Blaine's eyes were closed and his lips were almost pressed against the microphone. The stage lights were hot on his sweaty skin, and his light blue shirt was clinging to his back. The soft beat of the drum and the gentle rhythm of the bass seemed to echo the beats of his own heart.

The midnight ghost is roaring on its way
Goes through California up to Oakland and the bay
My travelling can be lonesome, but Im happy cause Im bound
For the bright lights and the harbour of Euges Town

The audience was quiet and small. It was a Wednesday night and only a handful of people had stopped by this bar in Washington. There was a slight drizzle falling outside, and it seemed to reflect Blaine's mood somehow.

Ive tried so long to be what the world expects of me
But Im blind by this craving to be free

The light reveals I'm empty
But Ive got everything I want on the midnight ghost

The song had a sensual, melancholic beat. Blaine was sitting at the piano – a beautiful baby grand that looked like it belonged anywhere but in this hole-in-the-wall bar with sticky, worn wooden tables and cheap beer.

The station masters flashlight is sweeping low and wide.
seeking out the stragglers trying to hitch a free ride
I know these wound out rail yards
like I know my sun-cracked face
and I slip on board as the zipper gathers pace.

I got no lover, I have no kid, no kin
waiting on this engine rolling in.
No my only friends and help means
since we tear on up the coast
are some red wine and the rattle of the midnight ghost

The song came to an end very slowly, and he could feel Georgina's penetrating gaze fixed on him. His voice was raw and his face showed how tired he was.

There was some light applause and Blaine nodded his thanks, needing a moment to find himself again. For a moment, he had forgotten where he was, all the way across the country from the place he used to call his home, from the person he used to call his home.

Texts weren't enough – Blaine missed Kurt. He missed him so much it hurt. But he didn't know what to do, and there were still plenty of cities to visit. Almost six months on the road, and it didn't look like they had a return ticket yet. Georgina was excited about California, saying they could meet some interesting people there, stay for a while, catch someone's attention and hopefully find the big break that had eluded them so far.

But while Georgina, Rick and Jimmy talked about how amazing it would be to finally sign a contract and know for sure they could make a living with their music, Blaine sat quietly in a corner, thinking of playing his guitar distractedly in Kurt's living room while he watched Kurt move around the kitchen, with the delicious smells of his cooking filling the apartment. He thought of Kurt's smile when he played a song he liked, of how he would join him, singing and dancing as he stirred the pasta.

Music would always be his passion, but Kurt was his heart, his breath and his life.

Blaine swallowed thickly and reached for his drink, carefully placed on the floor besides him. He took a sip and tried to focus back on the show. Jimmy arched an eyebrow at him, and he nodded, standing up and reaching for his guitar.

They began playing the next song as if Blaine hadn't left his heart on stage with his last one.

*

Kurt broke off a piece of pretzel, and popped it into his mouth as he walked leisurely across the park. It was a beautiful warm sunny day in Central Park, so it was teeming with people enjoying the weather. He'd thought about inviting Rachel to join him, but she was always busy and he didn't mind being by himself. He'd gotten used to it since Blaine had left.

He sat at an empty shaded bench and watched a couple of kids rolling down a grassy hill, laughing.  The older one helped his little brother to his feet, their smiles enormous. Kurt could see the gaps from the missing baby teeth, from where he sat. They ran back up the hill to where a young couple sat on the blanket, and started rolling again.

Their carelessness at the green grass stains on their clothes looked a lot like freedom to Kurt.

An old man sat next to him on the bench. He had a cute black Scottish Terrier with him. The dog was wearing a red bowtie and Kurt couldn't help cooing at him, immediately asking the man permission to snap a picture of his pet.

He texted it to Blaine, adding a little message to it: He's sitting next to me in the park and he made me think of you.

Blaine's response arrived just two minutes later, and it made Kurt smile.

To: Kurt

Are you trying to tell me I'm a puppy?

From: Kurt

The resemblance is uncanny.

Kurt bit his lip as he waited for Blaine to reply again. Things felt easier, lighter, better. It was almost like old times.

It was a good ten minutes before he got Blaine's reply, but when Kurt opened the text, the wait was totally worth it. It was a picture of Blaine, pouting, wearing a red bowtie. His curly hair was completely out of control, unstyled as if he'd just rolled out of bed. And his beard looked bushy enough to evoke a caveman.

He cackled so loudly that the dog tilted his head at him, startled.

He stopped so suddenly that the old man turned to him sharply, as if wanting to check if he was okay. Kurt gaped at him for a moment, inhaling shakily, before a grin slowly grew on his lips.

“I…” He murmured. “I'm in love with him.”

The man seemed terribly confused, but Kurt had no time to explain. For the first time in months, he felt the guilt had completely extinguished. It was gone. He felt like a balloon that had been filled to its fullest extent – he was ready to float away.

After so many months of pain and self-loathing, Kurt knew he was ready to move on, and the realization hit him so abruptly that it left him breathless for a moment.

“Are you alright?” The man asked him, concerned.

Kurt leaned to pet the dog softly, as if thanking him for playing a little but important part in this discovery. Then he smiled at the man. “I think I finally am.”

The sun was shining brightly over him, and Kurt sighed in contentment as he let it soak through his skin.

*

It was a beautiful summer night and Kurt was sitting outside in the fire escape. He had a bottle of wine and his phone balancing on his leg. He looked down at it, took a good sip from his glass, and then dialed the number he had been dying to dial for months now.

“Please don't be on stage right now, please don't be on stage right now, please don't…” Kurt muttered to himself, but then he heard the distinctive sound of the call being accepted and a lot of background noise. “Blaine?”

“Kurt! Hi!” Blaine said, a little shocked. “Wow. I… I didn't think you would call…”

“Yeah, I…” Kurt took a deep breath. “I really missed your voice…”

“God, I missed yours too. It's so nice to talk to you, I…” Blaine chuckled incredulously. “Just give me one second to go outside so I can really hear you, okay?”

“Sure, sure… I can call later, if you're busy…” Kurt proposed. Why was he so nervous? He and Blaine had talked on the phone a million times before.

“Don't' you dare hang up,” Blaine said teasingly, and then the background noise faded and Blaine sighed happily. “There. Man, it was hot in that bar…”

“Where are you tonight?”

“Vegas,” Blaine answered. “And let me tell you… it's not as fun as everyone makes it sound. Or maybe I'm getting old.”

Kurt snorted. “Oh, come on. I'm a year older than you, so don't you ever say that again.”

“Like you could get old,” Blaine said, and Kurt was sure he was rolling his eyes. “All those moisturizing routines will make you look twenty five even when you're eighty.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Kurt murmured playfully, and Blaine laughed. “So… how are you?”

“Good. This trip has been… revealing, if nothing else. I've always thought I would love this kind of life, just touring around, playing random bars, sleeping wherever…” Blaine said thoughtfully. “But you know, it's tiring. I guess it would be so much better if we had someone more organized in charge, but Georgina keeps changing our plans every two hours. The playing part is fun. The rest, not so much.”

“Do you miss New York?” Kurt asked, a little scared of the answer.

“Every day,” Blaine replied simply, as if he wasn't making Kurt's heart race and fill with hope with those words. “I've been to some amazing places, but I don't think any place in the world could compare to New York…”

“So… you're coming back?” Kurt dared to question timidly.

There was a little pause, but Blaine finally talked again. “I wasn't so sure I would, a few months ago, but… I think I will.”

It was Kurt's turn to be silent now. His stomach churned with guilt, and even though he wanted to wait until he saw Blaine again to talk about this, he didn't want to wait. He didn't want this cloud hanging over their heads anymore. It needed to be acknowledged. “Blaine, I… I can't tell you how sorry I am for the things I said to you. I never meant to hurt you or send you away. I know you deserve a lot more than a phone call and an apology, but… I feel awful. I felt awful immediately after I left your apartment. I want to make it up to you, but I don't think I'll ever find something big enough to.”

“Kurt, it's fine,” Blaine said, and he sounded a little tired and a lot regretful. “I know why you said those things. I know it wasn't truly about me. You were mad at what we had done, and you weren't ready for it. Don't torture yourself over it…”

“You've always been too damn kind to me, Blaine Anderson,” Kurt said, exasperated. “You have the right to be upset and to tell me I'm an asshole. You should have slapped me, even. But I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. You're a wonderful guy, Blaine. You would never do such horrible things.”

“I really wouldn't,” Blaine murmured. “But I'm still sorry, too. I… what I said… I shouldn't have sprung my feelings on you like that, when you were already freaking out and upset. I should have had more tact. I truly have no excuse. I guess I was bound to explode and tell you, with how long I had been keeping it locked inside…”

Kurt bit his lip. This wasn't the direction he had expected the phone call to take, but it was good that they were talking, being honest. Maybe that's why they had kept to text messages and pictures only. They couldn't help being upfront with each other when they talked. They had needed to wait until they were ready to face what they had to say.

“Did you…” Kurt cleared his throat awkwardly. “Did you go on this tour to forget me?”

He felt like an idiot for asking that, but he needed to know.

Blaine didn't seem to have problems answering. Maybe now that his biggest secret had been revealed, he didn't want to keep anything else to himself. “I needed the distance. I felt like I would just hurt the both of us if I stayed. I needed to think clearly, and I couldn't do that there. But yes, my main reason to leave was to try to forget you.”

It was like getting a punch to the stomach. Kurt fought to control his breathing and keep his tears at bay. “And… did you succeed?”

Blaine sighed. “You're pretty unforgettable, Kurt,” he chuckled bitterly. “No, I… I'm sorry. I'm sorry if my being in love with you makes things awkward, but I promise..”

“No,” Kurt interrupted, because he couldn't let Blaine think that loving him was wrong any longer. “No. I really, really love the way you love me, Blaine. It's nice to be loved by you.”

The silence that followed was heavy with questions that neither dared to ask. Kurt could hear Blaine breathing with difficulty on the other end.

“We probably have a lot to talk about when I come back to New York, huh?” Blaine muttered in a low, careful voice.

Kurt smiled. His eyes were watery and he fixed them on a random point on the street below him. He imagined Blaine standing there, looking up at him and smiling. He imagined him climbing up the fire escape. He imagined the kiss they could share if he was there. He imagined how good it would feel, how right. And then he looked up at the sky, where others told him Mark was now, and hoped his husband, wherever he was, was happy for him. That Kurt was honoring him by not allowing sadness to bury him in darkness forever.

“We do, yeah,” Kurt replied softly. “So Blaine… please come home.”

There was only one more whisper before the call ended. It felt like a caress and like a promise all at the same time. “I will, Kurt.”

*

Of all the shows they had played so far – and they were too many to keep count – Blaine was sure the one in San Francisco would be the best one. He had had such a great time on stage, and the city was beautiful. If there was one place he would ever be able to trade New York for, it would probably be San Francisco.

He walked from the stage to the bar to get another beer, and was immediately intercepted by a guy, who put his hand on Blaine's forearm and squeezed.

“You were amazing up there, honey,” he said. He was flirting so blatantly that Blaine blushed, unsure of what to do. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I… I'm very flattered, but I'm…”

There was absolutely no reason to say no. Blaine was single, had been for a very long time now, and the one man he was in love with didn't feel the same. But he still felt guilty – stupidly – for even thinking about looking at another guy.

“You're taken, aren't you?” The man said, pouting in disappointment. “All the cute ones like you usually are.”

“Yeah, I am. He's… I really love him,” Blaine answered, not sure why he kept talking.

“He's a lucky man,” the stranger winked at him and disappeared in the crowd.

Blaine continued towards the bar. He was reaching for his wallet to pay for his beer when another man approached him. He was older, sophisticated almost, with greying hair. He was handsome, Blaine couldn't deny that.

“I got it,” the man said, and paid before Blaine could even protest. “Hi. My name's Peter Wallace.”

“I'm Blaine,” he said, accepting the hand the man offered. “Thank you for the drink. You didn't have to pay for it. I… I'm taken,” he decided to keep the same excuse. It had worked with the last guy, at least.

Peter held his hands up. “I'm not trying to seduce you, Blaine. Just wanted to tell you I really enjoyed your show. You're very talented.”

“Wow, thank you,” Blaine answered happily. It was the first time someone approached them actively to say something like that. “I'm glad you enjoyed our set.”

“I really did. Are you a songwriter? I noticed there were a few original pieces,” Peter sat on a stool at the bar, and Blaine did the same, settling in for the conversation.

“I am,” Blaine nodded enthusiastically. “We mainly play covers, but I love writing so… sometimes we give my songs a shot.”

“Anyone can be a cover band. Not everyone has the talent to produce their own material,” Peter said, fixing him with a pointed glance. “But you do, Blaine. Those songs were the best part, and you looked… so lost in them. Like you truly believed what you were singing about. You can't always get that with songs someone else wrote…”

Blaine chuckled nervously. “I honestly don't know what to say. That's so kind of you.”

“Well, I'll tell you what you can say. You can say yes to my contract offer.” Peter said, leaning closer to be heard over the background noise. “I own a music production company. We hire songwriters for many of the major pop stars on the radio. I've worked with people who have had number one hits on every chart world-wide. They've won awards and appeared on magazine covers...”

“Wait,” Blaine stopped him. His head was suddenly spinning so he put his beer down. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“You have a way with lyrics, and you are pretty damn good with a melody too. I think you would be a perfect fit for my clients. We're always looking for fresh new material. I hope you have a lot of songs like those in your back pocket…”

“You're offering me a job,” Blaine mumbled, shocked.

“I am. We still have to discuss the details, but unless there are some surprises, the job is yours.”

Blaine stared at him, feeling like a fish out of the water. “You don't even know me.”

Peter smiled. “Blaine. I've heard your songs. I think I know everything I need to know.”

Blaine licked his lips nervously. This was a huge opportunity, but he wanted to be smart about it. “I… I'm not from San Francisco.”

“Neither am I. I just travel a lot to scout new talent.” Peter stood, and reached into his jacket pocket to extract a business card. “My contact information is on there. Give me a call tomorrow and we'll set up a meeting.”

Blaine watched him walk away, dumbfounded. He felt like he was dreaming. His head was swimming and the music was too loud. The edges of the business card dug into his palm. He looked down at it, and inhaled sharply when he read the address of the office.

It was in Manhattan.

*

Weve all got to dream of something,
tall buildings or wet sand between our toes, 
or fast cars and fancy clothes. 

The piano keys felt like cool velvet under his fingers, as he played, caressing them like a lover giving pleasure. His head was bowed, his lips touching the microphone in an intimate kiss between him and the words.

Some folks spend their whole lives fighting
while some find the good life drops in their lap
nothing ever will close that gap
You just got to jump onboard
and hope youll find your reward. 

Blaine looked back on the past few months. There had been so much heartache and confusion, so much uncertainty. He hadn't known where he would end by the time they reached their last destination, where he would go from there. But he had hoped, through it all, that whatever was waiting at the end would be good.

Soon that day will come your urge to roam will relent,
so make your move, make your peace, make amends, 
were all coming home in the end

The phone call had been so hopeful. Blaine looked back on it now, a few nights later, and knew that what he would find in New York would be a lot better than what he had left behind. In the worst case scenario, he would get his best friend back. And that wasn't a bad scenario at all…

Ive travelled so far so quickly
the continent spinning beneath my wings
ticking boxes, acquiring things, 
but the further I go I find, I just want what I left behind

A curvy, overwhelming canyon in Arizona. A colorful field of tulips in Washington. The wilderness of Colorado. Caverns in New Mexico. A gorgeous waterfall in Texas. The stunning Lake Tahoe in the limit between Nevada and California…

And still, Kurt remained the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.

Maybe love will lead me back to your door
the need to feel something simple and pure, like I did before, 
how we strain our necks to see whats around the next bend
or waste our hours chasing fair-weather friends
were all coming home in the end. 

It was their last night, their last stop in Los Angeles. He felt like he had seen and done everything he had expected to see and do in this trip. He had checked every little item on his list. Except the one he had never been able to do, regardless of location, time or circumstances.

Forgetting Kurt.

So fly, dont shy from some afar desired prize
a million miles from where we lie, 
Cos your flight is one enormous circle looping wide
to bring you right back to my side, 
oh, oh, oh

Blaine repeated the last line over and over until the music began to fade. It tasted like nectar in his mouth – sweet, hopeful and a little impatient. Like he knew exactly what was going to happen once he finished singing.

He was coming home.

He was coming home to Kurt.

*