Chapter 2

Something changed. Neither Kurt nor Blaine could tell what it was, but both could sense a shift in the world. Maybe it was the unusually warm weather which surprised everyone so early in March, or maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, their spirits were lifted and sunk simultaneously. That strange fluttering in their stomachs was at times nauseating, but still miraculously pleasant. Kurt even started humming to himself absently as he fed the animals on Monday. He'd keep on doing so without realising it, if not for his younger sister Miriam, who told him very pointedly that singing was a sign of pride, unless directed to the heavens above.

So he tried to control himself. Usually, he wanted to pass by his family unnoticed. He'd always pick pissing other people off, not them. No matter how much he hated most of them for their small-mindedness, they still saved him from the foster system. And all he'd ever heard about that made it seem like it wasn't a picnic even in comparison to being Amish.

Meanwhile, Blaine spent the first half of the week reliving that strange walk in the orchard with Kurt. It was thrilling to see the boy's figure from afar, as he tried to recall the exact dots and stripes in his irises, or the scent that rolled off his skin. He wished, ached even, to see Kurt again, to talk to him again. Yet every time he started heading towards the Hershbergers' farm, he stopped dead in his tracks, afraid of what could happen next.

The strong urge to be near Kurt was terrifying. It was difficult to even name it, but it was like a magnet, pulling him in Kurt's direction, entirely against his will. He never wanted to dream of holding Kurt's hand, kissing him even. That was never his wish. How could he want that? He was a man, Kurt was a man. It was sinful to even think of that.

Still the pull didn't wane. If anything, it grew stronger with each day that Blaine spent leaving his duties unattended to as he watched Kurt over the stretch of land that separated the Andersons' farm from the Hershbergers'.

On Thursday evening he gave up.

Work was done for the day, but the dinner wasn't still quite ready. Kurt loved having this moment to himself. In a normal house, he'd offer his help with setting the table, but here it was his mother and sister that took care of all the kitchen work. So he used the free time to be alone and whenever the weather was nice enough, he would stroll to the lonely old oak tree at the edge of their property. Sometimes he'd even catch a glimpse of Blaine in the distance.

To his surprise, though, that night he barely managed to settle heavily on the ground, when he noticed a figure coming briskly his way through the Andersons' rye field with his hat in his hand. The bouncing curls made Kurt's heart skip a beat.

Without a word, Blaine came up all the way to the tree and sat crossed-legged next to Kurt.

'Nice to see you, too?,' Kurt offered, eyeing Blaine in astonishment.

'Hi.' Blaine smiled shyly, unsure what to do or say.

'May I ask what you're doing here? You know, this is supposed to be my safe place, I'm not sure I want to let just anyone come here.'

The teasing in Kurt's voice was obvious, making Blaine's nervousness ease a little.

'Am I just anyone? You said yourself you hate everyone but me, so-'

His voice trailed off into silence. Was that flirting? Was he flirting with a boy?

Kurt chuckled, pleasantly surprised that Blaine remembered his words and the easy charming tone he used.

'I guess I might have said something along the lines,' Kurt admitted. 'But you still haven't answered my question. To what do I owe the honour of having you here?' He waved his hand in the deepest bow he could pull off without standing up.

'Can't a friend visit another friend?,' Blaine asked, as his eyes escaped through the fields and away from Kurt.

'Point is, I don't think we really qualify as friends. We went to school together for seven years, yeah, but beside that, I think we actually talked like five times.'

A barely noticeable trace of longing crept into his voice, but he felt like he was screaming it on top of his lungs.

'How many people have you told you wanted to leave, though?'

Kurt bit his lip in embarrassment, before mumbling out the answer.

'One.'

'See? The things you told me, these are things people tell their friends. And I don't think you have many more of them.'

'No use to be mean,' Kurt grumbled back. 'Other people wouldn't understand.'

He snuck a glance at Blaine, whose face scrunched up in a frown.

'Why do you think I would?'

''Cause you're understanding.' Kurt shrugged, unsure he even knew what he meant. 'You're not judgemental. You're not- You're not so fucking stupid, or narrow-minded like all of them.'

'I don't know if I should take it as a compliment, or an insult to the whole community,' Blaine said after a moment's consideration, hoping for Kurt's answer to be the former.

'Take it however you like, it's the truth.'

Silence fell between them, along with a gradually deepening darkness. Blaine leant on the oak's broad trunk, his shoulder brushing against Kurt's. They were so close, too close again, eyes sparkling in the soft spring dusk.

'Why do you think I'm not judgemental?,' Blaine finally asked in a whisper. Speaking any louder right now would feel like screaming.

'Are you?,' Kurt breathed back.

There was so little space between them his head was spinning, and if there ever was a daredevil in him, it was in that moment.

'I don't- I don't think I am,' Blaine stuttered.

His gaze fell to that mouth that was all too close for their own good. He licked his lips, imagining what Kurt's would taste like.

A second later he didn't have to imagine anything.

It felt strange in the best possible way. Kurt's mouth locked gently on Blaine's for a few seconds, but that was enough to send their brains in spirals and their hearts in ill-paced races. They broke apart shakily, gasping for breath, stunned and still blissful.

'Are you?,' Kurt repeated the question, forcing Blaine into eye contact with his hand cupping the other boy's chin.

'No.'

Somewhere behind the tree and their backs, a woman's voice echoed, calling Kurt.

'I have to go,' he whispered, pushing a stray curl away from Blaine's forehead. 'Same time tomorrow?,' he offered tentatively.

For a second Blaine hesitated, making Kurt fully aware that right now a refusal would break his heart beyond repair. He cursed himself internally for getting his hopes up and acting on his feelings.

'Same time tomorrow,' Blaine answered finally in a shaky voice.

And with a brush of lips against Blaine's cheek, Kurt ran off into the night.