It's late, and Blaine was supposed to be home an hour ago. Next time his father tells him to check the tire pressure, he might just listen, because he's pretty sure that this lesson-being stranded on a dark road at midnight with a flat tire and no help in sight-is one he'll only need to learn once. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs because things couldn't possibly get any worse.

It starts to rain.

He wants to cry. The weight of the entire week comes crashing down on him and once and he just wants to cry, because, honestly, how much can one person be expected to take. Tonight was supposed to be his night to forget about the stresses of having to pack up and move across town on a week's notice, to forget about the fact that he was the one who got the call from the police who found his grandfather dead after a concerned neighbor called to report inactivity around his house. His night to forget that everything in the world seems to be pressing down on him and that there's not a damn thing he can do to fight it.

One night. He just wanted one night without college applications or grieving. All he'd asked for was one night in which he could do something for himself without someone breathing down his neck. Well, he supposes as he laughs once without humor, no one's breathing down his neck now. He kicks at the flat tire petulantly before looking up.

Through the driving rain, he's just able to make out the sight of a large SUV pulling off to the side of the road, the headlights reflecting off the rain as Blaine shields his eyes to get a better look. The door opens and a boy who can't be much older than himself steps out, holding an umbrella and rushing over.

"Hey, what are you doing out on a night like this?" he asks quickly, holding out his arm to let Blaine under the protection of the umbrella. He seems to falter back a step when he walks in front of the headlights. His eyes are trained on Blaine's face and his expression is unreadable, but Blaine answers quickly, grateful for the stranger's presence.

"My car," Blaine points out lamely. "I've got a flat tire."

"Is someone coming for you?" the stranger asks, his expression now back to the concerned mask it was when he stepped out of his car.

Blaine shakes his head. "No, my parents were expecting me home an hour ago. My phone died."

"Get in." The stranger gestures toward his car. "I'll take you home."

"Thank you..." Blaine prompts, holding out his hand.

The stranger smiles widely, and Blaine can just make out the way the smile makes his soft blue eyes crinkle. "Kurt Hummel," he introduces, taking Blaine's hand.

Blaine starts a little at the contact. A ripple of inexplicable, ephemeral fear raises gooseflesh on his arms. The boy's-Kurt's-hand is cool to the touch, but Blaine just writes it off as a product of the cool summer rain. He just wants to get out of the weather. "Blaine Anderson."

It's warm and dry inside the car when Blaine climbs in, and Kurt busies himself with pointing the vents toward Blaine as he turns the heat to its highest setting to help dry Blaine out a little. "Thanks," Blaine says gratefully. Kurt nods in acknowledgment and puts the car into gear.

Blaine buckles his seatbelt and turns toward Kurt. "So, what are you doing out this way?"

"I'm in town visiting an old friend," Kurt explains conversationally, turning toward Blaine for a brief look and a friendly smile.

"It's a little late to be dropping by for a visit, isn't it?"

Kurt just laughs out a short musical sound. "I like to travel at night. It's more peaceful than trying to drive with the sun in your eyes." He scrunches up his nose delicately. "Gives me a headache."

For some reason, he can't seem to take his eyes off Kurt. He finds himself almost studying the graceful planes of his pale face, the delicate curve of his lips as they form a soft smile, and the wise eyes that speak to more knowledge than Kurt should possess at such a young age.

Kurt turns his head and smiles as he catches Blaine staring, and Blaine feels his face heat up as he looks down toward his lap. There's a quiet laugh from Kurt's side of the car even though it's impossible that he's able to see Blaine's blush in the dark confines of the car or hear the frantic thud of his heart beating double-time in his chest.

"Would you like to use my phone to call your parents and let them know you're on your way, because a kind stranger picked you up?" Kurt asks with a fond smile. Blaine just nods stupidly and takes the phone from the cup holder, typing out a quick message to his mother before setting it back where he found it. "Where am I dropping you off, anyway, Blaine?"

A shiver runs down Blaine's spine at the sound of his name falling from Kurt's lips, and it's such a peculiar reaction. He doesn't even know Kurt. Not really. "Um...North Sycamore Street. Do you know where that is?"

Kurt's brow knits as though he's confused and he flicks an unreadable glance toward Blaine before turning his eyes back toward the road. "Yes, I know where that is," he answers. His voice is distant and thoughtful, almost speculative. He casts another glance toward Blaine in contemplation. Though, what Kurt could be contemplating, Blaine's not sure.

The silence in the car turns...strange. Awkward isn't the right word, and it's not necessarily uncomfortable; it's just strange. Blaine still can't quite shake the odd, vague feeling that something is wrong. Though, again, he's not sure what. Kurt must sense Blaine's apprehension, because he flicks on the radio, and Katy Perry's voice drifts from the speakers. Before long, Blaine finds himself staring out the window, watching the raindrops slide down the darkly tinted glass, and humming along with the song.

"Do you sing?" Kurt's voice pulls him from his almost-trance.

"Yeah, I was in my school's glee club before I graduated last month," Blaine says quietly.

"What school?" Kurt asks, and there's a strangely knowing expression on his face.

"Dalton Academy."

Kurt laughs softly. "You were a Warbler, too, huh?"

"Lead soloist," Blaine points out, not at all trying to impress the attractive boy sitting across the car. The admission only seems to draw another laugh out of Kurt as he shakes his head gracefully. Realization dawns on Blaine. "Wait, 'too'? Did you go to Dalton?" He's sure he would have noticed Kurt.

Kurt turns toward Blaine and gives him the softly fond smile as he shakes his head. "No, I just used to know someone who went to Dalton, and he was a Warbler." Kurt laughs quietly. "Lead soloist, in fact."

"Really?" Blaine asks, sitting up straighter. "What's his name? Maybe I know him."

There's humor playing in Kurt's eyes and his voice sounds almost amused when he answers, "It's been a few years. I'm not sure you would have been in high school yet."

"Well, maybe my brother knew him then. He graduated from Dalton, too," Blaine prompts.

Kurt just smiles and shakes his head lightly. "I don't think so, Blaine. You remind me a great deal of him, though." Kurt's tone is light, but there's something hidden deep underneath. As though there's a joke he's not privy to.

"Is that a good thing?" Blaine asks, his voice light.

"Definitely. We were very good friends."

Blaine feels vaguely empowered, so he asks, "Is that who you're in town to see?"

"Yes it is." There's a playful smile on Kurt's lips that makes something flutter in Blaine's stomach. "Now, which house is yours?"

Blaine didn't even realize that they'd turned onto his street, so lost in trying to figure out Kurt's cryptic words. He points toward the brown house on the corner. "That's the one."

This time, Blaine definitely sees shock flicker across Kurt's features, and Kurt's next words sound gauged and calculated. "That's a very nice house," he compliments. "Have you lived there long?"

"No, my family just moved in after my grandfather died a few weeks ago-" Blaine breaks off when pain flashes across Kurt's face. "Hey, are you okay, Kurt?"

Kurt turns quickly and schools his expression into something neutral. "Yes. I'm sorry. I just-I'm very sorry to hear about your grandfather, Blaine. I know what it's like to lose someone close to you, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. I'm very sorry."

The car slows to a stop at the end of Blaine's driveway and he turns toward Kurt. "Thank you, Kurt," he says, smiling gratefully. "For everything."

"Sure," Kurt says quietly, his voice hasn't quite lost the sad edge it held earlier. Blaine's just about to open the door when he's stopped by Kurt's hand on his arm. When he meets Kurt's eyes, they're thoughtful again. He doesn't have a chance to wonder why before Kurt's speaking. "Blaine, would you maybe want to go out to dinner one night?"

Blaine's heart kicks into overdrive and he nods before realizing that he should probably use words. "Sure, Kurt." Blaine feels his lips quirk up into a smile that Kurt returns. It looks genuine enough, and Blaine finds himself glad that Kurt seems a little less sad. He takes Kurt's phone and puts his number into the contacts list, handing it back to Kurt with a smile.

"I'll text you," Kurt says, his voice soft and there's a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Goodnight, Blaine."

"Goodnight, Kurt," Blaine returns, feeling more than a little dumbstruck by the fact that the most beautiful boy he's ever seen has just asked him out to dinner. He does his best to climb gracefully out of the car and shut the door. The rain has stopped and he stands at the end of his driveway and watches Kurt drive away, the black Navigator disappearing into the dark.

Maybe something good came out of tonight after all.

After a shower, Blaine falls into bed, his head spinning as he drifts to sleep to thoughts of soft blue eyes, pale skin, and a warm smile.

----------------

The next morning, Blaine is just setting to unpacking the rest of the boxes in his room when his phone rings. His heart jumps into his throat when he reads Kurt's name on the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Blaine," Kurt greets brightly. A wide smile spreads across Blaine's face. "Were your parents upset that you were so late last night?"

"No, they understood. My father took me to get my car this afternoon," Blaine explains, sitting down on his bed and shifting back against the headboard. "Did you make it to your friend's house last night?"

There's a moment's hesitation before Kurt says, "I stopped by, but he wasn't there."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure he would have been happy to see you," Blaine offers. "Are you going to try again?"

"I don't think so. I spoke to someone and they said that he wasn't coming back, so..." Kurt's voice is just a touch sad and Blaine reels for a way to cheer him up but comes up short. Thankfully, Kurt's voice is brighter when he speaks again. "But, I'm not calling to talk about that," he dismisses, his voice brightening. "I'd like to know if you were still interested in having dinner with me."

Blaine fights the urge to fist pump the air, and his smile is so wide it's almost painful. "Of course, Kurt. When?"

"Tonight," he says simply. "If it's alright with you, I could pick you up at six."

"I'd love that," Blaine answers breathlessly, feeling very much wooed by Kurt in a way he can't even describe. "I'll see you at six, then?"

There's a smile in Kurt's voice. "I'll see you at six, then," he repeats. "Goodbye, Blaine."

"Bye," Blaine breathes, smiling widely as he disconnects the call and throws himself off his bed to start getting ready. He's only got three hours.

By the time six o'clock rolls around, Blaine is dressed and ready to go. The biggest challenge is not seeming as though he's been waiting right by the door when Kurt arrives, so he busies himself with tidying up the already tidy front room, and he nearly jumps out of his skin when the doorbell rings.

He opens the door quickly and is nearly knocked breathless by the sight in front of him. If he thought Kurt was beautiful in the dark of the car, it's nothing compared to how he looks now, the soft glow of the porch light playing on his porcelain pale skin and making his bright blue eyes sparkle. He's dressed in artfully distressed jeans and a pale gray short sleeve shirt covered by a charcoal gray waistcoat.

Before Blaine can even filter the thought, he hears himself blurt, "God, Kurt, you look amazing."

A bright smile touches Kurt's face. "You're not so bad yourself," he notes, his tone playful and soft.

Blaine returns the smile, knowing the one on his own face is almost stupidly happy before he does a final check of his pockets to make sure he's not forgetting anything. He grimaces as he pats his back pocket. "Damn, my wallet," he curses. "I thought I had it. Do you mind if I...?" He gestures in a silent question toward the stairs and Kurt motions for him to proceed, smiling fondly.

"You don't have to stand out there," Blaine adds as an afterthought. "I'm sorry. Please, come in."

Kurt watches his foot as he takes a hesitant step past the threshold before coming the rest of the way inside without hesitation.

"I'll just be a second," Blaine apologizes, turning to dart up the stairs to his bedroom to retrieve his wallet from his nightstand before dashing back down the stairs with a mumbled, "Sorry about that."

Kurt turns from where he was looking at a framed picture on the wall-Blaine and his grandfather on their last fishing trip. There's a warm smile on Kurt's face, and his hand is half-raised toward the frame. "You have his eyes," Kurt notes, closing the distance between his hand and the glass of the picture.

"That's what my father tells me." Blaine crosses the room to stand next to Kurt and admire the picture. "He showed me a picture of my grandpa when he was my age, and it's almost creepy how much we resemble each other."

"I can see that," Kurt says simply, his voice amused for a reason Blaine doesn't understand. When he looks over toward Kurt's face, he sees that Kurt is watching him with a contemplative expression. The constant warmth in his eyes is still very much present, and Blaine finds himself smiling under the adoring gaze. "There's definitely a very strong family resemblance."

Kurt laughs at his own humor, and Blaine just smiles, saying, "So I've been told."

Kurt rests a hand on the small of Blaine's back and prompts, "Are we all set to go? Did you get your wallet?"

"Yep. All ready to go." Blaine pats his pocket and smiles widely. Kurt returns the smile and guides them both through the living room, opening the door and gesturing for Blaine to go first before shutting it behind them both and leading him to the car.

There's silence for a few seconds as they get into the car. Blaine buckles his seatbelt before turning toward Kurt. "Where are we going anyway?"

Kurt smiles and there's light in his eyes as he lilts the words, "You'll see. It's a surprise."

"Can I get a hint?" Blaine plays along, his expression turning pleading in a way that makes Kurt laugh softly.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like a puppy when you beg like that?"

"Am I a cute puppy?" Blaine asks brightly, fluttering his eyelashes playfully for effect, and Kurt laughs again.

"The cutest."

They drive for almost an hour, and Blaine has no idea where they're headed. Kurt is less than helpful with his constant answer of "You'll see," but it's easy to lose track of the time with Kurt, it seems. There's a steady stream of conversation ranging from music to politics. Kurt, it turns out, seems to favor the music of classic Broadway but loves Lady Gaga.

"I saw her perform in New York, once," Kurt admitted. "It was the most amazing night of my life." He hesitated, flicking a glance to Blaine and smiling wryly. "Well, one of them, anyway."

Blaine flushed bright red and cast his gaze to his lap.

Apparently, according to Kurt, they are almost to wherever it is they're going, so Blaine starts looking around. It's secluded, and he thinks they're heading toward where his grandfather used to take him fishing, so he asks, "Are we going to the lake?"

"Sort of," Kurt says, turning onto a tree-lined country road that twists and winds. "I just-Well, I guess I can tell you now that we're close enough. I just thought, since it's such a pretty night, we could sit out and have a picnic under the stars, now that we're far enough away from the city that we can see them all."

And, if Blaine needed another reason to be falling for Kurt, there it is. His heart swells and he feels a surge of warmth, because he'd never imagined in his wildest dreams that someone would actually take him on a date to watch the stars. It's the single most romantic idea.

"Kurt," Blaine gushes. "That's-That's actually perfect."

He's knocked even more dumbstruck by the way Kurt smiles hugely at his reaction, and God, he's doomed. It's been two days and he's already sure he's fallen hard for Kurt Hummel.

Kurt hums softly to the music drifting from the speakers until he drives to the end of the road. It's a clearing that looks like it was once graveled and worn but now looks a bit overgrown and unused. The sight gives Blaine pause. It looks exactly like a scene from a movie. The sight is overlooking the town, the lights small and sparkling like stars from such a distance, but they're not bright enough to obscure the view of the clear night sky.

"Once upon a time, this used to be where kids would come to make out. Like a 'Lover's Lane' sort of place," Kurt says conversationally before breathing out a laugh. "It would have been back when your grandfather was young, I think."

"How do you know about it?" Blaine asks, unbuckling his seatbelt to look around better. "This doesn't really look like it's seen a lot of traffic in years."

"Word gets around, I suppose. I know a lot about the area," Kurt answers with a shrug. "In any case, it's my favorite place to come and think, and I figured you'd like it. You look like the romantic type," Kurt notes. "And it doesn't get much more romantic than this." Kurt lips quirk up into a smile as he slides gracefully out of the car and moves to the backseat to gather an armful of stuff.

Blaine steps out into the clearing and looks around, his eyes never quite able to land on one thing for very long, intent on taking in the entire picture. "God, Kurt, this place is beautiful," he breathes incredulously, startling slightly when he feels Kurt's hand-still surprisingly cool to the touch in a way that makes Blaine shudder and causes something uncomfortable to tug at his consciousness. He shrugs it off and smiles, feeling very content to let himself be dragged to where Kurt has set a blanket on the ground, a lantern burning in the middle in order to illuminate the sandwiches and Cokes laid out for each of them.

"Sorry it's not very fancy," Kurt apologizes with a grimace. "I didn't have much time to prepare."

"Kurt," Blaine reaches across the blanket to squeeze the other boy's hand. "This is perfect. I love it."

They eat in comfortable silence, both just gazing down at the twinkling lights of the city and holding hands across the blanket. When they finish, Kurt packs the plates and trash into the picnic basket and sets it aside before stretching out on the blanket on his back, peering up at the sky, and Blaine quickly does the same, sighing in contentment when he feels Kurt's fingers lace with his own and start idly sliding his thumb across the back of Blaine's hand.

Kurt points toward the sky. "Look, in the middle there, do you see that constellation that looks sort of like a scorpion? It's called Scorpius."

Blaine nods and points, "Right there?"

"Yeah, that's it. That's my favorite," Kurt explains, shifting closer to Blaine. "What about you? Do you have a favorite?"

"I like Orion. Sometimes, I like to lie in the backyard and stare up at it, even though it's cold outside," Blaine answers, his voice is soft and relaxed, and he's pretty sure he could fall asleep if he tried.

Kurt laughs softly and drags Blaine closer until he's all but resting his head on Kurt's chest. He hears the words vibrate through Kurt's body as he explains. "It's really funny you should say that, actually. The story goes that Orion, the great hunter, wanted to kill all of the animals on Earth, so Gaia sent a giant scorpion to attack him. No matter how hard Orion tried, he couldn't kill the scorpion, and eventually, the scorpion won by stinging Orion with his tail and poisoning him. So, in the sky, Scorpius and Orion are never together, because Orion won't come out until after Scorpius is gone because he's afraid of him. Which is why Scorpius comes out in July and Orion doesn't come out until November."

"How do you know all that?" Blaine asks with an incredulous laugh.

He feels Kurt shrug. "I like to learn. My dad told me that when I was a kid, and I guess it just stuck with me."

"You're amazing, Kurt." The words come out with an air of soft amazement, and Blaine feels Kurt's fingers start to card through his hair in response, so he sighs out another breath of contentment. "Tonight was perfect," he says simply.

"Yes, it was," Kurt agrees, wrapping his arm around Blaine's shoulders to pull him closer. "At the risk of sounding very forward, I really like you, Blaine."

Blaine smiles widely in response. "Well, at the risk of sounding very forward, I really like you, too, Kurt," Blaine teases playfully before lapsing into comfortable silence, the only sound to be heard is the quiet rustling of the wind through the trees and the crickets chirping in the nearby high grass.

"How old are you, Blaine?" Kurt asks, his face scrunching up slightly in thought.

"Seventeen. Why?"

"Just wondering. You seem much older than seventeen," Kurt says thoughtfully, and Blaine can only wonder where his mind has taken him now.

Kurt always seems to be lost in thought. His eyes are much wiser than his years should allow, and he carries himself with all of the grace of a silent film star. And that's when Blaine realizes what's so unique about Kurt. It's that it seems as though Kurt is a transplant from a bygone era of charm and soft spoken manners. Of grace and wit that's just not found today.

So, Blaine hears himself admit, "Yeah, so do you."

The words are met by yet another inexplicable chuckle before Kurt sits up. "We should get you home. It's getting late."

Blaine breathes out a deep sigh as he lets himself be helped to a sitting position. "I don't want to go home yet," he admits. "It's so peaceful here."

Kurt's hand falls to rest on Blaine's bare arm, sliding across his bicep and down to take his hand. "I know what you mean. It's been a long time since I've been this happy."

A slow smile touches Blaine's face and his eyes fall to where Kurt is holding his hand between them. He brings his other hand to hold Kurt's between both of his own to warm it.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asks with a quizzical smile, watching Blaine's hands covering his own.

"Your hands are cold, so I wanted to make them warm." Blaine blushes a little at the admission and his smile turns shy. "I could stop if it's weird..."

"It feels wonderful. Your hands are so warm," Kurt says affectionately. There's unreadable emotion in his eyes that Blaine is beginning to think he'll never quite understand, but Kurt's smile is warm and kind, so he takes it as a good thing. Kurt shakes his head as though in disbelief. "You are amazing. Absolutely amazing."

Blaine bites his lip and watches emotions flicker across Kurt's face before he hears Kurt whisper, "May I kiss you, Blaine?"

Blaine is slightly in shock and struck dumb by everything that is Kurt and he nods minutely before Kurt is leaning across the small gap between their laps and kissing him softly. Kurt's lips are soft and, unsurprisingly, cool as they brush gently against Blaine's, and Blaine's breath catches as his heart starts beating rabbit-quick from the surge of pure electricity that passes through him at the contact.

The kiss is over just as quickly as it began and Kurt nuzzles the tip of his nose against Blaine's before pulling away with a soft smile as his eyes flutter open, the soft blue of his irises dazzling in the dim lantern light.

"Wow," is all Blaine can think to say, and he's almost positive that he's staring at Kurt like a lovestruck puppy, but he can't find the control to act normal. Not after that. But Kurt's eyes are warm and adoring, and he can't help but get lost in them.

"Wow, indeed," Kurt returns with a soft breathy laugh, his eyes looking just a little dazed before he recovers. "So, we should probably definitely get you home now."

The drive back to Blaine's is comfortably quiet, both sitting in companionable silence only broken by their voices weaving together as they sing along with the radio, but when they get into Lima proper, Kurt's face scrunches up in thought. "You seem distracted."

It's not an accusation. It's more of a prompt, so Blaine frowns apologetically. "I had an amazing time tonight, Kurt."

Kurt laughs softly and takes Blaine's hand across the console. "And that's a reason to look sad?"

"No." Blaine breathes out a nervous laugh. "It's just...You said that you're just in town to visit your friend. You're going to have to go home soon. I'm surprised your parents let you stay after your friend wasn't home."

Kurt's shaking his head. "I've been on my own for awhile now. No parents." His eyes go distant for a moment before he shakes his head again and smiles softly. "Let's not worry about that now, alright. There's really no rush on when I have to get home, so we've got plenty of time."

They've stopped at a red light now, so Kurt smiles reassuringly. "Come here," he says, his voice soft and quiet, before leaning across the console and kissing Blaine quickly on the lips. "Let's just focus on the here and now. Because right now, I'm with the most amazing boy, and that's all that matters, okay?"

"Okay." The word is nothing more than a breath, and he's shocked that Kurt can hear it over the radio, but he seems to catch it, because he smiles widely and kisses Blaine again before turning back to the road.

It's easy to get lost in Kurt's presence. He's warm and kind and smart, and he's everything Blaine has ever dreamed of but never expected to have. It just seems as though there's so much about Kurt that he doesn't know, so he decides to start asking.

"Kurt, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Blaine." Kurt's voice is earnest and sure. "What do you want to know?"

Blaine shifts in his seat before turning his head toward Kurt. "Are you sick or something?" Blaine asks before quickly hedging. "Not sick like sick in the head, but when you were holding me earlier, you were cold. It felt like you'd been out snow without a jacket." Discomfort is radiating from Kurt and Blaine immediately worries that he's crossed some sort of boundary and offended him. "I'm sorry. That was rude," Blaine apologizes miserably. "I just—"

"Don't apologize, Blaine. I said you could ask me anything, and I meant that. It's just—I don't really have a good answer for you. It's very complicated." Kurt's words are careful and calculated, his face more serious than Blaine has seen it yet, and the expression makes him look much older, more weathered.

There's only one really important thing to Blaine. "But, you're not sick?"

"No, I'm not sick," Kurt assures.

"Good." Blaine nods, feeling relieved. "I was just worried."

Kurt's face is still serious, but there's incredulity in his eyes. He turns his gaze on Blaine and it looks very much like he's studying Blaine before he says, "You are very peculiar, Blaine Anderson."

"Good peculiar or bad peculiar?" Blaine asks, his lips quirking up into a smile that Kurt returns.

"Definitely 'good peculiar'," Kurt decides. "It's just…I tell you that something is complicated, and you didn't push. You just wanted to make sure I was okay."

"I can handle complicated," Blaine answers with a shrug. "I just was worried that you weren't well."

They're pulling up in front of Blaine's house now, and Kurt cuts the engine, climbing out of the car to open Blaine's door and offering a hand to help Blaine to the ground. He laces their fingers together as he shuts the passenger's side door.

"Thank you for going out with me tonight, Blaine," Kurt says as he walks with Blaine toward the front porch. "I had the most amazing time with you." Blaine blushes and looks down toward his shoes. Kurt just laughs and tilts his chin up until their eyes meet. "I'd be honored if you wanted to see me again," Kurt prompts, his voice brimming with hopefulness.

Something about looking directly into Kurt's eyes tends to strike Blaine dumb, and he flounders lamely to answer. When he finally finds words, they come out in a breath. "Of course, Kurt."

Kurt's entire face lights up in a beaming smile that almost sends Blaine staggering backwards. He's sure that Kurt Hummel is the most beautiful person he's ever seen. Excitement dances in Kurt's eyes and he's softly asking, "May I—"

"Kurt, you don't have to ask," Blaine says with a soft laugh. "Just kiss me."

A bright peal of laughter comes from Kurt and he leans forward and captures Blaine's lips again. They're both smiling a little too widely to make the kiss really work, but somehow it's perfect. When Kurt pulls back, he's still smiling, and he raises a hand to stroke Blaine's cheek, an adoring smile on his lips. "You looked beautiful tonight, Blaine. I didn't say it, but I should have."

"Thank you," Blaine breathes, his eyes fluttering shut at Kurt's touch. "You too."

Kurt leans forward and kisses Blaine again, more seriously this time. It's soft and chaste, but Blaine feels his breathing speed up as he kisses back. Too soon, Kurt pulls away, smiling softly as his eyes linger on Blaine's lips before shaking his head and tearing his gaze away from Blaine's mouth. He lifts their intertwined hands to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of Blaine's hand. "Goodnight, Blaine."

"Goodnight, Kurt," Blaine returns, his voice whisper quiet and awestruck. Kurt kisses him again quickly before giving his hand a parting squeeze and turning back toward his car. "Kurt, wait."

Kurt turns back toward where Blaine stands on the porch.

"Will you text me when you get back to wherever you're staying, so that I know you made it home alright?" Blaine asks awkwardly, feeling a little bit relieved when the question makes Kurt smile.

"So worried about me." Kurt teases fondly as he shakes his head before he smiles softly and says, "Of course, I will, Blaine."

"Goodnight, Kurt," Blaine repeats with a smile. "Thank you for tonight."

"Anytime, Blaine," Kurt answers brightly. "Sleep well."

That night, Blaine dreams of sitting on the front porch in his grandfather's rocking chair. He's drinking lemonade and watching kids play in the street. The scene is familiar and different all at once. It's immediately clear that he's at his grandfather's house, but there are small differences, ones he remembers seeing in an old photo album. There's a wooden screen door he recognizes as the one that's leaning against the shed in the back yard, rotting as the wood falls apart from age. He'd watched his father replace the door about ten years ago.

The most noticeable change, and the one which piques Blaine's interest the most, are the children playing in the street. They're noisily kicking a can back and forth across the small, deserted lane. (Though that lane has long since been changed into a two-way street.) There's something off about the children themselves, though, and it's not until Blaine spots a familiar someone walking down the street toward the house, that he realizes what's different.

His clothes.

Kurt looks gorgeous, not that Blaine expected otherwise, but he looks straight out of a classic movie in a pair of blue jeans, a short-sleeved white shirt, and a charcoal gray pinstripe vest, the entire outfit accentuated by a patterned red summer scarf. It is classic and stylish and so innately Kurt.

His face lights up when he sees Blaine standing on the porch, dashing up the stairs with practiced ease and dropping down in the chair across from him. He sits quietly for a moment before he smiles sheepishly and gestures toward the flower bed. "The garden looks good. Your mother did a good job this year," he compliments a little awkwardly before he sighs and looks out toward the street. "I came over to tell you something, and I don't think you're going to be happy."

"What?" Blaine is nervous now, a sense of dread seeping in.

"Finn joined the army this morning," Kurt says.

Blaine's sure there's more to this story than Kurt coming over to tell him that his brother (How did I know that was his brother?) joined the army, so he prompts, "And?" Fearing the worst.

"I enlisted, too." There's a jolt and it feels like Blaine's entire world stops. He feels inexplicable tears pricking at his eyes, but Kurt's continuing. "I know I said we'd talk about it first, but I can't sit back and do nothing. Our boys are dying over there, and I'm not doing anything. And now, they bombed one of our bases in Hawaii. It's on our shores now, George."

George?

There's a shift and in Blaine's place, sits the teenage version of his grandfather. He's turned toward Kurt and he opens his mouth to speak. "Kurt, your dad lost your mom. Don't make him lose you, too."

Kurt stands up and starts pacing the porch, running a hand through his hair. "I already talked to him, and he says that I should do what I think is right, and this is what I need to do."

"I don't like this, Kurt, but we've been best friends since grade school, and if you say this is what you want..." his grandfather's voice trails off and he sighs deeply before his face turns determined. "I'm not letting you go alone. If you enlist, I'm going too."

Blaine's almost positive that when he wakes up, he's going to have a headache, because the dream shifts again just as Kurt is reaching out to shake his grandfather's hand, and Blaine can feel Kurt's hand slide into his own. It's warm.

It's that realization that finally jars Blaine awake, his eyes flying open. His heart is trying to beat its way out of his chest and he's overheated under the blankets. His room is just barely light when he sits up and takes a deep breath, because what in the hell was that?

After getting up to get a drink of water, he manages to fall back asleep for a few more hours, waking up around ten to a text message from Kurt saying that he probably won't be in touch for most of the day as he has something to attend to, but he promises to call when he gets finished.

When he finally decides to actually get out of bed, there's a list of chores magneted to the fridge with the words, "Daddy and I will be out until late. There's money on the counter for you to order something. –Mom"

Blaine sighs deeply and takes the chore sheet from under the magnet. At least he's got something to do while he waits.