“Well come on!” Burt finally bursts out, bouncing slightly, face split in a wide grin, “The suspense is killing us over here!”

If possible, Kurt gets even paler. “I – I –“ He swallows, “What if-“

“Hey – hey,” Blaine darts across the gap between them and cups Kurt’s cheek with one hand, realizes that one of them is trembling. It’s not Kurt. “I got you,” he slips behind Kurt, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist and presses his face against Kurt’s shoulder. “You’re amazing. They’d have to be blind not to see it.” This position gives Blaine the added bonus of not see Kurt’s acceptance letter right away and the feeling of dread that had been in his stomach since he had seen the address on the envelop loosens a bit. If he can’t see it, it doesn’t exist right?

He’s a horrible boyfriend.

Kurt nods jerkily with an amused, muttered, “You’re more wound up than I am.” Behind the amusement and nerves there is a third layer to his tone, that says he knows exactly why Blaine is behind him. In some ways, he doesn’t want to leave either.

Kurt takes a deep breath. “Right, opening it now.” Slowly, he slips a finger under the flap and slits the envelope open with a perfectly manicured nail. With fumbling fingers, he pulls the folded sheet of paper free and shakes it open. He reads it three times before the words sink in and he muffles a choked gasp with his hand.

Blaine tightens his hold on Kurt’s waist, sure his boyfriend is going to collapse into a heap on the floor at any moment, and swallows past the lump in his throat. He tries to ignore the way it seems to sink all the way to his toes while taking his heart with it along the way. Stealing himself for the inevitable, he raises himself up and braces his chin on Kurt’s shoulder. “Show me.” At least his voice stays steady. Small favors.

Kurt tilts the letter slightly so Blaine can get a good look.

Mr. Hummel

Congratulations! We at the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts are please to-

Blaine doesn’t finish reading, he doesn’t have to. Instead, he turns his head slightly and presses a kiss behind Kurt’s ear. “See? You’re amazing, you’re-“ His throat closes again and he drops back on his heels. Leaving. Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s dropped his arms from Kurt’s waist and is pressing the heel of his hands to his eyes. Oh God.

He’s supportive, really he is. He just-

Kurt drops the letter, Burt catches it before it hits the floor, but Kurt has already forgotten about it. He wraps his arms around Blaine’s shaking form and pulls him tight to his chest. “Hey – shh – it’s okay-“ he presses his face to Blaine’s hair when Blaine finally drops his hands and grips the front of Kurt’s vest instead.

Burt places the letter carefully on the table and slips out of the kitchen. They can celebrate later.

When they pull apart, both are crying. Kurt wordlessly steers Blaine to the table and, kicking out a chair, sits. Blaine sinks into Kurt’s lap, sitting sideways with the table digging into his spine and his heels propped on the edge of the chair. He tries to force himself to relax, but between the pride and terror raging battle in his chest, he finds himself curling closer to Kurt. Kurt holds him tightly and waits it out.

Suddenly, Blaine pulls back only to crash their mouths together. It’s all tongue and teeth and desperation, but Kurt raises a hand to Blaine’s cheek and matches him breath for breath. Really, he expected this sooner. Eventually, they’re resting with their foreheads pressed together and Kurt’s thumb gently wiping the tears from Blaine’s cheek.

“I’m proud of you, I am, so proud. You deserve it so much, more than anybody,” Blaine’s voice cracks and he swallows. “I just really, really don’t want you to go.”

Kurt sighs softly and buries his fingers in the curls that are coming loose at the base of Blaine’s skull. When he speaks, his pain is audible, “Sweetie, we’ve been over this, so many times,” he hesitates for just the briefest of moments. “Are you sure you don’t want me to-“ he trails off, really this shouldn’t be this hard to say. “I – I mean I could – when I asked you to transfer I wasn’t – I didn’t… shit,” he’s mumbling by the end.

Blaine laughs softly, press a kiss to Kurt’s jaw. “Honey, no. I won’t hold you back, not like this, I can’t.” He pauses, taking a deep breath and letting it out hard through his nose. “I’m saying this wrong,” he mumbles. “Go. I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. I’ve known for months you’ll be going, of course I have. This,” he reaches behind him until he feels his fingers close on the acceptance letter, “is just proof and it hit me harder than I thought it would.”

“But – you’ll be here and all alone and –“

“Artie will still be around. And Tina! We can complain about being in long distance relationships and compare the pros and cons of phone and Skype sex over coffee.” He smiles when Kurt snorts against his shoulder. “It’ll be great, you’ll see.” He sounds falsely cheery even to his own ears. “I’ll miss you, of course I will, more than anything,” he’s speaking softer now, “but we’ll talk and text so much our phones won’t be able to keep up. Before you know it you’ll be back for Christmas, a whole month, just the two of us. We’ll make it work.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” Blaine says and grins when Kurt rolls his eyes. “Now come on, let’s call Rachel. I know you’re dying to.”

Kurt grins, “With any luck, hers is late again.”

Blaine laughs as he unfolds himself from Kurt’s lap and stretches, “You’re horrible, it about destroyed her the last time.” He reaches out and pulls Kurt to his feet. “You know she forgot to apply anywhere else, at least you have NYU as a back-up plan, if she doesn’t get in...” he lets the sentence hang, really there aren’t words to describe it.

Kurt had left his phone in his room so, still hand in hand, they leave the kitchen and head towards the stairs. They don’t get very fair, Burt has been waiting, hovering really, near the door and pulls Kurt into a hug the first chance he gets. He doesn’t miss a beat when Blaine stumbles into them and drags him in as well.

Burt opens his mouth to speak, but just ends up closing it again. He knows how much this means to Kurt, what it means to both of them, as different as their emotions might be at the moment. He remembers one night last summer that had the boys curled up on the couch watching a political debate on Kurt’s laptop of all things.

He remembers the way they had sat there silently, holding hands, with Blaine’s legs draped across Kurt’s lap still so uncertain with what they could get away with. He remembers the hope that Kurt couldn’t quite keep from shining in his eyes no matter how hard he tried to keep his hopes from getting too high. Once Burt had realized what was going on, he had set aside his newspaper and joined them on the couch, Blaine shooting him nervous looks as his toes dug into Burt’s thigh, and gripped Kurt’s other hand. He remembers the way both Kurt and Blaine had flinched when they results were announced, expecting a different outcome, the stunned realization that crossed both of their faces a second later, the relieved, choked sob that had escaped from Kurt a moment after that. That was the first time Burt had seen them kiss, firmly enough to leave them both breathless and with tears running down their cheeks. It was the first night he had hugged Blaine, forgetting for a moment that he wasn’t one of his sons.

New York had been in Kurt’s plan for so long that Burt couldn’t remember what had come before it, or if anything even had. Had Kurt ever wanted to be a mechanic? Burt couldn’t remember, but he seriously doubted it. So many of Kurt’s hopes and dreams rested on New York, his expectations for the city so high, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the results of that vote could have tarnished his view of the place forever. New York is a safe haven in a way home, Ohio, never could be. A place where Kurt could be whoever he wanted, with whomever he wanted.

There was really nothing Burt could add to that. So he simply hugged his boys, both of them, tight for second, brushed his lips across Kurt’s temple in a way he hadn’t in years but said everything that needed said, and let them go. He leaves them to wander upstairs and goes to leave Carole a message on her cell for when she gets to take a break in her shift at the hospital.

Blaine glances over his shoulder as Kurt leads him around the bend in the stairs, “Is he going to be alright? That was… weird.”

Kurt gives him a bright, if slightly teary, smile, “He’s fine, really,” he adds when Blaine doesn’t look convinced. “Like you said, this,” he waves the letter, now looking slightly crumpled, around a bit with the hand that isn’t gripping Blaine’s, “is proof. He doesn’t have to say anything.” He stops, just inside his bedroom door and freezes for just a second.

Blaine watches as reality sinks in fully, having been put on hold by his sudden breakdown in the kitchen. He wouldn’t have dreaded the letter quite so much if he had known that this would be the reaction.

Kurt’s grin spread slowly, wide and blinding. It’s Blaine’s favorite, the one with the teeth, the one that makes Kurt seem so alive. Suddenly he’s smoothing the letter out with shaking fingers, dropping Blaine’s hand and stumbling to his desk so he can lay the paper flat. He’s back just as quickly, pulling Blaine against his chest and trembling slightly from too many emotions.

“Oh my god, Blaine!” Then he’s laughing, picking Blaine up and spinning him in a circle. “I did it, I’m actually going.”

Blaine’s grinning when Kurt sets him down; really it’s infectious, in the best way possible of course. Seriously, Kurt’s face right now could cure cancer. Blaine will have to look into that.

“So much to do,” Kurt says and then he’s muttering about packing and books and registering for classes. Within seconds he's debating the pros and cons of a dorm room over and apartment with just Rachel and “Really, Blaine, we should have figured this out before.”

“Woah, woah, hey,” Blaine says with a laugh even as his grin starts to fade. “It’s May, graduation isn’t for another two weeks, you don’t leave until August. It’s plenty of time.” His hands reach up and cup Kurt’s face and rest their foreheads together. “Can’t we just-“ He lets it hang because there it is again, that damned insecurity, the fear of being left behind, forgotten. He swallows.

Kurt holds him tightly, gently sliding one hand into Blaine’s curls and pressing soft, barely there kisses along any part of Blaine he could reach. Oh, this is going to be so much harder than they thought it would be. “It’s only a year, not even, nine months. Eight because of semester break, we can do this. And next June, you’re coming too, right?”

Blaine took a shaky breath.

“It’ll be great remember? You, Tina, coffee and Skype sex, yeah?” He pauses, brow furrowing adorably. “Wait no…”

And just like that, Blaine’s laughing so hard it hurts and trying to stop long enough to kiss the slightly annoyed look from Kurt’s face. He finally manages it and goes to grab Kurt’s phone from the bedside table. “Bit hard to plan without Rachel,” he says as he tosses the phone in Kurt’s direction.

Kurt catches it and rolls his eyes, but he’s dialing even as he’s walking over to settle on his bed with his back against the headboard. He’s putting the phone to his ear as Blaine climbs up next to him, curling into his side and resting his head on Kurt’s chest. Kurt slips a hand into Blaine’s curls and tangles their legs together while he waits for the phone to ring.

Blaine’s gripping the front of Kurt’s vest of them. God, this is getting ridiculous, when did he turn into the clingy boyfriend? Still, Blaine presses his face into Kurt’s chest, breathing him in and savoring the feeling of just being together. He tries to imprint the way Kurt’s arms make him feel at home in a way nothing else can to his memory for when Kurt’s gone. He snuggles in closer. Maybe if he holds on tight enough, Kurt won’t be able to leave.

Well a boy can dream.

“Rach… hold up… I don’t-“ Suddenly, Kurt’s voice goes from completely bewildered to more disbelieving then Blaine has ever heard him. “You – you – and it’s all… okay, breathe Princess. I’m coming, okay? Just hold on for half an hour. Okay... just relax.”

He flinches, pulling the phone from his ear, and Blaine can hear Rachel’s tiny, shrill voice coming from the speaker.

“Relax? Your soul-crushing, life-ruining, jackass of a brother made me lose everything and you want me to relax?”

Blaine raises his eyebrows. He knows that Finn had broken up with Rachel, his fianc�e, over the phone while she had been in New York for her audition, but life-ruining? Really? Reluctantly, he rolls off Kurt, clearly the snuggle-fest that opens his celebratory plans isn’t going to happen. Stupid Rachel.

“Rachel! Rach- oh forget it.” Kurt ends the call and switches it off for good measure.

Blaine sits on the edge of the bed. “Dare I ask?”

Kurt stares at him eyes wide, shock practically written across his face in neon letters. In an instant, he’s on his feet, pulling a duffle bag out of his closet and flipping through his clothes. Finally, he makes a tiny, annoyed noise and grabs one of the pre-put-together outfits he keeps for emergencies. Folding it quickly and neatly, he stuffs it in the bag and ducks into his bathroom returning in seconds with his overnight toiletry kit. Then he’s tossing the strap over his shoulder, snagging Blaine’s wrist and, pausing briefly to grab is phone from the bed and keys from his desk, dragging him out the door and back down the stairs.

“Holy… Kurt, Honey, what’s-“

At the turn in the stairs, Kurt stops and stares at him, for moment he looks like he’s going to explain, but instead he says, “Mercedes, I need to call Mercedes.” The instant his phone is back on (and he’s ignored the three calls he’s already missed from Rachel) he’s dialing Mercedes. The instant she answers he fires off, “Rachel’s five minutes, no arguments,” and hangs up. Still gripping Blaine’s wrist� he takes off down the rest of the stairs.

Burt looks up from his Popular Mechanic magazine in the living room as Kurt drags Blaine through and raises his eyebrows.

All Blaine can do is shake his head and shrug.

Burt mutters, “Well at least it’s a Saturday this time,” and goes back to his magazine.

Kurt drags Blaine out the front door and hesitates when he gets to their cars. “You should probably take yours. Getting you back will probably be next to impossible.” He releases Blaine and, placing a hand in the small of his back, pushes him towards his jeep.

Blaine takes a few steps then pauses, turning, “Please tell me what is going on.”

Kurt tosses his bag into the passenger seat of his Navigator and slams the door shut before he answers.

“She didn’t get in.”