The feeling of Kurt's lips against his was the greatest pleasure Blaine has ever gotten the chance of having. His throat hummed when Kurt granted his tongue access into the younger boy's mouth. "Blaine," he murmured against Blaine's mouth. "Kurt," he returned. "Blaine, I need… I want.." he gasped as he palmed Hummel through his pants, sending shivers up the Warbler's spine and to other places below the belt. "Blaine… Blaine.. Bl-"

"-laine. Hey, Blaine!"

Blaine shot up off of Kurt's shoulder and wiped his mouth of obvious drool-age.

Damn it was a dream. He quickly shot a glance down at his pants and noticed a slight bulge, but not too much that Kurt would notice. He then finally met Kurt's eyes.

"Hm?"

"I need to call Mercedes, I forgot to call her last night and she's going to go all diva on me."

He apologized and got off of Kurt's shoulder. Blaine walked into the bedroom to get changed for the day while the countertenor walked into the other room with the phone up to his ear.

"Baby boy, you were supposed to call me last night!"

"Sorry Cedes, I got distracted."

"Distracted how?"

"Nothing, never mind," he blushed.

"You better update me often white boy. Or I swear I'll come over there and kick your porcelain ass."

"Okay I will Cedes, love you."

"Love you too."

And with that he hung up the phone and walked back into the TV room. Blaine was already dressed in a T-shirt and cargo shorts and was in the process of tying his boots.

"Hey Kurt, wanna go for a hike?"

"A hike?" he echoed nervously. Blaine laughed and nodded.

Unlike Blaine, Kurt isn't an outdoor-sy person. He'd rather be inside reading Vogue or picking out potential outfits for various occasions than admiring nature and getting his clothes ruined from the elements. Plus he has very sensitive skin.

"So?" Blaine pressed with his trademark grin.

You're lucky you are so damn adorable, Blaine Anderson.

"Sure! Just let me go moisturize and get out of these clothes."

The area around the cabin was densely wooded and the terrain was far from flat.

"This looks like a scene from a horror movie. Well, if it was night time at least," Kurt pointed out.

"You're right," Blaine said with a laugh. " To be honest, I didn't think you'd agree to come hiking."

"I didn't think I'd agree either."

"Why'd you say yes? I mean I wouldn't have minded if we stayed back and watched a movie or something."

It's because you're so damn hypnotizing, Blaine.

"No it's fine! It's too early in the afternoon for a movie anyways. Plus, I just bought some designer Prada hiking boots for this trip, and I don't think I'll have another opportunity to use them. But I also came along beca-"

"Shh."

"What?"

"Shhh!"

"Blaine Anderson, don't you shush—"

Blaine clamped his hand over Kurt's mouth.

"Do you hear that?" he whispered.

Both boys remained silent for a few minutes.

Blaine's hand started vibrating and realized Kurt was trying to talk. "Sorry," he said quietly.

"It's fine. Are you feeling okay? Or is hearing things completely normal for you?" Kurt joked. "Ow!" the younger boy yelped in response to a grinning Blaine playfully smacking his shoulder.

"I'm serious, I thought I heard something behind the trees over there."

"Let's head back then," Kurt suggested, "before you have a complete mental breakdown."

The countertenor grabbed Blaine's hand and headed back to the cabin, both of them hiding a sheepish smile.

-x-

"Movie?"
"Sure, I know just what to watch."
"Rent?" Kurt asked with a hopeful grin.
"Rent," Blaine confirmed. Both boys shared an equally excited smile. Even though they've seen it a million times, it still is a joy to watch. It's like an unwritten tradition of theirs to watch Rent whenever they hang out.

"Rise 'n shine, Sammy!" The younger Winchester groveled around in his seat before he finally had the strength to sit up.

"Dude, Asia," Dean grinned, pointing to the stereo and lip-singing Heat of the Moment. Sam rolled his eyes and turned down the volume. "We almost there?" he asked with a gruff voice.
"About 15 minutes out. ETA: 10:30pm. Hunt tonight or you wanna get some shut-eye and go after the son of a bitch tomorrow?"
"We'll figure that out when we get to the cabin and unpack." Dean shrugs and goes back to singing along with his classic rock cassette tapes.

"This is my favorite part!" the countertenor exclaims. Blaine chuckled and poked Kurt in his ribcage. "You said that for every part, silly!" Kurt giggled on contact.
"Is it such a crime for me to have multiple favorite scenes Blaine?" He poked him back.
"No I'm just saying, Kurt." Both boys get caught up in a poke war that not after long throws them off the couch and evolves into a tickle fight. Blaine gets the upper hand by pinning the younger boy's arms to the hardwood floor with his knees, leaving Blaine's hands free to torture the oh-so ticklish Kurt. "Ha!" he boasts, "no mercy!"

Crash

Blaine hops off of Kurt and both boys scramble to get on their feet. Blaine whips his head and meets Hummel's eyes.

"Did you.."
"..Hear that? I wish I could say no."
"It was probably just the-"

Boom

"Shit!" Kurt grabs Blaine's hand. "..Blaine don't try and tell me that was just the wind."
"Quiet!" Blaine hisses.

Thump

Kurt looks down at his hands. Both boys' knuckles were pure white. He focuses his eyes back up to the window. "Fuck!" Kurt pulls the both of them behind the couch, out of view of the window, turns off the lamp, the only source of light (other than the TV), and snuggles close to Blaine, fighting back the tears in his eyes.

"What? What is it Kurt?"
"I.. I saw a shadow."
"Are you sure?" Blaine could see the fear growing in the other boy's eyes.
"I- I don't know. It was so fast, but oh my gaga know I saw something!" his voice cracking a bit. Blaine pulled the younger boy closer to him, almost so he was sitting on his lap.

-x-

Outside seemed peaceful now. They sat there for another good 3 minutes until they heard another noise, a different one from before. It was short living but still disturbed the silence. Neither boy dared to move. They remained behind the couch, keeping eye contact with each other. They were silent, the only noise emitting from either were the sound of their fast-paced heartbeats and uneven breathing.

This would be kind of hot if there weren't some psycho outside trying to kill us, Blaine admitted silently. He tried to give Kurt a sympathetic smile that almost said, "Everything's going to be okay." Even though he himself didn't believe it, and he wasn't sure that Kurt would either.

The younger boy's eyes grew wide and mouthed "listen" to Blaine. He heard faint voices and footsteps nearing the front door of the cabin. "Stay here," Blaine croaked. Kurt protested by tightening his grip on Blaine's hand, but the Warbler managed to slip out. He crawled slowly to the small dining table and grabbed a chair. He crept towards the door, whose doorknob was slowly turning.

Something's picking the lock.

He bit his lip and proceeded towards the entrance. Kurt looked like he was about to pass out.

The door started to open, and Blaine had the chair ready to attack whatever was behind it. "Home sweet home, Sammy," a male voice said.
"Aahhhh!" Blaine yelled, hopping from his position behind the door and attempted to swing the furniture at the intruder. Though, his attempt failed when a second slightly taller man emerged from the doorway to grab the chair that was inches away from the first. "Blaine!" Kurt yelled and hopped up from behind the couch. The shorter man whipped out a silver pistol and aimed it at Kurt followed by a stern, "FREEZE, FBI."

Blaine released his grip of the chair so the taller man gained custody of it. He carelessly threw it aside and pulled out a badge. "FBI," he repeated. Blaine put his hands up and slowly shuffled back to Kurt, who mirrored his actions. Both boys locked their eyes on the two men who were now whispering.

The Winchesters pulled up to the cabin in their 1967 Impala. Dean cut the engine and the two of them made their way to the entrance.

Dean scanned the exterior of the wooded structure and saw a tipped over bench and broken lamp. "Bit of a dump. Huh Sammy?" Dean asked sarcastically.
"Better than a motel, that's for sure." Both boys shrugged in agreement and made their way up the porch steps, making them creak a bit under their heavy boots.

"I bet you five bucks it's locked."
"I'm not making a bet, Dean. I'm done with that. I'm done with that and your stupid little pranking games." Dean pouted and grabbed the door handle.

He sighed.
Locked. Could've made an easy five bucks.

The older Winchester pulled put his pick and slowly worked the lock until it finally clicked. He grabbed the handle and swung open the door. "Home sweet home, Sammy."

Dean was greeted with a chair charging at his face. Sam shot his arm through the doorway and stopped the chair while Dean whipped out his pistol. I am so thankful for an overgrown brother. At first Dean laughed internally, but then he put on his game face. "FREEZE, FBI," he said sternly.

Two teenage boys.Sam mentally noted while whipping out his badge to support his brother.