Blaine

Our shorts are still damp when we board the subway to go back to Brooklyn, and that's after we've eaten corn dogs, walked the length of the boardwalk, and taken our time drinking coffee at a small cafe.

Still, we're tired yet giddy, and both, I think, feeling like the day has been a huge success. We've had some meaningful, insightful conversations, we've laughed, we've messed about in the sea, and we've realized- though we already knew it, really- that we love being in one another's company.

I like that Kurt rests his head onto my shoulder as the train rumbles along. He occasionally murmurs some observation or other to me but mainly we are quiet. I don't find the ride nearly as frightening as I did this morning.

"Did you want to go out, tonight?" Kurt asks when we're free of the subway and walking back to his apartment. "We never did go to that bar."

"Oh, well... We could."

"Please don't feel like we have to. I'm just as happy to stay home and get takeout, if you want? Santana and Rachel will be back tomorrow, so we might be grateful to go out then."

"I'd rather do that," I admit. "Please."

"Good. So would I." He squeezes my hand. "It's more acceptable to eat naked if you're in your own home, I find."

I laugh. "You're outrageous. Tell me, what do Santana and Rachel do?"

"They're both dancers. Rachel teaches, Santana competes. In fact, that sums them up entirely. Rachel likes to tell people what to do, and Santana likes to win at everything."

"What does she dance?"

"Latin. You should see her Argentine Tango, it's fierce. She has this partner, George, and they hate each other. Really. But when they dance together, magic happens. Santana also has a girlfriend, Dani, who makes her a whole lot more bearable. Rachel dates a guy named Todd who lives in Manhattan and does something with numbers that I can't be bothered to understand, and I date you, so I win."

"Smooth."

"True."

Once we're in the apartment, it's like we've been starved of each other all day. Which is partly true; though we've shared plenty of affectionate moments, we've missed being able to make out like this, with me backed up against the counter and Kurt between my legs, making his intentions clear.

"Shower."

It takes me a moment to realize it's me who said that, and I'm now backing Kurt across the room.

"Yes, but in the bathroom, not Santana's room," he says, and gently turns me around.

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." I know he means that sentiment, too, but I wonder if there will ever come a time when I know Kurt's apartment as well as I know my own house. Still, I don't get much of a chance to dwell on it because suddenly we're in the bathroom, and I hear the shower start.

I know I'm hungry for Kurt, desperate, even, but he seems to relish it and lets me lead things, falling eagerly into my arms as my hands start to roam over his body. Feeling his naked form in my arms is something I am getting used to, but that doesn't diminish the heat it flares inside of me; on the contrary, it only seems to make it more intense. We fall apart together, under the spray, our hands slippery with soap as we wrap them around one another.

It's only then that we realize how tired and drained we are, and though it's only early evening, we pull pajamas on and fall onto the couch.

"Can I put the TV on?" Kurt asks, his head resting perfectly on my chest.

"Of course. I quite like to listen to it."

"Okay."

So it plays in the background, but actually we don't tune into it at all. We talk aimlessly, about everything but nothing in particular. We talk books, movies, funny childhood memories, friendships we've outgrown, friendships we've kept. We talk about our parents, and my brother, and we talk about his roommates, who will return tomorrow.

"I'm nervous."

"Don't be. They'll love you. Actually," Kurt sits, immediately making me wary. "I kinda have to go into work on Monday for a short time, and I was wondering if you'd be okay here with Rachel? She'll take good care of you, I swear, and you don't even have to leave the apartment if you don't want."

Truth be told, the thought of being left alone with her scares the life out of me, but she sounds preferable to the other girl, Santana. And anyway, I can't expect Kurt to be with me all the time when my trip was such a last minute thing.

"Of course," I say gallantly. "I'll just wait here for you to return."

We sleep late. In fact, when I stretch into waking and fumble to feel the time on my watch, I'm amazed to realize it's ten thirty. "My mom would have a fit."

"It's Sunday," Kurt mumbles into my neck. "We're allowed to be lazy. I like your watch. I wanna learn how to use it."

"It's Braille. Most of the time I get Siri to tell me the time, but my parents bought me this for when I'm in class, mainly. It's useful."

"This is useful too," Kurt says, his hand slowly stroking my cock, which is rapidly swelling.

"Kurt!"

"Can't help it," he says, pleased with himself. "I want you."

"Oh?" I roll over so I'm on top of him. "What do you want?"

"All of you," he whispers, and then pulls me down into a dirty kiss.

We are interrupted by the apartment door slamming back so hard against the wall that the whole place shakes. "Kurt!"

"Ugh. They're back," Kurt grumbles, tapping my backside to move me to one side. "I'm busy!" he shouts back.

"I don't care! Santana says you told her she could have my comforter. She cannot have my comforter! You tell her she can't!"

"Fuck off, Rach. Why would I tell her that?"

"Get out here," another voice drawls. "We wanna meet your honey."

"In a moment." He wraps his arms about my waist and kisses my neck. "We'll pick this up later."

My heart is pounding; despite their bickering, I know how much these girls mean to Kurt, and I want them to like me. When I don't know someone, and I'm reliant on their voice to give me clues to their thoughts, it's tough. Still, for Kurt, I pull on some shorts and a t-shirt, and follow him out into the living room, trying not to look too timid.

"Well hello," Kurt says, keeping hold of my hand. "I hardly knew you'd returned, you were so quiet. Did you enjoy your spa break?"

"It was anything but relaxing."

"Oh shut up, you're only saying that because-"

"No, no, I'm saying that, because you-"

Their rushed conversation, all over each other, makes it impossible to work out who is talking or even where in the room they are, since they both seem to move about, and I feel myself getting overwhelmed. I press a little closer to Kurt and pray it's not noticeable.

"If you'll both shut up for a second," Kurt says loudly. "Meet Blaine, my boyfriend, slash life partner...you know...whichever is easier."

"Oh. My. GOD!" one girl shrieks. "Did you two get married?"

"NO! We just... we just... talked about some stuff, that's all."

I can hear the absolute elation in Kurt's voice and it makes me smile, but I'm unable to speak; he's just floored me with the 'life partner' line.

"Hey, Blaine, I'm Santana."

"Hi."

"Oh, I'm offering my hand. Sorry."

"Oh! Right." Embarrassed, I reach out and shake her hand, but then she embarrasses me still further by cupping my cheek and cooing over me.

"He's so cute, Kurt! And oh my gosh your eyes are beautiful. Such a pretty, pretty boy. Have his babies," Santana commands. "Immediately."

"Go away."

"Blaine, I am Rachel, Kurt's best friend."

"Watch yourself, Berry," Santana says darkly.

"Well...one of," she begrudgingly corrects. "It's nice to finally meet you, after hearing all about you. How do you like New York?"

"Um... Well... it has Kurt," I say, lamely. I wish I was more forthright, like Kurt is, and I could bluntly say that it's too noisy, and smells funny...but I don't. "I liked Coney Island."

"Nobody likes Coney Island," Santana informs me. "What are your plans today?"

"Staying away from you," Kurt says, and then he laughs at something that I can't see. "You pull the ugliest faces."

"I learn it all from you. Seriously, if you have no plans, why don't we all take Blaine into Manhattan? We could do Times Square, see the Statue of Liberty, Ground Zero...why are you shaking your head at me, Kurt? Berry? What's with the frantic hand signals? Oh... Shit. He can't see."

"No," I say quietly. "I can't. Sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry to me," she says, coming closer. "Suits me fine not to do any of that stuff. How about a picnic in Prospect Park? It's not the nicest of parks, but you're not going to care, are you?"

I grin, I can't help it. Her bluntness is even worse than Kurt's but at the same time, it's entirely refreshing. "I think I'd enjoy that."

Sitting under the shade of a tree, with my arm around Kurt's waist, listening as the three of them discuss a new play set to open in a few weeks, I wonder if this is what it's like, to have friends, to lead an adult life, to be free from the constraints of living under a parent's watchful gaze? I could get used to it, that's for sure. There's a freedom to it all, which is no doubt offset somewhat by the pressure to be financially independent, but I suddenly find myself thinking that I could quite enjoy being here for college, hanging out with Kurt on weekends, maybe taking him out on dates.

That's what I'd really like to do.

Only then, there's the loudest screeching of brakes, followed by a bang, and I flinch so badly that Kurt wraps me in his arms and holds my trembling body close to his. "It's okay, it's okay," he whispers. "Just some moron driving into a wall. He's probably high."

"High? Who would drive while they're high? Who would even get high to begin with?"

"Welcome to New York," Rachel says with a laugh.

"It's true," Kurt says, still keeping me close. "The city is full of weirdos. But it's also full of vibrant, colourful, diverse people who are wonderful to be around. There's loads to do, always stuff to see... The good far outweighs the bad."

I'm not so sure on that, but being with Kurt definitely makes me feel better about a lot of things.

The rest of the afternoon goes smoothly. I don't talk a whole lot, but no one seems worried about that. In fact, I think Santana and Rachel seem to like me. When Kurt mentions that h needs to go into work tomorrow, Rachel tells me she'll take me on a walk around the neighbourhood. I can't turn her down, even though it's the last thing I want to do, so I just smile and say thank you, and pray it'll be a short trip.

Kurt leaves at eight, after making sure I've taken my shower and eaten. I guess, if we were to one day live together, he wouldn't need to do that all the time, but there's some stuff he would always need to do, like read my mail, the letters that don't come in braille, help me navigate to new places. I'm not so sure I'd like to live with someone like me, and I'm beginning to see what Cooper meant when he said I was a burden.

I rub a hand along my jaw, now sporting three days of growth. It feels strange, and I hate it, but I'm not about to ask Kurt to shave me. I think I'll just have to wait it out, and return to Ohio looking like a vagrant.

By the time Rachel is up and ready, I'm feeling a little sorry for myself, and I'm kind of relieved when Santana says she'll come too, because that means I don't have to do as much talking, only, when we sit down outside a cafe to get coffee, the interrogation starts.

"So, Blaine... Let's talk you and Kurt," Santana declares.

"Easy," Rachel says, the warning in her voice clear.

"What? I only want to know what the boy's college plans are, so I know if we're going to be needed to dry his tears for the next four years."

"I don't know about college," I admit. "I want to say I'll come here, because I know it'd make Kurt happy... But I don't know if the city is the place for me. Living in dorms, with Kurt out in Brooklyn...there'd be so many places I'd have to learn how to get to, not to mention the subway. How would I ever manage to do all of that? What if I get mugged? My mom said it's a real problem here."

"Carry pepper spray, like we do," Rachel suggests. "But you know, Blaine, you're not ever going to have any quality of life if you spend the whole time assuming you can't do stuff. Why not try?"

"I don't even know what courses there are here, what colleges."

"Hmm. You know, I took some dance class at the Helen Keller Center. You heard of that?"

"I know who she was. She left quite a legacy."

"She did, and I think you'd really benefit from some of their services. I could call them for you?"

The enthusiasm in her voice is sweet, but it only makes it harder to refuse her offer. "I think...uh... I think maybe they won't be able to offer me anything, as such. I think... I think this is it for me. This is as confident and okay with being blind as I'm going to get. I want to teach in a school for the blind, eventually, but I need to find out how I can go about that."

"That's the thing, though," Rachel, interrupts. "They do courses and things, tailored for people your age, who are thinking about their future. They support you in living away from home, and they offer advice about how to approach employment... Please let me call them, and see if you can visit? Kurt would go with you, I know he would."

"It's like a center? A place I can go?"

"Yes! And it's right here in Brooklyn. You could attend whatever college you wanted, and they'd work in conjunction with the center for you to do some orientation there, and various courses and classes."

"You must've been to a similar place at home, surely?" Santana asks.

Dazed, I shake my head. "No... My parents... They helped me instead but I... Do you think they'd help me with adjusting to the noise here?"

"Sure they would. And you know... If you did move here, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have Kurt, of course, but you'd have us, too. Berry and I both work in Manhattan, so if college was there we could meet you, take you places you need to go or whatever."

I lean back in my chair, tilting my face to the sun, and I'm grateful that they're both silent while I think things over. "Yes," I say eventually. "Call them. But before you do, I need to ask for your help with something else."