The problem with someone hanging up on you, Blaine decided, is that you’re left with a decision – to call back or to let it go. And often, regardless of how you answer the question for yourself, it ends up being the wrong answer for the one who did the hanging up.

And, despite his bad puns and flower deliveries from their initial split, at the heart of it all, Blaine was not a chaser. No meant no meant no.

And Kurt clearly said no.

However, he also knew Kurt well enough that he didn’t mean no for good anyway – just for that conversation. For the feelings that were chewing them both up like the last scraps of a dog’s rawhide bone. Gnaw, gnaw, bite, smack, swallow, choke. Nothing was getting accomplished, so someone had to take it away. End it.

So that’s where Blaine left it. He didn’t call Kurt back. He didn’t text anything, including stupid puns. Instead, he made plans. And those plans brought him to where he was now. Dayton International Airport, just outside of security waiting for Delta flight 3876 to disembark.

He waited there holding a dozen orange roses. An orange rose started this whole thing – after the red vest, which would be silly in a bouquet of twelve. So. Orange roses. A dozen because that's what you do when you want to make a point. And he had a point to make.

He held the flowers to his nose and breathed them in as he watched families from other flights reunite. Some travelers had obviously been gone awhile while others were more seasoned, having either no one to greet them or a swift, non-emotional kiss from a weary partner. His favorite, of course, were the children anxiously awaiting the arrival of a parent. The running leaps, the sloppy kisses, the balloon bouquets and of course the requisite whadja buy me requests never ceased to make Blaine grin, missing the tug on his shirt tail from his honey-eyed boy.

But today was set aside for the grown-ups. Lieutenant Parker’s wife offered to take Adrian for a long-promised weekend over-night. Adrian was ecstatic and Blaine was…getting antsy. Kurt’s flight had landed fifteen minutes ago and this was a tiny airport.

Please tell me you didn't stay in New York.

As the last family made their way to baggage claim, Blaine peeked down the gateway one more time and there he was. Impeccably dressed, impeccably coiffed, impeccably stunning, reaching around his carry-on for what Blaine assumed was his phone.

With a ridiculous smile plastered over his face, Blaine watched him impatiently tug his scarf from his neck and hit a pre-dialed number, pressing the phone to his ear.

And Blaine’s phone buzzed in his back pocket.

He ignored it and bit his lip as Kurt’s face twisted in confusion and then, gloriously, spread into a huge grin when he spotted him, jumping a little and breaking out into a jog to get to the end of the gateway.

“Blaine!”

Kurt launched himself into Blaine’s arms, lifting his legs as they spun. To an onlooker, they’d been apart for weeks and weeks and really, with the mass-togetherness from Burt’s illness and death, the what comes next tension, and then the awful end of their communications from New York, it might as well have been weeks and weeks.

Blaine set Kurt on his feet, mashing their lips in wet, wordy kisses, apologies, I love yous and I missed yous littering in between. And then finally, after Kurt tried to explain in between kisses, his words interrupted by Blaine’s kisses, by his own clutching to be held, he summed it up in two short sentences, his eyes huge and clear, exposing his very soul.

“I’m just so scared. I can't lose you.”

“I know. So am I.” They stayed there for a long moment, searching for answers that wouldn't be found in an airport and finally Blaine took Kurt’s bag for him in exchange for the roses which Kurt began to sniff obsessively, as if maybe the answers were hidden between the apricot-colored petals.

And then Kurt peeked over the top of them, his brow furrowed and in worry. “Are you really? Scared?” At Blaine incredulous look, he scurried to continue. “I mean, you just seem so resigned.”

“Resigned to what?”

“The end.”

Blaine pulled the bouquet away from Kurt’s face and put it down on his bag, clutching Kurt’s lapel as he drew him in for a fierce kiss, hard and unfaltering, his eyes dark and driving home the certainty of it. “No. I’m not resigned. At all.”

“You’ve just been so distant and quiet and I’m still so wrapped up in Dad and I don’t know how to think without him here and I still have to work and figure out what everyone fucking wants from me and I should probably just shut up.” A breath and then, "God, I'm so fucking tired."

“Honey, stop.” Kurt continues to babble – see? Even you want me to stop but I don’t know which way is up or if maybe down is better and I’m so – and Blaine quiets him with a kiss, repeated again and again until Kurt softens against him, his words melting into silence. “Kurt. Do you trust me?”

“With my life. Which is why I’m so scared. I can’t do this with…”

Blaine put a finger to Kurt’s lips smiling softly as Kurt smiled back, sweet and pleading. “…then here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to walk you to your car and you’re going to get in and wait for me to pull around in mine. Then, you’re going to follow me.”

“Where are we going?”

Blaine huffed in impatience and picked up Kurt’s bag, handing him the bouquet of roses again. He started walking to the parking lot, moving ahead regardless of Kurt’s decision to follow him.

“Trust you. Right.”

***

“Kurt, if you ring this phone one more time, I’m taking us all the way home.”

“There is absolutely nothing in Sidney Ohio, Blaine.”

“That you know of.”

“Is this a Serpent Mound type field trip because so help me god…”

“I thought you said you trusted me.”

“I do, but you’re a dad and we’ve already decided that dads are hair-brained, and….”

Blaine fell silent as Kurt rambled, more for checking his directions than for ignoring Kurt’s whining. Because while he was acting irritated, it all was quite comical. In the 45 minute drive, Kurt had called five times. Or maybe six. He stopped counting after three. “Okay, I need to concentrate so I’m hanging up.”

“That building on the left is pretty.”

“It’s the courthouse. Hanging up…”

After a few more turns, they ended up following a street that dumped right to the front of their destination. Blaine lead Kurt into the deteriorating driveway and now wished, more than any other moment on the journey from the airport, that Kurt was in the car with him. His tires crackled over the stone drive, the car wobbling over the uneven surface almost sighing as it came to a stop. By the time he was unbuckled, Kurt was out of his car, gazing, gaping, gawking, bouncing on his toes like a child on Christmas morning.

“Blaine! This is beautiful! Who knew? What’s the name again? I was too busy ogling to notice.”

“Great Stone Castle. We only have tonight, but…” He slipped an arm around Kurt’s waist and unwrapped his scarf, nuzzling into his neck for a kiss. “…do you approve?”

“I do! Oh my god, this is…wait. I’m out of clothes.”

“I brought some for you. Come on. Let’s check in.”

***

They finally got to their room, no thanks to the well-meaning clerk who was having difficulty wrapping his head around the idea that it was more than okay that, as two men, the three rooms in the bed and breakfast had only one bed and that their reservation was for just one room. Two men. One bed.

To help bring the point home, Blaine had to plant a big wet one on Kurt’s lips. Kurt, whose initial excitement was turning into huffy irritation right before Blaine’s eyes. He had clearly seen enough of the well-appointed and overly decorated common room and reception area. It was time to go.

The room was lovely - for a 1980's style "Victorian" room that was simply trying too hard. But the best part, what would be Kurt’s favorite part, was that it was a tower room and the three large windows that formed the interior curve of the tower housed the bed, both cocooning it with the curvature of architecture, and exposing it to the wooded area surrounding the facility.

Kurt strolled in and dumped his bags by the door walking straight to the windows, running his fingers along the fabric of the duvet and carved wood headboard of the bed. “You know, I tend to forget that Ohio has some beautiful places to visit too.”

“It’s easy to do.” Blaine walked up behind Kurt breathing him in before helping him slip off his overcoat and tossing it over the back of the desk chair with his. “We have a few hours before they serve dinner.”

Kurt turned from the window and leaned into Blaine’s hand as he caressed his cheek, kissing the pad of this thumb when he passed it across his lips. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Because I love you. Because I hate how the last week has felt and I thought maybe, away from all of our stressors, we could lay everything out. Stop questioning where our hearts are in the midst of grief, of geography, of…life.”

“My heart is always with you. There is no question.”

“You’ve questioned mine, Kurt. And I don’t ever want you to question how desperately I love you.” Blaine hooked his fingers around Kurt’s tie and pulled him in for a kiss, sure and sweet, his tongue tracing the path of his thumb moments before.

“Make love to me.”

Blaine smiled and loosened Kurt’s tie, making quick work of his buttons, kissing skin as it peeked out from the confines of his shirt. “You stole my line.”

Kurt chuckled, then hissed as Blaine laved at his nipple through his undershirt, wetting the fabric as Kurt fumbled with his sleeve buttons, finally freeing himself of both. “We’ll work on it together.”

And they did, a perfectly orchestrated dance that only they knew. Only they shared. After weeks of comfort sex, of make-me-feel-so-I’m-not-numb sex, of make-me-numb-so-I-don’t-feel sex, of sex for all sorts of reasons separate from Kurt and Blaine, they returned to the start where it was just the two of them. There was no purpose but to love. No problems being solved, no ghosts being exorcised, nothing to prove, because no one mattered but them.

As Kurt slid into Blaine, tight and hot, two becoming one in body, in voice, in thought and heart, Blaine held onto Kurt as though he might float away. As though their months together might really be a figment of his imagination. As though surely, no one this good, this perfectly imperfect, this beautiful could be his.

But he was. It was Blaine’s name Kurt mumbled and called out in moments of bliss and ecstasy. It was Blaine’s body Kurt kissed and surrounded, caressed and sunk into. It was Blaine’s bed that was warm with the scents of lavender and cinnamon massage oil or Kurt’s distinct cologne. It was his son that healed more every day because of the love Kurt showed him, of the bond only the two of them shared. This gorgeous man, now lowering from above him to nuzzle in his neck and gently suck and press at the skin there – was his.

And that was a fact he never wanted to lose sight of. Never wanted to toss aside because of geography or logistics, common sense or finances. He didn’t have answers for their future, but he had Kurt for their present. And surely, that was enough to let everything else fall into place.

***

They cuddled under the sheets, napping and mapping each other’s bodies in kisses and touches, reacquainting themselves with the nuances of touch that made the other quiver. Like the fact that Kurt’s right nipple was much more sensitive than his left and that the left side of his neck was much more sensitive than his right. Or that Blaine’s nipples really didn’t respond to fingers at all, but put a wet tongue on them and you found a bee-line to his cock. And that sucking on his right big toe had the exact same effect. Not his left. Just his right. “You might as well be sucking my dick.”

“I could do that too.”

“Not at the same time. You’re not that good.”

“You’re just not that flexible.” And then Kurt would nibble his way up Blaine’s leg and treat his ass, his balls, his cock with such luxurious care that Blaine would forget he even had toes.

It was after all of those things that Blaine found himself staring at Kurt, tracing the lines of his face, memorizing each individual strand of hair that framed that face, as Kurt drifted in and out of light sleep. When his lashes flickered open, Kurt greeted him with a sleepy smile and a blush. “You’re getting vampire creepy on me, Blaine.”

“I thought you were Team Jacob.”

“My point exactly.”

“I just have a hard time believing you’re real sometimes.”

“And now you’re just being ridiculous.” Kurt moved to sit up, but Blaine pulled him back down.

“No. Stay. I like being tangled together.”

Kurt snuggled back in and kissed the tip of Blaine’s nose. “You’re all mushy gooshy today.”

“I’m trying to make up for making you feel like I wasn’t in this anymore. And trying to figure out how I did it. I clearly have no idea what I’m doing. Still.”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“But it does. I don’t want to do that again. I want…” Blaine stopped and flopped on his back, a speech bubbling up inside of him. One worthy of a ceiling stare because he wasn’t sure he’d get it all out otherwise. “Kurt, no one in my life has what we have. My parents tolerate each other at best; my grandparents hate each other at worst. Coop avoids relationships because he’s seen their nightmares and Maggie – well, she never found it. I’ve never seen this. Not up close anyway and I’ve surely never felt it. I didn’t even know I was missing it until you took my pulse and brought me to this magical place of you and now I’m not sure if I can breathe without it. And it scares the shit out of me. So, I’m probably going to fuck up again.”

“Blaine…”

“I mean it, Kurt. I like clear, concise pictures of what’s expected of me. Of what to do to make life work. And you’ve come in and blended all the colors and I see how beautiful life is like that except now that it’s shaded and hued, when it’s time to figure things out, I feel like I’m drowning. I don’t even know what I did or didn’t do that made you feel like I was…what’d you say? Resigned. Resigned to the end.”

“Yeah, about that…”

“Kurt, I don’t even see an end. I just…I know there’s a road on the other side? I just don’t know which way it goes.”

“And I’ve been passive aggressive about what I want to hear, so. No wonder you’re…I’m sorry.”

“What do you need to hear from me?”

“The truth. What you want. What you need. How I can make you happy. How I can keep you in my life. Promises that we’ll never have to figure out how to breathe without each other." He took Blaine's hand from its flailing and emoting and held it close to his chest. "You know – nothing big.”

Blaine turned to face Kurt, tracing the outline of his face as though it was a rare painting. “I don’t know the words for all of those things. I know them to be true. I just don’t know how to tell you. All I see right now are facts and figures. Dollar signs and statistics – just like when your dad was sick and that’s all you could deal with. I can’t get beyond it. It’s the only way I know how to solve shit. I fact it until it submits.”

“Are you a closet accountant because I dated an accountant once and he was the most uninteresting person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

“How was he in bed?”

“Same.”

“Does that answer your question?”

“It does. Thank you. Not an accountant.”

“Glad to clear that up.”

Kurt reached up to Blaine’s face and kissed him, soft and slow, pulling back to melt into his eyes, brushing his thumb against the soft curve of his cheek. “Those facts and figures are important. They are, but they’re just details. The crap you work out later on. And if you’re worrying about the details, you’ve already figured out the answer.”

“I have?”

“You’re just fighting it.”

“You should know, Mr. I’m Going to Make Him Suffer for Weeks While I Figure Things Out.”

Instead of teasing back Kurt simply smiled, pulling them both up to sit, the flowery sheets falling precariously around their naked bodies. “Blaine. It's really very simple."

"Yeah?"

"Come with me to New York.“

Blaine chuffed and his eyes darted, chasing the statistics and numbers and mortgages and upheavals as they taunted his every argument. So Kurt went on.

“You know what facts I learned on this trip?”

“What?”

“New York City? They have fires there. And you know what else? They have firemen that put those fires out.”

“Kurt.”

“And do you know what else they have in New York City? Schools. Some of them are very good. I’d bet that many of them would take a smart kid like Adrian and teach him math and reading and history and art.”

Blaine didn’t even try to say anything because it was clear Kurt was in the middle of a point – a point that wasn’t going to be stopped until it came to its natural conclusion.

“And, they have parks. Brooklyn has some beautiful parks if you don’t think Manhattan has enough. They have museums and theaters and dance studios. In fact, I might go out on a limb and say that there’s more for Adrian in New York City than there is in Lima Ohio. Or Findley. Or Columbus. Put together.

“Look, I know the world will say it’s too soon. And I know it’s insane. And I know that Nana isn’t in New York and she’s a huge part of your lives and I know that you just started a mortgage and Adrian just lost his mom and then his life in Findley and I know I’m asking the entire world of you, but Blaine. You. You and Adrian. You are my entire world now. I have my work, which is my blood, but you…are my heartbeat." He paused to take a breath – the slightest of breaths because he didn't have to reconsider one word. "Come. With. Me.”

Blaine leaned back against the headboard and wiped his hands down his face, daring to look at Kurt, who met him with such trusting, expectant eyes he wanted to scream. “Please don’t take my silence as a rejection. I’m not closing any doors.”

“I know you’re not. And I’m sorry I went that direction before. It wasn’t fair.”

“I love you.”

“I love you. And I don’t expect an answer right now. We have four months. We have time. I don’t even have to have an apartment figured out once March rolls around – they said I could stay at Kenmare for a few more months after that. So, there’s no rush. We can…we talked about taking Adrian in December. Let’s do that. We can call it a trial or we can just call it a holiday. Because either way, Christmas in New York is glorious.”

“He’d love it.”

“And we’ll come back in time for Santa to come to his house too. Can we just…can we just be and enjoy and soak up these four months while we’re figuring it all out?”

“Yes. You might need to remind me.”

“It will be nice to be distracted over the holidays. This is the first time Christmas has crossed my mind that I haven’t started to cry.”

“It’ll be a hard one. Last year was miserable for us.”

“We’ll get through it together.”

“You’d be happy in Brooklyn?”

“I’ve done my time in the city. I’d rather be in Brooklyn with you and Ade than in the city alone.”

“What about Queens?”

“It’s possible. Just…not Jersey. I have my limits.”

“Aw, now. Joisey is just mis-un-duh-stood, babe.”

“I will not live in Jersey.”

“What’d Jersey ever do to you?”

“Snookie. I dressed up as Snookie for Halloween my senior year. I’m still suffering from PTSD. I will not live in Jersey.”

“Do you have pictures? Wait? Did you have the tits?”

“Did I have the…seriously Blaine? And no pictures. Not that you’ll ever see anyway.”

“It can’t be worse than Riff Raff.”

“It is-…hey! I was a hot Riff Raff!!!”