Author's Note:

This chapter is from our Kurt's point of view again, and it's mostly fluff :-) Enjoy!

Do tell me what you're thinking, I love chatting with my readers!

Chapter 14: If They Come Back to You It Was Meant to Be

Kurt woke up alone, and for a moment, he wondered if he'd just dreamt that Blaine had come home with him and had spent the night in his bed.

Then, he heard someone singing in the kitchen, and his lips curved into a smile.

Blaine was here, and he meant to stay for a while. And although Kurt knew this was only going to worsen his crush, he couldn't help but look forward to more days and evenings of delightful company.

Though it was Sunday, he didn't lounge in bed for another few hours. No. He got up at once and got dressed in five minutes flat, eager to spend more time with Blaine.

Blaine was making them both breakfast, he found out. It smelled amazing, and Kurt's stomach growled.

"What do you have in there, a tiger?" Blaine laughed, and he handed Kurt a mug of coffee. "The eggs are almost done."

Kurt took an experimental sip. The coffee was exactly as he liked it. "You remember how I take my coffee?"

"Of course I do!" Blaine said with a wink, and Kurt's heart fluttered. Oh, he had it bad!

Kurt's good mood was ruined when Blaine told him he wanted to go see The Dalton.

Is he trying to go back to his own time, now that he's got a body again and is more or less healed? That's not going to work, you know.

When he tentatively voiced his concerns, Blaine denied wanting to go back in time. He did not say why he wanted to see The Dalton, though.

Figuring he'd find out soon enough, Kurt arranged a ride for them, and saw Blaine's eyes widen as he took in the ruins of what had been a splendid hotel.

Then Blaine moved with a purpose, heading inside the hotel. Seriously? The guy was just out of hospital, still hopping about on crutches, but he chose to go inside derelict buildings that could end up crumbling on top of him?

Cool as a cucumber, Blaine went inside the ballroom, hopped a few steps up the staircase to inspect the chandelier and checked if the banister was still sturdy. Thankfully, it was.

And then, at last, he revealed the reason for all this insanity. He wanted to buy The Dalton! And maybe the rest of the street too!

Before he knew it, Kurt found himself in an old tailor's shop, looking at a vintage Singer sewing machine that made his fingers itch to use it.

There was also fabric, bolts upon bolts of expensive fabric that had apparently remained untouched for years.

If Blaine did end up buying the whole street, Kurt resolved to ask him before the renovations started if he could have the sewing machine and the fabric. They were too valuable to be thrown away.

In the weeks that followed, Blaine was very busy. From what Kurt gathered, he was negotiating with the owner of the street he wanted to buy, and on the verge of acquiring it at a bargain price. Well, what a multi-millionaire considered a bargain. The price he quoted to Kurt was astronomical, but apparently, Blaine could afford it if he sold the real estate he owned now.

Kurt, who considered himself rich because he owned an (albeit small) apartment in New York City, couldn't help gaping at Blaine as he summed up his properties in the US and abroad.

"Why would you want to sell all of those for a run-down street you'll have to renovate from top to bottom?"

Blaine shrugged. "I might not have to sell all of them. It depends on how much they go for. You never know that beforehand."

"Could you keep the apartment in Paris?" Kurt said. "I've always wanted to go to Paris."

Blaine laughed. "We'll see."

Blaine was stressed about the penthouse where Sebastian still lived, and contacted lawyers about it. In the end, though, the problem solved itself when Sebastian died in a car accident.

Though this must have come as a relief to Blaine, it upset him as well, and he behaved weirdly the evening they found out on the news and the day after.

Kurt chalked it up to conflicted feelings about Sebastian, and never imagined it could have anything to do with him.

You could have knocked him down with a feather when while they were talking about Blaine moving out, Blaine suddenly segued into a love declaration.

As soon as Kurt had regained his aplomb, he asked if Blaine wasn't still in love with his great-grandfather. He felt bad about questioning Blaine's sincerity, but he just had to know. Was he a consolation prize? Someone Blaine would make do with since he couldn't have the real thing and therefore contented himself with a knock-off?

But then Blaine summed up a litany of things he loved about Kurt, and yes, each and every one of them was Kurt to the core. So it was really him Blaine wanted!

It made Kurt so happy that his eyes swam with tears, and his throat was so dry all of a sudden that he could barely choke out that he loved Blaine too.

A little later, Kurt was lying in bed, all strung out because Blaine was mapping out every nook and cranny of his body, and it turned him on so much he could hardly stand it, except for the places where it tickled.

The first time he giggled, he took a pillow and pressed it against his face in mortification, but Blaine was quick to take it away.

"Hey… I like hearing your sounds, whatever they are," Blaine said softly. "I don't want you to feel self-conscious around me."

So Kurt stopped holding back, and enjoyed Blaine's caresses wholeheartedly.

He'd had sex before, but it had never felt this intense before. This was not merely about getting off. Kurt could feel Blaine's love in every touch, and it electrified him.

They took hours exploring each other, and only stopped because they were too hungry to carry on.

That night, Kurt slept better than he ever had before, and he woke up as he'd gone to sleep: in Blaine's arms.

K&B

The renovations took ages. To all intents and purposes, it felt like Blaine had moved out most days, because he was hardly ever at home.

Every weekday, Blaine was gone by the time Kurt woke up, and he returned after Kurt had come home from work.

Even then, after dinner, Blaine would spend hours poring over plans until Kurt insisted on them spending some quality time together.

Sometimes, though, Blaine brought home interesting finds. While restoring an old photographer's shop, he found tons of old negatives and photographs, among which photos of his family – and Kurt's.

"Look, that's my mom, and that's my brother Cooper and his bride Amanda."

"Oh wow, he's handsome!" Kurt exclaimed.

Blaine pouted. "Not you too!"

"What?"

"My mom would always call me the sweet one, and Cooper the handsome one."

Kurt kissed Blaine on the nose. "You are both sweet and handsome. And you look super cute in that photograph."

"Nice save," Blaine grumbled, but it did make him smile.

"Oh, these are my great-grandparents' wedding photos!" Kurt exclaimed after rummaging a bit further in the pile. "Look! Oh, doesn't Lieselotte look gorgeous! And if I didn't know any better, I'd have sworn my great-grandfather was madly in love. Look at those two, aww!"

"And this is a family picture with their first child," Blaine pointed out.

"My grandfather Devon. Oh, look, there's one with his sister Martha as well! Oh, this is great. I barely have any pictures of the Hummels."

Kurt found more photos of the growing family.

A family picture taken at another wedding – maybe a cousin of his great-grandfather's? The groom had distinct Hummel features, and on the back was written 'Wedding Jeremy and Eloise Hummel'.

The christening of another child he didn't know the existence of, let alone the name.

"This child must have died," he said sadly. "Is the name mentioned anywhere?"

And yes, it was, on the back. "Christening of Gertrude Hummel."

"So that's why great-aunt Martha named her daughter Gertie," Kurt concluded.

Devon's and Martha's wedding pictures were in the pile as well, and, "Oh, look, this is one with my father!"

And yes, there was Burt Hummel in a frilly christening gown and quite as bald as he'd been when Kurt was a teenager.

"This is lovely! I'm going to put these in my photo album!"

As Kurt had said, he didn't have many photos of his family. Just the one album, with one picture of his grandparents from his father's side, a few pictures of his parents and then some photos of Kurt as a baby, toddler and kindergartener. His mother had been the one taking the pictures, so there were none after she died, except for school portraits and one picture of Kurt in his prom finery. That was it.

Kurt added the 'new' pictures to the album and admired them some more.

"I'm so happy to have these. Thanks, Blaine!"

Blaine, who was thumbing through photographs of his own family, looked up with a sweet smile. "You're very welcome."

The next nice surprise was when Blaine came home with a folder full of fashion designs drawn by Kurt's great-grandfather.

They came from the tailor's shop Kurt had already gotten the vintage sewing machine and the fabric from. On the folder was written "Mrs. Hummel", and on the back of every design was a detailed sewing pattern, clearly drawn by the tailor.

"He designed clothes for his wife," Kurt said. "How sweet is that?"

"Not just for his wife, there are designs for his children at the back of the folder."

Kurt studied each design carefully. "These are beautiful. And the drawings are so lifelike. My great-grandfather was quite the artist."

They got more confirmation of this when Blaine started restoring the antique shop, and brought home several portraits painted by Kurt's great-grandfather.

"Apparently, he painted portraits as a side job?" Blaine mused. "There's one of the tailor in front of his shop, one of my former boss in front of The Dalton, and here's another of the butcher in the street where I lived. But this one is the most special."

He handed Kurt a painting of a little girl, so absorbed in playing with her doll that she didn't seem to notice she was being observed. Her hair shone like bright gold in the sunshine, her smile made dimples in her cheeks, and in every aspect, she looked like a mini Lieselotte.

"Is this…?"

Blaine nodded, and yes, when Kurt looked at the inscription, it said, "In loving memory of Gertrude Hummel, gone too soon but not forgotten".

"She looks so sweet!" said Kurt. "How sad that she died as a child."

Blaine hummed pensively. "These days you can get vaccinated against all sorts of diseases, but in my time, those vaccines didn't exist. Plenty of children died. Nearly every family I knew had lost one or more children, to the measles, or polio, or something like that. That was just the way things were."

Kurt looked at the portrait some more, noting the details. "I can't help but think I've seen another painting in this style. Back in Ohio, when my dad was still alive. Where did I see it? Oh, it will come to me."

And yes, a few hours later, he remembered that it was a woman's portrait that had hung in the living room of the house where he'd grown up, next to a few other paintings.

"I've no idea what happened to them," he said to Blaine. "When I left Ohio, I sold not just the house, but everything in it that was too big or not useful to me. The only keepsakes I took with me to remind me of my parents were my photo album, a perfume bottle that used to be my mother's and a ballcap that my father always wore. And of course the Hummel rose brooch."

"Maybe I can find them again, through the internet," Blaine said.

But the next portrait they found wasn't anyone from the Hummel family. It was Blaine's.

They found it at the penthouse. It had been sold, and therefore had to be emptied by the end of the month. Blaine had asked Kurt to come along and help him decide what to keep, what to put in storage and what to sell, donate or throw away.

After a quick tour of the place, Kurt of course focused on the clothes and shoes first, and methodically sorted them into piles.

It wasn't until he heard Blaine call him that he broke out of his concentration and went to look for his boyfriend.

Blaine was sitting in front of an open suitcase, and looked white as a sheet.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, running a comforting hand over his back.

"Look," was all Blaine said.

In the suitcase, wrapped in mounds of tissue paper, was a painting. It showed Blaine as he had looked the first time Kurt had ever seen him, performing while Kurt danced with Lieselotte.

"Is this…?"

"Yes. It's me. Painted by him. When did he do this? Why did he do this?"

Kurt's eyes spotted what looked like a letter underneath the painting. He fished it out carefully and read it out loud.

"Hey my little bumblebee,

You asked me about the family member you're named after a short while ago.

Well, I was looking for something in the attic the other day when I came across this portrait. Doesn't it look just like you? But it was painted in the 1920s, if I go by the signature. By the guy who was suspected of being that Blaine's secret lover, no less. Isn't that something? They must have truly loved each other.

And you say the boy you met in the park is also named Kurt Hummel? Maybe it's fate, honey. You're not happy with Sebastian, and you haven't been for quite some time. Maybe you should break with the Smythe family and come back home for a while. And maybe you should keep finding ways to see Kurt again. From what you tell me he's a sweet boy, buying you coffee and all.

I want you to be happy, sweetheart. Follow your heart and do what will make you happy.

All my love,

Mom"

Blaine muffled a curse, put his hands over his eyes and cried.

Kurt sat down too and hugged Blaine from behind, drawing him against his chest and gently playing with his curls until he quieted.

"So-sorry…" Blaine hiccupped.

"That's all right. You've gone through a lot lately. It's bound to catch up with you sooner or later. Just let it all out, and I'm here for you if you need to talk. Or a cuddle. Or anything, really."

But Blaine took no notice of Kurt's babbling. He was too focussed on the painting.

So Kurt shut up and examined it too. His great-grandfather was a master at capturing a person's essence. This really was Blaine to the core, performing a song with everything he had in him, tuning anything else out.

He noted all the little details, all the care and attention that had been lavished on this portrait, and ended up blurting out, "He really did love you."

That made Blaine look up, his eyes wide and hopeful. "You think?"

Kurt nodded, and Blaine burst out into tears again.

There was nothing Kurt could do except hold him and pepper little kisses onto his head every now and then.

At long last, the sobs subsided, and Blaine started to apologise again.

"No need to apologise, I understand," said Kurt. "You never had any real closure. And this… This is bringing it home to you, once again, that you're stuck in some other time and will never see him again. That's… a lot to deal with. But at least you know that he loved you. You have this as proof. I think you should hang it somewhere in the hotel, when you're done renovating it."

This time around, Blaine did listen. "That's a good idea. Bringing the portrait home, so to speak."

Kurt started humming "Bring Him Home", and before he knew it, Blaine was singing along while waltzing with him through the penthouse.

Blaine dipped Kurt for the grand finale, and kissed him as soon as he'd pulled him upright again. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For knowing just what I need at any given moment. You're wonderful."

"So are you, Mr. Anderson. But now we have some sorting and packing to do, or we'll never get this done in time!"