The small beach community of Garden City, South Carolina was having an unusually hot July and after weeks of 100 degree weather and cancelled outdoor plans the usually water borne residents had all but given up on going outside and away from the crisp central air conditioning. Even after sunset, the air lay too thick and warm to be comfortable even when sitting by the water; that’s why one afternoon found Kurt Hummel stretched across his bed, head hanging off one side, enjoying the cool breeze the ac afforded him. He had his eyes closed, and was absently singing along to a Judy Garland album when he heard a door slam loudly. Kurt’s eyes snapped open at the noise that had seemingly not come from inside his own home, as he propped himself up enough on his elbows to see through his window and into his neighbor’s house.

Kurt wouldn’t let it be known that the only reason he’d chosen this room was because of the small awning that stuck out underneath his window that backed right up to the same part of their neighbor’s house. He liked to sit on it sometimes when the weather was nice and daydream about having somebody, preferably a cute neighbor, to sit and talk with and maybe have a runaway love with. He never took it past the daydream, not since the Rutherford’s had moved and he’d gotten his hopes up when he saw a couple move in a few days later. He’d since wondered endlessly about the people that lived there, having hardly seen them the entire year after they moved in. He was beginning to wonder if they even really existed anymore. Until right now, that was.

Kurt couldn’t help but to be curious; there was never any noise from that house and suddenly there was a door slamming and a boy who looked about his age pacing back and forth in the small bedroom across the way. Kurt wanted to move closer to the window, to get a better look when the mysterious boy’s eyes darted up and made contact with Kurt’s, whose eyes widened and cheeks quickly stained a brilliant shade of pink, realizing he was caught, before scrambling from his bed and closing the curtains quickly. He leaned against the wall and let his head fall back into it, internally scolding himself for practically gawking at the boy he now shared a small window space with.

A few minutes later there was a small knock at his window and Kurt froze before slowly peeking around his curtains. There was a piece of unfolded notebook paper taped to the glass. The handwriting was messy but not entirely illegible, as if whoever wrote it was in a hurry to do so.

I’m sorry if I frightened you. I don’t usually slam doors. I guess you’re my neighbor. That was stupid, of course you’re my neighbor. I’ve just moved back for the rest of summer so maybe we’ll see more of each other? -Blaine (your neighbor)

Kurt laughed a little before opening his window to retrieve the note. He quickly found a spare piece of paper in his desk and wrote out a much neater looking message. Kurt walked back over to his window and reopened it, swinging a leg over the ledge and stepping onto the awning, folding his note into a little square and stuck it in the middle of the boys – Blaine’s – window, knocking quickly before scurrying back through his.

It’s okay, I was just a little startled. I was beginning to think nobody lived over there. I hope we will. -Kurt (your neighbor, in case you were wondering).

Kurt didn’t hear back from Blaine and fell back into his normal boring summer of being stuck indoors. Two nights later found Kurt sitting on his awning, leaning against the side of his house and letting his legs dangle off the edge, enjoying the slight breeze that had picked up earlier that evening. A noise came from beside him, and he swiveled his head to look at Blaine awkwardly climbing out of his window as he tried not to laugh; clearly Blaine had not done this many times before. When Blaine firmly had both feet on his awning, he saw Kurt looking at him.

“You saw that didn’t you?”

He ducked his head, a dark blush forming over his cheeks; Kurt’s eyes, however, were shining with amusement.

“Every second of it,” Kurt informed him. “You’re Blaine, I presume?”

Kurt raised a curious eyebrow as Blaine sat facing him, knees tucked into his chest.

“That would be me – do I even need to ask if you’re Kurt?”

Blaine raised his gaze to look at Kurt properly for the first time, their eyes locking and staring at each other for a moment before Kurt blinked and looked away, his stomach falling in an uneasy way.

“N-no I guess you don’t,” He stammered, nervously rubbing at the base of his neck.

Blaine followed the line of Kurt’s folded arm down to the elbow, admiring the expanses of pale skin he was afforded by Kurt’s black undershirt and green shorts. Kurt’s arm dropped back down to his side, making Blaine’s eyes snap back up to Kurt’s, who seemed to have missed Blaine’s staring. Blaine opened his mouth to say something, but a woman’s voice sounded clearly from inside his house, interrupting him. Grumbling something under his breath that Kurt couldn’t quite make out, Blaine looked from his window back to Kurt.

“Mom’s calling. I’ll see you later, Kurt.”

He stood, not waiting for a response and struggled back in the window, leaving Kurt fighting to keep his laughter contained. He stayed out there a little longer until his own mom called him back inside.

00

Blaine was sitting through yet another scolding from his parents. He had hung his head the moment the meal had begun, and had played with the hem of the polo he was wearing, rather than eating.

“Blaine Everett Anderson, are you even listening to me?” his father demanded.

“This is why you’re such a disappointment. You can’t even listen. I would say you’re retarded but you wouldn’t be sitting there if you were.” His father took a drink from his glass of scotch as his mother joined in, “Why can’t you be more like your brother?” Blaine lifted his head and gave his mother a hard stare for a fourteen year old. “You wish it had been me instead of him, don’t you?” he asked. His mother looked down at her plate of food and his father answered, “Yes. I wish that very much.” His mother said nothing. He wasn’t angry at them; he wished it had been him too.

His mother broke the silence that had fallen, “Go up to your room.”

Blaine rose from his seat without looking at his parents and made towards the stairs and his room, glad that he could be away from their disapproving looks and comments. He stepped into his room and closed his bedroom door, flopping backwards onto his bed. As much as he wanted to hate his parents he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to do so. He’d felt nothing but numb since Cooper died and his parents had started to show how little he really meant to them.

He had known it when Cooper was alive; it showed in how his parents showered Cooper with praise and affection even when he’d done something wrong and how his parents scolded and punished him even when he’d done something right. It had slipped from both of his parents on separate occasions that they’d wished they’d gotten an abortion; that they never wanted another child. They had both been drinking but it hadn’t made it hurt any less.

The room felt smaller and more constricting or maybe it was his chest but Blaine got up from his bed and walked to his window, hoping that Kurt would still be outside – however, it seemed that the other boy had gone. Blaine decided that it would still be better to be out there so he stumbled through his window and onto the awning to wait for Kurt to reappear. He laid back on the flat surface and closed his eyes.

00

Kurt went downstairs to find his mom finishing making dinner. It had been just the two of them since his dad had passed when he was ten. He missed him every day, and had recently taken to wearing one of his too big flannels around his room. The first afternoon of wearing it around the house, his mom had been out at work, and when she had come home to see Kurt sleeping on the couch wrapped up in one of Burt’s shirts, she’d nearly broken down crying.

He hadn’t worn it outside of his room since.

He knew she was still having a hard time dealing with his dad’s death. All of his clothes were still in the closet and the dresser, and his toothbrush and aftershave still had places on the counter of his mom’s bathroom. Sometimes he would sit in there and smell his aftershave. To be honest, Kurt was having a pretty hard time too.

“This smells delicious. What are we having?”

Kurt sat at their small dinner table, as he did every night, and watched his mom work in the kitchen. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him.

“We’re having spaghetti,” she said, tipping over the pot of noodles into a strainer.

Kurt’s face lit up and a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“With meatless balls?”

Elizabeth laughed.

“Yes, with meatless balls, Mister Vegetarian.”

Kurt watched as she poured the nodded back into the pot and brought it to the table with a smaller pot of tomato sauce. He stood and helped get the meatless balls and the garlic bread. Once they were settled and eating, Kurt asked again about the strange people living behind them, and he got the answer he always got when he asked these days.

“I still don’t know anything about them, hon.”

Kurt was lost in his head thinking of Blaine and ended up smiling at the wall.

“Has something grown on the wall that I can’t see? Do I need to get – what was it? Salt?”

Kurt snapped out of his reverie and giggled, restarting the dinner conversation.

00

Heading to his room after the dishes were done, Kurt was about to grab his pajamas and shower, but was distracted by the sight outside his window – at first, it looked like Blaine was just lying on his side, but as Kurt moved closer he realized that the boy had fallen asleep. He couldn’t help but think that that couldn’t be safe, so he climbed quietly out of his window to wake him up. Once he was on his awning he could see Blaine better, and though he was sleeping, he didn’t look peaceful. He looked like he had been crying. Kurt sat down and scooted closer to him, gently shaking his shoulder, not wanting to startle him too much.

“Coop, go ‘way,” Blaine mumbled sleepily, feeling a warm hand on his shoulder.

He just wanted to sleep some more, and was going to say so when he felt the hand shake him just a little more firmly. Opening his eyes, Blaine suddenly realized he had no idea where he was. He jolted up and nearly lost his balance, causing the warm hand from before to grab his arm and hold him still. Blaine calmed down once he realized he was outside his window, and then he realized the hand on his arm belonged to Kurt. Flushing red, he apologized quickly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep out here.”

He looked up when Kurt released his arm – Kurt was blushing too.

“Are you alright? I don’t mean to be nosy, but it looks liked you’ve been crying?”

Blaine reached up to wipe his long dried cheeks, his stomach sinking as he realized that Kurt had thought he was crying – that Kurt would now think that he’s weak.

“It’s nothing – just parent stuff. I should probably go inside.”

He couldn’t explain it, but he wanted to impress Kurt and he knew nobody liked a boy who cried. Kurt looked surprised at the dismissal, but didn’t question it, much to Blaine’s relief.

“Do you want help through the window? I couldn’t help but notice you don’t do it often.”

He hoped Blaine would take his offer, but people tended to shy away from Kurt touching them, so he didn’t put too much stock in the idea.

�“It’s really that obvious, isn’t it?” Blaine chuckled. “Want to show my tomorrow? I’m just not feeling too good tonight.”

He gave Kurt and apologetic smile and stood up, watching Kurt do the same.

“Whenever you’re ready is okay with me, Blaine.”

Blaine smiled softly, “Goodnight Kurt.”

Blaine awkwardly climbed through his window and shut the blinds. Later that night, Blaine was tossing in bed when there was a small knock on his window. He rolled out of bed, expecting to see Kurt. What he found instead was another not taped to his window.

Meet me at my window an hour before sundown.

Blaine folded and unfolded the scrap of paper until he fell into a comfortable sleep, the note neatly folded in between his palm and his heart.