During the entire time he was out, Kurt was apprehensive. He had left a strange guy he barely knew alone at his apartment. By the time he got back, his place could have been completely emptied.

But it hadn't been. Everything looked exactly the same as it had when he left that morning. Kurt sighed in relief, feeling a bit evil for thinking Blaine would do something like that.

And then he noticed exactly what was missing.

Blaine.

The apartment was silently deserted. Both the living room and the kitchen felt just as empty as all the other nights Kurt had come home to find nothing but lonliness waiting for him.

"Blaine?" He called his name forlornly anyway and, oh gosh, why did his voice have to crack like that? Why did he even care?

It hit him suddenly. Maybe Blaine was homeless because he didn't have a place to live, but Kurt was just as homeless, in his own way, because he had a beautiful house but no one to come home to.

Kurt had to stop for a moment and just breathe. After a couple bad break ups in college, Kurt had decided that the pain of relationships weren't worth it, so he had settled for one night stands that meant nothing. He had a few phone numbers he could call whenever he needed company. There were lots of guys who loved hanging out with him because he appeared in magazines and could take them to expensive restaurants. Guys who called him beautiful and gorgeous and all the other synonyms on the dictionary, because they thought he wanted to hear them say it.

And somehow, Kurt had convinced himself that was exactly what he wanted, what he needed.

He walked down the hall towards the guest room to see if Blaine had least left him a note, an explanation, anything. He was certainly not expecting to find the man cocooned into the bed sleeping peacefully.

Kurt gasped in surprise when he saw him. He looked so different from the way he had looked the night before. Maybe it was getting enough rest on a decent bed and some warm food in a clearly hollow stomach. Maybe it was knowing that for now (even if 'now' would end too soon) he had nothing to worry about.

He didn't really want to wake him up. It was obvious Blaine needed more sleep. He went back to the kitchen, rolled the sleeves of his Armani shirt up and started making sandwiches. He didn't feel like making a production out of cooking tonight. He just wanted to unwind by watching some pointless television and then go to bed.

He put two of the sandwiches on a plate, and covered them with some wrap, then grabbed an extra bottle of water from the fridge. He went back to Blaine's… no, to the guest roomand stepped into it softly, making sure he didn't disturb the sleeping man. He was probably going to be starving when he woke up, so Kurt put the plate and the bottle on the night-stand and then closed the door behind him carefully.

As he stood in the empty hallway for an instant, he realized he honestly had no idea what he was doing.

He must have passed out at some point between the end of America's Next Top Model and the beginning of Project Runway. But it wasn't the bright glow coming from the television that woke Kurt up. It was the light touch of a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently.

"Kurt?"

Kurt's eyes snapped open. Blaine was leaning over him, biting his lip nervously.

"Hi," he said quietly, smiling a bit. "Sorry I woke you up, but you didn't look very comfortable. Maybe you should just go to bed."

Kurt sat up slowly, blinking blankly, still half asleep. Blaine took a step back cautiously to give him more space. "What time is it? What are you doing up?"

"It's around one in the morning, I think," Blaine answered. "I woke up a while ago. Thanks for the sandwiches and the water. I just thought I'd bring the plate to the kitchen so I wouldn't break anything else and I saw you all scrunched up here."

"Thanks," Kurt rolled his head in circles to try and get rid of the twinge in his neck. "Everytime I fall asleep here I wake up with awful spams in my back."

"No problem," Blaine smiled at him, glad he'd saved Kurt from a backache.

There were a few seconds of silence before Kurt spoke again. "Were you bored alone here all day?"

"Oh, no, it was fine," Blaine made a gesture with his hand to dismiss Kurt's concern. "I actually read for a bit. I hope you don't mind. You have a great collection of books."

"Oh, no, I don't mind at all!" Kurt smilled, too. "I'm glad you found something you liked. But why did you go to bed so early? You had to be bored at some point."

"No, really," Blaine assured him. "I was just very tired. I don't tend to sleep very deeply and after a while, it gets exhausting."

Kurt thought about how horrible it had to be for Blaine to sleep in the streets in a city like New York, where anything could happen. He was out in all weather and constantly having to worry about his safety.

His heart ached a bit at the thought.

"Would you like to watch some TV with me?" Kurt casually invited his guest to join him.

"I thought you were going to bed?" Blaine replied, confused.

"I'm not sleepy anymore," Kurt shrugged with a quirk of his mouth. Blaine sat next to him on the couch after just a brief moment of hesitation.

If Kurt had to be completely honest, it was even having someone to watch his silly reality shows with was nice.

When Kurt woke again, a few hours later, he knew he was still on the couch, even before he opened his eyes. He could still hear the soft background murmur of the television and behind his closed lids, he could feel the morning light, brighter than in his bedroom.

Those were the first thing he noticed. The next thing he noticed made him snap his eyes open in disbelief.

The warmth against his forehead wasn't from the throw pillows. It was scratchy stubble. His hand wasn't resting on the cold white leather couch. It was resting on something warm and solid that moved up and down very, very slowly…

He was tangled up with Blaine. He had his face tucked into the crook of his neck, his hand on his stomach and his legs had somehow intertwined with his.

"Oh shit," he mumbled and in his rush to get up, he ended up tripping over Blaine's feet and falling to the floor, barely avoiding bashing his head against the edge of the coffee table.

Blaine woke up startled, and jumped off the couch before he even had time to realize what was going on. He'd had lots of experience with being waken up brusquely (mostly by the security guards at parks or train stations telling him to find somewhere else to sleep) and he wasn't exactly a fan of it.

But then he noticed Kurt lying on the floor and hurried to help him up. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Kurt mumbled, still half asleep, taking the hand Blaine was offering him. "I'm fine. Just my pride got dented."

"I'm so sorry. Was it my fault?" Blaine asked, concerned.

"No, I…" Kurt cleared his throat. "We, uhm, we fell asleep together, apparently."

"Oh!" Blaine pulled his hand away from Kurt's, like he'd been burnt.

"Yeah, well…" Kurt didn't know why he felt so uncomfortable. It's not like it was the first time he had fallen asleep next to someone while watching TV…

Blaine closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I should… I should go."

"Blaine, I told you already. There's no need for you to make breakfast or anything else for me…" Kurt tried to smile warmly.

Blinking in confusion, Blaine shook his head. "No. I mean… I should go. Leave. Your apartment. Like I said I would."

Kurt wasn't expecting his heart to clench inside his chest. He suddenly found himself reaching out and grabbing Blaine's wrist, craddling it between his hands. He didn't notice his thumb tracing circles on the sensitive skin there. "Do you really want to leave, Blaine?"

Blaine seemed taken aback by the question. He frowned even more. "What do you mean?"

"You seem like you're constantly thinking about leaving here," Kurt shrugged and let go of his wrist, and sat on the armrest of the couch. He looked up at Blaine with bright, blue eyes.

"That's because I don't want to impose on your kindness," Blaine answered, still not quite understanding where Kurt was going with all of that. "I can't stay here forever…"

"But you could stay a bit longer," Kurt said earnestly.

"Why would you want me to stay?" There was a hint of something wary in Blaine's voice. Maybe distrust.

"I don't know," Kurt averted his gaze, and fixed it on the floor in front of him. He couldn't just tell him he liked coming home to a stranger because it was tons better than coming home to silence and loneliness. It would sound so pathetic… "Just… it's so cold outside, Blaine. And you may not even get into the shelter. Why don't you stay a few more days?"

Something darkened in Blaine's eyes for an instant. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. "Kurt… I'm not going to be your charity project, okay? So if you're doing this because…"

"No!" Kurt exclaimed, horrified. "Oh my god, Blaine. No. Please, don't think that…"

"I'm just having a hard time trying to understand why you're so keen to help when everyone else has just turned their backs on me," Blaine ran a hand through his hair.

Kurt took his time to find an answer and even when he finally replied, he didn't feel he was being entirely truthful. "Because I'm not 'everyone else'."

Blaine didn't seem satisfied with it either. He even deflated a bit, as if deep down inside he had been hoping for Kurt to say something else. He sighed, tiredly. "Coffee and toast, right?"

"You don't have to…"

"I've got it," Blaine headed towards the kitchen, but before he left the living room, he looked back at Kurt over his shoulder with his hazel eyes the brightest Kurt had ever seen them. "Thank you, Kurt."

Kurt was only able to nod. His thoughts were too dizzying to do anything else.

Kurt told Blaine to do whatever he wanted, when he left that morning for his two hour casting meeting. He went straight back to the apartment afterward, wondering if he'd had eaten anything yet. Maybe they would make something nice for lunch together, if wasn't busy reading or something.

But he hadn't expected him to finding him doing this.

He was still wearing Finn's gigantic clothes (Kurt really needed to find him something different to wear), but the hoodie's sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. There was some music playing in the background from the TV, featuring some unknown artist from the 80s wearing far too much turquoise spandex, in Kurt's opinion. But Blaine wasn't watching the TV (although he was, Kurt noticed, shaking his ass to the beat in a little dance. It was quite a nice view). He was on his knees on the floor, with a bucket full of soapy water next to him, cleaning the floor like some sort of bearded, modern Cinderella.

Kurt closed the door behind him making Blaine look up.

"Oh, hi!" Blaine said, smiling widely.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked with his eyebrows arched all the way up to his hairline.

Blaine stood up (Kurt was not lamenting that it meant the end of the wonderful sight of his ass in the air. He was not). He suddenly looked unsure and nervous and Kurt wished he had been a little gentler with the tone of his question.

"Uhm. I-I thought I would do something for you, since you're being so nice and letting me stay longer, so I-I just… I decided I would clean the apartment a bit… not that I think it's dirty, or anything like that!" He added, his expression turning even more terrified and wide-eyed. "Not at all! I couldn't figure out how to turn on your vacuum, so… I…" he let his arms fall helplessly at his sides, looking throughly defeated. He sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Blaine…" Kurt smiled, walking to him. "Why would you be sorry? It's really nice of you to think of it. But… you don't have to do any of that. I have a lady that comes in to clean when I need her."

"Oh," Blaine had never felt as dumb as he felt right then. Of course Kurt would have a cleaning lady. He swallowed and dropped the sponge back in the bucket, his jaw tense.

Kurt tilted his head to the side. "Are you okay?"

"Just perfect," Blaine answered tersely, as he carried the bucket back to the laundry room adjacent to the kitchen. He threw the water in the sink and put the bucket and sponge back where he had found them.

"No, you're not," Kurt murmured from the doorway, as he studied him carefully. "You're upset. Why are you upset?"

"I just…" Blaine leaned against the washing machine, clearly frustrated. "I feel so useless. You let me sleep here and you feed me and there's nothing I can do to pay you back! For most of the time you were gone, I just sat there staring out the window thinking about it. There has to be something I can do, Kurt." Blaine took a few steps towards him, looking at him eagerly. "Please."

"You know that I don't want you to pay me back in any way, right?" Kurt said and, for some reason, his hands twitched with the need to reach out and cup Blaine's face.

"That's what makes me feel like I'm a charity case," Blaine confessed sadly. "I don't want to be that."

"What do you want, Blaine?" Kurt asked, intrigued.

The words were hard to let out, but when Blaine finally said them, he sounded so miserable that it was hard for Kurt not to pull him into a hug. "I just want some dignity back."

Kurt settled for putting a hand on his arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Okay. We'll figure something out."

Blaine didn't seem convinced. Kurt hadn't taken his coat off yet and an idea popped in his head.

"Would you like to go out for a walk?" He offered, enthusiastically. "You've been stuck in here since the night we met. You need some fresh air."

"I…" Blaine looked down at his feet. He didn't want Kurt to force himself to go out for a walk with him. People would stare at them and if some of them recognized Kurt, it would embarrass him.

Kurt seemed to have read his mind. He started tugging him out of the laundry room. "Come on! I need some air, too. And we can talk about finding something useful for you to do. But first, we'll have to find you some more suitable clothes and shoes."

"Kurt…" Blaine tried to protest.

"Blaine," Kurt stood his ground in the middle of the hallway. "We can stay here if you prefer and maybe watch a movie or whatever. But I really think you need to get out of here with me. You might be surprised with the ideas we come up with…"

Kurt seemed to actually be pouting slightly and Blaine's stomach twisted at the sight. It was the most endearing thing he'd seen in a while. He sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to resist him. "Fine, then."

Kurt's smile was brighter than ever. "Great! Now let's go find you something better to wear…"

Kurt's bedroom was huge, at least twice as big as the guest room where Blaine was staying. It had its own balcony, an en-suite bathroom and a walk in closet almost as big as the room itself. Blaine couldn't stop looking around in fascination at the tasteful decorating tones of grey and blue. The bed was enormous and had so many pillows on it that Blaine couldn't imagine having to move them all every night to go to sleep. It had to take several minutes…

Kurt had already disappeared into his closet, murmuring to himself as he went through everything he had in there. Blaine approached him shyly, not sure if he was allowed any farther into the room. It was, after all, Kurt's bedroom, the most private part of the house…

Blaine was speechless as soon as he caught a better sight of Kurt's wardrobe. It was huge. Blaine hadn't seen that many clothes in a single place in his whole life, except maybe in a store. He could see designer labels hanging from sleeves of some clothes Kurt had never worn yet and piles upon piles of shoe boxes.

"Wow," Blaine let out his murmur of astonishment without even realizing it.

Kurt smiled up at him from where he was going through some of the boxes. "Yeah, well. I guess some might think this is kind of excessive, but fashion is one of my biggest passions." Kurt found a pair of sneakers that looked as if they had never been taken out of the box. "I think these should fit you. And… those black pants over there are a bit short on me, so they'll be the perfect length for you." He stood up to retrieve the pants and then sorted through a collection of sweaters neatly folded on a shelf. He chose a red one with a turtle neck. "And this is perfect." He added a white cotton t-shirt to the pile and handed it to Blaine. "Try them on and let me see how they look on you!"

Blaine stared down at the clothes. They were so nice. He'd had nothing to wear but his ratty jeans and worn coat for such a long time… getting to wear Kurt's stuff felt unacceptably weird. Even the simple white t-shirt had a Lacoste label. It had to cost more money than Blaine'd had touched in a year…

"Is there something wrong?" Kurt asked with a frown as he started going through his coats to find one for Blaine.

"I can't wear these, Kurt…" Blaine said helplessly. "They're yours. And they're much too nice…"

"But they'll look great on you," Kurt interrupted him with a warm smile. "And unless you want to go out naked or in that stuff from Finn that you'll trip over, you'd better put them on."

Blaine swallowed, knowing Kurt wouldn't take no for an answer. He sighed. "Can I at least take a shower before putting them on?"

He felt so unworthy. In that moment, Blaine could almost feel the filth of New York City creeping back under his fingernals, into his hair and his skin.

"Sure, if you want," Kurt shrugged.

Blaine practically ran back to the guest room, clutching the clothes carefuly, as if they were made of gold.

Kurt sat on the floor of his beautiful closet and hoped he wasn't making Blaine feel even worse with his attempts to help him.

"Oh my gosh, you look fantastic!"

Blaine blushed all the way to the tips of his ears as Kurt clapped in enthusiasm when they met again the living room fifteen minutes later. The clothes fit him perfectly. The sneakers were maybe one size bigger than his feet, but they were still the most comfortably thing he had worn in a while. They even matched. And it still felt weird.

"I don't know, Kurt…" he muttered, hesitant.

"You just need a haircut and a good shave and then every lady in New York will fall at your feet," Kurt said with a smile.

Blaine tugged a bit at the sweater, awkwardly.

"Okay, now…" Kurt help a black peacoat in the air, encouragingly. "Try this on…"

Blaine bit his lip and slid into it. It was warm and it smelled so nice… like Kurt.

Kurt threw a scarf around his neck to complete the ensemble and started fixing it the way he thought it should go. Blaine's eyes went a little wide with his proximity and held his breath, hoping Kurt couldn't hear the race of his heartbeat.

Blaine was grateful for the rush of cold air that hit his face when they stepped out of the building a few minutes later. The familiar sounds of New York City filled his ears instantly. He took a deep breath and tried to enjoy being out with Kurt.

They started walking side by side, both with their hands buried in their pockets. They didn't talk at first, lost as they were in their own thoughts. When they reached the park, Kurt walked straight towards a bench, brushed the snow off and sat down. Blaine followed his lead and sat beside him.

The silence extended for a few more minutes, but finally Kurt broke it. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

Blaine nodded. His eyes were fixed on another bench, not too far away, tucked right under a tree. He remembered spending almost an entire month sleeping there every night, when the weather was warmer…

"What happened to you?" Kurt asked. His voice was deep and a bit surprised, as if he couldn't understand how someone's life could get as derailed as Blaine's had.

Blaine' lips curled up, bitterly, in what could've been taken for a smile. "That's a really big questions with lots of smaller questions that need to be explained, too."

"You don't have to answer me," Kurt hurried to say, shaking his head as if he was regretting asking it. "I just… I don't understand."

"Sometimes I don't understand, either," Blaine sighed and took his eyes off the bench, lifting them up to the sky, clear and cloudless. "And I don't want to make you uncomfortable…"

"I wouldn't judge you," Kurt muttered. "But it's up to you. I just feel like talking would help you."

Blaine really doubted it, but he knew he owed Kurt some sort of explanation. And for such a long time, he hadn't had anyone to talk to. He had lost everything. "I've always been sort of a solitary kid. I didn't have any friends at school and I was bullied a lot. I was really looking forward to graduating and escaping from all of that. But then I made the mistake of coming out to my father the same night I finished high school."

Kurt actually choked when he heard Blaine's bitter words. "Wait, you… you're gay?"

Blaine's expression became more guarded, almost scared, even. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No, not at all," Kurt's eyes were maybe a little wide, but he didn't know why. "I mean… I'm gay, too. I just… didn't think you were."

"Oh," Blaine's eyes went wide, too. He stuttered, looking for words for a moment, not even knowing what to say.

"I'm sorry I interrupted," Kurt said. "Please, continue."

Blaine nodded, but it took a few minutes for him to remember where he had left off. "Anyway… my dad wasn't very pleased about having a gay son. He was already disappointed in me in so many ways and this was just too much for him to take. So he, uhm, he beat me up…"

Kurt unconsciously reached out for Blaine's hand and grabbed it in his gloved one, as he gasped in surprised. "Blaine…"

"He was more furious than I've ever seen him in my life," Blaine continued, pushing through it because it was so hard to even think about it, much less describe it to Kurt. Somehow, though, Kurt's hand in his gave him courage. "I thought he'd never stop. I though he was going to kill me. I've always been sort of a small guy, so it's not like I could fight him off. When he turned around towards the chimney, I was sure he was going to grab the fire poker…"

"Oh my god," Kurt covered his mouth with his free hand and scooted closer to Blaine without giving it a thought.

"So… I ran out," Blaine closed his eyes and Kurt knew he was thinking about that night, that he was seeing it clearly again, in his head. "I ran out of my house and I never looked back. I had some money in my wallet, but that was all I had. I used it to get on a bus to get as far away from him as I could and come to New York. I was convinced he was going to try and find me and… I couldn't have that."

"Where are you really from?" Kurt asked in a soft voice.

"Ohio," Blaine answered him woodenly, glancing at him. He saw the surprise in Kurt's gaze. "What?"

"I'm from Ohio, too," a tiny smile appeared on his lips. Blaine smiled a bit, too, but as in all the other smiles that Kurt had seen on his face, it didn't reach his eyes. "What happened when you got here?"

"Well, I had no money, no job experience, no references, no place to stay…" Blaine leaned against the back of the bench and exhaled, tiredly. "And the worst part was that what my father did left me so depressed that I barely had the energy to try to survive somehow." He shook his head, as if he was disappointed. "I couldn't get a job. No one wanted to hire a homeless kid. My depression was deepening and some days I would just lie on the grass at some park and do nothing for days at a time. It was like I was just waiting for my story to end…" He shrugged, as if it didn't matter, but it was obvious it did matter to him a lot. "By the time I convinced myself that I was just finishing what my father started, it was already too late. I had been on the streets for almost a year and become what I am now: a person everyone avoids at all costs."

Kurt didn't realize he was crying until Blaine turned back to him and, with a frown, reached to wipe his tears away gently. "I'm so sorry all of this happened to you…"

"Hey, you don't have to cry for me…" Blaine's fingers were warm against Kurt's cold cheeks and he couldn't help but lean into the touch a little bit. "I didn't mean to make you sad."

"I can't help it," Kurt said as a few more tears trailed down straight to Blaine's finger. "I wish I'd found you sooner…"

"You can't save me, Kurt," Blaine muttered with a sad smile.

Kurt squeezed his hand. "I can at least try."