"Alright, hourly Speedo check! Everybody out of the water!"

"Oh for god's sake, who gave Santana a fucking megaphone?" Kurt kisses Blaine on the nose before stepping back from their water embrace, blindly following Santana's ridiculous commands.

"Sylvester's graduation gift to Nini." Blaine whines as his feet hit the bottom of the pool, having been happily bobbing around the water with his legs lazily draped around Kurt's hips. "And why are we doing what she says anyway? This is my house - my pool."

"Ingrained fear. I hear a voice barking from a megaphone and I just obey."

"Ooh. Is that all it takes?"

With a humored glare, Kurt steps up the sandy incline out of the pool in front of Santana, pointing at his very-much-still-on swim trunks. "Can I go back and play now, Mommy?"

"I haven't seen Maynard, yet-- ah. There he is. Sexy legs, May. Missed seeing them this summer."

"Oh, shut up. And give me that megaphone. No more Speedo checks until we have bikini checks too. Equal opportunity sexual misconduct monitoring for all."

Santana is fast, keeping the megaphone one movement ahead of Blaine, finally tossing it to Brittany. "Oh, honey – don't you know, it's legal to go topless in Ohio."

"I'm talking bottoms."

Santana grins and wags her fingers at Brittany to get the megaphone back, clicking it on when she gets it. "Ladies and gentlemen. Blaine Maynard Anderson is talking bottoming. Full story after the local fireworks at 11."

Blaine side-eyes Kurt who is already chuckling. Before prom that spring, there had actually been a betting pool among their friends on who topped and who bottomed. Kurt and Blaine ended up with the money when Tina shut it down, realizing they were enjoying the speculation more than the others were enjoying the joke. It paid for a very nice hotel room after prom.

Where Blaine topped.

And then Blaine bottomed.

And then they showered and slept and sexed and lost track because no one cares less than they do.

"Give me the megaphone, Snix. You are not to be trusted." Blaine yanks it away and takes Kurt's hand, leading him to the scattered blankets laid out for the fireworks.

It's July 4th – their last, forever, final summer party. It started with the afternoon parade, the graduated seniors watching, singing their parts as the band marched by, and is ending here at Blaine's house for the party. The SnixxyMay team handily won the chicken tournament, Sugar's pasta salad won the unofficial "Best Side Dish" award and Artie has kept the party rolling by surreptitiously adding vodka to the lemonade pitcher every time Mrs. Anderson comes out to refill it.

There are fireworks to be watched, and, in light of the fact that no one's done anything particularly dumb yet, there is more spiked lemonade to be consumed.

Kurt grabs two cupfuls on the way to the blankets and hands one off to Blaine before sitting down. "Oh." Kurt swallows thickly. "It's a strong batch."

"I can't believe Mom hasn't noticed yet."

"She has – she's drinking it too. Haven't you seen her?"

"No?" He looks up just in time to see her stumble back into the house. "Oh god. Mom's blotto."

"Eh, just a little wobbly. Leave her be. She's had a hell of a year."

Blaine sets his cup down, making sure it's balanced and picks a few clovers and thick blades of grass before lying back to rest his head in Kurt's lap. "She's okay now. I'm okay now." He ties the leaves to the clover stem and blindly grabs for a few more, looking up to Kurt with a contended grin. "Thanks to you."

"Mmm, I'd say thanks to everyone here. Nothing like walking into someone else's family—"

"It was easy. You all just welcomed me like some long lost relative." Blaine ties clover and grass blades together, more and more, scooting over to let Mercedes and Tina join them.

"Whatcha making, Blainers?" Tina lifts her lemonade cup to Mercedes they knock them together, chugging them back as though it's water. "Good god, that's good."

"Remember the last day of band camp? Kurt made me a clover wreath and after I sort of ruined the day, I swore I'd make him one to make up for it."

"Blaine..." Kurt combs his fingers through Blaine's hair. "You don't have to—"

"Hush. It's a promise I made to myself and we never practiced on grass again, so—" A clover pops off the stem and he huffs, smiling as one magically appears in front of his face again. "Thanks, Tina."

"So, we know you guys are headed to OSU – how have summer sessions been going?"

"Oh my god, you think Jonesy is tough. How many laps do we run to start practices, Maynard? About 10?"

"Easily. I'm ready to go home before we even start playing."

"Yeah, but then we start playing—"

"And everything changes."

Mercedes chuckles at the dreamy-eyed boys. "You think you'll make it? Two trumpets from one school is sort of unheard of, isn't it?"

"Yeah, and what if you don't? What're you going to do?"

"Take our scholarships and get a decent education before we head to New York." Kurt shrugs and takes another drink. "But we're going to make it."

"I'm trying out for effer, so that helps – a lot less competition off the top." Blaine pulls his string of clover and grass back and grins, taking another clover from Tina and tying it on. "No sense focusing on what-if-we-don't. We just have to kill it and make sure we do."

"Effer? What the fuck is an effer?" Sam and Mike plop down on the blankets, stealing the remainder of Tina and Mercedes drinks to great protest from the girls.

"E-flat trumpet. Sort of like the piccolo of the brass band."

"Ah, so now you can really nail those high notes?" Sam belches and slams down the empty cup. Mercedes starts to grouse, but there is a skirmish by the pool and Quinn is up on her feet angrily pointing at Rachel – their conversation too intensely quiet to hear.

"Oh hell." Blaine sits up and catches Artie's eye. "My phone – right by you. Bring it over here."

Artie grabs Blaine's phone and rolls his chair to the group, all staring across the pool at Quinn, Rachel and Finn.

Santana and Nini stop making out in the pool long enough to watch.

Puck swears as he searches under thrown clothes and towels to locate his phone. "Sweet!"

He points it at the trio and Blaine cracks up. "We're such a supportive group."

Kurt chuckles and bites his lip. "How much has Rachel had to drink?"

"I think she's had a cup glued to her hand all afternoon. You missed the screechy-loud Rachel when you and Blaine were helping Mrs. A in the kitchen – which I might suggest wasn't a good lie seeing as no one saw you in the kitchen. What's next?" Artie snaps his wheelchair locked and leans in as far as he can to see if he can hear the heated conversation between the two girls.

"Horny-I-want-Quinn Rachel. Blaine, tell me your phone isn't being a dick and is actually taking pictures."

"It is not being a dick. We're all doing that just fine."

"Even after graduating, we're all a big bag of dicks." Kurt leans in as Quinn leans in to Rachel, almost knocking Tina off her perch on her knees. "What the fuck are they saying?"

And then, no one cares because Quinn wraps her hand around the back of Rachel's neck and pulls her in for a hard, dirty, all-tongue and no finesse kiss. Whoops and hollers ring around Blaine's back yard which only spurs Quinn on, pulling Rachel in full, cupping her other hand over the curve of her ass until she finally pulls back with a loud, wet, popping smack.

"Okay, Rachel? Is that what you wanted? You good now?"

"Oh my fucking god, Kurt – check out your brother."

Quinn continues her diatribe while Rachel stands stunned, her hand quivering, brown eyes bugged, mouth agape. "You gonna let this little fantasy of yours go?"

Kurt follows Blaine's direction and laughs, covering his mouth with his hand. "He doesn't know whether to be pissed off or turned on. Poor guy."

"Truth be told, I think I'm sort of turned on."

Santana whoops and does a flip in the water, going back to making out with Brittany. And Blaine follows her with his camera. "You know what would have been even hotter?"

Kurt leans in to look over Blaine's shoulder, watching the view in his camera. "Snix and Q. Every time."

"Fuck yeah." Blaine leans back and drops his camera, curling a hand back around Kurt's neck to pull him in for a kiss – wet, sloppy, tongue-y.

Sam groans and gets up, grabbing Mercedes and pushing Artie away with him. "Folks, we need to find us some companionship."

"Get me to Sugar – she gives great lap dances."

"Dude. Can you even feel that shit?"

"Dude. I feel it where it counts – now get me to that woman. She's looking lonely."

Blaine breaks free and spins around, grabbing his clover chain to finish one more tie, making it into a wreath. "Here. You can be the prince of the party."

"Blaine..."

"Okay, you can be my prince." Kurt rolls his eyes, but Blaine presses on. "Shut up and let me put it on you. I wore mine for an entire damned day without complaint."

"You did. You looked adorable."

"I also fucked it all up, so—" Blaine rests the wreath on Kurt's head, pulling tendrils of damp hair through the blades to get it to stay. He leans back to check over his work, noticing Mike and Tina are watching them too. "How's it look?"

"Royal. All bow to Prince Kiki."

Kurt looks up and pats at his crown, smiling. "I think I could get used to this."

"Oh no. What have I created?"

With a chuckle and a quick eye to make sure Mike and Tina have turned their attentions back to themselves, Kurt cups Blaine's cheeks in his hands and just like every time when Kurt looks at him like this – like he can't believe he's real – Blaine finds breathing difficult. "This smile. You've created this smile. And it's all yours."

"OH MY FUCKING GOD, DON'T JUST TOSS THE GOD DAMNED SPENT MATCHES ON THE GRASS, YOU JACKASS."

"And, we're brought back to reality. Jesus." Blaine kisses Kurt's nose and turns to the back of the yard where Puck is now hopping up and down while Finn fumbles around, trying to pick up something from the grass, mumbling apologies in between fits of laughter.

"Who gave Beavis and Butthead matches and access to almost-legal fireworks?" Santana falls onto the blankets in between Kurt and Blaine stretching like a cat, slow and seductive cracking up when she looks up to see them gawking. And swallowing thickly.

"Careful. Your Kinsey numbers are plummeting, boys."

"And you're soaking our blanket. Get a towel."

"No. This is too entertaining." She pulls her hand over her hair and flips the collected moisture in Kurt's face, batting her eyes in apology. "Maybe he'll start a fire and we can see how incompetent Lima City's new chief really is."

"Oh, let's not, huh? Blaine's barely been here a year – we don't want to burn down his house yet, do we?"

Blaine has no idea what they're talking about, so he situates himself in front of Kurt who opens his legs to cradle Blaine's body, gearing up for the real fireworks that should start any minute. "The guy made it to chief – he can't be that bad, can he?"

"Didn't you hear? Two weeks into his new position, he starts a kitchen fire at the station. $2 million in damage."

"Oh. Hell. That's – unfortunate."

"Hey, wait a minute – he showed up around the same time you did, Maynard. Chief Anderson, no less."

"Ander—Snix. Anderson is like the 10th most popular last name in America. I don't know him."

Santana huffs and waves Brittany over to snuggle in for the real show, everyone quickly following, plopping down in various groupings and piles. "Stick with that story. The dude's a mess."

Finn and Puck give up on their purchased fire power and join the party, avoiding Rachel as though she has a disease. Kurt looks for Rachel and finds her with Mercedes unaffected and happy. "Apparently, he chose to be pissed."

"Pity – he's missing out on a rich fantasy life."

"Mmm. Even better when your reality beats any fantasy."

"Much."

The fireworks begin and after the first few go off with everyone snarking ooohs, and aaahs, they settle into quiet, the pop and hiss, boom and spray of the display a perfect soundtrack to close out this wonderful evening with friends.

About halfway through the show, Blaine turns his head to kiss at Kurt's neck. "Let's get in the water."

Kurt stands without a word, pulling Blaine up, ignoring the commentary from Santana – it's simply to be expected any more.

But, Finn is following them. "Hey, guys. You see Rachel anywhere?"

Blaine looks around and grins when he sees her. "Yeah. Over there. See that pile under the red blanket?"

"What is she—"

"Looks like she found another make-out buddy, fella." Blaine hits him on the arm and takes Kurt's hand to make a running jump into the deep end of the pool.

The first thing he hears when they resurface is enough to make him want to dunk back underwater, never to return.

"Oh my god, you guys!! Why didn't anyone tell me Quinn was such an amazing kisser. Finn, I forgive you for never keeping your hands off of h—" Her announcement is cut short when Quinn's hand pops up from underneath the blanket and yanks her back.

"Shut the fuck up, Berry. Don't talk. Just kiss."

Fireworks continue to go off from the high school, perfectly viewed over the trees lining the Anderson property. And Blaine has had enough togetherness. Enough band. Enough family and friends. He watches one more explosion of red and green and blue and jumps on Kurt, knocking them both backwards into the water, miraculously finding his lips and kissing him senseless as they float back to the surface.

"Sorry – Rachel was simply inspirational."

"Seeing two squirrels bump into each other is inspirational to you." Kurt huffs and flips his hair back, but the smile, while unseen in the dark, is still heard in his tone. And then it's felt as he goes for Blaine himself, lip to lip, hip to hip, water sloshing around them as they move and get comfortable again to let the water lighten Kurt's load as he holds Blaine around his waist.

Blaine looks up and grins, picking a loose clover off of Kurt's wreath. "You lost your crown."

"That's okay. Just so I don't lose you."

"Never."

"That's an awful long time."

"I know. It's going to be fantastic."

~~~**~~~

Blaine [08-25-12 3:03am]: Are you awake, babe?

Kurt [08-24-12 3:06am]: Sort of. Slipping in and out. You okay?

Blaine [08-24-12 3:07am]: Can't sleep. Too revved up. Still in a state of shock.

Kurt [08-24-12 3:08am]: Yeah, I know. I am too.

Kurt [08-24-12 3:08am]: We made it, Maynard. OSUMB.

Blaine [08-24-12 3:09am]: And in a week we're going to be in that stadium again. WITH them. I don't think I'm ever going to sleep again.

Kurt [08-24-12 3:11am]: Oh honey, sleep. Your eyes get all dark and stormy when you're tired.

Blaine [08-24-12 3:12am]: I thought you liked dark and stormy.

Kurt [08-24-12 3:13am]: Ha. I like your eyes in any state. I like your everything in any state, come to think of it.

Blaine [08-24-12 3:14am]: Don't start something you can't finish. I'm also horny as hell.

Kurt [08-24-12 3:14am]: You're always horny as hell.

Blaine [08-24-12 3:15am]: Speaking of, you still coming over to help me pack tomorrow?

Kurt [08-24-12 3:15am]: Yes. I need to get out of here anyway. Carole's all weepy that this is our last weekend home.

Blaine [08-24-12 3:16am]: And all we want to do is GET.OUT.

Kurt [08-24-12 3:17am]: Aren't you a little scared?

Blaine [08-24-12 3:18am]: I'm a lot scared. I still want out. I don't like Mom's new boyfriend at all.

Kurt [08-24-12 3:18am]: Yeah, he has an amplified creepy factor.

Kurt [08-24-12 3:20am]: What if our roommates suck?

Blaine [08-24-12 3:21am]: We're two floors away from each other. Lots of visits.

Kurt [08-24-12 3:22am]: Still can't believe we ended up in the same dorm, too.

Blaine [08-24-12 3:35am]: I fell asleep. Time to say goodnight, Gracie.

Kurt [08-24-12 3:27am]: I love you, Mr. X Row Effer.

Blaine {08-24-12 3:28am]: I love you too, Mr. T Row Trumpet. OMFG, Kurt!!!

Kurt [08-24-12 3:29am]: I know. I know. So happy to be doing this with you.

Blaine [08-24-12 3:30am]: Everything. You and me. The two of us. We're gonna kill it.

Kurt [08-24-12 3:31am]: You know, Snix told me during marching season that if we ever got our shit together, we'd be unstoppable.

Blaine [08-24-12 3:32am]: Snix is a genius.

Kurt [08-24-12 3:33am]: Goodnight, Gracie.

Blaine [08-24-12 3:34am]: Goodnight.