They spent the next several hours in the hotel restaurant ignoring the baleful glare of the waitress who had brought them seemingly a dozen free refills of cheap, weak coffee. The two had talked non-stop, although they never did quite get around to planning the rest of Blaine's gap year. Kurt discovered that Blaine's ex was the extreme adventure type that wanted to stay in lice-infested youth hostels, ski the Streif in the Alps, dive from sea cliffs, and camp on the Moors. It wasn't Blaine's cup of tea, which led to constant fights over Blaine's lack of adventure and unwillingness to get dirty. It wasn't Kurt's cup of tea either, and he shuddered just hearing about it. Kurt found it a little odd that a woman would be into so much edgework. It seemed especially odd that Blaine would date that kind of woman, but Kurt had never really dated a woman, so what did he know?

Blaine discovered that Kurt, like he, had also just graduated college in May. After staying in New York to finish an internship at Vogue.com, he was now driving to Seattle to begin a stint as the Assistant Artistic Director of Flying House Productions, the home of two large community choruses including the world's largest gay men's chorus. This was Kurt's first “real” job, and he was brimming with ideas.

Now the restaurant was closing and there was no other place to go, so they bundled up to face the night in the only shelter they had: a cold car. Blaine helped Kurt rearrange the luggage and fold the back seats down so that there was an empty space large enough for one person to sleep comfortably (if you didn't mind the cold and the very hard surface) and for two people to sleep cramped like sardines. Kurt laid out two blankets to serve as a mattress and to protect them a little more from the cold, then he began unrolling his sleeping bag.

It sounded easier than it was, moving around in the tiny spaces of the car.

“Unzip it,” Blaine instructed when he saw Kurt's sleeping bag.

“I'm going to be cold if I sleep in it unzipped,” Kurt objected.  Then he quirked up one side of his mouth, "Im going to be cold regardless."

“How do I say this?” Blaine began, “Your sleeping bag...oh, Hell…your sleeping bag is made for a girl's slumber party. You'll freeze to death. We'll put yours down on the blankets and zip mine on top, and we'll get in together. You'll be a lot warmer that way. We both will.”

Kurt wanted to object, but he was already chilled to the bone and shivering, so he let practicality rule. “Okay,” he nodded, unzipping the sleeping bag and laying it down.

Blaine unzipped his own compact, space aged sleeping bag and began zipping it to Kurt's. It was sort of like hitching a mule to a Ferrari, but expediency was the rule of the day.

Blaine began rummaging through his back pack as Kurt removed his boots. Then Blaine removed his coat and pulled his sweater off. Kurt glimpsed a beautifully muscled and slightly hairy chest before turning away, his cheeks flushing, “What are you doing?”

Blaine's voice sounded puzzled when he responded, “I'm putting on some sweats. You're not going to sleep in your clothes, are you? You'll be really uncomfortable. I have an extra hoodie if you need one.”

“No, I have sweats, too, it's just…” Kurt's voice trailed off.

“What?” Kurt slowly turned to face Blaine again, who was now completely dressed in thick sweatpants, socks, and a pullover hoodie. Blaine looked at him curiously.

Kurt couldn't believe they were going to have to have that conversation in a freezing car in the middle of a snowstorm. If Blaine was a homophobe, this was going to get really uncomfortable really quickly.

Kurt sucked in a breath and started quietly, “You must have noticed that I'm gay.”

“Well, I assumed.”

Oh. Wow, okay. So Blaine wasn't one of those guys who were totally oblivious to the fact that not everyone was heterosexual, and he clearly wasn't a homophobe or he wouldn't have agreed to share a sleeping bag. That was slightly better. Still he wasn't getting Kurt's unease.

“So, I know that guys—straight guys—get undressed in front of each other all the time, but it's not like that for gay guys. It's different. I mean, would you feel that comfortable undressing in front of an attractive woman that you hardly knew?”

“You think I'm attractive?”

“Relax! I'm not hitting on you.”

“I didn't say you were. I just…never mind. Kurt, I know what you're saying. I tell you what,” Blaine slid into the sleeping bag, “I'll pull the sleeping bag over my head, and I won't pop my head out until you get in here, okay?”

“Okay.” Kurt found some sweats in his bag and an extra pair of socks. He undressed quickly—God, it was cold—and redressed in record time. Then he slithered into the bag, finding it impossible not to do so without entering sideways and rubbing his entire back side against Blaine's right side. The warmth from Blaine's body felt good, and Kurt shivered.

“Cold?” Blaine asked.

“A little,” the chattering of Kurt's teeth belied his statement, “but I'm warming up.”

“Kurt?”

“Hmmm?”

“There's something you should probably know.”

“What?”

“I'm gay, too.”

Kurt half turned, but that put his shoulder blade on top of Blaine's chest, so he shifted back quickly. “So your girlfriend…?”

“Girlfriend? Oh, my ex? Sebastian? No, not a girl. Very much not a girl. I'm just always careful to use gender-neutral language around strangers. It's safer, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh.” Well, that made more sense. “Well, then…” Kurt realized he didn't know what to say. “Goodnight, Blaine,” he finished lamely.

“Goodnight, Kurt.”