From: Nick
Kurt! Meet me at Starbuck's in the mall in ten minutes. I'm buying you some clothes, and I'm not taking no for an answer.

From: Kurt
Nick! What are you doing here?

From: Nick
We need to talk. You have nine minutes.

From: Kurt
Nick, I can't let you do that.

From: Nick
It's my expense account, I'll do what I want with it.

From: Kurt
You know I don't believe that it's YOUR expense account.

From: Nick
Please?

From: Kurt
Sign up for my Bokwa class tonight, and you have a deal.

From: Nick
:)

From: Nick
What's Bokwa?

Kurt had to hand it to Nick. He knew how to take his mind off his troubles. They spent the first hour of their trip to Nordies picking out eight more pairs of those criminal velvet pants while Nick drilled Kurt on more ideas of how Nick could torture his boyfriend in bed. It seemed that just being around Kurt had corrupted poor Nick, but Jeff didn't really mind.

The card Nick used to pay had no name on it. It looked like a corporate card of some sort, so Kurt couldn't really tell if Nick was using his own expense account or not.

Nick's next question left no doubt.

"Um...Kurt," Nick said, looking down at his locked fingers and twiddling his thumbs, "I was supposed to be all secret squirrel about this, but as you can probably tell me and the concept of subtle don't really have a good working relationship, so I'm just going to say it."

Kurt looked at Nick, eyebrow raised.

"Blaine...asked me...to ask you...uh...since I'm here...ifthekidsneedanything?"

The last words sped out from between Nick's lips like a bullet train, and smacked Kurt full on in the chest. Kurt's first reaction was to say no. Kurt didn't need charity. It was enough that Blaine had just spent a small fortune on clothes Kurt had no idea when he was going to get the chance to wear, but the kids...it seemed...like pity.

Kurt bit his lip and stared at Nick, his wide puppy dog eyes almost pleading with Kurt to say yes. Kurt sighed.

"Shoes," he relented. "They need shoes."

Nick clapped his hands together. He grabbed some of Kurt's bags, looped an arm through his, and nearly skipped them down to the shoe department.

Kurt loved Nick's impromptu visit, but he was more than sure that the man was on a recon mission from Blaine. While sitting at Starbucks, drinking his non-fat mocha, Nick told him a story he wasn't sure how he could believe - the story of what Nick heard while he was standing outside Blaine's hotel room the night of the gala. Blaine hadn't asked Nick to. Blaine didn't even know that Nick had heard.

Nick felt Kurt needed to know.

"But you can't tell him I told you, please," Nick pleaded.

Kurt was shocked.

"Why didn't he tell-" Kurt stopped. He knew why Blaine hadn't told him. Kurt hadn't given him a chance. Then, Kurt had a horrible thought. The studio, Brad, they would all put his kids in danger.

"But, now I have to break up with him, don't I?"

Nick's eyes went wide. His face fell.

"What? No! Why?" Nick asked. "Why would you do that?"

"They're going to try to have my kids taken away," Kurt said incredulously. "I love Blaine, I do. With all my heart. But I have to protect my kids."

"Do you think that Blaine would let them do anything to your kids?" Nick looked shocked. "They have him on a really short chain right now. Press junkets, interviews, photo sessions, tour P.R. They say jump and he says how high. And why do you think he's doing all of this? Why do you think he's agreeing to all of their ridiculous demands? To keep you guys out of this."

Kurt sighed. He felt horrible. He never dreamed things would turn out this way. Not for poor Blaine.

"If you break up with him now," Nick said, his voice heavy, "then he'll have done it all for nothing. And he loves you, Kurt. He really, really loves you."

"Yeah," Kurt agreed nodding. "But is it worth it?"

Nick took Kurt's hands.

"The only reason you should ever break up with someone is if you stop loving them. Can you sit there and tell me that you've stopped loving Blaine?"

Kurt dropped his head to their linked hands on the table with a frustrated sigh.

"No," Kurt mumbled. "No, I can't say that. I probably love him right now more than I ever have. I just...I'm confused. And I don't know what I should do. It doesn't just affect me."

Nick squeezed Kurt's hands.

"Blaine knows that."

Kurt lifted his head, and looked down at Nick's hands holding his. A bright smile spread across his lips. Nick's wrists were wrapped in leather bracers, but as one got loose and started to slip, Kurt could see a bright red scar.

Kurt looked up into Nick's blushing face. Nick knew he had been caught.

"You switched!" Kurt said with a giggle.

"Shhh!" Nick said, pulling his arms away and hiding them under the table. "Don't tell anyone!"

Kurt looked around.

"Wh-who am I going to tell, Nick?" Kurt and Nick laughed. Kurt put his hands out, coaxing Nick's arms back up from under the table. Nick revealed them shyly. Kurt took his wrist, removing the bracer and eying the marks.

"Damn, Nick," Kurt said, his lips twisted in a wry smile, remembering the marks that were left on Blaine's wrists when he pulled on his binds so hard that they bled. "These look a little painful."

"Well," Nick rolled his eyes, "maybe a little bit, but it was definitely worth it. With pleasure comes a little pain."

Kurt looked up into Nick eyes, open and honest.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Look, Kurt..." Nick took Kurt's hands again. "I know you have to protect your kids, but how can taking this on by yourself be better than doing it with Blaine? Some things are worth the risk. I know that there is nothing I can't do as long as I have Jeff by my side."

Kurt nodded.

"I promise," Kurt said. "I'll think of a way to make this up to him. I just need a little more time."

Blaine and Jeff were playing a game of pool in Blaine's game room when they heard a car pull in the driveway.

"Nicky's back!"

Jeff bounded out of the room like a flash. Blaine had to smile. With the amount of sex those two had been having lately, Blaine was amazed that Jeff could still walk straight.

From the conversation Nick and Jeff were having in the foyer, it seemed that walking was something Nick could no longer do correctly.

"Oh my God, Nicky!" Jeff lamented as he collected his boyfriend in his arms and walked him to the sofa. "Is he demonstrating stuff on you now?"

Jeff sounded more amused, and maybe even a little excited, than worried.

"No," Nicky said, waving his hand dismissively. "He wouldn't let me take him shopping unless I signed up for a Bokwa class he was teaching at the rec center."

Blaine laughed behind his hand. Jeff's eyes lit up.

"You took a Bokwa class?" Jeff looked amazed. "How did you survive?"

"It's easy if you just focus on Kurt's ass," Nicky joked. "Dude, his body is amazing! Blaine, you're lucky as fuck."

Blaine blushed. Jeff looked mildly annoyed.

"So, is he..."

"Still head over heels in love with you? You betcha."

"And we're..."

"Still boyfriends? Without a doubt."

"And he..."

"Misses you like crazy? Definitely."

"And did he..."

Nick smiled.

"Shoes. A pair for each."

Blaine smiled.

Knock, knock.

The door to Blaine's trailer opened and Trent, his accountant, walked in, holding papers Blaine recognized as bank statements. He had a big smile on his face.

"Hey, Blaine!" Trent tried to be cheerful for his still slightly depressed friend, who stared blankly at his iPhone as if waiting for it to do something. "I've got some good news."

"Yeah," Blaine mumbled, not even looking up.

"It looks like you have an overage in your account."

Blaine looked at Trent as if he had just grown a third head.

"An overage?" Blaine reached for the papers.

"Yeah, and it's quite a sizable one. You could go to Aruba for a week. You could even take your favorite accountant." Trent winked as he handed over the papers.

Blaine looked at the statements. He rubbed his forehead with a tired hand as he looked over the numbers and the names. Then he looked at it again. Realization hit him, and he knew why the numbers didn't add up...where exactly the overage was coming from. Kurt.

Knock, knock.

"Dave?" Kurt called out, balancing the laundry basket on his hip while he dodged a ball that narrowly missed his head. "Hey, no ball playing in the house!"

Knock, knock, knock.

"Dave, can you get the door, please?"

"No can do, babe," Dave called from the bathroom, "I'm giving Eva another bath."

"Is she still covered in paint?"

Knock, knock, knock, KNOCK.

"Ugh," Kurt grunted, making his way through the cramped hallway to the mudroom and the back door. "Junior, if you put another pancake in your mouth, I'm diving in after it. COMING!"

Kurt made his way to the back door, blowing a stray lock of hair out of his face. Using his free hand he fumbled with the dead bolt and yanked on the door handle, but the metal door was stuck.

"Mother fucker-" he groaned as the door flew open and he dropped the basket of laundry on the ground. "Hello?"

The word stuck in his throat and his mouth hung open. Blaine stood on his top step, smirking a little. He must have heard the whole exchange before Kurt opened the door, and Kurt could feel the color rise in his cheeks.

"Blaine?" he choked out. "What are you doing here?" Kurt was stuck somewhere between leaping into his arms and dying of embarrassment.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Blaine asked smoothly, as if Kurt wasn't standing before him in a faded t-shirt and stained sweat pants, a pile of dirty laundry littering his feet and spilling out onto the steps.

"Uh..." Kurt bent over quickly to start gathering up the laundry, "um, no. No, I can't." Kurt made a concerted effort not to look up into Blaine's eyes. Blaine knelt down to look into his.

"Why not?" he whispered, putting a hand over Kurt's, effectively stilling it. Kurt looked up at Blaine.

"This..." Kurt said, gesturing with his free hand at the small trailer, "is not me...it's not us. It's just the horrible situation we've been put into. And if you go in there, I will never be able to resolve that image of you...beautiful, sexy, amazing you...in there. I think I'd rather put a stake through my own eye. So, no. You can't come in. And you didn't answer my question...why are you here?"

The sound of a ball hitting the wall snapped Kurt's head around.

"Junior!" Kurt yelled, picking up the laundry basket and tossing it onto the dryer. "What did I tell you?"

"Sorry, Kurt."

Kurt ran a frustrated hand through his hair as his mind tried to ascertain the potential damage, when he remembered Blaine...standing in the doorway...had just heard Kurt let fly with his "dad yell".

'Well, there's that image shattered,' Kurt thought as he chanced a sideways glance to the gorgeous man, who was now leaning against the door jam and smirking like mad.

"You're still not coming in," Kurt said. Just then, a young boy made his appearance in the small room.

"Kurt, Barbra's trying to duct tape Elphaba to the wall again," he announced.

"Oh, crap, Finn Christopher! Why didn't you stop her?"

Kurt pushed himself past the boy and headed into the house.

"You told me not to touch Barbra!" the boy called out after him.

"You could have grabbed the baby!" Kurt yelled back.

"Oops," the boy said quietly.

He was looking down at his Converse sneakers, fraying and coming away from the soles, almost as if he didn't even notice Blaine standing in the doorway. His eyes moved up finally as a breeze blew in, and his eyes locked on the man in the Marc Jacobs suit standing at the back door.

"You're the hobbit man," the boy said, as if it was the most logical statement in the world.

"What?" Blaine asked, thoroughly confused.

The boy extended a hand, "My name's Finn, but everyone just calls me Junior."

"Blaine," Blaine introduced himself, shaking the boy's hand. "Blaine Anderson."

"I know," Finn said, averting his eyes. "Do...do you want to come in? It's a little messy, but you don't want to stand out here too long. We'll get flies in here."

"Yikes." Blaine stepped inside, seeing this boy's invitation as his loophole to come in. Finn leaned against the dryer to let Blaine pass, and locked the door behind him. Blaine stepped through the doorway and into the hall. He was immediately shocked by the image that greeted him. The tiny trailer actually seemed smaller than it looked from the outside. The interior of the house was literally coming apart. Kurt had said it was an older trailer. Wood paneling on the walls was held up with duct tape, and one part of the hallway had no ceiling.

There was clutter everywhere - not like hoarder clutter though. In fact, it looked like someone had taken great pains to make sure that every thing had a place, and tried to put those items there. It was just the kind of mess that came from shoving six people in a house made for two.

Toys were scattered all over the floor. Kurt was busy, calmly talking to a bouncy little girl with straight brown hair while slowly and carefully removing silver tape from the dress of another. Kurt patted the hair of the bouncy little girl, who hobbled off with a peculiar limp. He put the toddler, now free of adhesives, into the playpen.

Kurt saw Blaine, staring at him in shock. He dropped his head, raising his arms in exasperation, and put a hand over his eyes.

"I never wanted you to see this."

Blaine spun slowly around, taking everything in. What Brad had said about Kurt's house was right.

"I don't understand." Blaine looked around with sad eyes. "You make good money, don't you?"

Kurt blushed furiously, out of humiliation and anger.

"I don't make superstar Blaine Anderson money, but we get by." A sarcastic edge crept into Kurt's voice.

"I paid you a lot of money," Blaine continued, not seeming to register Kurt's discomfort.

Kurt scoffed. Of all the things that Blaine cared about, Kurt didn't imagine that money was on top of that list.

"Is that what this is about?" Kurt shot back incredulously. "Your money?"

"No," Blaine said, his voice getting soft as he turned his eyes to look at Kurt. "No, it's not. Because I know, Kurt. I just need you to tell me why."

"Why what, Blaine?" Kurt busied himself with tidying, picking things up and then putting them down again in pretty much the same spot just so he didn't have to look into Blaine's eyes. Blaine crossed the room and took a hold of Kurt's arms.

"Why didn't you deposit my checks?"

Kurt bristled. He hadn't made a decision about the money. Keeping it felt dirty and wrong considering how things in their lives had changed, but he never thought Blaine would notice either way.

Kurt looked up at Blaine, his blue eyes pleading for him not to ask; not to make Kurt say what he was thinking out loud.

Because Kurt was thinking that accepting the money meant their relationship really didn't mean what he hoped it did. He didn't want to say that it made him feel cheap.

Dave walked in from the bathroom, soaking wet and holding a squirming child in his arms. This little girl had long, spindly legs, and hair that curled and stuck out in all directions. She swung her legs and fidgeted almost non-stop, babbling in a language that sounded partially like English, and partially like baby talk.

"Is there a problem here?" Dave asked, looking from Kurt, to Blaine, and then back to Kurt. Kurt looked at Dave's expression and furrowed his brow in confusion. Did Dave actually look happy to see Blaine?

"Actually, there is." Blaine turned to Dave. Blaine reached into his pocket and pulled out his checkbook. Kurt turned away and looked out the living room window, shoulders sagging, with a feeling that important decisions were being made without his consultation or approval. Blaine continued to speak as he wrote.

"It seems that Kurt has, um, misplaced some checks that I had written to him. So, I've come here to deliver a new one personally." Blaine looked up from his checkbook with a smile.

Blaine tore the check from the book and handed it to Dave. Dave took it a little skeptically.

"Dave," Blaine said, "I am trusting you to deposit this check."

Dave smiled back and nodded.

"Thanks, Blaine," he said. "You could have just sent it in the mail. You didn't have to drive two hours to deliver this."

"It's...um...not the only reason I came. But it is quite a bit of money." Blaine turned his smile to the little girl, who giggled bashfully and buried her head into Dave's shoulder. "I didn't want to risk it getting lost in the mail."

Dave looked at the check. His eyes went wide, and he almost dropped Eva. A confused smile crossed his lips.

"Kurt!?" Dave called past Blaine, walking over toys and a scooter to get to him. "This is nearly..."

"Yes, I know how much money it is..." Kurt said quietly.

Blaine's smile fell as he watched Kurt breathe in deeply, eyes trained toward the sky. Blaine looked back at Dave.

"Would it be alright if Kurt and I spoke outside?" Blaine asked.

"If it's alright with Kurt," Dave replied. Dave looked at Kurt as well, noticing how detached he seemed.

Kurt only nodded.

Blaine took Kurt's arm gingerly and led him outside.

Kurt was uncharacteristically timid, and it made Blaine's heart sink. This wasn't his Kurt. This wasn't his fierce and fiery black swan.

"Kurt?" Blaine took hold of Kurt's arms, but Kurt wouldn't look up at him. "Kurt, I know I'm failing you left and right. I'm doing everything I promised you I wouldn't. I'm invading your privacy, I'm not giving you space."

Kurt still wouldn't look up at Blaine.

"Kurt, I'm not trying to insult you." Blaine wanted Kurt in his arms so badly it hurt. It physically hurt not having Kurt against him, but Blaine needed to talk to him. "When we first started seeing each other, it was your job. You offer a...unique...service, and I hired you. You dedicated a lot of time to me, and you deserve to be compensated. It doesn't make it any less special..." Blaine kissed Kurt's forehead. He finally couldn't keep his distance, and wrapped Kurt in his embrace. Kurt stayed rigid and unyielding, but Blaine held him, rubbing circles into his back. "It doesn't mean I'm not still completely and totally in love with you..."

Kurt felt himself breaking a little, but he couldn't bring himself to uncoil and wrap himself around Blaine. He was humiliated by his circumstances, and deep inside he had prayed Blaine would never come to this house...never see him here.

"I'm sorry I came down here and invaded your privacy," Blaine repeated.

"Don't..." Kurt said, cursing himself for the tears creeping into his voice.

Blaine placed a delicate kiss into Kurt's hair. They stood together. Kurt finally unwrapped his arms and held Blaine, squeezing him tight and remembering what it felt like to be warm and happy and alive again. He wasn't really angry with Blaine. He was angry for being seen as a failure.

Blaine looked around at the metal house, panels rusting and weather worn, staircase with individual boards coming loose, and six people inside struggling to survive - not really living.

He got a sudden stroke of inspiration. How he could make things right. How he could keep Kurt with him forever.

"I want to make you an offer."

"Hmmm?" Kurt murmured in acknowledgment.

"I have a house," Blaine said, "in L.A. Not too far from mine, actually. It was one of the first things I bought when I became an actor. It's in a good neighborhood. It's just a little run down. I thought it was a good investment, but right now it's just sitting around doing nothing..."

Kurt looked at him.

"What are you saying, Blaine?"

"I want you...all of you...to move up to L.A."

"What?" Kurt stepped back quickly, stumbling a little.

"Think about it." Blaine tried to say his piece quickly before Kurt could say no. "This place, this town, every thing here is unhealthy for you. In L.A., the schools are better, the neighborhood is better, the house is way bigger..."

Kurt opened his mouth, and then closed it, not sure how to rebut, so Blaine continued.

"You can do whatever you want to it, decorate it, make it handicap accessible..." Blaine fought to catch Kurt's eyes. "Dave can follow his dream, go back to school and become a sports agent..." Blaine lifted Kurt's chin to look into his eyes, unshed tears collecting on his lashes. "...and so can you. Become a designer, a singer, whatever you want to be."

Kurt seemed to come to his senses then.

"I can't," Kurt said, shaking his head resolutely.

"Why not?" Blaine's face fell.

"Because, I can't let you do this for me. It's too much."

"But why?" Blaine asked. "I love you. That's never ever going to change. So, why is it too much?"

Kurt looked down at his hands, wrapped in Blaine's. He wanted to say yes. God, did he want to say yes. All of their problems would be solved, and he could be with the man he loved.

"I can't have my whole family rely on you."

Blaine lifted their joined hands to kiss Kurt's fingers.

"I love you. I want to take care of you. Let me take care of you, take care of your family," Blaine begged.

"I promise. I won't fail you again."

Kurt let out a long, tired breath.

"Why does it feel like you're buying me?"

"I'm not, Kurt," Blaine said, a stab of guilt surging through him at the words. "I'm not trying to buy you. I just want to make your life better."

Kurt looked down and nodded.

"Kurt," Blaine held Kurt again. "It would mean so much to me to do this for you. I promised you I would figure things out. This seems like a solution. It really does."

Kurt took a deep breath and looked into Blaine's eyes.

"Can I think about it?" Kurt asked. "I need to talk to Dave. But...I'm not saying no. I just need some time. Please."

Blaine smiled. It wasn't a no.

"Of course, my love. Whatever you need."

Kurt looked down at his shoes for a moment, and then back up at Blaine.

"I need to kiss you," Kurt said simply. Blaine smiled.

Blaine claimed Kurt's lips slowly, and bit by bit his heart started to beat normally again.