Chapter 1

Kurt huffed, rolling his eyes prominently in hope the bishop would notice. Nobody else ever wanted to anger the bishop, but to Kurt that was one of few sources of entertainment during Sunday service that was always dragging out to eternity.

He hated every second he spent on listening to the never-ending sermons every other week. This world that was literally backwards had already managed to make him bitter beyond his seventeen years. Puberty had only made his irritability more prominent, and now it was reaching its peak. He hated puberty almost as much as he hated the church. Everything that adolescence entailed was bad: the months of terrible complexion, the voice change that never really came, school ending (and unlike ninety per cent of fourteen-year-olds, he had truly loved learning), and working at the farm. Apart from all those disasters, there came the greatest one, even though he refused to see it as such.

From a very young age Kurt knew something was different about him. At first he'd thought it was because he was adopted. Ultimately, it had to make him an outsider in some capacity at least. But when he reached the age of thirteen and all the boys in the village seemed to suddenly realise there were girls around them, Kurt drew a much different conclusion. The thought of growing up to marry one of those girls was entirely unappealing. The boys, on the other hand, were a different story. The boys were wonderful. The boys were the ones that his eyes were drawn to and made his hormones boil inside him. The boys were from whom he wished he could choose a spouse.

It took long months for him to find out there were other people like him, words to describe who he was, and to finally realise that outside of the community that wasn't something one would get shunned for. There were even places where he could actually get married to a man, and he made it his life's mission to one day leave this goddamned village behind, find someone nice and have a beautiful English wedding with a man. He was counting the days till his eighteenth birthday, saving every penny for the trip to get the life he'd always dreamt of.

His thoughts drifted off to the plans he'd been making for years, and his eyes wandered absently to the benches where the men of the Anderson family were sitting. He stopped the sigh that tried to escape from his mouth just in the nick of time. There was no need to draw his father's attention, especially as he was focusing his gaze on the beautiful hazel-eyed boy with a mop of shiny curls.

Blaine Anderson had been the object of Kurt's secret affection for some months now. He was probably the kindest person Kurt had ever known, with a gentle smile and eyes that lit up the whole room. His arms were muscled and strong from physical work, making Kurt want to touch them, touch him, so badly he sometimes had to grit his teeth together not to act upon his sinful feelings. After all, Blaine was also the bishop's youngest son, the reverent boy, completely faithful to the Amish teachings. The chances that somehow he would be attracted to another boy, let alone to Kurt, were awfully slim. So Kurt took as much pleasure from watching Blaine from afar as he could. There was no harm in imagining to be combing his fingers through Blaine's curls, was there?

Then, suddenly, the dark-haired boy turned his eyes to Kurt, just for a fleeting little moment. His lips tugged upwards at the corners in that soft smile that always made Kurt's chest grow warm. Kurt smiled back before turning his eyes away, his cheeks flooding with bright pink.

***

Blaine could tell somebody was watching him. That strange heavy feeling of somebody's gaze on him was strong, but somehow not entirely unwelcome. It took a great amount of self-discipline for him to resist glancing in the direction where he sensed the watcher would be seated. But the gaze was boring into him too intensely to ignore it, and finally he gave in, stealing a glimpse to the right.

The most beautiful blue eyes he'd ever seen were definitely glued to him. Almost involuntarily, Blaine smiled shyly at Kurt.

It made him feel guilty to think this way of Kurt Hershberger. It was wrong. It was girls' eyes that he was supposed to admire, those doors to his potential future wives' souls. His father kept on reminding him that soon enough he should start courting some nice girl, preferably one of their neighbours, Hannah, whose family had much land and only one son and two daughters.

Blaine couldn't deny, Hannah was a lovely girl with a round face and dimples in her cheeks. But looking at her felt much like looking at his sisters. He felt nothing but mild friendliness and kindness for her. He tried to evoke stronger feelings for other girls in himself, encouraged by his friends' first crushes, to absolutely no avail.

But every time he looked at Kurt, his heart began to flutter, a fuzzy feeling almost making his chest explode. And if Kurt returned his gaze, God, it made him feel like the happiest person in the world. Until he reminded himself it was wrong, it was a sin, it was the forbidden fruit to ever wonder what it would be like to kiss those full lips, to hold those hands...

He glanced at his father, who was completely consumed by the sermon he was giving, and sighed with relief. Blaine would rather not have his father angry with him for not paying attention to the service. What was going on in his head had to stay inside it, no one could ever know. If they found out... He'd be shunned, disowned, he'd lose everything. He'd be the disappointment his father had always told him he was. That was something Blaine simply couldn't bear.

So reluctantly and languidly, he turned his gaze away from Kurt, the weight of the blue eyes on his body still almost tangible, even though they weren't resting on him anymore.

***

The service dragged out so long that when lunch finally came, Kurt was half-starved to death. As soon as the last song died, he was at the richly set tables. Food was one of few highlights of Sunday service, especially on weeks like this one, when the hostess was an excellent cook. Kurt usually wasn't too keen on overeating, but after three hours worth of bullshit, he believed he deserved a treat. Even if that meant he would have to work a little harder on Monday to burn the surplus calories. Fat was something he detested on his body. He'd had enough of the baby kind until too recently to like the thing in any form or on any part of his body.

He was just munching on his second helping of snitz pie, when someone stopped to his left, catching his attention. It felt as if his eyes were drawn magnet-like to the person next to him.

Blaine was standing with his hands dug deep into his pockets, apparently trying to seem relaxed. He wasn't very convincing; his shoulders were tense, his tiny smile twitching nervously.

'Hi,' Kurt choked out, almost spluttering his pie onto the other boy.

'Hi,' Blaine muttered. 'I- I just came to get a slice.'

He gestured vaguely towards the pie, without looking in the direction. The courage he'd built up during the remaining of the service was entirely gone. And he hadn't even planned on doing anything inappropriate! He only wanted to talk to Kurt. The last time they had a proper conversation had been too long ago to even count.

Kurt moved a little to the side, glancing furtively at Blaine, embarrassed for his awkwardness, but delighted by the other boy's closeness. For a split second, their bodies touched, hip to hip, as Blaine leant to get his pie. Kurt had to smother a gasp and almost choked on his half-chewed mouthful.

Blaine shivered, the touch half exciting, half terrifying.

A couple of furtive glances were exchanged, the boys' cheeks matching in shades of ruby. They ate their dessert in silence, standing arm in arm next to the already nearly abandoned table. Everyone around them was engaged in gossip, idle chit-chat or profound discussions of the day's sermons.

'I- I guess I'm gonna get some air,' Kurt mumbled, putting away his plate, and hesitated. 'Would you- Would you wanna join me?'

A genuinely joyful smile broke out on Blaine's lips.

'Sure, I'd love to.'

They made a bee line through the crowd towards the door, Blaine following Kurt closely behind. The air outside was crisp and chilly, the last ribbons of morning fog persisted over the fields. Here and there patches of fresher green could be spotted where new grass was beginning to grow. They strolled lazily into the orchard next to the house, and Kurt ran his fingers gently over the tiny budding leaves of an apple tree. He couldn't wait for nature to come back to life. The beautiful spring landscape of Holmes County was after all uniquely serene and breathtaking.

'Did you like the sermons today?,' Blaine asked tentatively, terrified he was the one breaking the silence.

Kurt sent him a sceptical look.

'No idea. I wasn't listening,' he answered in English, which caught Blaine off guard.

'Oh. So what were you doing in there for three hours?' Blaine didn't attempt switching the language back.

With a roll of the eyes and a smirk, Kurt turned to him.

'Nothing. Thinking. Watching- people.' He shrugged.

'What's so interesting in people that you would watch them?'

Kurt bit his lip, stopping the words that were threatening to boil over. Your eyes, your lips, your face, your arms, your legs, your adorable hair, your chest, your everything, he thought.

'You know, quirks. Your dad spits a lot when he's giving a sermon.'

A tinge of pink coloured Blaine's cheeks.

'He's passionate about it, I guess.'

'Sure he is.'

'So that's what you were thinking about? My father drooling over the congregation?'

They chuckled in unison, before realising they were right next to each other again. Kurt could feel Blaine's warm breath on the side of his neck.

Blaine's hands began to shake, so he crossed his arms over his chest.

'I wasn't thinking about your father,' Kurt mumbled eventually.

'What about then? If it's not a secret?'

Kurt sighed, taking a few steps forwards, just to be sure he was too far away to accidentally kiss Blaine. And, god, he wanted to so, so badly.

'You know I'm adopted, right?' Why did he even ask that? Everybody in this hellhole knew.

'Um, yeah, I know.'

He turned abruptly to Blaine, startling him. There was something oddly burning in those glasz eyes.

'Have you ever felt like you don't belong? Like you'd be better off elsewhere?' Kurt's voice sounded almost like an accusation.

'I guess. Doesn't everyone every once in a while?,' Blaine said rhetorically. A more definite answer was out of the question.

'I feel like that all the time. I hate this fucking place.'

Blaine flinched at the four-letter-word, but didn't say anything about it.

'Hate? Isn't that a bit much?,' he asked quietly.

'No,' Kurt replied firmly. 'I hate everything here. The church, the lack of civilisation, the horseshit wherever you go, the fucking buggies, the clothes, the people...'

His voice trailed off as he realised that in "people" he unintentionally included Blaine. The hazel eyes looked like someone turned off their light.

'All people?,' Blaine said weakly.

'Not all. Most of them. Not you.'

Blaine looked up at him with a frown.

'Why not me?'

Kurt shrugged dismissively.

'Could anyone hate you? You're Blaine, everyone loves you.'

A bitter laugh escaped Blaine's lips.

'Not everyone.' Querying blue eyes drilled into him for a good minute until he continued. 'It's just that- with every next one of us, my Dad's more demanding. He wants us to be better. Like we're some kind of machine that gets more perfect with each generation. Cooper could always do whatever he wanted. When he was my age, he even got drunk senseless, and still got away with a slap on the wrist. I get berated even if I forget to put on my hat when I go to the shed or to the barn.'

'Sorry,' Kurt said. If he'd ever liked the bishop, he'd probably reconsider it now.

'So, to answer your question, yes, I sometimes feel like I don't belong. Like I'm too flawed to be an Anderson.'

Kurt smiled sadly at him.

'Guess it's good to know I'm not the only one to think that here.'

'Yeah, I guess.'

'But I'm going to leave,' Kurt added decisively. 'When I'm eighteen, I'm getting the hell out of here.'

'Where will you go?' Blaine could feel his heart imploding. Why was he even reacting like that? They weren't even really friends.

'I'm going to find my real father.'