Blaine knew, logically, that an age difference of 4 years and 3 months was nothing. That while Kurt was 18, he was also much, much more mature than him and probably the wisest person Blaine had ever come across.

Like the time they had gotten a good day-time drunk on and then decided to go to the mall with all of Blaine's and, subsequently, Kurt's friends; if he was being honest, they probably all preferred Kurt to him, but he wasn't mad – he actually preferred Kurt to himself as well. Especially when he remembered how the teen had fallen to his knees in front of him in the dressing room of Brooke's Brothers, trademark smirk in place, and proceeded to lick and suck him until Blaine had to muffle his cries with a bowtie pressed into his mouth. Which he had to buy then, although it was a super ugly mustard yellow.

It was at some new, ‘edgy' emo-circa-2008 clothing store that Mike whacked Blaine over the head with some frilly umbrella and challenged him to an ‘Asian duel'. Blaine, naturally, couldn't turn him down; as he explained to Kurt later, “his Filipino pride was at stake!” They had both proceeded to gear up on ‘appropriate dueling wear', including rainbow feather boas and top hats and sequined skull-print vests that were meant for girls half their size, but the fight everyone was awaiting with bated breath – though that probably came from laughing too hard – never really happened, as Mike managed to knock over a display when he swung his umbrella around aimlessly. The store manager had stormed their way, the smoke coming from his ears a pretty good indicator that he was pissed the fuck off, and they'd all proceeded to run out, Blaine and Mike not caring one bit that the theft detectors went off and they were basically stealing as they flitted through the mall to the sound of their, and other shoppers', raucous laughter.

In the end, Kurt managed to convince them to stop and return the items to the huffing and puffing store manager by swearing to Blaine that he would find someone else before he submitted himself to the stress and exposure of conjugal visits. He even managed to get them out of trouble by explaining to the mall officer that the two of them were deeply disturbed and mentally ill, and currently awaiting reply from their therapist's office about resuming their sessions after the guy they'd been seeing about their condition had been out for a couple of months due to illness.

Blaine made sure to thank Kurt with his very own dressing room blowjob, and rode him into the mattress extra hard after they got back to his room.

Or that time when he was leaning out of his dorm window, lighting up cigarette after cigarette in an attempt to numb the painful feeling in his chest that wouldn't stay away despite what he told himself about not caring what his mother thought and said. They rarely talked, and when they did she only ever insulted him, so he told himself he was used to it and that it didn't matter that this time, upon hearing he had a boyfriend now from Cooper, she had been particularly vicious. She even went as far as threatening to cut him off, and his trust fund and current financial support along with it, not realizing what an empty threat it really was because he had known for a while now that it was, in fact, his absent father who paid for his tuition and most of his living expenses. She always tried to make him feel guilty about the amount of money she spent on him, and that it was a waste because he'd contract AIDS and die young anyway… which never seemed to stop hurting him, even though he knew it was bullshit; no matter how old he was, no matter what he accomplished, no matter how happy he was with the rest of his life and how great everything was going for him, her words always managed to cut him where it bled the most.

That was how Kurt found him, trying to fill that empty place inside him up with smoke and probably only succeeding in supporting aggressive cell-growth which would take up the space instead. Blaine expected a lecture of some sorts, maybe something about how unhealthy a habit smoking was, like he didn't already know, but Kurt surprised him by leaning out the window beside him before taking the stick from him. He put it to his lips and inhaled deeply and… something about the sight was… hot, unbelievably hot, especially when he stretched his long, graceful neck towards the sky and exhaled again in a long, measured breath, lips pouting as the gray vapor left from between them.

However, there was also something painful that twisted in his gut, because he knew – despite everyone apparently assuming he didn't – he knew how bad it was and he didn't want anything tainting his angel, or endangering him in any way, no matter how remote the danger was.

“I don't think I like you doing that,” he murmured as Kurt took another drag and looked at him curiously, but with something else swimming in his eyes.

“Why not? You do it. I figure if I'm gonna kiss you and have to taste it anyway, I might as well join in on the fun.”

Blaine sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “There's a difference. You're… you're perfect, and you shouldn't knowingly jeopardize that. I'm…” he trailed off, unable, and perhaps a bit unwilling, to elaborate on what he was exactly. Kurt just inhaled deeply once more and let the smoke rush from his lungs before he flicked the butt out of the window.

“I don't think you understand the concept of perfection, Blaine. You see, you think I'm pretty much flawless, don't you?”

“Entirely flawless, yeah.”

Kurt smiled and kissed him on the cheek, but his expression turned serious again as he spoke. “But that doesn't mean everyone thinks that I am. Just like not everyone may think you're perfect, but you are entirely flawless to me, too. Beyond compare. And I like you putting yourself at an increased risk of early death as much as you like me doing it.”

Blaine was quiet, looking outside at the hustle and bustle of the city as he considered Kurt's words.

“Okay. Just… I was stressed out.”

Kurt quirked an eyebrow at him, a small smile playing on his lips once more. “I thought we'd established a pretty good stress relief…”

He couldn't help it, Blaine had to chuckle in spite of himself. “Not the kinda stress that would've helped with.”

“Your mom?”

He was pretty certain Kurt hadn't intended to make a “your mom” joke and was actually psychic, as there was no other explanation as to how this boy always knew what was up with him.

Blaine proceeded to tell his boyfriend about the conversation that had just taken place, and did something he never did – he let himself be comforted. Lying down on the bed with his face buried in Kurt's shirt, he let himself cry, and be held, let his angel murmur in his ear soothingly, let himself be lost in a kiss that tasted of salt and stale cigarettes and break apart and be put together again by someone else's hands.

So all in all, their age difference didn't mean anything in terms of power balance in their relationship. If they'd met when he was 18, Kurt would have been 14 and that was, of course, an absolute no-go, but at their age, nobody cared anymore. They were both adults, and Kurt even more so than him in regard to almost everything that counted.

However, that didn't mean it never slapped him across the face with a metaphorical chair, especially in moments like these.

“They want me for the internship…” he started, not bothering to greet his boyfriend of 4 months as he let himself into his dorm room, his stomach already in knots.

Kurt, sweet, sweet Kurt, jumped up after being initially startled, and walked in two long strides to engulf him in a tight bear hug, squealing in his ear.

“I knew it! I knew you could do it! Universal won't know what hit them!”

Blaine awkwardly patted him on the back, not knowing how to respond otherwise and feeling like he was about to hurl. Kurt noticed his tense posture and pulled back a fraction.

“You should be happy. We're talking about Universal Music Group here. A.k.a. the biggest record label in the world. Lady Gaga is signed with them, and All Time Low, Fall Out Boy, Rise Against… and Katy Perry, and everyone who's seen you drunk knows how much you love Katy Perry.”

A nervous chuckle, followed by an embarrassed groan, was what Blaine emitted before he disentangled himself from Kurt's arms and went to sit on the bed, clasping his hands in front of him, his restless leg knocking against the bedframe almost rhythmically as he tried to think of the best way to relay the news.

“I… didn't get the one that's based in New York. They want me at their headquarters… in Santa Monica,” he finally just came out with it, deciding there was no point in sugarcoating the situation. He looked up to see Kurt's face turn from confused, to dumbfounded, to incredulous and then, finally, settling on that unreadable mask Blaine had hoped he'd left behind even before they started going out.

“That's… that's great!” he said in a faux-cheerful voice, and everything within Blaine plummeted at the sound. Kurt was always upfront with him, had been from the beginning when he told him in no uncertain terms that there was no way in hell he'd come back to his room with him. That hadn't changed now that they were a couple – well, he'd come back to Blaine's room with him, but there was no hiding of emotions or pretending to like something you hated with them; they were always completely honest with each other.

“Is it?” he whispered, focusing back on his hands again.

“Of course, dummy!” Kurt exclaimed, walking off to switch on his tiny electric kettle; walking away from Blaine and finding an excuse to turn his back towards him so he wouldn't see his face. “It's a great opportunity, and if you decide against going into post-grad, this might secure you a job in your field right after graduation. How many college students can say they're that lucky?”

Blaine remained silent as he watched Kurt busying himself with making tea, apparently trying to choose the perfect teabag, as if they weren't all the same.

“Is that all you're gonna say?” he finally managed to ask.

“Yeah… what else do you want me to say?” his boyfriend replied, voice slightly higher than usual and trembling along with his entire frame, Blaine noticed, when he lifted the kettle to pour water into their mugs.

Blaine's own voice was right there with Kurt's, shaky as he exhaled and replied, “well… something. Anything. ‘Cause of us. And how much it sucks. Because I think it sucks.”

"Its your future, Blaine. And if it looks bright and shiny, thats good for me too, right? It means youd be happy. More than anything, I want you to - to be h-happy," Kurt stuttered the last word, sounding increasingly hoarse. Blaine reacted by drawing his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, feeling unreasonably rejected.

"Well... if its that simple for you..." he murmured before burying his face in his knees, hiding that there were tears glistening in his eyes threatening to fall.

Kurt was quiet for a while, and Blaine obviously couldnt see him, so it came as a surprise when suddenly, a tiny hiccup echoed around the room, followed by another, and another. Blaine looked back up to see he was still standing with his back towards him, shaking from head to toe, clutching something - probably the tea mug - between his hands. He was willing to bet that if he could see his knuckles, theyd be white as snow judging from how tense his entire posture was, no doubt in an attempt to remain in control.

As if in slow-motion, Blaine found himself disentangling his limbs and pulling himself up to his feet. His movements remained just as calculated, as deliberate, as he made his way over to Kurt and gently pried the mug from the death-grip he had on it, lest he drop it at some point and burn himself. He set it down and wrapped his arms around the, by now, sobbing boy. Kurt struggled against his hold, but he didn't let that deter him, tightening it instead and resting his head in the juncture where his shoulder and neck met.

“I'm not taking it,” he said, his voice firm, conveying more conviction than he actually felt. “I'm not leaving you here. I'll - I'll call them right now and tell them that they can either offer me a spot here in New York or forget about me.”

“I – Blaine, I couldn't live with myself if you did that.” Kurt sounded choked as he said it, and Blaine made a point of rubbing soothing circles into his back. “I can't ask you to give up an opportunity like that for me, and I'm not going to, and I'm not going to let you do it either. It just…” he was interrupted by another sob tearing from his throat. “It just fucking sucks, okay? Because I know you'll be amazing, and I want you to be amazing and happy and have everything you've ever wanted, I want you to break into the business and be the genius producer I know you are, and maybe release a few records yourself, I just –“ he took a deep breath, stopping the stream of words rushing from his mouth, “I just wish it weren't at the expense of our relationship.”

“It won't be! I'll stay here and if I don't get into the post-grad program, I'll, I don't know, I'll work or I'll break open my trust fund and we'll get our damn happily ever after because Kurt, what you and I have, that's everything I ever wanted, not some stupid job at a stupid company that won't mean anything if I don't get to share it with you.” At least he was convinced that that bit was true, even if he wasn't sure whether declining the offer was a good idea.

Kurt inhaled deeply a couple of times before he replied. “If the roles were reversed… If it was you stuck here for another 3 and a half years, and I got the opportunity to go away and accomplish what I've set out to do, design amazing clothes with an even more amazing label, what would you do? Would you let me stay and be miserable, or would you let me go?”

Blaine remained silent, because what was there to say? Kurt knew the answer to that question. Articulating it seemed painfully redundant, and denying it would be an insult to Kurt's intelligence.

“Come with me?” he suddenly blurted. “I could, I don't know, I could just stay for the 6 months my contract entails, then we'll both come back to New York and I'll have gotten the practical experience and if I make a good impression, I could reapply for a position once you're finished with your Bachelor's and I'm done with my Master's.”

“How would that even work?” Kurt asked slightly incredulously. “I can't just drop out and enroll and drop out again and re-enroll in programs as I please. And, baby…” he sighed, making to step out of Blaine's embrace, and this time, Blaine let him; his own heart seemed to be tearing apart at the seams, and he didn't know how to hold Kurt's together when he himself was breaking.

“Yeah?”

“I don't want to move to Santa Monica. Like, ever. I have zero interest in California, and I'm pretty sure I'd start resenting you halfway through our stay and then we'd end up b-breaking up anyway.” Kurt's face crumbled again as he stumbled over the “b-word”, and he turned around again, arms wrapping around his middle as he leaned against the wall for support. “We, haaahh,” he drew in a harsh breath, his words interspersed with even more sobs and hiccups and Blaine was fucking dying from watching it and being unable to prevent it, unable to prevent his angel from falling, falling, falling – “we haven't even been together for 6 months. You might end up hating me too if you don't go. This is the kinda stuff that breaks relationships and, if we ever get that far, marriages. It's the kinda stuff that you'll end up throwing in my face during late night fights, the kinda stuff that will make you want to sleep on the couch,” Blaine almost laughed because he knew for a fact that, at least subconsciously, Kurt had chosen that wording because there was no fucking way he'd be the one sleeping on the couch, “the kinda stuff that will make you hate me and no matter what happens from here on out, I could never live with that. I couldn't live with you hating me, I'd die, and I'm not being dramatic here, I, I…”

“I could never hate you,” Blaine interrupted softly when he saw Kurt starting to scratch at his forearm, not hugging Kurt to his chest and shielding him from the inexorable pain like he so desperately wanted to, because he knew that it was him causing it. Instead, he grabbed Kurt's wrist while he let his other hand wander over the expanse of his back and draw patterns which he knew calmed Kurt down. “I wouldn't. I wouldn't throw it in your face. And I know we haven't been dating all that long, all things considered, but imagine we'd met like, two years ago. There's no doubt in my mind we would have been together for this entire time, and no doubt in my mind we will be together for much, much longer than the time we've already been given. It's the circumstances, not the feelings or the compatibility or anything. It's stupid timing. So as far as I'm concerned,” he continued quickly, before Kurt could counter him with some super sensible, rational argument, “this decision is as much yours as it is mine because… Kurt, baby… if I have any say in the matter, these six months will be nothing more than a tiny dot on the endless timeline that is our lives together. It might look huge now, considering how short our timeline still is, but it will be.”

Kurt turned his head towards him to give him a shaky smile. “It's really hard to believe you have so much faith in my ability to keep you for that long, though I know you're serious. I don't think even I have that much faith in myself.”

“That's because you don't realize how utterly perfect you are, and that I'm the one who has to work and be in a constant state of awe that I get to keep you.”

At that, Kurt turned fully, his body colliding with Blaine's and knocking the breath out of him. He pushed him towards the bed and let himself collapse on top of him, curling up into a ball while Blaine instinctively wrapped him in his arms.

“What do you suggest, then?” Kurt whispered after a few minutes of letting himself be held. Or maybe it had been hours. Blaine couldn't tell, way too content with the feeling of the teen's lithe body against his own, seeking comfort in him, even if he did prefer when he didn't need comforting.

“Well… we have another few months before I leave, so I say we calm down for now and see where we stand when the time comes. And let's be honest here, there's couples far less fabulous than us who have managed long distance for far longer than 6 months.” He kissed Kurt's forehead softly. “So maybe we should give it a shot and show them how it's done Klaine style. I'm serious about coming back afterwards. If they really want me, they'll offer me a job after I'm done with my studies.”

Kurt laughed at the mention of the name their friends, and strangely, some teachers had given the two of them. Allegedly, just to shorten the amount of time it takes to say their names separately, but they knew that even with all the haters, there was a die-hard core of people who would bend over backwards to see them get their happily ever after… most importantly, the two of them.

“That's a thought,” Kurt spoke in a hushed voice, his breathing back to normal as he craned his neck to press his lips against Blaine's, letting them convey all the feelings no words could ever seem to describe accurately.

“Your dad is going to kill me for making you cry.”

“My dad loves you, and he's not going to kill you.”

“He told me stories about his shotgun. He named her Mable. Like a freaking cat.”

“He's harmless!”

“He's a psychopath and he's just biding his time!”

Kurt laughed and swatted at Blaine's chest before getting up, supposedly to “wash the snot off his face.” Blaine didn't think much of it when he disappeared for more than 20 minutes after announcing that, thinking he might need some time to digest the emotional turmoil of the day and secretly glad he got the chance to do the same, but upon his return, he realized that that wasn't exactly the case.

His jaw literally dropped as he stared, wide-eyed, at the tall, pale and broad figure appearing in the doorway.

“You're naked,” he blurted, feeling his own dick jump to attention as Kurt closed the bathroom door with a bump of his hip, his cock jutting out majestically as he strutted over to where Blaine was reclining on the bed. Majestic, that's a weird word to describe a cock, his mind provided before it went blank as Kurt crawled on top of him, nibbling a line up his jaw before biting down on his earlobe.

“Make love to me. Show me I'm yours. Let me remind you you're mine.”

With that, he turned around, resting his weight on all fours and encasing Blaine's lower half with his lithe frame as he stuck his ass out into the air, into Blaine's face, like a silent offering.

Blaine didn't need to be told twice. He leaned forward to start nibbling at one cheek before burying his face in the cleft between both, tongue poking out to lap the hole Kurt had already prepared for him. He licked, and sucked, and fucked Kurt both with his tongue and his cock, until the teen was crying out and sobbing beneath him, Blaine's fingerprints imprinted on his hips and his ass, his body jerking wildly, convulsing around Blaine, his cock spattering the sheets with cum, and tears of need and love and maybe a bit sadness rolling down his face. Blaine felt his own eyes mist over and a couple of drops escape them as he screwed them shut and keened, the sound of his skin slapping against Kurt's echoing around them one more time as he buried himself to the hilt and held himself there, claiming him again, and again, and again, with the throbs of his cock releasing deep inside him.

Later, they'd be laughing at the fact that they had both been full-on crying again as they lay down beside one another, each burrowed into the other's hold, tangling their arms and legs in a way that made it impossible to tell where one began and the other ended.

Later, at his graduation ceremony, Blaine would realize that Burt showing up to support him instead of his blood-related family meant that maybe the man did accept him in his son's life after all, and that he could sleep without fear of Mable finding him.

Later, at the terminal as his flight was announced over the speakers and Kurt and him shared a tearful goodbye that would never be funny, not even in hindsight, he'd realize that there was nothing and no one he'd ever love more than Kurt, and nothing and no one he wouldn't give up for the chance to be with him, because being with him was what he'd been waiting for his entire life.

Later, at the Christmas party his company threw and he had to attend before he could make his journey to Lima, Ohio, he'd realize how serious he had been about the “no one he wouldn't give up” part when he didn't even notice that the other intern in his division, a guy he would have been slobbering over just a year and a half ago, was subtly flirting with him until one of his co-workers pointed it out to him. It became even more blatantly obvious when he realized how much he didn't care and that he had no desire to explore his options anymore.

And when he later, finally, fell back into Kurt's arms, the damn brat picking him up and twirling him and their roars of laughter making Burt and Carole pretend not to know them as they looked around awkwardly with barely contained grins, he realized something else. He realized that that hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach and the ache in his chest hadn't been for New York, hadn't been for the distinct lack of sandy beaches filled with sun-bathing tourists and surgically enhanced women and anabolic-enhanced men parading their artificial bodies on the streets. The entire time he spent in Santa Monica, he hadn't been feeling homesick for a city. As the hole filled back up and the seams around it closed and Kurt continued to sway him, although he'd thankfully set him on the ground by now, he also finally realized where his true home lay.