The studio in the back room of the boutique was usually a neat and organized workspace, a space nearly any designer would kill to have, but this wasn't so the last few weeks. It was crunch time. Numerous sketches were pinned and taped up across the walls, fabrics littered the tables, and bolts were unraveled in odd locations, the dress forms were in various states of dress and undress, half-finished garments were left in the machines, and the rack was gradually filling up with finished pieces.

In fact, it might have been terrifying to see the pair of scissors sticking out of the chest of one of the dress forms if one had just walked in. It could have been a scene out of a horror film, at least, a terrible nightmare for anyone usually as put together as Kurt and Blaine.

To an outsider, it might not seem like there were in fact still three whole months until the runway show. But three months would fly by when Kurt and Blaine were working tirelessly day and night to pull together what would be one of the most important and monumental moments in their career. Their signature line, emBarK, would make its debut at the upcoming Mercedes Benz Fashion Week, and it would be an understatement to say that they were nervous.

The final wave of models had cleared out, and the two designers sat sorting through resumes and photographs of an assortment of the auditioned runway models.

"Uh uh," Kurt said, shaking his head at Blaine's previous pick. He slid the photo in front of him over to Blaine. "Her. I like her look." The young woman in the glossy photograph had a very pale complexion, almost hawk-like features, and dark hair and eyes.

"Alright. What about – Ana? I think she's a good fit." Blaine smiled at the picture of the slightly curvaceous Italian woman before him on the table as he imagined her in one of their looks.

"She's nice," Kurt agreed. He leaned his face against his hand and watched Blaine shuffle through the remainder of the casting photos. As his eyes followed the movement, Kurt felt his vision begin to blur, and then his chin slipped and jolted him. "I'm ready to call it a day," he sighed, shaking his head and trying to look like he hadn't just nearly face planted into the tabletop. "I'm exhausted. We have another day of casting tomorrow too, so sleep sounds like a good option."

Blaine looked over at Kurt whose eyes were slowly fluttering closed and shot him a smile. "We have about eight girls now, but I feel like we still haven't found the perfect one to wear the showstopper. I don't even know what I'm looking for, but no one has the right – energy," he said. Blaine rose from his seat at the table and pinned up the last two girls they had agreed on.

"Perfect. I'm so glad this whole thing is really beginning to come together," he added, glancing around at the sketches and their complete work.

"Oh my god, Blaine. It's a freakin' mess in here," Kurt laughed. "It looks more like falling apart to me." He stretched and stood up to join Blaine by the wall, crossing his arms as he looked on.

"C'mon. Let's go home. We can pick up where we left off tomorrow because I don't even feel like attempting to clean any of this up right now," Kurt said.

"Yeah, and soon I'll be too tired to even throw something in the microwave. I'm starving," Blaine yawned.

Kurt linked arms with Blaine and led him out of the back room, flicked off the lights, and they locked up and headed out.

-s-

The subway car was packed, and Kurt hung onto the bar by the door while Blaine huddled up next to him. The train rattled and screeched along the tracks, jerking them around a bit, causing Blaine to nearly lose his hat which he held onto with one hand while the other was wrapped around Kurt's waist for support. They were glad when they finally reached their stop. The doors slid open, and they stepped off into the musty station. Ah, the familiar aroma of urine, Kurt thought. And, in the June heat, the smells were even more nauseating. He attempted to hold his breath until they resurfaced in the city, gasping slightly once they were topside.

The neighborhood was nice enough, it wasn't Manhattan, but Manhattan wasn't really an option. Even with Blaine's prize money from the show, which contributed mostly to the boutique and the line, apartment hunting landed them in Brooklyn. Kurt's old apartment was literally a closet, and the two of them, although they had tried, could barely breathe in there together, let alone try to actually live. So when they decided to move in together, the search for a bigger space began.

Kurt still clung on tightly to his grandiose dream of one day living in SoHo, if they were ever to become so fortunate, but this would do for now. He had to begin somewhere and build towards what he really wanted. And Kurt understood well the struggle and how much more satisfying the outcome would be when he finally overcame it all.

At least they could say they felt safe here, despite the usual Brooklyn stigma, and they fit right in and were comfortable amongst the other artists, writers, and the significant presence of other gay individuals like themselves in the neighborhood.

Blaine pulled open the door that led into the lobby of their building and held it for Kurt. They greeted the door man before habitually grabbing the mail and catching the elevator up to the fourth floor on which their apartment was situated.

Kurt unlocked the door and let Blaine in before closing it behind them and letting out a heavy sigh.

"We should have ordered food while we were still at the studio," Kurt said, his shoulders dropping in exhaustion.

"Don't worry about it. Go get ready to settle down, and I'll take care of it. I've got this Asian dish I can prepare in minutes," Blaine explained.

"Thank you. I knew you wouldn't let me die," Kurt said with a crooked grin.

"Always a drama queen," Blaine said and then leaned over and gave Kurt a quick peck on the cheek.

"You know I can't help it, but at least it keeps life interesting."

Blaine went to work in the kitchen while Kurt made his way to the bedroom. The bed looked dangerously inviting, but he couldn't go to sleep on an empty stomach, so he refrained from sitting down. Instead, he pulled open the dresser in search of pajamas. But as he searched for something comfortable, he decided that he'd rather just strip out of what he was currently wearing and call it a night.

"Fuck it," he mumbled to himself. He hung up his jacket and pants, placed his accessories on the dresser, and tossed his undershirt into the laundry basket. He inhaled deeply as the scent of peppers, steak, and rice frying reached his nose. He stood there in the room, his mouth watering as the food smells tormented his senses, and he closed his eyes and felt himself begin to drift. Just then, Blaine's voice brought him back.

"Kurt?" Blaine called out. "The food's ready."

"Coming," he responded. He plodded out and took a seat at the table where Blaine already had a plate set out for him.

Blaine turned around; his eyes widened when he caught sight of Kurt, and he just stood there with a salacious grin that he couldn't hold back.

"What?" he asked flatly in response to Blaine's expression.

"Kurt – are you naked?" Blaine said, trying not to break into laughter.

"Not completely, but it's not like it's anything you haven't seen before. Is there a problem?"

"Oh! No, not at all. Just took me by surprise, that's all. Suddenly, I feel extremely overdressed," he joked, tugging at the collar of his dress shirt.

"You are. And I can fix that – but, for now, I'd like that food you have there," Kurt said, grabbing at the air toward the plate in Blaine's hands.

Blaine laughed. "Oh – sorry," he said with a smile. Blaine set the stir fry between them and took a seat across from Kurt. Both were silent as they ate, but Blaine kept stealing glances at Kurt who returned his glances with narrowed eyes and a playful grin.

The meal was soon devoured, and Kurt helped Blaine clean up before slumping onto the couch and sinking into its cushions. His head sitting heavily in his hand, Kurt pulled up the DVR menu and scanned through the recordings of the mostly inane reality television shows and dramas that they hoped to catch up on sometime soon.

Blaine returned after changing into a lazy form of pajamas, a tank top and some boxer shorts. In the summer months, he found it easier just to lose the clothes when in the comfort of his own home - something Kurt had already grasped and ran with. He messed around in the kitchen for a few minutes, operating the microwave, before joining Kurt.

"I'm kind of in the mood for a movie," Blaine said, sitting down next to Kurt, a bowl of freshly popped popcorn in his hands. He pulled his legs up and sat cross legged, setting the bowl in his lap.

"Were you thinking romcom? Or action? Or - no, I can't really do horror," Kurt said, shaking his head and grimacing at the thought. He reached over and popped a few pieces of the buttery snack into his mouth.

"How about a musical? We haven't watched one in a while."

Blaine set the bowl down on the coffee table and made his way over to the shelf that held their dvd collection. Their collection had been growing little by little every time they went out and discovered something new that they both liked. At first, it was Kurt's musicals and Kurt's romantic comedies. And, at first, it was Blaine's action movies and Blaine's horror films. Then, as they settled in together, their possessions slowly morphed into an indiscernible conglomeration of Kurt and Blaine's this and that. And that was very nice, to be able to have the us and the we and the ours. Yes. Kurt grinned to himself as he thought about it.

And the same went for their clothing, furniture, and the other little odds and ends around the apartment. Blaine brought many of the small things over from his place in Chicago such as a lamp, a hat stand, and his television, while Kurt brought over furniture like his small but cozy sofa and his dining room set. Together, they browsed the flea markets around the city and picked out vintage pieces and fixtures. When it came to the bed, though, Kurt's was way too small, so they splurged and bought a designer pillow top mattress, justifying the price with the importance of comfort and a good night's sleep.

And as their things began to peacefully mingle and comfortably cohabitate, so did Kurt and Blaine.

"The Producers?" Blaine asked, pulling out the case. Kurt nodded, and Blaine placed the movie in the player before sliding back in beside Kurt on the couch.

Slightly past the halfway point, when Franz Liebkind took to the stage to belt out 'Springtime for Hitler', it became apparent that it was bedtime for Kurt. Kurt had completely checked out and lay there, slightly drooling, against Blaine's shoulder. Blaine, who could feel himself beginning to drift, chuckled to himself and decided that he ought to get Kurt to bed. He turned the movie off and gently nudged Kurt awake so that he could lead him to the bedroom.

After they settled into bed, Blaine rolled over and wrapped his arms around Kurt, pulling him closer to his body.

"I know you've been stressed out over all of the work we've been doing, but we're almost there. We'll get our big break soon," he whispered by Kurt's ear.

"I know," he answered quietly. "At least we get to work through this together. I can't believe I used to think I'd be able to do all of this on my own, because our reality is hectic. Hopefully soon we'll be able to afford an assistant or something. And some seamstresses."

"That would be very nice," Blaine agreed. "Just three more months."

But if Blaine had seen the expression on Kurt's face, he would have known that Kurt was barely holding it together. Three more months meant that, with each passing day, the stress would become increasingly more intense, and he was already feeling overwhelmed. He stared sadly at the wall until his weary eyes fluttered shut again.

-s-

Blaine awoke suddenly to an elbow in his side right before a knee connected with his leg. Kurt was tossing and turning, pulling the blankets every which way. It must be nightmare, he thought. But this was the first time Blaine had ever witnessed something like this, and he began to panic, not sure of how to handle the situation. Should he wake him up? Blaine vaguely recalled reading that you shouldn't wake someone up when they are having a nightmare. Or was that sleepwalking? One of Kurt's arms flailed out and struck Blaine in the stomach, ultimately making the decision for him as he reached over to shake Kurt awake.

"Kurt. Kurt, wake up, please just wake up," he said quietly.

Then Kurt's eyes shot open, and he looked around in terror.

"It's okay," Blaine said.

"Blaine – I – " Kurt was sweating and shaking.

"You're okay now," was all Blaine could think to say as he scooped Kurt's shaking form into his arms and held him there, massaging Kurt's arms to soothe him. "I love you. You're safe now. It was just a nightmare. You're here with me now."

Kurt felt himself tearing up. "Blaine. He was – I – I just want it to end. I don't want to feel like this anymore," he sobbed as tears streaked his cheeks.

Blaine hated to see Kurt suffering like this, knowing that he had no control. When Kurt had first told him about his monster of an ex-boyfriend, Blaine had wanted to hunt him down and exact revenge, but having now witnessed the residual damage, he just wanted to go back in time and prevent it from ever happening.

He combed his fingers through Kurt's hair and gently wiped the tears from his eyes.

"You don't have to talk about it unless you want to," Blaine cooed.

"Thank you. I love you so much," he said, curling up under the covers again.

"I love you too, Kurt. Now try to go back to sleep," Blaine nearly whispered. Kurt bit his lip and only nodded in response, relaxing back into the mattress.

It didn't take long for Kurt to fall asleep again as Blaine continued to massage his arms and back, but Blaine stayed up deep in thought, worrying about Kurt. All he wanted was for Kurt to feel better, to get over that dark part of his past, but maybe having Blaine wasn't enough to help him heal completely. He thought the nightmares had ended, but, with the preparation of the line, it was possible that the stress they were under lately had triggered it all. He really hoped that, once this was all over, things would get better.