"You said yes, right? Tell me you said yes!"

Kurt gently loosens the death grip Blaine has on the tops of his arms, and looks down at the sheets. "I said..."

"Kurt!"

"I said yes on the understanding Meredith and Anna accept...and I really hope they do!" he shouts, grabbing Blaine's hands. "Because I really want to do it and it'll be off-Broadway and it'll be working for someone I really like, and she'll respect me and...and I really, really want to do it!"

He doesn't get to say anything else, because his phone rings, and Blaine can tell from the deafening yell that the girls have both said yes too. "Tell them to come for breakfast," Blaine orders, and with arrangements made, Kurt hangs up and falls back on the bed, kicking his feet in the air.

"I'm going to be on stage with my two best friends every night."

"Excuse me?"

"Well you're my bestest best friend, that's a given," he says, grinning. "Wow, Blaine. Just wow."

"You know why you got it, right? Because Sally sees in you what I do. She knows you have the depth needed to bring something amazing to the role. I read the original script, and it was really good. Very emotive. She writes with real heart. Now that she's writing with specific people in mind? I think it'll be even better." He lies down on the bed next to Kurt, and softly caresses his cheek. "I'm so proud of you, Kurt."

"Well, thank you for introducing us. Thank you for existing. Thank you for being my really, really, really hot boyfriend too, because I love you."

"I love you too." Blaine kisses him deeply, but there's no time to make out long and hard like Kurt would like to. "Call your dad while I get dressed," Blaine says, dodging his grabby hands. "If they show up and we're fucking, I'll never live it down."

"Must you be so crude?"

"Yes!"

After Burt has shrieked, yelled, cried and generally hollered about how amazing an opportunity this is, Kurt hangs up and goes in search of Blaine, finding him out on the terrace. His face is tilted toward the sun, his eyes closed. He's in tan pants and a white shirt, open at the neck, and Kurt stands for a time, watching him, thinking about how deeply in love he is with the man in front of him.

"For the love of God, man, sit down."

"How did you know I was there?"

"You breathe like a horse."

Kurt sits astride him, but not before kicking his shin. "I do not!"

"I was thinking," Blaine says without opening his eyes. "If this show does a twelve week run, that'll take us up to Christmas. How about we take that Europe trip then. New Year in Paris?"

"Sounds amazing," Kurt agrees happily, but then he quickly frowns. "I think I'm going to have to quit the coffee shop."

"You should. I know Karl is a good guy, but the work will be too much with the play as well. Sally is more inclusive than Frank. She will want your input, your full commitment."

"Is that okay though, for me to quit? I won't have much money and..."

"Kurt please." Blaine opens his eyes and sits a little straighter, holding him close. "I want to share my life with you. All that I have, all that I am. Please let me. For all that I might give you materialistically, you give me back ten times as much, just by loving me, by knowing me, by holding me, and by driving me absolutely insane."

Kurt laughs, then ducks his head down onto his shoulder, safe and happy in the comfort of his arms. "Thank you. Look at you, eh? A year ago you wouldn't have dared dress so casual and yet you look incredible. Effortlessly suave."

Blaine snorts, and holds Kurt tighter. "I'll take it."

"You know what I love? That this side of you is mine completely. No one else gets this."

Keeping his eyes closed, Blaine runs his hands over Kurt's back. "That's because I don't like anyone else."

"I know what you look like when you're sleeping, and when you wake up in the morning."

"Stalker."

"I'm the only one who gets to see you so disheveled," Kurt carries on happily. "I'm the only one who makes you come undone."

"That's true."

He leans close, his lips brushing over Blaine's ear. "I know what you look like when you come."

"Oh god, Kurt, what are you trying to do to me?" Blaine opens his eyes and stares at Kurt's lips before pulling him into a hard kiss. "Damn you. Hearing you say that makes me so horny."

Kurt laughs, pleased with himself, and kisses his cheek. "Not now. The girls will be here soon."

"Exactly! You're mean, and uncaring... And I love you."

Their breakfast is loud and excitable, but Kurt senses that Blaine is in need of his closeness and reassurance. That's not to say he doesn't join in and interact; he does, and often, but occasionally he drifts off, and Kurt knows he's worrying, brooding, over the reading of his dad's will and the funeral. It's nearing noon by the time Anna and Meredith leave, and after that, Kurt takes himself down to the coffee shop to announce his decision to leave.

"I'm gutted, but happy," Karl declares. "Mainly gutted that your honey won't be stopping by anymore."

"Oh I'm sure he will. He goes to the office several times a week. I expect he'll still need coffee."

"I hope so. Wow, Kurt. Did you ever think you'd fall for someone like him? After he snapped his fingers at you that time?"

"No." He laughs as he thinks back. "He probably still would, if he thought he could get away with it, but he knows I'd throw Splenda at him."

"You think he's it for you? He's the one?"

"Definitely." He grins, unable to help himself as he's flooded with warmth. "Yeah. It's quite a weird feeling, to know I'll never want anyone else, but he's the one for me alright."

When he gets home, Blaine is deep in contemplative thought. Kurt would like him to talk it through, but Blaine is not and never will be, the type to share his innermost thoughts until he wants to, so Kurt sits by his side, gently playing with his hair.

"I was thinking. Why don't we take off somewhere for a few days?"

"You have work."

"Karl covered my shifts. I'm done."

Blaine closes his eyes, leaning back into Kurt's touch. "Where?"

"I don't know. Wherever you want. We have to be back Monday, but that still gives us three whole days if we go today."

"You hate being extravagant with money."

"I know, but I think sometimes a little indulgence is okay if it's needed. And I think it is needed, right now, for us. Don't you?"

"I have a place in the Hamptons."

"What?"

"I haven't been there in a while," Blaine carries on, as if no big revelation had been made. "I'd have to find out if it's rented out."

"Maybe somewhere else then? Anywhere you really want to see?"

"Seen it all," Blaine says morosely. "Although..."

"Yes?"

"The last time I went to the Bahamas, I remember thinking it'd be nice to share it with someone. It's a bit boring, vacationing on your own."

"We can do that," Kurt says casually, though inside he's screaming with excitement. "Do you have a place there?"

"No. Just book something. My credit card is in my wallet."

"Me? I can...you trust me to choose?"

"Kurt, I trust you with my life. Of course I trust you to choose a decent place. You're even more of a snob than I am, it's just you don't like to admit it. Now go, book something and let me nap."

They're on their way within the hour, and Kurt is still reeling, unable to believe that he's just booked a three day, four night break that cost more than he earned in the entirety of last year. Blaine is quiet for the duration of their flight and transfer but when they arrive, he looks around the secluded, opulent villa, with its own private beach, and he nods his approval, finally smiling.

"The boy done good."

"Thank god for that. I don't think I'd have coped with the fallout. So this place has staff, but I asked them to leave the kitchen stocked so I could cook, too. There's also a pool..."

"A pool?"

"Yeah, the bedroom doors open out onto it."

"I wanna see."

Kurt leads the way, opening the double patio doors out onto a terrace with a large, inviting pool. It might be eight o'clock, but it's still warm, and Blaine instantly pulls his shirt over his head, shucks out of his pants and underwear and dives, totally naked, into the water. "Damn that feels good."

"Blaine!"

"Come on," he calls, grinning broadly as he treads water. "Come swim with me."

"Like that? With no clothes? I have some swimming shorts..."

"Kurt, there's no one here but us, right?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Get in."

It's an undeniably liberating feeling, to swim naked together in a pool, with glorious views of the sun setting on the horizon of the sea. The only noise comes from the movement of the water, the sea lapping on the beach beyond, and the birds in the trees. Kurt can almost see the stress leaving Blaine's body as they swim lazy laps of the pool, and they swim for a long time before eventually stopping to look out at the sun in its final few burning moments.

Leaning on the pool edge, they mirror each other, their chins resting on their folded arms. "I didn't know you like swimming."

"I love it. You're good in the water too," Blaine adds. "Strong. Manly. Grr."

"Ha! Yeah, I like to swim. When we're old we should buy a house with a pool out in the suburbs."

"Not Westchester."

"No, Blaine, not Westchester."

"You'd want to do that? Move out to the 'burbs?"

"Yeah I would, I think. I love our place though. I don't know. I never thought my life would end up like this, and now I'm contemplating what it'd be like to have a house in the suburbs?"

"For the future, maybe, once you've had your time in the spotlight." Blaine moves behind him in the water, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his neck. "When you woke up this morning, did you think you'd end the day in the Bahamas, and cast as lead in an off Broadway play?"

"No." He laughs softly and leans his head back onto his shoulder. "But life with you is nothing if not varied. How are you feeling now?"

"Better. More relaxed, that's for sure. It's kinda hard to focus on anything else when my hot boyfriend is naked in my arms."

"Hmm. You wanna go inside?"

"No." Blaine steps from the water, leading Kurt over to a large double sun lounger. "I want to curl up on this with you, and make love as night falls."

The remoteness of their location, coupled with their own decision to abandon all technology, means that their three days in the Bahamas is nothing but blissful relaxation. A couple of times, Kurt gently asks Blaine if he wants to talk, but he says he doesn't feel the need to, and Kurt knows he's being totally honest.

They spend a long time on the beach together, and swimming in the sea. The pool is in use every morning and evening and the weather is so wonderfully warm that Kurt very quickly adapts to wearing either nothing, or just swimming shorts when the staff are around. Their final night sees them relaxing in the pool one last time, watching the huge orange sun as it starts to set.

"I think this might be my new favorite place," Blaine muses. He leans back against the side of the pool, pulling Kurt between his legs so he can hook his chin over his shoulder. "What about you?"

"It's magical, and it's been a wonderful vacation, but it's not my favorite place."

"Oh? I'm intrigued. Let me guess."

"You never will."

"I know where it is," Blaine says, kissing his neck. "It's under the tree at the bottom of your granny's garden. Where you and Logan used to play."

"What the...?" Kurt spins in his arms, his eyes searching deep into Blaine's own. "How did you know that?"

"Because I know you."

Kurt takes his face in his hands, lovingly brushing their lips together. "You do," he whispers, before kissing him again. He tries to deepen the embrace but Blaine pulls back, rubbing a thumb over his cheek before kissing away the tears that are suddenly falling.

"Hey," he says softly. "Don't cry."

"I'm sorry. I don't even know why!"

Blaine holds him close, patiently waiting, softly comforting.

"There's just so much happening, and this, right now, is perfect. I don't want funerals and rehearsals and work and business which keeps us apart."

"Hmm, well, the funeral we could do without, but I think we should welcome the rest of it. We both love our work, so we're lucky. Your rehearsals are for something that's going to be brilliant and you know what? Yes we'll be busy, but the next time we get to be alone like this? We're going to appreciate it so much, just like we do now. If it happened all the time, we'd take it for granted and I don't ever want to be complacent about any of my time with you, Kurt. Not ever."

Kurt listens, takes it all on board, and agrees with what Blaine is saying, but when they touch down in New York the next morning, he still wishes they could have stayed on, hidden away from everything, particularly the imminent reading of Donald Anderson's will. Blaine just has time to change into a suit before he's kissing Kurt goodbye again, and promising to come right home after.

"It won't be long," he says as he grabs his wallet and phone. "It'll all go to mom."

"You must be getting something, since you need to be there."

"I doubt it. I think if anything, he will only have mentioned me to stipulate that mom can't leave me anything when she goes. Whatever. Anyway, I'll see you later."

But it is late in the evening when Blaine finally returns, his face ashen.

"Where the hell have you been?" Kurt cries when the front door finally opens. "I've been worried out of my mind! Roy said you told him to come on home without you, he said you were upset. I've tried calling, I wanted to go out looking for you, but I didn't know where to go... I even tried calling your damn brother, but he said you weren't with him. Don't do that to me ever again, Blaine! I understand sometimes you like to be alone, but all I needed was one call. Or a text!" He stops his rant suddenly when Blaine turns his face toward him. His eyes are red rimmed and bloodshot, and though he smells of whiskey, Kurt can tell it's from crying and not from alcohol.

Wearily, he pulls the knot of his tie open, unfastens the top two buttons of his shirt, and then kicks off his shoes before he walks slowly into the living room where he sinks into an armchair.

"Oh Blaine." Kurt kneels on the floor at his feet, taking his hand. "He disinherited you."

"No," he says, staring at the opposite wall. "No, he left me some money. Quite a bit, actually."

"So..."

"He left me ten million dollars."

"What the fuck?!"

"Cooper got the same," he continues in a flat monotone. "Mom got everything else. But the will...the will read like a fucking Oscar acceptance speech. He thanked mom, for being a good wife, a great mother, which is just laughable, and he thanked Cooper for being a son that a dad can be proud of."

The bitterness in his voice is evident, and he pulls himself to his feet, pouring two glasses of whiskey, handing one to Kurt. "It went on and on, about how Cooper has demonstrated himself to have true Anderson blood, and he can see the same noble qualities in his grandchildren, and then it got to me."

At this, he unfolds a piece of paper, which, as he paces around, Kurt can see contains his own handwritten notes. "To my second child. Hear that, Kurt? He couldn't even call me his son, just a child. A fucking child. To my second child, he says, Blaine Devon Anderson, I leave the sum of ten million dollars. I bequeath this sum to him on the understanding that he does not use the money to fund his sordid lifestyle. Rather, it is my wish for him that he seeks professional help for his problems and uses the money to build a new life for himself away from many of the vulgar temptations he finds himself so unable to resist."

He screws the piece of paper up and throws it across the room. "Fuck him!" he yells before downing his whiskey in one gulp. "Fuck him!"

"Don't you dare throw that glass, Blaine," Kurt orders sternly, so he slams it onto the coffee table instead, glaring at Kurt before he sets up pacing in front of the window again.

"He had to have one last dig, didn't he? Even from behind the grave. Bastard. Well you know what? I'm not going to take it. I don't want his money, or anything to do with any of them. I'm not going to his goddamn funeral either. Fuck the fucking lot of them. Get me more whiskey."

"Get it yourself if you're going to speak to me like that. It's not my fault your dad's an asshole."

Blaine rakes a hand through his hair then drops his head in despair. "Ugh. No, it's not your fault at all. I'm sorry."

"Okay. Just keep it calm please." He sips his own drink and coughs.

"Why do you drink it if it always makes you cough?"

"You gave it to me. And anyway, my head is scrambled. You know what though? I think you should take the money. No one's going to monitor its use, right? No one is going to check up on whether you've been to conversion therapy, or moved somewhere else, are they? If you stay out of your mom's way, I really don't think she'll care."

"No, but you heard what he said, right? I can't use it to fund my sordid lifestyle. So say I take the money, and we buy a house. That's funding my lifestyle, because you'll be living there with me. I could buy a couple of new cars, but if you ride in them, is that funding my sordid ways? If I spend it all on fucking groceries, is that funding my sordid, disgusting and dirty life, because I'm eating food to give me energy to stay alive and be with you? I can't help but fund my sordid fucking lifestyle," he yells loudly, "because this is my life! This is who I am! I'm sordid, and I'm gross, and I'm repulsive and awful...because I love another man, who makes me happy, keeps me safe, who loves me in return and protects me... Why is that wrong? How is it wrong?"

"It's not! Oh Blaine, come here. Come on."

For once, Blaine goes to him, and lets himself be held as he cries hard. "Blaine, listen to me, please." Guiding him to the couch, he sits opposite him, but he wraps his legs around his waist, keeping him close. Blaine continues to cry, but it slows to a sad trickle of tears as Kurt fixes him with a determined gaze.

"I think that sometimes, you need to give up. And right now, I think you need to give up hope of ever making anything right as far as your parents are concerned. Not Cooper, we can work on that, but your dad did this deliberately, hoping you'd spend months agonising over it all, and no doubt also hoping it would spell the end for us. It won't. I think you should say a massive fuck you to the pair of them, take the money, and spend it on whatever makes you happy. Make a huge donation to an AIDS charity, just to piss them off. Write a check to the gay church over on seventh. Buy a house, buy a car, put a float in the pride parade but whatever you do, never ever shy away. Be proud of who you are, be proud that we love each other. If you really don't want to use the money, if it makes you feel uneasy, then keep it. If we have a kid, if we have seventeen kids...there's their future. There's college, houses for them, trust funds for their own kids... Use his money, given in spite, and turn it into the most loving and kind gift you can give because I know you Blaine. You are not like him. You have a loving, kind, generous and sweet heart, and I know you and I have the most wonderful life ahead of us. So take the money, bury the heartache, and look to the future."

"I can't, Kurt," he says, holding his head in his hands. "Seventeen kids... I just can't."

"You fool." Kurt leans in, wrapping his arms around him and kissing into his hair. "Okay, that's open for negotiation but the rest of it? Us, the future? That's not up for debate."

"No it's not. Definitely not. And you're right," Blaine says as it dawns on him. "If I use this money to keep us, and our future family, safe and secure, that's the biggest and most satisfying act of revenge I could ever get."

"Exactly. And I think you should go to the funeral, say your final goodbye, get the closure you need."

"Will you be there with me? Will you hold my hand?"

"Always."

Blaine wipes away the last of his tears and kisses Kurt soundly on the lips. "I love you, Kurt Hummel. I don't know what I did to deserve someone as incredible as you, but I'm so very glad that you barraged your way into my life."

"Hey!" He laughs loudly when Blaine pulls him down so they're entwined together on the couch. While he hates the bitter, mean and spiteful way that Donald Anderson tried to defeat his son, he knows from the smile on Blaine's face, that all will work out just fine.