Kurt's tears soaked through the collar of Blaine's polo, wrapped in each other's arms, with Blaine's hands pressed firmly into the small of Kurt's back.

"I feel so bad," Kurt whispered.

Blaine pulled away only enough to look him in the eyes. "Why? You should be happy!"

"I am, about the job," Kurt nodded as he wiped his tears quickly. "But the way I treated you..."

"You were scared," Blaine replied, brushing a strand of Kurt's hair off his forehead. "I get that life hasn't been very easy for you, and that you didn't want to risk getting hurt again."

"I was still unfair to you. I'm so sorry, Blaine, I can't say it enough..." He bit his lip and blushed. "Thank you for the flowers, by the way. They were beautiful."

Blaine beamed. "I'm glad you liked them."

"I did."

They stared at each other, hardly believing they were back in the other's arms again. The look of happiness on Kurt's face made Blaine's heart flutter as he looked at him adoringly. All he wanted was to make Kurt happy... and he'd apparently succeeded.

"Are you two going to stay out there all night or are you going to join us for dinner?" A gruff voice said, and they both turned to find Burt standing at the door.

Kurt smiled at his father, making the older man raise his eyebrows in surprise at the sudden change in Kurt's mood. "I think we're joining you for dinner. Right, Blaine?" His eyes turned to him hopefully as he waited for Blaine's answer.

Blaine's hand travelled down Kurt's arm until it found his hand, to twine their fingers together. "I'd love to."

Kurt sighed in relief, and pulled him into the house.

*

Dinner was filled with light conversation, which Kurt and Blaine didn't really participate in. They were too busy gazing at each other, having a silent conversation of their own, and finding every excuse possible to touch each other, as if they needed to make sure the man next to them was real.

It wasn't until they were having dessert that Kurt cleared his throat. Everyone went immediately silent, as if they had been waiting for him to say something. Blaine squeezed his hand under the table.

"I don't really know how to say this... except to just say it," he started, looking around the table nervously. "But I'm moving back to New York in a couple of weeks. I got an internship offer from Vogue..."

Before he could finish, the entire family erupted in cheers and screams of excitement. Kurt laughed and cried at the same time as Burt jumped from his seat and pulled him into a bone-crashing hug.

"Kurt, honey, how did this happen?" Carole asked, biting back tears of happiness. "You didn't tell us you were thinking of going back to the city!"

"Actually," Kurt said from against his father's shoulder. He pulled away from his arms slightly so he could look at the others as well. "I didn't do anything," his eyes found Blaine's, so warm, full of gratitude. "It was all because of Blaine."

Those words were enough for Burt to let go of his son, and two seconds later, Blaine found himself being pulled abruptly into a hug just as tight as the one he'd shared with Kurt. Blaine was surprised and only managed to pat the man on the back while Burt squeezed him.

"Thank you," Burt murmured softly, for only Blaine to hear, in a hoarse voice. "Thank you for saving my boy."

"Well, come and tell us all the details!" Carly said, eagerly.

"Wait, wait, I have a bottle of champagne in the kitchen, let me get it!" Carole exclaimed.

Kurt laughed as he grabbed Blaine's arm and tugged him against his side, snuggling against him. "All this fuss isn't necessary."

"Like hell it isn't," Burt asserted, his eyes shiny with emotion, with a huge smile. "We need to celebrate. Go get it, Carole."

As everyone else got back to their seats, Blaine placed a kiss on Kurt's temple. "Let them celebrate. They're happy for you."

Kurt's smile turned a little wicked. "I have another kind of celebration in mind. Stay at my place tonight?" He practically purred the invitation into Blaine's ear.

Blaine simply nodded, as he tried not to imagine the different ways that Kurt might show his gratitude, considering they were with Kurt's family. This was neither the time nor the place for a hard on.

*

A hand on his shoulder stopped Blaine from getting into his car to follow Kurt to his house. He turned and found Burt standing there, looking somber.

"I didn't want to bring it up in front of Kurt, but..." He eyed Blaine quietly. "You have a minute?"

"Of course," Blaine nodded, and pushed his car door closed, all of his attention focused on the older man.

Burt removed his cap and ran a hand down his bald head, looking down at his feet. He sighed before he looked back up at Blaine. "Well, I noticed Kurt didn't mention you were going with him..."

Blaine could feel himself getting cold, as if his heart was turning into ice. "Yeah, that's probably because I'm not."

"So you did all of this for him, even though you can't go along?" Burt seemed a little incredulous. Blaine had to remind himself that he was talking to a man who had seen his son repeatedly mistreated. "Because if you think you two can manage to keep a relationship going with occasional visits... Blaine, he won't come back. He can't come back."

Blaine did his best to swallow the bitter taste in his mouth. "I know that. And I hope he doesn't come back, because he doesn't belong here. This place has nothing to offer him..."

"But..." Burt seemed confused.

"When you love someone the way I love your son, Mr. Hummel," Blaine murmured softly, "his happiness is the only thing that really matters."

Burt inhaled sharply, clearly not expecting Blaine's simple sincerity, reflected in his hazel eyes. He cleared his throat and once again put his heavy hand on Blaine's shoulder. "I have no idea what you and Kurt will decide to do. I don't know if these are the last days you two might have to be together. I don't know much, buddy, and I admit that. But I can tell you this much: I hope that you and Kurt can find a way to make this thing work, because no one's ever made Kurt as happy as you've made him. No one's ever cared for him like you do, and mostly, I never thought I'd ever meet a guy who I would consider worthy of my son. But you are perfect for him, Blaine, and I hope neither of you lets go, at least not without a fight."

"Mr. Hummel..." Blaine croaked, feeling his chest tighten with overwhelming emotions.

"Don't keep him waiting any more, buddy," he patted him on the back as he turned to go back into the house. "Make the most of the time you have left."

Blaine watched him walk up the driveway, hand tightly gripping the door handle behind him. What Burt had just said meant the world to him, but hearing that now, when things were about to end... was devastating. Because Blaine was convinced that he and Kurt were made to be together, but that didn't matter, not anymore. Kurt's dreams needed a bigger stage than Lima.

*

His arms were wrapped tightly around Kurt's neck, the sweaty skin of their chests sliding together with every movement. Blaine's thighs were burning slightly, a delicious heat spreading through his muscles. Their soft moans echoed against the walls, and their eyes were locked together, hazel fire melting icy blue.

Blaine pushed himself up, and then back down to fuck himself onto Kurt's cock, whimpering at how deliciously it filled him, how good the stretch felt. Kurt's hands were gripping his waist, back leaning against the headboard, thrusting up very slowly to meet him, into Blaine's sweet, slick heat.

"God, I love this," Kurt groaned, fingers digging into Blaine's flesh.

"That's because you don't have to do all the work," Blaine bit his lower lip, already red and swollen from all the other times he'd done the same.

"I don't mind doing all the work," Kurt replied, thrusting up sharply as if to prove his point. "I just really like watching you ride me."

Blaine moaned. "Oh god, Kurt..."

Words were left behind as they both sped up, hurtling towards their release. Blaine's legs were screaming at him in protest. He was sure he'd be able to feel the after-effects for days, but he didn't care. He loved this.

It didn't take much for their orgasms to shake them to their core. Blaine's cock remained untouched between their bodies, his come painting their chests and stomachs. He could feel Kurt pulsing deep inside him. Every twitch sunk him even further in his own pleasure, as he dropped his head down into the crook of Kurt's shoulder, and slowly rocked to a stop.

Kurt buried his fingers on Blaine's loose curls, tugging until he could crash their lips together. They kissed desperately, passionately, open-mouthed, with a sense of urgency unlike any of the other times they'd been together. It was because they were on a countdown now. How many more times did they have left to share this? How many more frantic kisses, heated touches, and murmured words of desire?

Kurt moved to pull out, but Blaine held on to him. "No, wait." He licked his lips. "Can you stay there a little longer? If it's not uncomfortable, I mean..."

Kurt kissed his forehead. "Of course. As long as you need me to."

Silently, Blaine snuggled against his chest, Kurt's subtle shifting causing shivers all over him, because of how sensitive he was inside. He clung to Kurt, feeling his pulse with his fingertips, how alive, how there he was. Blaine almost felt like crying.

As if he could sense Blaine's distress, Kurt peppered him with soft little kisses everywhere he could reach, as he rubbed circles on the small of his back.

His voice was tentative, almost scared, when he finally spoke up. "I... Blaine, I..." he swallowed, and then took a deep breath, as he gathered his courage. "Come with me. Please, Blaine. Come with me to New York."

Blaine moved so quickly that his neck cracked when he looked at Kurt, gaping. He hadn't been expecting that, and he certainly hadn't been expecting the sudden flash of hope going through him at the idea that maybe his dreams weren't doomed, not yet.

But reality intruded. Blaine realized that his rising hopes were vain, because he couldn't just follow Kurt.

"I can't," he said with a shaky voice. "I can't, Kurt. I have the book store, and my mom... I couldn't leave her here, all alone, after she lost my father." He cupped Kurt's cheek and rested their foreheads together. "Trust me, I'd go with you without a second thought, if I could. But..."

"You're right," Kurt interrupted, closing his eyes to hide his feelings. "It was silly of me to ask you that. I'm sorry."

Blaine wanted to protest that it wasn't silly, that he was thrilled he'd even asked. But he didn't, because he knew that words would fail him, because he could feel the tears forming and the distance starting, and it was breaking him into pieces that he had to let Kurt go.

He didn't have any other choice.

*

Kurt and Blaine became absolutely inseparable, spending every possible minute together. Every day, as soon as they were done with work, they went to Kurt's house and took advantage of every second they had left. They didn't really talk again, about what was about to happen; about being separated by hundreds of miles, into two separate worlds; about what it would mean. They didn't want to taint the time they had left with sad conversations. Every moment needed to be treasured.

Burt and Carole joined them during some of those evenings, to help Kurt prepare to leave Lima. Kurt was sorting everything he owned into four categories: things to take, things to sell, things to donate, and things Burt refused to part with because they held precious memories.

There was a fifth category of personal objects that couldn't be thrown away, to be stored in the already crowded Hummel basement. Burt would sell Kurt's truck and his house, and send the money to get him started in his new life in the city.

It was devastating to see the house gradually empty, stripped of everything that made it Kurt's. Sometimes Blaine would walk into a room, as the sudden realization that this was actually happening struck him with a painful punch to the gut.

Heather was adamant about cancelling their usual lunch dates so Blaine wouldn't have to be apart from Kurt. She assured him she was fine, busy with her charity projects. Blaine believed her, and thanked her for allowing him to make the most of these last few days. He was so grateful for his mother, to have someone to hold him once Kurt left, when he was completely heartbroken.

He just wished he didn't have to be heartbroken at all.

*

Blaine was irked at having to have to step on a stool to reach the higher shelves at the bookshop. He was carefully balancing his weight and reshelving the books he was holding, when the door opened with the clear, soft chime of the bell. He looked over his shoulder and smiled automatically, the way he did whenever Kurt was around.

"Hey! I'll be there in a minute!" He called happily.

"Do you need any help?" Kurt offered, coming closer.

"I hope you're not fishing for a height challenged joke..." Blaine inserted the last two books and then accepted Kurt's hand to climb down the stool with huff. It was only then that he noticed that Kurt was wearing his designer clothes at a time and place where anyone in town could see him, for the first time since they had met. The silk scarf wrapped around his neck made his eyes look especially grey. "You look amazing," Blaine offered sincerely.

"Thank you," Kurt beamed at him brightly. "I just came from the Donovan's house," he added, as he followed Blaine back to the counter. "I told him I quit."

Blaine put the stool behind the counter and then leaned across it, closer to Kurt. "I'm sure he wasn't very happy about that."

"I told him he could shove his stupid job up his ass," Kurt shrugged. "And oh my god, it felt good."

"I'm proud of you," Blaine squeezed his hand gently and then cleared his throat and pretended he was arranging some papers on the counter. "So, uhm, what are you going to do with all the unexpected free time you have now, huh?"

This time Kurt reached for his hand. When Blaine looked up, he was suddenly serious, his lips set in a straight line, his gaze a little doubtful, almost scared. "I think we need to talk."

Blaine definitely didn't like the sound of that, but he was aware that they had been avoiding the conversation they needed to have for a few days now. He swallowed, and nodded, intertwining their fingers to guide Kurt to the reading area, so they could sit in the armchairs and be more comfortable.

"Look, Blaine, I..." Kurt started, not really looking at him.

"I think I know what you're going to say," Blaine interrupted, unable to stop himself. He tried bravely to smile. He really did. Kurt studied him quietly, waiting. "And I get it. It's fine. We're going our different ways, so it's only logical that you don't want to see me anymore and..."

"Blaine," Kurt gasped in shock. He stood up from his armchair and sat on Blaine's lap, startling him. Kurt had never behaved like this before, especially not where anyone could walk in and see him. "Yes, we're going our different ways, but... I don't want to stop seeing you. I know we can't... I'm not stupid. I know long distance relationships are complicated. And we've never even labeled what we are... but I don't want to lose you. You're... you're the best friend I've ever had."

The words should've sounded comforting, and warm, but they felt like a stab in the heart to Blaine. Friends. That's all they were. Everything they could be.

"You... you're my best friend, too," Blaine said, and he knew the smile on his face was faltering, but he hoped Kurt wouldn't notice.

But of course, he did.

"You know you're so much more than that..." Kurt rested their foreheads together and sighed forlornly. "So much more, Blaine, but I... I'm leaving, and you can't come with me."

Blaine bit his lip, wishing he could change his reply. "I know."

"How could this, us, work when we're going to live in different states for who knows how long? You won't leave your life to go to New York, and I can't stay here, knowing I have a chance to make it there. Staying in Lima forever never was my plan."

"So..." Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes, not hiding his feelings anymore, because Kurt obviously felt the same. "We'll make the most out of these last days... and then we'll say goodbye."

"No, I hope not," Kurt's hands found their way to lace his fingers behind Blaine's neck. "I was hoping we could still be friends? Maybe talk every now and then? E-mail? I mean it when I say I don't want to lose you, Blaine. I'll keep you any way I can."

Blaine cupped Kurt's cheek. "I'll keep you any way I can, too. I feel like I've just found you and now I'm losing you... that shouldn't even be an option." He could already feel the tears forming in his eyes, but this wasn't the time to cry. Not yet. He nuzzled against Kurt's temple, forcing himself to smile. "But let's just... let's try to be happy. Let's enjoy what we have, and let's be together. We'll deal with that when it's time, okay?"

"Are you sure you don't want to talk more about it?" Kurt asked hesitantly.

"What is there to talk about? Once you get on your plane to New York, I'll stay here, and I'll always remain your friend... for as long as you'll have me," Blaine whispered earnestly.

Kurt pulled him in for a brief, sweet kiss. "Right. We still have... we still have a few days."

"We'll make them count."

Kurt managed to curl his lips up into a trembling smile, and murmured against Blaine's mouth, just before going in for a second kiss, much deeper, much sweeter this time: "We'll make them count."

*

It was the last Friday night dinner Kurt would have with his family, before he left. Blaine wanted to skip this one, to let Kurt enjoy some quality family time, but Kurt had tugged on his hand, kissed his lips softly and told him he wanted him there. So how could Blaine resist?

Blaine sat next to him during dinner, feeling him sitting close one last time, and did his best to keep his eyes on his food so no one would notice how badly he wanted to cry.

Still, Burt couldn't help noticing, and across the table, he nodded at Blaine sympathetically. It was clear what that nod meant: I understand exactly how you feel. I'm losing him, too.

*

The sound of the alarm going off crept into Blaine's dream very slowly, until he was finally conscious enough to understand what it was. He moved to turn it off, but Kurt beat him to it.

"It's okay," Kurt murmured, his voice hoarse with sleep. "You can sleep a bit more. I need to go shower."

But now that he had been ripped away from his dream, Blaine remembered why they were getting up earlier than usual on a Sunday. He knew why Kurt had to get ready, and where they'd be going later that morning...

"No, no," he mumbled, blinking and sitting up. "I'm up."

Kurt buried his fingers in the morning mess of Blaine's curls, tugging him closer. "Hey, if you're up, do you wanna join me in the shower?"

Blaine accepted the kiss, relishing it, wishing it could last forever. "How could I say no to that offer?"

As he stood under the warm spray, Blaine did everything he could to make sure he'd memorized every inch of Kurt's body. He didn't want to forget how amazing his smooth creamy skin felt under his fingertips, or the number of freckles he had on his left shoulder, or how Kurt gasped when Blaine let his finger catch slightly on a nipple. He traced every line, every vein; every muscle, every curve. He washed Kurt's hair to feel how thick and soft it was amongst his fingers, and kissed the sharp line of his jaw.

Kurt allowed him to do it, watching him intently, and then returned the favor, washing Blaine's hair and soaping up his body as he ran his hands over his tanned, beautiful skin. It seemed to take all the strength out of them, and they stayed under the shower spray for a few minutes, wrapped up in each other, chests moving in sync with their breaths, and not wanting to let go even though they knew they had to. Their time was running out.

Blaine made coffee while Kurt double checked that he hadn't forgotten something for the last time. Blaine went back upstairs with the coffee and stood by the bedroom's doorway, watching Kurt flipping through his closet, checking every last drawer. His heart clenched, pleading for him to not let him go, but his head was set on doing exactly the opposite. Kurt needed to be in New York. He wouldn't – couldn't beg him to stay here with him.

"Stop worrying," Blaine said, trying to sound nonchalant, as he took a sip from his own mug. "Your father already told you he'd send you anything you forget. He and Finn will be here tonight to take the rest of the stuff to his place. They'll make sure there isn't anything left behind, one last time."

"I'd rather not forget anything, though," Kurt answered, as he accepted the cup Blaine was offering him.

They sat on the bed (one of the last pieces of furniture left in the house where they could actually sit) and drank their coffees mostly in silence. There wasn't much more left to say. Blaine didn't want to pay too much attention to the aura of sadness in the air. They couldn't ruin this, this very important exciting day in Kurt's life.

Kurt grabbed his hand, kissed his palm, smiled at him. "Thank you so much, Blaine. This wouldn't be happening if it wasn't for you."

"Someone had to believe in your talent," Blaine shrugged, grinning. "And you were being particularly stubborn."

"Well, I'm really glad you believed in me," Kurt answered, and leaned in to capture Blaine's lips in a coffee-flavored kiss.

They had already agreed that Blaine would drive Kurt to the airport. He had said goodbye to his family on Friday, but both Carole and Burt assured their son that they would come to visit him in New York as soon as he was settled, so they knew this wasn't a final goodbye.

It was goodbye for Blaine, and they understood that. They gave him the chance to have Kurt to himself a little bit longer.

The car ride was intense. They held hands as much as they could. Kurt pulled Blaine's hand onto his lap and cradled it between his own, while he could. His blue eyes were constantly staring out the window, and Blaine wondered if he was holding back tears, too. Blaine was certainly fighting to keep his tears at bay.

He found a spot to park the car when they got there, and Kurt turned to him. "You don't have to go inside if you don't want to..."

"I want to," Blaine insisted, and with a quick squeeze of his hand, they both got out of the car.

Blaine's grip on Kurt's hand as they walked through the crowded terminal was so tight that he was sure he was cutting off Kurt's blood flow, but he couldn't pull away, couldn't let go of him yet. It seemed it wasn't his brain controlling his body today, but his heart, clinging onto Kurt to keep him from leaving.

When Kurt's flight was announced through the speakers, Blaine bit his lip. They stopped right in front of the door Kurt would have to walk through to depart from Blaine's life. They looked at each other, seeing their sadness mirrored.

"I'm going to miss you so much," Kurt muttered, wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck and pulling him closer, one last time.

"I'm going to miss you, too," Blaine closed his eyes and swallowed down the lump threatening to close his throat. He couldn't allow himself to cry yet. "But we're going to stay in touch, right? Even if we can't see each other, even if we can't... even if I can't kiss you and touch you... I'll still hear from you?"

"If course you will," Kurt promised softly, with a smile. "I'll send you the first email tomorrow, right after my first day at Vogue. I'll tell you in meticulous detail how it went."

"Can't wait," Blaine whispered, and then took a sharp intake of breath. "Kurt, I..." He wanted to say it. He needed to say it. Kurt couldn't leave without knowing how much Blaine loved him... but, no. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair to either of them to say those words when they were about to go down different paths. Those three words should never be said for the first time, in a bittersweet goodbye. "I-I'm incredibly proud of you. So proud."

If Kurt was disappointed, he hid it extremely well. "Thank you, but there's nothing to be proud of yet. Just wait. I'll make you proud."

The female voice on the speakers announced the last call for Kurt's flight. Blaine saw Kurt giving the surrounding throng a quick look, but he must have decided he didn't give a shit about what they thought, because he closed the distance between them and kissed Blaine as passionately as he had kissed him the night before between the sheets of his bed.

Blaine wrapped his arms around his waist and kept their bodies glued together, forcing his senses to absorb every smell, feeling, sound of Kurt. He needed to remember this. He couldn't miss anything.

Kurt finished the kiss reluctantly. He pecked Blaine on the lips one last time. "I really have to go now."

"I know," Blaine sighed, as he tried to pull himself together. He managed to look Kurt in the eyes again without any sobs escaping from his throat. "You're going to take New York by storm, Kurt Hummel."

"I will. For you," Kurt cupped his cheek, gazes melting into each other, earnestly. He nodded. "This is only happening because of you. I won't disappoint you, Blaine."

Blaine's heart seemed to have realized Kurt wasn't staying, because it was suddenly screaming to Blaine to run away, to escape from the pain, and Kurt wasn't even gone yet.

"You could never disappoint me," he said, his voice cracking. He took a step back, out of Kurt's arms, like jumping off a building into space. "Have a good flight."

Kurt bit his lip and nodded. There wasn't anything else left to say. Only goodbye, and neither of them intended to ever say that. It wasn't goodbye. Not really. It couldn't be.

Kurt turned to walk to the door and handed his ticket to the airline employee, who checked it quickly and wished him a nice flight. Only then did Kurt look over his shoulder, and smiled, the slightest tug of lips, at Blaine one last time.

And just like that, he was gone.

*

The sound of a car parking alerted Heather Anderson that someone was coming. She dried her hands on the kitchen cloth and lowered the temperature on the oven where she was baking brownies, so they wouldn't dry out. Then she walked to the front door, and pulled it open just as a faint knock sounded.

Blaine immediately fell into his mother's arms; tear tracks tracing his cheeks and chest heaving with his repressed sobs. He clung to her as if he had nothing else to ground him.

"He's gone. Mom, he's gone," he said, completely devastated.

Heather could only rock him gently back and forth as she held him. "It's going to be okay, darling. Just breathe. It'll be okay."

From the way his body started shaking as he cried harder, it was obvious he didn't believe so.

*

Kurt checked the address one last time before he exited the cab, setting his suitcase onto the sidewalk. He looked up at the building as the yellow car drove off in the city traffic. Even standing there, breathing in the not-always-pleasant scents of New York, he felt like he'd come home.

With a huff of determination, he went into the building and found the elevator, where he hit the button for the sixth floor. It seemed like it took forever to ascend, and every breath he took made him feel heavier and heavier with anticipation.

The apartment he was looking for was the third one down the hallway. He stood at the white wooden door and closed his eyes for a moment before knocking. A voice came from inside, asking him to wait a minute. Kurt battled the emotions vying inside of him: excitement, dread, anxiety, fear.

Finally, the door opened to reveal the one person who had always been there for him, even during the darkest times. It was so weird seeing her again, like she had been pulled out of one of his dreams, and judging by the look on her face, she wasn't feeling very different about seeing him at her doorstep.

"Hi, Rachel," he muttered quietly.

"Kurt..." Rachel exhaled, breathlessly. "W-what...? I..."

"I know I'm very late, but..." He held a white envelope in front of him. "I got your letter."

Rachel simply gaped at him for a moment, and then tears shone in her eyes. She smiled brighter that he had ever seen her smile before, as she launched herself unexpectedly into his arms, laughing hysterically and squealing in delight.

Maybe he had lost his lover today, but at least he'd gotten his best friend back.

Kurt tried his hardest to let that thought comfort him. It wasn't helping, but he hugged Rachel a little tighter, just in case.