nodding, Kurt bit his lip. "By then, most of the lifeboats were gone, and people realized they weren't going to have space for everyone. Real panic went through the crowd and I had to fight to move away from them and catch my breath. I looked for you, but couldn't see you anywhere."

Blaine stroked along Kurt's shoulder, trying to ease the tension he could feel in him at bringing up the awful memories. "I was looking for you too, trying to fight my way through the crowd."

"And then the ship started to really shift, you could tell it was being torn apart." Kurt's eyes were distant, reliving that night. "I was near a railing and there was a big lurching motion. I was suddenly in the water, and it was so, so cold."

Blaine was surprised, and nodded, wanting Kurt to continue.

"I'm a good swimmer, so I headed over to a deck chair that was floating nearby. It wasn't buoyant enough to support me fully, but I put it under my chest and swam over and found another one. Eventually, I had three deck chairs and I was a fair distance from the ship. It was really wobbly, but somehow I stacked them together and got on top." Kurt explained, playing with Blaine's shirt button.

Blaine was impressed at his actions. "No one else tried to take your chairs?"

Shaking his head, Kurt looked down. "By the time the ship sank, most people ended up in the ocean a fair distance from me. Many weren't good swimmers, and the cold water took most of them."

They held each other tight then, knowing it could so easily have been them.

"Somehow, I eventually ended up on a lifeboat. A lot of things are pretty hazy in my memories. The nurse at the hospital said it was due to the hypothermia." Kurt shrugged.

Blaine hugged him closer, kissing his cheek, his neck. It was incredible that Kurt had survived. "But I looked and looked at the lists of survivors in the newspapers, and never saw your name." He'd also checked the lists of dead people, cringing each time.

Kurt chuckled, rubbing his hands over his face and giving Blaine a find look. "That's because I ended up in a lifeboat with Charlie the Baker, and he must have given them my working name, Marcel Lapointe."

Blaine's eyes widened in understanding. He hadn't thought to check under the name Marcel. And Charlie the Baker was famous in the newspapers for a while. He had been a little drunk when the ship sank, but had stayed alive by treading water until the Carpathia came, about two hours later.

Giving his shoulder a little nudge, Kurt looked down at Blaine, his eyes serious again. "What about you? You weren't in the lists either. I read that Kitty and her mother survived, and that your father didn't, but no mention of you."

"I was in the hospital for so long, I don't really know what happened. Didn't realize I wasn't in there." Blaine said softly, feeling bad at Kurt's distress. All of this could have been prevented, so much angst and depression avoided.

Kurt's hands went over Blaine's shoulders. "How were you injured?"

Taking Kurt's hand, Blaine pressed it to a place a few inches from his left ear, under his hair. "Can you feel the bump there? Nurse said my skull was cracked and I'll always have this to remember it by."

"That must have been a hard hit to your head." Kurt said softly, his eyes concerned.

Blaine nodded. "I lost my footing when the boat lurched, and slid along the deck, trying hard to grab hold of anything. My leg whacked into something hard, and a little later, I crashed into something else and must have been knocked out."

Kurt's eyes were enormous. "What happening then?"

"Kitty said my father brought me to their lifeboat and begged for them to take me, take care of me." Blaine said, and then tucked his face into Kurt's neck. This time, his tears came for his father and his final actions. It was hard to reconcile what happened with the man Blaine had known, the loving gesture in his last moments with the detached man he had travelled with. Somehow, it made him grieve even harder, grieve for the man who he'd never gotten to know well enough. Had his father been satisfied that he'd saved his son and then turned to face his own death alone?

When Blaine had settled again, Kurt was stroking his back idly. "I still wonder that you weren't in the survivor lists though. Kitty and Mrs. Wilde would have given your name correctly."

Blaine shrugged, not sure of the answer. The disaster had been a chaotic time for so many, it was a wonder that he was able to get into a hospital and get the care he needed.

Shifting on the sofa, he gave Kurt a small smile. "Um, is there a washroom I could use?"

Kurt got off the sofa, holding a hand out to Blaine. "We're not as fancy as the Titanic or your hotel out here, I'm sorry to say. There's an outhouse in the backyard."

Nodding, Blaine got up and pressed a small kiss to Kurt's cheek as he passed.

When he got back to the kitchen, Kurt was bustling around. "I'm making some tea and reheating the soup. Have you had lunch?"

Shaking his head, Blaine smiled at the domestic scene and carried cutlery over to the kitchen table and set it out. They ate in comfortable silence, sharing many long looks and small smiles, the reality of everything really settling in.

After lunch, Blaine helped Kurt do the dishes and tidy up.

Smiling, Kurt took Blaine's dishtowel from his hands and hung it up to dry. He took Blaine's hand, and drew him out of the kitchen, past the living room, and up the stairs.

"Are you sure this is OK, Kurt?" Blaine whispered, his heart pounding in anticipation.

Kurt chuckled. "It's just us here now." He led Blaine into a small room with a single bed. "It's not much, but this is my room."

"It's perfect." Blaine said before pulling Kurt close. A private space with Kurt and a bed. It was heaven.

Their kisses were hungry and frantic, their desire having slowly built up as they were kissing and talking earlier. They were both impatiently stripping themselves and each other, just needing to be naked, skin on skin. The bed was narrow, but they didn't mind crowding close, naked and wrapped up together.

They were too aroused for any finesse, and when Kurt's hand wrapped around Blaine's erection, he quickly returned the favor. Quick strokes as they kissed, looking into each other's eyes, breaths intermingling. It didn't take long until they found their release, chuckling as Kurt reached for his undershirt to clean them up.

"I love you so much, Kurt." Blaine sighed, feeling completely truly happy for the first time since their last fateful day together.

Kurt's eyes glowed back with shared happiness. "I love you too, my dear sweet Blaine." He tucked his face against his chest, cuddling close. "So, what are you doing in Lima anyways?"

Blaine sighed, running his hands along the smooth skin of Kurt's back. Was it only a few hours ago that he was crying at Kurt's mother's grave over her son? It felt like weeks ago. "Mourning you, really. I was in the hospital for so long, and then busy trying to manage the hotel and the house. Taking care of everything my father had left behind, including my mother. I hardly had time to process everything that had happened."

Kurt nodded, pressing a small kiss over Blaine's heart. "It must have been overwhelming."

"Yes, and everyone thought I was down at times from the death of my father and the Titanic, but so much of it was about you. Missing you so desperately and not able to talk about you. Only Kitty kind of understood, although she didn't know the details." Blaine sighed.

Kurt looked up, his blue eyes meeting Blaine's hazel ones. "But how were you able to get away?"

Blaine explained getting Jeff and Nick's help at the hotel, and the trip to visit his brother. "Kitty encouraged me to take the time I needed. She knew I needed to mourn you."

"Are you engaged now? It sounds like she is helping you make so many decisions." Kurt asked with a neutral tone, but Blaine could sense the tension in his body. Kurt cared about the answer.

Blaine kissed him lightly, slowly. "I asked her to hold off until April before we make any plans." His eyes were on Kurt's. "I felt committed still to you... A year and a day..."

With a small cry, Kurt rolled over Blaine, cupping his face to kiss him thoroughly. Blaine wrapped his arms and legs around Kurt, kissing him back just as hard. Just needing to be close and to show his feelings hadn't changed. If anything, they were stronger than ever.

"Living without you these past few months, thinking you were dead, it was like I was half-dead, Blaine." Kurt said softly, tracing his fingers over Blaine's kiss-swollen lips. "More than ever, I know that I can't live without you."

This led to another bout of intense kissing, but eventually, Kurt rolled to the side and reached for his pocket watch, groaning at the time. "Everyone will be home soon. We better stop and make ourselves presentable."

Blaine took the watch from Kurt's hand, looking at it in wonder. "My watch still works, after being soaked in the ocean all that time?"

Kurt took it back with a chuckle and kissed it. "It needed some work at the watchmakers, but it's doing fine." He got out of bed and started getting dressed, much to Blaine's dismay.

"Kurt, is there any way you could come back to my hotel room tonight?" Blaine would have a hard time being separated from him again. He reached for his clothes and sat on the side of the bed to pull them on.

Picking up a comb from the dresser, Kurt combed Blaine's hair back into place, and then turned to the mirror to do his own. "I don't know, Blaine. I'm very, very tempted, but this is a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and it's impossible to keep secrets."

Blaine nodded, disappointed but understanding. "Could we go out to a show after dinner together?"

Kurt's eyebrows rose. "At the Vaudeville theatre? I know a lot of people there, Blaine."

"So, introduce me as a friend and we'll sit in the back row. I'll behave, I promise." Blaine went for puppy dog eyes, pure innocence.

Rolling his own eyes, Kurt pulled Blaine off the bed. "Hmmmm....we'll see."

---

They had gone to the Vaudeville theatre after dinner, and Kurt had introduced him as a friend visiting from New York. In the back row, Blaine had held his hand, his thumb gliding back and forth over his soft skin.

By the time the show ended, Blaine begged softly for Kurt to come back to his room for a bit. They had to do it discretely, entering separately. But once behind closed doors, they were naked in seconds. Hands and mouths were all over bared skin, touching, kissing and relearning. It didn't take long until they were lying under the sheets, limbs tangled and breathing going back to normal.

"Can you get away for a bit, Kurt?" Blaine asked, slightly embarrassed he hadn't asked Kurt what he was doing lately. "Do you have a job here?"

Kurt grinned, rolling over onto his back. "I've been working a little at the theatre on a casual basis, and helping around the house. I came here in April and nobody has pressured me to do much. My dad knew it was more than just the Titanic tragedy, but I didn't mention you."

Blaine took his hand, pressing a little kiss to the palm. "My family has a little cabin in upstate New York. It's really pretty this time of year, the trees turning colors and the lake..."

"What do you have in mind?" Kurt asked, his heart beating faster.

Blaine kissed the tip of each of Kurt's fingers lightly. "I was thinking we could have a week or two there, just the two of us, away from prying eyes. Time to get to know each other again, cook good food, go on long walks. There's a canoe and lots of nature. A fireplace and lots of books. A big comfy bed-"

Kurt cut off Blaine's words with a hard kiss, and leaned back, laughing. "You had me at 'books'."

Chuckling, Blaine cuddled him close. "Ahhh....now I know your weakness. Can we catch a train around noon tomorrow? Is that enough time for you to get ready?"

Nodding, Kurt captured his lips in a deep, long kiss, feeling happiness bubbling through him like the bubbles in champagne.

---

It was late and fully dark out by the time Kurt got home. The house was quiet, so he jumped when he heard a noise from the sofa.

"Kurt, come sit with me a minute." His father's voice was scratchy. He'd likely been napping as he waited up for Kurt.

Knowing this talk was going to be awkward, but also knowing there was no way out of it, Kurt reluctantly sat down beside his father.

Burt's eyes looked over Kurt thoroughly, taking in his flushed cheeks, his bright eyes, his swollen mouth and slightly mussed hair and clothing. Kurt blushed slightly under his gaze, and Burt nodded in understanding.

"Tell me about Blaine, Kurt. You never mentioned him in your letters to me." His voice was soft, not angry. Resigned.

Kurt's eyes rose to his father's, searching for the right words. "We only met briefly in Paris, and it was a surprise to see him on the Titanic." Funny to think they were together less than a week back then, everything added up. A week that changed his whole life.

"But you love him, and he loves you." Burt said, firmly.

Kurt tilted his head slightly, surprised at the words. He thought they had hid their feelings fairly well at dinner. "Um...I...um..."

Burt sighed, placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "I knew it within five minutes of meeting Blaine. You wouldn't have given your mother's scarf to just anyone. And I have the feeling his middle initial is 'D'."

Chuckling, Kurt pulled out the pocket watch, looking at Blaine's initials engraved inside and running a fingertip over them. "My father is a very wise man."

"That he is. So, how is this going to work, the two of you? I like him, Kurt, but you know things aren't easy." Burt's eyes were steady, concerned.

Kurt looked up at the ceiling, thinking, gathering his thoughts. "Blaine inherited a hotel from his father in New York. There is a possibility he could marry a society woman who is aware of me, and we could be together in many ways."

Even explaining this to his father made it feel cheap and sordid. Like he would Blaine's piece on the side, living in the shadows.

"Do you think you would be happy living like that?" Burt's eyebrows rose.

Kurt shrugged. "It's just one possibility. We are going away tomorrow for a week or so to discuss things, look at the options."

Burt was quiet for a minute, and then he gave a small laugh. "You are a man of twenty-five, and haven't lived at home for many years, and my gut reaction just now was to forbid your leaving and ground you for a month."

Kurt chuckled too. "Dad, I know you are feeling even more protective of me since Titanic. But that tragedy taught me how quickly your life can be snatched away. How important it is to find real love and happiness and hold into them tight with both hands."

Burt gathered Kurt into a long, tight hug. "I know, Kiddo. It will just be hard to see you go again so soon."

---

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Hypothermia: Someone with hypothermia often has symptoms of slurred speech or mumbling, confusion and poor decision-making, such as trying to remove warm clothes, drowsiness or very low energy, lack of concern about one's condition and progressive loss of consciousness.

Charles John Joughin was the chief baker aboard the RMS Titanic. He was off duty when he felt the iceberg hit the ship, and when he heard they were preparing the lifeboats, he sent his thirteen bakers up with provisions for the lifeboats, about forty pounds of bread each. He then helped with loading passengers into lifeboats, including forcibly grabbing women and children to throw into lifeboats if they foolishly thought the Titanic was safer than the lifeboats. After that, he went to his quarters and drank about half a tumbler-full of alcohol, and later went to B deck to throw about fifty deck chairs into the water to act as floatation devices. When the ship sank, he kept paddling and treading water for about two hours. He admitted to hardly feeling the cold, most likely thanks to the alcohol he had imbibed. (Large quantities of alcohol generally increase the risk of hypothermia - but there is also evidence to suggest that a certain level of alcohol can slow down heat loss and prolong survival in cold conditions.) Eventually, he was put on one of the collapsible lifeboats with only swollen feet. He continued to work on other ships until the end of WWII, and died at the age of 78.

Indoor plumbing became more common after WWI (in the 1920's) in working class homes.