The sun was up in the sky and the heavens were a sparkling blue. Kurt's own blue eyes were enjoying seeing the landscapes. The vast nature of Oregon was simply exquisite. The arid scenery as they were still near California revealed into rich and green pastures as they went more to the north, nearing Washington.

Kurt and Blaine drove for two entire days and Kurt could say, without a doubt, that he was having a blast. He didn't know if Blaine knew what he was doing to him, but he was a big factor in Kurt's happiness. He blessed a god he didn't believe in to have put Blaine on his path. He didn't know what he would do, or where he would have ended up if Blaine hadn't stopped and proposed to take him to Woodstock.

He didn't know what he would do after that, but that was the adventure, right? He was happy to follow Blaine in wherever he wanted to go, no questions asked. He was just grateful to get the chance to travel like he was and having a companion by doing so. As he ran away, it was nerve wracking to think that he was now alone; something he never was before.

He had a sheltered life and it showed today, Kurt thought.

Luckily for him, his companion was easy to talk to and even sing with when there was songs they both adored playing on the radio. Blaine had several 8 tracks in his car from marvellous singers and bands, such as Elvis Presley, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, The Who, Ravi Shankar, Eddie Cochran and many others. It surprised him at first that he had the same taste as Blaine in music and in many other aspects in life. In two days, Kurt had learnt more about him then he ever had with Quinn, his supposed future wife.

He was just so easy to talk to, he guessed. The topics were always light, with nothing too deep, yet fascinating. Blaine grew up in Ohio with a wealthy family, so he never missed much, yet he never was satisfied, he had said. Kurt grew up in California, yet he preferred to close his bedroom door and listen to music then to surf like the other boys his age, he retorted.

I spent all my schooling years in a private school, but I left the uniform and the hair gel for my own clothes and more freedom, Blaine had said. I was supposed to marry a girl back home, but girls are not my cup of tea, Kurt retorted.

I left when I was eighteen because my old life was suffocating me, Blaine had said. Mine just started to choke me, so I ran away, Kurt retorted.

''You're interesting, Tweety,'' Blaine had responded as Kurt told him why Oliver! deserved to win best picture for the Oscars of this year. ''Funny Girl deserved that nomination, hands down.'' He said, always looking straight ahead at the endless road.

''You're worse than Rachel on this!'' Kurt huffed and Blaine gave him a curious look as he clarified. ''My brother's fiancé. She's just obsessed with that movie, and yes, Barbra Streisand did an unbelievable job as Fanny Brice, but bottom line is; Oliver! was better,'' Blaine scoffed.

''A little boy finding shelter with a creep and a bunch of thieves was not Oscar worthy,'' Blaine said.

''Escaping the orphanage and finding his grandpa was very touching,'' Kurt shrugged. ''It showed the love of one member of the family to another and despite the grandpa's mistake when it came to his own daughter, it was remarkably well done to see him redeeming himself with his daughter's son,'' Blaine glanced at him, not expecting this explication.

''Fair enough,'' he conceded. On a green sigh on the side of the road, it was written Portland, 20 km. Blaine hummed and looked at Kurt. ''Oregon is known for its nature, but Portland is a good city to go,''

''That's where we're going?'' Blaine only nodded.

''Yeah. There's a commune just outside of Portland. We're going to sleep there,''

A commune? That could be interesting, Kurt thought. He knew what a commune was; a group of people living together, sharing everything together. They live against what society wanted from them; a solid job, a marriage, a house with a picket fence. Everything that the American dream proposed, they rejected it and with reasons.

That was exactly what Kurt needed.

It was well past the afternoon when they arrived in Portland. A fresh breeze passed through the open widows of the impala and Kurt could see the peak of the mountain hood that overlooked the entire city. Kurt could feel the thrill in him as they passed through the city. They didn't stop in it, though; they continued their journey until they arrived on the other side of the city, until they arrived in nature once again.

The sound of cars, people talking, and music playing were now forgotten as they rode on a rocky path. The mountain hood now looked more menacing as they approached the large dormant volcano.

''Have you ever been there?'' Kurt asked as he sensed that they were going to arrive anytime soon. Blaine nodded.

''Yeah; one time a couple of months ago. They will welcome you with open arms,'' Blaine said in a reassuring manner. Kurt smiled weakly and as they approached, Kurt could see a small clearing, surrounding by trees. Not far from where they were. He could see a barn not too far ahead of them.

When the car stopped, Kurt could faintly hear the music of an old guitar and it reminded him when his mother used to play with her old guitar and loved every acoustic song and always said that the most beautiful and intimate songs are played only in acoustic.

''We're here,'' Blaine announced with a hint of excitement in his voice. ''Now come on!'' Kurt followed Blaine with his eyes until the curly haired man waved to someone –Kurt still couldn't see who it was yet- and gestured for Kurt to step outside of the car. Taking a deep breath, Kurt got out and the faint music he had heard was louder.

A man stepped out of the barn and smiled warmly at Blaine. He ruffled his messy hair and stretched his limbs and signed loudly, like he just woke up from a deep sleep. His tattoos on his side and on his peck, shirtless, made Kurt gulped.

''Blaine,'' the man said in a sleepy voice and he went to hug the hazel-eyed man. The latter returned the hug with a big and goofy smile.

''Randy!'' Blaine said. The man, Randy, seemed to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, Kurt concluded as he saw his stubble and his confidence was just screaming ''I'm old enough, but not too old either,'' He had shoulder-length messy brown hair and his eyes were a clear brown. He didn't have a shirt on and Kurt couldn't help himself but looking at his well-defined body and his ripped-washed-up jeans hung low on his waist. That man was simply gorgeous.

''And who that might be?'' the gorgeous man said as he stepped closer to Kurt.

''It's Kurt,'' Blaine said. ''We drive together to go to Woodstock,'' Randy hummed in agreement and looked Kurt with sparkling eyes.

''You have a great place,'' Kurt said as he looked around. Randy clapped his hands together.

''I'm glad you like it,'' he said. ''Come here,'' he approached Kurt and engulfed the younger man in a warm hug. ''Blaine's friends are my friends,'' the hug surprised him greatly but he was just relief to see people who accept him on short notice. ''You're going to stay for a while?'' Randy asked Blaine.

''Yeah,'' he said. ''For a couple of days,'' Randy only nodded.

''You can stay as long as you want, Blaine. You too, Kurt. You're family, now.'' He gave Kurt a pleasant smile and placed a rough hand in the small of his back to guide him to the barn. He still could hear faint music and as he looked to a small clearing near the barn, he could see people sitting on the grass with a guy playing the guitar.

The barn was spacious and bright. It didn't look like a barn once you stepped inside. It looked well lived in; it was a bit in shambles to say the truth, but Kurt liked it. He followed Randy and Blaine –who were deep in a conversation- up the stairs. The blue eyed man jumped a little when he saw a naked woman stepping outside of the bathroom. Wide eyed, he watched her as she gave him a small smile before stepping inside a dark room; the two men before him didn't seem to be perturbed by what Kurt just witnessed.

''You guys can sleep here,'' Randy declared as he showed them the room. Blaine seemed comfortable enough; he put his bag on the ground and Randy was busy picking up empty beer bottles off the ground. What Kurt noticed the most, was that the old wood that makes the walls were all freshly painted –Kurt could smell it- but it had character to it. Some walls had drawings on them, some had writings and the colors were always bright, like a deep red, yellow, and blue and green. A lot of green. He never saw so many colors being put together on a wall.

''We had been on the road for so long, I'll go freshen up,'' Blaine declared. ''There's a bathroom downstairs, too,''

''Okay. I'll go,'' Kurt said, trying to sound nonchalant, but it was still nerve wracking for him to be in a stranger's home. Blaine smiled at him and before he left, he said: ''Stop worrying. Enjoy your life,'' It did nothing to help him feel better, though.

-X-

A few minutes later, Blaine came back into the bedroom. Kurt wasn't there, but his bag was. Blaine ignored it, believing that it wasn't his business to go and be the curious man that he always had been. He was in only a pair of jeans and as he went to retrieve a T-shirt from his own bag next to the bed, he noticed photographed sticking outside of Kurt's bag.

Now very curious, he took them out of the bag. It's only pictures, he thought. What harm would it do to look at them? On one of the photographs, a beautiful woman was sitting on a veranda with a small boy perched on her lap. With the white and black colored picture, Blaine could see the skin of both people –so identical- almost as pale as snow. In real life, he assumed that the skin was fair and the hair was pale, maybe a brownish color, Blaine thought.

''This is my mom and I,'' a small voice said behind him. Blaine turned around quickly, almost dropping the photos. He took a shaky breath, and Kurt could conclude that it was because he was nervous to get caught; but no. Blaine was never nervous, but Kurt was a sight to behold. His wet hair was sticking in all different directions and the hot water made his cheeks a rosy hue. He really had a boyish complexion, Blaine thought.

''I'm sorry,'' he only said. ''Those pictures were sticking out and….''

''It's alright,'' Kurt said, playing with the hem if his white t-shirt. He had left all of his beautiful clothing at home; preferring to travel as light as possible and blend in as much as possible. ''I don't have a treasure hidden in here,'' he joked. He approached Blaine and he could see the difference from before. Blaine had shaven his face and while Kurt appreciated the stubble, the fresh cut and the aroma that fallowed it gave him a lost memory of home; where every man was clean, everywhere it smelled like perfume and freshness. His dark hair was also wet and water dripped from the end of his curls to drop on his shoulders and his naked chest. He was well built, Kurt noted as he noticed muscles flexing under his tan skin.

He took his eyes off of his body and looked at Blaine. ''My mom died when I was very young,'' he said. ''In the evenings, she always sat on the veranda and played a few songs with her guitar. Sometimes the neighbors complained about the music, but I didn't. I loved her playing… I guess they didn't like the songs,'' he said with a small smile. Blaine smiled back, but sadly this time. He ran away from home, but he couldn't imagine what it would be like to really lose one parent. You must feel more vulnerable.

''And…?'' Blaine asked as he pointed to another picture. The smile Kurt gave him was brighter. On the picture, Blaine could see a tall man and a petite brunet.

''This is my brother Finn, and his fiancée and my friend, Rachel,'' his smile faltered a little and his blue eyes lost their sparkles. ''We didn't part on good terms. They didn't want me to leave and it led to a fight,'' he said sadly.

''They will understand,'' Blaine said, trying to cheer him up. ''You will be back soon enough, right? They can't stay mad at you,'' Kurt looked at Blaine, searching for something, anything.

''I'm not sure if I ever want to go back,'' he murmured. Before Blaine could say anything else, a small knock interrupted their small conversation and Randy stood tall and proud in the door frame.

''There's a fire every evening'' he began to talk when he had the attention of the two in the room, ''so you're welcome to join us,'' Blaine nodded and Kurt offered him a weak small before he disappeared down the stairs, minding his own business that Kurt didn't have a clue what it was he was doing all day.

''You know him for how long?'' Kurt asked as he detached his eyes from the door. Blaine finally retrieved a t-shirt from his bag and put in on himself.

''For a couple of years,'' he said. ''When I left home at the age of 18, I moved from town to town. It took me weeks before I arrived in Oregon and once I did, I just ended up here. It was my first time I was living in a commune, but I was instantly welcomed. No matter where I come from or my background, they accepted me. And so I kind of adopted this lifestyle. There was no responsibility, no rules. I felt more home here that I've ever been for a long time with my own family.''

He sat on the bed and put his combat boots and Kurt didn't realize he had those in the car and it fits him perfectly.

''I've lived here for six months, and then I just wanted to go see other places. But I always come back a few times to spend a couple of days when I'm in the state.'' He stood up and smiled warmly at Kurt. ''Come on,'' he said. ''I spend the last few days stuck in a car, I need to move a little,''

Kurt nodded and placed the pictures in his bag and put it under the bed –a habit he took when he traveled- and his past and memories now forgotten for a few hours, hidden under a bed.

-X-

It was already evening when Kurt and Blaine decided to go outside. Kurt's stomach started to rubble and he gave Blaine a sheepish smile. Blaine chuckled.

''Don't worry. Food is always in abundance,'' He led Kurt to the others; he could count twenty-something people, all chatting and eating. A soft melody penetrated the silent night; a man sitting on a bench was playing with an old guitar. His face was mostly hidden behind long hair and big sunglasses. Kurt could never understand, for the life of him, why people kept wearing sunglasses when the night falls. He always presumed it was a trend and on Blaine, it was fabulous but it just looks stupid on other people.

Two girls were sitting on the ground and the red haired one was doing breads to the long blond hair of the other girl. They gave him a soft smile when he passed them. When Blaine gave him a plate full with fresh meat, vegetables from a small garden they had in the commune and roast potatoes, with a bottle of beer, he led him to a seclude area where they still could be seen by the others and have the warmth of the fire, but they still could have their personal conversation without anyone listening.

In the distance, Kurt could hear a faint sound of a crying baby and the soothing voice of a mother. It wasn't unusual to see babies and young kids in a commune. It was frown upon to use birth control in a commune and even prohibited to get an abortion. Bearing a baby was seen as a gift, something special. No matter how young or old you are, having a baby was a symbol of freedom and beauty. Kurt knew, just by looking at her, that the mother was really young. Maybe his age, 19, or even younger. But watching her with the baby and what he presumed to be the father, both very proud, and happy, he knew that where he came from, birth control was also frown upon, but bearing a baby as a teenager or out of wedlock was not accepted.

''It's Joe and Mary,'' Blaine said as he saw what Kurt was looking at. ''When she got pregnant, she got kicked out of her house. Her and her boyfriend left and ended up here. They thought they will just wait to give birth, and leave with the baby, but now, little Josephine is going to be 2 in a month. I think they found their family, here, so they stayed.'' He took a big bite of his sausage and continued talking. ''Don't be surprise to see little kids running around tomorrow morning,''

Kurt ate his potatoes slowly while looking in the distance; he looked at Joe and Mary, then to the two girls he saw earlier, the guy playing the guitar and others were eating or dancing to the rhythm of the melody. Everything seemed so easy that Kurt had a hard time to grasp the concept of a group of people who decided to be a big family because they loved each other enough. That concept was foreign to him; it was like letting go of society and just be.

It was exhilarating.

''I'm going to the bathroom,'' he informed Blaine and placed his plate in his empty spot. Blaine nodded and watched his new friend retreat, gulping the remaining of his beer.

As Kurt made his way inside the building, he stopped in his track when he heard voices coming from behind the bushes near the barn. Frowning and wondering what people were doing behind it instead of joining the rest of the people around the fire, he came closer and what he heard as voices were actually moans. Eyes wide, Kurt had just the time to see a man and a woman, naked, and the sound of slapping skin could be heard very strongly for Kurt's ears. He stepped back quickly and made a move to turn around and leave the lover birds alone, but he bumped into someone.

''You enjoy the view?'' a man asked and Kurt could hear the distinct accent in his voice. He had sandy hair with a strong jaw and broad shoulders. The mischievous look in his brown eyes showed Kurt that he wasn't serious; he was just teasing, but he was still furiously blushing.

''They have sex,'' he bluntly said to a now laughing man.

''Yes, indeed.'' His laughter stopped and he looked at the poor lost boy. ''It's better make love then make wars,'' he explained. Kurt nodded slowly and stepped back a little bit more to get as far away from the couple on the grass as possible. The moans tent to be loud. Oh, he wasn't a prude. He had his own sex experiences, but it never was outdoors.

''I guess you're right,'' he said quickly and breathlessly. He eyed the barn, wanting to go in and just disappear and forget what he just saw. He shouldn't be surprised, though. He knew he was walking in a totally new world where love is free and sex should be something to celebrate and not condemn. This couple understood that, but for Kurt, a boy newly entered into adulthood and living in Bel Air for all his life, it was just so new to him, almost surreal that it made him flustered.

''You're Kurt, right?'' the man asked with curious eyes. Kurt couldn't escape now, even if his bladder was ready to explode. ''You came in earlier with Blaine,''

''Yeah!'' Kurt said, smiling up at him. ''He gives me a ride to go to Woodstock.''

''Oh, really?'' the man explained. By the sheer excitement and joy the man provided, Kurt found himself relaxing and just enjoyed his time socializing with other people in the commune. The quiet moans were now just a distant sound in Kurt's ears as he listened to the man.

''I will be there, too!'' he exclaimed. ''Where are you from?'' he asked, not even a pause between the two sentences.

''Bel Air, California,'' the man whistled in appreciation. ''And you are…''

Unfortunately, his question was drowned by three people passing by and summoning the man to join them in whatever they were doing.

''I'll see you later,'' he said to Kurt as he was dragged away. ''Hopefully!'' he shouted.

When Kurt came back, he saw Blaine near the fire with a guitar. He didn't know he could play and it was a great surprise indeed. Blaine gave him a smile and began to sing as people gathering around him were swaying to the sound of the music and his deep and rich voice; he had a lovely voice, he noted.

''You found the bathroom alright?'' Blaine asked a few minutes later when he wasn't playing anymore. Kurt jumped; he was deep in thoughts. ''Penny for your thoughts?''

''I've seen people having sex outdoors,'' he didn't know why he began a conversation by saying it, but he just did. And it had the same reaction. Blaine chuckled softly; way more quietly then the man before who had laugh loudly.

''Get used to it, Tweety,'' he said. ''Where we're going, people makes love,''

''Not the war, I know,'' Kurt said with a smile. ''I didn't know you play!'' he said to change the subject. Blaine smiled bashfully at him.

''We only know each other since a couple of days. Of course you don't know.'' Blaine chuckled. ''There's a lot of things you don't know about me, ,'' he said in a low voice, inches away from Kurt's face and for a moment, a tiny, tiny moment, Kurt wondered if he was actually flirting with him. Wait, really? That's a flirty line right there! He thought. But if it was the case, what's the harm in it anyways? Two people fucked in the woods, two people could certainly give each other flirty comebacks.

Before he had the courage to say a witty remark, like I can't wait to discover them, Kurt noticed the man he was talking to earlier who was talking with other people. He nodded towards the man.

''Who is he?'' he asked Blaine. The latter turned his head to see the object if Kurt's attention.

''Adam Crawford. He moved from England a couple of years ago,'' he said. ''Didn't talk to him that much, but he's a nice guy. Why?'' Kurt shrugged.

''Just wanted to know,'' he said, blushing. To Blaine's arching eyebrow, he added: ''We talked earlier. After I found some people enjoy getting dirty for the simple pleasure of having sex in the bushes. When I think about it, it is kind of awkward to meet someone in such circumstances,'' The horror look on Kurt's face made Blaine laugh so loud that Kurt couldn't believe his luck to be in such a place, free in what you believe, what you love and what you hate. It was going to be a long, but tremendous journey.

Kurt joined Blaine in his laughter.