Whenever Kurt had very briefly and non descriptively mentioned his UK holiday home, Blaine had always imagined it in a very certain way.

Like for example, a quaint idyllic cottage hidden amongst trees and pines cones, in the middle of a southern countryside on the outskirts of London. It would have one bedroom with an adjoining bathroom and a tub hardly big enough for one person. They would cook in a tiny kitchen with a scratched oak dining table and a real log fire crackling away on an old dusty hearth. Two pairs of muddy boots would be leaning up against each other by the old heavy front door, ready to slide back into to go for their daily evening winter walk. A pitiful looking real Christmas tree sagging over in a small compost pot, due to the heavy weighted glass ornaments.

That sort of thing.

It's not because of money or anything of the like, god knows that Kurt is wealthy enough to own a whole forest full of log cabins. It's just the way that Blaine pictures it in his head, when he thinks about it. Like that place in that movie, the one when they swap homes over the holidays, one in England and one in the states.

He also for some reason always imagines it during the winter, with its gravelled yard painted with snow and frost. Kurt would make mulled wine on the burner and some old black and white movie would be showing on a fuzzy old TV with a battered unit.

The decision to visit the holiday home had been one made rather swiftly and surprisingly mutually. As always it was like Kurt had managed to pluck the thoughts right out of Blaine's head, and after a stressful week of upkeep after the new range's launch night Kurt had surprised Blaine with the suggestion of taking some days off and getting away for a bit.

Word and pictures and many, many videos had spread of Blaine's set at Kurt's event, and between the two of them they couldn't decide who was in more demand. Blaine had had to cancel some appointments and meetings from their diaries just because of last minute interviews that Kurt had been offered to help publicize the cause of the line.

And of course wherever Kurt went, Blaine followed, naturally.

Blaine had allowed the manic haze of the week to pass, he answered questions, he ignored some, he smiled, he posed and he remained very honest and true to himself.

The gig was just a one off experience, because Kurt had asked him to do. He enjoyed it very much, and would consider doing something similar for Kurt and his campaigns and endeavours, however Blaine's main focus now was to take a back seat from the spotlight and concentrate on what happens behind ‘the performance.'

And of course Kurt, Kurt is always a main focus, in more ways than one.

And so on the terms of ‘de-stressing' a trip was booked, although the duration had been a question left open and though Blaine knew they were going to England, Kurt had remained very tight lipped about any other details.    

After hours of driving from the car rental place at the airport, when Blaine had lost track of the many winding roads and rolling hills, as dozens among dozens of trees flew past the window- Kurt finally slows the car to an almost stop and turns onto an almost invisible turn, leading up and through a secluded driveway.

Eventually they approach a spacious graveled parking area, next to a double garage with bright white electric doors. Kurt pulls up and parks right in front of a very large, like super large, detached beige and grey stone-brick building, with a brownish red tiled roof that seems to go on for miles.

They get out the car silently, when Kurt looks over at him from the drivers side, grinning and pulling on the door handle. When Blaine follows him he notices that they're surrounded by immaculately maintained flower bedded gardens, pebble stone pathways with a wooden decked patio area that Blaine can tell stretches right around the side of the house to the rear.

Kurt opens up the trunk of the car, loading himself with bags, completely oblivious to Blaine standing there with his mouth hanging open, taking in the surroundings.

This isn't a cottage, not even a house. This place is a mansion.

“It's a converted Barn and old farmhouse.” Kurt says, interrupting his thoughts, as if reading his mind, like he somehow always seems to be able to do. “There are live cattle in the fields over there, so don't expect to get too much sleep while we're here.” He adds smiling, as he pops up from the trunk with their luggage, reaching up to close it.

The front yard backs on to fields among of fields of lush greens and burnished golds, crops and corn and yellowy white fluffy lambs skipping after their mothers. With broad galloping horses whinnying and chasing each other in the distance, and cows mooing to one and other conversationally as they graze.

Blaine opens up his lungs and inhales deeply, the rich smells of earth and grass, pollen and produce, thick unfiltered fresh country air filling him up from inside out.

This place is amazing.

Blaine helps Kurt with the bags and follows him over to the large stone arched entry way, Kurt doesn't reach for a key he just leans forward and pushes the door open, a rich mahogany wood with stained glass window panels.

There's a note placed on a little side table in the entry hall by a fancy lamp. Kurt drops the bags by his feet- Blaine follows his lead- and picks up the note, reading it aloud, in a funny posh sort of accent.

“Mr Hummel,

We're so glad you're back. Welcome.

I do hope that you will enjoy your stay here, and have found everything the way it had been left many years ago by your pristine effortless standards.

My cleaning staff have whipped around, as quickly and efficiently as possible and taken care of most chores on your behalf  (turned down the beds, restocked the kitchen etc… so RELAX.)

 I also hope that you find your requirements down in the basement substantial? I'm afraid that your requests were a little extravagant for such short notice, but where there's a will, there's a way.

You know where I am if you need anything. And John too of course, he sends his love and I'll try and tell him to keep the tractor further down hill, you've came to here to get away from all of that city noise after all.

P.S Hello Mr Anderson, I look forward to meeting you one day, hopefully.

Warm regards,

Sandra… and John.”

Kurt smirks and folds the note back where it was, turning to Blaine who is smiling back.

“Sandra is the farmer's wife, such a sweet old couple, with not an ounce of fashion sense or any idea of who I am. I bought this place from them and converted it. They live down the lane and Sandra has helped me look after this place whenever I'm not here, which has been a long time.”

“She knows about me?” Blaine decides to blurt out instead of all of the other sensible things and curious questions he could have chosen from. Kurt gives him a look, and then tries to redirect his shy smile somewhere else.

“Of course she does.” Kurt tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, and Blaine has the almighty urge to lunge forward and pull it back out with his own.

And the best thing is, that he can. But the teasing sexual tension starting to simmer just below the surface is just too good to not keep playing at it for a short while longer.

Instead Blaine places his hands on his hips, whistles as he looks around. Kurt smiles at him amusingly, slowly stepping towards him.

“What? Don't tell me that you're more impressed with this place than our home back in New York?”

Our home. Of course it's their home, technically it has been from the beginning, but now it seems to have a new meaning. Hearing Kurt talk like that never fails to make Blaine melt and quiver deliciously.

“Come on,” Blaine starts teasingly, “Look at this place, yes the condo is amazing, but Kurt, I've never been anywhere like this before. We're in England. London baby.”

Kurt laughs at Blaine's terrible Austin Power's impersonation and closes the gap between them, resting his hands on Blaine's sides.

“Actually, we're in North Yorkshire, Harrogate to be precise, in the North East part of England.” Kurt smiles at Blaine's lost expression. “London is too ‘ordinary' for me, I like to be different. And this place is beautiful.”

“Of course you do, “Blaine laughs, “And you're right it is beautiful here, there's something almost other worldly about this place.”

Kurt sighs and looks around, finally his eyes landing back on Blaine's face. “Yeah, I guess I forgot how much I love it here, I zoned out of how much I actually miss the place. Thank you, for coming with me, for giving me a reason to come back.”

Blaine smiles, wide and dazzling. “You don't need to thank me silly, I should be thanking you-”

“Ok, we could do this over and over or I could give you the grand tour?” Kurt interrupts cheekily, his eyes twinkling. He stands back and gestures towards the staircase behind them, and the array of rooms surrounding it.

“Oh by all means, please do.” Blaine smiles and offers his hand, which Kurt takes in his own in a rather chivalrous playful manner and starts tugging him forward.

For a moment Blaine thinks that Kurt is going to lean in and kiss him, his heart rate quickens and his eyelids flutter closed in anticipation. He can feel Kurt's warm breath against his skin, sweet and scented of the coffee they had at the gas station during the car journey.

After a beat when Blaine doesn't feel that gentle press of Kurt's lips against his own, he opens his eyes to find Kurt close, so close, and grinning at him seductively. Oh, they're still playing.

“Let's start with the upstairs shall we? Let's be unconventional.”

Blaine swallows, his eyes chasing Kurt's lips and throat. “Let's.”

They're halfway up the stairs, Blaine trailing very closely behind Kurt, eyes fixed to his ass (of course,) and his hands glued to his own sides because reaching out and groping Kurt on the staircase could be dangerous, when Kurt feels a gentle prod in his back. He stops mid-step and turns to look down at Blaine over his shoulder, eyebrow raised in a ‘what?' sort of fashion.

“You are too you know.” Blaine starts, soft and quiet, licking his lips, his eyes fixated on Kurt, his mind clearly somewhere beyond the here and now. “Beautiful. Inside and out. Just wanted you to know that.” He finishes quietly, peeking up at Kurt sheepishly through his eyelashes.

Kurt's eyes clear up like crystals, shimmering with blue and gray. A beautiful blush spreads over his cheeks and then very slowly a magnificent smile starts to unfurl. It's one of those smiles that Blaine likes to call hidden or private, reserved just for him, when it's just the two of them.

And then Blaine is suddenly flying up the rest of steps, his hands tightly gripped between Kurt's, and the gorgeous sounds of Kurt's excited giggling filling his ears.

*

Some time later, whilst sporting similar rosy cheeks, half the amount of clothing they were wearing before hand and wild bed hair, Blaine finally gets the grand tour.

The barn-house (as Blaine likes to call it) turns out to be a spacious, very spacious, four bedroom, three bathroom building with approximately four and half acres of land.

“It's situated in this idyllic location between Harrogate and Pateley Bridge, and was converted in approximately 1998.” Kurt had stated as if reading from a text book, whilst taking him in and out of each room.

“I thought you converted it?” Blaine asks, genuinely interested.

“I converted it into a new layout and modernized it with my own personal touch, but the foundations were already there.” Kurt grins, and Blaine can tell that this is something he's genuinely proud of.

“You should consider property development.” Blaine jokes and Kurt lights up.

“There's time yet dear.” He teases and Blaine just wants to drag him back into the bedroom (Master, one of many) and start all again.  

Blaine can't get over the sheer size of the place, and the vast majority of rooms- a reception hall, entrance hall and cloakroom which houses the main staircase, a front lounge, a back lounge, a dining room, a family room with a pool table and darts board, a small study, an overly sized kitchen with state of the art appliances and a walk-in freezer and pantry, a separate laundry room, and lastly a summer house out the back.

Everything is furnished with both modern and old English traditional touches, the walls painted a neutral cream, the carpets to match and the tiles and wooden floor boards light and natural.

Oddly Blaine suddenly imagines himself, in the future, many, many years ahead, rocking in one of the hand crafted wooden chairs in the back lounge whilst looking out of the French double doors, out into the meadows and rolling hills.

He suddenly feels calmed and awakened, a little like he felt when he first met Kurt. It's the kind of feeling that tell him he's found something that he didn't even know he was looking for.

“Why don't you just live here?” Blaine blurts out, whilst Kurt is straining a tea bag into a copper kettle in the kitchen. They stayed in here for a quick pit stop before continuing around the grounds.  Blaine is seated at the island opposite, face in his hands as he stares at Kurt and listens to his little anecdotes about the place with a fierce look of fondness and desire in his eyes.

Kurt looks taken aback at the question at first but continues bobbing the teabag on the little string into the boiling hot water a few times before pulling it out, settling it on a little china dish and pouring the liquid into two mugs.

“I um, I guess it was never an option really. Why do you ask?” He says, approaching the island with both mugs, sliding one over to Blaine and resting a hip against the counter's edge.

“How so? And because this place is amazing and tranquil and lovely, and I know the rough times you went through and this place is like a weekend spa/rehab facility.”

Kurt giggles a little bit, and Blaine's glad of the sound. He blows across the surface of his tea and says, “I guess I was just always too busy to leave New York, no matter what sort of funk I was in, that's how so. Or I guess I thought I was.”

Blaine nods, sips from his mug. “Why did you buy it then? Why did you buy somewhere like this, so far away if you were too busy to actually come here?”

“Stupidity, stubbornness, ego inflation, defiance… because you're right, and this is so very far from everything else, and that I needed to know that I had an escape, even though I didn't use it.”

Blaine doesn't really know what to say, he knows how difficult that may have been for Kurt to open up about, so he doesn't say anything, just nods his understanding, flashes a smile and raises his mug back up to his mouth.

Kurt catches his wrist before he can do so and says, and almost whisper, “This place is awfully big for just one person, and even though I felt more alone in the company of a room full of others, I just knew that I couldn't taint the feeling that this place gives with pain and regret and sadness. I knew I would enjoy coming here one day.”

With that Kurt quickly leans in and plants a loud wet kiss on Blaine's mouth. Blaine's lips chase Kurt's for more before Kurt pulls away smiling triumphantly.

“A-and were you right? Did you prove yourself right?” Blaine asks, his eyes slowly coming back into focus, his voice a little hoarse and rasped. Kurt swoops back in and kisses him breathless.

“What do you think?”

*      

The tour turns into an all day affair, with pit stops and trial outs and refreshment breaks in almost every part of the building and outside areas. By the time they make it outside, its late afternoon and they have with them a picnic blanket and small hamper of sandwiches, chips and chocolate covered biscuits, with flasks of tea and small cartons of orange juice.

Blaine loves being out in the open air, non fumigated air from bright blue skies with birds chirping as opposed to car horns blaring and people yelling. With his bare toes curling into the cotton of the tartan patterned blanket next to his discarded shoes, and the feel of Kurt's fingers carding through his hair as he lies with his head in his lap.

The warm yet still a little cool English sun pours down on them whilst they spend some time just enjoying the peace and quiet, in the middle of a grassy field with a gate connecting them to Kurt's old/new barn.  

What would it be like for him, for them, to just do this, to be here everyday and not have to worry about getting in and out of a busy, over crowded city. What would it be like if they could work from here, if there was somewhere here in the depths of this enchanting new little world Kurt has introduced him to, where they can carry on? Carry on working and being together, in all ways, with no boundaries or worries or fears, just them at their own leisurely pace, doing what they what and when they want, with each other.

Kurt leans down and brushes his lips against Blaine's forehead. “Mmm, great idea.” He says and Blaine frowns, momentarily panicked. Was he thinking aloud? “Coming here.” Kurt adds, noticing the confused expression on Blaine's face. “It was a great idea coming here, I hope this becomes a habit.”

Blaine nods, smiles sheepishly, accepts another kiss and then settles back down into the warmth of Kurt's stomach and thighs.

One day, he thinks. Maybe one day. Hopfully.

* 

As the tour of the house grows to a close and they head back inside, Kurt pulls Blaine back into one of the reception rooms and over to a downward leading staircase in the corner. It's almost hidden, blending into the room with cozy carpeted flooring and cream painted wooden railings.

“The basement?” Blaine guesses, lips twitching as they descend.

“You're a clever one.” Kurt quips playfully from in front of him, he doesn't bother turning around but Blaine can see his cheeks widen with a smile as he squeezes their joined hands together a little tighter.

Kurt pulls a dangling ceiling cord as they reach the bottom and they are suddenly surrounded by warm yellow light from cute little electric wall sconces and a fancy wooden chandelier. The room looks like any other in the house, light and neutral with carpets and paint and the inviting smell of vanilla and cinnamon from a plug-in air freshener, but it's smaller down here, like a little snug box room, deep down and intimate. The perfect space really.

Because of the small size Blaine's eyes immediately land on the upright beech wood piano over by the far wall, where there is a tiny window up above near the ceiling.

His whole face lights up and it doesn't take him long to put two and two together.

“Let me guess, your requirements?” Blaine asks, facing Kurt with a quirk of his lips and shining eyes. Kurt simply shrugs, not quite looking at him and gestures over to the far corner where there is an acoustic guitar propped up against the wall, and a sort of chaise longue type chair beside it.

Opposite there is a small desk with a lamp, and a chair stationed underneath the lip, next to that what looks to be some sort of pop-up recording booth. Blaine glances around and finds lots of musically themed electrical equipment, strategically placed. His brain clicks into action as he watches Kurt stride over to the chaise longue and sits down, running his fingers over the tassels hanging from the beige satin cushions.

“K-Kurt, I uh-what-”

“I thought- I hoped that you could use this room, you know whenever you wanted it, however you wanted it. It's yours.”

Blaine stares at him in fond disbelief. Why does Kurt never stop surprising him? How obviously yet obliviously in sync they are, is amazing.

He wanders over to Kurt and sits beside him, taking his hand and folding it between both of his in his lap.

“Kurt, I don't know what to say.”  He says honestly, his voice a little low and tight, like he's trying to hold back the wave of emotion in his throat. His eyes are dark down here, shining with thanks and reverence and about a million other things.

“So don't.” Kurt says. “You don't have to say anything. Look you don't even have to use this room while we're here if you don't want to, it's just that I wanted you to know that you can, and it's here and it's yours.”

Blaine smiles, rubs his thumb over the back of Kurt's hand and leans in, pressing his lips softly and sweetly to Kurt's. Of course he'll use the room. He doesn't know what for yet, apart from obvious jam sessions. Ok he maybe has an idea but what's baffling him is that he doesn't know what Kurt expects him to use it for.

They hadn't talked, about it. About Blaine's revelation and almost break down over the fact that he didn't want to pursue a career in singing or performing anymore. With the string of interviews and busy scheduled appearances after the launch night there was hardly any time to, but Blaine wasn't worried. Kurt had made it perfectly clear that he understood Blaine's worries' and had taken on board the fact that he wanted to further his career in a slightly different path.

The kiss carries on long and slow until they're breathing through their noses so deep that they have to pull back and gasp for air. Their faces are still close, eyes still boring into each others when Kurt starts speaking, almost rasping.

“I know we haven't talked about it, you and what you want to do, you know for you.” The intensity sizzles between them and Blaine just wants to grab him, push him down on to his back on the long seat and kiss him over and over, hard and firm. But he knows better, there is time for that and Kurt has something he needs to say to him, and Blaine needs to hear it.  Kurt continues.

“But we don't have to talk about it. You never have to ask me permission for anything, I trust you to make the right decisions for you and as part of your employment with the business. You take whatever time you need to, do whatever you want to do, as long as I still have you. As long you still fill with me coffee and cookies, and tell me what to do and let me feed your cat with chicken scraps,” Blaine laughs, his eyes shining. “As long as I still get to go to sleep beside you and wake up to the sounds of your snuffling, and exchange glances with you in the conference room that only you know how to interoperate. And know that I'll help you with anything you ask me to. Here, or New York, or anywhere, I will support you, and I-I'm just so proud of yo-”

Blaine can't take it any longer, he pushes Kurt side ways until he falls back onto the chaise longue. Blaine moulds himself over the top of him and kisses him from neck to chin, jaw to cheek, nose to forehead and back again. Rubbing and panting and writhing.

“Thank you.” He whispers into Kurt's skin over and over between peck and suck and nibbles.

“One more thing,” Kurt murmurs, “Stop saying thank you.”

Blaine grins, ducking back down, his hands already working against the fly of Kurt's jeans. “I have a condition.” He says.

“Oh?” Kurt thrusts up into Blaine's hands.

“Jes is our cat now, not just mine.”

*

It turns out that the trip lasts for roughly around five days, Thursday morning to Tuesday morning.

In that time Kurt and Blaine have managed to christen most surfaces of the house as appropriately possible, binge eat their way through many movie marathons, enjoyed a brief exhibitionist streak during a wine filled evening and had even managed to make the tabloids without being in the country.

“New York's finest power couple appears to have vanished from our city for a mystery getaway. The destination and duration is unknown but sources reveal that Kurt owns property over in Europe. Watch this space and pray for pictures of our favorite business mixed with pleasure couple.” Santana had drawled in her best scandalizing impression during a Skype check-in session.

“Oh how exciting for them, we've left the country.” Kurt had retorted dryly, eyes rolling, to which Blaine had squeezed his arm comfortingly.

And then there were the texts, many from Sam to Blaine, explaining how bored he was and how much he missed him. He'd decided to spend the free time that Kurt had granted him, going back to Lima, but their ‘bromance' had apparently gotten under his skin and Sam had found himself pining over his friend. And Kurt of course.

“Jealous?” Blaine had asked, an eyebrow raised and a cheeky grin on his lips, as he lay sinfully naked spread out one morning in their English bed, whilst he and Kurt read their texts and emails.

Kurt had merely tutted, “Jealous, pfft, I'll show you jealous.” He muttered and then covered them both with the large downy soft duvet, causing Blaine's phone to drop from his grasp and roll to the floor.

The message from Burt to Kurt had been the one that had really made them smile.

Dad;

Sam appeared on my doorstep this morning, complaining that you have stolen his friend off to some English hide out. Come on Kurt, I raised you better than that, you must share!

Seriously kid, hope you're having fun over there, and make a date in September free, it's yours and Blaine's turn to visit us. Love dad x

On Sunday evening Kurt and Blaine had been invited to dinner over at Sandra and John's place down the lane, and what a lovely, eventful evening that had been. John had spent most of the night trying to convince Kurt to buy some livestock from him, and Blaine thought Sandra was pretty much going to kidnap and adopt him. 

On the morning of their departure, Blaine has just placed the last of their bags in the car and comes back into the house looking for Kurt. He's sad to leave this place but knows that they'll be back, he just knows it.

It's weird because he has loved being here and away from that ‘other' life, but he does actually miss it. He's excited to get back to work, pull up his sleeves and dig his claws into something. To start what ever it is that he's now ready to start with Kurt by his side.

Blaine calls out to Kurt, stepping through the house, knowing that it's a lost cause in such a large building, but is surprised to hear a response in the way of music. Piano music.

Blaine's feet carry him through to the lounge housing the secret staircase leading downstairs and as he slowly and quietly descends the steps the piano chords hit him, striking deep and powerful, vibrating through his bones.

The playing is obviously not as well honed or skilled as Blaine's but it's getting there, its still super impressive and Blaine relishes in the fact that his one-on-one sessions have obviously paid off.

And then there's the voice. Kurt's voice, Kurt's beautiful dramatic, lovely counter tenor voice filling Blaine in the most haunting yet ethereal way ever.

And Blaine recognizes the song almost instantly, it's an old chart hit, a favorite classic ballad with the most powerful meaning. The lyrics home in on Blaine as he stands at the base of the stairs and watches Kurt play and sing, silently, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest.

“Guess its true, Im not good at a one-night stand
But I still need love cause Im just a man
These nights never seem to go to plan
I dont want you to leave, will you hold my hand?

Oh, wont you stay with me?
Cause youre all I need
This aint love, its clear to see
But darling, stay with me

Why am I so emotional?
No, its not a good look, gain some self-control
And deep down I know this never works
But you can lay with me so it doesnt hurt

Oh, wont you stay with me?
Cause youre all I need
This aint love, its clear to see
But darling, stay with me”

It's over so quickly, over before Blaine can actually process that Kurt has stopped, has stood up and is approaching him slowly, his eyes piercing like glass diamonds.

“I was hoping you'd find me down here,” Kurt says quietly, coming to stand just in front of him. “I was too chicken shit to ask you to come, but I'd knew you'd hear, that you'd come.” He reaches forward and takes hold of Blaine's hand. “That was a gift me to you, here. I felt like I wanted to share something with you, and present you with something.”

Blaine pulls Kurt's hand up to his chest, tugging him closer and splaying his fingers over his heart. He gapes back at Kurt, obviously choked up. Kurt continues.

“That-that song, reminded me of you, of us, so much, back when-during Christmas and New year and stuff, you know?” Blaine offers a shaky smile, nods. “It's the truth, only now it's clear to see that it is love, and clearly back then I was just to dumb to admit it.”

“I love you Kurt.” Blaine breathes, because there is simply nothing else important to say.

“I know, and I wish I had of let myself know it back then. I love you too. Duh.”