"It was right about here; I remember that crack in the brick."

Blaine stopped by the stretch of wall and pointed to a deep, weathered crack in one of the red bricks. Kurt came to a stop next to him and began surveying the surrounding area with shrewd eyes. He and Kurt were out looking at the coffee shop outside of which Blaine had travelled into the future. It was the first step in their plan to try and find the answers to all of Blaine's questions. How had he gotten here? Why was he here? How could he return home? Kurt was sure the location of Blaine's time travel would hold some clues and Blaine had a nagging suspicion that the coffee shop behind him which had hardly changed in the last ninety-one years was somehow significant.

As if hearing his thoughts, Kurt asked, "Is there anything around here that's still the same or nearly the same as it was in your time?"

"The coffee shop, actually," Blaine replied, glancing over his shoulder at it as he spoke. "It's almost identical to how it was back then. It had only been open for a week or so."

Kurt looked away from the restaurant down the road he'd been frowning at and rolled his eyes at himself. "Of course - it opened in nineteen-twenty-three." He gave his head a small shake. "Can't believe I forgot that." He squinted at the café's exterior, shielding his eyes against the afternoon sun. "Maybe someone inside the coffee shop sent you to the future? Had you been to it before?"

Blaine nodded. "Twice: the day after it opened, and three days before I travelled."

Kurt hadn't looked away from the café and Blaine followed his gaze, frowning at the closest of the large windows on either side of the door through which he could see customers seated at tables and others getting takeaway coffee at the counter.

"Did you notice anything out of the ordinary either of those times you visited?" Kurt asked.

Blaine's forehead scrunched slightly as he thought back over his visits to the small café carefully. "No," he replied after a pause. "It was just a typical café."

"Was there anyone inside that stood out to you? Anyone who was there both times you visited?" Kurt pressed, nibbling absently on his bottom lip as he watched two women leave the café.

Blaine shook his head again. "Other than the owner, there was nobody that I noticed. And no one stood out to me; there was nothing unusual at all." He only wished it were that easy, that he suddenly remembered a strange figure in a hooded cloak watching him from the shadows both times he'd entered the café, someone who plotted to send him into the future. But life and its problems were rarely that simple.

Kurt hummed in response and the pair of them stared at the coffee shop's entrance for a long moment, watching the steady trickle of customers coming and going who were unaware of the mystery surrounding the small café.

"We could talk to the owner," Blaine suggested, breaking the contemplative silence. "Since it has been kept in the family, they might know of something that could help." He nodded at the pronouncement displayed proudly below the café's name, declaring the café's long-time family ownership.

Kurt glanced sideways at him, lifting his shoulders in a tiny shrug. "Seems silly not to. And any stories involving time travelling would have been passed down the generations as well."

Blaine hung back as they entered the coffee shop. That insistent voice telling him this café was significant was still present in his head and he was almost certain the owner would tell them something of importance. The more he thought about going home the more reluctant he became towards returning. A lot of people would love to be in his position: seeing the future, discovering how the world worked now and all the changes that had occurred throughout the years. He should want to stay a little longer, learn as much as he could, and explore a bit before returning. But that wasn't what was driving his reluctance to leave; it was that he had nothing really worth returning home for.

The café was emptying of the lunchtime crowds and Blaine and Kurt were able to walk straight up to the counter without queuing. Lost in his own worries, Blaine didn't hear Kurt asking the barista if the owner was available; but he must have done so for when Blaine finally focused on the present Kurt was introducing them to a dark-haired man in his early forties.

"-has been in your family since it opened, am I correct?" Kurt asked.

The owner nodded, his eyes flicking between Kurt and Blaine curiously.

"Since it was opened in the twenties," he confirmed, a hint of pride creeping into his voice.

Kurt's smile was strained. "This might seem like an odd thing to ask, but have there been any..." Kurt hesitated for a second, searching for the best word to use. "...unusual events that have taken place here since it opened?" The owner's puzzled and calculating frown lifted into a look of surprise. "That you know of," Kurt added.

Blaine shifted anxiously on the spot. He was acutely aware he was letting Kurt do all the talking for him, but he didn't think he was capable of doing what Kurt was: of asking the right questions, of keeping a level and calm voice. He was also pretty certain anxiety and reluctance had strangled his vocal chords.

The owner squinted contemplatively, drumming the fingers of his left hand on the counter as he thought. "We've had some pretty big-name celebrities come in over the years. Overheard some interesting conversations they've had, but I wouldn't call that unusual." He shook his head. "There's nothing that I can think of."

Blaine let out a breath he didn't realise he had been holding and felt Kurt deflate next to him. He had been so sure the coffee shop had something to do with it, and now the owner had proved him wrong. They were back to square one. He felt both disheartened and guiltily relieved about it.

"Nothing?" Kurt pressed, sounding slightly desperate. "Nothing at all?"

The owner shook his head again, his frown returning and suspicion appearing in his eyes. "Nothing," he reiterated. "Why are you asking?"

Blaine's stomach clenched with panic and he fought with the urge to look at Kurt with a stricken expression. They hadn't prepared for this, had no cover story in place for why they would be asking such questions. Before Blaine's panic could escalate any further and appear clearly on his face, Kurt responded.

"We're doing some research on the local area for an assignment for college," he lied smoothly. "We wanted to make ours stand-out by covering an unusual event that few people may have heard of."

All suspicion gone, the owner straightened up from where he'd been leaning against the counter, now looking apologetic. "Sorry, boys, but nothing really exciting has ever happened here. It's just a coffee shop." He smiled and excused himself, moving over to further down the counter to serve a woman examining the display of cakes and cookies.

Kurt turned to Blaine. "Well, that's that," he sighed, looking put-out. "I was expecting to get something to go on from him."

"Me, too," Blaine agreed.

They left the café, Kurt a little dejected with a frown on his face, and Blaine feeling both lightened and more weighed down than before. They stopped by the crack in the wall again. Kurt sighed and rubbed at his eye when he saw it.

"Back to the drawing board, I guess." He glanced briefly over at the café again. "And that was my best idea, as well." He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug and gave Blaine a small smile. "Oh well, I guess we're going to have to resort to seeing what Google can tell us."

Blaine blinked, puzzled. "Google?" he repeated slowly, never having heard the word before.

Kurt's smile widened. He reached for Blaine's hand, folding his fingers around Blaine's and tugging him along after him as he set off down the street. "It's time you learned about the wonders of the internet."

Kurt's hand remained in his for almost the entire journey home: skin as soft as he remembered, palm warm against his own, the tips of his fingers a little cooler where they rested on the back of his hand. It wasn't until they'd passed the halfway point of their journey that Blaine felt the blush finally fade from his cheeks and the jittery, electric feeling in his veins dampen down so his pulse was a steady thrumming instead of a wild gallop.

Unable to help himself, he snuck several glances at Kurt and was pleased to see a soft pink tinging the taller man's cheeks and a small smile quirking up the corners of his mouth.

But Blaine forgot all about the hand-holding and Kurt's pleased smile when he saw what the internet was. The feel of Kurt's hand entwined with his own was pushed to the back of his mind when Kurt slid a slim device he called a computer onto the table in front of them and explained what both it and the internet were, in the simplest way he could.

"Incredible," Blaine murmured for what had to be the fourth or fifth time as he watched Kurt click on yet another article on time travel and frown at what appeared on the screen. "I can't believe all this information is stored on this little thing - what did you say it was called again?" Blaine prodded at the corner of the mind-blowing silver rectangle in front of him.

Kurt shot him an amused look. "It's a computer," he reminded him, gently pushing Blaine's hand away as Blaine ran his fingers curiously along the side of the computer's base. "And that's not quite how it works. All this information isn't stored on the computer, it's- it's-" Kurt's gaze searched the ceiling as if the explanation for how it all worked was written up there. "It's hard to explain, but people all over the world have access to this," he waved a hand to indicate the information displayed on the computer, "not just me." He surveyed Blaine thoughtfully for a few seconds. "It's a bit like a radio: everyone can see all of this if they tune into the right frequency."

Understanding shot through Blaine and he blinked at the computer. "Oh, I see." He watched with wide eyes as Kurt expertly navigated his way through more of the bountiful, fascinating internet. "So, you can just look up anything on this and it will tell you everything you need to know? Why do people still go to school if everything you could possibly want to learn and more is all here?"

Kurt moved his hand away from the computer and stopped searching through all the seemingly endless information. "The internet doesn't have the answer to everything; if it did we would have found how you can get home ages ago. And we can't rely on the internet for everything, someone has to make all this information available on it, so if everyone relied on the internet for everything we would reach a futile cycle and nobody would learn anything anymore." He smiled at Blaine's awestruck expression as he watched him return to the computer and switch back to what they'd been looking at previously.

Kurt pushed the computer a little closer to Blaine. "Do you want a turn?" he offered.

Giddy excitement shot through Blaine and he nodded eagerly, sitting forward in his chair and peering intently at the computer, wanting to start but not having a clue where to begin.

"This is what you use to navigate through the internet," Kurt explained, nudging the small black object he had been resting his hand on towards Blaine. He took Blaine's right hand in his own, causing Blaine's skin to tingle softly with hypersensitivity, and placed it on top of the black object. "It's called a mouse."

"A mouse?" Blaine repeated in bewilderment. He squinted down at the object underneath his hand. "It looks nothing like a mouse."

Kurt shrugged. "Yeah, I don't know where the name came from, but..." He placed his hand on top of Blaine's where it rested on the mouse - Blaine tried not to jump in his seat at the contact. "If you move your hand around you move that little arrow on the screen," he pointed, "and you can click on something - like this," he pressed Blaine's index finger down, "and a new page will load up."

With the warmth of Kurt's hand seeping through the back of his own, and Kurt's gentle breath tickling his cheek, Blaine had a shot at exploring the internet. He could feel the amazement and fascination in his expression as Kurt helped him guide the tiny arrow around the page and select new things, making new information and pictures pop up in front of his eyes. To his great disappointment, when he started to get the hang of how to work the mouse, Kurt removed his hand, leaving the back of Blaine's hands and fingers feeling cold and bare.

After a minute or two he felt Kurt's eyes on him and he looked over at the other man, as though his gaze had a magnetic pull on him. Their eyes met and their gazes held for a long moment, something passing between them, something that made Blaine's heart leap up towards his throat and his fingers to tremble where they rested against the smooth curve of the mouse. He didn't know how long passed by until Kurt looked away - seconds, minutes, hours, maybe - but when he did, Blaine could feel a hot blush burning up his neck and face.

Kurt cleared his throat, his own cheeks stained a deep pink that stood out against the rest of his pale skin. "Rachel will be home soon," he announced, his voice slightly shaky. "Do you want to help me cook dinner?"

Dinner with Rachel was horribly nerve-wracking. She took the opportunity of spending more than a few minutes with Blaine to learn everything she could about him. To Blaine it felt like an interrogation and his hands shook, making it difficult to cut his chicken as Rachel fired question after question at him.

It started off easy and innocent enough, Rachel asking both him and Kurt how their day had been and what they'd been up to. Kurt twisted the truth smoothly, telling her they'd gone for coffee and a walk round the neighbourhood before coming back to make dinner. But then Rachel's questions gradually became more worrisome. Blaine broke out in a nervous sweat and tried to think quickly, inventing believable answers to her questions about the friend he'd travelled to the city to visit, his family, and life in Connecticut. He tried to tell himself that she was simply being friendly and polite, but in his nervous state it seemed like she was trying to catch him out and he tried his best not to slip up.

Kurt told her a few times to leave Blaine in peace to have his dinner, but she ignored him. It was as if she knew something already and was determined to prove a point. Her eyes kept swivelling between Kurt and Blaine, a small frown appearing on her face every now and then. She narrowed her eyes when she caught Blaine shooting Kurt a brief, helpless look as he made up some stuff about living in Connecticut. The thought of what could be running through Rachel's head at that moment had Blaine worried to the point of feeling sick.

When Kurt began clearing away their dirty plates once they'd finished eating, Blaine jumped to his feet and offered to clear the table, wanting to escape Rachel's questions and scrutinising stares. Kurt protested, but Rachel, to Blaine's surprise, interrupted him.

"If Blaine wants to help out, then let him," she told Kurt, sitting back in her chair. "After all, he is living here, he's not just a guest over for dinner."

Kurt frowned. "Rachel-" he began.

"It's fine," Blaine told him, smiling reassuringly to emphasise his point. "I do want to help out. I feel bad staying here and not doing anything to pay you back for your generosity."

"You don't have to-"

"He's only clearing the table, Kurt," Rachel pointed out sharply.

Giving in, Kurt allowed Blaine to take his plate. "Fine."

Stacking the plates, Blaine carried them through to the kitchen and sat them by the sink. Bracing his hands on the countertop, he let out a shaky breath.

He'd have to straighten out his full cover story and stick to it, and maybe use the internet to do some research on Connecticut so if Rachel or anyone else asked more questions he wouldn't have to stutter his way through a response. Otherwise sooner or later someone would realise he wasn't telling the truth and demand to know what was really going on. That was the last thing he wanted.

Reaching to turn on the hot water, he filled the sink, and then washed the dishes before placing them back in the cupboard once they were dry. The mundane task helped calm his frayed nerves and when the last plate was put away he felt composed enough to return to the table with a smile on his face.

"-is a bit strange, maybe he's one of those undercover agents or a drug dealer or something?"

Rachel's voice had Blaine freezing in the entrance to the kitchen. She was clearly talking about him and he had been right, she was suspicious about his behaviour. He hated to eavesdrop and considered it extremely rude, but knowing that Rachel and Kurt were discussing him made it impossible to resist listening in.

"He is not a drug dealer!" Kurt hissed in response, his voice lower than Rachel's, only just discernible from where Blaine was standing. "He's nothing like that, at all. You've got it all wrong."

Rachel made a derisive noise. "Oh, come on, Kurt, you were saying yourself only a week ago you thought there was something odd about him, so don't act like I'm making stuff up to cause trouble."

A sharp spike of hurt stabbed through Blaine and he stumbled back a step, throwing out a hand to brace against the wall as all the air rushed from his lungs leaving him with a breathless and empty feeling while he stared wide-eyed in the direction of Rachel's voice. Kurt thought he was abnormal and weird, just as he'd feared. He was from decades in the past, so he didn't blame Kurt for feeling this way, but he had hoped he was different, that he didn't judge him on his differences borne from being almost from another century. He had thought Kurt didn't see him as some sort of alien human being, but he was clearly wrong.

He missed Kurt's response to Rachel, his uneven breathing, faintly ringing ears, and the painful throbbing of his heart making it impossible to hear anything other than the hum of his voice. Swallowing hard, he stepped forward until he was within hearing range of Kurt and Rachel again, dreading to hear what else they thought about him but determined to know all the same.

"Blaine is a really nice guy," Kurt was saying, a hint of his annoyance still present in his tone. "And I really like him, so I would appreciate it if you were more civil towards him like I am around your obnoxious Broadway friends."

"I didn't mean to sound so distrustful, I'm sorry," Rachel apologised, her voice slightly pleading as she willed Kurt to understand. "It's not that I don't like Blaine - I do like him - it's just..."

"It's just what?" Kurt asked shortly.

Blaine shuffled a little closer as the silence drew out for several long seconds, not wanting to miss Rachel's response. He held his breath as he strained his ears for her reply, wishing his heart wasn't pounding so loudly in his ears so he could hear better.

"Just... I don't know..." Rachel trailed off helplessly. "I don't want to see you get hurt again."

There was another pause, but this one was different; the tension was palpable even from where Blaine stood.

"What has Blaine got to do with Liam?" Kurt asked, his voice carefully controlled.

Blaine frowned - who was Liam?

"I- Maybe nothing," Rachel replied cautiously. "But, Kurt-"

"No, Rachel," Kurt warned her firmly. There was a soft thud, like someone setting a glass down on the table and Blaine retreated to the kitchen, his mind buzzing with what he's just heard. It didn't sound as though Rachel knew the truth about him or that she had picked up he had been lying earlier, but she was wary of him, and it appeared to have something to do with someone named Liam.

Hitching a well-practiced smile on his face, Blaine headed back through to the dining area where Kurt and Rachel were still seated at the table; Kurt frowning at the glass of water in front of him and Rachel staring across the living area with unfocused eyes. They both came out of their thoughts when Blaine approached the table, smiling at him pleasantly and thanking him for clearing the table. Rachel excused herself shortly afterwards, saying she had a script to read through, and left the table leaving Kurt, Blaine, and a slight note of awkwardness in the air.

Kurt smiled apologetically. "Sorry about Rachel. She's been like that for as long as I've known her: a bit nosey and never able to tell when people are uncomfortable or when to stop talking." At Blaine's nod of understanding, he added, "You've survived the interrogation, though; she won't bombard you with questions like that again."

And just like that the awkwardness was gone. Blaine had decided to file away everything he'd overheard earlier to think about sometime he was less tired and Kurt seemed to have shaken off his annoyance with Rachel. They moved through to the living area, Kurt sketching in the large pad of paper he kept on the coffee table, while Blaine looked through an encyclopaedia, familiarising himself with the modern world and marvelling at how much mankind had advanced in ninety-one years.

Though neither of them spoke, Blaine still felt as though he was sharing his evening with Kurt. The soft sounds of Kurt's pencil moving across paper and the occasional rustle of fabric as Kurt shifted in his seat was background music as Blaine read. He felt extremely content curled up in the armchair with his legs tucked up beside him and the large, hardback book balanced on the armrest. The hours flew by, his eyelids gradually becoming heavier as tiredness settled in.

Stifling a yawn, he looked up from his book and stretched, the pull of his muscles feeling good after hours sitting bent over a book. He looked over at Kurt and was surprised to find him showing no signs of stopping his sketching for the day. His face was set with concentration as his hand moved over the page, expertly wielding a pencil and scratching out all the details of the design he held in his mind. Some of his hair had escaped its sculpted coif and had fallen over his forehead, but lost in his drawings, Kurt hadn't noticed.

Blaine took the opportunity to study the other man, admiring the way Kurt still managed to look stylish in a pair of loose-fitting pants and a t-shirt. The soft light from a nearby lamp threw shadows across his face, accentuating the slight upturn of his nose and the line of his jaw. Blaine found his gaze being drawn to the way the muscles in his hand moved as he drew and he felt a sudden urge to smooth his hand over those muscles, a craving to feel those hands on his skin. He blinked and looked away, pushing aside the images threatening to cloud his mind. Kurt was his friend, a friend who was letting him stay in his home and helping him to return to his own time, he shouldn't be thinking that way about him.

Kurt was his friend, yet he had eavesdropped on one of his private conversations.

A wave of guilt flooded Blaine at the thought and he looked back up at Kurt, this time not admiring him but watching him apprehensively as he debated whether or not to admit to him what he'd done. He bit his lip - honesty was important to him and he hated keeping secrets from his parents and friends back home, he didn't want to do the same here and hide things like this from Kurt.

He cleared his throat quietly. "Um, Kurt?"

Kurt hummed to show he was listening and looked up from his sketch pad, his hold on his pencil loosening.

Blaine rubbed at his forearm. "I- Earlier when I cleared away after dinner I was coming back to the table when I heard-" He hesitated for a second. "I heard you and Rachel talking."

Kurt said nothing at first and Blaine immediately began to panic, anticipating Kurt being angry at him for eavesdropping on private conversations in his home, Kurt never trusting him again, or even demanding he pack his bags and go back to stay in the hotel. Just as he was about to start babbling apologies, Kurt shook his head apologetically, getting to his feet and setting his sketch pad and pencil down on the coffee table.

"I wish you hadn't heard that," he groaned, dropping down onto the couch next to Blaine and rubbing at a spot above his left eyebrow. "I'm sorry."

Confusion slowly replacing his panic, Blaine blinked. "For what? I was the one who so rudely listened in on your private conversation."

Kurt nodded absently, his expression both troubled and mildly frustrated. "True, but you now know what I thought of you when we first met. You know I thought you were strange, yet I was friendly and even flirty to your face."

Blaine felt a pleasant jumping sensation somewhere in his belly at Kurt's mention of being flirty. Ignoring the rapid pounding of his heart, he slid forwards until he was sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning towards Kurt as he willed him to understand that he didn't care about Kurt's original impression of him, all that mattered was how he felt now. He'd gotten over his initial hurt to discovering how Kurt felt, and after taking some time to think about it, had realised why Kurt had felt that way; he would have thought the same had their situations been reversed.

"Kurt, it doesn't matter how you felt back them. To be honest, I would have been more surprised if you didn't think I was strange. I had just been transported from another era and had no idea how to dress or behave or how anything worked - I still don't." He smiled at Kurt. "What matters is despite thinking that way you didn't keep well away from me. You stayed around to learn my story and get to know me." Kurt's gaze never wavered from Blaine's and he had to swallow thickly. Kurt's expression was unreadable but his eyes held something which made Blaine's pulse thrum in his ears. "You came up to me in the coffee shop," he finished, his voice coming out slightly strangled as his words squeezed out through the tightening of his throat.

"I did," Kurt whispered. "I saw something in you when you stopped me on the street, I couldn't get you out of my head for the rest of the day."

The tension in the room was so heavy Blaine imagined he could feel it pressing down on him. It made his movements slow, like he was submerged in some viscous fluid. His thoughts, however, flicked through his head at top speed, blurring together so he couldn't make sense of them and struggled to string a coherent thought together. All he could do was stare as Kurt shifted closer until he could feel the heat radiating from Kurt's body and his scent filled his nostrils - herbs from the cooking earlier, some intoxicating mixture of sweetness and spice that must be his cologne, and below all of that, something delicious and masculine he couldn't even begin to describe: something that made him crave closeness.

He sucked in a tiny breath, nowhere near enough oxygen to stop his mind from spinning or to calm his racing heart, but he couldn't breathe, not with Kurt so close he could clearly see all the faint freckles on his nose and cheeks. Kurt's eyes were still locked on his until the space between them closed further and Blaine's eyes fluttered closed of their own accord. He felt a hand rest on his knee, sending a tingling spark through his leg, and Kurt's breath ghosted over his parted lips. A barest brush of lips against his, he leant a little further forward, his heart leaping-

A phone rang shrilly, and Kurt and Blaine both jumped back from each other, Kurt snatching his hand back as though he'd been electrocuted. Heart thumping frantically in his chest, Blaine looked around wildly for the source of the noise. A distant shout of "I'll get it!" came from the direction of Rachel's room and the ringing cut off soon afterwards. Blaine looked back to Kurt to find the other man breathing heavily and staring at him with wide eyes.

"We should- We should probably go to bed," Kurt stammered, his voice cracking on some of the words.

Unable to speak, Blaine simply nodded. His legs shook under him as he got to his feet and he tried not to let this unsteadiness show as he followed Kurt through to their bedrooms.

Kurt paused outside his bedroom door and he shot Blaine a nervous glance, his gaze skittering away before Blaine could meet his eyes.

"Goodnight," he said softly, already nudging his door open with his hip.

Blaine cleared his throat. "Goodnight, Kurt."

Kurt smiled at him briefly before disappearing into his bedroom. With disappointment crashing inside him and the phantom feeling of Kurt's breath and feather-light touch of mouth on his lips, Blaine headed for bed.

Kurt tried to shake-off their near-kiss, but it proved to be much harder to do than he thought. The memory of Blaine's face inches from his own, their breaths intermingling in the slim space between them, kept creeping into his mind and taking root there until he was able to force it aside and think of something else. He kept imagining there was something different about his mouth, that he could taste Blaine on his lips, even though he wasn't entirely sure their lips had actually touched. The more the night wore on and the more he replayed and overanalysed the moment, the more he questioned and doubted what had happened and by morning he wasn't sure how close they came to kissing.

With the intent of both distracting himself and showing Blaine more of the modern world, he decided to spend the day showing Blaine around the city. Though he knew Blaine was from New York and not Connecticut like he had originally told him, the city had changed so much in the last ninety-one years he felt it would be a good idea to let him see this. And what better way was there for Blaine to see and learn about the world as it was today than to get out in it?

It was an unseasonably warm autumn's day and the city was bathed in pleasant warm sunshine. Blaine looked unfairly attractive in his t-shirt and maroon cardigan, the outfit somehow making him look at home in the twenty-first century yet still retaining hints of the charm of his own era - or maybe it was only Kurt who saw this. Kurt kept glancing over at Blaine with the intention of seeing his reaction to everything around them, but his gaze kept catching on some small detail - the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck, the sweep of his eyelashes against his cheek when he looked down, the tiny freckles sprinkled on his nose - and he would stare, entranced, until he reminded himself again that Blaine needed a friend right now, nothing more.

'And besides,' he added to himself after wrenching his eyes away from the flex of Blaine's arm muscles, 'Blaine will be leaving as soon as you discover how he can get home and you'll be separated by time once more.'

Gloom settled over him in a dark cloud at this thought and he struggled to hitch a smile on his face when he turned to Blaine.

He indicated the road leading down to the right with a nod of his head. "Let's go this way; I want to show you my favourite part of the city."

Blaine's radiant smile made misery settle even heavier in Kurt's stomach, and his gut wrenched as he lead the way towards Central Park. He had heard of smiles that supposedly lit an entire room but had never seen a smile that so accurately fit that description until he met Blaine. It was maybe silly that Blaine's smile was going to be one of the things he would miss the most about him when he left, but he really would miss looking up and seeing that smile spreading across Blaine's face, crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes and lighting his irises up in varying shades of gold and hazel.

When they reached the spot in Central Park Kurt wanted to show Blaine, nothing was needed to be said to explain why the spot was special or why there, above the rest of New York City, was Kurt's favourite place. They stood side-by-side on rocky outcrops of land, gazing silently out over the dozens of skyscrapers towering over the park's trees. The seemingly abrupt change from the peace and greenery of parkland to the sharpness and bustle of the city made it feel like they were out in the open countryside, viewing the outskirts of the city from afar. They were taking a step back and viewing New York City from a distance, looking at the big picture instead of focussing on single streets lined with countless buildings.

Eventually, Kurt spoke.

"I come here when I need a break from the daily grinding routine, when I need an escape from work deadlines and the rush of the morning commute. It makes me feel I've left it all for a bit, that I've had a few hours of escape."

They stayed there for a while, gazing out across the stretch of park towards where the city began again. Though they didn't speak, Kurt felt something change between them - a bond strengthening, as if sharing a place so special to him with Blaine had deepened their emotional connection, making their relationship stronger and more precious. When they moved on and walked towards an exit from the park, Kurt felt closer to Blaine than he had felt an hour ago. He felt more at peace, too, and well-rested like he'd just awoken from a long, dreamless sleep, unbroken by alarm clocks or Rachel's singing. Sitting in his spot with Blaine had been the first time in a long time he hadn't been fretting about something or another, whether it be related to work or his personal life. He'd just enjoyed the view, the feeling of the sun on his face and the soft breeze in his hair, and sharing the moment with Blaine. And now, as he walked towards the street, he felt as though he was seeing New York through a different pair of eyes.

It was like he was seeing the city for the first time again; everything appeared awe-inspiring, bright, and full of promise. The atmosphere made his blood buzz in his veins once more, like some euphoric drug. He didn't know whether this was because he was showing Blaine around to, what was to him, a changed city, if it was his visit to his favourite place, or both, but he felt like he was a teenager again, viewing the city through eyes filtered by excitement and big dreams. He remembered why he fell in love with the city: the opportunities, the diversity, the possibilities, and why he had so desperately wanted to move here, why he had chosen it of all places as his escape from Ohio. He was seeing everything that had become lost as a blur in the background of the day-to-day rush of work and commuting and life. It had been years since he'd stopped to smell the roses, or in this case, slow down enough to actually see what was around him - to really see where he lived.

Sunlight gleaming off the countless windows of buildings piercing the blue sky, tiny cafés and cramped restaurants lining the side streets, the thrumming life of Times Square bleeding light and energy into the streets that ran away from it like arteries, the stories and music of Broadway...

It was beautiful. And he had Blaine to thank for this moment, this reminder of who he was and why he was here, something he had lost hold of within months of moving here when he became his job and another faceless city commuter. Now he was Kurt again. Kurt who loved fashion and was still blown away by how he was a designer; who adored musicals and the escape from reality and life's monotony they provided; who loved coffee and drinking a cup with a dash of cinnamon on a cold winter's morning when his breath hung in a cloud in the sharply cold air and the warmth of the cup stung his numb, bare hands; Kurt who was living his dream of being a fashion designer in New York, making his mark in the city full of dreamers and believers.

"Thank you," he told Blaine as they took in the view of Time's Square spread out before them, its many lights glowing brightly under the pink sky of dusk.

Blaine turned away from the lights and billboards to shoot Kurt a look of confusion. "What for?"

"For reminding me why I worked so hard to make it in New York," Kurt replied. "I've been so focused on the here and now I'd forgotten what I've achieved." His gaze wandered over the large billboards advertising various Broadway productions, the electronic signs, and the string of yellow cabs on the road. "I've never taken a step back to really look at where I am in life before today, so thank you."

Blaine looked at him for a long moment, his expression difficult to read, the look in his eyes tickling at a slowly dawning realisation in the back of Kurt's mind and drying up his throat. "Thank you for showing me around the city," Blaine said eventually. "It's changed so much from the place I'm used to; it's almost like being in another city."

"Changed for the better or for worse?" Kurt wondered.

Forehead scrunching in thought, Blaine ran his eyes over the surrounding area again. "In some way it's definitely better," he replied slowly. "But in other ways, it maybe isn't..." He shrugged and turned back to Kurt with a small smile. "I don't know, I haven't really been here long enough to judge; ask me again in a week or so."

'If you're still here,' Kurt added in his head. His good mood deflated slightly and he glumly watched a young couple take a picture of themselves with Time's Square in the background - arms around each other, wide smiles on their faces. He stamped his rising sadness with its bite of jealousy down. He touched Blaine's elbow. "Are you ready to head back? Rachel's out tonight so I thought we'd order in Chinese food for dinner."

"You can do that?" Blaine looked baffled.

Kurt couldn't help but smile at the expression on the other man's face. "This will be another new experience of twenty-first century living for you."