CHAPTER SEVEN

March: London (Part 1)

"Sometimes I really hate that you're a flight attendant." Kurt said, huffing in annoyance over the phone and hoping that Blaine didn't think that he was mad at him.

"I'm really sorry." Blaine replied, for the hundredth time during their conversation. "It's a twenty-four hour shift and I'm pretty much back and forth all day with no break in between. I hate letting you down."

"Where did you say you were going again?"

"London. I've actually never been before, it should be fun. Not that I'll get to see much of the city while I'm there, unless I can somehow bribe my boss to let me have a few days before coming back." he explained.

Kurt hated this. With Blaine working such a busy job, they barely had time to spend together via the phone or video call, or even to meet up in a mutual spot in the city so that they could see each other face to face. When the only way you could meet was in an airport on your way to a distant location, things started to get annoying.

On the plus side, this difficulty reminded Kurt that, oh, he had a boyfriend now and he sometimes had to pinch himself hard to check that he wasn't dreaming. He, Kurt Hummel, had an actual, proper boyfriend. One he could see himself actually going somewhere with other than the bedroom. Not that he would know much about that side of things, because he and Blaine hadn't done.....that yet.

There was a pause in which Kurt was almost a hundred percent sure that Blaine was thinking about something.

"You know....." he started, swallowing loudly on the other end of the phone. "You could always come with me."

"What?!"

"I said, you should come with me. We'll go away together, for a weekend or something. It'll be like Rome, only better."

Rome. The place where it had all started, for real. Kurt flushed at the memories that reached the forefront of his mind, felt that same rush of adrenaline and excitement.

"I don't think I'll be able to, Blaine." Kurt said with deep regret. It was true - his work commitments were almost as busy as Blaine's and finding extra time to go away would be near impossible. But still......he could try, he couldn't he? It was always worth trying.

"I wish you weren't so busy." Blaine sighed.

"I wish you weren't so busy." was the reply.

"Okay." Blaine suggested. "How about we make a compromise? We'll both try and get time off work. I'll see if I can get a few days in London, and you'll see if you can get time off to come with me. We'll both at least try, and if it doesn't work, then we'll work something else out. Sound good?"

It did. It really, really did. It sounded perfect, actually, and Kurt wanted so badly for it to work.

"Sounds good." Kurt agreed, using all the strength in his body to sound optimistic. The truth was, he'd been feeling a little down lately and the possibility of being able to see Blaine again - and not through a computer screen - would certainly be the antidote he needed to lift his spirits. "I'll see what I can do."

"Great!" Blaine said cheerfully, and that alone made Kurt feel better.

Even after three weeks, the feeling was still new and raw and Kurt was still getting used to the idea that, after five months, he and Blaine finally had a thing. Was it a thing? He thought. Is there another word for it? I wouldn't call it a relationship.....definitely not. We're not there yet, whatever 'there' is supposed to be.

His eyes strayed to a photograph on his nighstand. He knew it had been risky putting it there, but what else could he do? The photograph showed him and Blaine in front of the Trevi Fountain, taken by a passing tourist who'd said that they were 'a lovely couple'. The comment had made them blush and giggle like little girls; Kurt remembered it clearly. He'd kept it because.....well, because it was where everything had finally come to a head. He'd have to remember to put it away if Rachel or his parents turned up as they sometimes did out of the blue, because for now, he'd like to keep his new romance a secret. Kurt liked his privacy.

Blaine must have realised he'd gone quiet, because he spoke again.

"Are you disappointed?" he asked.

"In what?"

"Me, for not being able to see you." Blaine said.

"Blaine, don't be silly. Of course I'm not disappointed in you, it's not your fault. It's not something you can control." Kurt replied. Why on earth would Blaine think that he was disappointed in him? The very idea was ridiculous.

"Really?"

"Really." Kurt assured him. "I don't blame you, not in the slightest. We'll make it work."

"You know, I haven't seen your apartment yet. I don't even know where you live." Blaine said unexpectedly, an edge of mischief in his voice.

"Blaine Anderson, what are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that I actually get to see where you spend your time when you're not at work." Blaine replied, light and suggestive.

"Nuh-uh. Not in your dreams, Blaine. Not yet. I'm getting it redecorated soon, you can see it then."

"Aw!" he protested. "Not fair, Kurt. I sent you a picture of mine last week."

"I didn't say I was going to be fair." Kurt smirked.

"You're smirking, aren't you?" Blaine asked.

Kurt choked on air.

"How do you do that? It's like you're reading my mind or something!" he exclaimed. "That's like the third time you've done that now."

"I told you I have a sixth sense."

"Sure."

"I do!"

"Now you're just embarrassing yourself."

"Like I said." Blaine said. "You're one of a kind. I wish all my passengers were like you." A pause. "Then again, going by what we did in the shower that one morning, maybe that's not such a good idea....."

"Blaine!" Kurt spluttered. "You can't just-just go around broadcasting stuff like that!"

"Why not? Nobody's here to hear me, except my dog Henry, but I doubt he understands human English."

"You have a dog?" Kurt asked. Of course he has a dog. I bet he's great with all manner of small, cute animals. "I didn't think most landlords allowed pets."

"They don't, but I managed to make an arrangement with mine. I've had Henry since I was nineteen. He's really dumb and costs me a fortune in dog food, but he's great company when you need it." Blaine said. Then he chuckled, and added, "And now he's just climbed into my lap looking for affection."

"I'm a cat person, myself. Don't get me wrong, I love dogs, but I like that cats have this air of superiority about them, like they're untouchable." Kurt said.

"Cats are evil." Blaine stated.

"Dogs bite."

"Cats scratch."

"There is nothing wrong with cats." Kurt said. "They are perfectly decent pets."

"Everything is wrong with cats." Blaine argued.

"Maybe you haven't met the right cat, then." Kurt told him.

"I love how easy talking to you is." Blaine said softly. "It feels like I've known you all my life."

"Same here." Kurt replied. "I don't even know how to describe it.....it's quite something, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. It's something, all right. I'm so glad I met you." Blaine said sincerely. Kurt knew that he meant every word, because it was the way that he felt, too.

"So am I." was his reply.

********************************************************************

As Kurt had known, bartering for time off work - even a measly weekend - proved to be very, very difficult. Don't they know I'm Head of Department? Twenty people work for me! He thought viciously as Victoria came to relay a message that his supervisor had yet to schedule vacation hours for him. How can I not have vacation hours to spare? I've barely had a vacation for three years, apart from when I went to Rome! I've been stuck in this office!

But he didn't want to let Blaine down, not at all, and so he kept trying. He wanted to spend a weekend in London with his new boyfriend - who, if he asked nicely, would probably get him discounted flight tickets (but of course he wasn't in it for the air mile discounts, it was so much more than that - and that's what he would do, come hell or high water.

He took his work schedule and salary data home with him and pored over it at night whilst eating take-out Chinese food (he hadn't been in the mood to cook) and ignoring any calls that displayed the caller ID Rachel Berry. Forgive him for being rude, but he wasn't in the mood to discuss which type of flower would make her look the prettiest as she walked down the aisle.

Eventually, he found something he could work with.

"Aha!" he exclaimed, leaping up from the sofa in victory. "I am entitled to weekend vacations in any European country at least twice a year. I knew it!" He was so glad, he felt like doing a little jig right there in his living room, but didn't in case somebody was watching. (They weren't, but he was paranoid).

This was perfect. And they couldn't even argue with him about it because it was written right here in his employment contract! Kurt Hummel: 1, Vogue: 0. Don't get him wrong, he loved working for Vogue, even more than he ever would have loved working on the stage or screen as an actor, but sometimes it was, well.....frustrating. Like now. But fortunately, that had been resolved and he couldn't wait to grace Blaine with the good news.

He called him that night.

"Guess what?"he asked.

"What?" Blaine said, curious.

"What were we talking about the other day about going to London.....?" Kurt prompted excitedly.

"Don't tell me you managed to work something out?" Blaine asked, his voice taking on that happy, excited edge that Kurt loved.

"I may have." Kurt teased, determined to keep his voice even, though it was a struggle.

"Oh my God, that's great!" Blaine all but shouted, and Kurt had to laugh at his exuberance. It was one of the things that had drawn him to Blaine when they had first met on that flight to Paris nearly six months ago now; his energy, and how he had so much of it.

"I know! I found a loophole in my contract that said I was allowed a vacation in a European country twice a year at the minimum and I haven't taken either of those vacations yet, Rome was covered by another part of the contract, so I'm free whatever weekend you please to come to London with you." Kurt explained, relishing the way the phrase felt on his tongue.

To come to London with you. To come to London with you. To come to London with you. To come to London with you. Wherever he placed the emphasis, it gave him a delicious thrill to hear it said out loud.

"That's great, I was-I was hoping you'd be able to. I mean, I didn't want to get my hopes up, well, I did, but I didn't want to be disappointed, not that I'm disappointed in you.....fuck, I'm getting this all wrong again, aren't I?" Blaine stumbled over his words, cursing himself when the words didn't come out right.

"No, no you're not." Kurt said gently. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Blaine. You're doing great. We're both new at this."

"Well, that's not really true for me......I was in a serious relationship before but - but it didn't end so well." Blaine confessed. "At all."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. D'you mind me asking.....why, or is that too personal for a three-week anniversary?"

"No, it's fine. But.....but I think I'll leave that story for another day, if you don't mind." Blaine said.

"Of course." Kurt said softly. "I understand." And he did. He wasn't just saying that to placate Blaine, he really, really meant it. They had all the time in the world to learn everything there was to know about each other. There was no need to rush it. They didn't have to.

"Thanks. Not a lot of people do." Blaine replied.

"You can't have met anyone worth keeping around, then." Kurt noted. I mean, if you aren't willing to understand and respect someone's personal situation, why bother? It was something of a personal issue for him, having gone through a period of bullying and crippling isolation during high school. None of his so-called 'friends' had seemed to care; none of them really understood what he had been going through all that time. He could relate to the way Blaine felt.

"Not until now, I haven't." Blaine said, and Kurt bit back a smile. He really was too nice for his own good.

"You're too nice, you know that?" Kurt said.

"I do my best." Blaine replied. "It's part of the job, I can never turn it off."

"True. Nobody wants a grumpy flight attendant ordering them around."

"Exactly. We have pretty high standards, you know. Not just anyone can come off the street and be a flight attendant. It's an art."

"So, Mr Flight Attendant with really high standards, have you managed to negotiate a vacation yet?" Kurt asked the burning question; the reason, really, why he had called. But of course, it wasn't the only reason. He loved hearing Blaine's warm voice, whether on the phone or in person. I bet he can sing really well with a voice like that, he thought absently.

"Unfortunately, no. My boss can be pretty rigid with the schedule but I'll keep trying." Blaine promised. "But only for you." If Kurt could have seen him, he probably would have winked at that last part. Kurt felt a little weak-kneed just thinking about it.

"Only for me? I feel privileged." Kurt said, pretending to swoon but then realising that Blaine couldn't see him. He went pink, and then realised that Blaine couldn't see that, either.

"Oh, I think you should be." Blaine replied, their serious conversation turning back to playful and teasing; easy-going, simple, the way Kurt always felt that he could talk with Blaine. "It's you I like, it's you I'm with. There's nobody else I'd rather go to London with. It's a given."

It's you I'm with. Just hearing the phrase made Kurt's skin tingle in a totally not unpleasant way. He would like to experience that feeling more often, he decided.

"Even if I'm with a hundred other passengers on the same flight?" Kurt asked.

"Even then." Blaine assured him. "I promise I'll have it all worked out in a few days."

"I'll hold you to that."

*******************************************************************************************************

As it turned out, it didn't even take a few days for Blaine to have everything sorted out.

The very next afternoon, whilst Kurt was in a (very important) staff meeting, his cellphone rang. His fellow co-workers stared at him for a few moments while the dulcet tones of the ring tone reverberated throughout the conference room. He had the urge to snap at them, What are you looking at? But he bit his tongue and fished his cellphone from the bag next to him on the desk.

Caller ID: Blaine.

"Sorry, I just really have to take this. Emergency." Kurt excused himself from the room and shuffled out as quickly as he could without looking a) suspicious and b) like an idiot. Once outside, he quickly pressed Receive Call and put the phone to his ear.

"So?" he asked excitedly, hovering on the balls of his feet but trying to curb his enthusiasm in case someone spotted him.

"I worked it out with my boss and got three days off to spend at my leisure." Blaine announced, rather proudly, on the other end of the line. "Which means, of course, that I can now officially ask you to come to London with me. So, Kurt, will you come?"

"You really think I would say no?" Kurt said.

"A gentleman always has to ask." Blaine replied. "It's good manners." Kurt went a little pink at that, although he knew Blaine couldn't see him. I feel like I'm in a Victorian romance novel, he thought giddily. And it doesn't feel corny or cheesy in the slightest.

"Then I must say that yours are impeccable." Kurt commented, aiming for flattery. It must have worked, because Blaine laughed and Kurt imagined him ducking his head in embarrassment, a habit Kurt had noticed he had when someone complimented him. "When are we leaving?"

"Next weekend, Friday to Sunday, after my last shift." Blaine said, and Kurt felt a pleasant swooping in his stomach.

"I can't wait." Kurt said, and he meant it. "I'll actually have something to look forward to except Chinese food, sorting out the department payroll and listening to my crazy best friend complain that the lighting isn't right in her chosen wedding venue so that if the sun hits the windows at a certain angle, she'll look jaundiced."

Blaine snorted. "Really?"

"Yes, really. You have no idea. Be thankful you've never met her. Sometimes I wish I hadn't." Kurt replied.

"Oh, come on, you don't mean that." Blaine said. "I'm sure she's lovely."

"She's a nightmare."

"Maybe I should give a second opinion."

"No way. I plan on keeping you as far from Rachel Berry as possible. Well, soon to be Rachel st James."

"I'm sure she won't be pleased to hear about that." Blaine said.

"She'll survive. She's overcome worse." Kurt said curtly, with an air of finality. "So, next Friday?"

"Next Friday." Blaine confirmed. Is that smugness I detect? Kurt thought. I don't care, it's cute. Wait, did I just think something a guy did was cute? Oh God, I really am in too deep. The last person I thought was cute was Finn, my stepbrother. But this is so much more than that ever was.

"You're thinking too much again." Blaine noted, and Kurt once again felt as though Blaine could read minds.

"Blaine!" Kurt protested. "You said you'd stop doing that!"

"You love it."

Yeah, Kurt thought, I do.

"Right, I gotta go, okay? You kind of interrupted an important staff meeting and I need to get back in there before everyone gets suspicious." Kurt said quickly, taking a glance through the small window in the door of the conference room to see if his co-workers were getting restless. He'd been gone too long already and was very self-conscious of that fact.

Even if getting to talk to Blaine was completely worth it.

"Oh, sorry, I wasn't aware you were busy.....I mean, I knew you must be at work but I didn't think. I'll call at a better time next time." Blaine apologised.

"Oh, no, believe me, it wasn't a very exciting meeting." Kurt said quickly. "I just won't give the best impression, that's all. I can always make it up to them later, anyway. As long as the March issue's done on time, they don't really care what anybody does."

"I'll take your word for it. I was never into all of that high-flying fashion journalism stuff."

"Okay, I really gotta go, so I'll see you on Friday, okay? I'll wear something noticeable so you can see me." Kurt said. "Maybe a donkey costume or something."

"I highly doubt you would wear a donkey costume." Blaine quipped.

"I'm going now, Blaine." Kurt said, glancing through the conference room window again. They are going to kill me for this.

"Alright, alright. Bye. I'll see you soon. Bye."

"Bye." Kurt replied.

"Bye."

"Stop saying bye!"

"Okay.....bye."

"Bye."

Kurt pressed End Call, feeling strangely elated. He had plans to write in his diary and he would rather die before he forgot them.

Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic. But he would curse himself for all eternity if he let himself forget that this weekend - this weekend! - he was going to London. For three days. With Blaine. Who just so happened to be his secret (for now) boyfriend.

This was going to be perfect and Friday couldn't come fast enough.

In fact, the days seemed to drag on slower than usual. He went to work, he yelled at a few people (he was allowed to do that now, he had his own team of workers and he was obliged to yell at them from time to time), and got Victoria to do everything that he didn't have to do himself. Yes, he was being a little lazy; but budding love could do that to you, right?

Wait, did I just think budding love? Is this love? He thought. Is it too early to tell?

He put the thought into the back of his mind for now, not wanting it to be a distraction. Yes, he really liked Blaine; yes, he was looking forward to their impending 'city break', if that's what it was called. But it didn't mean that he was ready to admit that yet. Certainly not. It was far too early for that.

They'd only been together for three weeks.

And so he got on with his days and counted down the rest until he could see Blaine again with all the enthusiasm and giddiness of a 13 year old girl with her first boyfriend. Sue him if he was happy.

But he would never admit to anyone that he'd stuck a piece of paper on his desk at home and drawn a makeshift calender on it marking the days until he left. That would just be embarrassing.

The wait was endless and infuriating. Not for the first time in his lifetime, he wished he had the ability to make time to faster, or at least own a time machine so that he could fast-forward the mundane and get to the part he really wanted to see. It was like watching a movie that you weren't that interested in, but you went to see it anyway, and now you just keep waiting for something exciting to happen that'll catch your attention because, up until now, it's been pretty boring and uneventful.

Pretty much like the latest Batman movie that Rachel had forced him to watch because she had, at the time, a crush on Christian Bale.

More often than not, Kurt would catch himself staring into space at his desk or on the sofa in his apartment, looking at nothing in particular, his mind far away. Or rather, his mind was in a particular place, but one that he didn't wish to repeat in case it got out that he was using company time to fantasize about the things he and Blaine might or might not do in London.

At night. In bed. In the shower. Even, once, in a public bathroom, which had both thrilled and grossed out Kurt, who had never thought his fantasies would extend to such....sordid scenarios.

Of course, he wouldn't be telling Blaine about any of this. He'd rather keep that to himself, thank you very much. The last thing he wanted was to scare him off.

One of these such days was Wednesday. Kurt had never liked Wednesdays; he found them meaningless and unproductive, the mid-week mundane. It was the half-way point between Monday and Friday and Kurt had always thought that they were pointless. It was the time of the week when everything and everyone became sluggish, eager for it to be the weekend so that they could kick back and relax and re-energise for the following Monday.

Which was why he was currently reclined on his sofa in his pyjamas at 7pm, half-watching Project Runway and letting his mind run riot with the thought of everything that was to come on Friday.

He never thought he'd end up looking forward to getting on an airplane as much as he did now. He almost felt as though he was becoming un-Kurt-like, if that was even something that could happen. Maybe it was true when people said that you change when you meet someone you'd like to change for.

Oh God, I really am in too deep.

He was jerked out of his reverie by the sound of the buzzer on the door of the apartment, meaning that somebody wanted to come in. Grumbling irritably, he heaved himself off the sofa, paused the TV and crossed over to the door. He pressed the buzzer.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"It's me." A small, sniffling voice said on the other side. "Rachel."

Oh, for goodness' sake. Can't she do anything without consulting me? He thought, attempting to repress his annoyance in favour of friendship and a show of solidarity.

"Come on in." he said, unlocking the door and holding it open for her. But what awaited him was not something he could ever have expected.

Rachel was standing on his doorstep shivering in a drenched trench coat, her hair in disarray and copious amounts of mascara smeared around her tiny, watering eyes. Kurt's previous annoyance evaporated on sight of her, small and defeated, and his protective instincts immediately took over.

"What happened?" he asked, with as much concern as he could muster. "Why are you all wet?"

"Jesse locked me outside in the rain." she sniffed pitifully, hugging her arms around herself. "We had a fight." She looked around the apartment hopefully. "Can I come in?"

"Yes, of course, sure." he said, putting an arm around her waist - not even caring that she was soaked to the skin - and guiding her inside, closing the door behind her. He put her on the sofa the way you would handle one of those creepy porcelain dolls that had always freaked him out as a kid, before going into the kitchen to put on the coffee maker.

"Wait - how did you get here?" Kurt called from the kitchen counter, over the sound of the coffee machine heating up noisily. I'll have to get a new one sometime, he thought, this one is driving me crazy.

"I walked." Rachel said, blowing her nose loudly on a tissue from the box Kurt kept on the little table next to the sofa.

"You walked six blocks? In the rain?" Kurt's mouth dropped open in shock, unable to believe that she'd come all that way in the heavy downpour.

"I didn't know what else to do. I didn't have enough money for a cab." she explained. "So I just.....walked."

Kurt heaped coffee into the coffee maker and put a mug underneath the spout with a little milk. He got out a second mug and put it aside to make his own coffee later.

"What did you and Jesse fight about?" he enquired, as casually as possible; he was frustrated that Rachel had ruined his perfectly enjoyable evening, but he also cared about her and tried to hide his disdain for her fiancé as much as he could.

"Something silly. Stupid stuff, really. He suggested we sing about it, can you believe that?" she snapped, blowing her nose again. Yeah, actually I can, Kurt thought to himself. It sounds like something he would do.

"What about the wedding?" Kurt stirred Rachel's coffee in quick, circular motions, adding a little cold water so that it wouldn't be too hot. Rachel turned to him with huge, wide eyes.

"You don't think he'll postpone it, do you?" she asked tearfully, her lower lip trembling in an almost comic fashion, but Kurt decided it would be rude and insensitive to laugh at her given the current situation.

"I'm not really the right person to answer that, Rachel. I don't know." he shrugged, bringing her the mug and putting it in her shaking hands. She brought it close to her face and inhaled deeply, took a tiny sip. "Good?" he asked, referring to the coffee.

"Yes, thanks." she sniffed. Normally he would crack a joke, albeit a sarcastic one, about the way she looked when she cried but he didn't think that this was the time. Kurt gave her a tiny smile, but she did not return it. He made his coffee and sat down next to her on the sofa.

"Do you need to stay here tonight?" he asked. "You can, if you want. It's just me here so you won't be bothered."

"You really don't mind?"

"Of course not." Kurt insisted.

"Then I'll stay here, if that's okay. I don't have anything with me though......" she began, but Kurt put up his hand to silence her.

"You can borrow something of mine. It would be a first to say that I let a girl wear my clothes." At this, Rachel laughed a little and this made Kurt feel better. At least she's stopped crying, he thought. That's a good thing, right?

Whilst Rachel finished her coffee, he busied himself with finding spare blankets and a pillow she could use as a makeshift bed. He regretted that he had only one bedroom and that it was reserved for his own use only; he didn't really want to put Rachel on the couch, but what choice did he have? He also found her an old pair of sweats that he would forcefully deny he ever owned that she could swear as pyjamas for the night. He normally slept in them in the winter when the climate in New York became bitterly cold.

Kurt was coming back into the living room with an armful of blankets and the pillow and clothes balanced on top when he stopped dead.

"What's this?" Rachel held up a piece of paper. Or rather, the piece of paper on which he'd drawn his fake calendar with the days marked until his trip to London. There were only two days left on it unmarked. "Are you going somewhere?"

Well, the cat's out of the bag now. I knew I shouldn't have left that lying around where people like Rachel could see it. Kurt was torn. Did he tell Rachel, or did he not? He knew what would happen if he did. She'd freak out and tell everyone, and then they would freak out, and then Kurt would get the Spanish Inquisition by way of a hundred and one phone calls from said 'everyone'.

But he supposed it was too late for all of that now.

"I'm going to London on Friday." Kurt confessed, putting down his pile on the floor at Rachel's feet.

"Alone? Kurt, you really have to start meeting people, it's just depressing when you're spending so much time on your own-" Rachel started, but Kurt cut her off sharply.

"I'm not going alone!" he blurted out. A smile sneaked across his face. "I'm going with someone."

"Like a boyfriend someone?" Rachel asked curiously, suddenly forgetting her own despair in exchange for hearing gossip about Kurt's love life. Typical Rachel.

"Well...yeah." Kurt admitted, biting his lip. Might as well let everything out, now. She'll find out anyway. If it was possible, Rachel's eyes got even wider.

"Who is he? Do I know him? What's he like? How long have you been seeing him? And, most importantly, why on earth did you not tell me? We're supposed to be best friends!"

"You don't know him." Kurt said quickly. "And we've only been together for three weeks."

Cogs seemed to be working deep inside Rachel's head and her brow was furrowed the way it was when she was thinking about something. The intensity in her eyes was recognisable anywhere. Oh, no.

"Didn't you go to Rome three weeks ago?" There it is, Kurt thought. Shit.

"Yes......" he decided to approach with caution; he hadn't expected her to catch on so quickly given her current state.

"Oh my God!" she gasped, actually leaping off the couch with the force of her own realisation - I didn't even know that happened in real life - "You went to Rome with this guy! Or did you meet him there?"

"Something like that." Kurt said, trying not to give anything away. Well, it was a half-truth - he did meet Blaine there, but he didn't 'meet' him there. He already knew Blaine when they'd ended up in Rome together at the same time. It was just a happy coincidence.

"That's not answer, Kurt. I need details!" she enthusiastically patted the spot on the couch next to her. "C'mon, Kurt, I'm in a state of heartbreak and need cheering up!"

Kurt rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Rachel had more mood swings than a bipolar pregnant woman.

Deciding he might as well give up trying to fight her on it, he sat back down and wondered where to start.

"Remember I told you about Blaine?" Kurt began, watching her tear-stained face closely for a reaction.

"The flight attendant?"

"Yeah, him." Kurt said. "Well, I told you that he kissed me, right?" He really hoped he wouldn't have to spell it out for her. So much for my own privacy, he thought.

"Wait, don't tell me......you went to Rome with him?" she shrieked, practically in his ear, and he jumped back a bit out of the range of her dulcet tones.

"Not exactly." Kurt allowed himself a grin. "I bumped into him there and we went out and things sort of......happened."

"Like sex?" Rachel gasped again, and Kurt pulled a face.

"What? Rachel, no, nothing like that! We just cuddled!" Kurt implored, feeling his face burning with the implications of Rachel's comment. "But we may have been in our underwear."

Rachel squealed.

"Alright, alright, that's enough kiss and tell." Kurt said, picking up the pile on the floor. "Go get changed and I'll make you up a bed. I'm sorry I don't have a guestroom you can use, so it's the couch, I'm afraid."

"That's alright. My dads made me sleep on an old potato sack once when I was eleven and refused to go shopping for new ballet shoes because I wanted a pony instead." Rachel said.

"Right......" Kurt said, then pointed at her ferociously. "Get changed. Scram."

When Rachel disappeared into the bathroom, Kurt sat back against the sofa and let out a huge, long sigh. "What am I going to do with you, Rachel?" he murmured to himself.

While he waited, Kurt checked his cellphone. No new messages. He had to admit, his heart sank a little. He had expected - no, hoped - to see something from Blaine. He had a habit of sending random messages at all hours of the day, things like How are you?, I wish I could be with you and You have a really nice laugh. There were others that were less cutesy and romantic, however, and more towards the seductive. Those, he liked best.

He flicked to his photo album and came up with a photograph of him and Blaine. They were at the entryway of the Roman Colosseum, their arms around each other. Well, one arm in Kurt's case - the other was extended in front of them, to take the picture. The light from inside the ancient monument shone on their twin smiles.

It was the photograph of two people who had been together for months, maybe even years, not three mere weeks. But oh, did Kurt feel as if they'd been dating for that amount of time. It felt amazing, if he was honest with himself.

Suddenly remembering what it was that he was supposed to be doing, he put his phone aside and set about making up Rachel's bed. He put two of his best pillows on one end of the couch and draped two blankets across it, meaning to be a mattress of sorts to cover the uneven surface of the couch cushions, and added another, thicker one on top. It was a winter blanket, really, but without the heavy warmth of a duvet, Rachel would get cold out here in the living room.

Once that was done, he patted the blankets smooth and fluffed the pillows as much as he possibly could, biding time until he could disappear into his bedroom and sleep away the night until there was one less day to wait until he'd see Blaine, until he'd be with him.

Later that night, he heard his bedroom creak open. Light from the living room spilled in through the open door and he saw Rachel standing there, timid and swamped in his borrowed clothes, looking pale and forlorn.

"Kurt?" she called quietly. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah." he replied, sitting up and running his hands through his hair. "Are you okay?"

"N-not really." she said. "I'm just so used to sleeping with Jesse b-by my side and now that he's not h-here....."

Kurt half-smiled in the darkness, pulling back the duvet. "Get in, then." He nodded in the direction of the space next to him.

Within seconds, Rachel was sliding under the duvet by his side and burying herself against his side, the way she used to when they shared a bed back when they were still living together, before Kurt got his promotion and decided he should get an apartment of his own. He had to admit, he'd missed it a little. It was like having a cat, but a lot bigger and human.

Not that he'd ever tell her he'd thought of her as a cat.

"I'm really glad you're my best friend, Kurt." Rachel said almost happily as she burrowed down, pulling the duvet up to her chin.

But, as he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help remember the last person he'd done this with, and how different the circumstances had been.