Over the next few days, Kurt feels like he exists in some kind of daydream. Predictably, Anna and Meredith are upset when he first tells them he's moving out, but they brighten considerably when Blaine offers them his downtown apartment and immediately start making plans even though they can't move for another month.

Kurt, however, moves right away. It's not that he's anxious to leave the tiny apartment he's come to think of as home, more that he's just desperate to be with Blaine as much as he possibly can, because if he had thought they were in love before, it's nothing compared with how it is now.

He has Blaine's family to thank for it, because the way they were with him finally opened Blaine's eyes to just how much he was loved, not only by Kurt, but by his dad and granny, as well as by Anna and Meredith, whom he thinks of as family too. It's like a cloud has been lifted; even though the meal with his parents had been awful, it gave him the courage to open his heart to Kurt, and in turn, he is loving, attentive, happy, and upbeat.

Of course, he's still the same old Blaine as well, which is exactly what makes Kurt love him so much. He grouches and moans about every item of furniture Kurt brings into the apartment, and nearly has a total fit when he comes home from a meeting to discover a wall of framed photos hanging in the hallway, but Kurt knows he secretly loves it.

True to his word, Blaine cuts his housekeepers down to three days a week. He still pays them the same, since they've been dedicated to him for so long, and they both nearly cry with gratitude. He also teaches Kurt how to use the music system, how to work the shower, and how the curtains and lights are all programmed. After that, he runs out of patience and tells him he'll have to figure out the rest on his own.

It turns out that Roy is neither programmed, or a magical being. Rather, Blaine dictates instructions into his phone, which then sends a message to Roy, and that is how he always knows when to pick up, and where to go. It's just that Blaine does it so subtly that Kurt has always missed it. It makes no difference, anyway. Kurt flatly refuses to be driven to work, and he absolutely won't hear of driving one of Blaine's sports cars because he's not going to even attempt parking on the streets of Manhattan. So he takes the subway, much to Blaine's chagrin.

Kurt knows Blaine would like it if he gave up his job altogether, but he's not doing that. It's weird enough to no longer be paying any rent, or utilities, so the least he can do is work so he has his own money somehow. Anyway, he enjoys it. Blaine often stops in, since the New York News offices are right around the corner, and those are the shifts he likes the best. He also likes going home to him, where Blaine will be sitting in his office, writing. He knows that if the door is shut, it means stay away, but more often than not it is open, and Blaine is waiting with kisses, ready to talk about their respective days.

"I heard something today," Kurt says one afternoon, ten days after he's moved in. "Apparently Frank Fisher is trying to get funding for a new show, in Chicago."

"Is he?"

Blaine is nonchalant about it, and Kurt feels a little bit disappointed, but he doesn't let it show. "Yeah."

"Hmm. How about you start focusing on your own career, instead of worrying about a jerk like him?"

"I work!"

Blaine closes his laptop, and looks over the top of his glasses to where Kurt stands in the doorway. "You know what I mean, so don't play dumb. You haven't called your agent back, and I know she called you twice yesterday, at least. You're an actor, Kurt, not a barista."

"I was, but I don't know if that's what I even want to do anymore," he lies.

"Really? Well, if it's not, then decide what it is you do want to get out of life, please, because I doubt your father dreamed of you working four days a week in a coffee shop, and it's certainly not what I envisioned any partner of mine would do."

"You didn't envision you'd have a partner," Kurt points out.

"True." Coming around to the front of his desk, Blaine holds his hands out, and waits patiently until Kurt sullenly comes over and takes them. "Don't sulk at me. I want you to achieve your dreams and then reach for even bigger ones, that's all. You said you'd let me help you, right? Come with me to this opening tonight."

"What is it?"

"I don't even know."

"Then why are you going?"

"No, that's the name of the play. Some musical about high school kids. It'll flop, but what the hell. There will be a lot of high profile directors there because it's Arthur McKay's nephew directing it, and his granddaughter is in the cast."

"Oh, I wonder who could be funding that then?"

"Right? Come on. It'll be a night out, if nothing else. I'll wear my glasses."

"I wish I'd never told you that," Kurt says, laughing. "Yeah okay, I'll come."

The show is enjoyable, but Kurt feels a pang of regret while watching. Around the time he'd taken the part in Frank's awful play, there had been an open call for chorus members for a musical set in high school. He'd barely given the announcement a second glance, but now he wishes he had. Blaine is right, it will probably flop, but it will still play a three month run on Broadway, and it certainly looks to be a whole lot more fun than the Life of Riley Morton.

All the cast are around the same age as him, and there's a lot of them, too. The reception is held in the bar next door to the theatre and Kurt stands by Blaine's side, watching as they all come piling in, high on adrenaline and excitement.

It's less than two minutes before Blaine is approached by one of the leads. Skinny, with blond hair, blue eyes and blindingly white teeth, he shamelessly sidles up to Blaine at the bar, either not seeing or not caring about his arm around Kurt's waist.

"I know who you are," he says, smiling up at him.

Blaine stares back coolly. "Really? I have absolutely no idea who you are."

"Jamie Thomas." He offers his hand. "I played Freddie? I hope you enjoyed the show."

"Too sickly sweet for me," Blaine snaps. "I found it intensely annoying."

"Still, lots of nubile young men up there, eh?" he jokes, resting a hand on his arm. "Including me."

"Meet my partner, Kurt," Blaine says. His voice is flat, hard, cold. "And then tell me if you think I'd be interested in anyone else."

Kurt turns away, grabbing a glass of champagne to hide his smirk. The boy flounders for a moment, looks over his shoulder, and then back to Blaine. "I mean, if you're into sharing then I could go with that."

"I am not! Fuck off," Blaine says, giving him a firm shove in the chest. "Whatever it is you've heard about me, you're way off the mark. I am decidedly taken, and no amount of flirting is going to make my review any more favorable. Come on, Kurt. Let's go and see Arthur."

"Well, you shut him down," Kurt says happily as they walk across the bar. "That was hot. To hear you say you're taken."

Blaine stops, his anger giving way to an indulgent smile. He pulls Kurt close, not caring about the very public setting, and kisses his neck, just above his collar. "I'm yours, Kurt."

"Ha! Quit with that." He smacks his chest lightly, then wraps his arms around his neck. "I love you."

"I love you too and just so you know? I don't think any of that cast are as nubile, and sexy, and flexible as you are."

Kurt throws his head back and laughs, forgetting all about being there to meet connections and influential people. His heart and his head are filled with Blaine, and he loves every second.

"Blaine!"

"Arthur! Hi, good to see you again." Though he releases Kurt to shake Arthur's hand, he quickly holds him tight around the waist again as soon as he's able. "You remember Kurt, right? He came with me to Cats opening."

"Of course!" He shakes Kurt's hand warmly, then looks at Blaine with a wink. "Second date, eh?"

"Bit more than that. He's moved in."

"Oh! Wonderful!" Arthur claps his hands together in delight. "You've tamed Anderson, young man. How brave. How noble."

"It's not an easy task," Kurt teases. "But I'm enjoying it."

"Lovely. Come, meet Harry, my nephew. What did you make of his directorial debut, huh? Wasn't he great?"

Harry turns around, flashing a smile as he's introduced to Kurt. He brightens considerably when he then meets Blaine and his uncle explains who he is. "Mr Anderson. I hope you enjoyed the show."

"Not my thing. Some good moments, but not outstanding. If I were you, I'd shorten the run, workshop it again then take it out on tour. It could do well; parents are more likely to take their kids to a regional show than travel to Broadway."

"Uh..."

"I liked it," Kurt says, nudging Blaine in the ribs. "Ignore him."

"He can't ignore me," Blaine says smugly. "I'm writing the review."

"Actually, I think you have a valid point," Arthur booms, patting Blaine on the back. "Harry, I'll talk to you about it at some point. Good to see you, Blaine. You too, Kurt. Glad you're so happy. Love to the parents."

Left alone again, Blaine grabs two glasses of champagne and hands one to Kurt, raising his own in a toast. "To the most beautiful man here tonight."

"You are so rude."

"That was a compliment!"

"Not to me, to that poor guy! This is the biggest night of his life, and you just took the wind right out of his sails."

"Then he shouldn't ask my opinion, because I'm going to give it."

"I noticed."

Blaine grins. He leans close, kissing him right on the lips. "God, I'm crazy for you," he whispers. "I mean it, Kurt. You're the most beautiful guy here and I'm so proud that I get to go home with you each and every night."

Kurt stares deep into his eyes, unable to voice the happiness he feels at hearing those words. Instead, he brings his hand to the back of his neck and kisses him again, slowly, tantalisingly, and when he pulls back he smiles softly. "I'm looking forward to home time too."

"Oh my..."

"Blaine?"

They part reluctantly and Kurt turns to see a large but short lady, dressed head to toe in red, including her glasses and hair, holding her arms out. "Oh my word, Blaine Anderson!" she cries.

Blaine certainly seems pleased to see her, if the warm embrace and kiss on the cheek is anything to go by. "Sally!" He holds her at arm's length and smiles. "It's been so long! Goodness. How are you?"

"I am well, young man. Very well. But you, my dear boy... You! I thought it was you but then I reasoned it couldn't be, since this man is so loved up and happy!"

"Ah." He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed, and then takes Kurt's hand, pulling him forward. "Sally, this is Kurt Hummel. And yes, loved up would be right. We've just moved in together. Kurt, meet Sally Jones. We worked together in London and then Paris, where Sally still lives with her husband, Roger."

"Oh my goodness but you're adorable!" Sally doesn't shake the hand Kurt offers, but hugs him instead, kissing both his cheeks. "But also insane, I fear, living with this grump?"

"Ha! Well, he's quite a softie underneath," he says, beaming. "Unless he's reviewing the show you're in."

"Oh, you've been on the receiving end, have you? Yes, he's cruel. But good. Damn good."

"What brings you to Broadway, Sally?" Blaine asks, handing them all yet another drink.

"Well, darling boy, I'm branching out. After all these years, I've finally decided to get my play staged."

"Really? The one I read at least fifteen years ago?"

"Yes, and don't be rude otherwise I won't tell you anymore about it. I'd like to direct it, but Roger says I'm mad, so we're thinking of doing it together, and we thought it might be nice to come stateside for a while. We haven't worked here since eighty three, before we had the kids."

"Wow. So you're scouting venues, producers? Is Roger with you?"

"That I am, and no, he's not. He flies in the day after tomorrow. He's a set designer," she explains to Kurt. "And he's working right now. Blaine, have you really, truly landed this gorgeous young man?"

"Yes I have," he says, grinning at Kurt. "He's amazing."

"He must be, to make you smile like that. Are you going to introduce him to the parents?"

"I already did."

"Okay. Enough said, I feel," Sally says, looking between the pair of them. "I'm sorry, Blaine."

"Yeah, me too," he says quietly, then he smiles brightly, grabs more champagne, and raises his glass. "To you, and your new play."

Kurt instantly adores Sally. It's obvious that she's the closest Blaine has to a true friend, and it appears that during their time working together, he told her all about his issues with his parents and brother. She is bright, funny, and not afraid to put Blaine exactly in his place. She tells Kurt more about her play; a musical focused on two sisters separated at birth, and raised in very different circumstances. Kurt finds himself fascinated with the storyline, and able to offer some insight into the close bond siblings can share. He finds himself talking freely and happily about him and Logan, for the first time since his death. There's no sadness or despair, only total joy as he recounts all the times they'd helped each other out.

Blaine doesn't introduce him to anyone else that night, but Kurt doesn't care. He finds he wants to be in Sally's company, to hear about her children and her brand new grandson, only two weeks old. He is completely captivated and as a result, neither him nor Blaine notice how much they've had to drink, until Sally bids them both goodnight, with promises to keep in touch, and Blaine stands ready to take Kurt home.

"Woah!" He reels slightly, and gives a hard shake of his head. "Okay then."

"Blaine?"

He blinks, and seems to stare off into the distance. "I'm drunk," he says in amazement. "Like really giddy drunk."

"Ha!" Kurt stands, totally ready to tease him endlessly, but he can't. The room is spinning and he finds himself clutching Blaine's arm for support. "Uh-oh."

"Do you wanna summon Roy?"

"Ooh." Kurt's face lights up. "Yes please." He grabs his phone, tells it to send Roy and that they want to go home, and then they head outside. The evening is warm, but the air is still cooler than it was in the bar and they feel a little steadier as they wait. "I like Sally."

"She's great," Blaine agrees, holding Kurt close. "It's just a shame her play is an all female cast, otherwise I'd push her to audition you. But still. Maybe when Roger arrives we could all go out to dinner?"

"I'd like that. Know what else I like?"

"Me?"

"Got it in one." He grins, sliding his hands up under Blaine's suit jacket. "You know, now you dress like a normal person most of the time, when you wear a suit, it makes you look even hotter."

"Normal person." He rolls his eyes, then takes his glasses from his pocket and puts them on.

"Oh fuck."

"Are you a horny drunk, Kurt?"

"You are..." He breaks off, playfully hitting Blaine until he captures his wrists, pins them behind his back, and kisses him. "I hate you," Kurt says, and sticks his tongue out for good measure. "Hey, where's Roy?"

"Dunno. Send for him again."

"Roy!" Kurt bellows into his phone. "Roy! Come pick us up!"

"Oh wow. You're really drunk," Blaine says, taking his phone. "You have to instruct your phone to text Roy, and I don't think your phone is called Roy, is it?"

"Oh. No it's not. Liza Minnelli."

"What?" Blaine stares, rolling his eyes when he realizes Kurt is entirely serious. "Fine. Liza Minnelli, tell Roy to pick us up, please." He hands the phone back. "You're insane." But he's grinning, and Kurt is giggling uncontrollably.

"Blaine?" he says when he's calmed down a little. "Take your glasses off, so I can make out with you really hard."

Blaine looks up and down the street, busy with people heading home after a night out. "Here?"

"Right here."

Blaine stumbles under the force of Kurt's embrace, but he catches him and then pins him up against the side of the bar, both of them overcome with drunken lust. It's messy, it's giggly, but it's hot, and Roy has to shout several times when he pulls up, before they finally take notice and stagger to the car, still locked together.

They make out the entire ride home, giving no thought to Roy, who is subjected to endless moans of pleasure, and "yes, there," and "I'm going to take you the second we get through the door." They keep at it in the elevator too, both of them now devoid of ties and with several shirt buttons undone. When they finally make it into the apartment, Blaine does indeed take Kurt right there and then, against the wall in the hallway.

Their clothes stay on the hall floor, exactly where they've left them, and they wearily fall into bed, wrapped up in one another and blissfully happy after a perfect evening.

Kurt wakes to the sound of the phone. Blaine is absent from the bed, though that is nothing new, so he pulls on his briefs and staggers across the room to answer it, a sharp pain in his head making itself known. "Yes?"

"Mr Hummel? It's the concierge. I have Mr Anderson here. He wants to know if he can come up."

"What? Why? He has a key."

"No, sir, he doesn't."

"Ugh, idiot. He's probably hungover. Send him up."

Falling back on the bed, he makes the most of the precious few moments before the knock comes and he stamps his way into the hall. "You're a fool, Blaine Anderson," he says, stepping over their abandoned clothes. "But I love you." He pulls open the door, and then his face drops.

"Hey Kurt." Cooper smiles hesitantly, then politely averts his eyes away from him standing there in his underwear. "Is Blaine home? I need to talk with him about dad."