Kurt is sure that he has been singing Somewhere Over The Rainbow longer than hes been singing the ode to good ol Uncle Sam. (And hes sure hes never sung the national anthem with as much passion and sense of loyalty as he has Frank Sinatras anthem to New York.)

The noise, the excitement, the glamour, the life... Theyve been calling his name for as long as he can remember. Broadway has been his dream since... since, well, ever.

Blaine has known this since that first lunch together, when Kurt had been late getting to fifth period because nether of them were ready to end the impromptu not-a-date.

(Kurt got away with it with a slap to the wrist. Blaine got three days of cafeteria duty and suspension from the Warblers for missing basically an entire afternoon of classes.)

Musical theatre was the first thing theyd truly bonded over. Before they ever debated on which Hemsworth brother was the better kisser, they had playfully argued over whether Julie Andrews and The Sound Of Music or Judy Garland and The Wizard Of Oz was the more iconic one.

Which was why dreaming about their future together came so easy. They had the exact same idea of what they wanted most out of life: the lights of Broadway, and the love of their relationship. There was never any question of where they would settle once they had officially and legally promised their forevers to each other.

Moving out of their conveniently-close-to-work, cozy (read: tight), fifth floor apartment in Chelsea never factored into their plans.

It is one night, sequestered together in Blaines childhood bedroom after a visit to the Schuesters for Dannys fifth birthday left them particularly emotional but unable to verbalise the depth of what they were feeling, that the idea takes root.

Every touch, every caress, every kiss is more loaded than usual; their lovemaking lasts well into sunrise, trying to convey through action what words werent enough for.

Kurt is the first to bring it up.

"We still have a little room for a third, tiny person, right?"

Blaine turns where he is snugly nestled in Kurts arms, eyes closed as he pictures their apartment eight hundred miles away. "We dont need three couches."

"We barely invite our friends over anyway."

"And when they do, they dont stay the night."

"We can keep the balcony doors locked for the next few years."

"Soundproof the walls so we dont wake the people in the adjacent units at three in the morning."

"Mrs. Marks doesnt allow pets in the building, but its not like well be getting a dog or anything in the near future..."

"Kurt?"

"Westchester?"

"Yes."