Blaine had packed everything he intended to take with him to Aileen’s on Friday and stacked all the boxes neatly at the feet of his bed, before he left for a movie night at the Hummels’. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he found himself wrapped in Kurt’s surprisingly strong arms, and his face buried in hair scented with a mixture of a floral shampoo and hairspray. For a moment it seemed to Blaine that his best friend was even happier about the move than he was himself.

Burt had already been told the good news, and once Kurt untangled his arms from around his friend, his father pulled Blaine into another bone-crushing hug. Mr Hummel was glad enough to cut his usual comments and kept on smiling as they watched Sweeney Todd, singing along without a break.

On Saturday, they set off early to Westerville in Kurt’s Navigator to collect Blaine’s things. Aileen promised Blaine’s room – her former guest room – would be ready around noon, so they didn’t want to make her wait any longer than that.

Blaine had barely talked to his parents since their unfortunate discussion a few days prior. Any attempts at communication failed miserably, as they all involved trying to convince Blaine to stay at Dalton. But since there was nothing in the phrase ‘private education’ that could outweigh ‘true friendship’ and ‘a chance for happiness’, Blaine largely ignored whatever they were telling him. And with each futile attempt at conversation, Mr Anderson was growing more and more furious, while his wife was becoming increasingly concerned.

But Blaine couldn’t say he really cared. If his own parents saw education as superior to living a full and happy life, then he wasn’t sure he wanted to call them his parents anymore.

The Navigator made its way down the street, and it was only when Kurt started to turn into the driveway, when the boys spotted another SUV in front of the house.

‘Oh, shit,’ they said in unison. They would’ve laughed at being so perfectly in sync, if that didn’t mean a possible altercation.

Without another word, they scrambled out of the car, Blaine leading the way up the porch steps. Kurt followed him as tentatively as he had that one late afternoon in November.

They tended to avoid the Anderson house whenever Blaine’s parents were around. The Andersons still held a grudge against their son for letting Kurt stay in the fall, while Kurt himself was almost the devil personified in their eyes. That gay nobody, that queer who only made Blaine queerer and queerer with every second they spent together.

The boys showing up together for Blaine’s stuff wasn’t then seen as a sign of friendship and lending a hand, but as another piece of proof of Kurt corrupting Blaine and maybe even of the transfer being Kurt’s idea from the very beginning.

Blaine pushed the front door open silently, trying not to attract attention. Soon enough though, it was clear they had already been spotted and both Andersons stood before them in the hallway.

‘We’re just here for my stuff, so if you would…’ Blaine waved his hand, telling them to move out of the way, but their eyes were focused on Kurt.

‘Hi, Mrs Anderson, Mr Anderson,’ Kurt said shyly, his voice even more high-pitched than usually.

‘Kurt, is it?,’ Mrs Anderson asked coldly.

Kurt could see Blaine’s hands curling into fists, but he looked up, fixing his eyes firmly at his friend’s mother.

‘Yes, ma’am. I promised Blaine to help him with the boxes.’

‘Like you helped him make up his mind about this transfer nonsense, I presume?’ The temperature of Mr Anderson’s voice was near freezing.

‘I made the decision to transfer, Kurt had nothing to do with that,’ Blaine said, gritting his teeth together.

Mr Anderson snorted, his facial expression caught between rage and cold cynicism.

‘But without that pixie boy you wouldn’t want to move to fucking Lima! Same difference!

Blaine’s anger was slowly beginning to boil over.

‘You didn’t notice me while I was here anyway. For you, it really is same difference. But I may actually get to know what it’s like to have a family.’

He didn’t wait for his words to sink in, but pushed on, almost knocking his parents out of the way. Kurt followed in his footsteps, keeping his eyes carefully down, his movements much more considerate than Blaine’s.

When they walked back downstairs with the first couple of boxes, the hallway was empty. The car was still in the driveway, but the boys didn’t stumble upon either of the Andersons again before leaving for Lima in the Navigator filled to its limits.

Nobody came out to say goodbye.

***

The drive to Lima passed in an unusual silence; normally at least one of the boys would be belting out whatever song was playing on the radio or they would be exchanging remarks about the latest Vogue cover, or the last pieces of celebrity gossip. But Kurt bit his tongue this time, knowing that Blaine needed a little space to calm down. Two hours on the road in peace and quiet were a good bet to do the trick.

By the time he pulled up in front of the house Blaine pointed him out as Aileen’s, Kurt decided his friend was close to being his normal self. Or close enough to fool someone who didn’t know him as well as Kurt.

‘You alright?,’ Kurt asked as he killed the engine and looked over at Blaine with concerned eyes.

Blaine nodded sharply, and they got out of the car into the street flooded with midday summer sunlight. It didn’t take long for Aileen, with Goldie running at her side, to rush out to greet them. Her face was split in half by a huge smile, as she made her way through the driveway.

‘Hi, guys!’ She grabbed Blaine in a hug without delay, then backed out to look at Kurt, her grin never ceasing. ‘You must be Kurt.’

He beamed back at her; it was a nice change after the welcome the Andersons had given him just a few hours earlier. Goldie was already licking Blaine’s hand to make him pet her.

‘Indeed. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms Young,’ he said, bowing his head a little.

‘Oh, come on, it’s Aileen. Blaine’s told me so much about you!’ Kurt cast a querying glance at his friend, who made a shocked face and shook his head. ‘Okay, not that much, but he said you’re his best friend, so I feel obligated to like you.’

God, he could already feel he was going to like this woman.

And he could see from the corner of his eye that the remnants of Blaine’s tension were seeping away.

With three people to carry the boxes, moving Blaine into the house took less than fifteen minutes. His new room was relatively small, but it had everything he needed. The walls were painted dark blue, the furniture – a broad bed, desk, chair and a few book shelves – were wooden and looked brand new. Aileen admitted to them that she had used the room mostly for storing stuff she was too lazy to sort or put into the small attic.

When Blaine went back to the Navigator for one last box, Kurt stayed in his room with Aileen, fumbling at the curtains and looking out into the tiny back yard.

‘They were being difficult, weren’t they?,’ she asked quietly, when Blaine disappeared in the hallway.

‘What?’ Kurt spun around.

‘My sister and her husband.’

Kurt frowned; it seemed she was a really good shrink.

‘Yeah, they were.’ He sighed and flopped down onto the bed. ‘But it’s my fault. They’re not particularly fond of me.’

He sent Aileen a grimace, as she walked up to sit next to him.

‘Then it’s not your fault, it’s theirs.’ She gave him a little smile. ‘If they can’t see that you’re a good, caring person, it’s their loss.’

‘How do you know I am that? You don’t even know me.’ Kurt shrugged, looking away.

‘I can tell. And from what Blaine had told me, you really are that.’ She patted him lightly on the shoulder.

‘Um- I’ll go see if he needs some help or something,’ Kurt said awkwardly, getting back up. Aileen was nice, but… strange. ‘And thanks.’

She furrowed her brow.

‘What for?’

‘For helping him. And for not judging him. Or me.’

Her typical Aileen grin crept back onto her face.

‘You’re welcome.’