Kurt forces himself out of the hallway and into the parlor, empty except for a maid dusting the ledge on the fire place. Kurt grabs a book off the shelf, In Our Time by Hemingway, and opens it up to the middle, picking out a story at random. He reads through a few, barely letting the words digest before turning the page. He glances up at the clock and sees not even fifteen minutes have passed. He sighs.

He hears a loud knock echo throughout the entrance way and he jumps up immediately, has to force himself not to run to the door to open it. ”I’ll get it, Annie,” Kurt calls out to the maid, walking as slowly as his feet will allow over to the door.

The door is big and heavy, but Kurt swings it open as if it’s weightless. Blaine stands on the other side, already dressed in his bathing suit, leaning against the door with his arms crossed. Kurt looks over his swimming suit, one of the more modern two pieces made out of some new fabric that clings to the body and making a belt unnecessary. It’s tight everywhere, around Blaine’s chest, across his back, and only a few inches of fabric cover the tops of Blaine’s thighs.

“That has to break some indecency law,” Kurt says as Blaine walks inside.

“I picked it up the last time we were in Europe. It’s all the rage over there,” Blaine says as Kurt leads them through the house. They pass through the parlor and the dining room, making their way through the sunning room and out the back door onto the lawn. Blaine catches Kurt by the shoulder and asks, “is that what you plan on wearing?”

Kurt glances down. He has his bathing suit on, a more modest one piece that’s loser than Blaine’s, but he’s wearing a light sweater and knickers over it. As if he’d be brazen enough to wear his swimming suit out in the open. ”I have it on underneath,” Kurt informs him. ”Some of us have decency when out in public,” he says, but it’s without bite.

Blaine chuckles and throws an arm over Kurt’s shoulder, presses their bodies close together. “I didn’t realize your family’s private property was considered public.”

“Well, I didn’t mean that exactly,” Kurt says, words flustered as Blaine tightens his hold against Kurt’s shoulder and then lets go.

“You’re going to go fully dressed down to the water?” Blaine says, hand on his hips and a smile playing on his lips.

“I suppose not,” Kurt mumbles. Kurt removes his sweater and knickerbockers, folding the clothes and placing them on the grass. He stands in his bathing suit, not anywhere near as tight as Blaine’s, and holds his hands out. “Better?”

“Mmmm,” Blaine hums, lets his eyes drift up and down Kurt’s newly exposed skin. “Much better.”

They walk through the lawn, grass tickling the bottoms of their feet, and over to the stairs. The steps are built right into the cliff, carved into the stone and leading down into the water. The stairs don’t lead to sand, but rather large flat rocks, only reachable during low tide. The tide is out now, and the rocks are dry and open. Kurt leads them down, one step at a time. When he turns his head to ask Blaine a question, he’s met with an eyeful of Blaine’s legs, his tight swimming shorts riding up until Kurt can see the line where tanned skin meets pale thigh. He misses the next step and almost falls, but he feels strong arms around his waist steady him.

“Are you all right?” Blaine asks quickly, arms still tight around Kurt’s middle.

Kurt lets himself lean back into the pressure for just a moment before straightening himself up and answering, “just a loose rock. These steps are old.” Blaine just smiles and lets go of Kurt and they finish the climb down to the water.

They reach the rocks, the edges covered with slippery green algae. Kurt sets his towel down and dips his toes in the ocean. It’s freezing, it’s always freezing, but it feels wonderful with the sun beating down on his exposed arms and shoulders. He turns to Blaine, ready to take his towel and place next to Kurt’s, when he sees Blaine taking off the top to his bathing suit. Kurt coughs, quickly covering his mouth with his hand. He wants to ask Blaine what he’s doing, but his voice is caught in his throat.

Kurt’s eyes catch on the first exposed piece of skin, Blaine’s lower stomach, muscled and lightly covered in hair. His eyes trail up, taking in Blaine’s chest, blushing and turning his head away when his eyes land on Blaine’s nipples. He catches movement out of the corner of his eye and realizes that Blaine is pulling down his swimming shorts as well.

“Blaine! What are you doing?” Kurt yelps, fighting to keep his eyes focused on the water and nowhere near Blaine.

“What? I don’t see any dames around, do you?” Blaine laughs. Kurt can see his profile, the skin on his stomach paler than the skin on his shoulders. “Besides, it feels amazing this way, with nothing between you and the water.” He’s walking to the edge of the rock, he back to Kurt, and Kurt can’t help when his eyes sneak over. He takes in Blaine’s back, watches as the muscles stretch and contort when he drops his toes into the water. He lets his eyes wander further down, passed the nip in Blaine’s waist and the dip in Blaine’s lower back, to his ass that is round and firm. Kurt blushes instantly, his eyes wide as saucers, and quickly looks back to the ocean.

He hears Blaine’s body hit the water, the cold water splashing up and hitting Kurt, too. Their towels are soaked, but Kurt can’t find it in himself to care when Blaine pops up, shaking his head from side to side. His naked body is obstructed by the water and Kurt can’t see anything clearly from his shoulders down.

“Haven’t you ever swam like this before?” Blaine calls out, floating on his back and lazily kicking his legs in the water.

“I certainly haven’t,” Kurt huffs out. “I, unlike you, seem to have morals.”

Blaine laughs, bright and cheerful. “There’s nothing moral about the way your arms look in that bathing suit.”

Kurt is completely flabbergasted, sputtering before he finally chokes out, “excuse me? What did you say?”

“I said, ‘won’t you please join me in the water, Kurt?’” Blaine says as he swims back over to the rock, holding on to the side.

Kurt looks at Blaine, his wide eyes and smile bright, the water washing away the product he uses to keep his hair flat. His hair actually has a curl to it, Kurt notices, the ends of his hair wavy where it sticks to Blaine’s forehead. Kurt can see peeks of Blaine’s body in the water, bits of skin here and there, and decides he needs a distraction. He slips into the water, the coldness hitting him square in the chest and the salt water stinging his sun-pinked shoulders.

“About time!” Blaine calls out, as he swims a few yards out.

They swim until they lose track of time, toes and fingers wrinkling. The sun warms their faces, but their bodies stay cold in the water. The contrasting feelings make Kurt a little light headed, and it’s certainly not because of the way Blaine’s arm flexes when he skips a rock over the water.

“I’m getting a little cold,” Kurt calls over to Blaine. Blaine dunks his head under the water one more time before popping up, his arms and shoulders cutting through the water as he swims over to Kurt.

They pull themselves back on the rocks, Kurt averting his eyes while Blaine pulls on his shorts. They lay together stretched out, towels forgotten and letting the sun dry them off.

“So you live in New York?” Kurt asks as he soaks up the sun. He can feel his skin turning red, but he couldn’t care less.

“Fifth Avenue. But you don’t live in New York, do you? I’m sure I would have met you,” Blaine says as he rolls onto his side to look at Kurt closer. “I know I would have remembered meeting you.”

“Philadelphia,” Kurt answers. His skin feels tight, like it’s a size too small, and he’s not sure if it’s from the salt water or from the way Blaine is looking at him.

“So does that mean the University of Pennsylvania in the fall?” Blaine asks, and Kurt can feel him move a little closer.

“Yale, actually,” Kurt says, his throat suddenly dry. “And where are you headed?”

Kurt watches as Blaine’s chest expands in a large sigh. “Harvard. It’s where my grandfather went and my father, my brother. It’s what’s expected of me as an Anderson.”

“But it’s not where you want to be?” Kurt asks slowly, carefully.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Blaine asks as he moves impossibly closer to Kurt. Kurt’s flat on his back, but he has his neck turned to face Blaine. Blaine’s on side, arm cradling his head and looking right at Kurt.

“Of course,” Kurt says softly and wonders why he’s whispering. He closes his eyes and lets himself pretend that Blaine will tell him his biggest secret, whisper in his ear that he doesn’t want a wife or girlfriend. Lean over and kiss Kurt, on the rocks and under the sun and with his lips tasting like sea water.

“I want to be in pictures,” Blaine says, a smile breaking out across his face.

Kurt feels his heart snap and he lets out a laugh, can’t think of anything else to do. “Your father would never allow that.”

Blaine rolls from his side onto his back, sighing loudly. “I know, of course I know. But it’s what I really want.” Blaine pauses and turns to face Kurt, looks him right in the eye when he says, “and they’re just more…accepting out there.”

A million things race through Kurt’s mind at once. He’s about to ask Blaine what he meant, if Kurt’s reading too far into Blaine’s words or if he’s exactly right. But a wave kicks up and splashes them around the feet and the moment is broken. Blaine jumps back when the child water hits his skin and Kurt almost reaches out to pull him back.

“The tide’s coming back in, we should head up,” Blaine says as he picks himself up and grabs their things.

Kurt gets up slowly, eyes on Blaine’s naked back the whole time, and follows behind Blaine as they climb up the stairs.