Kurt burrows closer to Blaine, trying to remain a constant in a world of change. It feels like it’s been the longest day to him, too, but now that his father and Carole have decided to go out to breakfast together, with her accompanying him to the airport afterward, he has a question in his heart.

“Blaine?”

“Mmm hmm,” Blaine replies, sounding close to sleep.

“So your body. It returned to you because...”

He moves his body around so that he can look up at Blaine, not wanting to miss his facial expression. He is surprised to find it red and a little embarrassed.

“Well,” Blaine begins, voice shaken but body still crowded close to Kurt’s. “I guess my - ‘me’-ness? Essence? Soul? I don’t know...it decided that since you were here, I needed to be here? At least that’s what your dad made it sound like. I still have just as many questions as you do but...my body was somewhere - holding? In holding? How weird is that? It blows my mind - that the drops weren’t random at all, just near others like me - there are others like me, like us in Ghana, Kurt. How cool is that?”

Kurt’s still thinking about why Blaine’s here specifically, though the rest of it certainly is interesting. Terrifying, life-altering, and mind-blowing...but interesting.

“Yes, but, you’re here because...” Kurt trails off, feeling like hiding his face.

“I’m here because I love you, and apparently that’s enough to stop six years of jumping, to make my body need to be with my...soul since it was with you. You make me whole, I guess. Is that...is that too much pressure?”

Kurt can’t help it, he’s teary because yeah, it’s a lot but it’s good, too. So good, to be loved like this.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he answers with a smirk, and they drift off.

***

When Blaine wakes again it’s closer to four in the afternoon and the whole house is silent. He’s blinking awake when he realizes that Kurt’s not in the bed with him.

He sits up and glances around the room, the hair on the back of his neck rising. He wouldn’t leave me after all this, right his stupid, worried brain asks. He pushes the thought out of his mind, though, because Kurt’s pushing the door open and then closing it gently behind him, his pajama pants low on his hips and nothing hiding his glorious torso...his arms...

Blaine might have a problem.

“Carole’s sleeping now that she’s back and Finn’s still at Puck’s.” Kurt says, keeping his voice to a whisper.

Blaine nods and then gets out of bed, the need for the bathroom pressing.

“I’ll be right back.”

Blaine pads silently down the hall, taking time to glance at the pictures and take in all of Kurt’s life.

A life he’s now a part of.

He swallows thickly, tears threatening at the changes that have occurred in such short order. A week ago he was in Denmark. The departure is so swift, being in his own body, in love with an amazing, beautiful boy, and looking toward an actual future. A future that may include his mother.

Maybe.

If she wants it.

God, he hopes she wants it.

He gets to the bathroom and takes care of himself there, using the facilities and washing his face. He’s wiping his hands on the towels when he notices an unwrapped toothbrush at the edge of the counter.

He smiles to himself, realizing that Kurt is taking care of him, in both small, seemingly insignificant ways like a toothbrush, and grander, more life-altering ways. Like loving him despite all of his unknowns at the time.

He brushes his teeth, humming to himself and reveling in this simple act because they’re his teeth and it’s his body he’s commanding, and then goes back to Kurt’s room, smiling.

When he gets there he needs to stop a moment because, wow. Kurt’s laid out on the bed on his stomach, the covers still at the bottom of the bed, his back exposed to Blaine’s searching eyes.

”Shit,” he says, need rumbling through his chest.

Kurt cranes his neck to look at Blaine, his body arching slightly, stealing the breath from Blaine’s lungs.

“What?” Kurt asks, his face heart-achingly innocent.

He really doesn’t know, Blaine thinks, and that just makes Kurt hotter, his body more luminous because fuck.

Blaine doesn’t answer. Instead he turns and pushes the door closed, flicking the lock before turning back to face Kurt.

Kurt eyes the doorknob, his face etched with surprise. He lifts his gaze and Blaine sees the moment Kurt understands. The way his eyelids fall and his lips twist into a coy smile.

“Blaine Anderson,” he whispers, soft and sweet, “I do believe you are having inappropriate thoughts about my person.”

Blaine moves toward the bed, thumbs hooking into his pajama bottoms and pulling them off slowly, slowly, his cock half-hard and held down by the elastic.

Kurt bites his lip and his eyes betray him, darkening and tracing Blaine’s body. He watches Blaine move forward and then crooks his finger at him, knees sliding over the sheets until he’s at the edge of the bed. He meets Blaine there and bats his hands away, pulling at the pajama pants until they’re down Blaine’s legs and pooled around his ankles.

“You should step out of those so you don’t hurt yourself later,” Kurt teases, leaning down and swiping his tongue across the head of Blaine’s dick.

Blaine sighs softly and steps out of the pants.

“You want me to?” Kurt asks, words threaded with nerves.

Blaine looks down at him, lashes framing impossibly dark amber eyes. “Please.”

Kurt licks at him again, swiping his tongue fully over the head of his cock and then taking it into his mouth to suck softly at the tip.

Blaine watches as Kurt slowly works his way down his cock, hushed words of encouragement sliding over his tongue as Kurt grows surer, his mouth commanding; his hands guiding Blaine deftly through escalating levels of pleasure. He pulls off occasionally to work his hands over Blaine’s cock, his torso, raking them up and over his nipples, making Blaine cry out softly as not to wake Carole.

“T-Tease,” Blaine breathes, watching Kurt’s tongue snake its way down his length, Kurt’s eyes locked on him, smug smile hinting at his lips.

“You love it, don’t you Blaine?” Kurt asks, all nervousness gone. Blaine can’t quite pinpoint when Kurt started owning his sexuality but it’s there in spades, threatening to overtake him and make him come much too soon.

He pushes Kurt back, surprising even himself, and is on him in a moment, mouthing at his neck, letting his tongue run out and along Kurt’s clavicle, his pec, his left nipple.

“Blaine- Blaine,” his name like want and lust wrapped up in sex and he’s flipping Kurt over, biting at his spine and making him mewl against the sheets, leaking cock ruining another set. He lets his tongue work over Kurt as well, licking hard and quick at the base of Kurt’s spine like it’s the head of his cock and Kurt groans as Blaine pulls off his pants. When he’s naked Blaine stares as Kurt ruts at the bed and spreads his legs further.

He knows what Kurt wants and fuckshitgoddamn is it hot that Kurt’s not telling him, just showing him with his body.

He grabs roughly at the cheeks of Kurt’s ass, spreading Kurt open and bending down quickly to swipe at Kurt’s hole with his tongue.

“Fuck,” Kurt yells, then buries his mouth in the sheets, eyes wide and focused on the door.

Blaine watches the door, too, but after a minute passes and they hear nothing he brings his mouth back to Kurt’s ass, licking him intently, his tongue sweeping over Kurt again and again as his fingers curl into the sheets. Blaine hears him saying something softly, his voice muffled and needy. He stops.

“What are you you saying? C’mon,” he chides, pushing against Kurt’s hole with his fingertips.

“Please, Blaine, please don’t stop, oh my god, don’t stop,” Kurt begs, hips grinding into the mattress.

“You better let me hear you then,” Blaine replies, pausing long enough to reach below Kurt’s bed to bring out the trusted box and retrieve the lube.

He resumes eating Kurt’s ass, Kurt’s eyes on him, eyebrows drawn tightly together as he begins to chant again. Blaine realizes it’s a litany of yes’s and Blaines’s sewn together with tiny sounds of pleasure that make his blood burn as he stops to lube up the fingers of his right hand.

“Want to be inside you, Kurt,” he says, gauging his reaction.

“Just...your fingers? I’ve- I’ve never done that so...” Kurt trails off, worry clouding his features.

“Don’t worry, baby, I won’t go any further than you say,” Blaine soothes, circling his fingertips at Kurt’s hole and watching him writhe.

“I-I trust you,” Kurt says, his eyes closing as Blaine breaches him, lightly circling just inside his body to stretch, tease. “Fuck, yes...Blaine,” he whispers as Blaine opens him more, sliding his finger in further.

Blaine moves up the bed until he’s over Kurt, kissing and biting at the back of his neck. His fingers seek and push, opening Kurt up and making him whine as he arches back on Blaine’s finger.

Blaine licks at Kurt’s shoulder blades, biting down and listening to him come apart as he rocks against Blaine, forcing him deeper, repeating the action till he’s keening; sharp, small cries in the silence. Blaine adds another finger, stretching him open and angling his fingers so they're pushing down, pushing towards Kurt’s front, seeking.

He hears it when he pushes right, accidentally, and only once before Kurt’s turning, surging in to kiss and bite at Blaine’s lips. Blaine’s fingers slip out and he’s wiping them on the ruined sheets as he angles Kurt onto his left side and grabs the lube.

Kurt tilts his head back, looking into Blaine’s eyes, questioning.

“Trust me, okay?” Blaine whimpers as his hand strokes lube up and down his cock. He settles behind Kurt, bringing his own right leg over Kurt’s and slips his cock between Kurt’s taut cheeks. He rolls his hips, the head of his cock gliding easily against Kurt’s ass, his head catching on Kurt’s hole on each thrust.

“Fuckfuckfuck, yes,” Kurt’s groaning, biting at Blaine’s left arm as Blaine reaches around Kurt’s hip to grab at his cock and stroke.

It doesn’t last long, Kurt’s glorious body arching against him, sliding and teasing at his cock as his orgasm builds low in his hips and Kurt’s soft little ‘ah’s’ get higher and higher; Blaine’s strokes becoming more firm and rhythmic.

It’s Kurt who comes first, shaking and staining the sheets as his teeth sink into Blaine’s bicep, pushing him over the edge as well.

They lay there until it’s not comfortable, breathing coming slower and more focused. Blaine moves first, looking to the sheets again.

“So do you have a third set of sheets, or...?”

Kurt snorts, slowly sitting up as he assesses the situation. He looks over to Blaine, eyeing the mess on his stomach and then daring to reach around to touch his own body.

“Ugh. So I love sex. I especially love sex with you, but this part is going to take some getting used to...and not feeling awkward about it in front of you, too.” Kurt colors, reaching down to pull at the corners of the sheet and tug it up to wipe at himself.

“Don’t feel awkward, it’s just us.” Blaine says, not thinking about what he’s saying until...us.

Kurt looks up at him fondly, forgetting the sheets, the bed, his body and just looking.

“Yeah,” he agrees softly, eyes crinkling, “It’s us.”

***

Blaine looks at the house - there’s a Dunkin’ Donuts next to it and the front says it’s a hair salon. The autumn wind is biting at the windows, and he’s not quite sure where to park so he finally just pulls into the coffee place, cutting the engine and staring at the apartment building.

Kurt had driven him to the airport in the small hours of the morning, Blaine lugging his small carry-on through security and biting back fears of rejection and blank stares. He had opted to go alone, wanting to face whatever awaited him without the added layer of Kurt and all that he symbolizes. Wanting to see her as just himself first.

He hopes she’s at home.

He gets out of the rental car and locks the doors with the remote, the beep indicating that his small cache of personal belongings will be safe for the time being, and then crosses the parking lot to the driveway of the unassuming home. It’s Saturday, and the salon downstairs is busy, all the parking spots behind the building taken and Blaine mentally thanks himself for parking in the spots next door.

Behind the house Blaine finds a back door to the salon, as well as a stairway leading up to the apartment entrances. He takes these stairs and makes his way to the second floor, mindful of the low-hanging edge of the porch on his way up. There is a door at the top, and he pushes through it, passing by the first apartment, its music pumping out through the walls. He walks through another doorway and finds himself in front of a door - the door, he supposes, and takes a moment to look around the upstairs porch.

There is a small rocking chair here with a tiny table beside it. A glass half-full with water sits there, as well as a small basket with knitting in it. He smiles to himself, remembering all the sweaters his mother had made him as a child, joking about being an old lady before her time.

He remembers wanting to learn to knit like her.

His chest constricts then because what if. What if she doesn’t know who he is or what if she doesn’t want to see him again? What if she’s become someone he doesn’t understand or know, or what if...

He stomps out these thoughts, staring out at the dark reds and oranges of the Vermont trees as they make their fall finale, bright against the cloudy October morning.

He knocks.

From the window in the door he can see into the kitchen - a washer and dryer against the wall next to the door, a refrigerator and a stove...plenty of cupboards. He sees a cat run into the kitchen at the sound of the knock, and then movement in the small doorway that looks like it leads to a living room.

When she sees him through the door she stops by the stove and holds herself up, one hand clutched to her chest and her face falling, falling...

Blaine’s chest twists as she stands there, all his fears swirling to the forefront of his mind but then she’s moving, scrambling for the door lock and tugging the door open.

He’s about to speak, to say something, anything when she’s all around him, hugging him and holding him close, unmindful of the chill air, whispering “Blaine, my baby, oh my god, Blaine,” over and over, tears flowing down her cheeks and mixing with his own. In that moment he knows.

His mother has never forgotten him.