Now that Blaine had made the decision to stay in the future he devoted his time, once spent researching how he could get home, looking into actually making a life in the modern time. Up until now, he'd been living here like he was on a vacation of sorts and that couldn't continue now that he was here for good. He hit a snag almost straight away. Looking at entry into a college course to study music, he realised it would be impossible for him to get in. He hadn't just left his friends and family back in 1923, but his own past as well. His qualifications from high school, all his papers - his entire past was worthless in this time. Everything that had happened in his life up to the day he'd arrived in the twenty-first century was now useless.

Slumping back into his chair, Blaine stared dejectedly at the laptop screen currently displaying the details for the music degree he'd never be able to study. With no valid high school qualifications and no education history he could reveal there was no way he could get into college. And it wasn't only college that was the problem - would he be able to get any job or live his life to the full without a past?

He rubbed his hand over his face, blocking his view of the computer screen. He hadn't really thought this through. He'd thought long and hard about the emotional aspects of staying, of leaving his friends and family and everything he knew behind, but he'd given very little thought to the practical ones. Staying in this time was supposed to give him the freedom he couldn't get back in the twenties, but it looked like he wouldn't be able to completely achieve his dreams here, either. He couldn't get in to study music, and probably couldn't get any sort of job to earn some money to support himself. He couldn't keep living off of Kurt, cruising through life doing nothing all day. He wanted to live the life he'd always dreamed of: making a living from his music and going home to the love of his life each night; but with no papers or history and the year 1901 printed on his birth certificate, it all looked very unlikely.

Feeling defeated, Blaine shut down the computer, averting his eyes from the screen as he closed the webpage on the college course of his dreams. Getting to his feet, he crossed the apartment slowly and sank down on the window seat in a trance-like state, barely seeing the view of the street through the window.

What if, after making the decision to stay and getting his hopes up over living in an almost idealistic world with Kurt, he was forced to return to his own time? Maybe the reason why the characters in all the time travel fiction he'd pursued over the last few weeks had returned to their own time was because they couldn't actually live in a time other than their own. When he thought about it, it made sense: the world and its people changed and advanced so much as years went by, a person from a time many years apart would find it difficult to integrate themselves, and that was even without considering the problem with identity. Identity was such a big issue; he couldn't believe he'd never thought about it before. Birth certificates, passports, licences... Proving who you were was even more of an issue these days from what he'd gathered, but even if he hadn't known he should have thought he would be required to show someone his date of birth or something to do with his past at some point, especially after deciding to live here. He'd been so ignorant.

Blinking his eyes back into focus and looking away from the window he'd been staring unseeingly out of, Blaine checked the time on his pocket watch and his spirits lifted; Kurt would be home from work soon; he'd be able to talk this mess through with him and maybe, hopefully, even have a solution. And he'd get to see Kurt, which never failed to brighten his mood. Even seeing him every day didn't diminish the happiness and warmth he felt upon seeing his boyfriend.

Now that he was watching the time with anticipation it seemed to drag, each minute crawling by at a frustratingly slow pace. He tried to pass the time by watching the street out the window and soon found himself once again marvelling at the modern world, something he still did on a daily basis. It would be a while before he would be able to go a day without admiring some aspect of twenty-first century living, and he wondered if he'd ever stop comparing the two eras he'd experienced.

As he watched the world go by he remembered Kurt's question from a few weeks back, the one he'd asked as they'd stood in Time's Square after a day of wandering round the city: had things changed for the better or for worse?

Back then he hadn't been sure of his answer - he didn't feel he'd experienced enough of this time to give a true answer - but he'd been here a little longer now, had decided to stay here...

Giving an answer wasn't any easier than it had been back when Kurt had first asked. He still wanted to give the same vague response as he had done before: some things had changed for the better, but some not so much. The increasing abandonment of the old, close-minded attitudes was definitely a good thing, as was the greater freedom in self-expression, whether that be through opinions or fashion. In some ways, this time was less rigid and more laidback, but in others less so. More advances in science and technology had greatly improved the world, but he had his doubts about others. Like cell phones - sure, it was fantastic being able to always contact your friends and family, but they seemed to replace actual social contact a lot of the time, plus from what he'd seen they caused longer working hours. During commuting and lunch breaks people worked from their phones, and he'd seen Kurt receiving calls and emails from his boss on weekends. Back in his time when you left work for the day that was it, you didn't have anything to do with it until you returned for the next day's work. Life seemed more work-driven and stressful these days.

A key turned in the lock and Blaine spun away from the window, pulling himself out of his musings and feeling the corners of his mouth tug up into a welcoming smile as the door opened and Kurt entered the apartment.

"Blaine?" he called out, eyes on the box in his hands as he juggled it and his door keys. "I'm home, honey!"

Getting to his feet, Blaine walked over to greet him. "Honey?"

Kurt's eyes snapped up, his smile widening when his gaze met Blaine's, before embarrassment began to creep into his eyes. His cheeks flushed a light pink. "Did I-? Sorry, too cheesy?"

Blaine shook his head, smiling brightly as he moved closer to kiss him. "I like it," he admitted, the warmth still swirling pleasantly in his belly from hearing the affectionate pet name. He took the box out of Kurt's hands, allowing him to shrug off his satchel. "What's in the box?" He peered down at it curiously, not recognising the name stamped across the lid.

"Cake," Kurt replied brightly, leading the way through to the kitchen. Following him, Blaine watched his shoulders lift in a shrug. "I passed a bakery on the way home and just thought it would be nice. Rachel's home for dinner tonight, but she can't have any 'cause it's not vegan." He was leaning against the counter now, a small smirk on his face.

Blaine looked at him. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Kurt's smirk widened. "Maybe..." Blaine poked at his waist, causing Kurt to squirm away from him. "I feel like eating cake and I don't particularly feel like sharing it," he said, laughing.

Setting the box of cake down on the counter, Blaine pouted at him. "Not even with me?"

Kurt pretended to consider this for a moment, before bending down to kiss Blaine's pout. "I'll make an exception for you." He turned away to grab some ingredients for dinner from the cupboard. "How was your day?"

Blaine sobered, his smile fading as everything from earlier rushed back to the forefront of his mind, dampening the light cheeriness he'd felt upon Kurt's arrival. He watched Kurt smile softly as he pulled vegetables out of the fridge. He wondered if he should keep his worries to himself for the time being; he didn't particularly want to put a downer on the evening, not when Kurt was happy and carefree and had spontaneously bought a cake.

"Blaine?"

Kurt had stopped and was peering at him with his brow furrowed in concern. Blaine forced a smile, deciding to tell Kurt about it later, not wanting to spoil what was looking to be an enjoyable evening.

He gave his head a small shake. "Sorry. My day was good, thank you. How was work? Did your meeting go ok?" His reply sounded stiff to his own ears.

Kurt wasn't to be fooled. He narrowed his eyes slightly and took a step closer. "What's wrong?" he asked. "What happened?"

"Noth-" Blaine cut off his false assurance when Kurt folded his arms in front of his chest and gave him a look which plainly said he wasn't going to accept any lies. Blaine sighed in defeat.

"I started looking into college courses for music today."

Kurt's frown deepened into one of confusion.

Blaine lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I don't know why I never realised this before - I was looking at the admission requirements and I realised: I don't have a valid history: no academic past, no references, no paperwork of any kind - my birth certificate has the year 1901 on it!" He swallowed thickly. "I don't know if I can stay here, Kurt."

Kurt's mouth opened and then closed again. He obviously hadn't thought of this either. He lifted his right hand up to his forehead, pinching the skin there between his thumb and forefinger as he frowned in thought. Blaine watched him in silence, his hope he would present some magic solution fading with every passing second.

"This won't hold you back from anything," Kurt said determinedly without looking up.

Blaine didn't respond to this, thinking Kurt was only trying to keep his hopes up.

"You can get a high school diploma, no problem. As for the rest of it, well, there are other ways to get the papers you need."

Blaine had to say something now. "How?" he asked.

Lowering his hand, Kurt turned his head to look at him. His eyes were distant and unfocused, lost in whatever plan was brewing in his head. And there was something else there, too; something like shame - Blaine couldn't really describe it, but it didn't bode well for whatever Kurt was thinking.

"There are people out there who make a living out of forging identities for people - passports, driver's licences, birth certificates: you name it, they make it."

Unease stirred inside Blaine like a tiny creature in his gut. He probably should have been feeling hopeful, but he couldn't help but worry about where this was going. He didn't like the sound of it.

Kurt shifted his weight to his other foot, looking decidedly uncomfortable with what he was saying. "Some of them do a really good job and fool the authorities with their work," he continued. He couldn't look Blaine in the eye as he spoke, choosing instead to dart his gaze around the kitchen. "We could go to one of these people - one of the better ones - and get you a valid birth certificate - anything you need to live here."

Blaine bit his lip. It was more than just unease upsetting his stomach now. "Are you suggesting we break the law?" he asked slowly. He knew the answer, but was stunned at what Kurt was suggesting and needed to hear his justifications behind it.

"I don't think we really have any other option," Kurt replied.

Blaine stared at him, still trying to wrap his mind around what Kurt was suggesting. "And you'll do that? You'll break the law for me?"

Kurt nodded. "I said I'd do everything I could to help you. What you want may have changed, but my promise hasn't."

Blaine stepped closer to Kurt and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. He nuzzled his head closer to Kurt's neck when his arms slid up to hold him close. "Thank you," Blaine whispered, "for everything."

Kurt rubbed his back in response, ducking his head and pressing a kiss to Blaine's temple. Blaine closed his eyes and allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of being held. Nobody had ever hugged him like this before; his parents weren't overly affectionate people, he'd never been in a relationship before, and it wasn't considered right for two male friends to hug each other more than the one-armed pat on the back. It was nice - more than nice. It soothed him, calming his frayed nerves and released the tension from his muscles, but at the same time being so close to Kurt sent sharp sparks of pleasure through him and made his heart beat in a whole new rhythm. It was such a simple gesture, hugging, yet it made him feel incredible.

Kurt's hold on him tightened and Blaine rubbed his cheek a little against Kurt's shoulder. Kurt's scent was all around him, filling his nostrils each time he breathed, and it was simultaneously comforting and seductive. He inhaled deeply and turned his head to kiss Kurt's shoulder.

"Blaine..." Kurt breathed, smoothing a hand down Blaine's spine, his touch leaving behind a trail of warmth and pleasurable shivers.

They were both so lost in each other that they didn't hear the front door thud shut or the sound of Rachel calling out a greeting. They both started when she entered the kitchen and spoke.

"You two are adorable."

Feeling a little annoyed at the interruption, Blaine stepped back out of Kurt's embrace. A blush warmed his cheeks at Rachel's words and from being caught in an intimate moment. He ducked his head bashfully when Rachel looked his way.

"This is why I've been spending more time out lately. I feel like I'm always imposing on a private moment when I'm around you guys," Rachel said, leaning against the counter. "It's like you have your own little world or something."

Blaine looked up and met Kurt's gaze. He knew he was thinking the same as he was: how it did feel like they were in their own private world when they were together, separate from the millions crowding the New York streets, and where everything seemed just that little bit brighter.

Rachel had spotted the cake box and was now lifting its lid curiously. "Ooh, who bought cake?" she asked keenly.

Kurt tore his eyes away from Blaine. "It's not vegan," he informed her. The teasing smirk from earlier was back.

Rachel whipped around to glare at him. "Kurt!"

"What?" he asked innocently.

Rachel rested her hands on her hips. "What did we agree about bringing home baked goods?"

"They should be vegan, share with your best friend- yeah, yeah," Kurt brushed off with a roll of his eyes. "But most of the time the non-vegan stuff is better."

Rachel pushed herself away from the counter. "Fine," she conceded, "don't think of me." She began walking out of the kitchen. "Enjoy your cake - I hope you choke on it," she added teasingly over her shoulder, before disappearing in the direction of her room.

"Drama queen," Kurt muttered.

"I heard that!"

"You love the title!" Kurt shouted back in her direction. "Don't deny it!"

Blaine smiled at their antics as Kurt turned back to him, an amused smile still playing on his lips.

"Still want to stay here?" Kurt asked lightly. "You'll have to eat vegan desserts or suffer Rachel's whining."

Blaine laughed and started helping Kurt to prepare dinner. Watching Kurt and Rachel had brought back memories of the number of times he and Wes had thrown teasing remarks at each other and argued mildly over silly things. A small wave of homesickness and sadness washed over him, but it was weaker than the previous ones that had engulfed him in the past, the pain and yearning for home duller, easier to ignore. It was more a gentle lapping of the sea on a calm day than a tsunami wave force. He was sure he would always miss Wes and his family, but standing here in Kurt's kitchen, his boyfriend's hip bumping affectionately against his own, he could say with confidence the pros of staying out-weighed the cons.

There must have been something in his expression, for Kurt placed a hand on his arm, turning him away from the salad he was preparing.

"You'll be able to make the life you dreamt of having here; I promise," he said softly.

It hadn't been what Blaine was worrying about, but he nodded and accepted Kurt's kiss all the same. As Kurt stroked his cheek and tilted his head to deepen the kiss, he hoped the homesickness wouldn't return to tsunami force again and threaten to destroy the life he was trying to build here, or his relationship with Kurt.

After doing a bit of research and contacting an old college friend of Kurt's who had once purchased a fake I.D., they found someone who would be able to make the documents Blaine needed. They were both extremely uncomfortable with the whole business, but they had no other choice and Kurt insisted it would be fine, that people did it all the time. Still, they both kept their heads low and wore sunglasses and nondescript clothing when they went to obtain the document s from a place that fronted as a print shop. Blaine kept expecting police to jump out and arrest them, a feeling that stayed with him long after they left the shop, forged papers in hand, so he spent the evening on tenterhooks, jumping when Rachel came home and when the phone rang.

He didn't particularly like the idea of staying at the apartment alone the next day while Kurt and Rachel were both at work, but the thought of going out somewhere - as Kurt kept suggesting he do - appealed to him even less, so he stayed in, looking at college degrees again to try and keep himself from fretting over the illegal papers now sitting in his room. He kept telling himself that without those papers he couldn't live here, couldn't live the life he had chosen and dreamed of, but it didn't ease his worries any.

He felt a little better when he applied to get his high school diploma. Once the six month course was complete a number of opportunities would be open to him - it was the first step to getting a place on the college course of his dreams.

Having read up on everything to do with music degrees at various colleges in New York, Blaine was left with little to do. Kurt wasn't due home for another couple of hours, he still didn't particularly want to go out anywhere, and had reached the point where he'd been sitting doing something for so long he had become too lazy to go do anything else. He flicked aimlessly through the internet, looking at anything and everything that came to mind, his eyes drifting to the little clock at the bottom of the screen every now and then as he counted down the hours until Kurt was due home.

He was looking at the websites of various music stores in the city when a small advertisement on one of them caught his eye. He sat up straighter in his chair and pulled the laptop a little closer to him.

It was an advertisement for a piano teacher to give lessons to mostly beginner to intermediate-level children. They were looking for someone to start immediately to give lessons four afternoons and two evenings a week at a small store not too far from the apartment.

Blaine re-read the advertisement longingly. It sounded ideal; something to do with himself until he began college and a way to earn money so he wouldn't have to rely on Kurt so much. He sighed as he looked at the brief list of requirements. They didn't mention any kind of qualification, but surely they would want that; they wouldn't employ someone with no professional experience in music.

He gazed at the advert wistfully for a moment longer, before clicking off the website and shutting down the computer. He could wish all he wanted but he'd never be able to get a job like that, no matter how perfect for him it would be.

Though he'd done it two days previously, he spent the hour and a half until Kurt was due home cleaning the apartment: vacuuming the already clean floors and wiping down the spotless surfaces. He threw all his concentration into the task, scrubbing vigorously at the gleaming kitchen sink until there was a light sheen of sweat on his lower back and forehead. He worked hard so there was no time for his mind to linger over how useless he was in this time.

When Kurt arrived home he did his best to pretend everything was fine: kissing him in greeting and smiling to hide how much he felt like a waste of space. He did a good job of fooling him until they sat down to dinner and he caught Kurt watching him closely with a concerned furrow to his brow. He should have known he wouldn't be able to hide how he was feeling from Kurt; for some reason Kurt had always been able to read him better than even Wes or his parents.

"I feel useless," he declared, not even waiting for Kurt to say anything. "I sit around here all day while you and Rachel are off at work. I have nothing to do, no purpose in the world anymore." He set his knife and fork down, breathing heavily from the flood of emotion.

Kurt set his cutlery down as well. "Blaine..." His hand twitched where it rested on the table, as though he were itching to reach across and take Blaine's hand. "You can't think like that." He shifted in his chair, looking pleadingly at Blaine as the other man tried to look away. "There's maybe not all that much you can do now, but soon you'll be working towards getting your diploma and after that you'll be in college." When Blaine said nothing in response, just continued to stare stonily ahead, Kurt added, "What brought this on?"

Sighing heavily, Blaine let his head fall back until he was looking up at the ceiling. "There is a job being advertised at the moment for someone to teach piano at a music store not far from here." He raised a hand to run it through his hair in distress, letting it fall back into his lap when his fingertips brushed his gelled locks. "It sounds so perfect for me - if only it were possible for me to get it."

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt murmured gently. He hesitated, licking his lips quickly, before saying in the same soft tones, "You know you don't have to get a job. You don't need to pay me rent or anything; you work enough for that."

Blaine looked back at Kurt and shook his head. "It's not about the money, not really. It's having something to do, something other than waiting for the days to pass until I can start college. I'm sitting here wishing time away and I can't stand living like this much longer. I want to contribute to the world, do something I enjoy, have a life."

"Did the advert ask for someone qualified?"

"No," Blaine replied. He squinted a little as he tried to remember exactly what the advertisement had said. "It asked for someone experienced on the piano, good with children, patient, and with a good sense of fun," he recalled.

"Then why shouldn't you be able to get it? You're certainly proficient enough on the piano - I've heard you play."

Blaine poked at the handle of his fork. "They might not explicitly ask for a qualification, but they'll want one."

"But if you tick all the other boxes they might not care," Kurt countered. He stretched his hand across the table and placed it on top of Blaine's, enfolding his boyfriend's hand in his own. "What's the harm in trying?"

Blaine took in Kurt's encouraging smile and loving, hopeful gaze, and softened. Kurt was right: he wouldn't lose anything by applying for the job and seeing what they said; after all, they might surprise him and give him the job.

"Ok," he said, returning the pressure of Kurt's hand. "I'll go around to the store tomorrow and apply."

Kurt beamed at him. "You'd make a fantastic piano teacher; they'd be silly to turn you down."

Blaine knew that while Kurt was being truthful, he was only saying that in a natural, encouraging response to Blaine's decision, but it made him feel better and more confident all the same.

Once again, Kurt spent a workday eager for it to end. Back before he'd met Blaine he'd never counted down the hours at work, wishing for the end of the day to arrive so he could go home. He used to love being at his work, sometimes staying later to finish up working on a design, and while he still enjoyed it, he was less enthusiastic about spending his days there; he'd much rather be at home with Blaine. It was a nice change: looking forward to going home instead of dreading the return to an empty apartment and a lonely dinner.

Today, however, he wasn't just looking forward to seeing Blaine and spending the evening with him; he was desperate to know if Blaine had gotten the job at the music store. He'd seen how much Blaine had wanted it, how much he wanted something in his life beyond being his boyfriend, and he hoped his wishes hadn't been shot down.

He entered the apartment that evening with the air of a teenager sneaking into the house hours after curfew: heart beating fast and expecting bad news around every corner.

It didn't take him long to find Blaine. His boyfriend was seated at the old upright piano Rachel used for practicing her singing and Kurt occasionally messed around on when the mood struck him. Blaine wasn't playing, but his hands were resting on the keys as if he had been playing but had stopped when Kurt had arrived. He was staring silently down at the keys, not looking around at the sound of Kurt's approaching footsteps. Kurt's heart sunk - that wasn't a good sign.

With disappointment and sympathy filling him, Kurt sat down next to Blaine on the piano bench and waited for him to speak. When he didn't, Kurt placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it with his thumb. His touch seemed to jolt Blaine into speech.

"I got the job," he whispered numbly.

"I'm sorry-" Kurt began, and then his brain caught up with his mouth and he realised what Blaine had said. "Wait, what?"

Blaine turned to look at him, his hands sliding off the piano keys to rest in his lap. "I got the job," he repeated. "I start tomorrow." He looked like he couldn't believe it.

"Blaine..." A delighted smile spread slowly across Kurt's face. "That's- That's wonderful!" He ducked down and kissed a now-smiling Blaine's cheek. "I told you they'd be stupid not to hire you. You'll be a fantastic piano teacher." He threw his arms around Blaine and pulled him into a hug, his heart squeezing fondly at the sound of Blaine's delighted laugh.

"I can't tell you how happy I am I got this job," Blaine murmured into Kurt's ear. "Working in music - I never would have been able to do that in my own time. It was law or nothing."

Kurt rubbed his back once more before pulling back. "We have to celebrate!" he said excitedly. He jumped to his feet and hurried through to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge's contents, searching for the bottle he'd watched Rachel place into it several months ago. "Champagne!" he announced triumphantly, holding the bottle up to show Blaine.

Pulling the cover down over the piano keys, Blaine stood up. "We don't have to drink champagne. It's only a part-time job; it's not that big of a deal."

"It's not just a job, Blaine," Kurt argued, setting the bottle down on the counter and taking two glasses out of the cupboard. "It's laying the foundation to you living here permanently. It's your first step towards the career in music you always dreamed of. Of course we should celebrate it."

He carefully popped the cork of the champagne and poured some into the glasses as Blaine joined him in the kitchen. With a smile Kurt reached for his glass and held it aloft. "To living your dreams," he toasted.

"To living your dreams," Blaine echoed, raising his own glass and clinking it against Kurt's.

Kurt watched Blaine over the rim of his glass as he sipped at his champagne, the golden bubbles bursting and fizzing on his tongue. He didn't think he'd ever been this happy for someone achieving something they desperately wanted, not even when Rachel got her NYADA acceptance letter. Rachel getting into NYADA had always been pretty much a guarantee, there had never been much doubt she would get into the prestigious school, but there had been so much uncertainty surrounding the possibility of Blaine living here and having the life he'd always wanted, but now it was beginning to look like it would all be possible.

They were almost finished their second glass when Rachel arrived home, dressed in black leggings and an oversized t-shirt under her coat and scarf, her hair pulled up in a messy ponytail.

"I can't stay long," she said quickly when she spotted them sitting on the couch. "I'm just grabbing a couple of things and then I need to get back to the theatre." Her gaze landed on the half-empty champagne bottle sitting on the coffee table. "Is that my final show champagne?" She marched over to the coffee table and snatched the bottle up, examining the label closely.

"I'll buy you another bottle," Kurt promised quickly, sensing an explosion of Rachel Berry proportions.

Rachel glared at him. "You knew why I was saving this bottle - why did you have to drink it? Couldn't you have bought another?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Your production doesn't even have a date set for its final show; it may be years away. I'll buy you another bottle," he promised again. "And I couldn't buy another because I didn't know we would have something to celebrate tonight."

Setting the bottle back down, Rachel looked between Kurt and Blaine, a hint of curiosity behind her annoyance. "Oh? And what are we celebrating?"

Kurt shared a brief look with Blaine; he nodded. "Blaine got a job today," Kurt announced with a proud smile. "He's now a piano teacher."

Rachel frowned at Blaine. "You've got a job? But I thought you were only going to be here for a year?"

Kurt tried not to let his smile fall or to look over at Blaine. They hadn't discussed this, but with Blaine now staying here permanently they would have to tell Rachel the truth sometime soon.

"Since I've decided to spend my entire year off here I thought I'd do something part time while Kurt is at work so I'm not spending a year doing very little," Blaine lied smoothly. Kurt was reminded of how Blaine had been lying every day for years before he had travelled to this time. "Music is one of my greatest passions. When I saw the job advert it was too good an opportunity to pass up."

"Oh," Rachel said again, this time in a surprised tone. "Well, congratulations. I guess you do deserve the champagne," she admitted grudgingly.

Catching sight of the time on the kitchen clock, she snatched up her purse from where she'd dropped it on the coffee table and dashed away towards her room with a muttered, "Shit." She was back less than a minute later, stuffing something into her purse. "I'll see you guys later. Enjoy my champagne!"

The door slammed behind her. Kurt turned his head to look at Blaine. He could tell by Blaine's expression he was thinking the same thing he was.

"We have to tell her soon," Kurt said quietly.

Blaine nodded. "I know." He glanced down at where their hands were still entwined between them. "She's going to freak out, isn't she?" he said, looking up at Kurt through his long eyelashes.

"Probably," Kurt agreed. "But she won't tell anyone if we tell her not to. Her loyalty and ability to keep secrets has improved a lot since high school."

Blaine took another sip of his drink before lowering his head to rest in Kurt's shoulder. "I feel rather bad about drinking the champagne she was saving."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Kurt told him. "Like I said, she was saving it for something that is months away, and I will buy her a replacement bottle."

"I know you will. I still can't help but feel bad; she seemed really annoyed."

"And even though she's being ridiculous and it was my idea to drink it you still feel guilty because you are unbelievably polite and have more empathy than anyone I've ever met," Kurt said fondly. He kissed Blaine's head.

"My parents and school put a big emphasis on manners," Blaine replied.

Kurt swirled his champagne around his glass thoughtfully. "Everyone was more polite and dignified in the twenties - or it seems that way in books and movies."

Blaine made a small noise in his throat. "Some people were more formal and well-mannered, it's true, but there were those that were not." He shifted against Kurt, nuzzling a little closer. "Values and attitudes change. And while it might seem romantic looking back on how it was in the twenties, it certainly didn't feel that way living in that time." Kurt felt him smile against his shoulder. "And I can't see you managing to stick to the strict conformities on dress and behaviour."

"Blaine Anderson, are you saying I can't be classy?" Kurt asked in mock horror. He shoved playfully at his boyfriend making him lift his head and send him his favourite smile.

"Maybe," he said cheekily.

"I can be perfectly classy," Kurt sniffed. He lifted his glass of champagne and sipped from it daintily. When he lowered his glass, Blaine lunged forward and kissed him fiercely, licking at the seam of his lips until Kurt parted them and allowed him to lick at his tongue. When he eventually pulled back Kurt was gasping.

"That wasn't very gentlemanly of you," Kurt panted.

Blaine grinned wickedly. He straightened his bowtie and smoothed a hand over his neatly gelled hair, looking at Kurt with innocent eyes.

"Dammit," Kurt muttered, grabbing a fistful of Blaine's shirt and crashing their lips together again.

They were still kissing when Rachel returned home from her show, exchanging lazy, slow kisses as they cuddled together on the couch, some long-forgotten TV show playing in the background.

"Can't you guys save that for the bedroom?" Rachel complained, dumping her keys on the table by the front door.

Kurt smiled and rubbed his nose against Blaine's before tilting his head for another kiss, his entire body rejoicing at the feel of Blaine's soft lips against his own and the taste of him filling his mouth.

He heard Rachel sniff loudly. "You two are disgustingly cute."

Blaine pulled back, smiling at Kurt's small noise of protest. "Sorry," he said, looking up at Rachel. "We didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything."

"You didn't-" Rachel began to protest, but Blaine smiled sincerely at her and she fell silent.

Blaine nudged Kurt in the ribs, making him sit up. Kurt pouted at him. They didn't have to stop cuddling because Rachel was there.

Blaine squeezed his hand. "I'll be back in a minute - bathroom," he explained, standing up and walking out the room. Kurt watched him go, admiring the stretch of his shirt over his strong shoulders and back, his small waist, and the curve of his ass in the fitted pants he was wearing.

He didn't notice Rachel taking Blaine's vacated spot, but when he looked round once Blaine had disappeared from view she was there.

"Looks like things with Blaine are going well," she commented.

Kurt frowned, his guard immediately going up. Rachel's words were light and conversational, but he could sense there was more to it, that she had been waiting for a moment like this when they were alone. There was something she wanted to talk to him about Blaine or, more likely, something she wanted to ask him about Blaine. He could see the calculating questions coming almost as though they were stamped on her forehead.

"Yes," Kurt agreed, speaking slowly as he tried to figure out where Rachel was going with her comment. "We really care about each other."

Rachel nodded. "That's good," she said distractedly. "I couldn't help but notice, though, that over the last week or so you've been looking a little...worried whenever Blaine wasn't around to see it."

Kurt's frown deepened, a flicker of annoyance sparking up inside him. "Didn't you hear me? I just said-"

"I should have been around more to keep an eye on things," Rachel interrupted, plainly not listening to a word he was saying. "I told myself I would do that. I don't want your relationship with Blaine to go the same way as your one with Liam did. I don't want to see you hurt like that again."

"Rachel!" Kurt said loudly. He placed his hands on her shoulders and she finally focused her gaze on him. "It's not what you think - everything is perfectly fine between Blaine and I - more than fine, actually. I haven't been this happy in a long time."

Rachel nibbled on her bottom lip. "I just thought-"

"You were worried for me, I know," Kurt said quietly. "And I appreciate your concern, but it wasn't anything to do with Blaine that I was worrying about," he assured her.

"It wasn't?"

"It wasn't," Kurt said firmly, ignoring the small twinge of guilt her felt. Because it had been Blaine he had been worrying about. He understood what Rachel was talking about now: it was those moments when Blaine hadn't been in the same room when he'd been fretting over whether or not it was best for Blaine to stay in this time rather than return to his own. The worries had been circling to the forefront of his mind whenever Blaine wasn't around to ask him what it was that was bothering him. He should have expected Rachel to notice.

"What's been bothering you, then?" Rachel asked curiously. Most of the concern had cleared from her expression.

Kurt waved a hand airily. "Just work stuff," he said offhandedly. "We're under a lot of pressure to make this next collection as successful as the last."

This wasn't a lie, he was under a fair amount of pressure at work for this very reason, but he wasn't having any trouble handling it. A year of working for the label had him used to the demands and stress of the job.

He heard footsteps behind him and glanced over his shoulder, smiling automatically when he saw Blaine approaching them.

"I never really realised how stressful working in fashion could be before you started working in it," Rachel commented as Blaine sat down on Kurt's other side. "I mean, I've seen 'The Devil Wears Prada', but-"

Kurt's phone began to ring loudly, cutting her off. She fell silent as Kurt pulled his phone from his pocket and looked down at the screen. His thumb hovered over the button to accept the call.

He wanted - needed - to take this call in private, out of earshot of Rachel, but with her shuffling through papers on the coffee table in an effort to discreetly avoid listening in to his phone call, he couldn't see a way of excusing himself without triggering her suspicions.

The phone rang again and Rachel shot him a brief look, no doubt wondering why he wasn't answering the call.

Hoping he could avoid saying anything that would make Rachel curious, Kurt answered the call.

"Hi, Kayleigh."