The next morning Kurt rose later than he had in years. He stretched in his bed languidly and forced himself of out the soft sheets and into the bathroom.

Since he took a late shower yesterday he decided to forgo one this morning. After all, they were going horseback riding and were bound to get covered in dirt and sweat; talk about a lost cause. He quickly brushed his teeth and ran a wet comb through his hair before throwing on pair of skinny jeans and county fair t-shirt from the year before his mother died.

He was couldn't decide how he felt about still fitting in a shirt he had from elementary school.

He grabbed a pair of worn tennis shoes and a pair of socks and carried them downstairs, dropping them next to his chair in the kitchen.

Blaine was already awake and talking quietly with Carole, sipping on glassed of iced tea. He could hear the television on in the other room and recognized the sounds as the other half of the game his father and Finn had missed yesterday. The radio was playing in the background, Stevie Ray Vaughn's Pride and Joy playing quietly.

He smiled and sat at the table, smiling in thanks when his stepmother placed a cup of coffee in front of him as he idly hummed the chorus. "Thanks," he croaked, voice rusty from disuse. He playfully pushed Blaine's shoulder with an ineffectual glare. "Why did you let me sleep so late?"

"You obviously needed it," the shorter boy replied before glancing over at his stepmother slyly. "And besides, I wanted to talk to Carole."

"About what?" he asked, looking at the two of the suspiciously.

Carole reached across the table and patted his hand before she walked over to the over. "Nothing, honey. You're just being paranoid."

Her wink to Blaine didn't help matters. "Uh-huh," he said drolly.

The curly haired boy tried to hide his chuckles with his glass but Kurt noticed anyway. He was distracted when Carole placed a plate of French toast in front of him with a jug of thick maple syrup. "This looks great, Carole. Thanks!"

She nodded and smiled happily as the slender boy dug into his breakfast with gusto. "So, I hear you boys are going horseback riding."

Kurt nodded around a mouthful of custardy bread. "Yeah, I haven't been in a while, and Blaine for even longer. Did you want to come?" he offered.

"Oh, no," she said with a laugh. "I tried a few times in college and once more after Finn had been born and it's not for me. I have no sense of balance and I was in pain for days. You boys have fun."

Kurt just nodded and beamed at his stepmother, thinking how well suited she was for his father. He loved his mother and would operate under the belief that his parents had been soul mates, but that was no reason for his father to be alone for the rest of his life.

No matter how hard he and his mother had tried, they could never convince Burt to ride a horse. Kurt sensed that there was some embarrassing childhood story there, but he had never found out the reason.

The horses in the barn got plenty of exercise thanks to the riding lessons they were used for, taught, to this day, by his grandmother and a young mother of two that was a former Equestrian competitor. His grandmother had offered to give him lessons for years, but Burt staunchly (yet politely) refused.

He finished up his breakfast and washed his plate off before putting it away. He turned back to Blaine and took in his pajama-clad form and raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Are you going to change anytime today? I'm ready when you are," he teased.

Blaine smiled sheepishly and chugged the last of his tea before bounding up the stairs. Kurt takes his place at the table again to wait for his friend to change (and try to tame his hair, even though Kurt stole the bottle of emergency gel out of his carry on and hid it under his mattress).

"So," he said, turning to Carole. "If we can't convince you to come riding with us, what are your plans for the day?"

She smiled and glanced towards the front porch, eyes falling on the swing hanging to the far left side. "I think I am going to get one of the books I brought and enjoy a quiet day of reading. Maybe grab one of the lounge chairs I saw around the side of the house and lay out in the sun."

"Sounds great," Kurt replied, hoping that he and Blaine could have a similarly relaxing day of nothing as well as their little adventures.

She nodded in agreement and stood from the table. She grabbed the pitcher of tea from the fridge and poured another glass before running her fingers through his hair. "Have fun today. Maybe bring back some of the berries I heard your father mention? We could have berry pancakes tomorrow."

"Sure," he replied, already imagining the taste of them. He watched as she grabbed a paperback of the counter and pushed open the screen door that lead to the porch.

He put on his shoes and then pushed away from the table and grabbed a sizeable container from the pantry right as Blaine came bounding down the steps. "Ready!" he declares.

Kurt chuckled, taking in Blaine's dark jeans and short-sleeved button up in fire engine red. "You sure are," he replies, shoving the container in the backpack he planned to take on their ride.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Kurt says. "I'm just playing with you. Now, help me make lunch so we can get out of here."

Blaine eyed him suspiciously but helped Kurt assemble sandwiches and bottles of water and lemonade. The fair boy finished their lunch spread with two thick slices of lemon pound cake he'd brought home from his grandparent's last night and ushered Blaine out the door.

They tromped through the grass and made their way to the barn. The teens walked inside the open double doors and Kurt called a greeting to Cole where he was piling bales of hair on the far side of the barn.

He waved to Kurt with a wide grin on his face. When he noticed Blaine he became withdrawn and kept his eyes on his work

"He's shy," Kurt explained. "Talk football with him though, and he'll be your best friend by the end of the week."

Blaine nodded and spared the blond farm hand one last look before taking in all the horses. After a quick count Blaine decided that there were around ten horses. He figured it was "about" ten because of the open stalls and possibility of one or two babies in he thought he saw with their mothers, only their perky ears visible from the lower dividers of their stalls.

He nearly ran into Kurt's back when he stopped, trying to get a peek at the baby horse in the farthest stall. "This is Cupid," he tall teen began, patting a twitching nose fondly.

Cupid was a strawberry roan with sweet looking eyes and a lustrous ginger mane. He whickered happily and leaned forward to sniff at Blaine's hair, butting him in the head gently.

He reached up and patted his silky nose softly. "He's so pretty," Blaine marveled.

Kurt nodded. "Yeah, he was my mom's favorite. And he just became a daddy! The foal in the stall down there is his."

"Can we see?" Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded emphatically. "I've only seen the pictures my grandmother sent me and I wanna squeeze him."

They made their way down the stable and stopped in front of a stall marked "Lady". She was a dappled grey mare and her baby matched. He knew his grandmother had secretly been hoping for another strawberry roan but he was pleased either way.

The tiny colt was all wobbly knees and skinny legs and Kurt's heart melted as soon as he looked at him. "He's so cute," he cooed, slowly reaching out to the skittish foal.

He could feel Blaine nod in agreement as he pet the mother's neck. "Does he have a name?"

The pale boy shook his head. "Not yet. He was only born a few days ago. Gran sent me pictures when I was packing and then things have been busy here so I haven't had a chance to get down here. I told her she could name him but she wouldn't."

"Why not?" Blaine asked curiously.

Kurt shrugged. "I've named all the horses since I was little and I guess she wanted to keep up the tradition."

"Do you have anything names picked out?"

"A few things," he said. "I wanted to wait until I saw him in person, make sure I gave him something that would suit him."

Blaine grinned and nodded. "Ever name a horse something ridiculous when you were little?"

Kurt flushed and nodded guilty. He pointed to the last stall on the opposite side and Blaine squinted to read the name. "Winnie?" he asked.

"Winnie the Pooh," Kurt explained, a fetching blush high on his cheeks.

"That's so cute," Blaine gushed. "I never would have thought you were into Winnie the Pooh."

Kurt laughed and nodded depreciatingly. "I was Christopher Robin for Halloween for like, five years. It actually kind of worked out. We just tell the students that ride him he got his name because he's such a chatterbox. Y'know, because he 'whinnies' so much?"

"Clever," Blaine said, eyes filled with amusement.

"I'll never live this down, will I?"

"Never," the dark haired boy promised. "Now what do you want to name this little guy?"

Kurt sighed, eyes lingering on Winnie before once again looking at the bundle of cuteness that was Lady's baby. "Well," he began. "I was thinking of giving him a name like Cupid's, since he looks so much like his mother."

"Good idea," Blaine agreed. "What did you have in mind?"

"Maybe Valentine?"

The other boy nodded. "I like it. Not as good as Winnie, but I like it."

Kurt scoffed and collapsed dramatically against the low front of the stall. Blaine laughed and shook the boy playfully. "C'mon! Which one are you going to take out today?"

With one last stroke, the slim teen abandoned the colt and walked over to the Winnie. "I think I'll take him out."

As if he could understand Kurt's words the big horse whinnied excitedly and pawed the ground. Winnie was the color of red clay with a smattering of white freckles down his spine and on his legs. He had a white patch on his nose and mischief in his eyes and Blaine thought that he was a perfect choice for Kurt.

Kurt opened the stall and placed a hand on Winnie's neck guiding him down to the saddles. Blaine was surprised to see Cupid gone from his stall and looked around frantically, concerned he had somehow caused the Hummel's to lose a horse by just being there.

He finally caught sight of him in the doorway of the stables, tethered to the wall with his a saddle already in place. Cole was bent over, checking the Cupid's shoes and humming to himself quietly. Kurt hitched Winnie up next to the strawberry horse and started the process of saddling his own horse, smiling to Cole as he worked.

"Thanks," Blaine said quietly. "I don't know how to saddle a horse," he admittedly bashfully.

Cole just gave and a quick smile and nodded in acknowledgement. "No problem."

They all stood in awkward silence, not wanting to make the blond guy uncomfortable. Finally, unable to stand the quiet any longer, Blaine broke down.

"So, Kurt tells me you like football. Did you watch the playoffs?"

Cole turned to him and smiled, suddenly speaking unabashedly and gesturing with the rag in his hand to the sound of Kurt's laughter.

It was clear the groundskeeper could have talked for hours but he was called away by an ominous squawking noise n the vicinity of the chicken coop.

The boys waved as Cole dashed off and Blaine came to stand near Kurt as he finished buckling and tightening and whatever else you needed to do to get a saddle ready. Kurt looked over to him with a sly grin and barely concealed laughter.

"What?" Blaine asked indignantly.

"Blaine," he said, finally breaking into giggles. "You are so smooth."

The shorter teen rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "You're so funny," he deadpanned.

Kurt nodded to himself and brushed dirt off his shoulder haughtily. "I try."

Blaine groaned as he slid off Cupid, his thighs screaming in protest. They has been riding for a good two hours and Kurt had signaled that they had finally reached their destination, a small stream of water and bushes laden with berries surrounding them.

"How you doin'?" Kurt called as he gracefully dismounted Winnie.

"Ow," Blaine replied simply, rubbing his hands along the insides of his thighs. "I don't remember horseback riding being this painful as a child."

The fair boy clucked sympathetically and reached into the bag they had packed for the trip. He pulled out the giant spotted blanket and spread it on the ground. "Why don't you take a load off and I'll see if I can't find the Tylenol I packed."

Blaine did as he was bid and spread out on the blanket. "How are you not suffering right now?" he asked sourly. "You said you hadn't ridden since you left."

"Pilates," Kurt explained simply.

Blaine groaned pitifully and flopped onto his side. "If this is what Pilates feels like then I'll just be fat."

"You're so dramatic," the slender boy declared.

"Oh," Blaine said, forcing himself onto his elbows. "I'm dramatic? This coming from the boy that made himself cry so he wouldn't get a parking ticket that time we went to the movies and you parked at the meters and ran out of time."

"I didn't get a ticket, did I?" he asked proudly. "And I never said I wasn't dramatic…"

He pulled a bottle from the backpack and shook out two pills, handing them to Blaine with a bottle of water. "Here, you should feel a bit better in a few minutes. In the meantime, I'm going to splash some water on my face. It's hotter'n hell out here."

Blaine just grunted and gulped down the pills greedily. He had no idea how Kurt expected him to make it back to Fleur Grange like this. He nearly groaned in pleasure when a breeze licked over his overheated skin, risking agony to stretch out and make the most of it.

He turned his head and watched the fair boy splash water over his flushed face and rub his cooled hands over the back of his neck. Blaine was going to need to use the cold water if he didn't stop staring at the way his jeans pulled tight over Kurt's perfect backside as he leaned over to reach the brook.

He forced his eyes away from Kurt so he wouldn't be caught staring and stretched again before groaning in regret. He was going to take a warm bath later in hopes that it helped soothe his protesting muscles.

Kurt flopped down on the blanket next to him, giggling as he watched Winnie happily munch on dandelions, whickering in delight.

"Hungry?" he asked Blaine, pulling the backpack over to him to unload their picnic.

Blaine nodded enthusiastically and forced himself into a sitting position, wincing as his lower back throbbed in response. "Ow," he said lowly, gratefully accepting the turkey sandwich Kurt handed him.

"I guess I should have warned you," Kurt mused aloud, grimacing regretfully. "We've got some muscle relaxant cream at home, Bengay or whatever. I brought it in case my dad threw his shoulder again, but it should work for this too."

"Thanks," the shorter ten replied, too relieved to be offended that Kurt may have just suggested he was acting like an "old man".

He hummed happily as he bit into the sandwich made of the leftover turkey Kurt's grandmother had made for dinner. The fair teen hummed in agreement and patted his belly in contentment as he ravenously finished his sandwich.

"Lemonade?" Kurt offered, holding out a plastic bottle filled with the tart drink.

Blaine downed half of it in one swallow before smacking his lips in satisfaction and sprawling back over the blanket, idly toying with the saran wrap his sandwich was wrapped in. "What time is it?" he asked.

Kurt fished his phone out of the backpack and jabbed at the screen until it displayed the time. "Almost 2:30," he replied. "I should send my dad and Carole a text, let them know we haven't been thrown from a horse or gotten terribly lost."

The shorter teen nodded absently and closed his eyes, wondering if Kurt would be pissed if he just took a short nap. Judging from the toes jabbing sharply into his side, the answer was yes.

"Don't you nod off," Kurt chided, eyes glued to his phone. "You're going to help me pick berries and then we are going to head back."

He looked to Blaine and flashed him the screen he had been absorbed in. It was the local radar and Blaine could tell from the angry red and yellow swirls to the south of them that they were going to be getting some rain. "Some" rain being an understatement.

Kurt rolled to his feet and help Blaine attain the vertical, handing him a container and pushing him toward the bushes, the already-low lying branched being weighed down by berries.

Blaine watched Kurt's pink tongue poke out of his mouth in concentration as he tried to pick the dark berried without getting his fingers and hands scratched by the prickly bush. The fair boy idly popped berries in his mouth, staining his tongue and fingers a deep purple.

The dark haired boy shrugged and figured if Kurt was eating them, they must be safe. He tossed a berry in his mouth and then proceeded to abandon the container he was supposed to fill in favor of filling his stomach.

Kurt giggled and snagged the barely-full Tupperware near Blaine's knee and filled it for him, smiling indulgently as the Warbler stuffed himself like a little kid. Kurt knew for a fact that the purple around his mouth would take hours to fade—that or minutes of such intense scrubbing that his face would be red for just as long.

"C'mon." he finally said, dragging the dark haired boy from the bushes and towards the horses. "We really need to get going."

Blaine shuddered at the thought of getting back on Cupid by manfully repressed the urge whimper pitifully. Judging from Kurt's sly look, he heard it anyway.

He swung up on Winnie expertly and trotted over to Blaine. The shorter teen was eying the stirrup mournfully but forced himself to climb on Cupid, grabbing the pommel like a lifeline. "Okay," he said tightly. "Let's get out of here."

Sadly, they did not make it back to the Grange before it started to pour. While the horses didn't mind, Blaine couldn't say the same for Kurt.

The rain felt cold and refreshing to Blaine, the pounding of the water easing the strain in his back and legs. Kurt, however, was a shivering, sopping mess. His teeth were teeth were chattering and his lips were blue without the excuse of carelessly eating wild berries.

They arrived at the barn and Cole rushed forward to relieve them, urging them into the showers in the loft. Kurt chattered and shook all the way up the stairs, struggling to text his father his whereabouts with uncooperative fingers.

Blaine snagged the phone from his hands, the fair boy not needing another challenge getting up the steps, and let Mr. Hummel know they had gotten back safely and were holed up in the barn until the weather let up.

Kurt stumbled on the last step and the shorter teen reached out to steady him, his brow furrowing in worry.

"I'm f—fine," he said, sensing Blaine's concern. "I'll be fine once I g—get in the shower. I'm just cold."

The dark haired teen nodded, not entirely convinced but willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He really hoped that Kurt didn't end up coming down with pneumonia or something equally horrific. He really was terrible at taking care of people, but he'd try for Kurt.

The trembling boy pushed the door open by collapsing against it, leading the way into a softly lit tiled room. It was set up like a gym shower; two stalls, each with a thick plastic curtain shading the occupant from view.

"Th—there should be s—stuff in there already," he said, pointing to the shower as he slipped inside his own.

"Thanks," Blaine replied, hearing the sound of the showerhead sputtering to life and then Kurt's relieved sigh as the warm water took away the worst of the chill.

He reached for the shower gel that was kept in the stalls for times such as these. Granted, the showers were usually reserved for washing off after helping a foal into the world or toiling away in the stable, but saving his freezing hide was just as noble a cause.

He heard Blaine get in the shower next to him and desperately tried not imagine what he looked like naked, covered in suds as water sluiced down his toned form—RIGHT! Not imagining was going to be harder than he thought.

He reached for the shampoo and resolved to keep his mind firmly on the task at hand. He washed quickly in the interest of avoiding embarrassing himself by doing something foolish like jerking off in the shower next to the object of his affections.

Kurt rinsed one last time and turned off the taps, reaching for a towel in the small area between the shower curtain and showering area and scrubbed the water from his body. He wrapped the towel firmly around his waist and went in search of something to wear.

He found a pair of clean gym shorts in a cubby full of hand-me-downs and lost-and-founds and pulled then on along with a plain white Hanes t-shirt. He grabbed a pair of shorts and a shirt for Blaine along with some blankets and placed them on the sink in the bathroom, calling to Blaine where he had left them.

He wrapped a flannel blanket around his shoulder and peeked out of the open barn doors, noting that the rain seemed to be letting up; raining only cats, and not dogs. The stairs creaked behind him and he looked up to find Blaine scrubbing the water from his hair, grinning sheepishly.

"Sorry we got stuck in the rain," he began. "I feel like it's my fault."

Kurt waved his hand negligently. "No, we just took our time on the way there. It happens."

Blaine nodded but he still felt like it was his fault. He knew that Kurt was setting an easy pace in deference to his inexperience, otherwise they would have arrived home well before the rain.

They sat next to one another on the steps and chatted quietly, waiting for the rain to subside. Somewhere in the barn there was a radio playing, the music bouncing around the wooden structure and warming the sound in the cool rain.

Kurt grinned as he recognized the lyrics of Sigh No More wafting through the air. He smiled to himself, closing his eyes to better hear the words.

Love it will not betray you, dismay or enslave you,
It will set you free
Be more like the man you were made to be.
There is a design,
An alignment to cry,
Of my heart to see,
The beauty of love as it was made to be

He glanced at Blaine from the corner of his eye and couldn't help but feel that maybe this was the time. Should he say it now? They were alone and if there was ever a romantic moment, this was it. The lighting in the barn was soft and glowing and the world was eerily quiet, even with the rain.

He looked at the boy next to him and bit his lip, trying to gather the words in his head. Blaine suddenly looked over at him, shivering and huddled in his blanket and smiled.

"C'mere," he said around a laugh. "You're going to freeze to death."

And the moment was broken. All Kurt's bravado fell away and he swallowed disappointment and tears and leaned into the warm circle of Blaine's arm. He sighed and comforted himself that there were sure to be plenty more moments they would have to themselves over the course of the week.

After nearly forty-five minutes the rain abruptly stopped and the teens grabbed their bags and ran the distance to the Grange, laughing breathlessly and tripping all over each other until they reached the front porch.

Carole was sitting on the porch swing, smiling indulgently at the boys as she sipped a cup of hot tea and neared the end of her novel. "Did you boys have fun?" she asked knowingly, eyeing the blue tinge around Blaine's mouth and both their fingers.

"Yes," Kurt answered, wriggling his blue fingers. "We even got the berries for breakfast tomorrow."

She smiled at them and shooed them inside. "Dinner's on the stove, boys. I thought you could use something warm."

The nodded gratefully and stumbled into the kitchen. Kurt inhaled deeply. "Chicken noodle soup," he breathed.

"Oh my god, that sound good," Blaine chimed. "Mashed potatoes too."

Kurt nodded eagerly and handed the other boy a deep bowl while he served himself, too cold and hungry to bother with the hospitality his roots were so famous for. He placed the soup right over the mashed potatoes, his mouth watering at the thought of one of his favorite comfort foods.

His grandmother and Carole had spoken at length last night and it seemed that Hilary Abel had passed on quite a bit of inside information to his new stepmother.

When Blaine had finished serving himself he pulled his friend into the living room and sat in front of the fire, sighing happily as he warmed his toes by the fire.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to sit by a fire in such a warm climate," Blaine mused aloud, face turned to the fire like a flower to the sun.

Kurt nodded, humming contentedly as he devoured the soothing meal. "It can actually get pretty cold," he said conversationally. "But I know what you mean."

The boys talked quietly as they ate, getting warmer by the moment. Soon they shed the blankets they had been huddling in and pushed back from the fire, bellies full and eyes drooping. It wasn't even eight o'clock but Kurt was almost certain if he went to bed now, he'd sleep through the night.

"Movie?" Blaine asked drowsily.

Kurt made an affirmative sound and forced himself from the ground, grabbing Blaine's empty dish and bringing it to the kitchen. He spied the kettle sitting on the stove and filled it with water before setting it to boil. He peeked into the living room and saw Blaine's grimace as he stood from the floor near the fireplace.

"Why don't you go upstairs and pick a movie while I make us some hot tea? There's some pain relief cream in my medicine cabinet, too."

Blaine nodded gratefully and trudged up the steps slowly, hands rubbing the sore muscles of his thighs as he went.

Kurt collapsed at the table and hung his head in his hands while he waited for the kettle to boil. He stared over at the counter and took in the array of baked goods his grandmother had sent over and some things it appeared Carole had made in between reading.

He stood and assembled a tray filled with little bits of everything to give himself something to do while he waited. He was so tired he didn't doubt his ability to fall asleep at the kitchen table. Finally, the kettle shrieked and he poured the scalding water in the waiting cups, the steaming water swiftly becoming brown.

He carefully carried the tray upstairs and smiled as he heard the menu of The Goonies looping in his room. He walked in and frowned in confusion when Blaine was nowhere to be found.

The fair teen set the tray on the coffee table in front of him and went in search of his wayward friend. He peered into his bathroom and had to bite his lip to stifle a gasp.

Blaine must have stopped in his room to change before venturing into his since his borrowed clothes from the barn were gone. He wore long pajama bottoms that hung low on his hips and his bronzed skin nearly glowed in the gentle lighting of his bathroom.

He was shirtless and his back was to Kurt, rubbing the menthol cream into his sore muscles. Kurt had a wonderful view of his abs from the reflection in the mirror and he found his mouth ran dry as his pulse sped up.

"Oh my," Kurt breathed, vaguely aware that he had never sounded more like a Southern maiden. He fanned himself before shaking his head at his antics and hurrying over to the tea tray. "Blaine?" he called, hoping the other boy couldn't tell how flustered he was from the sound of his voice. "Are you in here?" he asked, hoping to cover his tracks.

"In here!" he heard Blaine call. "Be out in a second!"

He took a deep breath to steel himself and took a delicate sip of his tea, savoring the milky sweetness.

"Looks great," Blaine said from behind him, making Kurt jump.

So do you, Kurt thought inanely, glad he hadn't blurted it out. Instead he just smiled and handed the shorter boy his tea and gestured for him to take his pick of desserts. "Great choice," he said, indicating the screen.

To his amusement, the other boy flushed slightly. "Yeah, I saw it and thought it kinda fit the mood for some reason."

He nodded in understanding. "I can understand that," Kurt agreed, grabbing the pillows and blankets they had used the last time and settling onto the couch with his tea and a slice of apple pie and then pressed play.

The pale boy rolled his eyes and his friend not-so-subtly pressed his icicle toes against his warm legs and proceeded to take up the majority of the couch. He took bites of every dessert, including his, and got crumbs all over his prized couch.

Even still, Kurt was more content than he could ever remember being.