Kurt wakes up early to make breakfast pancakes. The warm, rich smell gets Blaine and Jamie up and going, and Blaine comes into the kitchen to give Kurt a deep, grateful kiss. Kurt's gaze darts to Jamie, who is sitting at the kitchen table staring blankly at them.

"I think our little guest is hungry," murmurs Kurt, against Blaine's lips.

"Mm... so am I..." whispers Blaine.

Kurt giggles, then shoves Blaine away lightly. "Get the sauces out, horny boy."

"I always like it saucy," says Blaine, with a wicked grin as he turns to the cupboard.

"Blaine," warns Kurt, "I'm in my good Sunday pants now. Don't be funny."

"Wow, you're in your Sunday pants making pancakes? That's a first."

"I had the idea of making breakfast only after I changed," admits Kurt. "Then there wasn't much time to change and get breakfast ready in time for you two to wake up to it." He delivers the plate of pancakes before Jamie. "There you go, sweetie."

"A man who reveres breakfast is a man to keep," says Blaine, bringing bottles of maple syrup and blueberry sauce over. "Which one do you want, kiddo?"

Kurt turns to pick the maple, but Jamie reaches out for it first. Blaine hands it over to Jamie with a grin, then offers Kurt the blueberry.

"So," says Kurt, pretending to be very invested in reading the ingredient list on the blueberry bottle. "What's our plan for today?"

"Well, I was thinking we need to get a few child-friendly items in the house, even if it's only for two weeks," says Blaine, as he helps cut up Jamie's pancakes into bits while she drizzles syrup all over. "Okay, Jamie, that's enough."

Jamie clutches at the bottle and a whole dollop of syrup comes out.

Blaine manages to pry her fingers away and steals some of her syrup, prompting her to scrunch up her face.

"Uh-oh," says Kurt, his eyes narrowed.

Jamie makes that strangled noise that Kurt immediately senses is the 'warning siren', but Blaine cleverly sticks a piece of pancake into her mouth. Her eyes widen and she chomps down on it.

When Jamie eyes the second piece and Blaine offers her the fork to let her spear it herself, Kurt is in awe. "How do you do it? It seems so effortless."

"It's trial and error most of the time," admits Blaine. "But once you know it, it's a lot easier because they're so used to routine and habit. If they like one thing, they like it. If they don't, they don't."

Kurt watches, slightly mesmerized, as Jamie stuffs the pancake in her mouth and chews. "Wow. For a moment I was about to say I wish people were that simple to read. But at the same time that just means they're not open to change and that's... well, that's not good," he finishes lamely.

"I like to think that they also have a way of doing things that might actually be better, just that we want to guide them so much that we think very little of it," says Blaine, then he straightens up to cut his own pancake where he has scooped some of Jamie's extra syrup on – then looks at Kurt's plate. "Do you... not like your own pancakes?"

Kurt puts on a most innocent smile and points to the maple syrup bottle.

"Oh, my bad!" Blaine hands him the syrup bottle.

However, just that small little action makes Jamie scrunch up her face again. This time, she's staring very hard at Kurt.

"No!"

Both of them stare at her.

"Okay," says Kurt, slowly. "That's proof that she can talk without being talked to."

"I think it's only when she's really worked up," says Blaine, though he looks surprised too. "Jamie, it's okay. Kurt likes maple syrup too."

"NO," Jamie says vehemently.

Kurt frowns. "Why not?"

When all Jamie does is to bang her spoon against the plate, Kurt offers her a piece of pancake. She refuses to eat it and continues to glare at him.

"I think I'm just going to sit in the living room to eat," says Kurt. "Cover me, Blaine, I'm taking that syrup by hook or by crook."

Blaine snorts in amusement, then leans over the kitchen counter to block Kurt from Jamie's sight. When Jamie sees that Kurt isn't there, she doesn't make any more sounds.

Kurt eats his pancakes in silence, his eyes trained on his reflection in the blank television screen before him. He steals a glance at Blaine and Jamie, and can't help remembering when Blaine had first asked him to move in with him. It had been six months after they had started dating, and Kurt wasn't really sure, especially when his father's health wasn't that great.

"I have lived with my father all my life," Kurt had said, "and every morning, it gives me strength to do the things I can whenever I see him wake up, fresh and happy. It's my greatest fear that when I wake up one morning, he's not there anymore. I just feel really weird if he and I... if we're not going to stay together anymore, you know?"

Blaine had taken his hand and said gently, "I always tell you that you're a very lucky guy to have a dad like Burt who loves you for who you are. But this time, I'm gonna tell you that Burt's a lucky man to have a son who loves him that much too."

Blaine hadn't said it, but Kurt knew that at that moment, it was clearer than ever that both of them wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. He had broached the topic of getting Blaine to stay in the Hummel household instead, but Burt threw a surprising spanner in the works – the woman he had been dating for the last year or so, Carole, had agreed to marry him, and she would move in.

"Dad, I'm so happy for you!" Kurt had gasped and hugged his father.

"I know, kiddo," his father had said, "And I want you to be happy too. You're twenty-six, you're all grown up and I want you to live your own life, have your own family, and not have to worry too much about me. I've got Carole to take care of me now."

"You're abandoning me now," teased Kurt, even though there was a hollow ache in him.

"I love you, Kurt," Burt had said firmly. "And I know you love that fine young man."

"He is a fine young man," Kurt had said shyly. "He reminds me of you, sometimes."

Burt had chortled. "Anderson has the manners of a fine English aristocrat and I'm just a straight-talkin' Midwestern dude, how does that mesh? Unless he has my secret love of greasy fries and burgers."

"Dad!" Kurt had admonished. "No... I meant that your capacities to love and care for people are just so – so overwhelmingly straightforward and pure. And to be the recipient of that kind of love from you two? I just – I just feel like nothing in this world is gonna come at me."

"You bet at it, son. We got your back."

The next day, Kurt had gone to sign the joint tenancy agreement with Blaine for Blaine's apartment.

And here they are now, two years later. His father and Carole have been doing well, still managing the tire shop that they have owned for decades and staying healthy, while he and Blaine have been living a simple, humble and loving life.

Kurt stares at his empty plate, then turns to look at Blaine again, who is now helping to clear up and teaching Jamie to stack the plates and arrange the cutlery neatly on top of it.

I want you to be happy too. I want you to live your own life, have your own family.

"Nothing's gonna come at us," he whispers. "Nothing."

-.-.-.-.-.-

The Walmart in Lima always has a homely smell that Kurt finds endearing, but it's not enough to overcome his dislike of the crowds of people that are there on weekends. As condescending as it is to think this way, he'd much rather be in a crowd of snotty fashion designers in New York than shifty-eyed conservatives in Ohio. His sharp tongue can handle the razor blades of fashion critique, but still falls flat at the wispy murmurs of discomfort and disgust.

That's just when there's Kurt and Blaine. Now there's Kurt and Blaineanda kid. A kid with two co-habiting gay men as babysitters. The horror! The travesty!

Blaine's hand rests on the small of his back, undoing the little knot of muscle there. Kurt sighs in relief.

"Will foam do?" asks Blaine. "To line the edge of our coffee table."

"Are you kidding?" Kurt groans. "That'll ruin the whole chic thing we've got going in the living room!"

"Kurt, it's just for two weeks. I don't think we're going to get Barbara Barry into our home anytime soon."

"Iamthe Barbara Barry of our home."

Jamie makes an excited noise upon seeing the rows of sweets as they push the shopping cart along.

"She agrees!" Kurt exclaims in triumph.

Blaine pretends to look offended. "Wearegetting that foam."

"You make Jamie sound like a baby. The edges of our table aren't even that sharp!"

Jamie starts to make 'ba-ba-ba' sounds at the sound of 'baby' and Blaine looks at her fondly.

"Her concept of danger is quite different, Kurt," he says, with a sigh. "I just want to make sure nothing goes wrong whilst she stays with us."

"Okay, but you needcloth-wrappedfoam. I'm pretty sure they have one of those that look a lot less tacky." Kurt taps Blaine on the shoulder. "I, on the other hand, am going to find locks.Lots and lotsof locks."

"For?"

"Can't have Jamie wandering around the house pulling open every drawer, can we?"

Jamie's voice is now louder than usual and she's making strange clicking noises with her tongue apart from the 'ba-ba-ba'. Some people are beginning to notice and Kurt frowns.

"Jamie," he whispers, placing a finger near her lips. "Quiet."

Jamie makes a rather explosive noise.

"Ah, not the best move when she wants to be in control here," says Blaine, apologetically while Kurt frowns. "BA BA BA," says Jamie, nodding.

"Jamie, we are in a store," says Blaine, lifting his finger tohislips. "How do we behave in a store?"

Jamie immediately puts a finger on her lips and Kurt sighs in relief. However, it isn't long before Jamie begins her vocal percussion again.

"Has her speech regressed?" Kurt arches a stiff eyebrow.

"Of course not! She's just obsessed with that syllable, that's all. Kurt, go get the locks first. Jamie, honey, look here –"

"BA BA KKK BA BA –"

"Jesus," says Kurt, suddenly feeling very conscious when heads begin to turn. "Blaine, do something."

Blaine places a hand out, his expression stern. Jamie blinks a little, then starts to shout, "BA! BLAY! BLAYYY!"

"I thought you and Quinn said she's quiet!" Kurt hisses as he tries to catch Jamie's flailing hand.

"Kurt, relax!" Blaine holds his arm. "Jamie can sense agitation too."

"And so can everybody in Walmart." Kurt lowers his voice while glaring at a gaggle of women with deep furrowed eyebrows and disapproving lip curls. "Did you prep her before this?"

"Yes," says Blaine, who is still trying to draw Jamie's attention to his gesturing before he can speak to her. At the same time, Kurt can sense a slight tension in his voice. "The locks, Kurt, go get them before we never get anything from here."

Before Kurt can move, Jamie suddenly pushes past Blaine to grab at a display of water bottles. Blaine reacts a fraction of a second too late; a bunch of bottles come tumbling down onto the ground with a tremendous clatter.

Kurt's first reaction is,thank God it isn't glass!

"I will pick it!" Jamie announces loudly, and for the first time, Kurt notices she has amazing enunciation for a five-year-old. "Let me down!"

Kurt recovers from his surprise to pick up the bottles while Blaine clasps Jamie's hands together and warns her about touching things. But Kurt isn't paying attention to what Blaine is saying; all he can hear is the group of ladies whispering,

" –what you get for being so blatant. How could they? And the poor kid!"

"Really, the kid suffers when their parents are so irresponsible."

"Bringing her into the world to suffer God's wrath, it's so painful..."

"Excuse me?" Kurt stands up straight, water bottles in hand. "Did you say something?"

It's not that he wants to create a scene. He would much rather stalk down the aisles, ditch all shopping propriety and grab the things he needs without a second glance, and leave the place. What he absolutely hates more than just plain stupid homophobia, is when people use religion to logically support the case of retribution. It's senseless and baseless. Even though Kurt is atheistic, he respects that people find solace and strength all at once in their God, so when they use God's name to justify their hatred for a faceless stranger who happens to be gay, it just stirs up an irrational rage in him.

The ladies give him a rather disgruntled look, then make to leave.

"You don't have to huddle there, you can just step up and say it."

"Kurt –" Blaine begins.

"God hears you whether you're yelling through a loudhailer at an anti-gay rights movement or when you're whispering in those sneaky and squeaky little voices you have!" says Kurt, his anger growing with his every word. "Meanwhile, you can recite all your Bible verses as evidence to support, just don't forget to quote the verse numbers and the year that they were said in to be approved by academic journals!"

None of them say a word while the cheery store music plays on, a completely dissonant background. Jamie doesn't help by loudly announcing, "Go. Let's go!"

The ladies leave; typical of the residents here. None of them would dare to make a ruckus out of their staunch beliefs, even though the backhanded comments and side eyes are damaging enough.

"I hate it here," hisses Kurt, as he stuffs the bottles back onto the shelf. "If it wasn't for my father, I wouldn't be staying in Lima a second longer."

"Go!" Jamie chimes in.

"Yes, we'll go!" Kurt glares at her.

"Kurt!" Blaine takes hold of his arm. "Don't take it out on her!"

"Well, maybe I'll take it out on you instead for deciding to come here, ruining a perfectly good weekend!" snaps Kurt.

Blaine lets out a frustrated noise. "Kurt, it's not like you don't know what it's like here. Comeon, you've never let this get to you! Why are you –"

"I've spent myentirelife living in this town and having people judge the hell out of me because of my voice, my looks..." Kurt whispers, his voice trembling. "And then my sexuality and my job and basically everything that I deserve to be proud of having, I've been trampled upon for having them. Now I'm bringing both my boyfriend and a kid in here and I feel like I'm being thrown into hell just with those horrible looks on their faces... soforgiveme if I'm beingoverlysensitive for just wanting a peaceful day out!"

Blaine stares at him for a while, then shakes his head. "Let's talk this through at home. We're scaring Jamie here."

Kurt's eyes flash. "You, of all people, should understand."

"We're not discussing this here!" Blaine looks at him incredulously. "Please!"

"That's it," says Kurt. He fishes out his car key from his pocket and dumps it into Blaine's hand. "Don't wait for me. I'll be late."

"Kurt."

"I'm going to my dad's for dinner," says Kurt, crisply. "I need positive mojo right now."

"Kurt!" Blaine grabs his arm, but he shakes it off. Then he turns and leaves without looking back, even though Blaine calls out to him one more time.

Kurt doesn't care that he has to splurge to take a cab all the way to his dad's place, which is at the other end of Lima. He just wants to get away from Walmart and go back to something comfortable and homey.

A few minutes into the ride and he's inwardly berating himself for making such a fuss. He still stands by what he thinks about many of the Lima residents, but he knows he has hurt Blaine badly by the things that he said. Of all people, Blaine should know best what it feels like to be judged for his sexuality, and Kurt suddenly feels so small and horrible.

He knows he is incredibly lucky to have a father who accepts him for who he is, and best friends who judge him for everything except his sexuality. At the same time, however, the reason why his support group accepts him is because acceptance comes with understanding and often, it needs a personal kind of understanding.

It's only been two days. He wonders if he's ever going to develop that kind of understanding with Jamie.

Or – or maybe – even Blaine.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Kurt" Carole squeals once she opens the door, and flings her arms round him. "Why didn't you call?!"

"I wanted to give you guys a surprise," says Kurt, grinning as he steps inside the house. Comfortable and homey indeed. "I smell something good. Grilled halibut?"

"Oh, nothing escapes that sharp nose of yours," says Carole, tapping him on the nose. Then she looks woebegone. "But I only cooked for Burt and myself..."

"Don't worry," says Kurt. "I'll whip up something with whatever you have in the fridge."

Before Carole can comment further, Burt comes running down the stairs, hollering, "Is my boy back?"

"Dad! Don't run down the stairs like that!" Kurt gapes in horror.

"Well, if I have my son around to nurse me over a bunch of broken bones, I don't think that's too bad an idea," says Burt, as he envelops Kurt with a big hug.

"First of all, stop guilt-tripping me that I haven't been back often enough," says Kurt, clinging on tightly to his father. "Second of all, don't you dare suggest that any part of you will be broken."

"Alright, alright," says Carole, once Burt has let Kurt go. "Let the boy make his dinner and we can settle down to a good dinner!"

"And third of all, don't suggest that Carole doesn't do a fine job of nursing you!" Kurt grins while Carole waves a mocking finger at Burt.

Burt laughs heartily. "Okay, I take that all back. Whatever the frequency of your visits, it just makes me really happy to see you back. I'm fine and well, all thanks to Carole. That covers it all, doesn't it?"

Kurt throws his father a look that he hopes conveys annoyance and affection all at once.

"Where's Blaine, by the way?" asks Carole, as she hands the apron over to Kurt.

Kurt tenses for a fraction of a second, then smiles. "He's busy taking care of a kid at home."

Both Burt and Carole's smiles disappear as they exchange looks. "A kid?" Burt asks. "At home?"

Kurt takes out some eggs and vegetables from the fridge. "Yeah. Sorry I didn't tell you guys this earlier, but it just happened over the last couple of days so I haven't had time. We're helping to care for a little girl from the LAC while the Center helps to find her a permanent handler. She was sent over from the orphanage."

Silence.

"Oh, Kurt..." says Carole. "How old is she?"

"About five."

"Kurt."

Kurt cracks the eggs into the sizzling pan.

"Kurt," Burt repeats. "Something's wrong."

Kurt knows he can't hide anything from his dad, but he pretends that he can't hear Burt over the frying of his sunny side up. He busies himself with making a simple salad at the side, then finally serves his food at the table where Burt and Carole have their fish fillets before them. "Oh, why didn't you guys start eating? It's all cold now!"

Burt gives him a knowing look. "You took a taxi here instead of driving the car here."

"Blaine has to go buy stuff for her, he needs the car."

"And you decided to come here alone instead of following him?"

"Dad," says Kurt, mockingly. "Do I need a reason to come visit you?"

"No, but you need a reason as to why you are obviously upset about something."

Kurt sits down hard. "Well, it's just not that simple taking care of Jamie."

"And you're having disagreements with Blaine because of that?"

"Dad, it's not like that."

"I treat that boy like my son and I'd like to think I know him like my son too, even if it's only been two years," says Burt. "He's got a way with kids because he's got the heart for them."

"I'd like to think I do have the heart for them too," mutters Kurt, poking at his salad with a fork.

"So what's the issue then?"

Kurt doesn't really know what to say. He's not even sure he knows what the issue is. All he knows is that he's tired, unhappy and worst of all, guilty. "It just happened all so suddenly, that's all. I'm not sure if I can handle it."

"Oh honey," says Carole, gently. "It's definitely not easy when you two have been living together all this while and then suddenly, there's a new addition to the family."

"Are you jealous of Blaine giving attention to the girl?" asks Burt, suddenly looking rather amused.

Kurt makes a face. "Ha. If I was, I'd have dragged him here and left Jamie with – with, I dunno, the neighbor or something." Burt isn't convinced, so he adds, "Blaine can help prep her better for a lot of new things. I just thought I'd come over and say hi and let you guys know. Just in case Jamie picks up the phone for some reason or another and you get a shock."

His dad still looks doubtful, but thankfully, Carole cuts in to say, "Well, I'm sure the two of you will work something out." She takes Kurt's hand. "Just be a little bit more patient and understanding and it will work wonders."

"Kurt, we just want you to be happy," says his father, sincerely. "You let us know if Anderson takes you for granted and I'll drive over and give him a piece of my mind."

Kurt smiles. "I know you'll always back me up, Dad, and I think Blaine knows how handy you are with your tools. Don't worry. We're good."

He doesn't mention the Walmart incident at all throughout dinner. He doesn't mention that they have been kept busy with trying to settle Jamie in that they haven't managed to communicate this to anyone else except Quinn Fabray and those awful old ladies at Walmart. He just switches topics comfortably to the tire shop, Burt's diet and lifestyle, how Carole can create a brand new wardrobe based on the latest trends... he lets himself be the child in the household again, not having to make any decisions or think too much beyond making snarky, witty comments on everything.

When the time comes for him to leave, he looks at his phone and debates whether he should ask Blaine to come fetch him. But he doesn't have to mull over that too long; Burt volunteers to send him home.

"Dad..."

"You stopped giving me the chance to drive you around after your sixteenth birthday," says Burt. "One of my greatest regrets is giving you that car. Let me undo a bit of that regret, yea?"

He winks at Kurt, who can't help smiling despite tears stinging his eyes as he hugs Burt. His gaze meets Carole's, and she mouths, 'I'll take care of him'.

He gives her a fierce hug.

On the drive back, Kurt turns the stereo up. Sure enough, Burt doesn't say anything – not until he's driven up to Kurt's apartment doorstep. Then he turns the stereo off and looks at Kurt. "You gotta talk to him, you know. Everything that you're afraid of."

"That's easier said than done," says Kurt, picking at the buttons on his jacket.

Burt places a firm hand on Kurt's shoulder. "There are times when I'm so grateful that you're so strong, Kurt. You put me to shame when your mom died... you held it together, you made sure everything was taken care of even while I was in a mess. And you were just a kid then. Now you're all grown up, you've got a place of your own, a family to call your own... sure, you're a man of the house, but you don't have to take it all on your shoulders and act like it doesn't matter. Remember what I always said?"

Kurt bites hard on his bottom lip before murmuring, "Yeah. I matter."

"That's right, kid. You remember that well and good," says Burt, firmly.

Kurt smiles. "I know, Dad. Thanks."

"I wish you knew it better," says Burt, with a sigh. "Now get in there. Goodnight, Kurt."

Kurt hugs him one more time, then gets out of the car. He watches as his dad drives off into the night, his heart aching more than ever.

-.-.-.-.-.-

When Kurt steps into the flat, he finds Blaine sitting at the kitchen table with a laptop before him. Blaine immediately sits up straight, then looks back at the computer intently and does a little shoulder shrug and eyebrow raise.

"Is that Tina on Skype?" asks Kurt, wearily.

"How did you know?" comes the voice from the computer. "You can't even see the screen!"

Blaine cracks a small smile as Kurt harrumphs. "Well, young lady, Blaine Anderson doesn't do covert body language with justanyone."

"Aw, I'm touched!" exclaims Tina. "Blaine has a secret code just for me!"

Blaine bobs his head lightly.

"Kurt, we should Skype again soon."

"What, can't spare time for me now, Miss Cohen-Chang?" Kurt hangs up his coat and walks over, hands on his hips.

"I need to go make dinner. Artie's gonna be back soon." Tina waves as Kurt comes into view of the camera. "You have supper in the microwave, by the way."

Kurt just has time to squeeze in a quick 'bye!' after Tina rattles off 'I love you both!' and the Skype screen turns blank. Blaine quickly shuts the computer and heads towards the microwave.

"You ordered takeout?" asks Kurt, quietly.

Blaine jerks his head towards the Creative Room, where the door is shut. "She got a bit restless, so I quickly bought her some toys, grabbed Chinese food and came home. Then she got tired out and fell asleep." He goes back to getting the cutlery and plate ready, then turns to the microwave. "Thought you might want some supper too."

"Hey," says Kurt. "Leave the food for a bit, will you?"

Blaine's hand freezes on the microwave. He turns back to look at Kurt, and Kurt can't help but sigh miserably at the expression on his face. "Oh, come here, Blaine."

Without a word, Blaine crosses over to Kurt and meets his embrace tightly. Kurt can feel Blaine's body quivering; his hands rub all over Blaine's back soothingly.

"I hate–"

"We can't–"

Kurt immediately pulls back and holds Blaine back at arm's length. "Me first."

Blaine smirks through his tears. "I don't know if it's a good thing that we're all starting out with negative words."

Kurt rolls his eyes. "We're both not sorry, that's why."

Blaine hangs his head. "Yeah."

Kurt sighs. "I hate – getting mad at you. We haven't really gottenthatmad at each other for the last two years and – " He feels Blaine tense under his hands. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not mad at Jamie either. I just feel like having her here is making us so edgy in so many different ways, it's so hard to talk about them all and reconcile everything. I don't mean to belittle anything that you think or feel or want to do for Jamie. If I made you feel that way, then I'm sorry. But I'm not sorry for getting mad at Walmart because I just felt it's so frustrating to hear people passing judgments on our lives which has just undergone a major change in the last day or so."

When he finishes that, he's almost breathless. Blaine can't help smiling. "Did Burt give you one of his inspirational daddy talks again?"

Kurt mirrors his expression. "You know I can't get out of those without falling to pieces inside. Did whatever I say even make sense?"

Blaine places a hand on Kurt's chest and rubs it tenderly. "Damn. I'm sorry for being judgmental myself. I judged you too quickly for your frustrations. Itisa major change, especially for you, and I didn't take it seriously enough."

"Then what are you not sorry for?" mutters Kurt, leaning his forehead against Blaine's.

"For being mad at you for taking it out on Jamie," says Blaine, honestly. "It's not even an issue whether it's in public or at home. I know it demands a hell lot of patience and it's a lot to ask for someone who doesn't – I mean, I know Sugar works in your office, but she's at the higher-functioning end of the autism spectrum which means she's got a lot more control and understanding of her situation..." Kurt has to fight hard not to snort. "It definitely is a lot to ask for someone who doesn't meet with autistic kids on a regular basis. But Jamie's ability to sense her situation and act appropriately is still at its infancy stage. That's what she's at the LAC for. That's what we as therapists will help her through. It takes all hands to clap in all surroundings that Jamie is in to guide her. I need you to see that, otherwise it'll be a very difficult time for all of us."

When Kurt doesn't respond, Blaine leans back worriedly. "Kurt, I promise that you aren't going to be alone in this. I got you into this and I'll walk with you through it."

Kurt tilts his head to the side. "Do you know how I see the end of our lives?"

"How?"

"Just like in The Notebook," says Kurt, in a low voice. "Us sitting next to each other in a nursing home, talking to others endlessly about our first loves, going on and on about every single detail as if they matter. And then we'll turn to each other and we'll hold hands and know that no matter what has happened in our lives, who has come into our lives, at the end of it all, we're still together."

Blaine wrinkles up his nose. "Wow, we'd be such cantankerous old men with the vicious lives that we live, that I don't see ourselves telling such cheesy stories... we'd just be trading insults all the time and when the nurses have to come in and ask what's the matter with us, we'd be like 'oh, c'mon, it'd be such a waste of manpower if we sat here gazing adoringly at each other and you guys weren't needed.'"

Kurt does snort now. "Your idea of romance is so unappealing that it's real."

He pauses, before adding, "You know I always get carried away with the happy, fanciful and pretty things in life because they are so far and few. I get so defensive whenever there're signs that these things might vanish."

"Let's try again?" Blaine whispers.

Kurt nods, and Blaine leans forward to kiss him, and he can taste salt and feel Blaine's wet cheeks. Neither of them pull back, however, and Kurt deepens the kiss by pulling Blaine flush against him, the supper all forgotten. Very soon, they've ended up on their bed with Kurt staring up at Blaine, his desire growing with Blaine's intense gaze boring into his eyes.

"I miss you," he whispers.

"It was just one night," says Blaine, smiling. "But so did I."

"If you're not there, she'll stay fast asleep?" Kurt asks.

Blaine laughs softly as he slips his hand under Kurt's shirt, sending goosebumps all over Kurt as fingers smooth over skin. "I hope so. We'll just have to keep it down then."

"Ha, look who's talking, Anderson," says Kurt, slyly as he unbuttons Blaine's shirt. "Seem to recall somebody has a penchant for moaning and calling out my name at a particularly high level of decibels –"

"Shut. Up." Blaine silences him with a deep kiss. Kurt lets out a gasp when Blaine breaks for air to murmur,

"Are your Sunday pants still on?"

"Oh my God," groans Kurt. "Now you have to shut up."

"If she does wake, don't kill me," whispers Blaine, as he trails his nose and down the side of Kurt's neck and then plants reverent kisses along his collarbone.

Kurt closes his eyes and briefly thinks that if Jamie does wake up at this point, there's no way he's going to be feeling sorry about anything anymore. Then he trails his fingers down Blaine's bare back, and just loses himself in Blaine's kisses and caresses for the rest of the night.