The next two weeks were a blur of finalizing details and approving budgets. Blaine applied for the needed permits and his crew got working on prepping the house for the major work. All the furniture—except for one bed, one chest of drawers, and the horrible old couch and chair that Kurt was only too happy to leave to be ruined by sweaty construction workers using them on their breaks—was removed and put into storage and the despised gold carpet was ripped up and carted away. Kurt knew bigger changes were on the horizon, but honestly the removal of all that synthetic fiber from the house was probably going to end up being his favorite accomplishment of the entire renovation.

Theyd agreed that they wanted to preserve as much of the original house as possible—just spruce it up and make it modern enough that a family would love to live there. They would be knocking down one wall upstairs to combine the two smallest bedrooms and would be gutting the kitchen and the two and a half baths (though Kurt was quick to ensure that his now beloved bathtub would be saved and reinstalled).

To make it easier for Kurt to remain in the house, Blaine had shifted the schedule around so that they would initially work on getting one of the upstairs bathrooms done to the point where it could be used. After the ceiling was repaired, the walls re-plastered, and new crown moldings installed, Kurt would be moving in there while work was done in the master bedroom.

Because Blaine was going out of his way to get the project up and going so quickly, he hadnt had a lot of free time, which meant that the stolen moments they were able to find over blueprints and cost estimates were all the more precious. Theyd been able to sneak in a lunch here and a dinner there and Kurt had stayed the night three times, but it wasnt enough and he was looking forward to when the work would begin in earnest and Blaine would only be needed in an advisory capacity.

Kurt made plans to return to New York for three days just as construction was set to begin. He savored his last day with a working kitchen by baking several dozen cookies and fresh bread that he planned on leaving out for the crew the next morning. Hed only met a few of them when theyd come in to strip out the carpet, but theyd seemed nice and he knew they probably worked up quite the appetites at work.

After the last batch of double chocolate chip were pulled from the oven and left to cool on wire racks, he re-packed his clothes into his large pieces of luggage and moved the bags into the small bedroom that would be his for the next five months. He then headed off to stay at Blaines for the night before going into Seattle the next day to catch his plane.

=^..^=

When Kurt returned four days later, it was to a different house.

He opened the door to the sound of power tools and hammering and the smell of construction dust hanging in the air. He sat his carry-on bag at the base of the stairs and looked around, noting that the newly liberated hardwood floors had been covered up again, this time with heavy tan colored canvas. He dodged a couple of tool boxes and a ladder on his way to check out the kitchen, which had been gutted and was now just a big empty room with pipes and wiring poking out of the walls.

He heard the sound of Blaines voice filtering down from above, so he followed it up the stairs. He passed by the smaller bathroom and poked his head in, nodding with satisfaction at the gleaming new fixtures. The walls were temporarily painted white and the tile and flooring would be put in later, so wouldnt be appearing in Better Homes & Gardens anytime soon, but Kurt was up for roughing it for a while. Voices again filtered in from down the hall, this time joined by a chorus of sharp banging noises, so he hurried back towards the master bath, eager to see Blaine again.

He stopped dead in the doorway as he took in three sweaty men, each clad only in jeans and damp white undershirts. One guy was chipping away the tile from the back wall, while another was cursing with his head hidden below the sink cabinet. He let his eyes skip over them clinically. They were in great shape and normally would have been a reason to stop and linger, but he was too interested in the third guy in the room to pay them much attention. Blaine stood with his back to the door, smashing at a wall with a sledge hammer. Each time he raised the hammer up the muscles of his arms and back flexed and pulled. Kurt felt a physical reaction each time he made contact.

He stood there quietly for a minute until he started to feel a little creepy. "Hey guys," he called out softly, not wanting to startle anyone while they were using dangerous tools. "Id offer you some refreshments, but it looks like some disaster has befallen my kitchen."

Blaine set the sledgehammer down at his side and wiped an arm across his forehead as he grinned. "Kurt! Youre back! Perfect timing. We just finished the other bathroom a half-hour ago." He walked over and kissed Kurt gently, making sure to hold his sweaty body angled away.

Kurt looked at the other men quickly, but neither reacted to the kiss. They just greeted him politely and told Blaine that they were going to punch out for the evening.

Blaine nodded absently as they picked up their tools and got ready to leave. "Good work today guys. Ill see you tomorrow bright and early."

Kurt waited until he heard the sounds of heavy boots hitting the stairs before he grabbed Blaines shoulders, forcing him back against the only intact wall in the room. He kissed him hungrily for a few moments before sliding his lips down Blaines chin to his neck, the salty tang of sweat filling his senses. "Ive never been one to go for the sweaty construction worker clich�, but god, Blaine…" he managed to get out while running his tongue over the hollow above Blaines clavicle that was exposed by his skimpy shirt.

"Is it the sweat or the drywall dust that does it for you?" Blaine asked, his voice an intoxicating mixture of amusement and arousal.

Kurt shook his head. "I dont think I can even describe the way your muscles looked when you were swinging that…that…"

"Sledgehammer?" Blaine filled in and Kurt nodded before going back in to attack his neck again. "So you like my big tool, huh?"

Kurt snorted against Blaines shoulder. "Oh yes, youve got such a big tool, baby. Show me how you use it," he said seductively in a breathy Marilyn Monroe-esque voice, before ruining it with another burst of laughter.

Blaine twirled until their positions were reversed and Kurts breath caught in his throat at the sight of Blaines blown pupils and flushed cheeks. His amusement faded and he hungrily pulled him back in for another kiss.

=^..^=

"I know its not really my place to have an opinion, but if you plan on ruining my amazing renovations with that wallpaper I think Im going to have to charge you double."

Kurt looked up from the truly ghastly wallpaper pattern hed been staring at (seriously, had anyone ever ordered the cream colored paper with a nightmarish black and purple design that looked like a Rorschach test? If so, he never wanted to meet them. Or visit their house) to smile at Blaine, who was standing behind the chair he was curled up in, his arms balanced on the back as he leaned in to look at the book of wallpaper samples Kurt held on his lap.

"What?" Kurt teased. "But its so classic and striking." He wasnt sure if he should be offended that Blaine even thought for a second that he would consider the stomach-turning design.

Blaine looked at him in dismay. "They look like bruises. Itll look like someone has been beating your house, Kurt."

"Fine," Kurt huffed as he closed the book and set it on down beside him. "If you were going to pick wallpaper what kind would you go for?"

"I like the more subtle stuff. Stripes and small patterns."

"Stripes, huh?" Kurt reached out to run a finger along the black and red striped bow tie Blaine was wearing. "Color me amazed."

Blaine smiled sheepishly. "Hey, at least you cant say I dont know what I like." He reached out to rub one of Kurts shoulders and Kurt closed his eyes for a second and stretched like a cat. "I know youve got a lot of design decisions still to make, but I was hoping youd play hooky with me today. The guys are going to be stripping the crown molding, so itll be noisy in here and its the first day it hasnt rained in a week, so I was hoping we could get out, grab some fresh air."

"What did you have in mind?"

=^..^=

Blaine slipped the car into park and undid his seatbelt before reaching into the back seat to grab his camera. The large white administration buildings of Fort Worden lay behind him and the parade grounds stretched out in front, with the stately Victorian officers houses far across the grassy expanse. Hed been to the state park, which was Port Townsends main tourist attraction, other than the town itself, once before, but it had begun to rain soon after hed arrived, so hed never made it down to the beach or to any of the other areas he wanted to see.

He walked around the front of the car to open the door for Kurt, who was peering up doubtfully at the military buildings.

"Are you sure you wouldnt rather go see the Astaire and Rogers double feature playing at the dollar theater?" Kurt asked as he slid his feet out and stood up.

A breeze caught the edge of Kurts scarf and sent it flapping, so Blaine grabbed it and smoothed it back down into place over his chest. "Come on. The sun is…" he shot a look up at the only partially cloudy sky, "kind of out and spring is in the air. The movies can wait until the next downpour. Ive really been wanting to take some pictures down at the beach and theres this cistern up on the hill thats supposed to have amazing acoustics. Please? For me?"

Kurt gave in gracefully and took Blaines arm in his. "Those Victorians across the way do look very interesting. Maybe Ill get some decorating ideas."

"The officers lived in those houses," Blaine explained, looking down at the guide map hed picked up at the park entrance. "Theres a museum in one of them we can visit."

Kurt nodded as he looked up at the large building before them, tilting his head as if trying to puzzle something out. "This place looks really familiar."

"Have you seen An Officer and a Gentleman?They filmed that movie here."

Kurt stopped in his tracks and squinted at the big field theyd parked next to and the houses on the other side. "How have I been here for a month and a half and not known that?" He lifted his hands, taking Blaines with them, up to this chest and sighed. "I remember my mom always watching that movie when I was a kid. When Richard Gere picks Debra Winger up at the end and sweeps her away from her life of toiling in the factory? Pure heaven. That movie was single handedly responsible for any and all men-in-uniform fantasies I had growing up."

They bypassed the main military museum in favor of the officers house museum, then, with Blaines map to guide them, they hiked up a grassy road to the hill above the fort until they finally came across a small group of people gathered beside a hatch covering an opening in the ground. Blaine approached the group and found out that they were musicians who were about to record a song inside the water cistern that hed heard about.

Park rules required that someone remain outside whenever anyone went into the cistern, in case of emergency, so Blaine asked if he and Kurt could go down inside while the group waited on top for their recording equipment to arrive. After getting their agreement, he and Kurt climbed down the cold metal ladder into the huge concrete space that was peppered with pillars holding up the ceiling.

"This place is famous for its acoustical reverberation," Blaine explained as they prowled around the room. "Forty-five seconds, or so they say." Hed wanted to visit the space ever since hed first read about it while during his research on the town that would be his home for a year. He always enjoyed playing tourist and finding little known places, but when hed learned about the number of musicians over the years who had come to the cistern to record songs hed felt a tug in a part of himself hed thought long buried.

"Hmmm….we should test it. Do you sing?" Kurt asked as he peered towards the black edges of the cistern not touched by the light coming in through the single opening.

Blaine thought for a minute before moving to the center of the room. He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes before jumping right to the chorus of a song that had been stuck in his head for several days. He reached the end and kept his eyes closed, caught up in the amazing sound of his voice echoing around him. He felt a stir in the air and his eyes fluttered open to find Kurt standing just inches away, looking at him in awe.

"Well, I guess that answers two questions. You can definitely sing and the reports of this rooms acoustics have not been exaggerated. I bet thats the first time anyones sung any Tom Jones down here."

"You should try it," Blaine urged him. "Its amazing."

The left side of Kurts mouth quirked up in a smile, a not-quite-a-dimple indent appearing in his cheek for just a second. He lifted a finger up to his chin and tapped it there repeatedly, his eyes flickering back and forth as he considered what he should sing. Blaine watched him run through his repertoire of songs in his mind, which he knew was probably extensive, given that Kurt had initially studied musical theater in college. Finally, he took a step back, gave a tug on the bottom of his lightweight sweater to pull it smooth, and stood up incredibly straight, his posture suddenly making Blaine feel like a self-conscious hunchback.

When Kurt began to sing, Blaine immediately recognized it as Bring Him Home from Les Miz. Hed started towards the end of the song, so he didnt have long to go before he reached the famous long high note at the end. The pure, clear sound of Kurts voice wrapped around him like a warm cocoon and for a moment, Blaine considered how it wouldnt be wholly unpleasant if the lid of the entrance suddenly closed for some reason. Hed seen a box of flashlights at the base of the ladder and knew that he and Kurt would find some way of occupying themselves until help arrived.

Fortunately, his wild fantasy didnt come to pass and the opening to the cistern remained wide open. Blaine snapped a few photos of Kurt singing and when the last echo had finally faded away he gave a wild round of applause. Kurt dipped down into a low curtsey and they headed back to the ladder. Kurt went first, teasing Blaine about the peculiar off-center way he clapped during the whole ascent.

When they reached the top, they thanked the musicians for the short-term use of the space and then walked down the hill, towards the beach.

As they got to the sand, Blaine grasped Kurts hand again and they set off for the lighthouse that could be seen far in the distance at the bend in the coastline. The sun was shining from behind the light clouds just enough to ensure that they were comfortable, even with the wind coming in off the water.

"I know people complain a lot about the weather here," Kurt said as they picked their way over a pile of driftwood, "but its kind of nice for those of us who are pigmentally challenged."

"Pigmentally challenged?" Blaine laughed as he squatted to pick up a purple and white swirled shell.

"Freakishly pale, Caspers long-lost cousin, blindingly white, tan resistant, freckle prone Whitey McWhiterson…" Kurt listed off.

"Luminescent, glowing, radiant…" Blaine countered, unable to listen to Kurt put himself down, even if he was joking.

Kurt bumped Blaines shoulder with his and smiled. "I like your list better, I must say."

"How did you deal with those hot, humid Ohio summers if youre so anti-sunshine?"

"All the things I loved to do—performing, sewing, writing my latest British royalty based musical, fashion blogging, vintage clothes hunting on the internet—were distinctly indoor activities. Every year my dad would drag me out camping for a week—which I always suspected was some kind of passive-aggressive tit-for-tat for the murder mystery nights and cooking lessons I subjected him to—and Id complain and complain, but we always ended up having a great time, despite my having to use up an entire bottle of 100 SPF sunscreen."

"I didnt even know sunscreen came in 100 SPF," Blaine said in amazement, trying to remember if hed ever used anything above a 30 SPF.

Kurt made a face as if Blaine was a cute little puppy who was trying to scare away a bigger dog with his tiny bark. "Oh, arent you adorable. So much to learn, so much to learn."

They hadnt gone very far before they came across giant concrete bunkers built high up on the beach. Blaine read aloud the passage in the park guide about the numerous pre-WWI artillery batteries built at Fort Worden as they made their way up and started looking around. They climbed several flights of stairs to the top and explored some lookouts and open rooms before descending into the lower levels. Blaine snapped photos of the deserted passageways, rusty doors, and pioneer plants that had made their home in the tiny bits of soil that collected in out-of-the-way corners. He kind of admired those plants. Their seeds hadnt landed in the rich, nutritious soil that lay just hundreds of feet behind them, but theyd made do with what they had and were trying to make a life for themselves, regardless.

They finally ended up in the big round, open space where the biggest guns had once been anchored, looking out over the waves.

"Id have liked to see this place in its heyday," Blaine sighed as he set one hip against the ledge. "All the men in uniform doing their morning marches, coming down here for their duty shifts. I bet it was just like the movies." He raised his chin and saluted. "I would have made a very elegant officer."

"The only way I would have ended up here is if the USO made a stop to entertain the troops." Kurt looped his arms around Blaines shoulders, his fingers playing with the curls on the back of his neck. "It would have been like a Cary Grant movie. You would have been out in the crowd, looking for some distraction from the constant fear of death when suddenly, there on the stage, a vision in blue." Kurt gasped and lowered his voice slightly to imitate Blaine. "Who is that angel on the stage? Where has he been all my life?" Blaine tightened his arms around Kurts waist in response. "You would have been mesmerized by my voice and tried to do everything that you could to meet me, only to see me drive away in the back of a troop carrier, possibly gone forever. You would have pined for me for the rest of the war, hoping to see me in every gin joint and officers club you came across and thoughts of me would have kept you going through each and every battle."

Blaine cleared his throat, the picture that Kurt was painting kind of tugging at his heartstrings. "Um, I dont think they saw any military action here. No battles."

Kurt pressed a finger to his lips and then followed it with a quick kiss. "Shhh…dont ruin it. Im still imagining my marvelous blue suit." He followed up with another kiss, one that wasnt quite so quick.

Eventually, the sounds of someone else walking around the bunker breached the little world theyd created for themselves, so they picked their way down the stairs back towards the beach. The tide was going out, so they went closer to the water to explore the shells being left behind. Kurt was fascinated by the sand dollars and ran ahead to see if he could find any. Blaine followed along behind, enjoying the childlike enthusiasm Kurt showed as he looked for an unbroken specimen.

Eventually, Kurt grew bored with the shell collecting and joined back up with Blaine, tucking their arms back together as they got closer to the lighthouse.

"You never told me you could sing. You have a great voice," Kurt said with a little bit of accusation in his voice.

Blaine felt a pang of something deep in his chest, but didnt let it show on his face. "I wanted to be a performer, once upon a time."

"What happened?"

"Life, I guess." Kurt just kept looking at him steadily, so Blaine continued. "Ive led a charmed life, for the most part. My parents were wealthy and I was always pretty popular growing up. If I wanted something, I usually got it. My smartass friends in high school accused me of living in a "beautiful person bubble," like Jon Hamms character did on 30 Rock." Blaine looked embarrassed at the memory. "You know, where people just gave him things because of the way he looked? He never had to work for anything and so he didnt realize how the world really worked. And they were right, for the most part, though they didnt really know the whole story about what happened in junior high."

Blaine paused there and Kurt made a noise of sympathy, since Blaine had already told him about the problems hed had in school when hed first come out. "I wanted to sing and I became lead soloist for the Warblers, our choir group. I wanted a job performing and I was cast in every summer and holiday production that Kings Island had to offer. I knew that music was what I saw myself doing with my life. I was going to be a star and there was nothing that was going to stop me. Then, during my senior year, just as I began applying to musical theater programs, my father called me into his office one night and pleaded with me to go to business school so that I could follow him into the family business."

They reached the lighthouse and their conversation was put on hold as Blaine took some photos. When he was done, they turned around, this time taking a track that led them up higher on beach. "My father started his construction business the year that my older brother, Cooper, was born and called it Anderson and Sons because he had this dream of building an empire and handing it off to his sons to run when the time came. He and mom had planned on having four or five kids, but it didnt work out that way. It was almost eight years before I was born. Then, when I was ten or so, Cooper declared that he was going to go to Hollywood and become an actor. Dad gave him some money and let him go, but Im pretty sure he always thought Cooper would come back, with his tail tucked between his legs, and when that didnt happen he was devastated."

Kurt remained silent, but Blaine felt his arm tighten around his and it encouraged him to finish the story. "I hadnt really paid much attention to the business, so I didnt realize how much dad had pinned his hopes on me. That night, when he begged me to join the company, I saw tears in his eyes. Have you ever seen your dad cry?" Kurt nodded, pain shining in his eyes. "Then you know that youd do anything to make it stop. I told him Id go to business school and the next day I threw away all my brochures for theater schools and applied to my dads alma mater."

Kurt laid his head on Blaines shoulder. "Blaine, Im so sorry."

Blaine turned and pressed a kiss to Kurts forehead. "Its okay. Im not in love with the work, but then, most people dont love what they do, right? Its a job and Im making my dad proud. Its enough."

"Do you still perform or anything?" Kurt asked tentatively as he dropped Blaines arm and sat down on a log. "Theres community theater if you wanted to do musicals or open mic nights —"

"No, Im too busy for any of that, especially with moving around like I do," Blaine shrugged. "It doesnt matter. It was a stupid dream."

He took a few steps closer to the water to watch a crab scurry in and out of some rocks, but he swore he heard Kurt whisper from behind him "No dream is stupid."