Nearly the entire first floor of Blaines brownstone was a beautifully appointed living room with a baby grand piano at one end and tasteful and comfortable looking furniture at the other.  The furnishings were masculine, but not oppressively so.  The walls showcased art that was modern but not over the top.

Blaine gestured toward a sofa, "Make yourself at home."  Then he seemed to consider for a moment and he added, "Hold on; Ill be right back."  

Kurt heard Blaine thunder up what sounded like two flights of stairs, and he walked across the living room to skim his fingers over the ivory keys of the piano.  The sheet music lying open on top of the instrument was hand written.  It appeared that Blaine spent his free time composing.  He noticed a music stand to one side and a violin case propped in the corner.  He didnt see a guitar, but he assumed there was one somewhere.  He remembered the guitar playing from at least one show choir competition.  

There was more thundering, then Blaine reappeared with a bundle of clothes.  He thrust them at Kurt who just stared but did not take them.  

"Whats this?"

The bundle appeared to be a pair of sweatpants and a soft t-shirt.  

"It turns out I didnt metaphorically throw all of my last boyfriends clothes onto the street.  He was close to your size, and I figure you might as well get comfy.  Theyre clean, I promise."

"Seriously, Blaine..."

Blaine pressed a finger to Kurts lips, effectively shushing him.  "Kurt, youve basically told me that you need a break from your own life, so while youre in my house--just for today--Im the boss of you.  Im going to get us some drinks, and youre going to change into comfy clothes.  Then were going to snuggle up together on the sofa and Im going to talk to you about Washington and politics until you beg me to stop or you run screaming from my house."

Blaine smiled warmly at Kurt, and Kurt couldnt help smiling back.  

"Okay," Kurt capitulated, "but I dont need to change.  Im comfortable enough."

Blaine moved his hand up and down to indicate Kurts pants, "Kurt, no one is comfortable in jeans that tight.  I promise well get you back into them before you lose that beautiful countertenor."  He thrust the bundle of clothes at Kurt again, and this time Kurt accepted them reluctantly.  

"Be right back," Blaine called as he was already spinning around and heading back up the stairs.  

Kurt opened a few doors and found a couple of closets before he finally happened upon a small washroom.  He slipped in and changed into the clothes of some man he had never met.  Kurt rarely dressed down, even in his own home, but he had to admit that it felt pretty good.  Folding his own clothes, he looked around and then decided to leave them on the back of the toilet tank.  

He stepped back into the living room just as Blaine descended the stairs carrying a bamboo tray.  On it were two steaming mugs of tea and a plate of oatmeal cookies.  Blaine placed the tray on the coffee table and said, "I hope you like Lady Grey."

"Its lovely, thank you." Kurt suddenly felt awkward, but Blaine walked over to him and put an arm around his shoulder.  He steered him over to the sofa.  

"Sit down," he commanded, and Kurt sat a bit stiffly.  Blaine handed him a mug and held out the plate of cookies until Kurt took one.  

Kurt took a bite and smiled, "These are really good."  

"Theyre my moms recipe, and, by that, I mean, my mom owns the recipe.  The housekeeper was the one who always made them."

Kurt chuckled and took a sip of tea.  It was kind of nice, sitting there on the sofa, drinking tea and eating cookies.  It was also nice to see Blaine again.  Kurt had such a crush on him when he was a teenager, but he honestly hadnt thought of Blaine in several years.  It was strange how people went in and out of your life.  There was an odd comfort in knowing that some who went out came back again.  

Blaine settled back into the sofa and reached for Kurts hand, entwining his fingers with the other mans.  

Kurt looked down at their joined hands and Blaine stroked over the back of Kurts knuckles with his thumb.  It felt both alien and comforting and not at all sexual.  Just nice.  Kurt looked at Blaine, "Is this the part where you tell me how a bill becomes a law?"

Blaine chuckled, "No.  This is the part where I tell you my many, many stories about politicians, their weird quirks, and the completely asinine things they get up to that are somehow kept out of the public eye. All off the record, of course, so I dont have to send the NSA to kill you."

"Oooh, gossip.  Do tell." 

"Okay, but first..." Blaine set his mug down.  Then he reached for Kurts, taking it from his hand and putting it on the coffee table, too.  He put his arm around Kurts shoulder and tugged until Kurt was leaning against Blaines chest, his head tucked into Blaines shoulder.  

It wasnt as awkward as Kurt thought it could be.  Although Kurt had several inches on Blaine, he was leggy, so when the two men sat down, they were nearly the same height.  Thus, Kurt fit snugly up against Blaine, and once he let himself relax little by little, Kurt realized that the warmth radiating from Blaines body felt wonderful.  It was as though Blaine was defrosting him from the inside out, and Kurt didnt even realize how desperately he needed this bit of human contact, so long denied, until his body began to drink it in. Kurt just absorbed Blaines presence--the warmth of his skin, the woodsy smell of his cologne, the rumble of his chest as he spoke--for a long time.  

Suddenly Kurt jolted slightly back to awareness.  He realized that Blaine had been talking all this time, and he hadnt been listening.  Then he decided with a sigh that he didnt really care.  He felt so good just being there, letting Blaines mellifluous voice float over him as he basked in the warmth of his embrace.  

This is what a wilted flower must feel like when you water it, Kurt thought idly.  

As Blaine continued to talk, funny antedotes and crazy stories filtering slowly into Kurts consciousness, Kurt began to unfurl bit by bit.  His shoes long forgotten, his legs crept up onto the sofa and stretched out.  His head slowly moved down Blaines chest until it was resting in Blaines lap, and Blaine was running a finger tip over the bones in Kurts face, smoothing out the lines and further contributing to Kurts feeling of repose.  Occassionally Blaine would run his fingers through Kurts hair or trace the edge of Kurts ear with his finger, but he never stopped talking.  It was as if he knew that Kurt needed the voice as a moor, anchoring him in place as his body recharged.  

At some point, Blaine stopped talking, and he tapped Kurts shoulder with his hand.  "Up you go," he said.  

Kurt was sad that this time was over, but he knew it couldnt last forever.  He stood and said, pointing woodenly at the restroom door, "Ill just change and get out of your hair."

Blaine chuckled ruefully and shook his head, "No, Kurt.  Youre not leaving.  Were going upstairs to my bedroom."

Kurts eyes grew wide.  "You--you--Im sorry if I gave you the wrong idea, but..."

Blaine cut him off, "No, Kurt.  Were going upstairs to nap.  No offense, youre a really handsome guy, but you look like you desperately need some sleep.  Otherwise..." he reached up and touched a finger to Kurts crows feet, "well have to buy you some ugly shoes to go with those bags under your eyes.  Whens the last time you really slept?"

"I dunno.  Probably not really since Adam died."

"Thats what I thought.  Come on," Blaine took Kurts hand and led him up the stairs, and Kurt followed, because, even though a small part of him thought this was probably a bad idea, he really wanted to.  

When they arrived in Blaines bedroom (classy and elegant, just like Blaine), Blaine pulled back the down comforter and said, "Get in."  

Kurt complied like a small child, laying on his side and closing his eyes as his head sunk into the pillow.  Blaines bed felt nice, and it smelled like Blaine, too. Blaine pulled the covers back up to Kurts chin.  

Kurt heard Blaine rummage around and then leave the room, and Kurt felt a pang of loneliness.  But, of course, Blaine would leave him to sleep.  What did he think?  Certainly Blaine wasnt going to pull up a chair and watch Kurt nap.  That would be creepy.      

A moment later, Blaine was back, though.  He, too, had changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt.  He slipped into the bed and pressed his chest into Kurts back, wrapping his arms around Kurts body.  

"Is this okay?" he asked.  "I thought you might sleep if someone was there."

"How do you know all this?" Kurt asked, turning slightly.  

"My dad died a few years ago.  My mom and I talk a lot.  She told me what it felt like to lose someone.  I couldnt give her this, obviously, but I can give it to you.  We all need human contact, Kurt.  I read once that if you dont touch babies, they die.  So just relax and let me hold you, and you see if you can finally get some of that rest you need.  Frankly, Ive had a crazy week on the Hill, and I could use a nap, too."

Kurt didnt say any more.  He just snuggled down under the covers and closer into Blaines arms.  A tiny part of his mind shouted that this was so different from being in bed with Adam, and a larger part of his mind told the tiny part to shut up.  Blaine wasnt, and could never be, a substitute for his husband.  What was going on here was different altogether, and Kurt needed to give himself permission to just go with it.  He needed to think only of himself, if just for today, and take what he needed to heal.  Slowly he relaxed, and as he drifted off to sleep, he felt Blaines lips press to the back of his neck.  Kurt smiled softly, and it was the last thing he remembered.