"American Airlines flight 30 to New York now boarding."

The announcement rang through the small seating area where Kurt was perched uncomfortably in one of the hard airport chairs. Aside from a few small groups of people talking quietly and drinking coffee, and several other lone passengers dozing with their heads resting against pillars or the wall, Kurt was the only one sitting in this area. Three rows of the same hard chairs that Kurt was currently sitting on separated him from the closest of his fellow passengers, allowing him a bit of privacy to talk to Blaine on the phone.

As soon as the announcement ended, the coffee drinkers got wearily to their feet and shuffled over to the gate to hand their boarding passes to the attendant with an overly bright smile fixed to her face. They were closely followed by the dozing travellers who yawned and dragged their feet up to the stiff attendant.

Kurt sighed heavily and began blindly groping for his carry-on bag that he'd dumped on the chair next to him. He was at LAX airport for the last flight of the day to New York. He really didn't want to leave, especially after Blaine had fainted and hit his head that morning, but he had a show to film tomorrow. He knew that with this flight being so late and arriving in New York at eight tomorrow morning, and the time difference between here and New York, he would be exhausted at work, but he didn't care; Blaine was more important.

"They're boarding my flight, so I'd better go." His fingers closed around the strap of his bag and he gave it a sharp tug as he clambered to his feet.

"I should be getting to bed anyway," Blaine said, "we're travelling to San Francisco tomorrow."

Kurt stretched and his back cracked. He shot the airport chair he had just vacated a glare before hoisting his bag onto his shoulder and making his way slowly over to the gate. "At least you'll be back in New York in four days." He fumbled in the pocket of his bag for his boarding pass.

He could almost hear Blaine smiling. "Yeah, I can't wait. I love touring, but I miss being home and sleeping in my own bed, even more so now that I have you in New York. And I miss you a lot more than my bed and apartment."

"Good to know I mean more to you than your bed," Kurt teased, slowing his pace as he neared the attendant.

"Watch it, mister, or I'll re-think my list of things I miss most. You are now dangerously close to being overtaken by my bowtie collection."

Kurt let out a mock indignant snort. "Just remember that it is me who cuddles with you, not the bowties."

"How do you know that the bowties don't?"

"Are you cheating on me with those damn bowties, Mr. Anderson?" Kurt asked in mock horror, coming to a stop a few feet away from the attendant so he could finish his conversation.

"No..." Blaine replied innocently. He chuckled and grew serious again. "Anyway, I'll let you board your plane. Have a safe journey home."

"You remember what that doctor told you and get plenty of sleep and food. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"I will," Blaine promised. "Bye, Kurt," he said softly.

Kurt smiled. "Sweet dreams, Blaine."

He hung up and turned his phone off for the flight before shuffling over to the attendant and handing over his boarding pass, automatically thanking her when she passed it back to him and wished him a nice flight.

Hoisting his bag more securely onto his shoulder, he made his way along the air bridge to the aircraft, smiling and nodding at the flight attendants who greeted him and feeling relieved that they seemed to notice that he wasn't in the mood to chat about his show or anything.

After shoving his bag into the overhead compartment, he collapsed into his seat and stared out the small, oval window at the dark airport, lit up with the lights of vehicles moving around on the ground and a few lights on the building. He turned down the offer of a pre-flight beverage, preferring instead to keep staring out the window and watching the lights on the airport vehicles move around.

Despite Blaine's assurances that he would be careful to eat and sleep enough, Kurt still couldn't prevent the gnawing feeling of worry for his boyfriend from nibbling away at him, like a little rat chewing away incessantly at his insides. Rationally, he knew Blaine would be ok and would no longer run on lack of food and sleep and Kurt trusted him to follow the doctor's orders, but he couldn't help but worry; he supposed it was an aftereffect of seeing Blaine slumped unresponsive on the bathroom floor...

He shivered, pushing that memory to the back of his mind and blinking his eyes back into focus on the lights outside the plane. ‘Blaine will be fine,' he told himself firmly. ‘He knows now that he can't go days without enough food or sleep and there are only four more days left of his tour. He'll be fine.'

The lights on the buildings started sliding away from him and he kept his eyes fixed on late-night LAX out his window, tuning out the safety information - he had flown enough to know it all by heart. More lights came into view as the plane slowly taxied to the runway: lights lining the roads linking the runways and parking area for the aircraft, lights on an airplane that had just landed and was passing them on a road parallel to theirs, lights of Los Angeles beyond the airport.

Eventually the long rows of lights lining the runway came into view and as the plane began to steadily accelerate along it, the sound of the engines increasing to a roar, Kurt flopped back against his seat and waited for the plane to take-off. Once it was in the air, he leaned forward to look out the window again, watching the lights of LA spread out below them becoming smaller as they climbed higher. He swallowed to adjust to the change in pressure in the cabin as more and more of LA slid beneath them. Blaine was down there somewhere, probably lying in bed by now...

He slammed the blind on the window shut and let himself fall back against his seat, closing his eyes as the plane continued to climb steadily higher. He needed to try and get some sleep on this flight unless he wanted to look a wreck on his show tomorrow.

The dazzling light of the sun was muted somewhat by the tinted windows of the car, but the view of Manhattan out them did not look any less bright. The crowds of New Yorkers on the streets, looking pinned down under the heavy layer of humid air pressing on the city; the snarl of traffic choking the sizzling roads; the buildings and sidewalks cooking under the hot sun, heat rising into the sticky air in shimmering waves; none of this dampened Blaine's mood, despite his dislike of humid weather. He was only minutes away from Kurt's apartment, where he had persuaded his driver and Charlie - who had helped him load his bags into the car - to drop him off, arguing against their protests that Kurt was at work and he should go back to his own apartment to put his stuff away and rest first and could go round to see Kurt later once he was home from work. Blaine argued that he wanted to surprise Kurt as he had surprised him by showing up in his LA hotel room unannounced. Though Kurt knew he was coming home today, he wasn't expecting Blaine to be round at his apartment until later that day.

He had even got Rachel in on the surprise, asking her to leave a key with the doorman for him and getting her to agree to stay out of the apartment that night. She even went one step further and arranged to spend the night at one of her cast mates' apartment so he and Kurt would have the whole night alone.

He continued to gaze out the window, but the city views all but disappeared as he ran over his plan for what must have been the tenth time. Charlie had joked about how it was like he was proposing with the amount of planning and effort he was putting into this, but Blaine just wanted Kurt to be surprised.

Dump his stuff in Rachel's room where it would be out of sight, go and buy any groceries he needed that weren't already in the apartment, start cooking dinner, set the table, shower and get changed, finish attending to the dinner, wait for Kurt to come home...

Rachel had given him a time period for when Kurt generally came home and as she had told Kurt that she was cooking dinner for them that night, seeing as they hadn't eaten together in weeks now since they'd both been so busy, she was confident that Kurt would be home within that period. So all Blaine had to do was make sure he checked the time regularly and stuck to his schedule and he would be fine. Should be easy enough.

All his self-reassurances about the simplicity of carrying out his plans did little to ease the flutter of nerves that hit him the second the car pulled up at the curb outside Kurt's apartment building. He did his best to ignore them as he gathered his bags and entered the building, collecting the key from the doorman. He ran through his plan again on the ride up to Kurt's floor in the elevator, which helped ease the fluttering a bit, like how going over his lyrics in his head had calmed his nerves before his early performances as a signed musician.

He slid the key into the door of Kurt's apartment and there was a sudden leaping, swooping sensation in his stomach that overpowered what remained of his nerves - happiness; overwhelming, pure, giddy happiness mixed with a sense of longing. He envisioned himself using his own key to unlock the door to the apartment he shared with Kurt, home after a day in the studio recording or performing somewhere, to find Kurt glancing up at him with those bright blue eyes of his before hurrying over to welcome him home with a kiss. Blaine had never wanted anything so badly in his entire life.

The apartment was as tidy as Rachel had promised it would be. He hurried through to her room and dumped his bags and guitar case in the corner, resisting the urge to pause to examine the numerous playbills, scripts, and sheet music she had displayed on her wall and stacked on her dressing table - he didn't have time for that.

He headed into the kitchen, pulling the slightly crumpled grocery list from the pocket of his jeans and searching through the kitchen cupboards and fridge, making a note of what he needed to buy.

Out the apartment, down in the elevator, and out onto the humid streets, his shirt sticking to his back with sweat as he hurried towards the small grocery store further down the road. He felt little relief at being in the air conditioned comfort of the store, too busy frantically scouring the aisles for the food he needed. He did breathe a sigh of relief when he left the store a short while later with everything he needed. He checked his watch as he walked back to the apartment, taking little notice of the muggy air; he was doing ok for time.

He fell a little behind schedule whilst cooking the food. Cooking had never been on his list of skills and after almost messing up in the early stages of making a sauce, he decided to take things slowly, reading every instruction in the recipe three times before acting on it. By the time he had moved on to meticulously setting the table he was hot and sweaty with his hair in disarray and smudges of sauce and flour on his face and arms. But even though he looked a mess he didn't go shower until he was sure the table was set perfectly down to the finest details like the tablecloth being straight and wrinkle-free.

After showering and studiously ignoring the fact that Kurt washed in that same shower, he dressed carefully, wasting more time by debating over which bowtie to wear and he cursed his inability to just settle with the first one that matched his outfit when he had to rush through taming his hair with gel. Luckily, he had years of practice and managed to gel it down in record time.

He just had time to put the final touches to the meal when he heard the sound of a key in the lock. He looked around the kitchen frantically; he hadn't planned this part. Should he run out to greet Kurt? Wait for him to find him? Jump out from somewhere and shout surprise? Ruling out the latter straight away, he decided to just wait for Kurt to find him. That would be like Blaine's vision from earlier of the two of them living together - Kurt coming home from work to Blaine cooking a meal for him. He turned back to the stove, his heart racing and his ears straining to hear Kurt's approach.

"Rach, I hope whatever you're cooking is good because I'm starving!" Kurt's voice called through from in the living area.

Blaine swallowed as he heard footsteps approaching the kitchen door. They paused for a moment and Blaine guessed Kurt had spotted the neatly laid table. He imagined Kurt's face creasing slightly in puzzlement.

Suddenly, the kitchen door was pushed open. "Rachel, why are-?" Kurt broke off and Blaine, heart pounding, spun around to face him. "Blaine?" Kurt's voice was barely above a whisper.

Blaine couldn't think of anything to say, he was rendered temporarily speechless by the sight of his boyfriend standing a few feet in front of him in tight jeans and a fitted blue shirt that made his eyes stand out. He knew it had only been four days since he had last seen him, but that was four days too many. He didn't need to say anything, Kurt covered the short distance between them in two strides and threw himself at Blaine, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him.

"How did you get in here?" he asked, once they'd broken apart, reminding Blaine of when he had asked Kurt almost the exact same thing in the hotel room in LA.

"Rachel left a key with the doorman for me. I planned this whole thing with her."

Kurt pressed kisses to his mouth, his cheeks, his forehead, the tip of his nose. "And here was me thinking I would only get to see you for a few hours tonight."

Blaine grinned at him. "Nope, you've got me for the whole night if you want. Rachel's staying over at a cast mate's place tonight."

His boyfriend stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, as if needing further confirmation of this. At Blaine's nod, he pulled him roughly against him, kissing him hungrily and pushing him backwards until Blaine was pressed up against the wall.

After a few minutes, Blaine pulled his mouth away. "Wait! Wait, dinner's ready and I spent hours making it. We can do this later."

Kurt dropped his hands away from Blaine. "Fine," he said with an exaggerated sigh. "The food had better be good."

Blaine laughed and stepped around Kurt to get to the stove and began stirring the contents of saucepans and switched off the oven. When he glanced up from taking a tray of bread out of the oven to find Kurt watching him with a small smile and a soft expression, he waved a hand at him. "Go sit down and I'll bring the food through in a minute."

When Kurt left the room he quickly finished plating up the food before carrying it through to his neatly set table which Kurt was sitting at, admiring the crisply folded napkins and artfully arranged floral centrepiece with wide eyes as if he couldn't believe it was all real.

"I can't believe you went through this much effort for me," he said, his voice breathy with shock.

Blaine slid a plate of food down in front of him and set the bread down on the table. "You are worth every second of blood, sweat, and tears."

Kurt looked up from examining the food. "There was blood and tears?"

Blaine dropped down into his chair and smiled a little sheepishly at him. "I cut my finger slicing vegetables," he admitted, holding up his left hand to show a bandaged finger. "There weren't any tears though, but there was a lot of sweat." Kurt's eyes travelled the length of his chest that showed above the table before slowly returning to meet his gaze again and Blaine wasn't sure, but he may have licked his lips - it was hard to tell in the dim light.

And then Kurt's gaze was back on his plate. "The food looks amazing, Blaine! I didn't know you could cook."

Blaine shrugged modestly as he helped himself to some bread. "I don't really; I had to follow a recipe very carefully to make this."

"Well, it's delicious," Kurt complimented as he cut into his chicken.

They talked about the last few days of Blaine's tour while they ate and Kurt filled Blaine in on the latest happenings on his show and in Rachel's life. Then Blaine cleared away the empty plates, refusing Kurt's protests that he wanted to help, and fetched the dessert, something that he was more nervous about than the main course as he wouldn't know if he had succeeded in making it properly until they started eating it.

It was with some apprehension that he set Kurt's dessert down in front of him before sliding into his own seat and picking up his spoon. He held his breath as he prodded gently as the surface of the chocolate sponge, and then, biting gently on his bottom lip, cut through the sponge with the spoon, silently cheering when rich, dark chocolate sauce poured out the tear in the sponge like lava out a volcano.

Across the table from him Kurt moaned loudly and Blaine's head snapped up. Kurt's eyes were closed as he slowly pulled the spoon out of his mouth, his expression one of utter bliss. "Oh my God, Blaine you have to make this every day." His eyes opened and met Blaine's across the table, the flickering candlelight making it look like he had dancing flecks of golden yellow in the blue of his eyes, like sunlight shimmering on the ocean. "I don't care if you followed a recipe for this or not, you can cook." He scooped up another spoonful of the dessert and Blaine had to lower his gaze back to his own plate when Kurt let out another, quieter moan.

Kurt continued to praise the dessert as they finished their meal - Blaine concentrating hard on his plate to stop himself from focusing too much on the sounds his boyfriend had made when he had first tasted the dessert. This time when Blaine went to clear the plates away, Kurt didn't give him the chance to turn down his offer to help as he stacked the plates up and swept into the kitchen with them before Blaine got the chance to protest. He was back from the kitchen in no time and tugging Blaine over to the couch where he kissed him.

"Thank you," Kurt murmured, his lips inches from Blaine's, his pale fingers smoothing across his chest. "No guy has ever cooked dinner for me before."

Blaine exhaled softly. "Get used to it because I plan on doing it more often," he whispered and closed the space between their lips.

Kurt tasted like chocolate and Blaine couldn't get enough of him. He kept pressing closer, his hands roaming over Kurt's body - down his back, over the swell of his bicep, across his chest, along his jawline - as his lips and tongue explored Kurt's mouth.

Kurt turned his head to the side slightly, breathing heavily. "I love you," he whispered.

Blaine's heart leapt, his stomach swooped pleasantly, and his breathing hitched, and for a moment he was speechless, frozen in breath-taking wonder. "I love you, too," he said softly.

Kurt tilted his head back up to capture Blaine's lips again in a tender kiss. Blaine caressed the line of his jaw lovingly, his heart swelling with happiness. It felt as if someone had injected pure euphoria into his veins and the small part of his brain that wasn't floating in love and bliss thanked everyone who had organised his appearance on Kurt's show. Who knew how long it would have taken to find Kurt without them - if ever.

A strange, low buzzing interrupted Kurt's dreams and he frowned, burying his face into the back of Blaine's neck and letting the warmth and comfort tug him back down into sleep again. The buzzing started up again, lasting for a split second, before stopping for a slightly longer period and then buzzing again. He raised his head groggily, searching around for the source of the sound in annoyance. His gaze finally landed on Blaine's phone, which was vibrating on the nightstand by Blaine's side of the bed. Grumbling under his breath, he slid out of bed, trying not to disturb Blaine, and raced around to snatch up the phone, which buzzed in his hand. He peered down at the screen, not wanting to answer it if it wasn't a name he recognised; George was displayed on the screen.

He accepted the call. "Hi, George," he said quietly, moving away from the bed so as not to wake Blaine.

There was a short pause, then, "Um, hi? Is Blaine there?"

Hearing the puzzled tone of his voice, Kurt said, "George, it's Kurt."

"Oh, oh, hey, Kurt, I didn't recognise your voice," he apologised. "So, is Blaine there? I wanted to ask him something."

"He's asleep just now," Kurt told him. "Do you want me to-?"

There was a small groan from the bed. "Kurt?" Blaine said, his voice low and rough from sleep. "Who are you talking to?"

"Hold on a second, Blaine's awake," Kurt told George. He walked back to the bed and sat down beside Blaine. "George is on the phone, he wants to ask you something."

Blaine held out his hand for the phone, still looking half asleep and blinking away the vestiges of dreams. "'Sup, George?"

Kurt lay back down beside his boyfriend, lightly tracing abstract patterns over his bicep.

"Can't, George, sorry, Kurt and I are going out today; he has the day off work."

Kurt smiled and rolled over onto his side to face Blaine, pressing a kiss to his exposed collarbone.

"Nothing too exciting, just Central Park and coffee and just being with each other."

Kurt draped an arm over Blaine's waist and kissed the corner of his mouth as Blaine said ‘bye' to George and hung up, leaning over to put his phone back on the nightstand.

"What was that about Central Park?" Kurt asked, snuggling closer to Blaine and placing open-mouthed kisses down his neck.

Blaine smiled at him, raising a hand and trailing his fingers lazily through Kurt's hair. "We've never been there as a couple, so I thought it would be nice to go for a walk there together."

"Sounds good to me," Kurt said, pausing in his kissing of Blaine's neck to speak. Blaine reached for him but he rolled away and climbed off the bed to go and shower.

"Kuuuurt..." Blaine whined.

He laughed as he stepped into the bathroom. "I thought you had big romantic plans to go for a walk in the park?" He chuckled again at Blaine's answering grumble before closing the bathroom door.

"This is nice," Kurt said with a soft, contented sigh.

Blaine smiled at him and gently swung their clasped hands.

After getting coffee - which was not really the best drink to have in the hot summer weather - they had come to Central Park and had been strolling around it since. It was another hot, humid day so the park was busy with families, tourists, couples, and groups of people outside enjoying the warm weather. This meant that Kurt and Blaine were once again wearing hats and sunglasses, though the park was so busy that hardly anyone glanced in their direction.

Blaine had spent a good ten minutes wondering aloud how Kurt could still wear tight jeans, a button-down shirt, and a waistcoat in this weather when he was feeling warm in pants that left his ankles exposed and a short-sleeved shirt. Kurt had to explain to him his love for wearing layers and the sacrifices one made for fashion. Blaine had listened intently, looking somewhat fascinated by this small insight into his mind and Kurt was reminded once again of why he loved him - not many people would be so genuinely interested in something that they weren't all that passionate about. Sure, Blaine was interested in fashion to a certain degree - he read Vogue, and didn't just throw on any old outfit - but he wasn't as passionate about it as Kurt was, yet he still listened to Kurt's detailed analysis and reasonings of outfits.

They were in a relatively quiet part of the park now where leafy trees cast dappled shade onto the path and the shouts and laughter of children were only heard distantly.

Blaine suddenly dropped his hand and slipped an arm around his waist, tugging him against his side. He turned his head to the side and pressed a light kiss to Kurt's neck. "You were too far away."

Kurt rubbed his boyfriend's sun-warmed back. "Can't have that."

"Nope," Blaine agreed, popping the p.                                                                                                 

They rounded a curve in the path and suddenly, for the first time that day, there was no one else to be seen. Blaine noticed this and he spun Kurt to face him and kissed him eagerly, his hands sliding up Kurt's chest.

"Blaine!" Kurt reprimanded playfully when his boyfriend accidentally knocked his hat off. When Blaine grinned and continued to kiss him, not letting him pick his hat up, he raised a hand and casually knocked Blaine's hat to the ground.

"Hey!" Blaine protested, letting go of Kurt to pick his hat up, but Kurt beat him to it, snatching Blaine's hat off the ground and jogging backwards a few steps, holding the hat in the air out of Blaine's reach.

When Kurt reached where his own hat lay, he bent to pick it up, keeping his eyes on his boyfriend and still holding Blaine's hat out of reach. Just as he straightened up, his hat clutched in his free hand, Blaine jumped forwards and knocked Kurt's hat out of his hand again, tickling Kurt's waist when he tried to pick it up again.

"Ok!" Kurt gasped as he staggered towards a nearby bench. "I surrender!" He collapsed on the bench and handed Blaine his hat back.

Blaine scooped up Kurt's hat and brushed the dust from it. Kurt held out his hand for it as Blaine sat down beside him, but Blaine held the hat away from him. "Kiss first," he demanded with a slight pout.

With a sigh, Kurt leaned forward to give him a quick peck on the lips, but Blaine grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in for a fierce kiss.

"Here's your hat." He passed a gasping and flushed Kurt his hat with a smirk.

Kurt jammed the hat back on his head, tweaking the peak to adjust the angle. "Hate you," he told Blaine, but he was smiling.

Blaine flashed him a wide smile. "Love you, too, honey."

Kurt just smiled and shook his head, holding out his hand for Blaine to take as he got to his feet. "Come on, we'll go back to my place and you can make me lunch."

"Oh, I can, can I?" Blaine took his hand and stood up, putting his hat back on.

Kurt frowned at the trees behind the bench - he thought he'd seen a flash of movement, like someone jumping behind a tree. When nothing appeared, he shrugged and shook it off - it was probably just a bird or a squirrel. He adjusted Blaine's hat for him. "Yes, you can. After that meal you cooked me last night, you're not getting away with not cooking for me."

"I'm not making you that chocolate dessert every day, that's for special occasions only. It tastes better if you only have it on occasion."

Kurt heaved a mock sigh of resignation. "Fine."