AN: Hey! This is my first fic, so please bare with me. I apologize in advance for my poor excuse for and lack of talent in the art of writing. (And I apologize for format. I hope it gets better as we go on.) The first few chapters will be slow; switching off from Sam and Dean's view and Kurt/Blaine's until I can finally pull everything together.

I never really liked the idea of sleeping in a cabin in the middle of the woods, Kurt Hummel thought to himself while packing one of his many bags. But whatever allows me to have more alone time with Blaine, I'll take it. I can consider this a date. After being harassed by Karofsky for months, what felt like an eternity of torment for Kurt, Hummel switched schools from the public-ness of McKinley to the privacy of Dalton. Being there for about 3 months, he settled in quite nicely. His highlight, of which he only shared with the New Directions, was meeting a young and dapper fellow named Blaine Anderson, whom Kurt has grown very, VERY fond of over the course of his transfer. His goal for the semester transformed from 'getting good grades' to 'making Blaine his boyfriend.' (Which he has yet to fulfill, and is eagerly anticipating it to be accomplished by the end of this weekend hangout or 'romantic getaway' as Kurt likes to convince himself it is.)

Don't screw this up Blaine. Just calm down. It's just a normal weekend with one of your best buds. No big deal. Blaine chuckles to himself. You bet it is a big freaking deal. The young Warbler argues with himself while packing his bags into the back of his Ford Excursion. Damn, maybe I should've taken the pick-up..His thoughts interrupted by the voice of a fashionable male soprano coming from across the parking lot of the private school. "I'll be over in a sec, Kurt!" Blaine yelled with a smile. He digs his keys into the ignition and drives over to the entrance where he meets Kurt and his bags. Blaine laughs.

"What?"
"You know it's just 2 days at the cabin."
"These are necessities! I have my face mosturizers, my special shampoo and organic soap. There are showers and plumbing, right? Because I don't think.."

Blaine zones out on Kurt's lips, while licking his own unintentionally. Keep it together Blaine, you can last 2 days right? Who am I kidding, I can't even sit in a proximity of 10 feet of him without wanting to lock my lips with his. And oh God, look at those skinny jeans he's wearing. I don't know how I'm gonna-

"Blaine? Blaine!"

Blaine snaps out of his trance. Shit, I think he caught me staring. Nonchalantly, (or so he thought) Blaine makes his eyes wander back to Kurt's eyes while unnoticeably blushing.

"Yeah?"
"Did you even hear anything I said?"
"Yeah! Uhm there's plumbing, and showers. And a fireplace as a bonus!"
"Great. Can you possibly help pack my bags into the truck?"
"Sure thing!"

Kurt can't help but think, he's such a gentleman.

"We're here!" There I go, sounding way too over excited again.. And oh shit, I didn't notice he was asleep. Kurt was passed out in the passenger seat, head on the window with his sunglasses on. He's so adorable when he sleeps. Ha! And he's slightly drooling. Urgh I feel like a total perv now. Blaine reluctantly grabs hold of the sleeping boy's leg and lightly shakes him. Eventually he got some feedback. A simple "Blaine," escaped from Kurt's lips of what sounded like some form of a moan. In less than 3 seconds after that Kurt sits up and rubs his eyes under his Oakley shades. He turns his head and meets eyes with a slightly blushing Blaine.
"Something wrong?" Kurt asked in a casual voice.

He definitely moaned in response to me shaking his leg, of course. I mean why else..

Blaine cut off his thoughts before he they went too far.

"Oh, uh no. We're here," he finally managed to choke out with a smile.

"Constance Welch," Dean Winchester mumbled to himself out loud from underneath the Impala, "what a bitch. Who does she think she is? Messing with my baby.." He rolls out from under the car and runs into his younger, and freakishly tall, brother. "Whadyou want Sam. I'm having alone time with my girl." The younger Winchester chuckled. "Yeah I see that. But your date's gonna have to be put on hold. We got a job," he informed, slightly shaking a folder stuffed with papers. Dean stood up and set down his tools. "Yeah okay shoot," he said while cleaning his grease covered hands with an equally dirty towel.

"There've been sightings outside of Lima, Ohio. 'Bout 4 hours out in a thick patch of woods."

"What kind of sightings, like bigfoot or sasquatch? That'd be pretty easy to track down with you around. You just gotta call 'em for a family reunion, Sammy," Dean said sarcastically.

"Ha, funny. And it's Sam. Sammy is a chubby 12 year old, Jerk."

"Bitch," the hunter responded almost instantaniously (and undeniably out of habit) while whipping Sam in the ass with the towel, in which the younger Winchester retaliated with his infamous bitch-face. "As I was saying, there were sightings and also multiple reports of missing persons. And I even got an eye witness account. The guy spoke of a creature in an interview; said it was 'too human to be a bear, but too animal like to be human.' Any idea?"

"Hold on lemme think. Not much of a description, but I'm pretty sure Dad had a run-in with something like this in upper Oregon. I can't remember what it's called, shoot. Uh, here hand me dad's journal." Sam threw him the book and patiently watched his brother flip through the pages, returning to his original position of leaning his elbows across the hood of the 1967 Chevy, mirroring Dean's stance.

"Wendigo," Dean announced, breaking the short silence.

"What?"

"I said Wendigo. Pretty sure of it."

"Why are they in Ohio? I mean sure I get if it was Washington or something, but why there?"

"I don't know. Maybe it decided to be a one-man wolf pack, ya know, tryin' to find some pretty Wendigo chicks to get some ass from in Ohio. At least, that's what I would've done if I were an ancient Native American cannibal.." shrugging and slowly trailing off. Sam sighed, "Let's just get packed up."

"There we go, all unpacked," Blaine announced with a sense of accomplishment. "Yeah, in record time too!" Kurt added with a grin. "So.. what now? It's almost 6pm. Movie?" Blaine suggested. "Sure! I brought a few, mostly musicals, a few which aren't. What did you bring?"

Both boys spread some DVD's across the oak coffee table and settled for Star Trek (mostly because Chris Pine and Zachary Quinto are quite dreamy.) They popped the movie into the DVD player and took a seat on the couch. Blaine bit his lip, observing the close proximity of Kurt's thighs to his own. Deep breaths, Anderson. He lifted both arms (both arms so he is less likely for accusation of pulling 'the move' on the boy parallel to him) and rested them on the back of the couch, slightly brushing the back of his friend's hair, making both Blaine and Kurt's breath hitch.

"So where we gonna stay, Daniel Boone? Because as much as I love sleeping in the Impala, I don't want no damned wendigo touching my baby.."

"Calm down, I located a cabin in a clearing. Don't think anyone will inhabit it this time of year. Anyway, a how far are we?"

"Two and a half hours, plus finding the cabin, so I'd say about 3."

"Wake me up when we get there," mumbled Sam, shifting around the leather seats until he discovers a comfortable position, and fell fast asleep.

"Night sleeping beauty," Dean said with a chuckle as he pulled a thong and a spoon out of the glove compartment. Placing the thong strategically over his younger brother's head, and the spoon in his semi-open mouth, he then whipped out his camera phone, along with Sam's to take a picture of his masterpiece (and setting it as the wallpaper on the sleeping Winchester's phone). "Not too shabby a multitasker," Dean self-praisingly snickers into the steering wheel.

The credits scrolled through the screen, silently declaring the end of the movie. The roles were reversed, Kurt observed seeing as how Blaine was the one who fell asleep.