Kurt looked around the spacious, luxurious apartment. Rachel's dear zayde had left it to her, being her daddies' only child. The walls were painted in blush pink, with light violet on the feature wall. A giant gold Star of David was hung over the fireplace. Posters and signed playbills of Rachel's favorite musicals were hung in the walls in golden frames: Wicked; West Side Story; Fiddler on the Roof.

"This isn't an apartment," he said softly and sweetly. "It's a palace." There was an edge like the snap of a whip to Kurt's voice, reminding Blaine of a cornered, and yet still majestic lioness. Kurt didn't belong in the captivity of the maze of streets that made up New York city, but in the wide open spaces and opportunity a safe and comfortable home could provide. Blaine wondered what might happen if everyone could see what he saw; that the homeless truly needed a home. So much of the world's ills could be fixed. Blaine, as much as he fixed people as best he could, was just one man. But he could start here. With Kurt.

"Rachel's worked hard to make this place so homely," Blaine said faithfully. "Well, her two dads assist with maintenance, but it won't be that way forever. They're just giving Rachel a helping hand so she can devote her time to college and to her volunteering." Looking at Kurt, whose mouth was still wide open in awe at the beautiful apartment, he placed a palm on Kurt's arm, gentling him. "She might not be able to cook, but she's still a good person."

"I'll take your word on it," Kurt murmured, reaching up to play with the ends of his scard. "So where's this closet?"

"Over here!" Blaine began to walk past Rachel's bedroom. "It has two entrances," he explained to Kurt, pulling on a golden handle to reveal the innards of the walk-in closet. There was a huge display of trophies at the back from the pageants and competitions Rachel had won, clothes hanging on all sides arranged by color and cut, a treadmill and a drum kit, as promised. It was lit by soft ambient spotlights, with plush carpet underfoot and the walls painted forest green.

"Wow." Kurt gasped, his soft pink mouth falling open. He peered around Blaine, taking in everything. "Are you sure this isn't an extra bedroom?"

"It used to be, and so it becomes again," Blaine said, and Kurt laughed. He tentatively began to wander further into the closet.

"And you're sure I can stay here?" Kurt asked, spinning on his heel like a whirlwind of energy to face Blaine. "I don't feel like I … belong." Blaine noticed that Kurt was holding himself in, not touching anything, and was self-consciously rubbing at a dirt stain on his hand.

"It's fine," Blaine said. "And you'll feel better once you get a chance to raid Rachel's closet. She has too many clothes," Blaine said with a wink.

"You can never have enough clothes," Kurt said seriously, then grinned. "But from what I've seen of her style, you can have too many of Rachel's clothes. I wish I still had my old wardrobe …"

"You miss it, right?" Blaine asked. "All of it?"

Kurt paused a moment, breath gusting out, eyelashes fluttering. Then his face became like steel. "Of course I do," Kurt snapped. "Who wouldn't? To go from being a real person to some piece of dirty trash on the street."

"You're not trash," Blaine said earnestly. "You are a real person. Just … a real person who's been caught up in unreal circumstances. As for the dirt … we have a shower, so that's an easy fix." He smiled hopefully.

Eventually, Kurt smiled back. "Um. Well, may I borrow a towel?"

"They're in the linen closet across from the bathroom. Knock yourself out, with that and any of the products you might need. My razor and loofah are the blue ones, feel free to use them if you like." Blaine gestured down the hall. "I'll get started in here, making things more livable."

"Thank you," Kurt said, and his words seemed to carry the weight of the world coming from his high yet heavy voice. The meaning was clear, and it made Blaine's heart thump. He smiled even wider, and once Kurt had disappeared into the shower he dragged Rachel's treadmill into her and Finn's bedroom, as they had room, and pushed Finn's drumkit underneath Rachel's array of hung-up sweaters - if he wanted to practice, he could move it to the living room. For the trophies he moved some from the bottom shelf up to the top, crowding the effect a little but leaving room for any of Kurt's belonging. Then he set up an air mattress from his, Rachel and Finn's incredibly disastrous camping attempt. (It was like the episode of Sex and the City where Carrie and Samantha went up to the wilds of New York state and complained a lot, with Finn and Blaine following them as the too-eager boyfriend. Blaine laughed at the memory, shaking his head.)

Blaine heard the shower running for a long time, but knew that there was enough hot water for all of them to shower several times over. When Blaine heard the taps creak to a halt, he smiled, shaking out the comforter and placing it on the air mattress with two fluffy pillows from Finn's side of the bed. (Blaine was sure Finn wouldn't notice them, or wouldn't miss them if he did; sometimes Finn even said he preferred to sleep on the floor, or the couch.)

"Hi," Kurt said, softly. Blaine's had gathered some of his clothes. A pair of his most comfortable sweats, and a shirt Kurt should to be able to fit into without too much room left over. He walked into the closet with a billow of fresh shower scent (he had used Blaine's shower gel, Blaine realized with a strange feeling, not Finn's) and clutched a towel modestly up around his chest, leaving his skinny, bruised yet smooth legs on display. Blaine gasped at the sight. Kurt was so much thinner than Blaine could have imagined, and the number of scars on Kurt's beautiful, milky skin made Blaine feel like the air had been vacuum sealed out of the room. Yet, Blaine couldn't deny that Kurt was beautiful. Even moreso without the dirt covering him.

"Here," Blaine said, handing Kurt the clothes. "I'll be in the living room."

"Thanks."

Eventually, Kurt came out of the closet and Blaine offered him some coffee. For some reason, Kurt declined the offer of coffee, but said he'd prefer a glass of warm milk. He sat next to Blaine, Blaine barely feeling his presence as they both watched re-runs of 2 Broke Girls which Blaine thought would cheer Kurt up. He also thought the sassiness in the face of adversity would work well with Kurt. Kurt stared down into his warm milk, chuckling a little from time to time, but his beautiful jade eyes just looked so sad. Blaine frowned. He'd arranged for this homeless boy to have a job, and a safe place to sleep. Shouldn't Kurt have been the picture of happiness?

Kurt squeaked a little, and Blaine pulled him a little closer. The soft, dreamy sigh Kurt made in response made Blaine's heart feel like it was being squeezed in a vice. Taking a deep breath, Blaine reached up to smooth a strand of Kurt's soft chestnut hair behind one his of adorable, elfin ears.
"Maybe..." Kurt started. "Maybe I could be like that one day?" He gestured at Rachel's flat screen, which sat in an expensive walnut cabinet. "Start a successful business after losing everything?"

"Maybe?" Blaine leaned closer, certain Kurt could feel the warm rush of his breath against his ear. "Kurt. You are strong, you are smart, and you have so much courage. You can do anything you want to."

"I used to think that way." Kurt turned his head, and Blaine noticed the crystal formations of tears springing at the corners of his eyes. "I used to have a life. A family who loved me. And then it was... it was all ripped away."

Blaine sighed. "Santana's a good boss," he offered. "If you work hard at Jicama, you'll be rewarded."

Kurt sighed. "I'm worried it will be too physical for me. I have a few... teething problems with my health."

"That's okay," Blaine replied to the boy, wondering if Finn had been correct and perhaps Kurt was HIV positive. "You can rest here for a few days and gather your strength. My friend Tina works at the Beiste clinic, which provides healthcare on a sliding scale. We can get you there tomorrow for a check-up. With the right drugs, it's possible to live a fulfilling life with -"

"I don't have AIDS," Kurt snorted. "What is this, RENT? If that's what you're wondering. It would have been so easy. Sell myself on the street like a street vendor selling pretzels. It was... keeping control of my body. That was the one thing I could keep control of, Blaine."

"I'm sorry." Blaine sighed, watching Kurt slowly sip his warm milk. "I didn't mean to make assumptions."

"That's okay." Kurt set his half-eaten biscotti down on a china plate and curled further into his arm. "Everyone does. But you're not like the rest."

"Hey!" Finn said, laden with bags from Macy's like a six foot three inch tall pack horse. "We got take-out!"

Rachel flounced through the doorway and extended her wrist to Blaine. "Look! Finn got me a little gold Chai charm for my charm bracelet!" She walked away and enveloped her handsome fiance in hug, Blaine winching a little at the sloppy sounds of them making out yet again.

"What's Chai?" Blaine asked.

"I thought it was a kind of tea," Finn confessed. "Then Rach told me it's a Jew symbol. It means life."

"Really, Blaine?" Rachel shook her head. "Jewish descent is matrilineal. I'm ashamed you're not aware of this important constituent of your Jewish heritage." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Finn's converting for me, you know. Isn't that romantic?"

Then, she stopped in her tracks and raised one eyebrow. "Blaine, you bought a friend? You should have told me. Not to worry, I can always send Finn out for more take-out." She extended her hand. "I'm Rachel Berry. It's a pleasure to meet any friend of Blaine's."

"Kurt Hummel," Kurt replied. "And I'm not pleased to make your acquaintance.

"Dude," Finn said, walking over to appraise Kurt. "You look kinda familiar."

"Of course I do," Kurt said. His eyes looked kindly towards Finn and a light blush appeared on his cheeks as he made contact with Finn's kind brown eyes. Then, the blaze of steel and flying sparks of steel being welded appeared again as he turned his gaze towards Rachel's frightened brown eyes. "I seem to remember somebody in this room telling a starving homeless man to clean up his own soup after handing him a bowl that was fresh from the dishwasher and hotter than the sun. Does that ring a bell, Rach-e-le?"

"What?" Rachel's eyes bugged out. "You're... you're..."

"Charity begins at home," Kurt replied, smoothly. "Blaine very kindly arranged for me to start working at his friend's restaurant. I'm sure you won't even notice me sleeping in your closet, but I'm sure Blaine's friend will give me an advance and I'll very soon be out of your hair." He raised an eyebrow. "Which, by the way, ombre highlights? So fall should sack your stylist."

"You thought you'd invite a homeless man into our beautiful apartment?" Blaine's eyes flew open like a frightened horse, wondering what he could do to diffuse tension from the awkward situation. "Without telling me? What if he steals some of my Bat Mitzvah jewellery, or, or my autographed Lea Salonga water bottle? I have a plethora of incredibly valuable Broadway memorabilia."

"Rach," Finn said, walking over to hold his fiance close. "Blaine was only trying to help. Look at him. He can't even lift his cup of warm milk he's so weak."

"That's what he wants us to think," Rachel spat.

Blaine stood up, staring down at her. Rachel always seemed ten feet tall when she spoke like this, but Blaine wasn't going to back down. "Kurt is staying here," he said, voice harder and more determined than a baby trying to crawl out of its pen. "And that is final."

Blaine thought about countering the argument with the fact Rachel's friends stayed over all the time, but that would have been dishonest; unfortunately, Rachel was too busy with college and volunteering to be able to sustain any lasting friendships, although her friend Jesse did occasionally stay.

"Eggplant parmesan, anyone?" Rachel offered, flashing Kurt a watery smile, and Blaine sat down next to Kurt again, placing a cushion on his lap as Finn put tray tables in front of them. Usually they ate at the dining table, but Blaine wanted to do whatever he could to make Kurt feel at home.