“I look ridiculous…” Blaine whined, looking down at his body. Kurt laughed from where he was sitting in Blaine’s bed, leaning his back against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him, feet crossed.

  “You look just like everyone else’s gonna look.” he said, amused at Blaine’s behavior.

  “I hate the cap.” he said, adjusting it on his head for the millionth time. 

  They were in Blaine’s room, and Blaine was trying on his graduation gown. He didn’t like it. 

  “You’re gonna wear it once for like two hours. I’m sure you’ll make it out alive.” Kurt soothed, unable to not smile at his stupid boyfriend.

  “I still don’t like it.”

  “And you still sound like a whiny bitch.” Kurt said. “So shut up and come over here.”

  Blaine smiled and made for the bed, then stopped. “Better take this off first,” he said, unzipping the red gown, folded it (not very neatly), and forced it back into its box. Finally, he climbed onto the bed, crawled across it, and laid down next to Kurt on his stomach, face down into the bed with a loud grunt. There was a minute of stillness and silence, before he could hear Kurt slide down to lie down next to him. He felt his hand in his hair and smiled into the mattress.

  “You tired?” Kurt said quietly next to his ear. Blaine made a little sound and nodded.

  Lifting a couple of curls away from his face, Kurt leaned in and kissed Blaine’s temple. Blaine’s smile widened. He was glad Kurt couldn’t see him behaving like a giddy teenage girl.

  “Nightmares still not going away?” he asked.

  Blaine shook his head, and after another moment of stillness, he turned to lie on his side, facing Kurt. They looked at each other, the concern in Kurt’s eyes making something inside Blaine very warm. It was so obvious that he cared nowadays, and it was so amazing to him how Kurt –almost–never tried to hide it anymore. They’d come such a long way.

  “You’re staying over tonight, right?” Blaine asked after a while.

  “Why?” Kurt asked. “You want me to?”

  “Yeah.” he admitted. “And not for the reasons you think, you over-sexual animal,”

  “Hey,” Kurt said with a little laugh, trying to act offended. “Don’t try to act all innocent, Mister. It takes two to tango, so shut up.”

  Blaine laughed. “Fine.” he said. “Anyways, I, um, you know, sleep better – when you’re here. So, uh, you know…”

  “I know.” Kurt said, the warmth in his eyes nearly knocking the air out of Blaine. “It’s the same for me.”

  “I know.” Blaine said, making a kind of roll across the bed, ending up on top of Kurt. “Thank you for admitting it.” he said before kissing him softly.

Ronnie, and surprisingly Kurt, too, both wanted to die when graduation day finally arrived. Partly because people were getting so fucking over-emotional over leaving a place probably 100% of them had called hell, or something along those lines, at least fifty times the past months alone. And then there was the greetings and embraces of family members, teary ‘I love you’s and ‘I’m proud of you’s, everyone running through the halls waving around papers and photos and tissues, crying and smiling. It was all pretty disgusting to them.

  The absolute highlight was seeing Quinn in her graduation gown. She’d never looked so big and ungainly before. It actually made Sheila laugh so hard she started crying, and by the time she started wheezing out ‘I’m pissing’ again and again, they were all having troubles breathing. It was good they were in a closed room, since if anybody else were to have seen that, none of them would’ve been able to graduate and still have the status they’d managed to hold for so long. 

    “And you finally show your true colors.” Kurt said to Blaine as they were walking down the hallway towards the school’s auditorium. Blaine was finally visibly nervous.

  “Oh shut up,” he muttered, barely moving his lips. “You’d be nervous too.”

  “Why, though?” Kurt asked. “I mean you already know you’re graduating. And as long as you don’t fall on the steps up to the stage, you’re all good. And you’ll never have to return to this place again.”

  “I know, I know,” Blaine said. “It’s just something that makes me nervous. Maybe because it’s gonna be packed with family members and relatives in there. Maybe because I won’t have any there of my own. I dunno.”

  “Hey,” Kurt said, touching Blaine’s chin quickly. “You might not have your complete family tree here to cheer you on as you walk up – what, four steps? – take a roll of paper in your hand, and move that thing on your cap from one side to another –”

  “Yeah thanks –” Blaine cut in.

  “But,” Kurt carried on. “I’ll be there. And I swear I’ll cheer louder than everyone else for you. And I’ll make Ronnie cheer for you too.”

  Blaine smiled, looking down at his feet for just a second. Kurt, not able to stop himself, leaned in and pecked Blaine on the cheek quickly before he went into the already very packed and very noisy auditorium, leaving Blaine to bite his nails until his name was called. 

    It all went by smoothly and fairly quickly. Kurt and Ronnie cheered loudly in their seats when the names of their fellow Skanks were called, as only Brittany and Santana had any family present. And just as promised, when Blaine Anderson was called to the stage, Kurt jumped to his feet, dragging Ronnie up along with him, and they cheered and clapped, being heard over the rest of the crowd, who cheered politely as well. They all made it up the steps without falling.

  The Glee Club, thinking they owned the place as usual, started sining as they ran through the corridors afterwards, all heading towards the choir room. Probably to continue singing all through the night or something. They were a weird bunch. 

    Naturally, they all (apart from Ronnie, who at no level felt like going to any kind of party) agreed to celebrate at Santana’s place; they would’ve chosen a club but they had the feeling they would all be over-running with students, maybe even Scandals (there were always tons of students happy to come out of the closet the second they were free of highschool), plus they agreed that it’d be nice if Quinn could actually be there as well. And to Santana’s surprise, her parent’s actually came to her and told her that they were going to leave the house to stay at a nearby hotel overnight, not coming home until sometime late the next day, knowing full well what they were allowing to happen. They were probably feeling generous because Santana ended up graduating with pretty decent grades. 

“You don’t look too good. Something up?” Blaine said to Kurt in the car as they were nearing Santana’s house later that night.

  Kurt just shrugged. 

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, really.” Kurt said, eyes on the road.

  “Talk to me please?” Blaine said, head tilted a little to the side. “You know nothing good comes out of not talking to me.”

  Kurt shrugged again. “There’s not really anything to say.” he said. “I mean, yeah, I’m a little bit down, but I pretty much always am.”

  “But right now there’s something bothering you, something more recent or whatever. So what is it?”

  “We’re going to a graduation party, Blaine.” Kurt said after a long while of hesitation. “I didn’t graduate.”

  “I thought you were fine with that?” Blaine said.

  “Yeah, I mean, I am, but…” Kurt sighed. “I guess I can’t help but feel a little down about it, ya know?”

  “I guess, yeah.”

  “You think I’m stupid.” Kurt muttered, parking the car and unbuckling his seatbelt. 

  “I don’t think you’re stupid.”

  “You do.”

  “Yeah, now I do.” Blaine said, getting out of the car.

  “I mean I don’t blame you or anything.”

  “Please just shut the fuck up, Kurt,” Blaine said, rolling his eyes. He let Kurt walk around the car’s nose, catching him by the arm as he kept walking towards Santana’s front door. “Your whining is really… I don’t know, not sexy at least.”

  “Because I’m normally sexy?” Kurt said, amused.

  “Don’t act like you don’t know that.” Blaine said, pulling Kurt in close to him.

  Kurt chuckled, backing Blaine up against the car. “It’s not like it depresses me to hear you say it or anything.” he said, close enough to Blaine to feel his breath on him. Kurt smirked at the look in Blaine’s eyes, and when he reached forward to kiss him, he pulled away, standing up and grinning evilly, but still very happily, at the look on Blaine’s face.

  “Come on,” he said. “Well be late for the celebration.”

  “There wasn’t any specific time mentioned.” Blaine whined. “So come here and let me kiss you. I miss you.”

  “I’m right here.” Kurt said, taking another step backwards, a playful look in his eyes.

  “You know what I meeannn,” Blaine complained, bouncing a little on the spot, making Kurt laugh through his nose.

  “I know what you meeannn,” he said, mimicking Blaine’s tone of voice, even the little jumps. “but I still think we should go inside. I really need to get drunk. It’s been ages.”

  “You fucking alcoholic.” Blaine muttered, giving up.

  “Hey,” Kurt said, poking Blaine hard on the arm. “I’m trying my best to quit, you know.”

  “I know, I know,” he said, opening the front door without knocking. “Just teasing you a little.” 

  “Yeah well it’s not funny,” Kurt said, trying his best not to pout.

  “Aw, I’m sowwy pumpkin,”

  “Oh, fuck off.” he muttered, hitting Blaine over the head lightly. “It’s actually hard.” he added under his breath, making sure Blaine didn’t hear him.

  They walked into the living room and fell down on the couch, propping up their feet on the coffee table. They picked up conversation again, paying the fact that they hadn’t announced their arrival little mind. 

  When Santana came down into the living room a couple of minutes later, they still didn’t.

  “Hi,” greeted both the boys noncommittally from the couch without looking up, too busy arguing jokingly about something.

  “Hi?” Santana asked. “Glad you came by? What, the door stood wide open?”

  “Nah, not really,” said Blaine, back still turned to her.

  Santana thought about arguing with both of them for a second, but decided she didn’t care enough. 

  “The others aren’t here yet by the way.” she said. “And I’m busy upstairs. So just, like, I don’t know, make yourselves comfortable, I guess?” She didn’t really stay and see if either of them had heard any of that. She was pretty sure they would take her advice whether they heard it or not, anyway. 

When Sheila and Mackie arrived (together as they so very often did), they, too, walked right in without knocking.

  “Alright we’re here now let’s – oh jesus fuck –” Mackie jelled, “You fucking hormonal bags of – ugh. Just stop. Please. It’s expensive to get your brain washed.”

  Kurt and Blaine both started laughing, though they didn’t stop kissing and they didn’t move their hands from their current positions.

  It was only when Santana came down the stairs after hearing the commotion and jelled at them about three inches away from both their ears that they sat up straight again, pulling their hands out of each others pants and hair and wherever they might’ve been.

  “We’ve already got one couple who can’t keep their hands off each other, so please don’t fucking do this. My brain is damaged enough, thanks.” Mackie muttered, sitting down heavily in an expensive-looking armchair.

  “You’re just bitter you don’t have anyone.” Kurt said, both sounding and looking a little like an eight-year-old teasing their older sibling.

  Mackie snorted. “Yeah that didn’t sound at all weird coming from Mr. I-don’t-fuck-anyone-twice.” she said, to which everyone in the room had to agree. “Whatever happened to him,” she added.

  “And I’m not bitter,” she said after a second, to which everyone in the room had to roll their eyes; they all knew Mackie was the Bitter One in the group.

   They ordered pizza, because they were fancy like that, and ate happily while listening to at least one of them complaining or being irritated about something. There were a lot of things surrounded around the graduation this time around, naturally. 

  Once the beer and shots came along, the conversation was still mostly based around complaints, but there was much more laughter and shouting and unnecessary arm gestures in there. And then the toasts and cheers about finally graduating from ‘that fucking hellhole’. Kurt joined in, forgetting that he was feeling down about having another year there.

  This time Quinn went upstairs the second they started drinking, though, already saying goodnight even though it was only about 9. She emerged again about 30 minutes later, asking them to turn down the music. They laughed at her and called her mom, but did what she asked.

  After another hour, Santana got up on slightly unsteady legs, walked from the room without a word, and came back a minute later with a big bottle of wine in her hand, grinning.

  “Let’s get fancyyy!” he said loudly, waving it around.

  They never had wine, almost ever. There was always wine in the house, but Santana refused to take from it since her parents would notice it gone immediately.

  “But what about your parents?” asked Sheila, voicing everybody’s thoughts.

  Santana waved her away. “They won’t mind this time.” she said. “They left me the house knowing what would happen. So we are going to drink a bottle of their very expensive wine as a thank you.”

  Flawed logic, but no one cared. Santana went to the kitchen, and came back with six fancy looking glasses.

  Blaine ‘ooh’ed inwards, looking at them hesitantly. “Now is that really a good idea?” he said. Santana just laughed at him.  

   “Oh please,” she said, sitting down cross-legged on the floor beside Brittany, who was leaning her head against the short end of the couch, half asleep. “The glassed they will barely notice missing.” she said, knowing that at least one of them was going to get shattered.

  She was right. Only fifteen minutes later, Mackenzie leaned over to whisper something in Sheila’s ear, and when she adjusted herself on the floor, she dropped the glass. It fell to the floor and shattered, the wine spilling all over the floor, only about an inch away from the expensive matt in front of the couch.

  “What’d I tell ya?” Santana grinned, satisfied with her deduction, getting up and going to the kitchen again. This time when she returned, she gave Mackie an orange plastic glass. She took it, nodding it towards her in a kind of salute. 

  Kurt sipped reluctantly at the wine. It tasted way too sour for his taste.

  “What’s the matter?” Blaine asked from his side. He was clearly having no troubles or objections about the wine.

  “Nothing,” Kurt shrugged, swallowed and took a big mouth of the deep-red liquid. He made a grimace in disgust, shuddering. Blaine laughed loudly, clearly pretty drunk. Kurt handed him his glass, and Blaine put it on the coffee table.

  “Don’t like it, huh?” he said.

  “Uh, no.” said Kurt matter-of-factly, reaching for another beer.

  After another three hours, the wine was all gone, and incredibly only Sheila had fallen asleep, having had enough. She snored loudly where she lay on her side on the floor, curled up into a ball. The rest of them barely noticed however, being too busy licking salt from each other’s bodies, exchanging slices of lime and drinking vodka. They didn’t know when to stop drinking.

  “Blaine!” Brittany shouted like he was on the other side of the house, pointing at him wildly, “You do Kurt now! Come on, come on, come on!”

  Blaine didn’t argue, and Kurt certainly didn’t either. 

  “W’re?” he asked Blaine.

  Blaine thought for a moment, then a grin found its way to his face. “Lie down.” he said, trying to press down a laugh. Kurt did, liking where this were going. 

  “Shirt off.” he continued. Kurt hesitated for a moment; he wasn’t too eager about showing people he wasn’t going to have sex with and then never see again his ribs (unless they were Blaine, of course), that were all on a pretty clear display. He had put on some weight the last few months though, and only the tiniest part of his brain was still sober, so he agreed to it with only a seconds’ hesitation.

  Blaine, still with that grin on his face, climbed on top of Kurt, now lying on the floor with his shirt around his neck, then bowed down and started licking a trail across his stomach. Across it. All of it. From the hem of his jeans to his left collarbone. Kurt involuntarily closed his eyes. Blaine proceeded to pour salt on the wet trail, then grabbed a new slice of lime.

  “Open up,” he said to him quietly, so close their noses were almost touching. Kurt opened his mouth, holding Blaine’s eyes with his.

  This time, Blaine took his time across Kurt’s chest, making sure to get every grain of salt off his skin, stopping for a second by his bellybutton and again once he arrived at his collarbone, giggling (because giggling was what happened when he got drunk) with his lips still closed around it. Once it was time for the lime, Kurt sucked it into his mouth, smirking up at Blaine, who accepted Kurt’s silent challenge eagerly. It was in Blaine’s mouth after about three seconds, and once again Kurt thanked all that was good that Blaine’s tongue was a real thing and that it was something he got to enjoy basically whenever he wanted. 

  When the juice was all sucked out of the piece of lime, Blaine spit it out and wasted no time to bow back down and kiss Kurt again. He tasted a little sour and bitter, like lime (naturally, the more sober part of Kurt’s brain thought).

  “Stop. It.” Mackie practically screamed at them. They stopped and sat up hesitantly, making totally  reasonable, grown-up faces at her. Mackie rolled her eyes.

  The night went on, they went through a couple of more games, a few more sessions of complaining, but neither Kurt or Blaine could stop touching each other. If it wasn’t hands on the other’s thigh, it was at least their shoulders touching. A couple of times there was even a hand in Blaine’s hair.

  Kurt leaned in, kissing Blaine’s earlobe. “I want you.” he mumbled, voice transforming into a giggle (in the lack of a better word).

  “I know,” said Blaine quietly back, his eyelids only slightly drooping; they’d both been too distracted with each other the latest hour or so.

  “So, hey,” Kurt said, somehow managing to look like he was stumbling over something even though he was sitting on the floor. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

  Blaine grinned. “Sounds perfect.”

  Kurt made a scene of clearing his throat. “Ladies,” he declared, trying and failing to stand up and seem sober. He lost balance halfway up and fell back down on the floor, landing smack on his butt. A sound that was somewhere in-between a grunt and a giggle left Kurt’s mouth. Blaine started laughing stupidly, trying to get both himself and Kurt to their feet. 

  It took them about two minutes until they were both actually standing up. Maybe they were a little bit drunker than they’d thought.

  “Ladies,” Kurt said again. “If you’ll excuse us.”

  Immediately, Santana started yelling wordlessly at them, gesturing wildly. “Do not fuck in my bed,” she managed to get out at last, managing to sound threatening even though she was stumbling through the words. “If you do, I swear t’God I’ll– I’ll cut off your cocks!” 

  Blaine just waved her off, trying to roll his eyes but ending up looking just a tiny bit extremely stupid. Grabbing Kurt by one of the belt loops on his jeans, he dragged him away from the girls and towards the stairs.

  It had been hard enough getting back on their feet. And now they were supposed to climb this monster of a staircase. They both groaned a little, looking up it, looking at each other.

  “We’ll die…”

  “It’ll be worth it.”

  They started a slow and careful journey up the stairs, holding on to each other as for dear life. Finally, they were up, having stumbled only a handful of times. 

  The second they were free of the evil fate of the flight of stairs, they practically burst through the first door they could find. It took them a second to see Quinn on the bed, her breathing heavy, clearly asleep.

  “Shhhhh!” Kurt hissed, pointing at Quinn almost manically.

  “Shhhhh!” Blaine hissed back, pointing at Quinn himself. Then they both looked at each other, realizing that they were hushing pretty loudly.

  “Shhhhh!” they hissed at each other, about twice as loudly as they previously had. Quinn made a sleepy sound from the bed, wriggling around a little in search of a more comfortable position. Afraid they’d wake her, they slammed the door shut. Quinn jolted awake on the other side of the door, Kurt and Blaine nodded at each other proudly; they’d gotten out of that one smoothly.

  They tried the next door – Santana’s parent’s room; they tried the next again – Santana’s room; the next – the bathroom; and the last one – some kind of storing room. They looked at each other, impatient and needy. They spotted a comfortable looking mattress in the storing room, standing against the wall. They turned on the lights, hurried forward and tried to lay it down on the floor. The room was way too narrow.

  Blaine whined quietly, jumping a little on the spot for the second time today.

  “Bathroom then?” Kurt asked, liking this just as little as Blaine.

  “Fine.” Blaine said, immediately but still hesitantly.

  Once they were finally there, Kurt pressed Blaine up against the door, kissing him eagerly and sloppily, Blaine responded just as eagerly and just as sloppily, grabbing the back of Kurt’s shirt and pulling him closer. Kurt responded by pressing a knee up between Blaine’s thighs, eliciting a moan from his lips, a moan that turned into a giggly laugh almost immediately; Kurt was brushing his fingers over Blaine’s back and sides lightly, and it tickled.

  “You know I’m tickly there,” he pouted, pulling away for only a second.

  “I know.” Kurt said with a little grin. I just really love your laugh.

  “You’re mean.”

  Kurt hummed, leaning back in to kiss Blaine’s neck. He loved his neck. And his laugh, and his hair, and eyes, and chest, and smile, and arms and hands and legs and his everything. 

  “You’re amazing,” he had to say, lips still at his neck.

  Blaine smiled, though pretended not the hear. Instead, he grabbed the lower hem of Kurt’s t-shirt and began tugging at it. Off. Kurt understood perfectly, lifting his arms above his head willingly, only breaking away from Blaine’s neck in order to get it over his head.

  “I’m gonna have a hickey there for the rest of my life,” Blaine breathed, tossing Kurt’s shirt on the floor. “Come back up here.” He missed his lips, missed his taste and his smell. Blaine ran his fingers all over Kurt’s bare back, light as a feather, barely touching, then digging his nails hard into his wonderfully soft skin, then back to feather-light. Kurt pressed up against him, wanting to come closer, closer, even if they were already as close as they could get, only their clothes in the way.

  Their breathing got heavier, their kisses messier and harder, and just as Kurt had finally managed to get Blaine’s belt off and his pants unzipped, someone opened the door. It opened outward, so both boys, tangled together as they were, fell backwards and almost didn’t regain balance in time.

  Santana stared blankly at them. Then a look a incredible disgust and frustration settled on her face.

  “Hi,” Blaine managed.

  “You two are disgusting.” Santana spat at them.

  “Yeah because you’ve never fucked Brittany in there right?” Kurt rolled his eyes at her.

  “That’s so not the point right now.” she hissed at him. 

  She started at both of them for another moment, shuddered and made gagging noises, then turned and went into the bathroom, only to appear a second later with Kurt’s t-shirt and Blaine’s belt in her hand. She said nothing, just started at them like it would have gladdened her to see them both on fire, then tossed both the items harshly in Kurt’s face. Handing the belt to Blaine and putting his shirt back on, Kurt couldn’t keep his laughter down anymore. Blaine followed shortly after, re-zipping his pants and trying his best to get his belt through all the loops. He missed three.

  “I’m so fucking done with all this cock-blocking though,” Kurt muttered after a moment, still not really able to completely stop laughing.

  “Tell me about it,” Blaine agreed. 

They woke up on the floor the next day, their heads aching almost worse than the rest of their bodies.

  “I’m getting too old to sleep on the floor.” Blaine said with a grunt, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head. Kurt muttered in agreement, rubbing his sore back.

  They sat collecting themselves for a moment, then got up to get a glass of water, their throats uncomfortably dry, the more-than-unpleasant taste of hangover in both their mouths. 

  “Hey,” Kurt said, savoring the taste and feeling of the wonderfully cold water. “I’ve been thinking,”

  Blaine gave him a look. “When?”

  “Tonight. When I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Right?”

  “Well,” he began. “so, ehm, since I started working and realized that I actually had money, I’ve been saving as much as possible, and I finally think that, that I have enough.”

  “Enough for what?”

  “Well, I, uhm,” Kurt scratched the back of his head, “I was kinda thinking about getting some furniture and stuff for the apartment.”

  “Oh, right – yes, that’s great!” Blaine smiled.

  “Hah, thanks,” Kurt looked down at the floor. “But, you see, the thing is – I’ve been thinking that, um, maybe you could help me?”

  “Oh, oh, of course, of course.” Blaine reached out a hand to Kurt’s arm. “Hey,” he said, almost  teasingly. “There’s no need to be so nervous about asking me that.”

  Kurt pouted. “I’m not nervous.”

  “You were almost stuttering,” Blaine replied with a little grin.

  “I was not.”

  “Okay, honey, whatever you say.” he teased. Kurt snapped his head up.

  “Never call me honey ever again, please.”

  Blaine laughed softly. “Okay, sweetie.” he said, touching his nose with a finger. Kurt tried to grab it but Blaine was too quick.

  “Shut up.” he muttered, forcing back a smile, following Blaine back into the living room to wake Mackie and Sheila up by yelling in their ears. It’s a miracle they came out alive.

They agreed to meet up by that little rotting swing set the next day (both needed the rest), Kurt picking Blaine up with his car. As Kurt pulled to a stop just by it, his stomach was weirdly alive. Nothing got better when he saw Blaine leaning against one of the swing set’s legs, looking so unfairly attractive. 

  When Blaine heard the engine, he looked up, smiling when he saw him. Kurt had to bit back a grin as Blaine pushed himself up straight with the foot that he had leaning against the slowly decaying wood. He was so… So Blaine. So unfair. 

  “Hi.” Blaine smiled, jumping into the car smoothly. “So, where to?”

  “Well, to be honest, I’m not sure. I’ve never bought furniture and stuff before.”

  “True.” Blaine agreed. “And you’re just gonna buy furniture?”

  “Uh-huh?”

  “Okay.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I don’t know, just,” he wiped his palms against his jeans quickly. “You haven’t got a working lock on your door, Kurt. One of your windows is even without pane for Christ’s sake.”

  Kurt chuckled, starting the car. “Okay, hey, no need to go religious at me.” he said and Blaine rolled his eyes. “But I agree with you. I’ve thought about the lock thing. And about the window. It’s just, I don’t have much money. Like, at all.” He kept his eyes on the road as he spoke. He had given it a lot of thought, but wanted to seem casual about it; he wasn’t sure how well he succeeded.

  “And I mean, I have no fucking clue how to do all that window crap. Or change a lock.”

  “There’s sure to be some easy tutorials on the internet that we can find –”

  “Yeah but first I gotta buy it, Blaine,” Kurt insisted. “And I’m not sure I have the money for that.”
  “Then let me help.”

  Kurt snapped his head around to give him a sharp look. “Would you stop offering me money!” he said, a little louder than needed. “I’m sorry,” he said, calming down. “It’s just, you have as little money as me, and you’ve got your mom too.”

  “She gets insurance money every month.” Blaine said stubbornly, but knowing full-well that Kurt was right. 

  “You’re not going to give me any money, no matter how much you might want to be the knight in shining armor in every part of our relationship.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Blaine said with a small, confused smile.

  “You know,” Kurt made a gesture with one of his hands, then let it fall to his side, careful not to look over at him. “you help me out so much all the time. And I never do anything for you in return.”

  Blaine was silent for a moment. For a second Kurt thought that he’d made him angry. 

  “Pull over.” Blaine said softly from his side then. Not angry then. But sad? Something along those lines, it sounded like. That Kurt could understand even less.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Just stop the car for a moment please,” Blaine said, and his hand was on Kurt’s. He stopped the car, pulling into the side of the road, which was still small and with barely no other cars on it.

  “Kurt,” Blaine said insistently. Kurt heard him unbuckling his seatbelt and turning in his seat. “Look at me.”

  Kurt turned his eyes to him reluctantly. Blaine was sitting with his left leg folded on the piece of seat between them, so that he was as turned towards him as he could get. There was something in his eyes that made Kurt swallow hard and avert his eyes for just a second.

  “Do you really still feel like that?” he asked. “Still?”

  “Like what?” Kurt asked in response, wrinkling his forehead a little.

  “Like you don’t do anything for me in return. Because that’s bullshit, Kurt.” Blaine still hadn’t moved his hand away from his. Kurt looked down as Blaine grabbed his hand a little harder, urging him to understand.

  Kurt just shook his head. “How could I do anything for you? Or, how can you think I’ve done anything for you? All I’ve done is being on the constant peek of losing my mind, giving you another person to take care of.”

  “That’s not true.” Blaine said, then had to correct himself, “Not for all the time.”

  “Not for all the time.” Kurt agreed. “But for most of the time.”

  Blaine looked at him in silence for a long while, a look of almost concentration on his face. “You’ve done so much for me since we met, Kurt.” he said finally. “So much.”

  “Like what?” Kurt asked stubbornly. 

  Blaine laughed softly through his nose, looking at him with that twinkle in his eyes. “I can’t really put it into words,” he began. “But for starters, when we sleep in the same bed, I don’t have nightmares nearly ever. You gotta admit that counts for something.”

  Kurt nodded; it was the exact same for him. “But that’s all. But the list of what you’ve done for me in return… It goes on forever.”

  “You want me to stop doing nice things for you?”

  “I want you to stop making me feel like I don’t – like I don’t deserve you.”

  “That’s fucked up, Kurt.” Blaine softly. “Haven’t I told you before? You don’t have to do anything to ‘deserve’ me. But, if there would’ve been a need for such a thing, I think you’ve done it already.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Kurt muttered. “I haven’t–”

  “I love you,” Blaine said, and Kurt froze. “I know we don’t tend to say that, but I do. And I don’t think you realize just how much.”

  “See, that’s another thing, how –”

  “Stop with the how,” Blaine said softly, refusing to look away from Kurt’s eyes. “Because I don’t know how it all works. I just know that I’m deeply, deeply in love with you. And you don’t have to do anything to deserve that. Just being you is enough.”

  Kurt had to look away. Blaine’s gaze was too powerful, too intense and so packed with warmth and… love, he realized. That little glint Blaine so often had in his eyes when he looked at him was love. Kurt looked down at their hands. Their fingers fit so nicely together, he noticed for what wasn’t the first, or last, time. He felt so comfortable and safe when he held his hand, when he was close to him in any way.

  Kurt nodded. “Okay.” he said, a little breathless still by Blaine’s words and eyes and… everything. He made him breathless, without really having to do anything. “Okay, I understand.”

  Blaine smiled. “Good. Now let’s go buy you some stuff.”

  Kurt started the car again and pulled back out on the road, still holding Blaine’s hand tightly.

  He was so grateful, he realized, that Blaine didn’t seem to want to hear anything back. He didn’t seem bothered in the slightest that Kurt, again, hadn’t said anything back.

  He looked over at Blaine the next time the road ahead was straight and fairly empty.

  You know, right? He thought, like Blaine could read his mind. The smile he got in return almost made it seem like he could.

Changing the lock (his money was enough, after all) in his door was the easiest part, but it still involved a lot of muttering and swearing, and a fair share of confusion. But in the end it sat there. Working. Kurt’d finally be able to lock his front door at night. Though not as he left, since he hadn’t got a key. But that was fine with him, as he didn’t think of getting anything stolen was that high at all.

  Putting in the new windowpane was the hard part. It took forever, and both their hands were cut in several places after removing the glass shards already there. They hadn’t thought about gloves. They’d borrowed the tools Blaine didn’t own himself from the Smythes, so they saved money on that at least.

  The furniture they’d ended up getting was a table and three chairs from the Lima Bean; they’d recently gotten all new tables and chairs, and were throwing away their old ones. And since they were both working there, they were allowed to take what they wanted. Kurt still couldn’t believe the luck. They’d went across town to yet another thrift shop, it was more expensive but bigger, and they sold furniture. Kurt bought an armchair (that was actually more of a smaller type of loveseat, but he hated that name) that wasn’t that bad at all, and an alarm clock that didn’t give him the urge to murder someone. 

  “What’s wrong with the one I gave you?” Blaine asked when he showed it to him.

  “Oh, please,” Kurt just responded, rolling his eyes and hitting him on the arm with the clock. Like he didn’t know what was wrong with it.

  Blaine bought a pair of slippers for his mom, saying that her old ones were falling to pieces, literally, but that she refused to throw them away because that would be bad luck. These newer ones looked similar, but weren’t falling apart, so Blaine hoped she’s accept them without too much fuss (she didn’t at first, insistently muttering something about betrayal and bad luck, though she was happy she had then a couple of weeks later).

  “I,” Kurt said with a big sigh, falling down onto the bed heavily, ignoring the fact that he hurt his tailbone terribly in doing so, “can’t believe we just did that.”

  Blaine smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “It was kind of needed though, don’t you think?”

  Kurt laughed hollowly. “You could say that.” he said. “God, it’s going to feel good to sleep without having to hope it’s not going to be windy. Though right now I might have to sleep with the window open – fuck it’s getting warm.” 

  He wiped his face in his hands, fanning his shirt from his body, then closed his eyes heavily. “And now I’m not going to move for at least another hour.”

  “We still have the furniture to carry in, though.” Blaine reminded him.

  Kurt’s ‘ugh’ed, hitting the back of his head against the wall. “Do we have to?” he whined.

  “Oh, stop,” Blaine said with a little laugh. “since when did you become such a pussy, Hummel?”

  “Since you came into my life,” Kurt muttered, though standing up and walking behind Blaine back outside.

  The table and the chairs were light and easy to get inside, but the armchair/loveseat was another story entirely. 

  “How – is it so –” Blaine puffed, fighting not to loose grip of it on their way back in.

  “Heavy?” Kurt finished for him, nearly slipping on the muddy excuse for a lawn. 

  Getting through the door was the next obstacle. It was almost too narrow to get the chair trough, and they felt like keeping their fingers, so they set it down on the ground, then Blaine climbed over it into the apartment (after deciding that his shoes looked the cleanest), and from there they turned it a little on the side, wriggled it, dragged it, and finally, finally, it was inside.

  “Not. Another. Inch.” Kurt said blankly, dropping it the second it was completely over the threshold. Blaine laughed, but agreed. His arms were screaming, and his fingers felt like they were going to snap in the middle and fall off if he had to carry that thing another millimeter.

  They fell down on the loveseat together, fitting just barely. They laughed airily, looking at each other happily.

  “This is pretty great.” Kurt admitted.

  “It is,” Blaine agreed, taking his hand. And Kurt couldn’t help it. He smiled like a kid on Christmas morning. After a second he bit his lip, looking stubbornly forward instead of at Blaine or at their clasped hands, trying to stop smiling.

  “You know,” said Blaine, almost thoughtfully. “If you want me to stop calling you adorable, you need to stop doing things like that.”

  “Like what?” Kurt said, still biting his lip a little, still trying to stop smiling. 

  “Like,” He reached out and touched Kurt’s cheek lightly with his hand, turning his face back towards him. “that.” he finished.

  Kurt blushed. Blushed. Now it was Blaine’s turned to be unable not to smile. “You really are adorable.” he mumbled, having to kiss him before he said something else, even more stupid.

  Kurt hummed approvingly, deepening the kiss and laying them down, Blaine’s legs sticking out at the end of the loveseat, it being way too short even for him to room.

  “Door still open,” Blaine mumbled against his lips, though made no effort to stop.

  Kurt hummed again. “Don’t care,” he mumbled back, pressing himself to Blaine as well as he could. There was really little space to move on.

  Like really little. It only took them about two minutes before the fell down on the floor, laughing hysterically the second they fell.

  “Oh fuck,” Kurt said with a moan, him being the one on the bottom now. “Oh, fuck, I think I broke my ass.”

  Blaine feigned a look of terror. “Oh God,” he gasped. “Oh no please tell me that’s not true. I don’t want to be the one always on the bottom from now on.”

  Kurt laughed. “Thanks for the concern,” he said, re-tangling his fingers into Blaine’s hair, his eyes bright with happiness.

  “You’re welcome,” Blaine smiled, dipping his head and kissing him again.

Kurt decided to spend the night at his apartment that night, Blaine going home to check on his mom. And for once he didn’t feel as miserable as he usually did when he slept alone at home. Or, at this home. He’d spent so much time at Blaine’s house the last months, it’d long passed being a second home to him. He liked it that way though. He really did.

  They were going to last a long time, the two of them. They were special. And Kurt was happier that he’d been in a long time, knowing he had years in front of him that he’d get to spend with Blaine right there next to him.

  And for once, he fell asleep with a smile on his lips, and he only woke of from a nightmare once, and that hadn’t even been a particularly bad one.

“Hey, I know we’ve been spending a shitload of time together, but I’ve kinda been thinking,” Kurt said to Blaine some three days later. They were in the grocery store together, and Kurt held Blaine’s hand without even the slightest care.

  Blaine smirked at him. “Mm,” he said. “Again with the thinking, huh?”

  Kurt’s ears reddened. “Never mind then,” he muttered.

  Blaine laughed softly, bumping his shoulder lightly. “No, no, tell me. What have you been thinking about?”

  “Well…” He bit his lip. How was he supposed to tell him without sounding way too, like… couple-y? “I mean, we’ve been doing this for a while now, and, well…”

  “Well?” Blaine smiled at him. His nervous side was really one of Blaine’s new favorites. 

  “It’s summer break and all, soo…” Kurt trailed off again. Tried carrying on again, and stopped himself again. 

  “Iwasthinkingthatmaybewecouldgosomewheretogether?” he blurted out.

  Blaine laughed again. He bowed his head a little, trying to catch Kurt’s eyes. He was tarting stubbornly at his shoes. “Sorry what?” 

  Kurt made a grumbling sound somewhere in the back of his throat. “You, me – get away from things. Somewhere. Sometime. Soon?”

  Blaine grinned. “Really?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I mean if you don’t want to…” Suddenly he got insanely engulfed in trying to decide what type of bread they were going to buy. Blaine snaked his right hand around Kurt’s waist, tugging him closer.

  “I’d love to.” he said in his ear.

  “Really?” Kurt looked at him happily, then quickly cleared his throat and forced any trace of happiness off his face. “Really?” he said again, much less enthusiastically. Though his eyes betrayed how happy and relieved he actually was about Blaine’s agreeing so without a thought.

  “What about your mom, though?” he asked after a second. It wasn’t like he’d forgotten about that.

  “Oh, right,” Blaine’s face fell a little. “Right, yes. Well. I’m not sure, to be honest.”

  Kurt nodded, understanding completely, looking down at the list they’d written to prevent them from forgetting anything. For a moment he realized what he was doing. He was  grocery shopping with his boyfriend. This was insane. 

  “Oh, hey, maybe,” Blaine said, a new sort of hope in his voice. Kurt looked up. “If we don’t go far –because lets be honest we don’t really have money to do anything too extravagant anyways– and are only gone for like two days or something… I could see so that mom has food that she can microwave or eat cold, I’ll ask Leila –Mrs. Smythe– to come over and check on her every other hour to see if she’s fine and give her her medicines and all.” He grinned, clearly believing that this could really work.

  “That could work, I guess,” Kurt admitted. “Would –ehm, Mrs. Smythe? – be okay with that though? Looking after her while you’re gone?”

  “Oh, yes,” Blaine assured. “I mean she helps a lot already, and I usually never feel comfortable asking her for more than I already am, but this is a one-time chance. And mom really liked her, too, so they’ll be fine.”

  Kurt nodded. “Okay.” he said, trying to seem much calmer than he actually was. “Okay, yeah. Let’s do it.”

  Blaine hugged him with one arm again, all warm and bubbly inside. “Let’s run away together.” he whispered, walking towards the dairy section.

Leila wasn’t free for the job for another week and a half, which was completely fine with them both. But non the less, she apologized so much Blaine almost had to get stern with her. She was so good to him already, there was nothing she had to apologize for; he wouldn’t’ve made it to where he was today without the support of her family.

  “Where are gonna go, then?” Blaine asked Kurt once they were back across the street and packing up the groceries. 

  “Oh,” Kurt said. “I dunno.”

  Blaine laughed a little. “You mean you haven’t thought about any more than this?”

  “No, I mean, I have. A little. But I kinda kept myself from it since you know – I wasn’t sure you’d want to.”

  “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

  “Well, it’s not exactly, you know, us.” Kurt mumbled. “It’s not something we usually do.”

  “And that’s because we haven’t been us for that long yet, not without school being in the way of almost everything at least. I’m sure we’re going to do loads of stuff like this in the future.”

  “You mean like horribly romantic get-aways?”

  “And other disgusting couple-y things, yes. Definitely.” He kissed Kurt’s cheek quickly as he passed him in the kitchen. “Maybe we’ll get matching tattoos,” he joked. 

  Kurt laughed. “Now I wouldn’t go that far, honey,”

  They finished putting away the groceries, and Blaine spent some time in his mom’s room while Kurt took a shower. They landed in Blaine’s bed together half an hour later, side by side, Kurt’s hair  dropping water into his eyes.

  “No but seriously,” said Blaine. “We need to figure out what to do. Where’re we gonna go?”

  Kurt shrugged, wiping the hair out of his face. It fell back down on his forehead and way across his eyes. “Whatever it is, I’m getting my hair cut afterwards.” he muttered.

    “Whyyy?” Blaine whined, running a hand through it quickly, then wiping his hand on the sheets quickly. “I like it long.”

  Kurt chuckled. “I’ve noticed,” he said, smiling smugly. “And I’m not shaving it off. Just cutting it a little. And maybe re-dye it too,” He hadn’t dyed it in months, and it was completely back to its natural brown, with no trace of pink in it whatsoever.

  “I like it either way.” Blaine smiled.

  “I bet you do,” He turned on his side to face him, putting his left arm under his head to pop himself up a little. “As long as you’ve got something to grab onto, right?”

  “You caught me,” Blaine said with feigned sheepishness, turning on his side himself, reaching out a hand to his hair again, playing with a couple of strands behind his ear. It’d gone a little softer lately, after going so long without dyeing. “And I actually think I like it better when you don’t dye it.”

  “Why?” Kurt asked, pouting a little. He liked it dyed.

  “Well, it’s not so much about the look,” Blaine mumbled. “It’s more like it gets awfully rough with all that dyeing.”

  Kurt hummed. “True.” he agreed.

  “I mean, just imagine if I’d start gelling down my curls, how’d you feel then?”

  Kurt got a look of horror on his face. “Oh dear Jesus never do that ever,” he said with wide eyes, knowing Blaine was joking, but still hating the sound of it. Why would he ever do that?

  “Exactly,” he said with a wink. “Now stop talking and put your tongue in my mouth.”

  Kurt laughed. “You’re really good at that dirty talking,” he said.

  Blaine shrugged. “It’s just all it takes.” he smirked, and Kurt knew he was right. And he wasted no time crawling on top of him, not breaking the kiss. Never breaking the kiss. They breathed each other in for the millionth time, smiling a little despite themselves. Blaine soon turned them over so that he was on top, straddling him and being able to control things much easier.

  “I have an idea!” Blaine said suddenly, so suddenly the first half of it got slurred from being spoken basically into Kurt’s mouth.

  Kurt grunted. “Can’t you wait for just a few minutes?” he mumbled, trying to roll them over again. He wasn’t in the mood for talking. Not this kind of talking anyways. 

  “No,” Blaine said with a little laugh that landed comfortably on Kurt’s face. “I have an idea about the whole trip thing. So listen to me for just a second.”

  “Fine,” muttered Kurt, rearranging himself in his pants quickly, following Blaine up into a sitting position.

  “So, there’s this place about two hours’ car ride away from here or something,” he began. “Me, mom, and dad used to go there when we were still, well, ya know, a properly functioning family. I haven’t been there in years, but I’d really like to return there, and I’m thinking maybe now is a pretty good time.”

  “And what is this magical place?”

  “It’s nothing special, really,” Blaine mumbled, his brain over-flowing with childhood memories. “It’s a lake in the woods, but not too far into the woods and stuff. It’s pretty and you can easily set up a tent there –”

  “A tent?” Kurt interrupted.

  “Uhm, yeah,” Blaine looked down at the mattress for a second. “We used to go sort of camping  when I was younger.”

  Kurt laughed quietly. “Well would you look at that,” he said, not meanly. “Guess there’s still plenty of stuff I don’t know about you yet, huh?”

  “Guess there is,” Blaine said with a secretive little smile. “So,” he said then, “You up for it?”

  “Camping with you in the woods by a lake that you used to go to with your parents when you were a kid?”

  “Yeahhh,” Blaine sighed. “Guess it’s not the best idea, huh?”

  Kurt smiled a little. “No, it sounds nice.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, as long as you promise me that you’ll not start sobbing about your dada leaving you or something, it’s all fine.”

  “Then it’s decided.” Blaine said with a little grin. It was ridiculous how happy this all made him. “Now lets just hope I’ll be able to find that old tent.”

  Kurt laughed, shaking his head.

  “What?”

  “It’s just so weird,” he said. “I mean, going camping. I mean wouldn’t be surprised if a fucking UFO flew by outside right now.”

  Blaine laughed quietly. “Yeah, I see what you mean,” he said

Blaine woke up that night to the sound of glass shattering. He sat up straight in the bed, accidentally waking Kurt in doing so – with the way they slept so close to each other, any quick and sudden movement startled the other. 

  “What – ?” Kurt mumbled, only one eye opened, and barely at that. “Wha’s go’ng on?”

  “Don’t know,” Blaine mumbled back, still pretty groggy with sleep. He could hear the steady hiss of their vacuum cleaner from downstairs. “Go back to sleep, I’ll go check it out.”

  He didn’t have to tell him twice. 

  Blaine got up on numb legs, deciding to put on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie just in case it was a burglar who’d decided to start vacuuming the house before he or she stole their valuable belongings (in which case they’d end up empty handed. They didn’t even have a flat-screened TV). Not like that felt like such a convincing idea, even for Blaine’s sleepy brain. Better be safe than sorry, though. Blaine got himself down the stairs without dying, though it’d been a close call. 

  No lights were on in the house, his mom standing in the middle of the living room, vacuuming the floor. And from the look of it, she’s been vacuuming the same square of floor for a pretty long time, leaving the rest of the floor be.

  “Mom,” he said, rubbing his eyes. There came no reaction. So he walked over to her, turned off the vacuum cleaner and involuntarily sighed with relief; it really wasn’t a pleasant sound that thing made, especially not in the middle of the night.

  Marissa continued vacuuming her little square of floor.

  “Mom,” Blaine said again, a little firmer this time, lightly placing a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t react, but did stop trying to vacuum the floor. After a second, her arms went limp and the handle fell to the floor with a head-shattering clonk. 

  He didn’t manage to get her to talk, or to sit down, or to drink anything from the glass of water he tried brining her. She just kept staring blankly in front of her, her eyes misty and far-away.

  “Then let’s go back upstairs, okay?” he said, rubbing her shoulder. “Let’s go back to sleep.”

  He started to guide her back towards the stairs, but once they arrived at them there came another problem – he couldn’t get her to walk up them.

  He ended up having to pick her up and carry her, up the stairs and into her room. He put her down as gently as he could manage, put the covers over her body carefully and re-filled her plastic water cup.

  “G’night, mom,” he whispered, leaving the doors ajar so he would notice if she woke up again.

  Kurt had fallen back asleep, though his body was a bit tens from the probable nightmare. He immediately relaxed almost completely the moment Blaine was back in the bed, back next to him. He kissed his shoulder lightly before closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep, forcing himself to stop shaking.

Three days before the trip, Kurt, Blaine, and Santana went to Scandals for the night. Brittany was out of town on some kind of family trip, and Santana felt alone and pathetic, so she basically forced the boys to go out with her. And honestly, they were both dying to go out.

  “I’m tellin’ ya,” Kurt said loudly, waving his beer around. “This whole sober thing I’ve been trying to maintain lately isn’t – my style,”

  Blaine just laughed, taking Kurt’s beer and taking a big swallow from it. To which Kurt yelled, “Hey! I payed for that!”, to which Blaine just grinned and grabbed him by his t-shirt, dragging him onto the dance floor.

  They danced until they were both too tired to stand, pressing close together or doing some kind of hide and seek, twirling off and hiding behind the bears on the dance floor.

  “I need a smoke,” Blaine jelled and headed outside halfway back to the bar, preferring that over smoking inside, even if there were tons of other people doing it (even if it was “no smoking allowed”. Even the bartender smoked sometimes.).

  Kurt grinned broadly as he sat back down on a barstool ungracefully, following Blaine with his eyes until he went around the corner. Santana made a noise from beside him. 

  “You two are so fucking annoying,” she muttered at him.

  Kurt just rolled his eyes. He was getting very used to Santana constantly complaining about him and Blaine. They both suspecting that it was because she and Brittany hadn’t been doing too well lately, that maybe it made her feel jealous or something. They both tried their best to ignore or avoid her whenever she was being extra bitter towards them, as neither were any good with relationship advice. 

   Blaine only came back in to tell them that he had to go; it was starting to get late and mom needed looking after. Kurt grabbed him quickly by the shirt and pulled him down into a quick kiss before he let him leave, Blaine whispering a short-breathed ‘bye’ as they parted, making Kurt’s eyelids heavy as he responded with a just-as-short-breathed ‘fuck off’.

  He expected Santana to be staring at him in disgust when he turned back to her, but what he got was instead such an open display of jealousy and sadness he did a double take.

  “What’s goin’ on, San?” he asked, knowing that he’d only regret it.

  “Nothin’,” she said with a sad little smile, only to take a a deep breath and continue:
  “I mean, it should be nothing. I shouldn’t care. But I just – it’s fucked. Between me and Britt.”

  “How’d’you mean?” Why, why, why, why, why was he continuing this conversation?

  “She’s moving.” she sighed.

  This was news to Kurt, and he had to admit he hadn’t see it coming. “What, where?”

  “Atlanta,”

  Kurt stared. “What the fuck is she supposed to be doing there?”

  “She doesn’t know. I mean, it’s her whole family who’s moving there. Her grandpa’s sick or something. I don’t know. I asked her to stay here, since I’ve fought with my parents to let me do the same thing for her new for almost two years…” She looked down at her beer. “It was the plan, you know? We were both staying here even though my parents wants me to go to New York or wherever – somewhere I can ‘get big’ – whatever that mean. And I finally got them onboard the idea. But now she’s moving.”

  Kurt nodded, starting to feel uncomfortable in the way he always did whenever Santana talked like this – out of character and without even a hint of her normal sarcasm and I-hate-everything attitude. 

  “And she’s not even trying to get them to let her stay behind. Says she ‘has to go’, whatever that means.” She sighed heavily again, shaking herself as to wake herself up. Kurt hoped she was done, knowing that this was all his fault she was telling him all this. 

  She wasn’t done. 

  “And I want to just say ‘fuck it’, you know? ‘Fuck her’. But I – I can’t. She’s everything to me. Everything. And she’s moving to fucking Atlanta. Like what the fuck kind of sick joke is that?”

  He did his best to put himself in her shoes for a moment, since the only way to get her to shut up would be to tell her something that would make it all, at least temporarily, a little better. He tried to imagine if Blaine were to move to Atlanta, or anywhere far away, all of a sudden. Maybe there was something there that would help his mom, he would say. How would Kurt be able to handle that?

  He probably wouldn’t, he realized. If Blaine disappeared now, he wasn’t sure what he’d do with himself. Maybe he’d move with him. It wasn’t like there was anything in Ohio that he’d be leaving behind. Nothing but Quinn, of course. Maybe he could get her to move with him.

  “Why don’t you go with her?” he blurted out before even properly thinking it through first.

  “Where, to Atlanta?” she said, a hint of laughter in her voice.

  “Yeah, I mean,” he began, realizing that maybe it wasn’t the worst idea. “Your parents want you to ‘get big’, right? And you want to be with Brittany. So why don’t you find something to do there and move when she does? That way everyone gets what they want, really. And you get the opportunity to get the fuck out of here, now when there won’t be a Brittany here that makes you want to stay.”

  He felt like maybe he was making it all sound a little more convenient than it actually was, that he’d make Santana go back to herself and start laughing at him – which, of course, would still be better than hearing any more of her relationship problems. But she started to shine up as he spoke, the way she held herself going from I-want-to-become-one-with-this-wonderful-pice-of-wood to hey-maybe-not-today. 

  She sat quiet for quite some time, thinking hard, nodding to herself every other second. Then she turned to face him again, looking at him very weirdly indeed.

  “What?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

  “You love him don’t you?”

  Kurt’s head jerked back a little, sitting up straighter, eyes widening momentarily.

  “What?” he deadpanned, though his voice was a tad higher than usual. Where the fuck had that come from?

  Santana laughed a little, looking at him in such a non-Santana way she almost looked like a totally different person altogether.

  “If you didn’t then you’d never come up with that idea.” she said.

  Kurt raised an eyebrow again. “And what kind of logic are you applying to that?”

  “You put yourself in my shoes and what you told me wasn’t ‘cry me a river’ or ‘get the fuck over it’,” Kurt’s heart was beginning to beat quicker in is chest. He didn’t like this. “Your solution was instead that I should go with her. Not just give up, get past it, or whatever else – that I should move all the way to Atlanta because that’s where Brittany’s going.”

  “No – I – I just –” Kurt stammered.

  Santana shook her head. “It’s not just that. It’s the way you’re like around him. They way he’s around you. And that’s part of why I hate seeing you together so much – you remind me so much of Britt and myself, but how we were in the beginning or whatever. I miss that sometimes, you know?”

  “Who,” Kurt said. “the fuck are you?”

  She just shrugged. “Someone who’s maybe a little too much like you sometimes.” she muttered. “That may be why we’re always at each other’s throats as much as we are.”

  “Oh please,” Kurt had to say. 

  Santana laughed. “You’re right.” she said. “Thanks, though,”

  “Oh fuck off, Lopez,” Kurt groaned.