Chapter Twenty: Mornings and Nights

Mornings had always been Kurt's favourite part of the day. There was something about waking up to the gleam of sunlight in your eyes, about lifting yourself up and knowing that nothing has had the chance to tear you down quite yet, that made it easier to face the world. Something about possibilities, about starting anew, about being alive.

His eyelids parted slowly as the rising of the sun, like an unravelling paper fan in all its glory and elegance, bathed him more and more in warmth and light and vision. He let his gaze wander lazily around the familiar room for a moment, just until he woke himself up with it – then, he allowed himself to sink back into the couch, eyes falling shut once more as the ridiculous grin took over his face.

I think that means you're my boyfriend, Blaine Anderson.

Kurt Hummel fucking loved mornings. Especially when he could wake up and remember something so… unequivocal. Maybe it would have meant less if he weren't seventeen, or if he'd had a boyfriend before, or if he'd been through less shit in his lifetime, but somehow, he doubted those thoughts. In no universe would he be anything other than ecstatic to have Blaine as his boyfriend. He was sure of that much.

He was usually one to get right up, but he felt the desire to laze around today. Eyes shut, Kurt let his mind wander, drifting back to yesterday. He remembered their first kiss in this very room – ignoring the urge to open his eyes and fix them to that exact spot – when he'd finally realized that Blaine would never kiss him on his own, that he had to make the first move. He remembered their second kiss, their third, how they'd kissed until they'd fallen over the arm of the couch he was on right now, lips parting for the sake of laughter and the necessity of air. He remembered how his teeth had caught Blaine's throat, tugging gently but intently as the man made soft, breathy noises. The last memory made his muscles tense with longing.

The grin didn't leave his face all morning, not when he eventually had to get up, not when Burt almost burned down the kitchen in an attempt to cook, not when Finn had teased him about the nap lines etched into his cheek and down his left arm. The truth was that he hadn't slept that well in ages – perhaps he should have felt too excited to sleep, but all he really felt was peaceful. Blaine had described the feeling best: like coming home. It lifted him up, as though he couldn't really feel his feet on the ground.

The grin only left once Carole descended the stairs, a worn expression clouding her calm features. "Are you alright, hon?" Burt asked, brows furrowing as he took in her disheveled state as she grabbed a cup of coffee from his hands. "I didn't want to wake you this morning, you looked so tired."

"It's nothing," she dismissed. Kurt didn't miss the unhappy look she threw at him, no matter how short-lived. She'd never looked at him like that before. His stomach churned anxiously.

Burt pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead. "Where did you go last night? I felt you leave, but I was too tired to check."

"I thought I heard a noise downstairs," Carole explained, rubbing her eyes. "I wanted to make sure Kurt was okay."

Kurt's heart sputtered. Shit. "N-Nothing was wrong! I just got up to microwave some milk because I couldn't sleep." Fingers curling anxiously into his palm, Kurt waited, jaw clenched, for her to rat him out for sneaking out in the middle of the night.

"Yes, you were asleep by the time I got there," she brushed off, wandering over towards the stove. "What's for breakfast?"

Oh. His shoulders relaxed, but Kurt watched her with cautious eyes, fingers uncurling to grip tightly at the metal bracelet around his wrist. Why hadn't she…? His eyes followed as she plucked the top off a pot with a frown, waving her hands in front of her nose to ward off the foul smell.

"Burt cooked," Finn said with a grimace as smoke filled the air again. "It's about as good as you would expect."

His father nudged his brother playfully. "Enough of that. At least I tried."

"Hey, you don't want to see me try," Finn argued. The three Hudson-Hummels began voicing their agreements, passing light-hearted, teasing remarks back and forth at the tall boy's expense. He pouted petulantly at the ribbing. "You guys didn't have to say yes so fast…"

"I think we did, dear," Carole consoled, rubbing her son's back.

Burt and Finn set to work, then, clearing out the smoke from the kitchen. They opened windows, letting in the cold air, and waved the newspaper around to move it along. Once they were done, they retired to the living room to do whatever it was they did on easy mornings, Burt recycling that useful paper to catch up on the world's events. Finn, on the other hand, made quick work of filling his empty belly with candy canes, claiming that Christmas had passed and they were soon to be 'expired.' No one attempted to correct him.

"We should make him some real food before his blood glucose levels become unreadable by machines in our current age of medical technology," Kurt muttered, trudging back into the kitchen with Carole at his heels. She laughed, but it was a grated, strained sound that hurt both of their ears. Carole winced as she pulled the apron over her head.

"I honestly don't know where he got his appetite, or his height for that matter," she confessed, cracking a few eggs into a bowl. When she'd first moved in, Kurt had urged her to crack them on the counter instead of the side of the bowl. Always on a flat surface so the shells don't get inside, his mother had always told him when he'd baked with her as a child. He smiled as he watched Carole do it that way, now an instinct of sorts.

"His dad wasn't a giant?" Kurt asked absently, grating some cheese for their omelets.

Carole shook her head. "Christopher was a normal height. I think if he hadn't been, he would have tried to make it as a pro-baller. You couldn't get that man off the court, not even for homemade lasagna. I always took offense."

"But then Finn came along, and there was never any lasagna left," Kurt teased lightheartedly, nothing but endeared by his brother's idiosyncrasies.

"Mm," she replied distractedly, whipping her wrist, the movement spurring on the metal fork that clanged noisily against the side of the bowl. The sound made Kurt's head spin, but he ignored it, gripping the sides of the counter to steady himself. Carole seemed to notice, slowing her hand, asking, "You okay, Kurt?"

"Fine," he breathed, nodding. "Just a bit nauseous."

Carole set down her utensils, fingers instantly probing at Kurt's forehead. He flinched away violently, and she cursed under her breath. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I forgot," she apologized despite his waving her apologies off. She hesitated, hands hovering over his head, waiting for further instruction.

"I'm fine, really. No need to check." Kurt shrugged, flicking the stove on and pouring some oil into a pan. "Hand me the pepper?"

She did. "Kurt, about yesterday…"

"Salt?" He brushed her off, reaching over her to grab his favourite spatula.

"Please listen to me, Kurt." Her voice was hard but not unfriendly; it was the voice of a mother. He stopped, taking a deep breath, and nodded for her to continue. She said, "I woke up last night when I heard your cellphone go off. I didn't go down because I figured you just forgot to turn it off. But then I heard a car pull into the driveway. That was concerning."

"Could have been anything," Kurt murmured, the sizzling of the eggs as they hit the hot pan less invigorating than it used to be. "Maybe I ordered a pizza."

"After midnight? I'm not sure Papa John's is open that late."

"They are, actually," Kurt pointed out. "Rachel ordered a pizza at 1 am last time I stayed at her place. She answered the door in her pajamas. It was kind of ridiculous." He shut his mouth, realizing that he may have just admitted that he hadn't, in fact, ordered a pizza after midnight. He poked at the omelet with his spatula.

Carole raised her eyebrows, opening the fridge pointedly. "Unless you ate the whole thing, I doubt the car was the pizza delivery man's. And the fact that it was parked out there for an hour would make even that story concerning."

Kurt clenched his jaw. "What do you want from me, Carole?"

She let the fridge door shut loudly. "I don't know, maybe the truth? I was terrified when I came down and you weren't in the house until I recognized Dr. Anderson's car."

He was quiet for a moment, arranging the cooked breakfast on a plate and setting it on the counter. "Blaine had a nightmare," he whispered, not looking her in the eye. "I couldn't not see him. I'm not sorry for being there for my… for Blaine, but I'm sorry for worrying you."

Carole pressed her palm into her forehead, breathing deeply. "Not pizza, then."

"No, not pizza."

"Blaine?"

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut. "Blaine."

"I know you don't want to talk to me about this," Carole acknowledged, "but I'm trying to be a parent and a friend, here. I've been keeping Burt in check… well, I've been trying. He hasn't shot the kid yet, so that's good. But I need you to be honest to me, Kurt. Are you seeing Blaine?"

He didn't respond immediately, folding his lips together as his mind went haywire trying to find a way out. He settled on, "I see Blaine a lot. He's my friend. Dad's okay with that, said so himself." Kurt didn't elaborate, not even when she fixed a disbelieving look on him.

"You know that's not-" Carole was cut off by Finn's large voice carrying from the living room asking if 'real breakfast' was ready. Kurt sighed in relief, quickly snatching up the plates and excusing himself to put them on the table.

His heart throbbed behind his ears the rest of the morning, especially as they sat down to eat and he would catch Carole's grimace out of the corner of his eye every few minutes, this time not because of the food. She hadn't told his father yet, but nothing was stopping her. He had to figure this out, and fast.

But goddamn if it wasn't still the best morning of his life.

Mornings had always been Blaine's least favourite part of the day. Maybe it was because he'd spent his whole life waking up at five o'clock for school, or rounds, or some ridiculous meeting his father used to drag him too in an attempt to convince him to drop out of pre-med. It'll take you decades to make any decent money, he'd said with disgust in his voice. Blaine had given up trying to explain his reasons to him after the third college tour – which, coincidentally, always happened before 7 am.

As the harsh glare of morning light flooded his room, Blaine groaned, covering his eyes with one hand and flipping himself over onto his bare stomach. His forehead pressed into the feathery pillow, cradling his head delicately. Muscles relaxing, Blaine let himself remember the feeling of Kurt's soft hands scraping his stubble as they cupped his face to bring them closer together. He sighed contently, not minding waking up as much.

I think that means you're my boyfriend, Blaine Anderson.

The words repeated in his mind, over and over. His shoulders were lighter than they had been in ages. Gone was the weight, the guilt, the uncertainty, and all that was left was peacefulness. Whatever anyone else thought of them, he knew that he and Kurt were going to be, that they would at least have the chance.

Blaine wasn't new to relationships. He wasn't new to dating or boyfriends or even the physical aspect. Of course he wasn't – he was a twenty-four-year-old man who'd lived through high school, lived through college, lived through life. And, while that had terrified him when he'd first realized his feelings for Kurt, he thought maybe it would help him now. He wouldn't rush whatever was between them, wouldn't be so consumed in his need to have firsts or experiences or physical touches that he would overstep or forget to consider Kurt above all. He would be controlled, but Kurt would be in control.

That thought may have caused his mind to wander for a bit. Controlled, my ass. At least he was trying his best. He entertained the idea of getting one of those elastics for his wrist that he could snap whenever…

Maybe he took a little longer than usual to get out of bed, but his brother's teasing was worth it. "I see you're finally awake," Cooper laughed, ruffling his still bed-messy hair. "I'll drive you to the hospital so you're not late. I have no idea how you ever get to rounds on time if this is still what you're like in the mornings."

"Hmm?" Blaine asked, yawning, as he reached over his brother for the coffee that was nicely brewed for him. He lifted up his mug. "Thanks for this."

"Figured someone would have to take over your platonic husband's duties while he's out of town," Cooper teased, shaking his head. "Poor guy doesn't even get any of the… benefits."

"Eat dirt," Blaine cursed, flipping his brother off with one hand while bringing the mug to his chapped lips with the other. He sighed as the drink warmed his sore throat. All was forgiven.

"Better than eating a-" Cooper was cut off by his daughter wandering into the room, a tired, annoyed look on her face. He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, and her frown lightened up a bit. "What's up, Squirt Junior?"

"She's not my kid-" Blaine began, but Cooper just smirked at him to shut him up.

Lily pouted, folding her arms over her chest. The two immediately gave her their full attention, sensing that something was wrong. Sniffing quietly, she said, "I don't want a babysitter today. I want you to stay with me, daddy."

Cooper frowned, deep and suddenly pained. "I have to go to work, baby. We agreed on this when we talked about you coming to stay with me instead of grandma."

"No," she protested. "I don't care. I want you to stay. I don't want a babysitter. I don't even know her."

His brother rubbed a hand over his tense jaw. "Lily, I can stay home today, but I have to go back to work eventually. If you're scared with a babysitter, maybe it's best if you stay with grandma for a bit longer."

That had been the wrong thing to say, because her eyes welled up almost instantly, tears spilling endlessly over her cheeks. Her breath came out in little puffs as she cried, eyes turning red and swollen. Cooper's face fell, and he gathered her up in his arms, clearly wanting to curse but keeping it in. He whispered muffled reassurances to her. "Oh, baby, I'm sorry, you don't have to go back, I promise."

Blaine's heart squeezed in his chest, and he felt like he was suffocating as he watched them. Backing up a little, he set his empty coffee mug on the corner and turned away, blocking the sounds of tears out. He should have helped, but he couldn't. Why couldn't he? Taking deep breaths, Blaine turned around eventually to see that Lily had fallen back asleep on the couch and Cooper was stroking her hair. Once his brother noticed Blaine, he stood and returned to the kitchen.

Blaine apologized immediately. "I'm sorry, Coop, I should have-"

"No, it's fine," he dismissed, waving him off. "She's not your kid, like you said."

"That's not what I meant. You know I love her."

Cooper nodded. "I know you do, but you didn't sign up to deal with this part."

Blaine wiped his cheek. "Still, I should have."

"Well, I shouldn't have said that to her in the first place. What was I thinking?" Cooper groaned, slamming his forehead onto the counter. Blaine grabbed his mug, worried it would fall over and break from the force. Jeez, parenthood.

"It was only six months ago," Blaine reminded him gently, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as he lifted himself back up. "She was traumatized. I'm not surprised that she doesn't want to be left alone in a house with a stranger, Coop, but that doesn't mean we should give up trying to settle her here."

Cooper's mouth fell open, and tears began streaming down his cheeks again. "Shit, Blaine. How did I not think of that? And I never even introduced Elizabeth to her before asking her to babysit…"

"How about the three of you go out for some hot chocolate?" Blaine suggested. "Let Lily get used to her before you leave them alone together. It might even take a few weeks, but I think she'll be okay."

"I can't take a few weeks off from the hospital," Cooper reminded him. "I've already been gone so often."

Blaine held up his phone, grinning. "Already texted mom to ask if Donna is okay with coming here for a while, and she said she doesn't have another job lined up for a month. Lily's already comfortable with her, so I don't think she'll argue. While you're at work, Donna will stay with Lily while she gets to know the new babysitter."

"Hell, Blaine, you're a genius," Cooper breathed, pulling his brother into a bone-crushing hug. "What would I do without you?"

"Probably be the mess you've always been without me," Blaine teased, hugging back equally tightly. "We're the Anderson Brothers, after all. Most iconic duo of all time."

"Amen, sister."

"…. Brother."

"Right, right, whatever," Cooper dismissed, breaking their hug to grab his car keys. He tossed them to Blaine. "Go. You're late for rounds already."

"Don't you need the car?" Blaine asked, already pulling his coat on.

"I'll ask Elizabeth to pick us up here once Lily wakes up," Cooper explained, returning to the living room to pull a blanket over his sleeping kid. "You really should look into getting your own car, though, Blaine. You're an adult. It's just sad."

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Again, broke med student."

"Use dad's money." At Blaine immediate refusal, Cooper held up a hand and explained. "You have a lot of it left. Think of it as a fuck you to our father, if it makes you feel better. He doesn't deserve to keep having control over your life, squirt."

"Alright," Blaine finally agreed. "I'll think about it. No promises."

"That's all I'm asking. I just want you to be happy." Cooper waved him off then, pointing at the clock, which did, in fact, show that Blaine was late. He fastened his coat and tugged on a hat, bracing himself for Ohio winter. Suddenly, he was hit by a wave of nostalgia for New York, with its frozen street signs and blinding decorations and never-ending live music. Blaine brushed it off as he always did, reminding himself that he couldn't leave Lima right now.

A new thought in the back of his mind asked him how much of his life he was willing to spend here, how much longer he would stay for his family when all he really needed to do was two more years of school. He would be a doctor soon enough, able to start his internship elsewhere. But Kurt…

It wouldn't do to think about it right now, he reasoned. No, for now, he had to focus on being on time for rounds.

This hasn't been the worst morning, he thought to himself as he slipped into the driver's seat of his brother's car. But I can think of someone who would make it better.

"Are you serious? They haven't even come to visit you?" Tina asked, dramatically placing a hand on her chest. She shook her head as her fingers dove into the chip bowl. "I would be pissed."

Kurt shrugged. "It's not a big deal. Everyone's busy around the holidays. Besides, it would be kind of awkward, wouldn't it? I've never been great friends with the Glee guys."

"I'm sure they still care that you're alive," Quinn argued. "Maybe they just need an excuse."

"You know what this means, right?" Mercedes chimed in, a devious glint in her brown eyes. Kurt shook his head warily, and she elaborated enthusiastically. "We're having a party. Well, you're having a party, since you can't leave the house yet. Saturday night, New Year's. It's going to be fucking amazing."

Kurt hesitated. "Cedes, I don't know…"

"It's not a bad idea," agreed Quinn, smiling at him reassuringly. "It won't get too out of hand, promise. We know you're still recovering. Plus, I assume Burt and Carole will be here, so there's no chance of the Kurt plus alcohol plus Ms. Pillsbury's shoes incident again."

He groaned, wanting to flip her off but deciding against it purely on the basis that she was, well, Quinn. "Can we not bring that up ever again?" he pleaded, rolling his eyes.

"No promises," she laughed, high and bright like bells.

Santana smirked. "Hell yes. I'll text Blaine and see if he's free." The girls immediately erupted into excited chatter, grabbing each other's arms in anticipation. It seemed they really wanted to meet him. Which, of course, made Kurt's stomach churn anxiously.

"Ok, first of all, I haven't even agreed to this yet," Kurt hissed, glaring at Santana, "and second of all, Blaine does not want to spend his New Year's surrounded by a bunch of high schoolers."

"He spends most of his time with one high schooler, does he not?" Santana fought back, raising her eyebrows.

"She's not wrong," Quinn agreed, shrugging when he turned his et tu, brute? expression onto her. This time, Kurt did flip her off, and she just laughed in response. "Come on, don't be so uptight. It'll be fun, Kurt. You need to have some fun."

"Parties are fun," Brittany added, smiling innocently at him.

"Okay, okay, fine," Kurt conceded, spirits raised a little by their happy cheers. "I'll talk to my dad. No promises. He and Carole have been really strict about me resting lately."

"What you need is a good time," Mercedes insisted. "You've been cooped up for so long, it's a wonder you haven't gone insane. A party will be good for you."

"I sure hope so," he muttered, chewing on his lip. The conversation seemed to stick on the party for the rest of the day, with the girls discussing karaoke options – Rachel usually brought the machine, but there was no way in hell she was invited – as well as food, drinks, and unsurprisingly, dates.

"I don't care that it's not prom! I need a date to any party," Tina argued. "It's classy."

"It's trashy," Santana disagreed, snorting. "We're not preteens going to a school dance."

Mercedes added, "It kind of sounds fun. Sam and I just got back together, and I think it would be great for us to go together."

Kurt's eyes widened. "You did? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I meant to," she frowned. "Did I not? Oh shit, I think we announced it at school. Sorry, Kurt."

He shook his head. "It's fine. Besides, I'm going back next semester, so I won't miss anything else." Mercedes smiled happily at him, congratulating him softly. The others joined in, a tender moment between close friends.

Once that was over, Santana leaned back on the armchair. "If we're doing this stupid date thing, then Kurt has to text Blaine and ask him."

"I'm sorry, what?" Kurt replied, exasperated. "We've been over this. He's not interested."

"In you, or in the party?" Quinn asked, seeming genuinely invested.

He turned his eyes to the ceiling, wishing he were anywhere but there. "I don't know, neither?"

"Bullshit," Santana fought back. "I've seen how he looks at you."

He wanted to tell them, he really did, but his father was either listening in the kitchen or upstairs. Either way, too close for someone who had the power to keep Kurt away from his boyfriend.

His heart fluttered. Boyfriend. He would never, ever get tired of that.

"Look, whatever way he looks at me, it doesn't matter," Kurt insisted. He felt bad about lying to them, but not as bad as he would feel if the truth got out. So, he used the one argument he knew they couldn't contest. "I'm not ready for that, anyway. It's too soon."

They were silent for a moment before Quinn sighed. "Of course, Kurt. We understand."

"Yeah, Kurt," Tina added. "No rush at all. Just focus on getting better."

All the girls began nodding, and he felt another rush of guilt, but he kept it to himself. It was fine. It wouldn't be forever. But maybe he could still have Blaine there, just so they could spend New Year's together? He thought that maybe Burt would allow them some privacy if he had the party, and maybe he could even get a New Year's kiss…

"I'll ask him to come," Kurt agreed, "as friends. Nothing else. Please don't say anything that would make him uncomfortable." Or make my dad uncomfortable, he added in his mind.

They agreed easily, giving up teasing him to pick on Mercedes about Sam instead. Kurt listened with rapture, overjoyed that his friend had found love again. It seemed that they were all happy lately, except Finn and Rachel. He found his mind drifting to the girl, wondering how she was, if she had forgiven herself yet – a part of him hoped the hadn't, while the other part just wanted to move on.

Maybe a third part secretly hoped she would crash the party. That always ended well in movies.

The house was empty a few hours from then, and Kurt began picking up the plates and bowls they'd left out. Burt, perhaps sensing the quiet like he did, groaned as he came down the stairs. "Lots of trash, huh?" he called out, joining Kurt in the living room. "Let your old man handle that. You're supposed to be resting."

Kurt snorted. "When have you ever known me to do that?"

"Fair enough." Nevertheless, Burt grabbed the dishes from Kurt and walked them over to the kitchen, turning on the faucet. The water was always too hot – something about properly killing the germs. "You all have a good time?"

"Great time," Kurt confirmed, leaning against the counter as he watched his father pull on a pair of rubber gloves. The man would fix a car and get covered in oil, no problem, but dishes required gloves.

"Good to hear, kiddo," Burt said, sounding happier. "I'm glad you're spending time with your friends.

Kurt wrung his hands nervously. "Uh, about that…"

His father turned to him, curious. "Yes?"

He decided to just rip off the band-aid. "The girls want to have a New Year's party. Here."

Surprisingly, his father just shrugged. "That sounds fun. Invite the whole club so Finn can have some fun too. He's been down lately with all the Rachel stuff. Spending most of his time at the garage lately. Kid could do for a good time, and so could you."

Kurt blinked. "You're okay with it?"

"Of course," Burt replied, sounding a bit put-off. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Right, sorry," Kurt said, picking at his fingernails. "Thanks, dad."

"Kurt?"

"Yeah?" The boy looked up to see his father's cautious expression.

"You know all I want is for you to be happy, right?" Burt said seriously. "That's all I've ever wanted for you, and everything I've ever done has been to make that happen."

The breath seemed to leave Kurt's chest – relief. Somehow, he knew that their relationship was going to be okay, no matter how strained it had been lately. His father would come around to see that Blaine was right for him. "Yeah, dad. I know."

So, as he wrapped his arms around his father for the first time since his panic attack, Kurt felt like everything was starting to go back to normal. His friends came over like normal, he was going back to school, his dad wanted him to be happy… It may have even slipped his mind that normal had never been a word used to describe his life, not once.

You can't go back to something you never had.

The entire day at the hospital, Blaine had been exhausted. He'd spent practically all of last night with Kurt, sitting on his porch until the cold winds had prompted them both to hide out in Cooper's car in the driveway. They'd talked mostly, exchanging a few kisses under the pretext of warmth, long past the hour Blaine usually went to bed – although, to be fair, since the night that Kurt was brought into the hospital, he'd had the strangest of sleep schedules.

Luckily for him, he was done early, leaving for the day right after catching up on holiday gossip with Marley and Sebastian over lunch. By one in the afternoon, Blaine was back in that same car, denying to himself that he spent every stop light glancing at the passenger's seat and trying to catch a whiff of Kurt's familiar scent.

A few minutes later, Blaine found himself pulling into an auto shop. He slipped out of the car, slamming the door behind him as he stared at the large sign out front: Hummel Tires & Lube. What a coincidence.

He wandered around inside, looking for no one in particular. He did wonder if this was actually Burt's shop, as he'd never heard him mention owning a garage. Hummel wasn't that common a last name, was it? Maybe it was a relative of theirs? But Kurt hadn't mentioned…

"Blaine? Is that you?"

That was decidedly not Burt's voice. He turned to find a tall boy wiping his hands on his grimy overalls. Blaine blinked in surprise. "Finn? I didn't know you worked in a garage."

The boy shrugged. "I don't really. Sometimes I help out when it's busy."

"So, this is Burt's shop, then."

"The name didn't give it away?" A voice boomed from the other side of the shop. Blaine looked up to find Burt Hummel himself, baseball cap absent and showing off his bald, shiny head. He made his way over to the two, taking a closer look at Cooper's car. He gently knocked on the hood and, in lieu of greeting the man, asked, "Why'd you bring her in?"

"Her?" Blaine asked cluelessly. At Burt's incredulous expression, he realized who he was talking about – or rather what. "Oh, the car. Right. Uh, she is fine, I think. My brother's car, I'm just borrowing it… um, her."

"What are you doing here, then?" Finn asked with raised eyebrows.

Blaine wanted to retort, but he didn't exactly have an answer. "I saw the sign while I was driving home," he decided. "I thought I'd stop by and see if this place is... well, yours. Plus my brother mentioned that I should look into getting my own car this morning, so it was a fun coincidence."

Burt laughed, low and guttural. "We don't sell cars, unfortunately. This is a repair shop. You're looking for a dealership. Not the same thing."

Blaine flushed tomato red. "I knew that," he insisted. He hadn't known that. He also had a feeling that they both knew that he hadn't known that.

"I don't think you did," Finn teased matter-of-factly. Blaine's cheeks flushed deeper – in the span of five minutes, he'd managed to humiliate himself in front of his boyfriend's father and stepbrother alike.

He stopped. Boyfriend. He'd had to bit back the smile that bloomed then so hard that the insides of his mouth were left tender. "I don't know much about cars," he admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"In that case, I wouldn't go to a dealership alone," Burt warned, ducking behind the front desk to type something out on his old-looking computer. "Bring someone who knows a thing or two about cars. You don't want to end up paying twice as much."

"I don't really know anyone with vast car expertise," Blaine answered, racking his brain for any such person. His mind immediately went to Cooper, but he remembered that Vivian had been the one to buy their car. Cooper was just as hopeless as he was.

Burt watched him curiously. "No one? Not even your old man?"

Oh. He hadn't seen that coming. Blaine bit his lip. "No, unfortunately. My father died four years ago. He used to be into cars, though." He winced – how awkward could he possibly be? Not that there was a better way of telling your boyfriend's father that your own father was, in fact, dead.

"Oh. Sorry, kid," Burt replied gruffly, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. That was fine with Blaine – he was equally uncomfortable. The topic change that followed was welcome. Burt glanced at Finn. "You could take this one with you, if he's okay with it."

Finn shrugged. "I mean, I could, but I'm not super great at math."

"Good point," Burt agreed, which made Finn glare at him. He held his hands up defensively. "What? You said it, not me!"

Blaine bit back a smile at their back-and-forth, the kind of relationship he'd always wanted with his father but had never had. An idea popped into his head, and he voiced it quietly before he changed his mind, anxiety thrumming in his veins. "Maybe you could come with me, Burt?" he asked, trying not to look the intimidating man in the eyes. "If you're not too busy…"

Burt seemed to consider it, maybe for a moment too long if the fear in Blaine's eyes had anything to say about it. Finally, he shrugged, flipping the towel in his hand over his shoulder. "Sure, why not. This old man's probably got some good bargaining left in him."

"That would make Kurt really happy," Finn observed, making the two men smile in unison. Common ground. That had to be good, right? Maybe not so much since he was dating said common ground, but it was a start.

The mechanic asked, "When are you thinking, kid?"

He gave it some good thought. "I've got a pretty busy week at the hospital. How's next Tuesday?"

Burt nodded. "See you then, Blaine."

Blaine popped open the driver's seat, waving to the Hudson-Hummel boys one more time before leaving Hummel Tires & Lube in his rearview mirror. He hadn't expected this after his conversation with his brother. In fact, he'd barely even been considering actually buying a car. Although he could use a faster mode of transport, and the opportunity to spend some time with Burt and get his approval would be helpful. And maybe make Kurt really happy. That would be, as Cooper had put it, the ultimate fuck you to his father.

He was really going to buy a car just to make his boyfriend happy, wasn't he? He was so far gone, it was laughable. And laugh he did, loud and carefree and content as he cruised towards his brother's house, hopefully the last ride he would have to take in this car.

From Blaine 3: Come outside.

To Blaine 3: What?

From Blaine 3: I'm standing in your driveway. Like, right now.

To Blaine 3: …

To Blaine 3: Serious?

From Blaine 3: Dead serious.

To Blaine 3: I'm coming.

Kurt shut the door gently behind him, glad he'd put his phone on silent that night. He did not need to listen to Carole lecture him again. Luckily for him, the girls coming over had dampened any opportunities for his stepmother to catch him alone, and he'd gone to bed early – well, claimed he had. He was a teenager, after all, and teenagers stay up late.

So, when Blaine asked, "Did I wake you?" as they collided into a tangle of limbs in the driveway, the only logical response was, "of course you didn't." This time, wanting more privacy, Kurt led Blaine by his elbow into the backyard, bathed in the glow of the moon and stars. Everything was asleep, even the trees, and they were really and truly alone.

"I should invest in some cuter pajamas if you're going to make a habit of sneaking me out of the house in the middle of the night," Kurt mused as Blaine lifted him gently onto the tree swing that the previous owners must have installed.

Blaine crinkled his nose, kissing Kurt's neck above his pajama top's collar. "I think these are cute. Maybe you just wear them well." His arms came around the boy's waist, encircling him in a warm, sweet embrace as their lips met in the middle.

Kurt pulled away first, growing surer that he wasn't only going to get a limited number. "You must like me like this," he whispered into Blaine's ear, lips brushing against the soft skin. "Where yours arms fit so perfectly around my waist."

"I love them around the back of your neck, too," Blaine reassured the boy pressing kisses behind his ear. He shivered, angling his neck to give him more space. "When your arms are around my waist, I feel safe."

"Me too," Kurt murmured, pulling back to join their lips again. He whispered against them, "We have time for both."

"We have lots of time," the man agreed. Nevertheless, he pulled away, coming around behind Kurt and pushing the swing gently. It was a careful, calculated motion, but full of affection and longing. Kurt would stop the swing with his foot, falling back into Blaine's arms, and they would repeat it again, and again, and again until Blaine's muscles were sore and Kurt was falling back asleep from the silent lullaby.

Kurt stopped the swing harder once. "Do you believe in New Year's resolutions?" he asked, turning around in his seat to stare at his boyfriend's eyelashes gleaming in the soft moonlight.

Blaine laughed and maneuvered him forwards so his ribs weren't strained. "I believe people can change," he answered, twisting the rope around his finger and letting go just before it turned blue.

"I don't know if I do," Kurt said. "I've never known anyone to change."

"Sure you have. You told me yourself that Finn used to bully you, and now he's your brother," Blaine pointed out.

"Good point," Kurt accepted easily, nudging his foot off the ground. Blaine began pushing him again, and Kurt continued to speak as he swung back and forth with barely any force. "Do you have plans for New Year's?"

"Not besides calling my handsome boyfriend," Blaine teased, catching him in his arms one last time. The tiredness that echoed between their bodies was enough for them to just stay like that.

"Will you spend it with me?"

Blaine came around front and kissed his nose. "Of course, if you'll let me."

"The girls want me to have a party," he explained. "I don't want to, but I figure it'll at least let us see each other."

"I think it sounds great," Blaine agreed, bringing their foreheads together. He grinned stupidly as he stared into his boyfriend's indescribable eyes. "Your dad is taking me car shopping next week."

Kurt's mouth fell open in an ecstatic laugh. "There it is: the Blaine Anderson charm. He'll be obsessed with you by the end of the day."

They held onto each other then as time passed. It was unspoken that they couldn't keep sneaking out in the middle of the night – who knew when they would be alone together again, at least like this. Kurt tried to keep his eyes open, cursing the fact that he hadn't slept more during the day. His legs swung beneath him as he teetered sleepily on the tree swing.

When Kurt's exhaustion won out, Blaine carried him back into the house, relishing in the feeling of his arms coming to rest unconsciously on his chest. He set him down on the couch, tucking the blankets up around him, as though maybe if he was wrapped tight enough, no monsters would come for him in his sleep. Pressing a kiss to his hair, Blaine snuck back out quietly, walking the practiced route to the bus station.

Nights had always been Blaine's favourite part of the day.

A/N: This story is slowly descending into hedonism, and I absolutely love it :))) Leave a review letting me know your thoughts! Special thanks to Ali Scar for your lovely, thoughtful comments since the beginning.

Lots of love,

Naya