The car ride lasted all of ten minutes, but the silence that stretched between them made it endless, somehow.  When Blaine finally pulled up in front of a small but neat-looking brick house, Kurt was relieved to have it over.  They climbed out of the car, and Kurt started toward the porch when he noticed suddenly that Blaine was not going the same way.

“You don’t live here?” he asked, growing more puzzled by the minute.

“I do,” Blaine answered, cryptic again.  “Come with me, please.”

He started out across the lawn towards a large, more ornate looking building, Kurt trailing behind him awkwardly.  “A Church, Blaine?  You know how I feel about that.”

But Blaine either didn’t hear him or wasn’t going to acknowledge his complaint, so he continued into the building, sliding into the seat beside the one that Blaine had just taken in the second-to-last pew.

“This… is my Church.” Blaine said after a long lapse of silence.

“Ok…” Kurt drew out the word.  “That’s great, I guess, but I still don’t get why we’re here.  Why is this so important?”

Blaine sighed softly, something giving in his face.  “I don’t just go here, Kurt.  I preach here.”

“You… what?” Kurt asked, stunned and disbelieving.  Something was sinking fast in his stomach, and he swallowed back a bout of nausea as he struggled to think of something better to say.

But Blaine had words.  Suddenly, they were all there in a rush, pouring out of him in a jumble, reminding him of that first, long-ago confession.  “I couldn’t… after what I did to you, to myself.  I couldn’t be with anyone again, I didn’t deserve that.  I straightened up, Kurt.  I started taking myself more seriously, taking school more seriously.  I got a job.  And then, it had been a couple years, and I was at Mass one morning, and it just… made sense, I guess.  If I couldn’t have you, then this was the best thing for me.  So I became a priest.  And I’m…” Blaine almost said happy, but reconsidered at the last moment.  “I’m content, I guess.” I still ache for you in every moment.

Kurt was silent for a long time, and Blaine tried to wait patiently for him to process.  “Kurt, just… say something?  Please?”

Kurt knew he shouldn’t say what he was really thinking.  He had no right to, really.  Blaine hadn’t been his in a long time, and maybe that was partially his own fault.  But deep down something had always told Kurt that Blaine belonged with him, just as he would always be Blaine’s.  Anything else was just… wrong.  He had been wrong, all these years, and now with a sinking, sickening dread he realized he may never be right again.

“You promised me,” Kurt said, anger seeping through his voice, “You promised that you would always love me, that you would always be there.  How could you do something like this?  How could you just… take yourself away?”

“That’s not fair, Kurt,” Blaine said, his voice a little edgy but still controlled.  “You broke promises, too.  You promised you’d never say goodbye to me!”

And Kurt didn’t know what to say to that, because it was so very true.  His expression softened, and all at once he felt tears prickling at his eyes.  “I’m sorry, Blaine,” he said softly.  “I’m so, so sorry.  I’ve never regretted anything in my life so much as that.  You don’t know how many times I picked up the phone to call you, after that day, how many emails and letters I wrote and never sent.”

“I’m sorry, too.  It was my fault, my sin.  You were right to leave me.  I wanted so badly to go to you, but I told myself I didn’t deserve you after what I did.”

Kurt was lost in the moment, though, and continued on as if he didn’t hear Blaine’s words.  “I regretted leaving you, like that.  I tried to blame you, but I eventually had to admit to myself that a lot of what had happened was my fault.  I never did appreciate everything you brought into my life, until it was gone.”

He chuckled a little, darkly, before looking up and meeting Blaine’s eyes.  Blaine thought that the unshed tears their intensified the blue to a point of almost unearthly beauty, and some bit of memory stirred painfully within him. 

“While you were ‘straightening up’ for me, I was looking for you, Blaine.”  Kurt spoke again.  “I never stopped.  Every book I read, every movie, every… lover, all I ever wanted in them was you.  I even took a class on religion.  I wanted to understand you, I guess.  Understand myself.  I studied Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism, you name it.  I didn’t find God, but I did feel closer to you.  Maybe I needed you there with me to really find meaning in it all.”

“I’m glad that you tried,” Blaine said honestly.  “I wish you could find Him, but I guess that isn’t meant to happen for everybody.  I’ve always wanted it so badly, for you.  God is… peace.  He’s an anchor.  I never could have gotten through losing you without Him, I think.”

Kurt forced a smile at him, indulgently.  “I think it’s a trust thing.  I was always pretty independent, and after my mom died, I think I decided then and there that I wouldn’t put faith in anything or anyone else.  Not until you.  We’ve always been meant to be, Blaine.  Can’t you feel that?”

Blaine looked away from him, sad but resolute.  “Sometimes I think we’re meant for more than one thing, Kurt.  Sometimes we have to pick one and go with it.  Sometimes we don’t get a second chance to go back and choose again.”

“No,” Kurt said, a little desperate, a little on edge.  He stood up and began pacing back and forth in the small space between the pews.  “No, I won’t accept that.  I can’t accept that.  This was supposed to be our second chance, Blaine.  Please don’t ruin it!”

“I’m sorry, Kurt.”  He was and he wasn’t.  Blaine had made the right choice for him at the time, when a life without Kurt was a reality he’d had to accept.  “My hands are tied.”

“And what about your heart, Blaine?  Can you honestly say you don’t love me?”  There was a determined glint in Kurt’s eyes, shining there through the tears, and Blaine recognized the expression from long ago.

He swallowed thickly.  “That’s not fair, Kurt.  You’re not being fair,” he tried to reason.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you,” Kurt said, not caring that his voice was bordering on mocking. “Life isn’t fair!”  Kurt had never believed that, until just now.  Life isn’t fair.  He had heard it a thousand times growing up, of course.  He had thought he was clever when he decided that it wasn’t life that wasn’t fair, it was people.  Now, fate itself seemed to smirk at him.

“Why are you doing this?”  Blaine asked, throwing his hands up in the air and lifting his head in the same direction, as though speaking to someone that Kurt couldn’t see.  When he met Kurt’s eyes at last he looked so broken that it made Kurt physically hurt.  “What is it that you want from me?” he added softly, looking down and away again.

Kurt knew that this was mostly a rhetorical question, but it still stopped him, made him ponder.  What could he still asked for?  Because nothing Blaine had now to give would ever be enough.

“Stay the night with me, one last time,” he pleaded.  No, it wasn’t enough, but it was a lot to ask, Kurt knew, and it was far, far better than nothing at all.

 “Kurt,” Blaine said, shaking his head and offering the other man a sad, humorless smile.   “You know that that would be a sin.”  But even as he said it, Blaine knew his answer would be yes.

*******

They walked together back to Blaine’s house, entering into the living room and standing there awkwardly, stealing glances at each other.  Kurt looked around a little, pleased to note that the décor did at least look like something in the neighborhood of what he imagined the old Blaine, his Blaine, would have liked.

“So, how about I make us that dinner you were asking about earlier?” Blaine suggested, breaking the silence.

Kurt smiled at him, relieved at the mention of something to do.  “That sounds nice.  Can I help?”

“Sure,” Blaine shrugged his shoulders and started down the hallway.  “Kitchen’s this way, follow me.”

After surveying the kitchen, they decided to make a pizza.  Blaine assembled the dough, sauce and cheese on the counter, poking around in various cupboards to see what additional ingredients were available.  “Looks like we can do sausage, peppers, and mushrooms, but I’m actually out of olives right now.”  He remembered that that had been one of Kurt’s go-to toppings.

“That’s fine, those put the sodium content through the roof anyway,” Kurt said dismissively.

They set to work easily and comfortably, chatting now and then about Kurt’s job or past mutual friends that Blaine sometimes ran into.  Kurt realized with a pang that there were some friends that they both still kept in touch with, and surely they might have informed Kurt that Blaine had become a priest at some point before now.

Kurt was dicing some tomatoes for a salad, pizza bubbling in the oven when Blaine suggested that they watch a movie while they eat.   

“I have plenty of the musicals we used to watch together, but there’s some other stuff in there too, if you prefer.”  Blaine handed Kurt the box he kept his dvds in after they had settled in the living room with their food.  Kurt shuffled through them before spotting an old favorite.  He ran his fingers over the title, remembering that they used to watch this one quite a lot.  It had been years… should he?

“Oh,” Blaine gasped from behind him, noticing which disk he was fingering.  “That would be ok, if it’s what you want.”  He sounded hesitant, but Kurt chose to ignore it and plucked the movie from its flap in the box before he could change his mind.

They were halfway through the nuns’ performance of “Maria” when it occurred to Kurt why, exactly, The Sound of Music had been a terrible idea.  Blaine sat tensely beside him throughout most of the movie, cracking a half-hearted smile only at the irresistible parts (definitely little Gretl singing “So Long, Farewell” at the party.) 

Kurt needed so badly to reach out for him, to be held and comforted and allowed to cry in his arms, but he didn’t dare.  He made it through until “Something Good” before he broke down completely, curling in on himself as terrible, uncontrollable sobs wracked his body and wishing desperately that it would all just stop.

But then he didn’t want it to stop, because Blaine was there with him, back again, pulling Kurt into his arms and cradling him against his chest. 

“Why, Kurt?” Blaine asked him, sounding a little lost and very much as though he was crying himself.  Kurt stole a glance upwards and saw that he was. 

But Kurt wasn’t sure which why to answer. 

“Maria, she got out because she loved him!” He declared a little crazily, snuggling closer into Blaine’s embrace and burying his face in the other man’s chest.  “Why can’t you?”

“It’s not the same, you know its not.  Don’t make me explain.  Please, Kurt.  You know me too well.”

“I know you, know us well enough to know that we shouldn’t be apart.  Why can’t that matter more?  Why did you have to put this… this thing between us?  Why can’t I get you back!?”

Blaine was silent, moving his hand across the shaking man’s back as tears trailed endlessly down his own cheeks.  Inside he was screaming, but there was no room to let that out.  Just like there was no room to let the love out, all of it trapped and held so carefully inside the life that he had created for himself.

*******

The movie was left unfinished as they huddled together on the couch until their tears finally ran dry.  They moved slowly, then, in unspoken agreement as they washed and brushed and changed as through this were any other night like hundreds before, when they had gotten ready together.  But this wasn’t any of those nights.  This was the first such night in a long time, and it would be the last they would ever share.

Necessities taken care of, they stretched out on opposite sides of Blaine’s bed, facing one another with only their hands touching, clasped between them like a lifeline.  They studied each other for a long while, speaking volumes only with their eyes, before Kurt at last drifted off to sleep.

Blaine was still awake when Kurt shifted in his sleep, moving closer and curling around him until it seemed that every part of the taller man’s body was somehow tucked in against his own.  His arms wrapped around Kurt instinctively, and it was not enough and far too much for Blaine to handle all at once.  He could hear the other man’s gentle breathing, feel the rise and fall of his chest as it pressed against him and the warm breath trickling over his ear and cheek. 

He knew he should move away, but Blaine wanted this so badly, wanted to hold Kurt there forever even as he tried to memorize everything about the beautiful man in preparation for letting him go.  The sweet temptation of sin had never been stronger, sharper, never been there at all, if Blaine was honest, until the moment he laid eyes on Kurt once again.  Kurt was like a drug to a former addict, and it took all the strength Blaine had (and some that he knew wasn’t his own at all) to keep himself from seeking a fix.

At some point, Blaine must have fallen asleep, too, because the next thing he became aware of was a voice moaning his name.  Kurt’s voice.  There was a familiar hardness pressed up against his hip, a knee flung over his groin, and he realized in terror that he was equally aroused.  He ground his hips up once, twice, before flinging himself off the bed and backing against the wall.  No, no, no. 

The sunlight was barely streaming through the window now, illuminating the bed where Kurt still rested.  He was blinking awake slowly at the sudden loss of his pillow, grinding a little into the bed until his eyes opened more fully and he noticed Blaine standing there, staring at him in awe and fear. 

Kurt came to himself, then, and realized what had been going on.  “Blaine,” he cried out, a little helplessly.

“Kurt,” Blaine nearly whispered back, sounding a little wrecked. 

And there were tears again, of course there were. 

“It’s over now,” Kurt said sadly, clutching at the bedding as though it were an anchor that could keep him in the moment, together with Blaine.

Blaine only nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Kurt stood, forcing himself to turn away from the man he still loved and walk into the adjoining bathroom.  He emerged sometime later, fully dressed and considerably more composed.  At least on the outside. 

He slowly approached Blaine, who hadn’t moved from where he stood by the window and was still staring blankly at the spot on the bed that Kurt once occupied.  Tenderly, he reached out to cup Blaine’s face. 

Blaine didn’t look up.  He hadn’t gotten to say goodbye the last time, and this time he simply couldn’t find the strength.

Kurt caressed Blaine’s face for a moment before blinking back his tears and pulling away.  A moment later, he was gone.  Gone away from Blaine, away from their stolen second chance.

*******

But then it was the next day, and Kurt was bursting into the Church, running at him full force.  Blaine paused and watched from where he had been re-arranging the altar flowers just so.  “Kurt,” he managed to call out, the question evident in his voice.  Thank God he was alone. 

Without a word, Kurt was on him, pressing their lips together in a desperate, searing kiss.  A kiss that was delicious sin and heat and absolutely everything that Blaine never could resist, and he was feeding into it, licking into Kurt’s mouth and taking, taking, taking everything.

When Kurt finally pulled back, he was crying and shaking.  He met Blaine’s eyes, searching there for something before asking “Do you believe in the afterlife?  For us, I mean… is there a place for us there?”

“Kurt,” he said again, defeated and broken and sighing.  “It wouldn’t be heaven if you weren’t there.”

Kurt nodded then, resolutely.  He stared at Blaine for a moment more before turning and walking calmly, slowly out of the Church.

Blaine crumbled to the floor as his body began to shake with empty, broken sobs.  He wondered, for the first time in his life, if God was good and if he cared and if it all had been worth it.

Outside alone in his car, Kurt cried silently with his forehead pressed against the leather of his steering wheel.  Then, for the second time in his life, Kurt Hummel began to pray.