"I have a proposition for you."

Blaine groaned while Kurt planted small kisses all across his neck, everywhere except for the hickey Blaine was sure Kurt had just given him.

"That's not fair. You can't keep using our…alone time…to suggest things you know I won't want to do."

Kurt drew a careful hand down from Blaine's neck, trailing with light fingers down his chest, his ribs, his hip, his thigh, then circled around and squeezed his ass. He leaned into Blaine's ear and rubbed his forehead against the side of Blaine's head. "Oh, yeah? Who says?"

"Me," Blaine said. He wanted to elaborate, but with everything Kurt was doing on top of him, one syllable was all he could manage.

"Well," Kurt started, drawing the hand on his behind back around and dragging his fingers under Blaine's shirt. "It's a fun thing. I promise." He kissed his way down Blaine's neck to his chest, planting soft kisses on top of Blaine's shirt. "Besides, we're leaving in less than a week, heading off to the Big Apple without so much as a second glance to all of our friends and family here. It wouldn't be right to leave without seeing them all again one last time before we all go our separate ways."

Blaine stilled, breath caught in his throat. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

Kurt laid a hand on Blaine's chest and rested his chin on top of it, looking up at Blaine through his eyelashes in a way that Blaine knew he was hoping came across as cute and irresistible. "What do you think I'm suggesting?"

Closing his eyes and laying his head back, he groaned, "Kurt. No."

"Oh, come on, Blaine! It'll be fun!"

"No," he repeated, opening his eyes.

"It'll just be a small little get-together for all of our friends. I'll invite all of New Directions; you can invite all your Warbler friends. You wouldn't even really be able to call it a party! That's how small it would be!"

"Kurt, you said it yourself; we're leaving in less than a week. Have you even started packing?"

Kurt scoffed. "Of course I have."

"Well look around; I haven't. I need to pack, and get things set up and ready to go, confirm my flight, all of that. I don't have time to plan a party. Besides, isn't this a little short notice?"

"Not at all! We'll have it Thursday night, leaving Friday open for any last-minute packing, but giving everyone 3 days to plan. And you won't have to worry about a thing, I'll plan it all. I'll even help you pack if you're super nice."

"How are you going to have time to pack your own stuff, help me pack my stuff, and plan this party?" Blaine brought a hand to cup Kurt's cheek. "Baby, you're gonna wear yourself thin before you're even in New York."

Kurt shivered—(Blaine knew it was because he called him "baby" and did a mini-victory dance in his head)—and pulled himself up, straddling Blaine's thigh. He nudged his knee against Blaine's crotch, and, okay, maybe this party didn't sound so bad after all.

"Don't worry about me. I'm an excellent multi-tasker."

"As promising as that double entendre sounds, let's stay on track, hmm?"

"Fine," Kurt said, smirking. "Small get-together. This Thursday. My house. Okay? It'll be a good way for you to meet all of my friends before we all divide up. Tina and Mike are going to California, Artie, Mercedes and Puck are staying here, Sam is going back to Tennessee with his family. We're all scattering and it's important to me that my friends know and love you so that when we send them wedding invites they know who I'm marrying."

Damn. Why did Kurt have to pull the Future Card? He knew how much it made Blaine melt for them to discuss their future like that.

No. Focus.

"That's only like half the club, Kurt," he pointed out, running his hands up and down Kurt's thighs, letting them rest at his hips.

"So?"

"Well, what about the rest of them?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and huffed like this was the most exhausting question in the world for him to answer. "Okay, fine, you caught me. Finn, Rachel, Santana, Brittany and Quinn are all coming to New York, too. But New York City is huge and we'll all be far from each other and too busy to see each other, so it'll be just the same as if they were somewhere else."

"You're telling me you're never going to see your brother or your best friend who, incidentally, is also his girlfriend?"

"I…Just say yes, Blaine! It's one small party! Don't you want to see your Warbler friends? What about Wes and David, or Trent, or Nick, or Jeff?"

Blaine cocked an eyebrow. "How'd you remember all of their names? I didn't think I ever mentioned Nick or Jeff."

"Please, Blaine. I remember everything you tell me."

Blaine smiled, sitting up and bringing one of Kurt's legs around so that he was totally straddling Blaine's lap. He reached his hands around to firmly grasp Kurt's waist and bring their bodies flush against one another, leaning in and kissing him. Kurt whimpered against his mouth, his hands coming up to circle around and tug at the curls at the base of Blaine's neck. For a moment, Blaine thought he'd won, and they could move past all of this ridiculous party talk. He should have known it wouldn't be that easy. Not with Kurt.

"So, party?" Kurt asked, pulling back.

He sighed and dropped his head to rest against Kurt's chest, right under his collarbone. He was running out of excuses not to have the party, and he knew it, but he didn't want to tell Kurt the real reason he didn't want it. Though, with how persistent Kurt was being, it looked like he was going to have to.

"Kurt," he murmured, keeping his head down, "you're planning on inviting Puck, aren't you?"

"Well, of course. He's part of the family too, despite his delinquent tendencies."

"And what happened at the last party you attended with Puck present?"

There was a pause, and Blaine knew Kurt was thinking; thinking back to his junior year, a party Kurt described to him as being a total trainwreck at the home of one Rachel something. He could practically hear the gears turning and clicking into place in Kurt's head, and he knew the exact moment where Kurt realized why he was so skeptical of this party.

"Oh," came Kurt's soft reply. "Blaine," he slid his hands from behind Blaine's neck to his face, tilting it up to look at him. His eyes were filled with such a gentle understanding that Blaine's heart burst at how lucky he was to have someone who loved him so unconditionally. "You don't have to worry about that. I'll warn Puck when I invite him not to bring any alcohol, okay? I won't let what happened last time happen again. Although, I wish you would have told me two weeks ago why you didn't want to go to Scandals, but it's behind us, and it won't be repeated; everything will be fine. The party will be one hundred percent alcohol-free. I'll even check everyone when they arrive to make sure there is absolutely no alcohol on their person if you want."

He laughed, kissing Kurt's nose. "That's a little excessive. I think just telling Puck ahead of time should be fine. None of my friends would dare bring alcohol; they've seen me drunk."

Kurt's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Wait, was that a yes? Are you agreeing to the party? Is that your consent? Don't answer that, I'm considering that your OK to have the party. No going back now, Anderson! This party is going to be so great, we're going to have so much fun, you'll see!"

Blaine groaned both at his boyfriend's excitement and because he was climbing off of him and running across the room to grab his bag. "Are you leaving?"

"I have to if I want to get started on this party planning to have it ready by Thursday."

"Are you sure you can't stay just a little bit longer?"

Kurt giggled and came back to lean over the side of the bed, touching a hand to Blaine's chest. "Aww, sweetie, you're so adorable when you're needy."

Blaine crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not needy."

"No, of course not. I don't know why I said that." Kurt winked and brought his hand to Blaine's face, brushing away the dark tendrils that fell on his forehead. "Seriously, I do need to go. I have a lot to do. And you need to call your friends and invite them. Invite as many people as you want, okay?"

"Shouldn't you at least run this by your dad before we start on inviting and planning?"

His boyfriend lowered his eyes and smiled sheepishly. "I already asked him this weekend."

"You little sneak!" Blaine gasped, grabbing Kurt's hand and slapping him lightly on top of his hand. "Do you always plan things you know I won't like then convince me to agree to them with your sex appeal?"

"Is my sex appeal really so great that I can use it to get you to agree to things on a regular basis?" Kurt asked, smirk back full-force as he climbed back on the bed, on Blaine, straddling him again. "Because that would be good information to have when our beds are in the same building."

Just as Blaine leaned forward to show his boyfriend just how impressive his sex appeal was, Kurt was scooting back and leaving him alone again.

"Nope. Play time is over. I'll call you tonight, okay?"

Before he could even process it, Kurt had kissed him one last time and was out the door. He heard him shout a goodbye to Laurel on his way out, and then the door slammed and once again, Blaine was left wondering how on earth this one human being had such a huge effect on him.

He sighed, flopping back on his bed and covering his eyes with his hands. He had so much to do to get ready to go to New York, and now on top of it, he had to deal with a party he didn't even want. Though, he supposed if it made Kurt happy, he could suffer through it. And if alcohol wasn't going to be involved in any way, maybe it wouldn't be all so bad. He'd get the chance to meet all of Kurt's friends that he heard so much about, and Kurt would get the opportunity to do the same with Blaine's own friends.

In all honesty, Blaine was actually getting excited for this party. He couldn't wait for his friends to meet Kurt; he was sure they'd love him, especially since he'd nearly talked Wes and David's ears off about him. He hadn't spoken with Trent, Nick, or Jeff quite as extensively, but they texted occasionally, enough to know who Kurt was, at least. They were all happy for him, happy to know that Blaine was in a healthy relationship and doing so much better this time around in comparison to the last time Blaine was in a relationship.

Okay, so maybe he was getting sort of stoked for this thing. Thursday couldn't come fast enough.

Laurel blew into his room and sat in his desk chair without so much as a courtesy knock on the open doorframe. "So what was that I heard about a party?"

Blaine sat up and narrowed his eyes at her. "Were you sitting outside my door listening to us?"

"Gross, Blaine. I don't want to hear all that."

He blushed, ducking his head, since there was actually stuff to hear now. They hadn't gotten anywhere near sex yet; hell, they hadn't even taken their shirts off yet. But their fully-clothed make-out sessions were more than enough to make Blaine's head spin for hours afterward. Kurt was a fantastic kisser, and getting better and better with practice, clearly gaining enough confidence to try new things, new things that Blaine always liked.

"Kurt told me about it on his way out," Laurel finished, pulling all her hair over one shoulder. "I almost didn't hear him, he was moving so quickly and talking even faster, but somehow I caught 'party' and figured that was his way of inviting me. So, care to fill me in on this party?"

"He's throwing a party on Thursday night as a kind of final hoorah before we all go off to college. He's inviting his friends from high school and he wants me to invite mine, and, apparently, you."

Laurel's eyes went wide and she gasped, "Are you implying that you would not have invited me yourself, dear cousin?" Before Blaine could answer, she continued. "I cannot believe my own cousin wouldn't invite me to his party! I'm so glad your boyfriend is so considerate, because you clearly have no manners."

"I didn't exactly have the best teachers," Blaine pointed out. "My manner role models literally kicked me out of the house."

Laurel threw him a look. "Not fair. You can't bring up your parents when we're discussing fun party plans."

"Fine, back to the party, then. Kurt is planning the whole thing, so I honestly don't know anything about it yet except for that it's going to be at his house on Thursday night, like I said."

"Will there be alcohol?" Laurel asked, spinning around in Blaine's desk chair trying to create an air of casual curiosity.

Kurt and Blaine both decided after that awful night at Scandals two weeks ago, they would leave the alcohol out of the story when it was told to Laurel. So when Kurt was giving Laurel the run down while Blaine lay in bed, he said that they'd run into Karofsky and Michael at the movies, rather than at a gay bar. It took some convincing, but they finally got Burt to agree to not alert Laurel either. It was decided by everyone that it would just be best not to include that part, especially after Blaine gave them all a very vague run-down of Laurel's history with alcohol from high school.

"No," Blaine replied. "Definitely not. I made sure to tell Kurt to tell his more…rebellious friend not to bring any. Besides, I'm sure Kurt's dad and stepmom will be staying for the party. Mrs. Hummel has been dying to meet you since Kurt and I started dating."

Laurel whipped her head up and stared at Blaine with excited eyes, spinning with more energy. "Really? That's so neat! I can't wait to meet her! She sounds lovely from what Kurt's told me."

"She is."

They sat in comfortable silence, Laurel continuing to twirl around and around, and Blaine hating himself for keeping so much from Laurel. She was the only real family he had left, and it killed him that even with her he kept things secret. But that was normal, right? Even kids who have good relationships with their parents, like Kurt and Burt, kept things private. Kurt never told his father about when Karofsky kissed him. That was a pretty big secret to keep. And he definitely wouldn't have said anything about seeing his former tormentor again if Blaine hadn't been there.

"So," Laurel began, breaking the quiet, "how are you and Kurt doing? I'm assuming good, since you mostly keep to yourselves. But I hardly ever see you anymore, you're always out with him or at his place, and even when you're here you two just come right in here."

Blaine smiled; he knew he looked goofy, but he couldn't help it. Whenever he got to talk about Kurt to someone, he got all giddy like a love-sick teenager—then again, that was exactly what he was, wasn't it? He was a love-sick teenager. What a clich�. "We're doing well…really well, actually."

"You're not getting tired of him yet?"

"Not at all. I can't get enough of him. Every time he leaves I just want him to turn around and come back."

"Freaks," Laurel muttered, still spinning. Blaine imagined she'd probably be getting tired right now, but it looked like she was using his laptop to spot, a trick she learned when she was in dance in high school. She laughed, continuing, "No, but really, I'm happy for you. He makes you better. A couple weeks ago, after you ran into Michael, and you got all…you know…again, it was nice seeing how quickly he could put you back together. It's like he's that missing piece you've been looking for. It's sweet."

"Yeah, it is." Blaine's smile only got bigger, and he blushed, looking down at his hands. "We, uh…we talk about the future."

Laurel stopped spinning and stared at him. "What do you mean, you talk about the future?"

"Finding an apartment together after our freshman year, getting married, having kids…"

Blaine chewed his bottom lip, looking up and catching Laurel's eyes. He was nervous, knowing how Laurel felt about Kurt towards the beginning of the summer. Recently she'd seemed to be better about it, but he wasn't sure how much that would withstand with him and Kurt talking so seriously after only knowing each other for a summer. It did seem sudden when Blaine thought about it, and rushed, but they had both decided that you can't help the way you feel, and if they felt this strongly about each other, there was a reason for it, and they weren't going to fight it.

"That's…nice," Laurel said at last, smiling softly. "Yeah. I know you expected me to grow claws and fangs and go after him like some crazy person, but that's good. I said at the very beginning that you needed to make sure he was as serious about you as you were about him, and if these conversations about the future are mutual obviously you two are on the same page. And it's good to talk about that kind of stuff when you enter a new relationship, rather than spend 5 years with a guy only to find out he doesn't believe in marriage or want kids, but you do. Then you've wasted 5 years with someone who wasn't right for you. So…yes. You seem happy, and Kurt seems happy, so I'm happy. As long as you're happy, that's all that matters."

As if on silent agreement, they both stood up and met in the middle to hug each other.

"Thank you," Blaine said into her hair.

"You're welcome. Besides," she pulled back and smirked at him, "just imagine the looks on your parents' faces when they get the wedding invitation for you and a boy. They're going to just shit bricks. It'll be priceless. Actually…could you warn me ahead of time when you're sending them out so I can stalk your parents' mailbox and make sure I've got some binoculars and I'm watching from the window? That would just be too great to miss."

One simple suggestion, mostly in jest, made Blaine feel like a knife had gone through his heart.

"Laurel, when Kurt and I get married, I'm not inviting my parents."

"But, Blaine—"

"But nothing!" He turned from her and faced his bed, running a hand through his hair. "They kicked me out, Laur. My dad put me in the hospital. They haven't tried to contact me in almost 4 years. They signed over papers saying I'm no longer their son. Why the fuck would I invite them?"

"Blaine," she tried again, placing a hand on his shoulder. He jerked away. "Maybe…Maybe they've changed, you know? Or maybe…maybe seeing that you're in love with someone, and you're getting married, maybe they'll want to see you again. Seeing you with Kurt might change their minds, even the tiniest bit—"

"They wouldn't see me with Kurt! They wouldn't see me at all!" He spun around, glaring at his cousin, before falling to sit on the edge of his bed. The anger rushed out of his body, leaving him with only the feeling of abandonment. "They would take one glance at the name on the return address and throw the envelope in the fireplace without even opening it. I'm nothing to them."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even mentioned them."

"No, but it's okay. I'm not mad, I'm just…can you go, please? I'm going to call Wes and David and invite them to Kurt's party, maybe send a text to Trent, Jeff and Nick."

Laurel stood in the middle of his room for a second, as if debating if she really wanted to leave him alone or not.

Blaine sighed. "I'll be fine. You can leave the door open; you can even sit right outside the door where you think I can't see you and eavesdrop on my phone conversations if you want. I'll pretend not to notice."

"Ha-ha. I don't eavesdrop…much."

She winked at him, but closed the door on the way out. He sent her a telepathic thank you for trusting him. Then, he picked up his phone and dialed David's number, holding it to his ear and standing up to find one of his suitcases that were at the back of his closet. If he was going to have to start packing, he might as well start now.

David picked up just as Blaine slipped on a shoe on his closet floor and started falling against all of his clothes.

"Hello?"

"Oof! Shit."

"Blaine?"

"Yeah," Blaine grunted, pushing himself up and kicking the stupid shoe out of the way. "I'm here. Just…crap, hold on a sec."

"But you called me."

"I know that! Just…okay. I'm fine now. Yes, hello."

"What were you doing?"

"Kurt's making me start packing so I was trying to get to one of the suitcases in the back of my closet and…yeah, I fell, I'm a clutz, what else is new? Anyway, I was calling you because—"

"Oh, Kurt is there? Tell him I say hello! HI, KURT!"

Blaine yanked the phone away from his ear when David shouted through the phone, trying to get Kurt to hear him.

"He's not here," Blaine informed him. "But thank you for causing me to go deaf in my right ear."

"You're welcome! I do what I can. Now, what is it you called me about?"

"Can't a guy just call his best friend to talk?"

"Not unless he lost his balls at the bottom of his purse while he was shopping at Forever 21 for a new pair of hot pink high heels to match his sequin dress."

"Nice, David."

"Just sayin'."

Blaine rolled his eyes, finally finding the suitcase and pulling it out with much more ease than actually locating it, throwing it open on his floor. He looked around his room, unsure of where to start, and spoke again.

"Anyway, I actually did call you for a reason. Kurt is throwing a party and wants me to invite my friends and he's inviting his friends and it'll be a joint party for us all to see each other one more time before we all go our separate ways, as he put it."

"So, basically, he wants to show you off to all his friends and he wants to meet all of yours."

"Basically. He told me to invite you and Wes, and Trent and Nick and Jeff."

"As luck would have it, I'm sitting on Wes right now."

Blaine pulled his phone away from his ear and made a face at it, wondering if he'd heard right. "I'm sorry, you're what?"

"I'm sitting on Wes right now. Say hi, Wes."

"Hi, Blaine!"

He had accepted long ago that he would never understand the antics of his two best friends, but this was just beyond weird, even for them.

"And when you say you're sitting on Wes, you mean—"

"Exactly that. He's at my house and we were going to watch Ironman 2—"

"Scarlett Johansson is so fucking hot!"

"—and I went to the kitchen to get us sodas and make us popcorn like the fabulous host I am, and when I came back, he was sprawled all across the couch. I told him to make room for me; he refused, so I sat on him. We've been like this the whole movie."

"And how far into it are you?"

"Around an hour, I'd say. Right, Wes?"

"More like an hour and 7 minutes, but I guess you were close enough—OW! Blaine, David threw his shoe at my head!"

"You deserved it, asshole. Hey, Blaine's boyfriend is having a party. You in?"

While Wes and David talked to each other, Blaine went over to his dresser and started taking out all of the clothes he wouldn't need until he was in New York.

"When is it, where is it, and will there be hot chicks?"

"I don't know, let me ask Blaine. Hey, Blaine! When's this party, and where's it gonna take place?"

"And will there be hot girls there, David! That's the most important part of my question!"

"This Thursday," Blaine replied, grimacing at some of his old clothes that hadn't seen the light of day in years; and for good reason, he thought to himself. "It'll be at Kurt's house, I'll give you guys directions later. And as for hot girls, I know there will be girls, I don't know how attractive you'll find them; I've never met any of them before, that's kind of the point of the party."

"Blaine says it's this Thursday at his honey bunches' house," David said, relaying the information to Wes. Blaine rolled his eyes at his friend referring to his boyfriend as his "honey bunches." "Also, he says that there will be girls there, but he's never met them so he doesn't know if we'll think they're hot or not."

"So there's a 50/50 chance? Good enough for me, I'm in."

"You're such a pig. Blaine, we're in."

"Good," Blaine said, trying to decide whether he might want to wear the shirt he was about to pack to Kurt's party or not. Might as well ask. "Hey, David, you know that horizontal-striped, red and black v-neck I have?"

"Nope, not a clue. Are you seriously asking me for fashion advice, man? I'm straight. Call Trent."

Blaine sighed. "Fine. You're good for absolutely nothing, you know that?"

"Yup. I've accepted that about myself. Hey, when are you leaving for New York again?"

"This Saturday."

"Shit, that's soon."

"Well, when are you and Wes going back to Stanford?"

"Not 'til next Tuesday. I guess that's just as soon, it just hasn't hit me yet that you're leaving this time too. Now who am I going to have to visit at Dalton?"

"Nick and Jeff?"

"I guess. Hey, speaking of Trent, do you know where he's going?"

"I think he's going to the Art Institute of Ohio in Cincinnati for fashion design. His parents didn't want him going out of state."

"Sucks for him. Okay, Wes is throwing popcorn at me begging me to start the movie again, so I'm gonna go. I'll see you Thursday?"

"Yeah. See you later."

"Bye, Blaine!"

"Bye, Wes!"

He hung up, deciding that he might wear the v-neck on Thursday after all, and throwing it on his bed. It was a good idea to call Trent; he was gay and going into fashion design. He could call Kurt, too, but then Kurt would know what he was wearing and he kind of wanted to surprise him. Then again, Kurt would probably demand to stamp his seal of approval on Blaine's outfit for the party, so maybe he should just call his boyfriend.

After a few minutes of internal debating, Blaine decided to just leave the v-neck out and worry about it later and focus his mind back on packing. Since Laurel wasn't going anywhere, she encouraged him to leave the little things he wouldn't leave in New York, that way he would still feel like he had a space and a home with her, too. He was grateful for that, not only because Laurel still wanted him to feel at home with her, but because it meant less packing.

He emptied out the bottom drawer, frowning when he saw a square frame face-down at the bottom. He dropped the clothes in his suitcase and went back over to the drawer, picking up the picture frame and turning it over. Immediately, he wished he hadn't; there was a reason he buried it at the bottom of his bottom drawer. It was a picture of him and his parents, one of their annual family portraits that his mother paid thousands of dollars to set up and take for them, all dressed in fancy clothes that his parents wore every day but Blaine avoided at all costs. If Blaine thought it hurt to think about them, it hurt even worse to see their faces smiling at him—fake smiles, of course, but in that house those were the only smiles he knew.

Tears prickled his eyes and he tried with every fiber of his being to keep them at bay. No way was he wasting any more heart ache on his parents. He didn't need them. He had Laurel, and Wes and David, and Burt, and even Finn and Carole.

Most importantly, he had Kurt. And at the end of the day, that was all he needed.

…

August 23, 2012

"Blaine! Kurt's—"

Before Laurel even had time to finish announcing Kurt's presence, Kurt was bursting through the door of Blaine's room.

"—here," she finished, showing up behind him in the entryway.

Blaine laughed and turned to face his boyfriend and cousin from the closet. "Thanks, Laur."

"Yes, thank you, Laurel," Kurt added, staring at Blaine like he was seeing him for the first time.

"What?" he asked. "I've been trying on different things, I wasn't sure what you wanted me to wear, if you don't want me to wear this one, we may have to crack open all the clothes I packed."

Laurel coughed. "You might not want to wear that particular outfit, Blainers."

"Why not?"

"It's not a pool party. At least, I didn't think it was. Kurt, do you have a pool in your backyard?"

"No," Kurt replied softly, still eyeing Blaine.

Blaine finally had the sense to look down, and promptly realized that he didn't have a shirt on. He'd been looking for that v-neck he set aside on Monday—he had no idea where it ended up after all of his packing—and had completely forgotten to put on a new shirt in the meantime. He wasn't one for getting cold very easily, so it wasn't like he noticed the change in temperature between wearing a shirt and not wearing one.

Ah. Now Kurt's gaping made sense.

"Sorry," Blaine said, grabbing the shirt he'd most recently tossed on the floor and slipping it on. "I've been trying on different things; I wasn't sure what you wanted me to wear tonight." He crossed the room and gave Kurt a quick kiss on the lips, stepping back so Kurt could critique what Blaine was wearing. Kurt, though, it seemed was still hung up on what Blaine was previously not wearing. "What is up with you? You've seen me in my boxers, Kurt."

"And on that note," Laurel piped up, "I'm going to leave you two alone, because that was far more than I actually wanted to hear."

With Laurel gone, Blaine pulled Kurt further into his room and closed the door.

He supposed that in some way, he was expecting—hoping, rather—that Kurt might be unable to control himself and attack Blaine, pinning him to the bed and have his way with him.

Instead, Kurt seemed to come back to himself and walked over to Blaine's closet, looking through the few shirts Blaine hadn't packed, taking one off of its hanger and tossing it to him.

"Try this one, the one you're wearing clashes with your skin tone."

"There was a v-neck I wanted your opinion on," Blaine said, pulling off the t-shirt to slip on the dark blue button-up Kurt threw at him. "I can't remember where I put it, though."

"I bet I know where." Kurt headed towards Blaine's bed and ripped the crumpled up, twisted comforter off the mattress and shook it out.

A piece of red and black fabric fell to the floor.

"You found it!"

"Blaine, it's been in your bed for days. It's wrinkled. You've slept with your feet probably tangled in it. You cannot wear that tonight."

"But it looks good on me, I swear!"

"Arguing is pointless, Blaine, you know that when it comes to clothes I win every time. That shirt is perfect; it makes your curls look amazing and makes your eyes pop. Now put on some shoes and let's go, we're already running behind."

Blaine turned his head around to check his clock and frown. "The party doesn't start for another 2 hours, Kurt. That's plenty of time for us to get back to your house and finish setting up, although I'm sure you've probably already done all that needs to get done."

"Yes, but unfortunately I live in the same house with Finn, and all the party food I bought on Monday when I left your house has now been devoured, so we need to grocery shop on our way back to my place."

"Fine. Will you go in my top drawer and get a pair of socks for me?" Blaine asked, gesturing to his dresser and sitting on the edge of his bed, picking up his favourite pair of shoes from the floor.

Kurt did as he was asked, but paused when he rolled open the drawer. "Blaine, did you really just direct me to your underwear drawer? Is this your idea of seducing me so you don't have to come to the party? Because you told me last night on the phone that all of your friends were excited to come, and you were excited for them to meet me."

Blaine rolled his eyes, standing up and wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist from behind. "Is seducing you a viable option?"

"No," Kurt said firmly, stepping out of Blaine's grasp. "Now put on your shoes. We have soy chips and organic cookies to buy."

…

Blaine groaned, pushing the basket as Kurt walked in front of him, checking things off the list.

"Kurt, are we done yet? My feet hurt."

"We haven't even gotten to the party yet. Quit being a baby."

"I'm not being a baby. I just wish you'd hurry up. There are only so many brands of healthy junk food you can buy."

"Hush, you. I'm trying to concentrate."

He leaned his arms on the handle of the grocery cart and pouted. They'd been there for 45 minutes; if they didn't hurry up, they'd be late for their own party, something Blaine was sure Kurt would not find acceptable. Yet, here they still were, going up and down every single aisle. Blaine was about ready to shoot himself in the foot. Although, he had to admit, it was pretty nice grocery shopping with his boyfriend. It was…domestic; it was something he could see them doing in a year or two when they had their own place and were buying groceries to fill their fridge and pantry.

"Okay, yes. We've gotten everything. We can go."

"Finally."

Just as they were exiting the aisle, a little blur ran straight into Kurt's legs, and promptly fell on the floor. Now motionless, Blaine could see it was a little boy with black curls. Kurt kneeled low on the ground and picked the little boy up, hoisting him on his hip.

"Hey, there, big guy. You should really watch where you're going," he said.

Seeing Kurt holding a toddler in his arms while they were grocery shopping just added to the image he'd been conjuring up in his head, but he had to shake his thoughts and focus on the present.

"Who the hell lets a toddler wander around a grocery store alone?" Blaine asked.

Kurt shrugged and looked at the boy. "How old are you?"

The boy lifted the hand that didn't have his thumb in his mouth and presented them with three fingers.

"Three years old?" The boy nodded. "You're a little young to be by yourself, don't you think? What's your name?"

"Alexander. But Momma says Alex," he answered, the words muffled by his thumb.

Kurt smiled. "Alex. That's a nice name. Where is your Momma?"

Alex sighed, resting his head on Kurt's shoulder. "Momma and Daddy yelled again. I don't like it when they yell."

Blaine and Kurt shared a sympathetic glance. "Let's find your parents, okay? I'm sure they're done yelling now."

Kurt slowed his pace to walk beside Blaine at the head of the grocery cart as they searched the store for Alex's parents. Every so often, Kurt would look at Alex, then back at Blaine, then back at Alex. It was strange, so Blaine said, "Why do you keep doing that?"

"He looks just like you."

Just as Kurt was finishing his sentence, Alex started squirming in his arms, shouting, "Momma! Daddy!" Kurt set him down and watched as Alex ran over to a couple dressed far too nicely for a simple grocery store.

Blaine wrapped an arm around Kurt's waist. He was so busy watching the little boy run, hoping he wouldn't trip, that he didn't even notice who the kid was running to. When Alex got close enough, though, it was hard to miss.

Blaine's heart stopped. It felt like someone punched him in the gut, and he gasped.

Kurt looked over in alarm. "What?"

Simultaneously ignoring Kurt's question and answering it, Blaine stared at the couple in disbelief.

"Mom? Dad?"