For the past month, Blaine had basically allowed habits to make him move through his daily routine – he would get up, have a quick breakfast and head to the gym to train, work with the guys, and then go back home at the end of the day, spent and sweaty, to watch some mindless TV and eat before heading to bed. It was a rinse-and-repeat situation, endless, monotonous, boring.

It was the only way Blaine knew how to go on.

He tried not to think too much. It was easier when his mind was blank and he simply focused on what was in front of him. Thinking about Kurt only made him aware of the painful, gaping hole in his chest, where his heart used to be.

He had been such a fool – why had he thought things would be different this time? Nothing ever was. Blaine's life had been leaning towards hell since he was fourteen years old. Why had he thought that Kurt would grab his hand and take him to paradise at last?

It was a little past noon when Blaine walked into the gym. The familiar scent of sweat and too much deodorant greeted him like an old friend. He had been out running through the park with one of his guys, and he was back just in time to train with a new young boy who had joined the gym recently.

Tony was already there, standing near the ring and watching two of the guys spar. Blaine smiled when he saw his eager gaze. Tony had arrived at the gym looking like a tiny scarecrow, and he was slowly but surely filling his own muscles, standing taller. He was only eighteen years old, fresh from Arizona for college, and at first Blaine had thought he was too gentle to get into boxing. But then Tony proved him wrong, and Blaine took him under his wing.

“Hey Tony,” he said, clasping a hand on his shoulder.

“Hi, Blaine!” He exclaimed enthusiastically. “What are we going to do today?”

“Let's start with some weightlifting,” Blaine instructed, guiding him to the opposite side of the gym. “Let's warm up, workout a little, and then we'll spar when the ring is vacant.”

They worked through their usual warm-up routine. As soon as they moved towards the machines, Blaine instructed Tony to start with the bench press, and he situated in the one next to his, so he could accompany Tony during the exercises. Blaine's body groaned in protest for a moment – he had been pushing himself way too hard lately, but it was a good distraction.

By the time they had done a good round of all the strength training equipment, Blaine told Tony to head over to the ring while he fetched a couple of bottles of water. They hydrated willingly, while they grabbed their gloves.

“I want you to focus on blocking today,” Blaine said as he climbed onto the ring and bounced a little on his feet. “Blocking is as important as knowing how to hit. You can never let your guard down, okay?”

“Okay,” Tony said, all wide-eyed and eager. The kid was like a sponge – he absorbed every word Blaine said and stared at him with the kind of admiration that Blaine wasn't sure he deserved.

It started out well. Blaine corrected Tony's posture a few times and gave him tips to make his defense more effective. Tony managed to land a few solid punches on Blaine that made him grin – it was nice to see the kid picking things up so well.

Maybe Blaine got confident that Tony was doing too well. He threw a quick jab that was easily rejected, but Tony didn't see his right hook coming immediately after it. Blaine's gloved fist connected with his face a little too strongly, and before he knew it, Tony was stepping back, his hands covering his face, and leaving a trail of blood behind him.

“Oh shit!” Blaine exclaimed, worried. “Tony, I'm sorry. Are you okay?”

It was difficult to make Tony remove his hands from his face so Blaine could check on him, but as soon as he did, he realized he had probably broken his nose. Blaine cursed under his breath and helped him out of the ring, yelling at Carlos to get him a taxi to take the kid to the hospital.

This was definitely not a part of Blaine's routine…

*

Kurt kept his smile on his face even though he was ready to hit the future Mrs. Astin with the nearest bouquet of roses he could find.

“Are you sure you don't want to consider a less traditional option?” Kurt asked sweetly, in what Santana called his I'm-about-to-commit-murder voice. “Red roses are definitely beautiful, but they would clash with the rest of the décor we have discussed…”

They were walking down a row of flowers at Kurt's favorite vendor. He had tried to lead the woman and her best friend towards the orchids, the lilies and the geraniums, but she was fixated on the red roses.

“Mike gave me red roses for our first date,” she insisted. “It's symbolic.”

Kurt kept that tight smile on his lips. Of course he gave you red roses for your first date, sweetheart. Men have absolutely no imagination whatsoever when it comes to choosing flowers for a date. They choose the easiest option. You and about every other bride in America gets red roses…

“That's really lovely,” Kurt muttered, making sure he remained professional and patient. “How about we create a mix of flowers, including red roses, that will allow you to have that symbolism you want, and match the décor at the same time?”

The woman kept staring at the red roses as if she had never seen something like them before. “No, I don't like that idea. I want these ones.”

Kurt was glad his phone started to ring in that moment, because he was seriously considering making her eat the damn roses. He lifted a finger to ask them to wait and walked a few steps away to take the call. “Hello, this is Kurt Hummel.”

“Kurt?” A slightly strangled female voice said on the other end. “Hi, I'm sorry to bother you, I… it's Tanya…”

“Tanya?” Kurt repeated, confused, and immediately an alarm went off inside of him. “What's wrong? Are you okay?”

“I don't think so,” she replied, and he would have sworn she was crying. “I… I'm having contractions. I'm heading to the hospital right now.”

“Contractions?” Kurt repeated dumbly. She couldn't have contractions. She hadn't even passed the seven months mark yet. It was too soon.

“Look, I'm sorry… I know you're probably busy, but I just… I don't know what's going on, and I thought you should know and…” Tanya rambled on, clearly panicking.

“Honey, breathe,” Kurt interrupted, trying not to sound like he was about to throw up even though he was. “I'm on my way to the hospital. Are you alone?”

“My roommate is with me,” she answered.

“Good. Stay with her, ask for your doctor as soon as you get there, and I'll meet you in a few minutes. It'll be okay, honey,” he said, and tried to sound convincing enough so he would believe it, too.

Tanya agreed quietly and then hung up. Kurt felt on edge, like he wasn't home in how own skin, as he turned back towards his client. He wasn't sure what was happening, but there was only one place he wanted to be right now, and it wasn't here.

“I'm so sorry,” he muttered frantically. “I have to go… there's a family emergency… I will call you tomorrow and reschedule…”

He didn't even wait for the women to answer. He turned around and ran to the nearest exit, looking around for cabs as soon as he was on the sidewalk. He managed to flag one down relatively quickly, and gave the driver the address of the hospital. He told him to hurry, and slipped him a very generous tip.

He saw Tanya in the reception area as soon as he stepped into the hospital. Her friend was explaining the situation to a nurse, while Tanya held her stomach and closer her eyes. She looked pale and frightened, and it didn't do anything to ease Kurt's nerves.

“Tanya!” He exclaimed, and immediately went to her. She seemed relieved to see him. “Are you okay? Is your doctor here?”

“Doctor Collins is with a patient right now. We'll call her right away,” the nurse said, and fetched a wheel chair for Tanya to sit. “I'll take you to an examination room. Deep breaths, dear. It'll be alright.”

“Can they come with me?” Tanya asked, looking at Kurt and her friend desperately.

“Only one of them, I'm afraid,” the nurse informed her with a gentle smile.

Tanya's hand flew towards Kurt's arm, and held on tightly. “He's the baby's father.”

“Follow me, sir,” the nurse instructed, and they walked down a long, busy hallway towards an examination room.

Doctor Collins arrived ten minutes later. Tanya was already settled comfortably on a small bed, waiting impatiently, clutching Kurt's hand until she cut the circulation. Kurt was as terrified as she was, but tried to get her to calm down, speaking softly and running his fingers through her voluptuous hair. He found himself hoping the baby had her same adorably messy curls.

“What do we have here?” Doctor Collins said as way of greeting, approaching the bed and looking at Tanya seriously.

“Contractions,” Tanya informed her immediately. “I shouldn't be having them, should I? I'll only be seven months pregnant in a week. It's too soon. Is the baby okay?”

“It'll be fine, Tanya. With what frequency are you feeling them?” Doctor Collins asked calmly.

“I…” Tanya paused, confused. “I had three in like half an hour…”

“When was the last one?” Doctor Collins asked, checking something in a clipboard.

Tanya looked up at Kurt and then at the doctor. “The last one was when I left my apartment. When I called you, Kurt,” she said, glancing back at him.

“Were the contractions very painful?” Doctor Collins continued asking, and the lack of urgency in her voice made Kurt even more nervous. Why wasn't she doing anything?

“Uh, no, not really. They scared me, but they weren't unbearably painful…” Tanya replied. “They started slowly. The first one was mostly uncomfortable. The last two were a little more intense.”

“What did you do today, Tanya?” Doctor Collins asked.

Tanya seemed puzzled by the question. “Uhm, I had to go to the library to get a few books. Then I did some grocery shopping, and vacuumed my room…”

Doctor Collins, surprisingly, smiled. “Have you eaten or drunk anything today?”

“I had some orange juice this morning when I had breakfast. I was going to have some lunch after I was done cleaning…” Tanya explained, puzzled.

“Tanya, what you experienced aren't real contractions. Trust me, you'll know the real ones,” she said with a gentle smile. “These were Braxton Hicks contractions. They happen very often in the second and third trimesters, and are usually triggered when the mom is very active or dehydrated. You're almost seven months pregnant, Tanya. You need to slow down a little, and remember to eat and drink when you need it.”

“So it's nothing wrong with the baby? It's not coming early?” Kurt finally couldn't stop himself from interjecting.

Doctor Collins directed a calming smile at him. “No, the baby's not coming yet. The contractions have stopped now, and there's nothing to worry about. Real contractions don't disappear, they grow in intensity and are more painful and steady. Like I said, you'll know when it happens.”

“What should we do now?” Kurt asked, still holding onto Tanya's hand for dear life.

“Well, we're going to get this mommy some water, and then I want her to go home and do nothing for the rest of the day,” Doctor Collins said. “Make sure to pause between one activity and the other, Tanya, and not to do anything that might cause a strain on you or the baby. And please, remember to eat and drink plenty of water.”

“I will,” Tanya promised, sheepishly.

Doctor Collins patted her knee and then left the room. Kurt exhaled loudly and leaned against the edge of the bed.

“I'm so sorry, Kurt,” Tanya said, hiding her face behind her hands in embarrassment. “I shouldn't have scared you. I should have known…”

“It's okay, sweetie,” he replied, numbly. “I'm just glad you and the baby are okay.”

“I promise I'll take better care of myself. Of your baby,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I don't know what I was thinking…”

“You're wonderful,” Kurt said, kissing her forehead. “You've never done this before, and I haven't either. We're learning together.”

They were in the room for half an hour, waiting for Tanya to feel better so she could leave. She promised over and over again that she was going straight to bed as soon as she got home, and Kurt finally walked her back to where her friend was waiting for them.

“I'll take you home,” Kurt said.

“No need,” Tanya smiled at him. “Thank you, Kurt. But I'll be fine. I'll take a cab and Lara will stay with me the whole time. I already took enough of your time. I know how busy you are…”

“Tanya, you're giving me the most important thing I will ever have. My time is yours,” Kurt replied vehemently.

“Still,” Tanya insisted. She planted a sweet kiss on his cheek. “You are amazing. But I feel a lot better, if not a little embarrassed for making such a big deal out of this.”

He watched as Lara wrapped an arm around Tanya and helped her outside. They stood on the curve for a moment, until a cab stopped and they got in. Kurt was rooted to the spot, still inside the hospital, and he was glad to be near a row of seats, because his legs were shaking so badly that he didn't know how much longer they would hold him up.

He buried his face in his hands and let out a breath that it seemed he had been holding forever. He didn't want to cry – Tanya was fine – but he had been so scared…

A voice startled him. “Kurt?”

Kurt looked up and found Blaine standing in front of him, watching him with a mix of curiosity and concern. “Blaine…” Kurt mumbled, and that one name felt like a breath of fresh air.

“Are you okay?” Blaine asked, taking one single step ahead, hesitant. “Did something happen?”

Kurt didn't even register what he was doing. One moment he was sitting and the next he was throwing his arms around Blaine's neck and holding him, clinging to him as if his life depended on it. The scent of his skin was familiar and comforting, and Kurt buried his face in his neck, craving it like he had never craved anything before.

Blaine's arms were immediately around his waist, supporting his weight as if he knew Kurt couldn't trust his own legs right now. He frowned as he held him, and rubbed a circle on the small of his back, soothingly. “Hey, hey… it's okay… just tell me what's wrong…”

How complicated would it be to say he had been horribly scared that he would lose his baby? How could he explain to Blaine, when he was so shook up and standing in the middle of a hospital, that he was going to be a father and that for a moment he had been terrified that his dream was going to collapse? How could he tell Blaine that he had feared for the wellbeing of his baby and its mother when Blaine had no idea they existed in the first place?

He pulled away slowly, reluctantly, and saw a young man standing a few feet away, waiting awkwardly for Blaine. “Who is he?” Kurt asked in a soft voice.

Blaine looked over his shoulder for a second, but his eyes were back on Kurt in a flash. “He's one of the guys I train. I accidentally punched him in the nose. He's lucky it isn't broken…”

Kurt tried to smile politely and step away from the circle of Blaine's arms, but he realized he didn't have the strength to do it. “I'm glad he's okay…”

“Are you?” Blaine asked, his hazel eyes very intent on Kurt's face.

“Yes,” Kurt replied, and forced himself to smile this time. “It was just a scare.”

Blaine seemed to have realized he wasn't getting a more elaborate explanation out of Kurt, because he simply nodded, even though he didn't look happy about it. “Good. Well, I…”

Kurt's fingers tightened on Blaine's clothes without his permission. His body didn't want to let him go, even though Kurt knew it was a bad idea to hold on. He tried to breathe normally, but it was shaky at best.

The boy finally approached them, looking at Kurt warily, before talking to Blaine. “I'm gonna go. You can stay with your friend.”

“Are you sure?” Blaine asked. “Your nose…”

“It's fine,” the boy waved him off. “It looks like you're needed here.”

Blaine licked his lips and looked back at Kurt, who was still holding him in the most desperate way. “Okay,” he agreed at last. “I'll see you. Take care, Tony. And I'm sorry, again.”

“Don't worry about it,” Tony smiled and then simply turned around and disappeared. Blaine's focus was now entirely on Kurt.

“Come on,” he muttered softly. “Let me take you home.”

Kurt knew it was a bad, very bad, terrible idea. He should have said no. He should have forced himself to get his shit together. He should have pulled away from Blaine and walked away before it was too late.

But when it came to Blaine Anderson, Kurt always did the stupidest things.

“Okay,” he accepted, and buried his face in Blaine's neck again.

*

The ride home on the cab was silent. They were looking in opposite directions, but their fingers were intertwined on the seat between them. They both knew it was best to put some distance and avoid touching each other, but it was like their bodies had a mind of their own, and simply seek for what they needed regardless of how it could affect them.

Kurt reacted quickly enough to pay the driver before Blaine did when he pulled over in front of his building. Blaine held the door opened for him and wordlessly walked him up to his apartment, this time finally managing to keep his hands to himself. Kurt twisted his keys between his fingers nervously. He wanted to fill the silence, but he lacked the appropriate words for it.

They stopped at Kurt's door, but Kurt made no move to go inside.

“So…” Blaine began to say, quite awkwardly. “I guess you won't tell me what happened and why you were at the hospital…”

Kurt shook his head and looked down at the floor. “It's… complicated. But it's over now and everything's fine, I promise.”

“Okay, well, then I should…” Blaine said, and made a vague gesture with his hand, beginning to turn around.

“I've missed you,” Kurt murmured before he could stop himself.

Blaine's eyes shifted to him, wide and confused, and so freaking beautiful. “Kurt…”

Kurt finally wanted to say a million things – he wanted to apologize, to tell Blaine that he was not fucked up, that he was the most wonderful man he had ever known, that Kurt had been so cruel and undeserving of Blaine's time and sweetness. He wanted to tell Blaine that there hadn't been a single day since their break up that he hadn't thought of him, that he hadn't wished he was sitting on the couch next to him while he worked, that he hadn't woken up and reached for him only to find the other side of the bed empty and cold. He wanted to tell Blaine a million things.

He kissed him instead.

Kurt had no idea what he was doing. It had been an emotionally draining day and he wasn't sure how to function anymore. He simply moved forward, cupped Blaine's face in his hands and planted a sweet, lingering kiss on his lips.

Blaine gasped in surprise, but their mouths slotted together perfectly, like puzzle pieces, and his arms were soon enveloping Kurt's waist and pulling him closer. God, it felt right. Kurt felt as if he had been wandering around a desert for weeks, and finally found an oasis in the middle of a beige, monotonous landscape. He wanted to stay in the shade of Blaine's arms and drink from his kisses until he was satisfied.

It was Blaine who ended the kiss, pulling away slowly as if coming out of a dream that was hard to let go of. When his eyes found Kurt's, he seemed confused and relieved at the same time. But then he looked away for a moment, and took a deep breath, before slowly disentangling himself from Kurt.

“Are you sure you're okay?” He asked, and his voice had that raspy quality that always drove Kurt crazy in the darkness of their bedrooms.

“Yeah,” Kurt nodded. “Blaine, I…”

“I have to go,” Blaine said, and did his best to smile genuinely at Kurt. “Take care, Kurt. I hope whatever happened is all better now.”

Kurt wanted to say a million things. But he once again said nothing, and simply let Blaine walk away from him, while his lips tingled with the fresh memory of their last kiss.

*