A/N: Hello and happy Wednesday! Thank you to everyone who enjoyed the double feature weekend; I had been so excited to do that for a while now and your reactions and comments were even better than I had imagined, so thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee

Chapter 13

The house had that eerie yet peaceful calm that only early morning could bring. The whole world asleep except for Kurt and this house and Darla, bathed in silver light. Even knowing what Darla had seen, some young part of Kurt caused him to open the door slowly, cringing at the elongated squeeeeek of the screen door. He tiptoed into the house, closing the door softly behind him. He turned to see Darla, standing before him, arms crossed with a terribly amused expression on her face.

"You're home late." She said with a sly smile, barely containing a laugh.

"It's like, 5 am?" Kurt took a shot in the dark; he had no idea what time it was. He hadn't thought to look at a clock when he had the option to look at a very naked, very sleepy Blaine.

"Okay, then. Early." Darla revised easily with a dainty shrug of her shoulders. "Soooo," she drawled, her smile growing bigger and more wicked.

"Welp! I should probably try to grab a few more hours of sleep. I wouldn't want to throw off my entire sleep schedule!" Kurt said hurriedly, making his way towards the stairs. But Darla was having none of that. As if he hadn't even spoken, Darla put a hand on his upper and arm and laughed softly. "Darlin', coffee's ready in the kitchen." And walked down the hall.

Kurt sighed and followed. Wordlessly, he poured himself a mug and sat down at the tiny kitchen table with Darla. It wasn't that he was embarrassed about what she'd seen. Hell, he was even sort of proud: he'd snagged Blaine! Blaine! The hottest, sweetest guy to have ever existed! That had to come with some serious bragging rights. It was more that he didn't know how to start the conversation. For every wonderful thing about this, every beautiful moment that came out of being with Blaine, a black cloud hung over the horizon. A conversation he was sure would come later and that he was wholly unprepared to have.

He took a deep breath, shoved all of the negative stuff aside and melted down onto the table. A giggle bubbled up from deep inside him, forehead pressed to the cool wood of the table. A glee that he hadn't allowed himself to fully relish in yet, overtaking him. He rolled his head to the side, eyeing Darla with shining eyes. "Oh my God," he breathed, a giggle erupting from him again. "Oh my God!"

Darla's smile exploded in full force. Her toothy grin shining down on him with all the strength of the sun. "Oh darlin', I'm so happy for you!" She practically squealed, scooping up his hands to cradle them in her own. "Tell me everything!" She said, like the big sister he'd never had.

Kurt finally peeled his face off the table, a smile still stretched wide on his features. "Oh no no no, I don't kiss and tell." He said playfully, twisting his fingers in front of his lips and throwing away the key.

Darla raised a devilish eyebrow. "So I take it it wasn't totally PG then?" Kurt snorted in answer and Darla's smile only widened impossibly. "I mean, I assumed. You don't usually spend the night with someone for some light hand holding."

Kurt laughed, "This is true." his laugh ended in a hum, eyes turning down to study his steaming coffee. They sat in companionable silence for a minute or two, letting the still of the morning permeate the room.

Kurt looked up at Darla, up through his lashes and said, "Darla? I'm really happy." He hadn't dared to say it out loud until now. And he wondered if she knew that yes, he was talking about Blaine. But he also meant here, in Cassville, this whole summer, despite everything.

Darla reached out to pat his hand. "Oh darlin'," she said softly, eyes even softer.

Kurt felt the stretch of his smile against his cheeks, a feeling that felt so constant here. He

couldn't remember smiling like this back in New York. He smiled, sure. Been happy even. But that sort of happiness seemed to pale in comparison. Just a sad facsimile of what he'd felt these past few weeks.

They drained their coffee and drank more and chatted about the school and plans for their day off and still, that smile never left Kurt's face.

While most of the local businesses had opted to take the day off after the town's festivities, the diner was still open. "People gotta eat!" Ray had told Kurt last night. Which meant that Blaine was still spending a few hours there, working on some tile work even at Ray's insistence that he take the day off. Because Blaine was just like that. A hard worker who constantly wanted to help his friends, his community. And yeah, Kurt was a little head over heels, but they didn't need to focus on that.

Regardless, as he'd promised Ray that he would stop by today, he walked in right around lunch time, surprised and simultaneously not at how busy they were at this time of day. Jo was working, an overly ecstatic smile blossoming on her face as she called out "Hey Kurt! Go ahead and squeeze in at the counter and I'll be right with you!"

As half of the counter was under construction, squeeze really was the perfect way to describe the way he wedged himself between the edge of the construction site and Twila, the small quiet mother of one of Darla's older students. He nodded a hello to her and she smiled tentatively back. Her husband, a huge, gregarious man named Mark or Mak (Kurt could never remember), reached a massive hand around and clapped him on the shoulder, a hardy laugh escaping him for no reason.

"Your boyfriend's in back; should be out soon!" Mark or Mac said, a wide grin on his face as he went back to demolishing a pork tenderloin sandwich.

Kurt felt a blush rising up his entire neck, certain that he must be a lovely shade of tomato at the moment. Fuck, news really did spread fast here. He should have assumed, considering people knew all about his injury before he even set foot in this town. But in a matter of 12 hours, they had found out that he and Blaine were...well, something? Or maybe it was merely the constant teasing they received since the inception of their friendship. Either way, Kurt couldn't find it in himself to be mad or embarrassed, not really. Not when Jo came by and he ordered a club sandwich and a Diet Coke, because fuck it, he was still tired and Jo winked at him before walking back to the kitchen. And certainly not when Blaine, a little sweaty and rumpled emerged from the back, eyes landing on Kurt as if drawn to him and a smile, private but powerful overtook his face.

"Hey you," Blaine said, standing on the other side of the counter, leaning forward on his forearms.

"Hey," Kurt said simply, smiling back at him.

"I was hoping you'd stop in," Blaine admitted, a pretty little blush coloring his cheeks.

Kurt shrugged like it was obvious, "Well, I promised Ray I'd visit, so,"

Blaine nodded, biting his lower lip to hold in his smile, "Well, we wouldn't want to disappoint Ray, now would we?"

Kurt smirked, "Wouldn't dream of it."

They stared at one another, mering really, Blaine leaning forward heavily on his forearms. Kurt sitting on a stool, chin propped in his hands. A whole diner moving around them in the middle of a lunch rush.

Kurt broke the silence finally, "Well, since you're here, do you have time for a lunch break?"

"Sure thing," Blaine replied, "Just let me wash up and I'll be right out." He pushed off the counter, took one step away and then paused as if thinking something over. He didn't need to think long before turning back around and saying, "Hey Hummel?"

Kurt looked up to find Blaine leaning further over the counter, a question in his eyes as they flicked down to his lips. Kurt just smiled because really, what else do you do in that situation?

Blaine leaned the last bit further over the counter and pressed his smile against Kurt's. It was decent, nothing obscene for a public space. But it was unbearably sweet and it sent shivers racing down Kurt's spine. Memories of last night flashed through his head, the heavy breathing , the sweat slicked skin, the delicious stretch of Blaine pushing into him. Kurt felt his hands twitch at his sides, desperate to grab Blaine and pull him closer, to consume him. But a few catcalls and wolf whistles broke through his haze and they broke apart to find the diner damn near bursting into applause.

Kurt smiled shyly, releasing Blaine who was now a brilliant shade of red.

After a lunch of stealing fries and not so shy glances, Ray had swept in, beaming when he saw Kurt there. He immediately set a slice of cheesecake - "on the house!" - in front of them with two forks, a sparkle in his eyes. The cheesecake may have also been a bit of a down payment for the advice he wanted from Kurt, regarding paint colors and trim.

And before Kurt knew it, an hour had passed, two pieces of cheesecake (because cheesecake just wasn't meant for sharing, no matter how good Blaine's lips looked wrapped around a fork as Kurt fed him, eyes dark) and Ray was putting his foot down.

"Blaine, I really appreciate your hard work but please, take the rest of the day off. You're already ahead of schedule." Ray said, giving him a stern yet soft frown. It seemed that no one in this town was able to really tell Blaine no.

Blaine squirmed a bit, but after sparing a long glance over on Kurt, he nodded, "Alright. But

at least let me finish up the box of tiles I'm on. I don't want to risk misplacing any of them." Ray nodded, shaking his hand like they'd just made a very important business deal instead of a forced half day.

Kurt, without having to ask, followed Blaine back into the kitchen. Ray had decided to treat his cooks to a bit of an updated work space as well, a thank you for so much hard work over the years. So Blaine had tried to minimize his impact by taking up as little space as possible, working in a small corner first, out of the way of the day to day grind.

"Once I get to the point where I need to branch out, I'll probably pull a few all nighters so I don't interrupt business. Since it's all cosmetic, there's really no reason for them to shut down the kitchen at any point in this process, not if I do it right at least." Blaine explained as he knelt down to pull a few more gleaming white subway tiles out of the mostly empty box.

Kurt nodded, watching as Blaine mixed up some bright blue grout and spread it in an even thickness on the wall. He worked assuredly, with precise movements and skilled hands.

"Good grout choice," Kurt joked, giving Blaine a teasing look.

Blaine smirked and shot him a matching glance. "Thanks. I don't know if you know this, but grout color is apparently paramount in any renovation."

"Oh really? I had no idea." Kurt deadpanned.

They lapsed into an easy silence until Blaine held out his tool and motioned for Kurt to step closer. "Come on, let me show you how to do one." And he did. He showed Kurt how much putty to use, how to spread it out evenly, make sure too much didn't squish out the sides when you pressed the tile firmly in place. They switched off, each one placing a tile and a tiny plastic spacer before handing things over to the other.

There wasn't a lot left in the box Blaine wanted to finish, so in no time, they were done and cleaning up Blaine's tools. They hauled them out to his truck, calling goodbyes to the patrons of the restaurant which had thinned to a manageable few stragglers. Those awkward hours between the lunch and dinner rush.

Wordlessly, they got in Blaine's truck and he steered them to the loft. They left all the tools in the truck bed, knowing he'd just need to repack them tomorrow anyways and wandered up the stairs with a purpose.

As soon as they were both off the stairs, Blaine was on him. Mouth hungry and eyes almost black. A guttural noise rasped from his throat as he squeezed out, "Kurt," Like it was the one thing he'd been wanting to say all day.

Kurt felt his heart pick up speed, galloping faster than he could keep up as his hands clawed at shirts and belts, desperate to feel that golden skin against his again. Finally, finally, he had Blaine naked and pressed against him and fuck, "You're so beautiful," he whispered because it's all he could think.

Blaine whimpered and pulled Kurt down on the bed. The noises he made sounding desperate and going straight to Kurt's cock. Kurt latched on to the shorter man's neck and bite, sucked, licked that glorious skin, hoping to leave his mark.

"Let me make you dinner tonight," He gasped, making actual words a huge struggle at the moment.

"What?" Blaine said, sounding fucked and puzzled all at once, he pulled back, looking down at Kurt with lust clouded eyes.

"Let me make you dinner tonight," Kurt repeated through his heavy breathing, eyes searching hazel, suddenly afraid that he'd ovestepped or said something wrong or misread thi-

"Okay," Blaine said, that familiar warmth taking over his entire face. He leaned back in, kissing Kurt slower this time. Just as deep but almost like he was trying to say something without words. The kiss was long and forced them to share their breaths instead of breaking apart. Blaine hummed, a sound of utter bliss.

"Kurt," He said, finally having to separate their lips. "Kurt, will you stay with me tonight?"

"Of course." Kurt responded because there was no use pretending that he needed to even think about it.

They didn't talk for a long time as they shed their underwear, as Blaine stretched Kurt slowly, carefully. They didn't talk when Blaine pushed in slowly, already such a familiar, natural feeling. They didn't speak as Blaine picked up speed, Kurt crying for more and more and more and Blaine giving him every single ounce of everything he had. They didn't talk when they cried out, coming in waves and shudders and riding through it together.

But finally, breathless and boneless and feeling like his entire body was tingling, Blaine said, "I'm really happy right now Kurt. I um...I really like you." He hid his burning face in Kurt's neck and Kurt just giggled.

"I really like you too." He said, feeling like it was the understatement of the century and something told him that Blaine felt the same.

After a few more hours in bed, some spent kissing lazily, some spent kissing passionately and some spent playing with fingers, combing through hair and talking, Kurt's phone rang. He hopped out of bed, finding his pants laying haphazardly on the floor and rescuing his phone from the pocket, ignoring Blaine's low whistle at Kurt's nakedness.

"Hello?" Kurt answered, sitting back on the edge of the bed. Blaine immediately slid over to him, wrapping his arms loosely around Kurt's waist and resting his chin on his shoulder.

"Darlin'! Hi!" Darla said, as if she was surprised Kurt had actually picked up. "Are you with Blaine right now?"

"Yes," Kurt gulped, feeling like a teenager caught in the act. Blaine chuckled and began kissing down his neck as Kurt swatted helplessly at him, trying to hide his arousal as he spoke to Darla, "Why? What's up?"

"Why don't you bring Blaine home with you for dinner tonight?" She asked, voice hopeful.

Kurt wasn't expecting that but it wasn't a bad idea; he'd already asked to cook dinner for Blaine tonight anyways, "Oh okay, sure. What time?"

"Oh whenever is fine." Darla said, "Just bring yourself and that beautiful boy of yours. I need to be properly introduced." He could hear the smile in her voice.

They hung up and Kurt twisted in Blaine's arms, finding his eyes. Blaine's eyes looked dreamy, as if lost in the most wonderful haze. His curls were wild, having been pulled so much in the past few hours that they'd lost some of their shape and began to friz. Kurt felt his heart melting as those kiss swollen lips smiled up at him.

"So, Darla has invited you over for dinner tonight. Is that okay with you?" Kurt asked, his hand reaching of its own volition to card through that thick mass of curls.

Blaine hummed at the feeling, "Yeah, sounds good to me."

Kurt nodded and sort of chuckled at himself a little, "I uh...I think Darla wants to "officially" meet you in, ya know...this new capacity." He chuckled again, feeling ridiculous.

"Oh and what capacity is this?" Blaine asked, smirking and tightening his arms around Kurt's middle.

"Oh, you know," Kurt said, feeling his face heating up, degree by degree by the moment.

Blaine's face softened as he took some pity on him. It was all there, even if they didn't know how to say it. "Yeah, I know." He said quietly, moving in to kiss Kurt slowly and solidly.

Ever so softly, he heard Blaine sing, "Honey, it's okay you're afraid of fallin', you'd don't have to say it out loud…" His voice trailing off, eyes still closed and forehead leaning on Kurt's. It was the song they'd danced to before leaving the fourth of July party just the night before. It felt like years ago, like they'd always been this way.

Kurt, eyes closed because it was still a little too scary to admit it, finished the line, "But you know…"

Blaine hummed, as if answering Kurt and kissed him again. And again.

"How much time do we have until we need to get going?" Blaine asked, already pushing Kurt back down on the mattress.

"As much time as we need," Kurt replied, relishing in the sound of those words on his tongue, knowing that eventually they'd be a lie.

Dinner at Darla's was delicious, if Kurt did say so himself, and only the slightest bit awkward. Blaine had been charming as always and Darla, having known Blaine most of his life, was already sufficiently charmed. And once Kurt got over how surreal all of this felt - standing at the stove with Blaine's arms around his waist, chin propped on his shoulder, chatting with Darla about the bathroom reno - it turned out that this was possibly the most comfortable he'd ever been in his own skin.

He saw the way Blaine's movements were easy and sure, no hesitation. Just like when they'd been friends. Which, Kurt realized fully, that they still were. They always would be, of that he was certain. He allowed himself to melt into the moment, filling it up and letting it fill him.

The three of them shoved into the too small kitchen table, knees knocking together and sides pressed close, a happy little bubble of family. Darla made a joke that Blaine should be careful with who he was playing footsie with and Blaine complimented Kurt's braised salmon and Kurt wiped a bit of salad dressing from the corner of Blaine's mouth. It felt practiced or tradition, like dinners together were normal. The family he'd found.

Darla damn near had to challenge Blaine to a duel to get him to let her do the dishes. "You boys go out on the front porch and make out or whatever while I get the kitchen cleaned up!" She'd finally said and that had led Blaine to acquiesce rather graciously and lead a giggling Kurt out the front door.

Sure enough, when Darla emerged a good fifteen minutes later, Kurt was perched on Blaine's lap, rocking gently in the chair and trading soft kisses. Her laugh had broken their kiss, but Blaine had kept his arms tightly woven around Kurt and the three of them had sat in the disappearing light of day, sipping ice cold beers and breathing deep the summer air. They chatted about the movie theater and if they would do their annual Rocky Horror Picture Show feature. They discussed the diner renovation and what was next for the dance school students. They lapsed into comfortable silence, only the sound of frogs croaking and crickets chirping to fill the porch.

It reminded Kurt of the first night he'd spent in town, marveling at the relative seclusion of this house, of this entire town. How hot and sticky and unbearable he'd found it, sure that he'd spend the entire summer covered in sweat and drowning in humidity. Miserable and aching and terrified.

But here he was, on that same porch with Darla, sitting on the lap of a gorgeous man who hummed show tunes under his breath when he worked and had ventured high and low for a bagel that could rival New York's. A man who snuggled with such vulnerability at night that it just made Kurt want to get him back in bed to see if he'd do it again. A man who owned a secret house, beloved by all but, as Kurt was learning, not really known by very many. Charming and private, he'd let Kurt in and Kurt felt all of his barriers fall at a flash of that bright smile and brighter eyes.

Kurt stretched his legs, feeling the barest hint of a dull pain beginning to seep in. He honestly wasn't too surprised, he'd been pushing himself pretty hard the last few days. Blaine must have noticed the barely there wince that the stretch caused and he leaned in to whisper into his ear, "You okay?"

Kurt nodded, looking down at him. "Yeah, just a little sore. I should probably get up and walk around a bit. Sometimes if I catch it really early, I can sort of work it out." Kurt didn't mention that this only worked half of the time. The other half had nearly immobilized him in the past. But life was all about risks, he supposed.

Blaine nodded and patted the side of Kurt's thigh, a signal to stand. He did with a little effort.

"We're gonna walk to Anna's and get some ice cream," Blaine explained as he stretched his arms up over his head, twisting at his lower back until it popped, "Do you want us to bring anything back for you?"

Darla smiled and stood, gathering their beer bottles. "I would love it, but in all honesty, I'll probably be asleep by the time you'd get back. You boys have fun." She said, smiling at them as she patted both of their shoulders. "Oh, Kurt?" She thought to ask, already halfway in the house. The boys turned around, already down the porch steps and in the yard. "Will you be coming home tonight?" She didn't say it with a smirk or a chuckle or a gleam in her eye. It was a simple question.

So Kurt gave her a simple answer, "No, I think I'll stay with Blaine." He glanced at Blaine, hoping he'd made the right call. Based on his expression, he'd done just fine.

"Alright then," Darla said, a smile spreading over her face. "I'll see you at the school tomorrow then." And with that, she disappeared inside, screen door slapping closed behind her.

Their first few minutes of walking were a bit slow, Kurt trying to be careful and cautious, feeling out his body. And Blaine, ever patient, just matched his pace, fingers loosely tangled between them .

"Your legs seem to have been doing better lately," Blaine said casually.

Kurt nodded in agreement, "They have. The pain isn't as constant as it was even a few weeks ago. And when the pain does show up, it's milder now." He let out a big sigh. "I actually go back to the doctor next week for a check up."

"You nervous?" Blaine asked, giving his hand a light squeeze.

Kurt nodded a little, "Yeah. Last time, well, you remember last time. It's just hard to hear that there isn't any news. I don't even want to think about...if I got um...bad news."

"Hey, hey," Blaine said, pulling Kurt closer and letting go of his hand in favor of slinging his arm around his waist. "You're not going to get bad news."

"You can't promise that," Kurt said, suddenly aware that he was unsure what the bad news was anymore. Was it that he'd be broken forever, relegated to a danceless life of chronic pain? Or would it be the knowledge that he was cleared? That his job was waiting for him over 1,000 miles away?

"No, I can't." Blaine agreed, "But I can promise that no matter what, we'll face it together."

Kurt didn't say it but he was pretty sure that Blaine couldn't promise that either.

The next few days melted into one long string of waking up in Blaine's arms and lingering kisses before he absolutely had to get to the school and Blaine to the diner. It was dreamy, hazy, happy dance classes filled with excited kids who hugged his healing legs like it was going out of style. Like their touch was what was mending him. And who knows, maybe it was. It was a session of physical therapy that left him feeling strong and unbeatable instead of weak and beaten.

It was a week of meeting Blaine at the diner for lunch and chatting with the town as they filtered through. It was Ray's jubilant smile every time he crossed the threshold and impromptu double dates with Cliff and Jo. It was legs that carried him to the diner and home with Blaine, no questions asked. Legs that stumbled to the bed, every night, hands hungry for more. A void that would never be filled.

It was Blaine's shy smile one night, very very late, or possibly very very early, naked and breathing still in the process of slowly coming down from another mind bending orgasm that Blaine asked if he wanted some wine because it was Friday (or maybe Saturday morning?) and they both had the next day off.

It was when Blaine said, glasses in hand, sitting shamelessly nude on top of the damp blankets, that the diner would be done by next week. Kurt asked what the next project was and Blaine said he didn't have one.

Kurt quirked an eyebrow, "But you always have a project." He said, knowing that being the town's only handyman and beloved child star kept him constantly in demand.

And Blaine had just taken a sip of wine and nodded in agreement before looking up through those dark lashes and saying, "I don't want a project. I figured I'd just take the rest of the summer off." He looked at Kurt heavily, significance drenching every word.

"Can you do that? Like, can you um, afford to do that?" Kurt asked, more as a way to distract

from his hammering heart.

Blaine simply nodded, knowing what this was. A divergence; a distraction; a change of subject. "I can. It's more that I couldn't afford not to." That heaviness still in his eyes.

Kurt just leaned forward and kissed him, soundly on the lips "Blaine," He breathed. "Blaine, I-".

"I know Kurt, I know," Blaine said.

Because he knew it and Kurt knew it. But Kurt loved him more than saying the words. Because saying the words would surely kill him. It would kill them both.

So he just settled for saying his name, over and over, getting drunk off of it and trying to drown out the other mantra in his head. The one that said:

6 weeks left, 6 weeks left, 6 weeks…

A/N: The word of the day is bittersweet, isn't it? Please don't forget to review, follow and/or favorite so you don't miss the next chapter. See ya'll on Saturday!