“So, where were we?” Kurt asks as he walks back into the room.

Mr Anderson is still sitting on the two-seater and this time Kurt carefully lowers himself down next to him.

“Things were wonderful and there were pancakes and touching fingers and then somebody remembered how stupid society really is.”

“Ah, yes. We were about to meet Blaine’s parents,” Kurt says smiling.

“Should I be worried?” Mr Anderson asks.

“Not yet.”

July 29th, 1941

“—and so she just stands there looking at me like she was the one who caught me squatting in her house!” Montgomery Anderson’s laughter joined in with those of the people around the table.

Kurt just smiled politely and tried very hard not to run his fingers over his hair. Again.

“It was certainly the strangest moment of my life,” Mr Anderson reached for his whiskey tumbler, draining in one long pull.

The Anderson’s had rented one of the finest and oldest townhouses in all of Lima. It was spacious and bright, with four floors of arched windows and wrought-iron fixings. At the moment, however, the Anderson’s and all of their guests sat in the park opposite the grand old house, under a large tent that had been erected in the shade. Kurt looked down the table, marvelling slightly at the fact that he was sitting at a lunch table with the mayor and several of Lima’s most prominent businessmen. Blaine sat opposite him, and Finn and Rachel sat to his left. Kurt was glad that he’d taken it upon himself to dress Finn for the occasion, because his bumbling older step-brother would probably have showed up in his shop uniform without a jacket in sight. Next to Blaine, Quinn Fabray was laughing quietly at something that Puck was saying, and Kurt was very glad to see that he, too, had managed to lose the grass stained jeans for the day.

“I think it’s time for main course, Maria,” Mrs Anderson said as the laughter from Mr Anderson’s story died down.

One of the servants standing just outside of the tent immediately jumped into action. She must have said something because suddenly twenty footboys appeared with platters, clearing the starter plates and placing the main course on the table, one platter in front of each guest.

As conversation around the table picked up, Kurt slowly breathed out, attempting to calm his nerves. He didn’t know exactly why he was so nervous, but he couldn’t help it.

“So, Quinn, do you have any plans for after the summer?” Mrs Anderson asked, from her position at one end of the table. Kurt had tried very hard not to stare at her when he’d been introduced. She was a strikingly beautiful woman, with high cheekbones and beautiful dark hair that had been elaborately arranged in a bun. She looked so much like Blaine with her olive skin and honey coloured eyes, but she sat with an impossibly straight back. Kurt had a feeling that her eyes, although startlingly similar to Blaine’s, but lacking his warmth, didn’t miss anything, especially not the way in which Quinn leaned closer to Puck as he spoke, or the loving way in which she brushed her fingers along his arm.

“I’ve applied to several colleges, Mrs Anderson. We’re just waiting to hear back from them,” Quinn replied.

“And you’re with this fine young gentleman at the moment, is that right? Mr Puckerman, was it?” Mrs Anderson asked, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“Please, ma’am, Noah is fine,” Puck replied. Kurt almost snorted into his chicken and vegetables at the sudden appearance of Puck’s manners. He looked very uncomfortable in his pressed white shirt and soft grey waistcoat.

“Very well, Noah.” Smiles. “What is it that you do?”

“I work down at the lumber yard,” Puck said, “Receiving and sending orders, stripping bark from the raw wood, those sorts of things.”

“Sounds charming.” More smiles.

“If you don’t mind my asking, young man, how much do you make at your job?” The question came from a tiny old man with a thick southern drawl.

“Oh, um, 40 cents an hour,” Puck replied. He didn’t seem uncomfortable with the amount until silence and raised eyebrows met his response. “I know it’s not much, but I don’t need a lot and I save most of it.” His tone got defensive and Kurt worried that he would say something he’d regret, but Quinn just touched his hand softly and smiled at him. After a moment he shrugged and smiled back.

“Have you two thought about what you’d do after the summer is over?” Mrs Anderson asked. “Quinn might leave the state for school.”

“We just like to take it one day at a time, Mrs Anderson,” Quinn replied softly. She tightened her hold on Puck’s hand.

“Well, you might end up in the same state as Blaine. He’ll be heading to Massachusetts,” Mrs Anderson preened. “He’s been accepted into Harvard.”

There was a clatter of cutlery hitting fine china.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Sorry,” Kurt apologised, picking up his fork. “I don’t know what happened, suddenly my fork had a mind of its own,” he laughed nervously.

Mrs Anderson only spared him the briefest of glances.

“Yes, we’re very proud of our Blaine, even if Massachusetts is so very far away.”

The conversation seemed to fade, as Kurt clenched and unclenched his hands around his cutlery.

Massachusetts is so very far away.

The phrase was stuck on a loop inside his head. Massachusetts. He shouldn’t really care. He and Blaine were just friends. They had only been friends for two weeks, for that matter. It was nothing. He couldn’t care. Caring too much opened a whole other can of worms that frightened Kurt.

But why hadn’t Blaine told him? They were friends and friends talked about this sort of thing, didn’t they? Maybe they weren’t as close as Kurt thought. Slowly he came back to his surroundings. He realised he was picking at his food and immediately put his fork down.

Finn was telling a story next to him. It was enthusiastic and apparently required Finn to swing his long arms around like a windmill. Kurt paid it just enough attention to realise that Finn was talking about a customer at his father’s shop. Something about getting engine grease all over an old lady.

Finally, he allowed himself to look at Blaine. Blaine was leaning forward in his chair, his own lunch abandoned. A frown creased his forehead as he met Kurt’s gaze.

What? Kurt wanted to ask. What are you looking at? Are you finally seeing this pathetic boy in front of you? Are you finally seeing that I care too much? Are you going to run from me now?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked instead. It was soft, barely more than a whisper. Kurt doubted that Blaine could actually hear him, with the rest of the table laughing again, but the younger boy replied anyway.

“I only just got the letter, Kurt. I was going to tell you,” he muttered. “I’m sorry that you had to find out from my mother.”

Kurt just shook his head. What did it matter who he found out from? It didn’t change the fact that he could feel his break just thinking about Blaine leaving.

The rest of lunch passed in a blur of deserts and coffee, terrible jokes and judging looks exchanged between Mr and Mrs Anderson. When, finally, the rest of the guests started to stand, Blaine hurried to Kurt’s side immediately.

“Kurt?” he asked hesitantly. His hand reached out, as if to touch Kurt’s arm, but he must have thought better of it, because the hand changed direction rather suddenly, dropping back down to Blaine’s side.

“Yes?” Kurt asked.

“I… When… It’s like…” Blaine faltered over his words, stopping and starting sentences. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s okay, Blaine,” Kurt said quietly. He suddenly didn’t really feel much like being around people. “Summer had to end eventually. And Harvard is an amazing opportunity.”

“I know, it’s just that we, we’re—“

“We what Blaine? We’re friends.”

“Yeah, we are…” Blaine examined his shoes, hands buried deep in his pockets. Kurt wanted nothing more than to hug him and promise that he’d never forget him. He wanted to feel the weight of Blaine against him, holding him close, telling him everything, every secret thought, every terrifying moment of truth. Instead, an idea came to him.

“Hey, do you want to go for a picnic on Sunday? I have to work on Saturday, but there’s this place that I’d love to show you…”

“Kurt, I’d like that a lot.”

“Great. Bring a blanket.” This was better. This was safe. This didn’t include Blaine running from him, screaming as he realised what Kurt felt for him.

~~~~~~

July 31st, 1941

 “Kurt, what are you doing?” Rachel asked, as she hopped up onto the kitchen counter.

“I thought the empty picnic basket gave it away.”

“That’s not what I mean,” she pressed.

Kurt carefully wrapped the sandwiches he’d just finished making. “Then what do you mean?”

“We’re friends, right?”

“Yes, Rachel. As much as it pains me to admit, we are friends.”

“Good friends even?”

“The best of friends.”

“Then we should stop pretending, Kurt.”

Kurt let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re right, Rachel,” he turned so that he was facing her. “Let us elope while we still have the chance. We don’t need our families’ blessings.”

“Ugh, you idiot,” Rachel rolled her eyes. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you.”

“What about exactly?”

Rachel was quiet. Kurt simply continued packing the picnic basket, rinsing strawberries that he wanted to take along. She was quiet for so long that Kurt thought she might have forgotten what she wanted to say. He was just about to tease her when,

“I know you know about my father and uncle, Kurt.”

The strawberries spilled into the sink.

“I don’t know… What do you mean?” he ground out, turning to her slowly.

“You’re not stupid, Kurt. You have eyes and you use them. You also have a brain that can connect the dots. But most importantly, you have a reason to be watchful for that sort of thing.”

“What are you saying, Rachel?”

“I’m saying you should be careful with Blaine.”

“What?” Panic. Panic. Lots of panic. His heart leapt up into his throat and he suddenly wished he was sitting. Sliding down onto the floor, he wrapped his arms around his head and knees, attempting to stem the flow of panic. Was he that obvious? Did other people know? Did his dad know? Oh, god, his dad. What would his dad say?

Rachel slipped off the counter and walked over to him, settling next to him on the floor and wrapping an arm around him.

“Kurt, calm down. It’s okay, Kurt. It’s okay,” she continued to repeat that over and over as the ringing in Kurt’s ears died down, his pulse returning to normal.

“How did you know?” Kurt whispered.

“Anybody who knows you as well as I do can see the way you look at him,” she said gently.

“And what about your dad and uncle?” he forced himself to ask.

“What about them?” Rachel asked slowly.

“How could they--? It’s not right, Rachel!”

“They love each other more completely than anybody else I have ever met.”

“And that makes it okay?”

“It doesn’t make it wrong.”

“It’s not natural, Rach.”

“What is more natural than loving another person, Kurt?” she asked, gently. “They know what society thinks; they know what the consequences are if the wrong people found out, but Kurt, for them, it’s worth it.”

This shocked Kurt. He couldn’t believe she was defending this. He thought she’d be appalled by their choice, but would be keeping their secret out of some sense of debt or loyalty. But it wasn’t loyalty that she was practicing at that moment. Rachel seemed completely fine with it.

“And what about me?” he asked eventually.

“What about you?”

“I’m like that. Like them. What do I do, Rach?” Kurt struggled to keep the terror he felt out of his voice.

“You be careful, Kurt.” He looked at her then, raising his head and seeing the intensity blazing in Rachel’s eyes. Did she really mean that? Was she honestly not going to condemn him for his difference?

“Oh, Rachel,” he cried, throwing his arms around his friend and hugging her close. “I can’t believe you’re okay with this. I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“Nothing is happening to you, Kurt. This is just how you are. You love differently to most men, but that doesn’t make you different.”

Kurt allowed himself to cry into her shoulder, babbling suddenly. “I don’t know how to be like this, Rach. I’m constantly aware of the fact that I’m different, not acceptable. I feel so alone because I can’t talk to anyone about it—well, couldn’t talk to anyone about this.”

He knew that his face must look terrifying, but he didn’t really care. It wasn’t like Blaine was due any moment.

Oh god, Blaine. Suddenly panic over himself seemed less significant, not when faced with Blaine and how he might react if he ever found out.

“And what do I do about Blaine?” he whispered. Kurt couldn’t imagine not seeing Blaine today, not when it might be their last time together before Blaine’s family left for the summer, but how would he possibly face the other boy when he—, he—god, I can’t even think it.

Rachel, who had been rubbing large circles over Kurt’s back, saw back slowly.

“Kurt, you shouldn’t risk it… Not with Blaine. I know you like him, but he’s an Anderson. His dad is a powerful man. He could crush you and think nothing of it.”

“So, you don’t… You don’t think that Blaine is—is like me?” Kurt hated the tremble in his voice and the small blossom of hope that had been growing in his chest for the past two weeks.

“I think that when he looks at you, it’s the same hope shining in his eyes that’s in yours.”

“What?”

“He doesn’t treat you like just a friend, Kurt. He truly cares about you.”

“But, you said—“

“I said that you shouldn’t do anything with Blaine and that his father would kill you if he found out, never mind what the law would do.”

A heavy silence fell between them, Kurt finally dabbing at his eyes with something other than Rachel’s blouse and Rachel slowly running her fingers up and down his arm.

“You know I love you, right?” she asked eventually. “And that I always will?”

“Right back at you, Rachel Berry.”

~~~~~~

 “Hold up,” Blaine said putting the basket down. “It’s really hot today.”

He quickly pulled his jacket off and slung it over his shoulder. Stooping to pick up the picnic basket, he turned back to Kurt.

“Is it much further?” he asked.

“No, we’re almost at the field,” Kurt replied. He hugged the blanket he was carrying closer to his chest and started walking again. Kurt tried very hard to stop thinking about what Rachel had said.

Soon, the woods cleared and the two boys found themselves on the edge of a field. It held golden wheat that swayed and rippled as the wind passed through it. A scarecrow was visible in the distance; on its shoulder was a giant black crow. It squawked warningly as the two boys stepped into the field. Kurt angled left and headed toward a low stone wall that ran right through the middle of the field. It was more of a collection of rocks than a wall, but it led all the way to a giant oak that sat partway into the field.

“That’s our destination,” Kurt said, pointing to the old tree. “Then we can just sit and enjoy the breeze.”

“Thank god, I’m sweating so much, I think my hair is going to escape,” Blaine joked.

“That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, Mr Anderson. Your hair makes you look thirty,” Kurt replied teasingly.

“Yes, it would! You’ve seen what it looks like when it’s free. It could trap the whole German air force,” Blaine said.

“You’re incorrigible,” Kurt smiled.

“One of my many fine qualities.”

Kurt laughed as Blaine patted down his waistcoat.

“So, what’s so special about this tree? You made it sound like it meant a lot to you,” Blaine asked.

“What isn’t special about this tree?” Kurt hummed for a moment, thinking. “My parents had their first date under this tree. Apparently my dad spilled soda pop all over the blanket. Later, he proposed to her here. He says that she said no at first, just to make him panic. Then, while I was growing up, she’d grab a book and a picnic basket and we’d come here and just while away the day, napping, reading, whatever. I still like to come here when I’m sad, or when I miss her.”

“Are you sad right now?”

“No. But I feel like I need to share this place with you and your incorrigible ways… Before you leave.”

“Thank you, Kurt.” Blaine’s voice was low, as they both looked towards the gigantic tree, ignoring the words that hung between them, unspoken.

Soon they were standing under the immense span of the oak trees’ branches. Kurt closed his eyes and sighed as the wind played around his face. “What a beautiful day,” he said, opening his eyes. He was trying very hard not to think about the fact that it was probably their last one together, and wondered if Blaine had had the same thought.

“Yes, it is,” Blaine said. He was looking straight at Kurt, his golden eyes drinking in the sight of the beautiful boy before him. Kurt blushed as he met Blaine’s gaze. His heart started beating loudly in his chest. He yearned to reach out and run his fingers over Blaine’s cheek, but he couldn’t. Shouldn’t.

He cleared his throat instead, tossing the blanket into the air by its corners to spread it out on the ground. He carefully bent to undo his shoe laces and slip off his shoes before crawling onto one side of the blanket.

Blaine beat him to though. He kicked off his shoes, unceremoniously dumping them in the grass and sprawling out on the blanket. He closed his eyes and wrapped one arm under his head. He sighed happily.

Kurt was perched on his end of the blanket, his legs gracefully folded beneath him. Biting gently on his lip, he allowed himself to stare a Blaine for a bit, savouring the chance to just look at his friend before—before. His dark eyelashes were fanned out across his olive cheeks. They were long and soft-looking. His face was dappled with sunlight as it filtered down between the leaves, small drops of light on Blaine’s cheeks, his forehead. He was so beautiful. Without his jacket on, his waistcoat hugged his sides slightly, highlighting his strong, firm sides, all the way down to his narrow waist. Kurt unconsciously licked his lips.

Tearing his eyes away, he swallowed the sadness that was building inside him.

“I am so hungry,” Blaine groaned, opening his eyes. “As tempting as it is to just fall asleep, even with a tree root digging into my back, I really need food.”

“Well, luckily we came prepared,” Kurt said, opening the picnic basket. “Let’s see, I have turkey sandwiches, a flask of lemonade that Rachel’s uncles made -and they make the best lemonade, I don’t know how- and some strawberries.” He unpacked each item as he listed them.

“That sounds good,” Blaine said, reaching for a sandwich. He ripped off the wax paper and bit into it. “Oh, lord,” he moaned around a mouthful of food.

“I’m going to take that as a good sign,” Kurt smiled, slowly peeling the green end off of a strawberry and popping it into his mouth. They sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying the weather, each other’s company and the food.

Taking the other half of his sandwich, Blaine propped himself up on his elbow. He looked around, slowly. They couldn’t see far from their chosen spot. The tree obscured a fair part of the view. The small stone wall lead down the slight hill and ended at the woods. Behind Kurt, the wheat field stretched out for at least a quarter mile. His eyes stopped at the scarecrow, with his unwelcome companion still perched on his shoulder.

“Do you think I could have been a bird?” he asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?” Kurt asked.

“Like, reincarnation. Do you think I could have been a bird in a previous life?” he said.

“I don’t know,” Kurt replied, slowly chewing on another strawberry. Reincarnation? It seemed like wishful thinking to him.

“I’d like to think so. Flying free across the sky, far from people and their expectations. It must have been nice.” Blaine tore his eyes away from the scarecrow. “What about you? What were you in a past life?”

Kurt sat quietly for a moment, licking the remains of the strawberry off of his fingers. He looked at Blaine lying there with his earnest eyes and his strange question. Who was he, Kurt, to think about such grand things? He loved that about Blaine, who had such strange thoughts, but never considered practical things like his own happiness. He thought about the conflicting things he felt regarding this boy. He thought about Rachel’s words when she said that the two of them looked at each other like no one else existed. He remembered her words of warning about her uncles. But he found that suddenly, he simply didn’t care. “If you’re a bird, I’m a bird.”

The smile that spread across Blaine’s face was big enough to rival the one from the night in the road, after they’d nearly been hit by a car. He laughed and grabbed Kurt’s hand, pulling him forward.

“I’d hope so,” he said, stopping when Kurt’s face was close enough to touch. Blaine placed his hand on Kurt’s shoulder, thumb gently tracing over his collar bone. Thrills shot through Kurt’s arm and left his hand as the pleasantly unfamiliar tingling returned. “I hope that wherever I am, whatever I am, you’d be there with me.”  Kurt couldn’t meet Blaine’s gaze. Instead he reached forward and adjusted Blaine’s bow tie. It was a hideous thing, navy and sprinkled with yellow stars, and it was crooked, probably from when Blaine tugged at it as they had climbed to the tree. He let his fingers drop, and suddenly they were resting on Blaine’s chest. It was warm and firm under his hands and it hitched suddenly as Blaine’s breath caught in his chest.

“Kurt,” he said softly. He looked at Kurt, eyes searching for something in Kurt’s eyes. He hand tightened on Kurt’s shoulder, pulling him forward slowly.

“I hope that’s my fate in life, Blaine Anderson,” Kurt whispered, fingers tightening on Blaine’s shirt. “That I am whatever you are, where ever you are.” He could have counted the plashes of gold in Blaine’s eyes, he was so close. He swallowed loudly around the lump in his throat, his breathing coming out hard and uneven. Blaine’s eyes jumped between Kurt’s lips and his eyes quickly. His hand tightened on Kurt’s shoulder as if confirming he was really there.

Blaine’s eyes were huge, anxiety and something else warring to be the predominant emotion. His breath came out in puffs on Kurt’s face. As the distance between them closed, the harsh judgement of society flashed through Kurt’s mind, the panic he himself had felt, Rachel’s uncles— and then, Blaine’s lips were on his and nothing else mattered.

They were soft and warm and unsure. A flood of sensations crashed down on Kurt and he exhaled sharply through his nose, expelling them as they continued to creep up on him. The kiss warmed him even though the day was sweltering and he could have bathed in the sheer amount of tingles that coursed through him. It was delicious. It was intoxicating. It was everything he’d imagined and then— Blaine moaned softly and pulled away. Kurt’s eyes fluttered open, knowing suddenly that he had crossed a line, read the signals wrong. Maybe Blaine only wanted them to be friends. Surely, surely, he would hate Kurt now; despise him for his presumption and be repulsed by him.

Instead, Blaine’s forehead bumped softly against Kurt, his nose pressed to Kurt’s. “I’ve wanted to do that since that first night at the fair,” he admitted softly.

“Wh-what?” Kurt asked. His heart was beating erratically against his ribcage.

“You were just standing there next to Rachel, the single most beautiful boy I’d ever seen. I couldn’t help myself; it was like I was being drawn to you.” Blaine smiled as a blush crept up his cheeks.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Kurt said with a smile at the cheesy line, but he leaned forward regardless of cheese and again pressed his lips to Blaine’s again.

It was just as unsure as the first one, but it was much more deliberate. Kurt leaned forward, exploring and pushing Blaine onto his back to spread himself across Blaine’s chest. Blaine’s hand travelled slowly from Kurt’s shoulder to his neck, tugging Kurt forward as their mouths slid perfectly against each other. His other arm wrapped around Kurt’s back and pulled him close, his palm flat against the graceful slope of Kurt. Everywhere that their bodies touched, little waves of tingles erupted.

Kurt wanted nothing more than to lay here with Blaine forever. Nothing in his life had ever felt more real, more perfect, than this moment. This moment, where he lay under his mother’s tree, kissing a boy.

I’m kissing a boy. Kurt thought with a smile.

… I’m kissing a boy.

Kurt leapt backwards, pushing himself away from Blaine. His heart was hammering uncomfortably in his chest.

“What?” Blaine asked, looking confused.

“What are we doing?” Kurt demanded. “What are we doing?”

“Um… we were kissing?” Blaine answered slowly. “Did you not want to?”

“We can’t go around kissing, Blaine. We’re guys.” Fear blossomed fiercely in Kurt’s chest. He didn’t know why it was striking so suddenly. It was like reality only just seemed to be catching up with him, even if he’d been painfully aware of the risks the entire time. Everything about him, about this situation suddenly got real.

“Kurt—,”

“Oh, my god, what if somebody saw us?” Kurt could feel the panic starting to build. He knew they were completely alone, but the fear of being caught coursed through his veins regardless.

“We can’t do this—that—we just can’t!” Kurt stood up, he had no intention of going anywhere, but suddenly sitting close to Blaine felt like he was begging to be accused of—of… He couldn’t even think it. Blaine sat quietly on the blanket, something drawing his eyebrows together.

“Kurt—,”

“What, Blaine? What? You know what people would do, would say, if they saw.”

“I don’t care, Kurt—,”

“You don’t care?” Kurt knew his voice was rising, but he couldn’t stop it. How could they be so stupid? They could be thrown in jail for this.

“No, Kurt. I don’t care what other people will do. I only care about you,” Blaine’s voice remained soft.

Kurt snorted. “That’s easy for you to say! I bet daddy would easily be able to bribe a judge and sweep something like this under the rug. My father can’t afford to have his son be- be- like this.”

“Excuse me?” Blaine said slowly, rising to his feet as well. “You don’t think my father would disinherit me faster than you could say Franklin D. Roosevelt? I’m risking everything just talking to you about this: my future, Harvard,--”

“Oh, yes, because you care so much about going to Harvard.” Suddenly Kurt’s tone was harsh. All of his fears about what they were doing, about what he was, what it meant came slamming forward, fuelled by his fear of never seeing Blaine again. Before he could stop it, every worry, every doubt came pouring out of his mouth. “You have everything Blaine. You are wonderful and amazing and your family is rich beyond belief. And yet you come here, to my town, intruding on my life and my friends, with your naivety. You have anything, be anything, but you don’t even see how stuck you are, shackled by your family. What is it that you want, Blaine? What do you want?”

Blaine simply looked at Kurt for a moment, sadness evident on his face. “You.”

Kurt couldn’t help it, he laughed. “Me? What about me, Blaine? How do I fit in with your perfect little existence?”

“My life is not perfect, and you know it.”

“Oh, yes, I forgot. Your daddy doesn’t have time for you. There is so much more, Blaine!”

“How dare you? My life may not be nearly as bad as other people’s, but you can’t compare pain, Kurt. Life doesn’t work that way. Everybody hurts the same, even if some are stuck in a small town or others are on a path they didn’t choose. This is just what we are, Kurt! So don’t you dare try to tell me your pain is worse than mine. At least I’m being honest about what I want, now.”

Kurt wrapped his arms around himself. He knew that he’d been harsh with Blaine, but he was scared. How could he love a boy? What would even come from that?

“We can’t do this, Blaine,” he whispered.

“Then why did you invite me here, Kurt?” Blaine’s question was simple, his tone honest. There was just the smallest hint of a tremble in his voice.

Maybe it was that tremble. The fear and desperation that was mirrored on Blaine’s face and his. Maybe that is what made him answer honestly, despite his growing fear. “Because I love you.”

“What?”

“I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.”

And then he was reaching for Blaine. Blaine pulled Kurt closer, their arms winding around each other, their hands touching as much of the other as they could. Blaine grabbed Kurt’s face and kissed him again. This kiss was blazing, ripping through Kurt. Kurt felt like it held every moment of the past two weeks, every moment when he had longed to touch Blaine. The kiss was an act of defiance, a moment where they claimed the love they shared as their own, the rest of the world be damn.

Kurt clung onto Blaine, pulling him flush against his body, as Blaine’s hands wound into Kurt’s hair. Kurt felt Blaine’s tongue on his lips, and then he was opening his mouth, accepting Blaine in. He had seen people kiss before, but never had he known the absolute fire that came from kissing another so desperately.

When they broke apart, their breathing heavy, lips shining, Kurt and Blaine simply looked at each other.

“I love you, too.” Blaine whispered.

Kurt ran his fingers up Blaine’s arm, and back down, delaying the question on his lips. It came anyway.

“So, what do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Blaine said.

“We can’t be together, Blaine.” Kurt felt like his heart was going to break, but there was no other way.

“Why not?”

“How could this ever work?”

“You could come with me.”

“To New York? What would I do in New York?”

There was a hearts beat of a pause before, “Be with me.” Blaine’s eyes were blazing and Kurt couldn’t look away. He wanted nothing more than to say yes, to go with this boy. New York, he thought, what I wouldn’t give to leave Lima behind for New York.

“It doesn’t work like that, Blaine,” Kurt said, his throat tightened and he could feel tears gathering in his eyes.

“It should,” Blaine cried, his own face becoming wet. Kurt hated this, he hated that the world was breaking Blaine. Blaine who was happy, earnest, but right in that moment, Kurt could see something breaking in the other boy.

They spent the rest of that day lying in each other’s arms. Both boys knew that it was the end. There was no point fighting it, because they didn’t know what they would be fighting for. There was no scenario in which they could be together, not even if Blaine stayed in Lima or Kurt followed him to New York. It simply wasn’t possible.

So they said goodbye. With soft kisses and touching palms, they said goodbye, lingering in that bitter sorrow until the moon and the stars moved above them. And when they parted ways, each boy felt like they were walking away from the one thing that could have made them complete.