Kurt rested his forehead against the steering wheel, grinning vibrantly.

"Kurt, the light is green," Blaine noted.

Kurt made a happy humming noise, picked his head up, and proceeded to push on the gas.

"Blaine, he's okay! My dad is okay!"

"I'm really happy for you, but keep your eyes on the road!" Blaine yelped, covering his eyes as Kurt almost hit the back of a large van.

Kurt passively waved the angel off. "I can drive and talk, Blaine."

"I beg to differ," Blaine muttered.

Kurt ignored him. "I wish I could have stayed all night."

"It's better that you're getting some sleep, honestly," Blaine commented. "He'll be there tomorrow."

"Good. I need to start preparing for his return! I basically need to baby proof everything," Kurt said, making mental notes of what to buy.

"He just got out of a coma, Kurt, not finished up his pregnancy."

"I'm taking no risks," Kurt said, switching lanes without looking.

"KURT!" Blaine gasped, pointing to the car that swerved behind theirs.

"What?" Kurt said annoyed. "I wasn't anywhere close to that car!"

"You didn't even look!"

Kurt just reached forward, turning on the radio. "You're infuriating when I drive."

"You're an awful driver," Blaine retorted.

"I drive as well as any other person, thank you very much. If you weren't such a worry wart... You worry about everything. You're a grandmother, Blaine."

"It's in the job description."

"Oh, okay," Kurt mocked.

"And besides," Blaine stressed, "cars are probably one of the worst inventions since knifes or fire."

Kurt glanced sideways. "I'm trying to decide if you're kidding or not. I don't think you are."

"My one friend-"

"Wait, you have friends?"

"Other angels!" Blaine said, batting at Kurt's arm. "Her name's Santana: Brittany S. Pierce's guardian. She tried all last year to convince Brittany to walk everywhere. Angels and cars aren't a good mix."

"I have a hard time believing Britt even passed her permit test."

"Much to her angel's glee."

Kurt chuckled, actually looking, for Blaine's sake, before he switched lanes again. It didn't take more than ten minutes to get home, and as the car slowed, Kurt could visually see Blaine lose the tension in his shoulders.

"This seriously kills you, huh?" Kurt asked, shutting off his headlights.

"More than you know," Blaine breathed. "But no more than amusement parks or elevators. It's the loss of control, really."

Kurt shook his head, having a hard time hiding how amused he was, and got out of the car. Blaine did the same, slipping past all the metal until he was standing, staring at Kurt from over the car hood.

"You have irrational fears," Kurt insisted, locking the car.

They walked up the pavement to the house. As Kurt fiddled with the keys, Blaine said, "But how safe is a huge, hulking chunk of metal that people have pleasure scraping themselves onto just to spin and go fast?"

"You're right," Kurt agreed, pushing the door open. "We humans go to extremes to reach a high. Too bad they're also incredibly fun."

They made their way into the empty house. The first thing Kurt did was get a bottle of water out of the fridge. He offered Blaine something, forgetting the boy couldn't grasp anything even if he did want to. As they made their way up to Kurt's room, they talked about Kurt's favorite rides, which turned out to be Blaine's least favorite.

"But if you think about it, even the safest rides can be dangerous. I could get my arm caught in the gears, and-"

"Oh, all right!" Blaine cried, sitting on Kurt's bed.

Kurt laughed, digging through his pajamas drawer. "Blaine?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for being overprotective."

"Just part of the job."

"No, not really," Kurt mumbled, giving a small grin.

"You should get some sleep – especially if we're baby proofing the house tomorrow," Blaine said teasingly.

"Yeah. Do you think, maybe, you could close your eyes or...? I have to change."

Blaine smiled, nodding his head once. Instead of closing his eyes, or covering them with his hands, Blaine squared his shoulders, letting his wings open and bend to cover his front completely. Kurt's eyes never left the wings as he peeled away his clothes.

Something struck Kurt as he pulled his pajama pants over his hips. The once white feathers looked stained. When Blaine showed Kurt his wings the first time, they were white with the slightest hint of brown along the rim. Now, the brown was slowly creeping up. Almost half of Blaine's wings were brown, like he fell in mud or got splattered with dirty water.

Kurt paced forward. Without thinking too much, he dipped his fingered into the still white feathers of Blaine's wings. They were soft, and Blaine let out a soft, affectionate noise.

Blaine peeked over his wings. Kurt smiled down at him, and he retracted his wings until they were sitting neatly at his sides.

"Sorry," Kurt mumbled, rounding the bed and crawling towards the pillows.

"No, that's fine," Blaine said, getting up.

"Blaine?" Kurt muttered, getting under the covers. "You don't always stay when I fall asleep; I've noticed if I randomly wake up at night. Do you think you'd want to stay the night tonight?"

Blaine laughed, sitting at Kurt's vanity. "I always do."

Kurt nodded, his cheek against the pillow. "Maybe...I mean, you don't have to, I just... You could sleep here, if you want."

"I don't really sleep though."

Into the softness of his pillow, Kurt said, "You could lay with me."

Blaine mouthed an 'oh' and nodded, and then he picked himself up, tucked away his wings, and crawled onto the bed, facing Kurt on top of the covers.

"Better?" Blaine questioned.

"Yeah," Kurt replied, his eyes feeling heavy. "Could I ask you a question? Like my third question?"

"Of course."

Pulling the covers closer to his chin, Kurt asked, "What's happening to your wings?" Blaine's brow furrowed. "They aren't as white as I remember."

"No, they aren't," Blaine mumbled.

"Do you know, or...?"

Blaine nodded then flipped onto his back. "I just don't want you to get upset or anything."

"Why would that upset me?" Kurt asked, perching up onto his left elbow.

"Because you're the reason my wings are a different color," Blaine said carefully.

"I don't understand."

Blaine looked over at Kurt. "Every time I let you see me, they change. They were pure white when I first got them."

"So, what you're saying is: I'm taking away your purity? That makes me sound like a monster!"

"No! No, not at all."

"Are you breaking a law or something? Are you going to get in trouble with the Angel Council in Angel Court? Because, if that's the case-"

"It's not. I promise," Blaine interrupted, sitting up. "None of those things exist. What we're doing isn't bad. Santana and Brittany have been like this forever, and she's okay. Both of them are."

"What color are her wings?"

"Black." Kurt made an apprehensive face, sitting up as well. "Okay, so mine will probably look like hers in a few years, but they aren't going to burn off in the sun or something ridiculous like that. I'm as pure as the day I met you, Kurt."

Kurt nodded slowly.

"I-I have to do my moisturizing routine," he said abruptly, moving down the bed.

"Do you want me to leave?" Blaine asked.

Kurt halted, staring back at Blaine. "N-no, don't go. I'll be right back," and Kurt fled to his vanity, grabbed some random supplies, and jetted out of the room.

It'd be better for Blaine if he wasn't around Kurt. That's what Kurt decided. He was just too selfish to send Blaine away.

Teaser for Next Chapter:

"Our wings changing colors is a myth that has been proven true. There are plenty more that haven't though," Blaine continued. "Our death flashes. Angels disappearing. Breaking the bonds to our humans. Getting our wings."

Kurt stared wide-eyed at Blaine, looking and feeling absolutely stupid. "All of those things: I need you to elaborate on these myths."

"Do you think you can handle all of this in one night?"

"Yes, absolutely," Kurt said, springing up.