Chapter 1:

"Warbler Blaine, you are the sweetest of sweet," Kurt Hummel said as he accepted the handpicked dandelions his boyfriend, Blaine, had grabbed for him from the yard a few feet away.

"What sort of gentleman would I be if I showed up to my date's door without flowers?" Blaine asked, with a bit of cheek.

"Not a very good one at all," Kurt scoffed. "And who said chivalry was dead? Pshaw!" He clucked his tongue and moved aside to usher his now chuckling boyfriend into his home. It was summertime, and the couple had spent every extra spare moment they had, together. Granted, it wasn't a lot of time. They were forced to spend a decent amount of time apart as well, what with Blaine working at Six Flags as a performer, and Kurt composing the next great musical (Pip Pip Hooray), so when they did get to be together, they made the most of it.

Today was just a causal meal at home with the Hummel-Hudson family - nothing fancy. The couple had long since left the need to go all out every date, and instead, had learned to simply revel in each other's company.

"Dinner's not going to be for another hour or so," Kurt told his boyfriend. "Longer if my Dad manages to burn everything and Carole has to take over. Let's go up to my room."

"Ah, Mr. Burt Hummel is still trying to become America's next Top Chef," Blaine said knowingly. "To your room it is." He started toward the stairs without direction, having gone this way a thousand times over. The other boy followed close behind, dandelions still clinched tightly in his hand.

Once in the room, Blaine collapsed onto the bed like he owned the place, and then scooted over to make room. Kurt left the door open just a smidge, in order to obey Burt's "Door Stays Open When the Boyfriend is Over" policy, before also climbing onto the bed.

"It's good to see you," Blaine said once they were both situated properly – Kurt's head resting on Blaine's chest as Blaine himself laid flat on his back, his head propped up on the a couple pillows.

"You too," Kurt murmured, his eyes closed, just taking in his surroundings and the boy who was now absent mindedly running fingers through his hair. This week had been particularly stressful for both of them. Blaine was overworking himself in his performances, and Kurt had hit a nasty bout of writer's block in his composing. Their late night phone calls had consisted of mostly just Kurt ranting about lack of inspiration while Blaine tried not to dose off. It was good that they finally had a chance to see each other when they weren't in high stress. It was summer, after all.

They lay like that for quite some time, silent and peaceful, when Blaine took hold of one of Kurt's hands and began kissing his fingers. Kurt's face went scarlet instantaneously out of embarrassment… and maybe a bit of a flush from the physical contact.

"What are you doing?" he asked. Blaine's grin was so big, Kurt could hear it.

"I'm kissing my boyfriend," he said simply, placing a few more tiny kisses on Kurt's fingertips. "Whom I love dearly and haven't been able to see in what feels like forever."

Kurt pulled his hand away, but before the other boy had time to object, he turned himself over and grinned. "You make a pretty good casse, Blaine Warbler." Blaine laughed.

"Anderson, Kurt. You do know that, right?"

"Of course."

"Just checking."

They both laughed some more, and Kurt leaned over and kissed Blaine like, well, like he hadn't been able to do so all week, during a time when he really could of used it. Needless to say, when he pulled away, Blaine looked a little windswept, and he mumbled,

"God. You know, you've got wonderful hands, Kurt, don't get me wrong, but kissing them certainly doesn't measure up to kissing you like this."

"I should hope so," Kurt scoffed, and he was about to say something else snarky, but Blaine shut him up with another kiss. It was longer this time, and even more passionate. They leaned to each other, embraced one another, and soon found themselves rolling around on the mattress, sheets and comforter getting tangled up around them, as they changed positions, Blaine now pressing the weight of his body down on the other boy with purpose and heated aggression. He took both of Kurt's arms and pinned them down.

They pulled apart a little bit, enough for them to make eye contact, and for just a moment, they listened to the other breathe, deep and heavily, their chests rising and falling against one another. Blaine then leaned down and kissed once more, but soon left Kurt's mouth and traveled to his cheeks, to his neck, and to his collar bone, where he sucked and kissed the other boy's fair skin. He bit the area gently in a tiny love bite, and reveled in the way Kurt squirmed. He then pulled away, respectfully.

Kurt lay there a moment, and then pulled himself up so that he was sitting. They untangled themselves from the web of blankets, and Kurt's now-free arm reached up and mindlessly felt where Blaine had been but a minute before. He couldn't see it, but he was sure the area was a nice, obvious red, left in the shape of the very first hickey he had received from his boyfriend.

"Sorry," the other boy said sheepishly. "I got a little ahead of myself."

"Don't apologize," Kurt said with a grin, simply thankful that Blaine knew him well enough to know when to back away. It was true that he was getting more and more comfortable with the physical part of their relationship – admittedly, that had taken a lot of getting used to from a boy whose only prior experience with anything remotely sexual was being forced into a wet, painful kiss in a damp, smelly locker room – but he could now say that he enjoyed it. That said, it still was completely new territory for him, and, forever the romantic, handpicked dandelions from his own front yard meant the same to him as a hickey on the collar bone, no matter how good of a kisser Blaine happened to be. And the best part was, Blaine knew, and accepted this, and never pressured him into anything he wasn't ready for. They were working on Kurt's terms here, and for that, Kurt was grateful.

"Hey you guys!" Finn's voice rang out from down the hallway, and the boys found themselves instantly thankful that they had stopped when they did. Kurt adjusted his shirt so that his hickey wasn't showing, and Blaine rubbed the sides of his mouth. Finn knocked twice before pushing the cracked door open all the way.

"Mom sent me here to get you two. Dinner will be ready in ten."

"So Dad didn't burn it?" Kurt asked, smirking.

"Nah, but that's probably because he didn't cook it. He said he wasn't feelin' too good, so Mom did it. If you ask me, I think it was just a ploy to get out of cooking for give people."

Kurt and Blaine laughed. "We'll be right down," they told him.

"Cool." Finned turned to leave, but stopped just long enough to say, "Oh, and hey Kurt? You've got sex hair. You might want to fix that before you go to dinner." And he was gone.

Kurt went scarlet again, his hands flying to his head to smooth out his 'do, as Blaine nearly choked, he was laughing so hard.

Once they were downstairs (and Kurt's hair was appropriately styled), the two of them, plus Finn, helped set the table. Carole brought out a huge pan of vegetarian lasagna, and Burt soon joined them, looking a little pale.

"You okay, Mr. Hummel?" Blaine asked as Burt took a chair next to him and immediately reached for his water glass.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," he said, a bit absent mindedly. He grabbed his napkin and dabbed at his forehead which was shinning with sweat. No one noticed.

"The food looks magnificent, Carole," Kurt said pointedly, casting a look toward his father, who merely looked up at him and shrugged.

"Thanks, Sweetie," Carole said as she started to serve everyone.

Dinner was fairly uneventful. Finn wolfed down three helpings of the lasagna, Kurt and Blaine played footsie underneath the table, and Carole and Burt made small talk.

"You barely touched your food," she said to him as everyone, even Finn, began to wind down and throw their napkins onto their plates. Burt shrugged and wiped his forehead again. Carole gave him a look of mild concern and clucked her tongue.

"Alright then, boys help me clean the table and I'll get dessert."

'Dessert' was all Finn needed to hear. He jumped to his feet and started to pick up plates, and Kurt and Blaine soon joined in. They carried everything in and took their seats again as Carole brought out a large, blueberry cobbler, and a tub of vanilla ice cream.

"Awesome, Mom," Finn said a minute later, his mouth full of both.

"You could have the decency to at least swallow before you compliment her, Finn," Kurt scoffed, his eyebrow raised and his nose shriveled. Finn made a face at him.

"I hear it's actually polite to be rude in other cultures. Or something," he said lamely. Kurt opened his mouth to retort, but Blaine cut in.

"It really is good, Mrs. Hummel, either way," he said with his natural charm that made Carole smile warmly at him.

"Thank you," she said, shooting a look to the other two boys who looked sheepish.

A loud clatter sounded. "Oh, darn it," Blaine said, scooting his chair out. "I dropped my spoon." He took his napkin and wiped the spilled ice cream off his lap and then reached under the table to grab his fallen utensil.

"Oh, I can go get you a new one," Carole offered, starting to rise from her chair, but Blaine put up a hand and shook his head.

"No, no, don't bother. It's fine. I know where they're at. You've done plenty tonight already. I'll just go grab one." He got up and went toward the kitchen. From behind him he heard Burt tell the table,

"I'll be right back, also. I'm gonna go get another glass of water." This was his third glass.

Blaine was rummaging through the silverware drawer while Burt held his glass under the faucet. "Kurt said that they've been keeping you pretty busy over there at that Six Flags place," Burt said, making small talk.

"Yeah," Blaine agreed, fiddling with the clean spoon in his hand. "Five performances a day, plus rehearsal. It's pretty brutal."

"I've never really understood how that whole singing and dancing thing works and everything, but if they work you as much as they do in that Glee club…" he trailed off.

"It's sort of like that, only the hours are longer, they expect more out of you, and it's not as fun."

"You makin' good money?"

"A decent amount, yeah."

"Ah, well, then I bet it beats working in fast food, or something like it." Blaine laughed at this.

"Definitely."

He turned to leave the kitchen when he heard Burt let out a small grunt. He looked back over to the older man and saw that he had a grimace on his face and a hand to his chest.

"You okay there, Mr. Hummel?" he asked, a little tentative. Burt waved away the question.

"Yeah, yeah, it's nothing... nothing." He sounded unsure.

"Are you sure? Because, I mean, you've seemed a little out of commission all night. If you wanted to go and lie down or something, I'm sure the others would under-" but he never finished his sentence. Burt's hand that was covering his chest suddenly clinched and his other arm, which was holding his glass of water, dropped it, shattering the cup into several shards and spilling water all over the floor.

"Mr. Hummel?" Blaine asked, frightened. Burt's eyes widened and he looked like he was having a hard time breathing. He reached and groped for the counter, knocking Blaine's dirty spoon onto the floor with a loud clatter to join the broken glass.

Blaine ran forward and grabbed hold of Burt's sides, trying to help him keep his balance, but to no avail. Both of them lost their footing and tumbled to the ground. Blaine tried to break his fall by putting his hand down, which proved to be a mistake as his hand skidded against the floor and he ended up slicing himself on a particularly jagged piece of glass. Ignoring it, he sprang to his feet and began screaming for help.

"From out in the dining room, the other three, who had been idly chatting about summer plans and the new school year to come, heard Blaine's frantic calls and stopped their conversation dead in its tracks. All three of them dropped their spoons with a chorus of metal against glass and rushed to the kitchen where they found Blaine crouched down above and unconscious Burt, his ear to his mouth, listening for breath.

"His breathing is really shallow," he said, looking up at the other three, who were looking back in horror and confusion. "He just collapsed. He was like, grasping at his chest and having a hard time breathing. I think it might have been a heart attack or something."

Carole got into action mode right away, and bent down, moving Blaine out of the way. She looked over her shoulder at her son. "Call 911, Finn." And Finn did not hesitate.

"Right," he said, determined, and ran out of the room to go to the phone. Carole began putting her hands Burt's chest and neck, looking for a pulse, while Kurt just stood there, looking aghast and terrified, both of his hands over his mouth.

Blaine noticed this, got up off the floor, and went over to hug Kurt, who didn't return the gesture, but didn't move away either.

"It's going to be okay," Blaine whispered.

"He barely survived this last time. How can he go through it again," was all Kurt managed to say. At this, Blaine gripped his boyfriend tighter, and Kurt leaned into his shoulder, tearing his eyes away from the sight on the floor, where Carole was now performing CPR on Burt's limp body. Moving his hand up and down Kurt's back as soothingly as he could, Blaine muttered, over and over,

"I love you. It's okay. I love you. We'll get through this," because, truly, he didn't know what else to say.