It didn’t fully hit Kurt until they were at the airport.

Waking up had been difficult and both he and Blaine had moved through the apartment like they were literally dragging their feet as they’d gotten ready. Blaine’s suitcase had been packed already, for the most part, but various articles of clothing scattered about the floor had been gathered and shoved inside unceremoniously, the thought of folding requiring too much effort for the amount of sleep he’d gotten. Kurt wasn’t much better, barely glancing around to make sure nothing had been missed, and they were out the door and down to hail a taxi before either of them even considered that coffee would have been a good idea.

Traffic was awful, as it always was, but for once Kurt didn’t care because Blaine’s head was resting against his shoulder and Kurt could tell that he was trying his hardest not to fall asleep with how his breathing would get so slow and deep and then he would jerk slightly and look up at Kurt with sleepy, blinking eyes. Kurt wasn’t faring much better, breathing in the lingering scent of Blaine’s shampoo and cologne and feeling himself slipping and wanting to just sleep for the rest of the ride, but he thought he shouldn’t spend their last time together being unconscious.

The taxi pulled up to the passenger drop off at the airport and Blaine let out a sigh. That was the moment that made Kurt feel like his stomach was twisting into knots.

“You don’t have to come in,” Blaine said quietly as he paid the driver, and Kurt gave him a look.

“Of course I do.”

They got out and Blaine pulled his suitcase from the trunk. It was small enough that he didn’t have to check it, and he’d downloaded his boarding pass onto his phone so he didn’t even have to go to the counter inside. He and Santana had flown enough that they’d streamlined the process to where they could get to security as quickly as possible instead of having to deal with anything else. That meant there wasn’t much time to be had once they were there, but Kurt wasn’t about to miss out on any of it.

Blaine held his hand tightly, fingers interlaced and his thumb rubbing against the back of it. As half-asleep as Kurt had been the entire ride there, he was suddenly feeling completely awake as they walked through the doors into the airport. It was crowded, and Kurt hated that he could barely hear himself think with all the commotion around them – babies screaming, parents scolding, people on their phones trying to talk loud enough to be heard over the din. He squeezed Blaine’s hand, wanting nothing more than to go right back out and grab a taxi back to his apartment, taking Blaine with him, of course.

Despite the mass of people swarming everywhere, they found Brittany and Santana fairly easily. They looked as tired as Kurt was sure he did, and for all of Brittany’s cheerfulness the night before, she looked completely miserable. Santana barely put in the effort to give Blaine a shrug, nodding her head in the direction of the security check, and Blaine nodded. Kurt’s grip on his hand tightened as they started for it, and in front of them Santana was sliding her arm around Brittany’s waist, hugging her in closer as they walked.

It was just temporary, that was what Kurt kept telling himself. It’s not like it was a lie, though he hated the nagging at the back of his head that said it might be more of a wish than a fact. Despite the fact that, to his eyes and ears at least, Blaine and Santana had done a good enough job all week to play anywhere in the city, let alone for a franchise where they already technically worked, there was the possibility that they wouldn’t get it. Auditions could go seemingly perfect and the person could still not get the spot. He tried his best not to think about his own NYADA audition, because it certainly wasn’t helping instill confidence in the situation.

“I need you to stop looking like that,” Blaine said, breaking Kurt out of his thoughts. He looked over, because Blaine was staring at him with his head tilted to the side.

“Looking like what?” he asked, thumb tracing circles against the back of Blaine’s hand.

“Like you don’t think you’ll ever see me again.” Blaine stopped short a few feet before the security queue, leaning up and pressing a kiss to Kurt’s lips. “I’m coming back, you know.”

“I know,” Kurt whispered, letting go of his hand to fit his arm around Blaine’s waist and holding him tight up against him, foreheads resting together. “Just don’t take too long, alright?”

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” Blaine replied, a light grin playing at the corners of his mouth. It wasn’t funny, but it was out of his control and they both knew it. Waiting games were never fun, but sometimes necessary. Kurt hated them. “Hey, guess what.”

“What?”

“I love you.” Blaine murmured the words so softly, his lips brushing against the corner of Kurt’s mouth as he spoke. That was enough to make something inside Kurt feel like it was breaking, because there was Blaine in his arms, Blaine whom he loved and wanted to sleep next to every night of his life, and Kurt had no idea when he was going to see him again once he got on that plane.

Kurt brought up his free hand to cup Blaine’s jaw as he kissed him, figuring if it was the last kiss they were going to have for a while, it should count. He couldn’t have cared less about the people milling around them, whether any were staring, what they were thinking, because all that mattered was Blaine and the way his tongue was stroking against Kurt’s,  his hands fisting into the back of Kurt’s shirt to keep him from pulling away. As if he would. Kurt felt like the only things keeping him from falling apart was the familiar, heady taste of Blaine, the warmth of his mouth and the way his body was pressed in so close.

Blaine pulled away first, and Kurt’s mouth chased his for one last quick kiss before he let him. It was Santana’s fault, Kurt realized, because her hand was pulling back from where it’d been tugging at Blaine’s sleeve. He wanted to glare at her, to tell her to leave them be for a few more minutes because of all people, she should understand, but she was looking up at him with genuine regret and he couldn’t. Blaine’s hands loosened their hold in his shirt, rubbing up his back to smooth the wrinkles he’d made. “I… we…”

“…have to go,” Kurt finished for him, biting the inside of his lip to try and fend off the ache he could feel building in his throat as he fought off the urge to cry. He wasn’t going to stand in an airport and cry, he wouldn’t allow it.

“I’ll text you when I land,” Blaine offered, bringing his hands up to cup Kurt’s face, looking at him so intently that all Kurt could think was that Blaine was trying to memorize him. It would make sense, because that was what he was doing to Blaine. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Kurt nodded into his hands, and Blaine finally moved the rest of the way away from him, reaching down for his suitcase again. “Blaine…”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I know,” Blaine replied, smiling up at him for a moment before leaning in and kissing him again, so quick that Kurt wasn’t even sure it had happened. “I love you, too.”

Kurt would have stayed there watching until Blaine was through security and out of sight, and probably longer because his feet felt stuck to the ground, if it weren’t for Brittany. She slipped her hand into his and gave it a little tug, drawing his attention away. Her fingers were tight around his, and she looked like she was on the verge of bursting into tears. It struck him that she’d probably never had someone there with her after the fact – always heading back to the city from the airport alone.

“Work?” he asked, not sure if she had a dance class that she was going to need to get to, but she shook her head.

With one last glance over to the security line, unable to see Blaine from where he’d disappeared into the crowd, Kurt gave her hand a squeeze and started back toward the exit. The look on her face was how he felt inside, teetering on the brink of breakdown and trying to keep from crying in public. He felt like he was being melodramatic, because it’s not as if Blaine was flying to another country, or going on some year-long excursion, he was just going back to Ohio, which wasn’t even that far away in the grand scheme of things. It was just that they’d had nearly a week of living in a fantasy world after finally getting what they wanted, and to have that end was hard.

Kurt got them a taxi, settling into the backseat with her and giving the driver his address. They’d barely pulled away from the curb when she started crying in earnest. Their driver glanced back in the rearview mirror, eyes wide, but Kurt ignored him and pulled Brittany over closer. She hugged onto him, face buried against his shoulder, and he did his best to try and calm her down.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she whimpered, pulling away so she could wipe the tears off her cheeks, sniffling. “I know it’s silly to get so worked up—”

“No it’s not,” Kurt cut in, brushing her hair back from her face and tucking it behind her ears. “It’s not silly.”

“I know she’ll be back, I just, I hate the goodbyes. I want her to stay forever.” Brittany rested her head on his shoulder and stared at her hands in her lap. “Goodbyes suck.”

Kurt couldn’t have agreed more, but then again, he and Blaine had never said goodbye once in the time they’d known each other, and he was never going to. It was such a simple word, said by so many people every day, but it had weight and finality to it that Kurt didn’t like. That was why he couldn’t say it, wouldn’t say it, because it was never really goodbye. It was always more like a ‘see you later’ or ‘talk to you soon’ because even though he might not know the when or how of those, it was never goodbye.

It was a quiet ride to his apartment after that, aside from the occasional sigh from Brittany, and she stayed pressed up against his side. Her arm slipped through his, hugging it into her chest as they sat, and when they were a few blocks away, Kurt got the driver to pull over to the curb.

“You said you don’t have work today?”

“No,” Brittany replied, shaking her head. “I’m never… well, I’m not much good on airport days, so they always cover my classes at the studio for me.”

“I think,” Kurt said, digging out his wallet to pay the driver, “that we should go to that bakery there and get way too many pastries and go to my apartment and watch movies all day.”

Brittany was looking at him like he’d just said he knew how to bring about world peace, but she also looked incredibly relieved. “…can we get a cake?”

“Absolutely.”

Their trip to the bakery didn’t take long, because it wasn’t like they were being terribly picky about what they wanted. There were plenty of cakes to choose from, and Kurt knew he would eat any of them, so he let Brittany pick. She got a chocolate one, covered in buttercream frosting and with bright balloons and confetti made of icing and sprinkles all over the top. It looked like a direct contrast to what either of them were feeling, but maybe that was why she’d been drawn to it. On any other day, it looked like such a spectacularly Brittany-like cake.

His apartment seemed so empty without Blaine and his things taking up space, and the sheets were still hung over the windows, keeping it dark and feeling like a cave. Brittany didn’t have any hesitation about going inside, making a beeline for the bed and setting to work propping the pillows up against the headboard, straightening out the blankets so they were smooth and untangled for them to sit on. By the time Kurt had gotten them forks and glasses of milk, and was bringing them into the room, she had settled in on Blaine’s side of the bed.

Blaine’s side. Kurt stopped when he saw her, looking so comfortable with her legs stretched out beneath the blankets, slouched down against the pillow. Brittany looked small, almost fragile, but so very wrong in that spot because she wasn’t right for it. She wasn’t going to wrap him up in her arms and hold him all through the night, keeping him warm and safe, because she wasn’t Blaine. No one was, because Blaine was headed back to Ohio and Kurt was going to sleep alone after spending a week getting addicted to sleeping with him.

“Kurt?” Brittany was looking up at him, a frown pulling down the corners of her mouth. “What’s wrong? Is this… oh, is this your side? I can move.”

“No, you’re fine,” Kurt said, moving to hand her one of the glasses of milk and forks before setting his own on his nightstand. “Do you want a plate or should we just go for it?”

“I think,” Brittany replied slowly, eying the cake where it was sitting in the middle of the bed, “there isn’t a reason to make more dishes to have to do later.”

Movies that would make them cry or more sad were immediately ruled out, and that was how they ended up marathoning Disney movies. The cake was completely annihilated, slowly but surely, and even the amount of sugar involved in all the icing wasn’t enough to keep them from crashing. In fact, it probably made it worse. The lack of sleep they’d both had the night before combined with the sugar rush and inevitable crash, and they were both doomed.

Kurt couldn’t remember the last thing he’d seen from the movie, but he knew it had been Peter Pan when he’d fallen asleep and it was Robin Hood when he woke up. Brittany was still sitting up, but her head was resting back against the wall and she was clearly out. He grabbed his phone to check the time, and he had a text, missed call, and voicemail from Blaine.

Getting out of bed as smoothly as possible, as to not wake Brittany, he gathered the tray from the cake and their forks, taking them into the kitchen before slipping out the door to the hallway to listen to his voicemail.

“I know I just texted you, but we’ve landed and are back at our place. You’re probably asleep – I hope you’re getting some sleep, anyway – or at work by now, but I missed you too much not to call. It’s so… weird being back here. I keep expecting to turn around and see you standing there, which is ridiculous because you’ve never even been to my apartment, but I guess I’m just so used to seeing you... and I want you there—here, I mean. God, I don’t think I’m making any sense, I’m tired and didn’t sleep on the plane and had one too many cups of coffee so I can’t focus—the point is, I miss you, Kurt.”

Blaine broke off in a tired chuckle, but it was one of those humorless ones that made Kurt’s heart hurt. “I miss you so much already and it hasn’t even been six hours. I love you and miss you and need you – God, I need you – and I hate waiting but that’s all I can do right now, and I’m already sick of it and I just started. This is getting whiny and I didn’t call to whine, I called to say I was here and unpacked and missing you, which I guess I did so mission complete and I can hang up and go take a nap.” There was a pause, long enough that Kurt thought the message was over, but then a quiet, “I love you.”

It was exactly what they’d been trying to avoid for months, the toll of distance and longing and everything that came with it. They hadn’t even had to deal with it for a full day and Kurt already felt like he was going to break. He hadn’t known it was possible to miss someone so much so fast, but it was because it was happening to him and it sounded like it was to Blaine, too. As much as he wanted to call Blaine back right then, he knew he couldn’t. As it was, he would be lucky to get through a dozen words before he started crying, and he really didn’t want to cry.

Brittany stirred when he went back inside, the sound of the latch on the door making her eyes open. Her gaze drifted sleepily from him, to the TV, and then back again. “I think,” she started, breaking off in a yawn and stretching her arms up over her head, “that we should make hot chocolate and watch Oliver & Company. It’s my cat’s favorite.”

“Not The Aristocats?” Kurt asked, smiling softly as she shook her head.

“No, even though he is an aristocat himself.”

Kurt made them hot chocolate as Brittany switched out the movies, and when they were both settled in bed again it was with her curled into his side, cupping her mug in both hands and smiling into it as she hummed along with the music. She wasn’t the right person, but she was a good one. Once their drinks and the threat of spilling them were gone, Brittany cuddled in close. As much as Kurt was craving touch, she seemed to need it even more, and the second time he drifted off to sleep it was with her tangled around him, humming quietly.