Blaine stood on the street outside his building, his overnight bag looped over his shoulder and his cane gripped firmly in his left hand.  Until a little while ago he had thought they were taking the train to New Jersey, but then Kurt texted and told him that he had borrowed Cora's car again.  It was a sweltering afternoon, and although Blaine had waited until the last minute to come downstairs, he was already feeling pretty gross, sweat dripping down his back between his shoulder blades.  Even his feet felt hot in his boat shoes.  Hopefully Kurt was right about them being able to use his uncle's pool – today was definitely a perfect day for it.

Before he knew it he was seated in Cora's thankfully air conditioned Camry, music playing and Kurt driving confidently over yet another scary bridge.  The traffic was dense – it seemed like everyone in New York was fleeing the city, hoping to take advantage of one of the last weekends of the summer, heading for the beach or the mountains or anywhere where you could get a breath of fresh air.  Blaine wondered how Sam was doing.  Nate had come by that morning to pick him up, Cora and another girl already in the car.  It was weird to him that Sam was going away for the weekend with a bunch of strangers.  Kurt had reassured him a little bit - he had gotten to know Cora fairly well over the summer, and he thought she seemed like a good person, if a little overdramatic at times, as suited a NYADA rising star.  At least Sam had a lot of experience dealing with divas.  McKinley had apparently prepared him well for that, if nothing else.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Kurt asked as they sped up, apparently finding a break in the traffic somewhere on the New Jersey Turnpike. 

“Just thinking about Sam on the beach.”

“Nice thoughts?” Kurt asked with a smirk.

Blaine laughed.  “Believe me, I've seen the best and the worst of Sam Evans over the past few years.  He isn't just chiseled muscles and pouty lips.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.  He trims his toenails just like everyone else.  And it took him forever to cut his hair.  He still had that awful ponytail when he showed up in Lima.”

“Not my favorite look for Sam.”

“Me neither.”

“How'd you get him to cut it off?”  Kurt asked, pausing for a minute to check the GPS.

“Why do you think it was me?” 

“Come on, really?”

“Okay, fine.  I did beg him to cut it.”  Blaine smiled, remembering the conversation.  “In exchange, he made me promise never to use hair gel anymore, at least not like I used to.  I hadn't been using it much anyway, but I think he was afraid I was going to revert once I had a reason to get out of bed.”

“Never?  Seems kind of harsh.  Aren't there any exceptions to the rule?”

Blaine blushed.  “Actually, there are.”

Kurt turned and looked at him, and Blaine covered his face.  “That is not where I thought this was going,” Kurt said.  “Now I'm scared to ask.”

“No, it's not anything like that.  It's just embarrassing.”    Blaine gazed at Kurt, so beautiful in profile as he concentrated on the road ahead of them.  “The deal was I'm allowed to use as much as I want when I get dressed up, or for performances.  Or if I thought I was going to see you.”

“If you were going to see me?  Why?”

“I didn't know if you'd like it this way,” Blaine waved a hand towards his head, his curls held loosely in place with just some light product.  “You liked me when it was the old way.  I figured if I was ever going to see you again, at a Glee club reunion or something, I wanted to look the same.”

“But then I caught you by surprise, sans gel.”

“You did.”  Blaine reached over and squeezed Kurt's leg.  “I guess it turned out okay, right?”

“Yes, it definitely did.”  Kurt smiled.

They settled into companionable silence, Blaine fiddling with the music on his phone until he had an appropriately summery driving mix arranged.  He had almost started to doze off when Kurt pulled off the road into a small shopping center, dotted with cute little stores and quaint benches. 

“We're not far from my uncle's house.”  Kurt said.  “The bakery over there has the most wonderful éclairs.  Pies, too.   Let's go pick out something decadent.”

A few minutes later, laden with bakery boxes, they headed back to the car.  As they approached, Kurt gave Blaine an appraising look, then stopped him with a hand on his arm.  “Want to drive?”

Blaine's stomach flipped as he realized that Kurt had probably set up their whole day just for this moment.  “Is this why we didn't take the train?” he asked.

Kurt shrugged, a little smile tugging at his mouth.  “Maybe.”

Blaine took a deep breath.  “Okay.  I'll try.  But no promises.”  He took the keys from Kurt and got into the driver's seat, carefully stretching his leg out to the gas pedal.  Without turning the car on, he pushed against the pedal a few times, then moved his foot over to the brake.  He glanced up at Kurt, who was watching him patiently.

“How's it feel?”

“Still a little stiff.  But it doesn't really hurt much.”  Blaine pressed on, adjusting the mirrors, then turned to face Kurt again.  “I used to get really bad cramps in my thigh, the muscles would just totally seize up.  But that hasn't happened in a while.”

“If it doesn't feel right, just pull over.  It's pretty quiet around here, we don't need to get back on the highway or anything.”

“Okay.”  Blaine turned on the car and slowly backed out of the parking space.  Kurt gave him directions as he eased out on to the street, driving through the center of the little town.  God, it felt good to drive again.  His leg hurt a little more when he pressed on the brake at a traffic light, and he had a flashback to one memorable wipe out while skiing years ago when, at the end of a long day, his legs were too tired to execute a turn properly.  None of that now, he thought, concentrate.  At the next light, he glanced over at Kurt, who was looking back at him out of the corner of his eye, a soft smile on his face.

“How's it going?”  Kurt asked.

“It's good,” Blaine said, nodding.  “Really good.”

After about ten minutes, as they drove through a pretty neighborhood bursting with greens and flowering bushes, Blaine pulled over.

“Are you okay?  We're just a few blocks away,” Kurt asked, suddenly concerned.

“I'm fine.  I just need to do something.”  Blaine reached across the console and wrapped his arms around Kurt, holding him as tight as he could given the angle.  “Thank you,” he breathed into his neck.  He still could hardly believe the trouble Kurt had gone to just to give him a chance to drive again.  Just one more thing that Kurt Hummel had brought back into his life.

Kurt relaxed into Blaine's arms and squeezed back.  “You're welcome.” 

----------

Burt was sitting on the front steps of his brother's house as the car pulled up and parked at the end of the driveway.  He saw Blaine get out of the driver's side, and Kurt skip over to him, giving him a hug and then handing him his cane.  Blaine was whispering something in Kurt's ear and Kurt was tucking his arm around Blaine's waist, smiling at whatever sweet message Blaine was no doubt imparting.  It reminded Burt of when his boy was in high school, back before distance and tragedy had separated him from his first love, when every moment was filled with the opportunity to spend it with Blaine.  Maybe this was like a second (or third?) honeymoon period for them, their relationship new and shiny with promise.  He only hoped that this time it would mature into something they could hang on to. 

Burt could tell exactly when Kurt noticed Burt watching them, as he gave Burt a happy nod, then took his boyfriend's arm and headed towards the house.  But instead of his son's usual impatient stride, he and Blaine walked slowly, Kurt glancing up at Burt occasionally, but also seemingly enjoying the short walk, looking at the flowers along the front border and stopping to turn and point out the park down the street.

Slow or not, Blaine was walking, and as he approached, Burt couldn't help but think of the last time he saw him.  Blaine's parents had thrown a party for him and Sam before they left for New York, with music playing in their backyard and barbeque on the grill.  Burt had only stayed for a little while, sitting and talking with Blaine who, in his wheelchair, tried valiantly to keep his game face on as various New Directions kids played with the karaoke machine, dancing and singing along whether it was their turn or not.  Sam had been keeping a close eye on Blaine, stopping by frequently with snacks and stories, but even he couldn't change the fact that Blaine wasn't going to be step touching that day. 

Burt groaned as he stood up, then closed the distance between himself and the boys. 

“You made it,” he said warmly as he pulled Kurt into a hug.  Kurt hugged firmly back.  Burt was continually surprised at how tall his son was, even though he had been this height for years now.  Time was funny that way.

He let go of Kurt and turned to Blaine, who was smiling shyly.  “It's really good to see you, Burt,” Blaine said, sticking out his hand.

“Oh, come here, kid,” Burt scoffed, giving Blaine a hug.  He stepped back, keeping his hands on Blaine's shoulders and looking him up and down.  “You look good.”  He really did, Burt thought.  Blaine was tan, and fit, but more than that, he looked happy.  He glanced at Kurt, who had a similarly smitten look on his face.   Ah, young love, he thought, how nice to see you again.  “Leg feeling better these days?”

“Much better, thanks.”

“All right.  Let's go inside. Carole's gonna be thrilled to see you two.”

----------

Later that night, Blaine and Kurt were alone in the pool, hanging on to an inflatable raft with just their heads and arms out of the water.  They were drifting contentedly, able to chat lazily and trade chlorine-flavored kisses, without having to move very much.  Despite the fact that the sun had set, it was still ridiculously hot, and they weren't willing to expend any more energy than necessary. 

Blaine thought the visit was going well so far.  It was wonderful to see Burt and Carole again, and the two of them seemed to be on good terms – if Kurt hadn't told him they'd been having problems, he never would have known.  He hoped Burt would give Kurt a little more information, he knew how nervous it made Kurt not to know what was going on.   Carole had seemed pleased by the box of chocolate mice from Burdick's that Blaine had brought her, and they had a good conversation about all the neat little places Blaine and Sam had discovered in their neighborhood.  Kurt's uncle Howard was a quieter version of Burt, even down to his penchant for baseball caps.  He didn't say much during dinner, but turned out to have a wicked sense of humor when he and Burt got into a splash fight in the pool.  No one had mentioned Finn, which was kind of awkward, but Blaine figured he'd just go with the flow.  He might bring it up with Kurt later, if an appropriate opportunity came up.

Kurt shifted on the raft and looked at his hands, rubbing his fingers together.  “I'm turning into a prune.  Want to head up?  I checked out our room when I brought the bags up, the a/c is working pretty well.”

“Sure.”  Blaine picked up one of Kurt's hands and brought it to his mouth, kissing his wrinkly fingertips.  “You sure everyone's okay with us sharing a room?”

“I think Howard just assumed we would.  He's always been cool with me, you don't need to worry about him.”

“He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is.  I'm glad you got to meet him.  I didn't really get to know him very well until I moved to New York.  For some reason, he was never that interested in visiting Lima.”

“Gee, how strange.”

Kurt gave Blaine a drippy kiss on the cheek and then slid off the raft, hanging on to it with one hand and kicking until they were in the low end.  He wrapped his arms around Blaine from behind and draped his body over him as they swayed in the water.  Blaine hummed at the feel of Kurt's warm skin up against his own, and turned his head for a few more kisses before he stood up.  “Okay, let's go.”

They were staying in a small guest room over the garage, low on style but high on privacy.  The only access was an outside staircase which Blaine had yet to try, but he figured if he took it slowly enough he'd be okay.  As he pulled himself out of the pool, however, feeling heavy as he came up out of the water, he realized how tired he was.  A day of swimming in the hot sun had apparently taken more out of him than he had thought.  Blaine sat down at the edge of the pool and considered his options.  “Maybe we could just sleep out here?” he asked jokingly.  “Those lounge chairs were pretty comfortable this afternoon.”

Kurt grabbed their towels from a chair and handed one to Blaine, sitting down next to him and kicking his feet back and forth in the water.  “If you're worried about getting up there, we can always camp out on the living room floor.”  Kurt rubbed his hair dry with the towel.  It was so unusual to see Kurt this way, so relaxed and unstyled, yet so clearly content.  “But there's a really big, comfortable bed up in that room.  And what looks like a really nice shower.”

“You'll help me with the stairs?”  Blaine asked shyly.

“Of course,” Kurt said, pushing a damp curl off Blaine's forehead and giving him a kiss.  “The bed wouldn't be nearly as comfortable without you in it.”

----------

Saturday was just as scorchingly hot as Friday, and after spending most of the day by the pool, everyone retreated inside to the air conditioning for afternoon naps.  Kurt and Blaine curled up on the couch together, idly watching How I Met Your Mother reruns until they fell asleep.  When Blaine woke up, Kurt was gone, but Blaine could hear him talking softly in the kitchen.  It sounded like he was with Burt.  Blaine turned over and dozed for a while more, not wanting to disturb their conversation, but eventually his foot cramped and he had to get up.  As he passed by the kitchen on the way to the bathroom, he heard his name, and despite himself, stopped to listen.

“I don't know what to do about Blaine.  The summer's almost over, and things just aren't going to be the same.”

Blaine felt his stomach twist and he put a hand on the wall for support.  What was Kurt talking about?

“What does this have to do with your audition?”  Burt asked.

“Between school and a show, every minute is full.  Remember when I was in Mormon?  I didn't even come home for Christmas.  I just don't think I can do another show and have a boyfriend.”

Someone in the kitchen scraped their chair backwards as they stood up and Blaine pushed off the wall, limping as fast as he could to the hall bathroom and shutting the door quickly behind him.  His heart was racing and he felt like he was going to faint.  Was Kurt breaking up with him?  Everything had seemed to be going so well.  Why would he bring him out here to see Burt and Carole if they were breaking up?  That just couldn't be what was going on.  And what audition were they talking about?

He took a few deep breaths and splashed some water on his face.  He and Kurt were good together, he knew it.  They had shared so much this summer, revealed so much of themselves to each other.  They were building something new, together, despite all the pain they had gone through.  Kurt wouldn't just throw that away (he did before, but that was different, don't think about that).  Blaine had to get a grip and just talk to him about it.  It would all make sense if they just talked it through, it had to.

Although, now that he thought about it, Kurt's concerns about performing had been on their “things to talk about” list from the beginning, and yet it had never come up.  Blaine hadn't thought about that list for weeks.  It had seemed sort of like a defense mechanism at the time, a way to manage all the scary stuff that they needed to address in order to start fresh.  But somehow this issue had managed to stay off the agenda.  Maybe it was more serious than Blaine had realized. 

Blaine was quiet all through dinner, and stayed out of the evening debate about what game to play afterwards.  They finally settled on Taboo, which was usually one of Blaine's favorites, but he just couldn't get into it.  He kept remembering Kurt saying “I just don't think I can do another show and have a boyfriend,” as if he were a part-time job or a time-consuming extracurricular.  After they said their good nights, Blaine slipped out of the house while Kurt was talking to Carole about breakfast, and dragged himself up the stairs to their room over the garage.  He was already changed and in bed when Kurt came in.

“There you are.  Why'd you come up without me?”

Blaine shrugged.  “Just tired.”

Kurt gave him an odd look but didn't engage.  He took his toiletry bag into the bathroom and closed the door, and Blaine could tell he was rushing through his moisturizing routine from how quickly the snap of one bottle followed the next.  Calm down, Blaine, he told himself.  Nothing is wrong here, it's going to be fine.  Just talk to him.  A year and a half of therapy and he was well aware that communication was one of his biggest problems, but it really didn't make it any easier to do it right.  Now he just realized when he was doing it wrong.  He would laugh if he didn't feel so ill. 

Kurt came out of the bathroom, somehow managing to look stylish and graceful even though he was only wearing a t-shirt and sleep pants.  He came over to the bed but didn't lie down.  Instead he sat facing Blaine, folding his legs up under him, and pulled a pillow on to his lap.

“Is something wrong?”  Kurt's voice was gentle, not at all angry despite the weird vibe Blaine knew he must have been giving off all night.

You tell me, he wanted to snap, but he held it back and took a deep breath, pushing himself up to sit mirroring Kurt.  He rubbed the back of his neck, afraid to say anything, but knowing he had to.  “I overheard you talking to your father about an audition?”  Blaine struggled to keep his voice from shaking.

Kurt looked surprised, like this wasn't what he thought Blaine was going to say.  “Um, yeah.  Pippin's run got extended, and they're looking to add a few ensemble members.”  Suddenly Kurt must have remembered the rest of the conversation, and his face dropped.  “Wait, what else did you hear?”  His gentle demeanor had disappeared, replaced by a much more defensive stance.  It was classic Kurt, and Blaine tried not to read anything into it.

“Not much.  But it seemed liked you were making a choice.” 

“I am.  It's the only one that makes any sense.”

Blaine turned away, trying to catch his breath.  How could Kurt just sit there so calmly and break up with him?  What did he do wrong this time?

“Blaine, why are you so upset about this?”  Kurt sounded more annoyed than concerned, and Blaine couldn't take it anymore.

“Look, I know summer's over and everything, but I had no idea you thought this was just some fling.  I guess you are going to be an excellent actor, though, Kurt, because I really believed this was real.  And I think I'm allowed to be upset about you breaking up with me.”

“Blaine, you idiot.”  Kurt came up on his knees and grabbed Blaine by the shoulders.  “What the hell are you talking about?  I love you.  I'm not breaking up with you.”

Blaine glanced at Kurt's eyes, sincere and confused.  “You're not?  But you told your dad it wasn't going to work, being cast in a show and having a boyfriend.”

“It wouldn't.  And that's why I'm not going to the audition.”

Blaine froze.  “So you're going to give up performing because of me?”

“It's not just about you, Blaine,” Kurt said tightly.  “You don't understand.  This isn't my first time around.  I spent almost a year doing nothing but going to class, rehearsals, and performances.  If I wasn't at NYADA, I was at the theater.  Doing my homework when I wasn't on stage, going over cues when I was supposed to be paying attention in class.  Feeling like I wasn't good enough at either one.  It was exhausting.”

“But you said NYADA students do it all the time, they just reduce their work load, or take a semester off.  You can't stop performing, Kurt, you love it.  It's who you are.”

Kurt shoved himself off the bed and walked over to the window, looking out over the yard.  “I didn't expect this from you.  I thought you of all people would understand.  I thought you were on my side.”

“Kurt, I am on your side.  Of course I am.  But there's got to be a way to balance all the things you want in your life.  You shouldn't have to give up your dream–“

“You're not listening to me.”  Kurt grabbed his shoes from where he had left them by the door and turned to Blaine.  “I'm going for a walk.  Don't wait up.”  He was out the door before Blaine could even push himself off the bed.

Blaine considered going after him, but falling down the staircase in an attempt to catch up probably wouldn't help matters any.  Not exactly a grand romantic gesture.  He shook his head, trying to figure out how what started off with Kurt saying he wasn't breaking up with him turned into a fight. 

Kurt's phone was still in the charger on the dresser, so texting him wouldn't do any good.  Blaine got his own phone from his overnight bag and then slid under the covers, hesitating briefly before typing out a text.

From Blaine:  You busy?

From Sam:  Nope.  You?

Blaine laughed despite the catch in his throat.  If he was busy, why would he have texted Sam? 

From Blaine:  No.  How's the beach party?

From Sam:  Cora and her friend Minnie had too much to drink and are sleeping it off.  I'm playing the guitar.

From Blaine:  Sorry.  You can go back to entertaining the masses.

From Sam:  No, I was just playing around.  Everyone else is either asleep or paired up.  Except Nate, I think he went to get more booze.  Which we really don't need.

From Blaine:  I miss you.

Nope, he wasn't too dependent on Sam at all.  Not at all.

From Sam:  Everything okay?

From Blaine:  I had a fight with Kurt.  First I thought he was going to break up with me, but he wasn't.  But then we had a fight anyway.

From Sam:  About what?

From Blaine:  I'm still trying to figure it out.  We were talking about him auditioning for Pippin, and he didn't want to, and I said he should, and he said I wasn't listening to him.  And then he walked out.

From Sam:  Well, were you listening to him?

Blaine started to type his answer, then paused.  He had heard Kurt's words, of course, but he didn't give them much weight, because Kurt couldn't be right about not wanting to perform.  Could he?

From Blaine:  Maybe I wasn't.

From Sam:  Guess you know what to do next time.

From Blaine:  I wish you were here.  I need a hug.

From Sam:  Even the power of your amazing charm can't make that work tonight, dude.  But if I was there, I'd give you an awesome hug.

From Blaine:  Thanks, Sam.

From Sam:  Remember he really loves you, okay?  It's going to be all right.  See you tomorrow?

From Blaine:  See you tomorrow.

Blaine slid further under the covers, his back turned towards the door, a pillow scrunched up under his head.  He knew Kurt loved him, but it felt like Kurt was making decisions without clueing him in to what was really going on.  And maybe he wasn't listening properly to Kurt, but then Kurt was the one who cut off their conversation and walked out.  He went round and round with it all until his head hurt and he wasn't sure whether he was awake or dreaming.  He thought he had finally almost fallen asleep when he heard Kurt come back in the room.  Blaine wanted to talk to him or reach out to him but he didn't, he just lay there, frozen, hoping Kurt would say something or at least put his arms around him. But he didnt.