Blaine sits sifting through old yearbooks, reminiscing on days past, all the friends he made and cherished. He savors each photograph, tracing over some with his fingertips, as if he might be able to reach in and return to that moment in time. And in a way he does, because it all went by so quickly, in the blink of an eye, that the blink of an eye brings him right back to those moments. He sighs as he turns a few more pages. Then he stops…and he stares, the smile growing on his face a mixture of mirth and disbelief.

“Oh my God,” he mutters, laughing.

Kurt walks in with another box to go through.

“Why is it,” Kurt says, “that I feel like I'm doing all the work, and you're just in here daydreaming?”

Kurt looks over Blaine's shoulder and rolls his eyes.

“Worse,” he says. “You're looking at old pictures of yourself.”

“Not of me, love,” Blaine says, “us.”

Kurt puts the box on the floor with an undignified groan.

“What?” He drops down onto the bed beside Blaine.

Blaine passes the open book to Kurt and points to a picture on the page. Kurt lifts the book to his face, a small spark of recognition lighting in his eyes.

“Hey,” Kurt says, giggling, “I remember those blazers.”

“Really?' Blaine drawls, waiting for the moment of recognition to hit him.

“Yeah.” Kurt shakes his head and chuckles. “There was this group we sang against in high school. God, I remember thinking they were so stuck up…”

Blaine's smile falls instantly.

“Really?” he says again, a little tighter this time.

“Oh, God, yes,” Kurt says earnestly, looking into Blaine's eyes, not noticing the change in his mood. “They were an a cappella group. Did a lot of Katy Perry...” Kurt groans and rolls his eyes. Blaine's cheeks get hot. Kurt puts down the book and gestures emphatically with his hands. “Wait, wait, wait…” Kurt jumps on the bed in his excitement. “I remember they had this lead singer…” Kurt rolls his eyes to the ceiling, smiling fondly. “He looked so good in his uniform…”

“Really?” Blaine's smile returns.

“Yeah…he had the hottest ass…no offense…”

“None taken.” Blaine bites his lip as Kurt continues.

“And the way he moved…” Kurt moans, closing his eyes to recapture the memory. “But his hair…he used to wear it in this God awful gel helmet…kind of the way you did…on Sing…”

Kurt's eyes open, and a comical look of horror and recognition war on his face. Kurt looks at Blaine, still biting his lip. Kurt grabs for the book and looks closely at the picture on the page.

“Oh my God!” Kurt squeals, looking at the handsome boy in the uniform. “That's you!”

“Yup,” Blaine confirms. “My last year at Dalton.”

Blaine points to the photo again.

“Take a look at the boy to my left.”

Kurt had been so absorbed by the photo of the Dalton Academy Warblers and their spiffy uniforms that he didn't notice another boy standing to the far left where another group photo had been cropped; one lonely member having survived the cut. This boy stood almost back to back with Blaine. Had either one of them reached back they would have touched…turned around and they would have met.

Kurt's eyes go wide.

“That's me,” Kurt says in awe. “I'm standing right there next to you, and we never even met.” Blaine nods, sitting closer to Kurt so he can share his view of the photograph.

“I was so close to you,” Blaine whispers, looking at a younger version of the themselves, both looking forward to the future with not a clue what it would contain.

Kurt looks down at the space between them, barely an inch difference from where their hands rest on the bed.

He chuckles, looking up into Blaine's face and kissing the tip of his nose.

“Look at how close we are now.”