Ahhhhhh, another long wait. I've resigned myself to just having long waits between chapters, because I'm a terrible person.
Okay, ladies and gentlemen. This is it. This is the last chapter. The final frontier. The End. And it's been quite a ride, especially since I never finish anything. This is my first fic that's had any sort of success and it's all cause of you lovely people. So thank you for encouraging me and making me want to write. I started this for the hell of it and you guys made me finish it. Thank you thank you thank you. You're all wonderful and excellent, and I hope you'll stick around, even though my posting schedule is so erratic it would make a squirrel have a heart attack. :)
Here we go.
Disclaimer: I own everything. Glee, the characters, the actors, and all the ideas. It's all mine. Also I'm kidding.
Oh, shit.
Kurt's heart flew into his throat, his stomach twisting painfully. Blaine had changed so much, even in just a few months. His eyes were darker, and empty of all emotion. Kurt thought he'd seen a flicker when Blaine had first recognized him, but it was gone now. There were dark circles under his eyes, too, like he hadn't slept once these past months. He hadn't shaved in a while, and his face was scruffy and dirty. He looked more muscular now, if that was possible, his plaid overshirt clinging to his thick torso. He was intimidating, and Kurt knew that he had become someone to reckon with. Was he Blaine anymore?
"You haven't changed," Blaine said quietly. Kurt blinked, forcing himself to breathe.
"You have."
Blaine looked down, silent. Just as he was about to open his mouth and try to say something, a blond head poked around the corner.
"Blaine," Riker hissed. "What the hell are you doing? Let's go."
Blaine closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows crinkling in frustration. "I'm coming." Riker raised his eyebrows, beckoning frantically.
"Come on, then!" Blaine held up his hand, flashing a glare at Riker.
"Stand aside," Blaine said sharply, turning his glare on Kurt. Kurt took a step back.
"W-what?"
"Stand aside," Blaine repeated harshly.
"I..." Blaine didn't wait. He placed a hand on Kurt's shoulder and shoved him roughly to the side of the alley.
"Don't follow me," he snarled, whirling around and following Riker around the back side of the bank.
"Blaine!" Kurt cried desperately after him. The other man didn't turn around.
Kurt sank to the ground against the wall and began to sob.
Blaine's chest was tight as he went to join the others behind the bank. His breathing was shaky and uneven, and he felt vaguely nauseated. All he could hear was Kurt's anguished cry in his ears, and the echoes of his sobs. He'd had to do it, though. He'd finally done it. He'd gotten over Kurt. He'd stopped dreaming about him, he'd stopped thinking about him, he'd stopped crying pathetically every night because it hurt him so much. He'd encased his heart in stone, barring out friendships and affection and sympathy and it was working for him. He was practically the leader of the Warblers. He'd come so far, and now, seeing Kurt once, just seeing him, and his heart was throbbing, cracking in his chest. He couldn't think about it anymore. He wouldn't make it if he did.
There was just no point. They couldn't be anything, it wasn't possible. And he had come to terms with that. It was time Kurt did too.
He put it from his mind and focused on the plan. So far, everything was going smoothly. The guards were overtaken easily and quietly, one by one. The Warblers slipped into the guards' uniforms and tied them up in their underwear, still out cold. Silently they fell into their roles as guards, cramming into the carriage and stationing themselves in their proper places. Wes and Blaine took the reins, and they were off. Quickly and silently they flew through the town. No one stopped them. No one questioned them. No one even looked at them twice. They crossed the border of the little town without even a hint of an issue.
Part one of the plan was complete.
Kurt was a mess when he arrived at Mercedes's house. His eyes were red, leftover tears drying on his face. His clothes were dirty where he'd sat in the dust and he knew his hair was absolutely ridiculous. But he couldn't bring himself to care. About anything. He felt his heart breaking all over again, and he knew he'd held out on that last hope, that last tiny bit of hope fluttering in his chest, that he and Blaine would meet again and fall into each other's arms and everything would be perfect again. But that hadn't happened. Blaine had barely looked at him. It was like they'd never known each other. Like they'd never been anything to each other, when really, they'd been everything. Or so Kurt thought. It was looking more like he'd been right when he'd thought Blaine was using him. It was clear to him now. He and Blaine were nothing, and that was all they'd ever be.
"Kurt!" Mercedes cried worriedly when she opened the door. She grabbed his face in both hands and looked into his eyes. "Hon, what's wrong?"
"It's-I-" Kurt couldn't form sentences. He felt himself beginning to cry again. "I-Blaine."
"Who's Blaine?" Mercedes asked gently. "Is he someone from here? Did he-" She stopped. That name sounded so familiar. Something clicked in her head, then. "Blaine?" she repeated. "Warbler Blaine? I-Kidnapped-You-And-I-Do-Horrible-Things-Blaine?"
Kurt choked out another sob, nodding. Mercedes felt her face turning red with anger. "Is he here? What did he do?" Her eyes widened, her expression darkening. "Did he-did he hurt you?"
"No!" Kurt gasped. "At least...not like that. Not...not what you think. He would never-" he paused. He didn't really know Blaine anymore. He buried his face in Mercedes's shoulder as another wave of tears overtook him. She held him, leading him carefully to her room and sitting him down on the bed.
"Okay, okay, shhh. Start at the beginning."
The Jones's had planned quite well for moving their chest. There were three checkpoints along the way at which the carriage must stop, or an alarm would be set off. The Warblers wouldn't be present at any, allowing all hell to effectively break loose. They didn't have time for checkpoints. They would be too busy stealing the key for the chest and happily retiring forever. Of course, the plan to steal the key wasn't fool-proof. There was a lot of dealing with people involved, and people were often unpredictable, especially when they had something incredibly valuable they needed to protect. You never knew what people would do to save things that were important to them. And the Jones's definitely had something worth protecting in that chest.
Blaine didn't want to go back. He was afraid he'd see Kurt, and he didn't know if he could handle that. Everything had to go perfectly, and if Kurt was there, it would ruin everything. Blaine didn't know what he'd do if Kurt got involved in the danger. All he did know is that he couldn't watch Kurt get hurt. He couldn't. Even if they could never be together, he'd always protect Kurt. That's what he was doing by distancing himself from him, right? He was protecting Kurt from himself. This was better for both of them. Right?
Mercedes listened to Kurt's story. From beginning to end. And she didn't judge him, she didn't yell at him, and she didn't scold him for falling so hard and so quickly for someone, let alone someone who committed crimes and kidnapped people. Even though the Warblers had been trying to steal something very important to her family for months now, she listened. And she understood. She'd seen Blaine, too. She'd been there, and she'd noticed that he seemed different than the others. But the Blaine Kurt was describing to her now, the one that had shoved him aside like he meant nothing, that sounded more like a Warbler. She let Kurt cry until he couldn't anymore. When he was quiet, she spoke.
"Kurt. Sweetie. I know you don't want to hear this, and I know it's too soon and the hurt is too fresh, but I just wanna tell you somethin. You need to move on, and I know you know that, but I just want you to hear it. You don't deserve that kind of treatment. From anyone, no matter how much they mean to you. And you need to forget about him and forget that he ever meant anything to you because he's trash and the absolute scum of the earth. He's nothing, and you're amazing. You deserve so much more. Okay?" She brushed the last tear off his face as he nodded. "Do you want to stay here tonight?" Kurt nodded again.
"I told my parents I was going to, anyway," he said softly, wiping at his red eyes. "Thank you for not disowning me."
"Baby, I'll never disown you, not if you fall in love with a million Warblers."
Kurt laughed. It was a small laugh, but it was a start. "I hope not."
She planted a kiss on his forehead. "Me too. Come on, I'll make you some tea."
"I'm sorry we didn't get to go out."
"Oh, please. We can go out any night. We'll just have a girls' night in instead."
Kurt smiled a little. Things looked bleak now, but if he thought about it, Blaine was just a boy. A stupid boy, who'd taken his heart and smashed it in two. He wouldn't take that kind of treatment. He was better than that. Kurt held his head up high and followed Mercedes to the kitchen, deciding right then and there that no matter how he felt, dammit, he was going to have fun tonight.
Mercedes put a pot of water on the stove and began to heat it up. Something occurred to her suddenly, and she turned.
"Kurt?"
"Mm-hmm?"
"Why were the Warblers here in the first place?"
Kurt felt his heart stop. He and Mercedes exchanged a look of horror.
"The chest."
Outside the town, ten of the Warblers from the crew that hijacked the carriage continued on with it, taking it back to the barn where they had been ordered to guard it with their lives. Meanwhile, twenty other Warblers met up with Blaine, Wes, David, Jeff, Nick, and Thad and made their way back into town. They split up, ducking behind buildings and sneaking through alleyways. Some even hopped roofs. Silently, they surrounded the Jones' residence, blocking all methods of escape.
"Remember," Blaine hissed, "Jones never lets the key off his person. We have to find him. If you meet anyone else, knock them out, tie them up, whatever, just don't kill anyone and don't take any hostages. Keep them quiet. Got it?"
There was a chorus of nods.
"Good. Go." Blaine went to work picking the front door lock, while Wes did the same to the back door. The others entered from the windows. The lock clicked under Blaine's practiced hands and he peered through the letterbox to make sure the coast was clear before entering. He listened. There were footsteps upstairs, and voices in the kitchen. The voice in the kitchen sounded distinctly female; he made his way to the stairs first. They weren't in view of the kitchen, easily accessible from where he was. He allowed himself a grim smile. This was almost too easy. There were three of them and twenty Warblers. They didn't stand a chance.
Behind the stairs, Wes had unlocked the back door and slipped around the side to follow Blaine. David, Jeff and Nick joined them. Blaine kept low, looking up the stairs ahead. There was a hallway, and five different doors. Only one was closed. They approached it, forcing themselves not to barge in and grab the inhabitants of the room with not a single thought to the other people in the house. Blaine put his hand on the doorknob and turned around, placing a finger over his lips to silence the others. He began to turn it.
Someone screamed.
Mercedes had had her back to the room, facing the stove. She had just been planning with Kurt, deciding she must go to her father immediately and tell him about the Warblers' suspicious presence in the town. Kurt hadn't said anything since she'd turned around, which was very unlike him.
"Kurt?" she'd asked. She turned, then, to find the room suddenly filled with at least ten Warblers, one of which had pinned Kurt's arms to his sides and clapped a large, sweaty hand over his mouth. She gasped, and just before another ran up to cover her mouth she managed to scream.
They're here for the key.
She and Kurt struggled frantically, but they each had two or three Warblers attached to them and there was no way they were strong enough to fight that. The stairs creaked, then, straining under the sudden weight of the five Warblers sprinting down the stairs. The flew into the kitchen, the one in the lead red-faced and curly-haired, his hazel eyes blazing with fury.
"What the hell is going on here?" he thundered. His gaze swept around the room, landing on Kurt. The fire instantly left his eyes. "Kurt? What're you-"
He was cut off by a man and his wife entering the room.
"Mercedes? Sweetheart, what's-" Mrs. Jones let out a shriek at the sight of all the men in her home. She and her husband were instantly captured and restrained. They struggled as well, but like Mercedes and Kurt, they were trapped. Blaine turned away from Kurt to face the other Warblers.
"I said to keep them quiet, you idiots. What were you thinking?" He turned slowly in a circle, fixing each of them with an icy glare. He gestured at Mr. Jones. "Get the key. Someone could have heard by now."
One of the Warblers holding him patted the man's pockets and looked through every crevice of his jacket. "It's not here."
Blaine rolled his eyes and stalked over. "I'll do it myself." It was on a cord around the man's neck; Blaine yanked, hard, and it snapped. Mr. Jones grunted, resuming his attempts to free himself.
"Tie them up. We're leaving."
"What about these two?" A Warbler asked, nodding at Mercedes and Kurt. Blaine noticed Kurt staring at him and felt his heart twist at the look of pure hatred he'd directed at him.
"Them too," he said, fighting to keep his voice from faltering. The Warblers forced each of their charges into a chair, tying their hands tightly with the rope they'd brought specifically for this purpose. The Jones's and Kurt fought with them, writhing and attempting to scream for help all the while. But the Warblers were professionals. No one escaped, and no one had time to scream before another Warbler had gagged them. Blaine looked away so he wouldn't have to watch them tie Kurt up; as he did, he noticed Wes nodding at Thad. Thad nodded back and left, slipping out the back door. Blaine frowned.
"What was that?" he whispered to Wes.
"Nothing, all part of the plan," Wes whispered back. Before Blaine could answer, there was a knock at the door.
"Jones? Everything okay in there? Heard a scream," called a voice. Kurt knew it to be Finn, and his eyes widened hopefully before he could stop himself. Blaine saw, and turned to face Wes.
"It's the sheriff. We've got to go."
"First things first," Wes said as Thad returned, carrying a burlap sack, filled with smaller sacks. "Warblers, take these and drop them around the house as you leave." Warblers began to step forward.
"What are those?" Blaine hissed, panic rising in his throat. This was not all part of the plan.
Wes gave him a hard look. "Gunpowder."
"What?"
"Warblers. You know what gunpowder does best, don't you?"
They all stared at him, their mouths falling open.
"It burns."
They were frozen. The Warblers didn't do this. They didn't kill.
The hostages eyes widened in horror.
"DO IT!" Wes roared. He snatched a bag out of Thad's hand and ripped it open, spilling it onto the floor. He lit a match and dropped it at his feet. Within seconds, a sea of fire began to spread from his feet to the rest of the Warblers standing nearby. They jumped back. "If you aren't with us, you're one of THEM." Several Warblers followed Wes's lead, running to pour gunpowder in the other rooms. A few others stood stock still, torn between the only family they had and murder.
"WES, THIS ISN'T PART OF THE PLAN!" Blaine screamed.
"It is now," Wes shrieked wildly. "Stay here if you want." He reached out, ripping the key out of Blaine's hands. "This is all I need." He whirled around and ran, the back door slamming against the frame as he flung it open. The knocking on the door had turned into full-fledged banging as the sheriff heard the commotion inside and frantically tried to reach the trapped family. Blaine stood, unmoving, in the middle of the flames.
"Blaine!" David yelled. "What do we do?"
Blaine shook his head, clearing it. His eyes locked on Kurt, on his frozen, fearful face, and he made his decision.
"You have to make a choice, David. You're either with me or with Wes." He strode forward, yanking out his knife and working on the knots that tied Kurt. "And I'm not going to let them die."
David nodded, dodging the spreading fire to help Mercedes. Jeff and Nick, the only other two still left, began to work on Mr. and Mrs. Jones. Smoke began to fill the room, and Blaine crouched to stay out of it as long as possible.
"Hold your breath!" he yelled. They all did, as long as they could, but the knots were tight and the fire was spreading quickly. One by one, the hostages' heads lolled forward as they fainted. Blaine crouched even lower, knowing they were next if they stayed much longer. It was hot, almost too hot for him to bear. The floor was burning his knees through his jeans and sweat poured off his entire body, soaking him head to toe.
"Come on, Blaine!" he vaguely registered the other Warblers screaming at him as they freed the others and ran. Still, he kept at it. Kurt wasn't going to die because of him. No one was going to die because of him.
Finally, finally, the knots fell open, the ropes tumbled off, and Kurt sagged forward into Blaine's arms. He lifted the boy over his shoulder and ran. He ignored the fire melting his shoes and burning his shirt. He ignored the unbearable pain in his knees and the fire in his lungs from holding his breath. He ignored the yelling of the sheriff as he burst through the front door. All he could see was Kurt. He ripped the gag off Kurt's face and leaned his to the other boy's mouth, listening for his shallow breathing. It was there, and he nearly passed out from the relief he felt at this realization. He barely noticed David and the others reviving the Jones's next to him, and the sheriff screaming at them to stand up, to release their hostages. He just held Kurt tighter, rocking his thin body gently, pressing his lips to the top of his head. He didn't notice the tears rolling down his cheeks until a soft, slender hand reached up to brush them off.
"Blaine?" Kurt croaked. Blaine jerked back in surprise, staring into Kurt's perfect blue eyes. "Blaine, why are you-?" he stopped, his body shaking with a fit of coughing. Blaine's heart twisted at the sound. He held Kurt closer, hushing him.
"Shhh. Don't talk. You're okay," he whispered shakily.
"Blaine," Kurt whispered hoarsely anyway. "You saved me?" He had to know.
Blaine nodded, the tears falling harder. "I had to."
Kurt smiled weakly. "That's the thing, though. You didn't." Blaine's answer seemed to have satisfied him, and he closed his eyes and nuzzled closer to the Warbler's chest. Blaine clung to him, clutching at the other boy like Kurt had saved him and not the other way around.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I love you, I love you so much."
Finn had tried to get Blaine to let go of his brother, but something stopped him after the first few tries. Something in the way the other boy held Kurt so tightly, the way he kissed his forehead and whispered things to him like they were...lovers or something. By now, a crowd had gathered, watching the group of Warblers tend to the family they'd saved. Their eyes were drawn to one in particular, a certain curly-haired boy holding another chestnut-haired boy, looking at him like he was the world.
Wes and the Warblers that had followed him arrived at the shed late afternoon, meeting the other Warblers there. Wes knelt in front of the chest, touching the wood like it was an old friend he'd been missing, caressing.
"Where's Blaine?" one of the Warblers asked. Wes's eyes never left the chest.
"He's gone. Betrayed us."
"You're lying!" someone yelled suddenly. It was Thad, an accusing finger pointed right at Wes. Wes glanced up. "Blaine stayed behind to save the family that you were going to kill!"
There were a few disapproving mutters.
"I had to!" Wes growled. "This was the only way to get what we've wanted. You wanted it too, Thad, and I don't see you staying behind to save some family that doesn't even matter. They're nothing. And if you could just see that, perhaps you'd appreciate what we have now." He placed a hand on the chest. "We got what we wanted all along, Thad. Why are you worrying?"
"Blaine and Jeff and Nick and David are all Warblers, Wes. Whether you say they are or not, they're always Warblers. And you left them to die. That's not what Warblers do."
"Thad. The chest." Wes was grasping, his hands closing around air as his argument began to show its weakness. The other Warblers were exchanging looks, realizing that Wes had nearly committed murder, and they were part of it. Guilty by association.
"Somebody grab him!" a Warbler screamed. Three ran forward, grabbing his arms and pinning them behind his back. He struggled, yelling.
"I'm your leader! I made the Warblers what they are! You can't do this!" Thad stepped forward.
"Wes, you made the Warblers murderers, and that isn't what we're about. This group was born from desperation, and we can't be desperate anymore." He looked up. "All of you. Listen. The Warblers can't be thieves and ruffians anymore. Blaine and the others showed us something today, and that's that we can do good. I think it's time the Warblers hung up the chest chasing and tried to actually make something of themselves."
A few rolled their eyes. "Thad, a Warbler by any other name is still a thief," Wes said. He'd stopped struggling and was oddly calm. "Stop these delusions of grandeur. You can't do anything, none of us can. What we do is steal. And that's all we're good for. Get used to it. Now let me go, so I can open the chest."
"No, Wes. Don't do this. We can change."
"Leave, then, if you're so keen,"Wes hissed impatiently. "I'm tired of you and your change."
Thad lifted his chin and nodded once, hard. "Fine. Who's with me?" There was a moment's hesitation, then a third of the Warblers stepped nervously forward. There was a chorus of yelling and booing.
"All of you, then?" Wes said quietly. "After all I did for you?"
Thad turned on his heel and walked out, the others following.
"You'll never be a Warbler again, you hear me? Never!" he yelled after them. Not a single one looked back. Wes turned back to the chest.
"Finally," he sighed. "Now that we've weeded out the bad eggs. Let's open this, shall we?"
The other Warblers circled around curiously; they would finally, finally, discover what was in the chest.
"Feast your eyes, gentlemen...on our future." With a flourish, Wes unlocked the chest and threw the lid open.
Inside...there was only a slip of paper. A note. Wes lifted it slowly, disbelievingly, out of the chest.
"What's it say?"
"It's a fake."
Kurt opened his eyes to a sea of curly hair. It could only belong to one person, kneeling by his bed.
"Blaine?" he croaked. His voice was hoarse, and talking grated at his throat. The curly head shot up, revealing hazel eyes red with crying and lack of sleep. The dark circles under his eyes were even darker. He looked awful. And...sad. Kurt hated to see those eyes so sad.
"Kurt?" Blaine reached out, his hand stroking the side of Kurt's face. "How do you feel?"
Kurt laughed, which hurt. "Horrible." Blaine leaned his forehead on Kurt's, threading one hand into his hair.
"I'm so sorry."
"It's okay."
"No...for everything. I'm sorry I yelled at you, I'm sorry I was terrible to you, I'm sorry I tried to forget you and that you almost died because of me. I'm sorry that I hurt you, and I'm sorry that I couldn't be what you needed." Tears started falling again; they had been all night long, since he'd carried Kurt up to his room and Finn had left them alone. He barely remembered Finn even existing. Why wasn't he in jail? Why had Finn let him stay? "I'm sorry I'm not the man you deserve."
A soft hand fluttered against his cheek. "Blaine. Shh." A thumb brushed away his tears. "Blaine, you're more than I deserve. You're more than I ever expected to have."
"I love you," Blaine whispered. "I'm so sorry."
"Shhh," Kurt hushed him again. "I love you too."
They stayed like that for a few moments, drinking in each other's company. Blaine's tears subsided and were replaced with soft sighs and the occasional brush of gentle fingers against skin.
"Blaine..." Kurt said softly. Blaine hummed in response. "I have to ask...why?"
"Why what?"
"Why...everything? Why did you try to forget? Why did you become the leader of the Warblers? Why did you keep stealing?"
Blaine closed his eyes, thinking. Composing himself. "I...It...It was too hard to remember. It hurt too much, and I wasn't strong enough to keep going. I just...shut myself off. And everything just spiraled from there. I didn't care about anything anymore. I just followed what I knew we had to do. I started planning; it distracted me. I couldn't think about you. I couldn't love you from so far away. It...I thought it was what was best. I didn't think there was any hope for us. There was no point in me remembering."
"And...now?" Kurt whispered.
"Now...now I think I'll do anything to be able to stay with you." Blaine pressed his lips softly to Kurt's, leaning into his touch. "Now, I'm just...so sorry for everything. I want to start over. I want...I want you. Forever."
Kurt smiled, his eyes falling shut in relief and bliss. "I'll see what I can do."
Finn was a fair sheriff. He'd known the second those Warblers had stayed behind, risked their lives to save that family, that there was some good in them. He didn't arrest them. He decided to give them a choice. They could leave, return to their criminal life and risk being caught. Or, they could stay, and Finn would help set them up with jobs here and help clear their names. The sheriff's office, for example, always needed extra hands. It wouldn't be easy after all the things they'd done, but with hard work and time, anything was possible. Consider it their community service, he told them. If they put one toe out of line, however, it was straight to jail for them. No second chances. This was their second chance. A reform program, one might say.
It was a simple choice. Finn spoke with Mayor Figgins and set them up with temporary rooms at the inn untill they could afford to rent a place. Most didn't agree with Finn's generosity, and it was hard, in the beginning, to get people to trust them. But they had the Jones's on their side, and the Jones's were a fairly influential family in the town. It didn't take long for the people of McKinley to get used to them, even befriend them.
The empty chest, the ones the Warblers had stolen, was a decoy. The Jones's had known the second they realized the Warblers were stealing again that they needed to prepare extra precautions. They set up the decoy, spread rumors as if they were true. The checkpoints, the destination of the chest, everything was real...except the actual chest. The real chest was placed inside a larger, less elegant one and thrown almost carelessly on the back of a supply wagon later that day. A diamond in the rough. The key would work on both, ensuring that the Warblers didn't return until after they discovered the fake chest. They would be back, the Jones's knew. But they had fewer people now, and their best schemer was now on the opposite side. They were prepared.
As for the other Warblers, the ones who were neither entirely good nor entirely bad, they lay low for several months. Gradually, they began to reveal themselves, slowly doing good for people. Anonymously at first, then more obviously. Soon it became almost normal to find a Warbler or two swooping in, perhaps to solve something as small as a bar fight, or something as big as a fire. They appeared out of seemingly nowhere, and never asked for any compensation. They lived off their leftover stolen goods, and when those ran out, they did odd jobs under fake names and identities. Their faces were less well-known; the public mostly knew Wes and Blaine from the papers and wanted posters. Eventually, their good deeds earned them money, and they began to insinuate themselves into public life.
"Kurt," Blaine whispered. He kissed his lover's eyelids, softly, until they fluttered open. He smiled. "You promised you'd stay awake."
"I guess I didn't," Kurt whispered back, grinning and stretching. "You're late."
"Had to wait till Finn went to bed. Wouldn't want him to see me sneaking in your window like some sort of thief." He winked, slipping out of his shirt and joining Kurt under the sheets.
"We can't keep doing this, you know," Kurt yawned noncommittally. "Eventually we'll get caught."
Blaine nuzzled at his neck, wrapping Kurt up in his arms. "I'll tell them it was an accident."
Kurt closed his eyes, his eyelashes brushing Blaine's bare chest. "You should just stay the whole night. Let them catch us."
"That would just take all the fun out of this, wouldn't it, now?" he murmured, his lips brushing Kurt's. Kurt trailed a hand down Blaine's chest, feeling the muscles jump under his touch.
"Please, this will always be fun," he whispered, rolling on top of Blaine to kiss him more fully on the lips. He rocked his hips against Blaine's, sighing.
"I love you," Blaine breathed against his lips.
"I love you too."
END.
AHHHH. Okay. I hope it wasn't too abrupt. O.o I ALSO HOPE IT WASN'T TOO CHEESY AND THAT THE LOOSE ENDS WEREN'T TIED UP TOO QUICKLY OR EASILY. OH MY GOD I'M SO UNSURE ABOUT THIS CHAPTER IT ISN'T EVEN FUNNY.
I'm not sure if I can live without these characters. I like them a little too much. They're both just so attractive as cowboys.
As for the chest and what's in it...I never decided. I know some people will get really mad about that...leave a comment about what you think is in the chest? Maybe I'll edit and add it in somewhere or make an extra one-shot about it. Something like that. I know, I hate when stories leave stuff hanging, but I did my best to tie everything ELSE up.
GAH. I have no idea what fic will happen next or if I'll just write one-shots for the rest of my life, but, again, I hope you'll stick around, and thank you so much for reading this through to the end.
You're all amazing, and I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did.
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