"But Hawaii, Blaine! The islands and–"

"Sun?" Blaine offered. He shook his head and laughed as Burt set mugs of eggnog down in front of them. Finn nabbed his immediately and started taking enormous gulps. "Kurt, you hate the sun almost as much as you hate your cute freckles."

Kurt glowered at him and shoved the Hawaii brochure aside. "They are not cute," he said stiffly. "Fine, but we arent taking our honeymoon at Bryan Ferrys birthplace either. Or Freddie Mercurys or Adam Levines. I dont care how gorgeous that man is, we are not spending a week in Los Angeles being hounded by your brother."

Burt dropped down into his armchair and watched them. It was Christmas Day, post-dinner, and Kurt and Blaine had spent most of their visit debating honeymoon options for their June wedding.

"What about the Bahamas?" Kurt said tentatively. He tugged the pamphlet from the pile and waved it at Blaine.

"You really want a beach, dont you?" Blaine said instead of giving an answer. "We could go to Vancouver and ski?"

"I cannot even stand in skis," Kurt snapped. "Absolutely not."

Finn set his finished mug down and looked at them. "Since when cant you two agree on something? Havent you picked everything else for the wedding? Even, like, the napkins?"

Kurt nodded, but kept his stare on Blaine. "Hawaii."

"Skiing!"

"Hawaii!"

"Why dont you just skip the honeymoon?" Finn wondered.

"Skip the– and miss out on–"

Carole shushed Finn and told him to go take the empty mugs and cookie tray into the kitchen. She shook her head as Burt turned on football and the boys huffed and crossed their arms.

"What about Europe? Or London?" Carole suggested as she looked through the pile. "You dont have any spots in Europe here."

"Thats a long way for just a week," Kurt said uncertainly.

"Why dont you just do that backpacking across Europe thing?" Finn said as he came back in. "Thats a college guys thing, right?"

Burt grunted. "Dont be ridiculous, Finn. Theyll pick a place."

But Kurt and Blaine were staring at each other thoughtfully.

"Theres nice beaches along the Mediterranean," Blaine offered.

"And the Swiss Alps for skiing," Kurt agreed. "And with an entire summer, we might as well see the rest of the continent. I can brush up on my French."

"Im sure my parents will flake and shove a few thousand our way for missing the wedding," Blaine added even as the rest of the rooms occupants shifted uncomfortably. "Well need good baggage and translation dictionaries and–"

"A full summer honeymoon in Europe," Burt said as he looked away from the television. "I knew you two would come up with something extravagant."

They booked flights the day Blaines parents check cashed. It was more than theyd expected, but they put one thousand of it into a savings account, and the rest would be used towards their summer. All spring they planned, mapped out, and scheduled their road trip down to the hour. Blaine had pushed for a minute by minute itinerary, but Kurt had stopped him. Theyd be lucky if their hourly plans worked out once they reached each destination.

On the third of June, after the reception, Burt and Carole dropped them off at the gate with tears and kisses goodbye.

"Be safe, call when youre there. Did you pack the outlet converters? You wont be able to charge your phones if you dont have them," Carole rambled, hugging Blaine then Kurt then Blaine again.

"Theyve got them," Burt said. He pulled Blaine into a hug of his own. "Stay sharp over there, kiddo. Enjoy it, but be careful. Take care of each other."

"We will," Blaine said as he passed Burt to Kurt.

There was another round of hugs, and then they were on the late night flight to Milan, Italy.

"So, husband," Blaine said after theyd taken off and the seatbelt sign flickered out, "have any interest in joining the mile-high club?"

Kurt giggled as Blaine pressed a kiss to the curve of his neck and nuzzled the spot. Their flight was small, their row of three just the two of them, and only one old woman in sight. She had already draped a blanket over herself and kicked back. "We havent even been in the air for ten minutes," Kurt said as Blaine continued to kiss his neck. "But, I mean, its still early our time, and a nice blowjob should make it easy to sleep for the rest of the flight."

Blaine smiled against his skin, and stood up. "Ill be waiting."

Kurt sat impatiently for a few minutes, then followed his husband down the aisle.

"Yes, Dad, were fine. Were at the hostel now."

Blaine listened to Kurt on the phone with Burt as he carried the last of their luggage into their room. It was cozy with one double bed and a view of the city, enough for two nights. The attendant at the desk had given them strange looks when theyd corrected her, but when shed spotted their shiny new wedding bands shed congratulated them.

"Im so tired," Kurt yawned and tossed his phone onto the desk.

"Well, we did spend a long time in that airplane bathroom."

"Mmm, we did," Kurt agreed. He tangled his arms around Blaines neck and hugged him close. "Wanna nap and then find one of those restaurants on the list?"

"Honestly, I wanna spend the rest of the day in bed with you," Blaine said as Kurt worked his shirt loose. "Thats not a bad way to spend our first night in Italy, right?"

"Strip naked and Ill let you know."

It was late when they woke up. The window looking towards the Swiss Alps was dim and the lights of streets below were already on.

"We should eat something," Kurt murmured against Blaines lips. He shifted his weight on top of Blaine and dove back down for another deep kiss. "Mmm, lets just feast on each other."

But both of their stomachs rumbled and finally, Blaine crawled out from under his husband and stretched. Kurt scampered after him, and together they stood naked at the floor-to-ceiling length window overlooking the city.

"Im sure we can find some place open still," Blaine said as Kurts arms settled around his waist and his thumbs rubbed gently over his hipbones. "I wish we hadnt fucked our way through the sunset. I bet it was beautiful."

"Therell be one tomorrow," Kurt reminded him. He kissed the sensitive spot behind Blaines earlobe and held him tighter when he shivered. "We can watch it just like this and fuck against this window. If you want, I mean, I know how you get when you think people are watching."

"Kurt," Blaine warned as Kurts lips sucked at the same spot until he was dizzy. "We– cant we get dinner before you drag me back to bed?"

"I have a box of cookies and water in one of my bags for a reason. And Sam gave us a few bags of Cool Ranch Doritos."

"I knew he was the right choice for best man."

They spent the better part of their first twenty-four hours in Milan tangled up in sheets, pillows, and each other. The second day, while filled with a cafe ("Dont ever, ever tell Third Rail that I found somewhere better"), a day spa, and a lot of sights around the city, had ended much the same as the first. By sunset, they were both facing the window, skin to skin, as Kurt lined himself up and slid into Blaines body.

Blaine groaned as Kurt pressed him more firmly against the window and the deep reds of the sunset gleamed over the Swiss Alps. "Fuck, I always forget how good you feel."

"Thats what happens when you top all day yesterday," Kurt murmured. He kissed Blaines shoulder and breathed deeply as Blaine clenched around him. "Its beautiful."

"Youre beautiful."

"You dont have to butter me up anymore," Kurt said with a teasing smile as Blaine looked over his shoulder to him. "Im married to you now, youve got me forever."

"I want to remember us like this forever."

In the morning, they left Milan for Venice and got lost along the way. Neither of them were any good with Italian road signs, but after a ten kilometer detour, Kurt got them back on track. They were looped through circles when they crossed to the island and rumbled their little rental car to a lot to park. Kurt handled the translating, and figured out how to get to the hotel Burt and Carole had booked for them for a few days.

"Oh, wow, there is it! The Hotel Rialto!"

Blaine leaned out of the water taxi next to his husband and stared up at the hotel right off the Grand Canal. "That must have cost a fortune."

"Well it is their wedding gift to us," Kurt said as he snapped a picture with his phone and sent it to his dad. "Oh, I cant wait to get inside. And then we can find a cute little place to eat and we have to take a romantic gondola ride. Ill never forgive you if we dont."

"Deal."

They settled into their room, then asked the receptionist for nice, local restaurants. She directed them to a spot on the other side of the beautiful bridge outside of their hotel. After dinner, where Kurt relinquished his title of Magnificent Pasta Maker, they found a gondola to ride in.

"Here?" Blaine said uncertainly as he handed the unfamiliar currency over. "I think thats right."

The man handed part of it back and laughed. "Too much. More than too much. Sit, sit."

Blaine hopped in and offered his hand to Kurt to help him down.

"Oh, Im not a boat man," Kurt babbled as they settled down in the seat and pushed away from the street. "Oh, why did I let you talk me into this. I might be sick."

"This was your idea, husband," Blaine laughed. He put one of his arms around Kurt and held him close. "Just relax and kiss me."

And Kurt did. He leaned back against Blaines chest as the city began to light up around them, and kissed his husband.

From Venice, they headed down the east coast to Bari and tried more food than theyd had since theyd landed. They debated heading to the heel of the country, and finally, after Kurt begged, skipped it and headed towards Sicily. Theyd talked about taking a detour towards the island for a few days, but hadnt been familiar enough with the area to know how possible it might be.

It rained the entire drive from Bari to Villa San Giovanni, a port town where there was supposed to be a ferry to Sicily.

"It looks like its closed," Blaine said with a frown as they drove up to the gates. Rain splattered on the windshield and beat down the roof of the little car. "Probably the rain."

"But–" Kurt frowned at the empty parking lot and the locked gates. "We have a few extra days. Do you want to wait for tomorrow and see if its open?"

They spent the night at a little hotel twenty minutes away and in the morning returned to the ferry. Again, it was locked. The rain had stopped and the morning sun was shining on the sea. Sicily was just visible across the deep blue water, mountainous and incredible even at a distance. A sign posted in Italian (after twenty minutes of translating) told them the ferry had been closed for maintenance.

"We could hire a boat," Kurt said uncertainly. He glanced along the coast and docks where people and fishermen were milling about.

"Or skip it for now," Blaine said. "I dont think we could afford that."

Kurt frowned, but nodded sadly as Blaine took his hand.

"Im sorry, honey."

"Some other trip," Kurt said. "Come on. Rome awaits the Hummel-Andersons."

To make up for missing Sicily, they stopped in Naples as they headed up the west coast and took a detour to Mount Vesuvius. A night in Naples where they uploaded and started folders for their honeymoon were added to Facebook. They headed to Rome for all of the sights and spent two days there, before heading to Pisa, for one specific sight: the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

"Get a picture of me holding it up," Kurt said as Blaine squatted down and tried to get the right angle.

"To the left–no, back a step–"

He snapped the picture and laughed when he looked at it. "All the people in the background look ridiculous."

Kurt bounced over and laughed when he saw them. "Your turn to pose!"

They each took a handful, holding the tower up at different angles, leaning against it, and Blaine suddenly grinned.

"Hands and knees," he called as Kurt gave his squeaky laugh and shifted from his horrified pose under the tower.

"Blaine, thats for the hotels, not out here."

"No, I mean– excuse me?" he called to a couple close by and got them to take a picture. "Cheek on the grass and pretend youre screaming–"

"Blaine, what–"

Blaine hurried over and raised his hands above Kurts butt. The couple took pictures of them switched and when Kurt was handed his phone back he understood and couldnt stop laughing.

"I cant believe I married such an idiot," he said as he flipped through the two pictures. In the first, he was lined up with the tower and Blaine was over him, looking insane as he shoved the tower down at his butt. The second was just as silly because Kurts face was simply bemused and bright with laughter instead of rage.

"You love your idiot," Blaine said. He wrapped his arms around Kurts waist and tucked his chin over his shoulder to look at the pictures, too.

"Those were some interesting pictures at the tower," Burt said as he and Carole sat down for breakfast.

Kurt laughed brightly as the wind whizzed through the phone. "That was my husbands idea."

"Your favorite husbands idea!" Blaines voice called.

Burt chuckled and put the phone on speaker for Carole to hear. "So where to now? Youre still in Italy, right?"

"For another... twenty minutes?"

"Maybe less," Blaine said in the background. "Viva la France!"

"You two must have gotten up early," Carole said as she started cutting her pancakes. "How was Rome?"

"We never went to bed, actually, but Rome was beautiful," Kurt gushed. "The entire country is just amazing. Im going to miss it, but– oh, were crossing into France! Gotta go! We love you!"

Burt shook his head as the call ended. "Crazy kids. I miss them."

"Nine more weeks."

"Two and a half months is way too long without them."

"Umm, are you... sure this is the right beach?"

Blaine looked down the coast line and tried not to stare. Everyone in sight was naked, and for the first time in his life, he thought he might understand the appeal of a womans chest.

"Its... well, we are in Europe, and this is better than those rock beaches in Nice," Kurt said. His eyes followed the same woman as she jogged to catch her hat that was blowing away. "Having breasts must really hurt."

"Not as much as that mans dick must be aching," Blaine muttered as a man came running out of the water. "Wed never walk again if either of us looked like that."

"Lets go find somewhere else." But Blaine didnt move as Kurt turned to go. "Blaine?"

"I do love seeing you naked," Blaine said offhandedly as he tugged at the waistband of his swim shorts. "And I know youre rather a fan of my nudity."

"This is completely–put your shorts back on!"

"Ill put mine on, if you take yours off!"

Blaine started down the beach towards the water, laughing and waving his shorts at Kurt.

"Blaine Devon!"

"Strip for me, my sexy husband!"

"I– ugh!"

Kurt glared at his husband as he set up their towels and umbrella. With a huff, and another encouraging catcall from Blaine, Kurt shimmied out of his own shorts and placed a hand on his hip. "Am I ready for an afternoon with my husband now?"

"Come closer and let me... assess your assets."

Kurt shook his head and strutted down towards the water.

By the third week, after hopping from Marseille to Barcelona then Madrid and a few nights in Lisbon, Portugal, Kurt and Blaine were blurry-eyed from travelling.

"Why is Paris fifteen hours away?" Kurt yawned and stretched as they put the last bag in the car and climbed in. "Im tired of driving."

"We can spend three or four days there," Blaine reminded him as he flopped down in the passenger seat. "My lower backs sore."

"My ass is sore," Kurt challenged as he eased himself into the drivers seat. "Thanks to someone wanting to make love to me all night."

"Dont start talking about it or well never leave Portugal."

"I expect an entire day at our hotel in Paris where I get to have my way with you," Kurt said. He adjusted the pillow under his butt and sighed.

"I am perfectly happy to give you that."

By the time they hit the border back into France, Blaine forced Kurt to pull over and change drivers. Kurt was wincing and shifting and in obvious pain from sitting on his sore butt. Blaine rearranged some of their luggage and leaned Kurts seat back, then took over the rest of the drive into the night. When they reached the outskirts of Paris, and the bright umbrella of light that blocked out the stars, Blaine shook Kurt awake.

"Kurt, hey, were here."

"Mmm, sleepin."

"I know you are," Blaine laughed, "but you only get to drive into Paris once."

Kurt peaked over the dashboard and stared at all the light they were approaching. "Pretty," he mumbled before sinking backwards and going back to sleep.

Blaine pulled up to the hotel his brother had named, and was ushered out by a sharply dressed man.

"Um, bonjour," he greeted, feeling lost without Kurts fluent French to guide him. The man directed him inside as another unloaded their bags on a trolley and pushed them through a side door. At the desk, an older woman was flicking through a notebook. "Bonjour," he said, feeling ridiculous with his accent. "Um, uh, parlez-vous anglais?"

"Oui, yes," the woman replied. "Checking in?"

"Yeah, sorry, my husbands fluent but I just– I can speak Spanish and German but– the room should be under Blaine Hummel-Anderson."

"Heres the key, and check out is–"

"Dont I have to pay?"

"Its already covered," she said, looking at her computer screen. "Theres a note from a Mr. Cooper Anderson reminding you to stay naked."

"Oh my– I am so sorry."

Blaine returned to the car with a red face and found their baggage gone and Kurt still snoozing in the passenger seat. Another sharply dressed man was clearly waiting to move the car.

"Kurt?"

"Mmm, sleepin."

"Babe, we–"

"Sleepin."

Ten minutes later, Blaine staggered into the elevator with Kurts body cradled in his arms. He leaned back against the wall and tried to figure out how he was going to hit the right button when an elderly couple stepped in.

"Um, could you– uh, sil vous plait, uh–" Blaine nodded at the buttons. "Quatre?"

"You want the fourth floor?" the woman said with a smile.

Blaine sighed in relief and nodded as he adjusted Kurt in his arms. When had his husband gotten so heavy?

"Newlyweds?" the man asked as the door shut. At Blaines nod, he added, "Were here on our thirtieth anniversary. Came here for our honeymoon."

"T-thats amazing," Blaine tried to gasp out, but Kurt shifted and wrapped his arms around his neck.

"Oh, you two are so cute. We should show them around, Hank. We can take them to that bridge with the love locks and–"

"S- sure," Blaine agreed as the doors opened at their floor. "Thatll be– were in 414." And he stumbled out and down the hall, finally dumping Kurt on the bed and glaring down at his sleeping face. "Youre wide awake, arent you?"

"I like it when you carry me."

They spent their first day in Paris with Hank and Sophie, letting them drag them around to all the sights and to restaurants theyd come to love over their many years of visiting the city. Like themselves, they were from the United States, but further west in Iowa.

"So this is the Love Lock Bridge," Sophie said as they approached the strangest looking bridge Kurt and Blaine had ever seen. "Gosh, its so much fuller than last time. Were going to find ours!"

They watched the older couple wander off, arm in arm, and Blaine pulled the heart-shaped lock theyd found at a boutique out of his pocket. "We just find a spot to lock it on, right?"

"Looks like it. Ill write your name, if you write mine."

They did, then wrote their hyphenated last name, and found a spot waist high three-fourths of the way down. "There," Blaine said as he locked it. "This way, in a decade when we come back with our kids, itll be eye level for them."

"Unless they get my height, then itll be knee high."

"Shut up and throw the key, Kurt."

It landed with a splash down in the river and disappeared. "Now nothing can undo our love."

"Nothing ever could."

They said goodbye to Hank and Sophie the morning they left Paris. From there they spent a day in Brussels, then moved on to Amsterdam at Blaines request.

"All this place is known for is drugs and booze," Kurt said when they drove into the city. "Honestly, we could be in Germany right now."

After settling into their hostel, they found a place on the water for dinner, then returned to their hostel. Kurt went to take a shower and Blaine went to find an ice machine or some sort of food vending in the hostel. Instead, he found himself in a small shed out back with two young guys. They both spoke enough English for them to speak broken English and Dutch together. Hed never tell Kurt, but part of the reason hed wanted to visit was to try something, but with Kurt. Hed lived in New York City long enough to wonder about the appeal of combining sex and pot.

When he returned to their room, Kurt was finishing his facial routine and Blaine smelled strongly of weed.

"What did you–"

"Dont be mad."

"You bought– oh my god."

Blaine set the little bag down and showed him the cheap bong. "I just want to try it–with you."

"We are not–"

"Havent you ever wondered? And we could have high sex and–"

"Blaine, no."

Instead of trying logic, Blaine settled down on the bed beside his husband and started kissing any part of him he could reach. Then he resorted to begging.

In the end, Kurt caved.

"Did we get hit by a bus?" Kurt groaned. It was morning–or daylight. Daylight was the only way to describe it.

Blaine pressed his face into his pillow where theyd apparently piled them on the floor last night. "My ass hurts."

"Youre the one who didnt want to use lube."

"We had sex? I dont even remember my second hit– oh, no. Laying back down. Kurt, I feel awful."

"I told you it was a bad idea, I never even came. I bet it was mixed with something. Were lucky to be alive."

"Were never doing this again. Throw the rest out. I feel sick."

Kurt flushed the little bit left down the toilet and hid the bong in Blaines suitcase. They might not ever use it again, but it could be a good bargaining tool the next time Blaine came up with a stupid idea. They spent an extra day in Amsterdam, and this time Kurt decided on their activity, picking Anne Franks house instead of recreational drugs that made Blaine sick for the better part of their stay in the Netherlands.

They skipped most of Germany, hitting Hamburg on their way north into Denmark, then Sweden, and finally over the water to Helsinki. It was July now, a few days after the fourth. Burt and Carole had called when theyd left Copenhagen, but theyd had problems with their phones the farther east and north they went.

"I wish itd stop raining," Blaine said. He was sitting in their little rooms window seat and frowning at the drizzle. Ever since theyd left port in Copenhagen it had done nothing but rain.

From the bathroom, Kurt groaned and threw up again.

"Are you sure you dont want something? Yogurts supposed to settle your stomach."

"Im sea-sick, not real sick," Kurt reminded him. "I am never spending time on a boat ever again. Blargh!"

"At least were taking a plane to St. Petersburg!"

As soon as they stepped on the plane in St. Petersburg, Kurt and Blaine kept extra space between them. Everywhere else they hadnt thought much about holding hands, or having their arms linked or their shoulders brushing.

"Lets, um," Blaine paused nervously and stared at a group of men watching them. "Lets find the hostel and get a room."

"Three days and then Moscow," Kurt said, resisting the urge to take Blaines hand. Instead, he shoved his own into his pocket and they found a ride to the address. If anything, Blaine only grew more anxious and when they approached the desk, Kurt didnt blame him. "One room, please," he said in broken Russian.

The man stared at him, then Blaine, then asked for identification and payment. Kurt tried not to roll his eyes as he moved to dig his wallet out, but Blaines hand on his back stopped him.

"I left mine on the bus," he said, and before Kurt could blink he was back outside under an overcast sky. "Lets get out of here."

"Blaine, just ignore them. They cant do anything–"

"Cant they, though? This is their country. And they had those laws before the Olympics last year and do you see how theyre all looking at us?"

Kurt looked back through the glass door. There was a group of security standing by the desk now, talking to the receptionist. None of them had glanced their direction, but Kurt shivered anyway. Was Blaine right? Theyd both read the stories and the articles in the weeks leading up to their visit. He buttoned his coat up and tucked his bright purple ascot in his pocket. They werent safe here-Blaine didnt feel safe here. Theyd both acknowledged the risks when theyd planned their visits in eastern Europe, but Kurt hadnt expected it to feel so hostile, so fast. He glanced at Blaines clenched jaw and the coat buttoned up to his throat. There was a look in his eyes like the day Kurt had first asked him to his Junior prom.

"Come on," he said, trying to put the hand hold he wanted to give Blaine into his tone. "Maybe we can drive by some of the sights on the way back to the airport."

Blaine only nodded and hurried back towards their waiting cab.

They drove around to a few cathedrals, and then across several bridges Kurt had had on their long list. It wasnt easy, or possible, to pack three days of sights into an hour, but he picked a few and tried to calm Blaine down as they returned to the airport.

But Blaine was tenser than Kurt had ever seen him. Maybe it was because hed seen these same looks in high school, even in New York, that made him shrug it off. They could insult him, spit at him, or whatever. It couldnt hurt him. But it terrified Blaine because those looks had turned into enough to land him in the hospital.

They booked tickets with Blaines credit card, a first on their European tour, for the first flight out of the country. Prague. It wasnt on the list and that make Kurt more concerned. Blaine was panicking and he couldnt comfort him without something horrible happening to each of them.

As they passed through the gates to board, a loud, male voice started hollering behind them. Kurt turned to find Blaine, still on the other side of the gate, spun around as two burly security men jogged towards him.

"No," he muttered, pressing back through the crowd. "Blaine–"

The men stopped and Kurts chest froze over. This couldnt be happening. Theyd go on to Prague, then Greece, and Germany and–

One of the men held a wallet out to Blaine, who visibly swayed and accepted his dropped item. Once they were in the air, Kurt raised his arm rest and let Blaine burrow into his side until they landed.

Burt was woken in the middle of the night by his phone. He fumbled with it on the bedside table, then frowned when he saw it was Kurt calling.

"Kurt? Its one in the–"

"Daddy?"

Burt sat up and flipped the light on. "Whats wrong? What happened? Ill be on a plane in–"

"No, no, w- were fine," Kurt sniffled. He cleared his throat. "Were in Prague at a little hostel for the night. Blaines asleep. I just– I needed to hear your voice."

"You arent fine," Burt said as Carole rolled over and squinted up at him. "What happened? I thought you guys would be in Russia by now."

"Burt?"

"Its– we were in Russia, but– I dont think Ive ever been so scared. The people at the hostel and then– we got back to the airport and just left, but these security guys stopped Blaine and I- I thought–"

"And hes okay? Youre both okay?"

"Hes right here," Kurt said and Burt could picture his son-in-law, sleeping soundly against Kurts chest. "Sleeping. As soon as we got in the room he started crying and– we didnt even correct the lady at the desk and were in this tiny twin bed."

Carole had sat up beside him now. "Whats happened?"

"Theyre okay," Burt told her, putting his arm around her and holding her close since he couldnt with Kurt or Blaine. "Just shaken up."

"I just– I love you, Dad, okay? Im sorry I scared you, I just needed to hear your voice."

"Its fine, bud," Burt said. "I love you, okay? You two get some sleep and call us in the morning."

"It is morning here."

"Our morning, knuckle head."

"Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight, boys."

It was late afternoon when Kurt finally woke up. Hed sat up most of the night as Blaine cried and then slept, and finally around dawn, hed fallen asleep himself. Blaine was sitting at the little desk between the two twin beds, on his laptop with their itinerary open.

"Weve got almost an extra week now," he said when Kurt stretched and yawned. "We can spend more time in Germany or here or the U.K."

"Were close to Auschwitz, arent we? Its a bit of a drive, but we could do that tomorrow," Kurt asked, looking Blaines face over. There were dark patches under his eyes and he looked exhausted. "Lets just spent the day in the room, and tomorrow we can do something. I dont feel like going anywhere today."

Blaine stopped typing and rearranging and nodded. "Yeah, I– that sounds nice."

Kurt sat up and looked around the dim room. The first thing he noticed was the second, unused bed. The bedding had been rumpled up and tangled into a pile.

"Blaine," he said softly, "come back to bed?"

"Kurt, Im fixing our schedule. Weve got so much we can shift around and change and–"

"Blaine, please, come back to bed."

"Or we could–"

"Blaine."

Kurt leaned over and pulled Blaines hand away from the keyboard and guided him back into the little bed. "Im right here and were safe," he murmured as Blaine laid down next to him. "Nobody is going to hurt either of us."

"I know," Blaine mumbled as Kurt rolled to face him. He wiggled forward until they were in each others arms and their foreheads were pressed together. "It was stupid. I was overreacting, wasnt I? We read too much about stuff on those blogs and websites and–"

"And you have a right to react how you do," Kurt finished. He kissed Blaine softly and held him closer. "I shouldnt have insisted we try Russia. Not after your experiences with bullying and violence. I just wanted to see the ballet and the beautiful buildings and get one of those dolls that has a bunch of smaller ones inside of it. Im sorry. It was a waste of money. It wasnt your fault."

"I should have told you soon that I was scared," Blaine said quietly. "But youd already started those visas and everything so we could even get in the country and… Im sorry you didnt get to see anything."

"Im sorry I put you back into high school with this," Kurt replied. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," Blaine said. He kissed him roughly then and Kurt let Blaine control it, let him move and mold the moment to what he needed right now. "Can we just lay here and hold each other? I dont want the rest of the world right now."

"Okay," Kurt agreed. He kissed Blaine on his nose-tip and pulled the blankets up around them.

They visited Auschwitz Memorial and Museum the next day, then drove late into the night to Budapest. A night there, then a day in the city, and again they moved on. They were both anxious and jumpy still, and almost everywhere they went someone looked at them oddly. Kurt liked to think it was because they were American, but when he climbed back into the car he always looked his outfit over and knew otherwise. Blaines own wardrobe had faded to a bleary arrangement of loose jeans and monochromatic shirts.

By the time they had visited Romania, the Black Sea, and Istanbul, Blaine had perked up some, but they was still a block between them. The sex that had dominated the first three weeks had fizzled out, and by the time they reached Athens, Kurt gave up hope of it returning until they made it back home.

And he got it, he did. At every hostel, hed tested the walls and decided, with Blaine, not tonight. For over a week it was always not tonight. They were both too loud, regardless of positions or angles.

But Athens... their room was bigger and on the Aegean Sea. The walls were stone and they had a corner room with one empty room for a neighbor.

"Blaine?" Kurt was stripped naked and shifting from foot to foot outside the bathroom door. Against his navel, he was stiff and aching. "Can I come in?"

"What? Kurt? Im washing my hair!"

Kurt pressed his forehead against the door and groaned. With another look at himself, he opened the door and climbed into the shower.

"Kurt– mmph! Oh!"

They spent three days in Athens. Two days seeing the sights and the last in their room and making up for lost time. But they were both still quiet, their movements tense and jerky, their voices clutched tight in their throats instead of echoing around the room. At the end of the night, after theyd had dinner delivered to their room, they stood naked on the little balcony and watched the sunset over the Mediterranean.

"Egypts over there," Blaine said, his gaze fixed south. Kurt kissed the spot where a strip of sunlight was highlighting the golden bronze of his skin. "Ive always wanted to see the pyramids."

"Mmm, yeah, the ancient Egyptians were my favorite part of history," Kurt said, looking towards the south. "And they worshipped cats. I bet Oscar misses us."

"Hes got Rachel," Blaine said. "And Santana and Sam. He looks happy in the pictures they keep sending."

Kurt only yawned and held Blaine tighter.

"We should go," Blaine said suddenly as the suns edge finally sunk below the horizon. "To Egypt, I mean," he added at Kurts raised eyebrow. "Weve got an extra ten days with how fast weve been moving. We could see the pyramids and the Sphinx and the Red Sea."

"But money–"

"My credit card has zero percent APR for another thirteen months," Blaine reminded him. "And weve got plenty of extra since we skipped Russia. Come on, Kurt, five days in Egypt."

Kurt looked at Blaines grin and the light slinking back into his eyes. "Okay. Lets go."

One night was spent in Alexandria, then they moved down along the Nile to Cairo and Giza and the list of sights theyd compiled on the plane. It was the best time theyd had since theyd been in Russia. They spent five wonderful days seeing the pyramids, touring the Nile, driving a little rental jeep out to the Red Sea, and taking dozens of pictures of the Sphinx. They found presents for everyone at the little stalls and shops, and Kurt bought more books than he could carry. By the time they returned to Alexandria to figure out a flight plane back to Europe, Kurt was pleasantly freckled and Blaine a deep brown.

"Theres nothing heading that way tonight," Kurt said as they looked the schedules over in the lobby of their little hotel. "Theres one two days from now, ugh. How long would it take to drive back?"

"About a week," Blaine said, his eyes watching the boats on the water outside. "Theres always a cruise."

"A cruise–" Kurt looked up at where his husband was staring. "Oh, no. Im not spending days vomiting."

"You were fine on the Nile and the Red Sea," Blaine countered. "The water up north was really choppy. Think about it," he insisted. "Theres one thats docking right now. We could get on board and see the whole Mediterranean. Sicily, Malta, the Strait of Gibraltar. We could go back to Spain, maybe."

"That does sound nice..."

"Ill go ask!"

"Blaine– no, that wasnt a yes!"

But Blaine was out the door. A few hours later, their bags were in a little cabin and the ship sailed west.

Kurts stomach held up and adjusted after a few hours. Theyd missed the first part of the tour, through the eastern basin and around Greece. But that was fine. Those were areas theyd both wanted to avoid for their own safety, especially after Russia. It was a small ship, and sailed at a moderate pace, west to Malta, then north to Sicily where Kurt squealed like a little kid and spent the evening they had dragging Blaine all over. From there they visited Tunis along the African coast, then another Italian island and then it was west for the Strait of Gibraltar.

At sunset on their last night on board, Kurt and Blaine stood at the bow, Blaines chin tucked over Kurts shoulder.

"We should take a video for everyone," Blaine said as Kurt tried to snap a picture. "Itll capture this better."

Kurt switched to video and pressed record. He held it up towards their view, beyond the rails towards the suns red hues and fading light in a deep blue and purple and orange sky.

"Oh, Burt, Kurts sent you a video!"

Carole hurried into the kitchen with his phone and turned him away from the stove. Before he could ask anything, shed pressed play.

"Hi, Dad!" Kurts voice said. The screen was filled with a beautiful sunset over some body of water. It was one of the most gorgeous natural sights hed ever seen. "Surprise, were on the Mediterranean," Kurt continued. He laughed at something Blaines voice murmured. "Yeah, we took a detour to Egypt and got you something. Sorry, we havent called much since Greece. Im not even sure when thisll go through, but its your birthday here."

"Happy Birthday, Burt!" Blaines voice called. The camera shifted and they had a momentary glimpse of Kurt and Blaines smiling faces. "Well see you in less than a month!"

The camera turned back to the sunset, already starting to disappear belong the horizon. "We miss you and we love you all, and were definitely taking you on a cruise of the Mediterranean because this is the best idea Blaines ever had!"

"Hey! I think proposing was a much better idea."

The camera moved again, first catching a railing and then Kurts hand seemed to have settled on it. They had a sudden view of Kurt and Blaine, at a crooked angle. Blaines arms were around Kurts neck, tugging him down for a kiss in front of the sunset. Burt smiled as they lost themselves in it, and then a whistle blasted overhead as the sun disappeared.

"Oh, whoops, the cameras still on."

"Turn it off. Your dad doesnt want to watch us make out on a boat."

After three days of seeing the countryside in southern Spain, Kurt and Blaine rented another car and headed north, straight through France to Geneva. It was a long drive, but after so many planes and days on a boat, they were glad to be back in control of their direction.

From Geneva they made a few bookings and found a small cabin in the Swiss Alps to stay at for a few more days.

"I c- c- cant believe they call this August," Kurt said as they hurried inside the little cabin with their last bags.

"Well, this is the mountains," Blaine said as he shivered and dropped his bags on the little couch in the main room. It was an enormous room compared to where theyd been staying. A little kitchenette, a living room with a fire already blazing in the hearth, and two doors–one for the bedroom and the other for the bathroom.

"Ugh, I need a hot tub."

Together, they unpacked their clean clothes and set them in the dresser in the bedroom. It was late afternoon already. Instead of trying the slopes, they took a hot shower together, had something to eat from what theyd bought in town, and snuggled down by the fire.

"Much better," Kurt murmured as Blaine hugged him close under their blankets. "Youre always so warm."

"Comes in handy with you as my husband," Blaine said. "Your fingers are like ice."

"I guess that rules out sex tonight," Kurt said, leaning his head on Blaines shoulder. "Shame. Were finally all alone and you can be as loud as you normally are."

"Hey! Youre just as loud as me!"

"Am not!"

Blaine laughed and pressed Kurt down onto the rug in front of the fire. "You absolutely are and Im going to prove it to you." Their lips met greedily and Kurt was almost ashamed by how hard he was panting when Blaine pulled back to tug his shirt off. "Let me hear you," Blaine said as he nibbled on Kurts jaw. "Its been so long since Ive gotten to hear you fall apart."

"I w- want to hear you, too," Kurt breathed as Blaine started working his shirt open. "We havent– not since Denmark."

Together, they slowly pulled each layer of cloth off and truly lost themselves in each other after weeks of stilted moments.

It snowed brutally the first day in the cabin. Kurt and Blaine barely noticed the storm outside over their own pleasure and noise. They drifted from the fire, to the bedroom, to the bath, to the couch, saying they were done and then finding themselves breathing in deeply against each others skin moments later.

By the time they hit the slopes, Kurt was glad the weather was giving him a reason to wear a scarf. After weeks in the Mediterranean, even just above zero degrees Celsius felt like the Arctic Circle.

"Kurt, come on!"

"Blaine, Im going to break–ah! Im going to break my face and you know thats my moneymaker!" Kurt wobbled again and stayed firmly latched onto the bristly fir tree. "You go on. Ill just wait up here and, um–"

Blaine skied towards him with ease. "Its only a bunny slope," he said encouragingly. "See, look at that little girl go. Ill even hold your hand all the way down."

"I– what if I break my butt and I cant–"

"Then Ill just blow you and ride you until its healed," Blaine whispered with a wink. "Come on," he said. Blaine took Kurts hand and pushed them towards the slope. "Bend your knees and relax."

"Im about to break my ass and you want me to– ahhh!"

Kurt flailed his arms as he sped down, losing Blaines hand and sliding neatly onto his butt at the bottom. Blaine slid to a sharp stop next to him, laughing loudly.

"That was horrible!"

"Are you kidding? That was great! You made it to the bottom, didnt you? Come on, lets go again!"

"Blaine– no, I wanna stay down here and be a bottom again!"

By the end of their little trip into the Swiss Alps Kurt had gotten the hang of skiing. He was too stubborn to admit to Blaine that he was really loving it, but Blaine had figured it out when hed had to drag Kurt away at sundown. They spent their last night pressed together in bed, letting their voices fill the silence of the snowy mountain, finally climbing out of bed at dawn and moving on.

Germany was the last stop they had planned for continental Europe. It was out of their original order, but they passed through Munich, Nuremburg, and ended in Berlin for two days.

"I cant believe the summers almost over," Blaine said as they strolled along the Berlin Wall Memorial. "We should live out here. Not Germany," he added at Kurts expression. "Just Europe. Maybe somewhere in London. Theres so much to see and learn about here. Its so... different from home."

"Wed miss my Dad and Carole and everyone," Kurt said as he stopped to reach one of the information boards. "It is nice over here, though. Londons next. If we like it enough, maybe, after school. I mean, they have the West End, so we could always do that."

"Come on," Blaine said. "Lets go finish packing for the flight."

Despite their limited time, Kurt and Blaine spent almost a week of their last two in London. Kurt was adamant about visiting all the royal and historical sites, and spent over an hour having Blaine take pictures of him with a Royal Guard. They saw a show in the West End, toured the Olympic Park where the 2012 Olympics had been, and tried more tea than theyd had in their entire lives.

From there it was west to Bristol (with a detour to Stonehenge), north to Glasgow for a few days, across the Irish Sea to Belfast, and then a rather drunken tour down to Dublin. That one, Blaine was happy to say, had been entirely Kurts idea, though it had ended much better than his stroll into recreational drugs. They tried anything that sounds ridiculous, and ended up quite hung-over during their time in Dublin. On the seventeenth of August, they rented their last car and drove across Ireland to Limerick where they would catch their plane back to Ohio.

"Ten weeks," Kurt said as they looked out from the windows of the airport. "I cant believe its been ten weeks."

"Weve been married for ten weeks," Blaine said, flipping through his wallet absentmindedly, "and my ID still only says Anderson."

"Well change them as soon as were back in New York next week," Kurt said. He leaned over and kissed Blaine softly. Overhead, their flight for Columbus was called for boarding. "Are you ready to go home, Mr. Hummel-Anderson?"

"I never left home," Blaine said as he stood and took Kurts hand. "Ive been with him the whole time."