Blaine cushioned his head in that perfect space between Kurt's shoulder and chest, his bent leg wrapped around Kurt's outstretched thigh. “That was great,” he sighed into Kurt's warm skin. “Can we celebrate like that after every performance?”

Kurt chuckled. “Absolutely. I'm well-known for my stamina.”

“Oh, really?” Blaine said, his voice veering low and seductive. He lifted his head and leaned over Kurt, bracing himself with his hands on the mattress on either side of him. “Is that a promise?”  

“If you want it to be,” Kurt said coyly.

Blaine pressed forward and captured his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. “Congratulations,” he said, pulling back mere centimeters, the warmth of Kurt's lips permeating the air between them in the ghost of a kiss. “You were fantastic on stage.”

Kurt looked deep into Blaine's eyes and smiled. “Thank you. It was a pretty good debut.”

“The best,” Blaine insisted. He gently sucked Kurt's lower lip into his mouth, running his tongue across its smooth surface, encouraging Kurt to open up for a fuller, deeper kiss. After a few moments, he broke away and rolled back on his side, propping his head on his hand to stare into those mesmerizing blue eyes. “Can you believe it's been – what – ten months since we moved here? We're going to have to start planning a celebration for our anniversary.”

Kurt smiled, light dancing in his eyes. “I had no idea you were so sentimental.”

“Only when it comes to you,” Blaine said sincerely. He began tracing patterns up and down Kurt's chest and arms, pausing to rub several slow, loving circles along the ragged, shiny scar on his bicep. “Your arm was such a mess under the makeup that day. I'm glad you at least let me wash it our and bandage it up before we left for the shuttle that day.”

Kurt hummed his agreement to the ceiling. “It hurt like such a bitch when you pressed on it. And I was so worried you were going to smudge it and Santana would be able to tell.”

“You really are an incredible actor. You didn't even flinch.”

“Lot's of practice, Blaine,” Kurt chuckled dismissively. “Lot's of practice.”

Blaine continued to massage the scar on Kurt's arm. Softly he said, “You almost fooled me into thinking you sent a look-alike in your place.”

Kurt covered Blaine's hand with his own, stilling its movement. “Really? You never told me that before.”

“I didn't want to upset you.”

Kurt laced their fingers together and pulled Blaine's hand toward his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “And I've always just thought you and I were completely in sync that day. I had no idea you had doubts. I'm – I'm sorry. That must have been hard for you.”

“It was,” said Blaine. “Waiting for all of those days with Santana picking away at me, planting doubts in my head. And then you came and you were dressed so plainly and you acted so strange…”

“When did you figure it out?” Kurt asked.

“Santana was yelling and I was clenching my fists,” Blaine reclaimed his hand from Kurt's grip to act out the memory. “I hadn't cut my fingernails in a while and they left marks on my palms. I was trying to calm myself down and I was rubbing the welts – and that's when I noticed the makeup on my thumb.”

“And you didn't say anything,” Kurt said, impressed.

Blaine shrugged. “I didn't know what the hell was going on. But I realized you must have been covering up the wound and that you wanted Santana and Brittany to think it wasn't you. But honestly, even then I wasn't really sure. It was something you said about not being like bottle caps or ants – ”

“That even androids evolve and have our own memories. That we matter,” Kurt said, remembering. “You taught me that.”

“I know,” Blaine said simply. “And I know that you were saying that for my benefit, not Santana's.” Blaine shifted, resting his head on Kurt's chest. He listened to his heartbeat and inhaled the warm scent of him, his line of vision rising and falling with Kurt's even breaths.

What he remembered most vividly about that night was the palpable fear, forming a ball in his throat and nearly choking him. Not even taking the time to search Kurt's face for clues, he ran for the stairs at top speed, dragging Kurt behind him by their linked hands. They spoke no words in Blaine's apartment as he rushed to clean and dress Kurt's wound and find him a long sleeved shirt to wear under his protective overcoat. Blaine hadn't even texted Tina to say he was leaving until they were in the line to get on the shuttle. He didn't even indulge in a proper breath until takeoff.

It wasn't until they were safely ensconced in their New New York hotel that Blaine scratched out a hurried note on a pad emblazoned with the hotel logo. Is it safe to talk?

Kurt had thrown his arms around him in a tight hug, laughed and lifted Blaine's feet off the floor to swing him around in a circle. “It's safe. We're here and the chip with the listening device is still in Seattle. In fact,” he said, putting Blaine back down with a huff and taking a step back, his hands on Blaine's shoulders, “I planted the device in Carson's arm. Sue thinks he's me, so she'll have no reason to come looking for us.” He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, keeping a firm grip on Blaine's shoulders and shaking them back and forth. “She thinks that I'm still there with her and that we sent you off to Mars with an imposter just to get rid of you.”

“Do you really think Carson can pull it off? Fooling Sue into thinking he's you?” Blaine asked. “She's pretty shrewd. Unless being a good actor is just built into every Nexus-6 of your subtype.”

“No, just me,” said Kurt. “Carson really is more of a journalist, but he has the drive to do anything it takes to get the story. Including acting, blackmail and deceit.”

“But drive can only get him so far if he has no ability – ”

 “He wasn't built with that ability, but I tweaked his mechanics – increased his acting ability, fused my memories into his, that sort of thing,” Kurt said matter-of-factly.

“How did you – ”

“Apparently Burt Hummel's son was an excellent android mechanic. And I have his memories. So I used them.”

“You're amazing,” Blaine sighed, peppering Kurt's face with kisses.

Now, nearly ten months later, Blaine smiles into Kurt's chest, remembering the relief of that moment. And during those months between that night and this one, Blaine had many moments of reassurance that he had made the right decision in moving to Mars to start a new life with Kurt. The ease with which he secured his first gig as a singer in a lounge bar and the modest success he already has experienced in his new career. Kurt's own success, first with small parts in a few low-end productions, and then as a star in a popular play. The joy he experienced when they first toured their new building, buzzing with the happy sounds of people, every apartment occupied. Every time he took Kurt out – to a restaurant, a dance club, or even the hotel room that first night in New New York – and no one even raised an eyebrow in their direction. And there were so many private moments with Kurt – like this one.

Blaine spent a few moments trying to imagine Kurt fitting into his old life on Earth – living in his apartment, keeping a low profile, hoping Blaine made it home alive from his next bounty hunting assignment. His thoughts drifted to Brittany and Santana and he hoped they were doing well. Despite the tension of their last conversation, Blaine felt a kinship with the other human-android pair. He realized that something was puzzling him and he sat up again so he could see Kurt's face as he asked, “Do you think it would have made a difference if Santana knew that it was really you?”

Kurt pursed his lips and nodded. “Santana's a wild card. She's angry and spiteful and jealous of anyone else's good fortune. I couldn't trust her. Or Brittany.” Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but Kurt hurriedly continued. “I mean, Brittany is very sweet. I don't think she harm anyone on purpose. And I think she's really good for Santana – they even each other out. But Brittany's a special, with mental degeneration . Who knows what she might let slip if Sue ever got suspicious and started questioning her.”

“But doesn't it ever bother you that Santana thinks you're an imposter?” Blaine asked sincerely. “It definitely bothers me. And she thinks I'm a cold-hearted bastard who only wanted you for one thing.”

“Well isn't that true?” Kurt teased, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a lop-sided smile.

“Why, you – ” Blaine huffed out in mock anger, grabbing a pillow and smacking it across Kurt's chest.

“Hey!” yelled Kurt, his arm held protectively over his face as he tried in vain to dodge Blaine's repeated blows while he reached behind himself for the other pillow. He managed one good smack of the pillow on the top of Blaine's head before Blaine snatched both pillows and tossed them across the room. He grabbed Kurt's wrists before he could land a blow with one of his flailing arms. Kurt yanked his arms toward the mattress and sent Blaine tumbling on top of him, then deftly flipped them over and kissed him again and again through between their snorts of laughter.

The giggling slowed and the kisses grew less frantic as they both caught their breath. “But seriously,” Kurt continued, as though the pillow fight had never happened, “I don't understand why you're worried about how Santana sees you or me.” He sighed. “I guess that's the difference between androids and people. We don't have to work so hard not to care about what other people think. It's one of our advantages.”

“That would be rather freeing,” Blaine said. After a moment he asked, “Do you ever wonder how Carson is doing?”

“I figure he's doing well, since we haven't heard anything. Though I guess we'll only really know when – or if – his exposé gets published.”

“I still can't believe you were willing to let him do that,” Blaine said. “Especially after you were so careful with Santana and Brittany.”

“Well, it would have been hard to convince him to trade places with me otherwise,” Kurt said with a shrug. “He always wanted to be a journalist. And it's a pretty spectacular story. Androids killing humans and escaping to Earth, bounty hunters hired by the police to kill escaped androids, the Sylvester-Hummel Association colluding with the police to kill or otherwise disable bounty hunters – all in the quest to make a product indistinguishable from genuine human beings? Who am I to deny the world a story like that?” Kurt grinned. “Besides, I wasn't lying when I told you I wanted revenge on Sue.”

“But if that story ever comes out,” Blaine said nervously, “the first thing the Association will do is come after us.”

“I doubt it,” Kurt replied. “After all, he's using my name. Sue is going to think that I wrote the exposé and that you're off gallivanting around Mars with some Kurt look-alike. There's no reason in the world for her to come after us. Now Carson might be in a bit of trouble, but I doubt that will stop him from going after his dream of breaking a huge story like this. Besides, I'm sure his recently acquired acting ability and his quick wit will help him find a way to stay safe.”

“I suppose it's poetic justice,” Blaine said thoughtfully.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I'm sure Sue had no idea that when she gave you the original Kurt Hummel's memories, you would someday use his mechanical knowledge to engineer her downfall.”

“It's downright diabolical,” Kurt said proudly. “What I really enjoyed though was the surgery I did to implant the microchip in him. I had all my tools with me, unlike when I gave myself that abomination.” He indicated the scar, his nose wrinkling in distaste.

“I love that scar,” Blaine said, rubbing it reverently and pressing a kiss to the shiny skin. “It's what helped me realize it really was you.” Suddenly serious, Blaine said, “Kurt? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Kurt said lightly. “Anything.”

“Do you love me?”

Kurt averted his eyes and sighed. “Why are you asking me about that?”

“You just said I could ask anything.”

“So I did,” he said. Kurt stared into the distance for a moment, then said, “I don't think I can feel love the same way that you do, Blaine.” He looked back at him and asked, “What does it feel like to you?”

“Euphoria.”

“Well, I certainly felt euphoria when you did that thing with your tongue – ”

“Kurt,” Blaine scolded. “I'm not talking about sex. I mean that whenever I look at you, or think about you, my heart expands. I feel light on my feet. I feel like I could do anything, be anyone, just because you're with me.” Blaine searched Kurt's eyes. “Don't you understand?”

Kurt stared at him blankly for a few beats too long and Blaine pushed him away, turning over and burying his face in his arms with an exasperated sigh.

“No, no, don't hide. Blaine,” Kurt admonished, jabbing long thin fingers into Blaine's bicep until he lifted his head, his eyes just peeking out over his arm. “Don't I act like I love you?”

“Oh great,” Blaine sighed. “Here we go again with how Kurt Hummel deserves all the acting awards, not just for his incredible debut on New Broadway, but for every waking moment of his life – ”

“Anderson,” Kurt cuts him off.

“What?”

“You have to remember to call me Kurt Anderson. It's safer that way.”

Blaine grumbled into his arms.

Kurt laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “And no, that's not what I meant about acting. I meant that I think of love as an action, not as a feeling. Sharing the same feelings that you do – that's impossible for me. But I can act. Love for me – it's – it's me listening to every draft of every song you write and trying to provide kind and honest feedback every time. It's me coming to all of your shows, even when I was tired from my rehearsals and had to get up early the next morning. It's me literally ripping my flesh apart to protect you from Sue Sylvester.”

Blaine blinked back the threatening tears and quipped, “Well, that one you did mostly for yourself.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Of course I'm going to act in my own self-interest. And in my own self-interest, I picked you over all those other guys.”

“Other guys?” Blaine asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I had been planning my escape for a long time,” Kurt said.

“You had other opportunities?”

“Of course,” Kurt said. “I've even had a guy outright ask me to run away to Mars with him. He asked when I had the chip in my arm and I knew Sue was listening in, so I had to say no. But it wouldn't have worked anyway.”

“Why not?”

“He wasn't you.”

Blaine frowned. “What does that even mean?”

Kurt bit his lip and looked out the window for a moment, before fixing his gaze back on Blaine. “It means I needed the right person. It wouldn't have done me any good to come all the way to Mars with someone just to be treated like chattel. I needed to find someone who I could get along with reasonably well.” Kurt grinned wickedly and added, “someone I found attractive.” His paused, and his grin melted away. He stroked Blaine's cheek slowly and reverently, as though his very skin was the most precious treasure to be found on two planets. “Most importantly, I needed to find someone who saw me as a person – an equal.”

“We talked about memories,” Blaine said slowly, “at the hotel in San Francisco.”

“Yes,” Kurt said, searching Blaine's eyes. “You told me that I matter.”

“You do,” Blaine said softly. They kissed, a slow and gentle exploration of lips before breaking apart to gaze into each other's eyes.

“Blaine?”

“Yes, Kurt?”

“I'm so glad it was you.”