So, it's been awhile since I uploaded anything...

This was written for Klaine AU Fridays on Tumblr, and I think I did okay with this one so I'll post it here. :3 The theme this week was vintage, so I pick 1960s hippie!klaine.

Part One - The Van

At first, going across the country with a few friends sounded like the best idea ever. Four boys in Wes's van with money 'borrowed' from Wes's dad. The departure point was their hometown in Ohio and the destination was... well, where ever they wound up. But that was when they were sitting in class during the final days of their senior year, planning it. It didn't seem like something they would actually do.

Blaine had been hesitant at first. His parents strictly forbid him running off on some 'voyage to find himself'. He had this last summer before starting college, and while Wes, David, and Thad were very persuasive on the idea of a road trip, Blaine didn't want to get on his parents' bad side.

"As soon as they notice I'm gone, they'll cut me off for good, I'm sure of it," Blaine said, twisting his fingers around each other in mild panic. The other boys were loading up the van with sleeping bags and suitcases of clothes and the like. Thad turned from sliding his suitcase into the back to give Blaine a sympathetic smile.

"Now, Blaine," Thad said, "every parent should expect their kid to do something like this. We're getting it out of our systems now, so we can be responsible adults!"

Blaine seemed unconvinced, so David jumped in with his own logic. "It's all right, Blaine. Your parents won't cut you off. They told you not to go because they want you to go."

Blaine frowned. "That doesn't make any sense," he muttered.

"Sure it does!" Thad thumped Blaine on the shoulder, giving him a little shake. "It's reverse psychology. The road trip is an essential part of growing up!" He started walking away from where the Wes and David were loading the last of their luggage into the van, pointing Blaine in the direction of the rising sun. He shot a hand out as though presenting the world to Blaine. "We're gonna go see the country. We're gonna meet all kinds of people. We're gonna find out what kind of people we are. We're gonna cause some trouble, and we're gonna have some fun."

Blaine stared wide-eyed out into the horizon, the sunrise-stained clouds seeming brighter. Thad continued, giving Blaine's shoulder a little squeeze. "If you don't come with us, Blaine, you're gonna regret it."

And he certainly did not want that.

They left not long after, Wes insisting on picking the music even though Thad called shotgun, clutching the suitcase of cassette tapes possessively. David instantly began complaining about the music, and without even getting a mile from Wes's driveway the three of them were having a full-blown argument.

Blaine simply sat in the back, resting his head against the window, watching the town go by. He couldn't help the nervous flutter in his stomach as they kept driving.

Past the high school, where the baseball team was practicing.

Past the court house and its lime-covered statue.

Past the sign the declared they were leaving Westerville.

Past corn and soybean fields, the soundtrack constantly changing, the conversation in the van switching from light-hearted joking to arguing to singing.

Eventually, as they went through the border to Indiana, Blaine's nerves calmed and his guilt melted away. His parents and their strict rules were back in that small town, along with the small-town mentality that had oppressed him his entire life. Always tuck in your shirt, always be home by nightfall, never do anything even a little bit dangerous. It was exhausting, trying to be perfect in a world where, no matter how hard you try, you could always do better.

Maybe this road trip was a good idea.

Part Two - A Story

Kurt has always loved flowers.

They're so pretty, and so delicate. And so varied. His absolute favorite, if he had to pick, would be lilac. The house he's currently living in has a fence lined with lilac, and every year when it blooms he can smell them even as he sits in the grassy meadow a mile away from the house.

Today he and his friends are sitting in a circle, as they usually do, eating wild strawberries and braiding daisies. Brittany, who is like a sister to Kurt, leans over and lays her head on his shoulder.

"Kurt," she says softly, barely heard over the breeze, "will you tell us a story?"

The others perk up and start chiming in with 'yes please's. Kurt smiles and leans back, resting on his elbows, staring up at the sky. "Which one should I tell?"

The girls start shouting out suggestions, one after another.

"The one about the rainbow!"

"The one about the star in the apple!"

"The one about the river!"

He laughs softly, then lays down in the grass. The girls follow suit and situate themselves around him and they all lay in a circle, some of them giggling quietly.

Once everyone has settled down, Kurt begins to tell a story.

"There once was a pretty little flower, growing all alone in the meadow. She grew and grew and grew, because there were no other flowers around. She had all the sunlight and all the rain to herself. She wanted to be the biggest, prettiest flower in the entire meadow, bigger than the roses, bigger than the peonies, bigger even than the sunflowers."

Brittany sighs and threads her fingers in with Kurt's, and the others are silent for a moment. Kurt closes his eyes as he continues.

"And so one day, the flower realized she had gotten her wish. She was the tallest, prettiest flower. She could see for miles, it seemed, towering over the grass and the violets and the clover. She was so happy."

In his mind's eye, Kurt sees himself, standing in the meadow, all alone. He may have been loved before he came here, but it was only because he was not himself and he could not stay that way. So he ran away from home, and he's stayed here with these girls for nearly a year, living a pastoral life. Trying to forget. "But one day, the flower realized how lonely she was."

The girls all tut and sigh unhappily. Kurt continues, "Too tall for the other flowers, yet not tall enough for the trees. She may have been the prettiest, but that only made her the easiest to spot. And so, when the village children came running through the meadow to pick wildflowers, it wasn't long before they found the tallest, prettiest flower."

The girls gasp. Brittany's hold on his hand tightens. Sugar says "Oh, no!" softly. Tina and Rachel shift around until they're hugging. All of them wait for Kurt to continue.

He realizes he's telling them his story, putting a female flower in his spot. He's not sure why he did that; probably because he doesn't actually want them to know what happened to him. They'll think it's just a story, telling them why they shouldn't pick flowers. Flowers can't defend themselves from being picked, they can't object to being put in a glass vase with water, just so they can die a terribly slow death. Kurt didn't get to protest. He didn't get a chance to object.

He forces himself not to cry. "The children ripped her out of the ground and took her to their home, bundled her up with other flowers, and set her in a vase on top of a table."

How can he possibly leave the story there? He found his way out, didn't he? Why couldn't the flower do the same...?

"But, even as she grew tired and lost her beauty, a wonderful thing happened. A little bee came flying in the window, and the bee heard the flower's distress. 'Oh, little bee,' the flower said, 'Please help me escape this prison!'"

"The bee complied. He went to the flower and gathered up her seeds, and he flew out the window again, spreading them in the garden by the fence. And to this day, the flowers that grow there still reach out and grab ahold of the fence, using it to climb up so that it may be taller than all the other flowers. And yet it clings fast, hoping to never be carried away again."

The girls cry out happily. "Oh, the flower, was it clematis, like we have at the house?" Sugar asks.

Kurt smiles, only just now opening his eyes. "How'd you guess?"

They all laugh, and not long after, they decide it would be best to get some work done. So they all head back to water the vegetable garden and mend clothes and hopefully fix the leaking ceiling.

Part Three - The Road

He should've listened. Why didn't he ever listen...?

When Blaine had been talked into this road trip, it had sounded like a great idea. Self discovery, freedom, nothing but him, his friends, and the road.

Until the van broke down.

Many miles earlier than where Blaine is now, the van had started making a loud 'clank-clank' sound, and it wasn't long before they had to pull over. Right in the middle of nowhere.

At first they sat there, sweating bullets in the heat, praying for someone to drive by. And then fighting broke out, with David trying to intervene and Blaine standing nervously on the sidelines.

"You should've checked the oil when we were in Charlottesville!"

"Guys, stop it. Both of you. This isn't helping."

"I did! I checked it! Twice! It's not my fault your dad's van is a piece of shit!"

"Don't you call my dad's van shit!"

"If it isn't shit, why are we sitting here, huh?"

After that, it was mostly the four of them in utter silence. Someone would huff with annoyance every now and then. Blaine hadn't liked it, not one bit, because they were stranded and fighting with each other and he wasn't even sure what state they were in. He really didn't like it when Thad, in a fit of pent-up rage over the course of the day, started walking.

Wes looked up from where he had been flipping almost feverishly through a book on minor roadside emergencies (like theirs); he'd been laughed at for bringing the book, but it might just save them all, he'd said. But at that moment, he flung it aside and stood up. "Thad!"

Thad kept walking, but David and Blaine both looked up from where they'd been dozing off by the rear bumper.

"THAD!"

He kept walking. After a moment, Wes took off after him. Their voices echoed down the road to where David and Blaine sat in the dirt. Blaine remembers David looking worried.

Eventually Wes came back, red in the face and very angry, but without Thad. He climbed into the driver's seat of the van and made another attempt to start it. The sound of the engine sputtering and clanging while black exhaust spewed out the back seemed to push Thad from all of their thoughts, because if by some miracle the van started, they could just take off after him, pick him up, and everything would be fine again.

It wasn't, though. The sun had set, and none of them knew what was wrong with the van. They stayed in the back of the van with a flashlight pointed at a dusty, faded road map.

David reached out and pointed to a small dot. "That's Charlottesville. We drove for about two hours..." He moved his finger down the blue line indicating the road they were on. Blaine, who had been given the task of holding the flashlight, wondered how David could figure their location on the map. But eventually David's finger stopped. "We ought to be about here."

Wes leaned over the map and put a black X on that spot with a pen. "There's really not much of an option. We can try and walk back to Charlottesville or we can try and walk to the next town."

Blaine bit his lip and looked up at David, who had remained remarkably calm during the whole ordeal. "If we go ahead, keep going west, we might run into Thad again," David said.

Wes scoffed. "But Charlottesville is closer! Thad left. Good riddance. He's been a total drag this entire trip."

"Looks like Blaine gets to be the tie breaker," David said with a heavy sigh. "What d'you say, Blaine? Keep going or turn back?"

What a loaded question, Blaine thought. He looked back down at the road map. Charlottesville was closer, but Thad was their friend. And wasn't the whole point of this trip to discover new things? To get out of their comfort zones? To move forward? Going back to Charlottesville seemed like the opposite of what they were meant to do. "I think," Blaine said softly, "I think we should keep heading west."

Wes hadn't been happy about that. And while David and Blaine slept in the back, Wes packed up his things and, presumably, headed back to Charlottesville. When Blaine woke up, it was just him and David with Wes's things gone. Not including the keys to the van. Not that they would do them much good anyway, but it was the idea behind it.

Wes didn't intend to come back.

David and Blaine had headed west, and as they walked in silence, Blaine felt some searing desire light up inside him. There was something about walking along the side of a road with nothing but a tattered suitcase that appealed to him. There was something about just... going, not having any plan, no destination, no reason. Just walking, just moving forward.

He has no intention of going back to Ohio. He never had any plan for his future. His parents never understood him, and Blaine never understood his peers. And after keeping so much of himself hidden, this idea of total freedom was so empowering that he didn't even hesitate to tell David he was going to keep going once they reached the next town.

"Are you sure?" David had asked. "I can call my father, and he'll be able to get us home. I know your parents won't be happy, Blaine, but-"

"No," Blaine interrupting. He smiled. "This is what I want."

And they parted ways in that little town. That had been such a long time ago, it seems. Blaine really doesn't have a good concept of time after being out here for so long. He knows the left Ohio in late May, so it could be anytime from late July to late August.

Blaine has been walking and walking and walking, just thinking about himself, about life, about his purpose. He's been able to keep water in a canteen, but he's had to conserve it as he heads west. He has some meager food, mostly junk food and some fruit he bought at a farmer's market a few miles ago.

It occurs to him that he's become one of those people his parents regarded with sneers and distaste, and that fills Blaine with so much happiness and pride that it puts a little spring in his step, regardless of how tired he is.

Part Four - A Visitor

It's early morning, and the sun has only just barely risen. There is a light mist, and the garden is covered in dew. Kurt loves this time of day; everything is quiet and crisp and clean. The rain last night washed away a good deal of the heat and the dust, and today feels like it'll be a good day. He starts over by the herbs, carrying a basket and clippers.

He's not at for very long, though.

"Kurt! Kurt, come quick!"

Kurt looks up from the rosemary he's pruning to see Tina running around the house from the front, her skirt bouncing around her. Kurt stands up warily. "What's the matter?"

"A boy showed up on our porch last night!" Tina says. "He's on lying on the porch, the poor thing. He looks terrible!"

They both make their way to the front, and Kurt sees the other girls standing on the porch around one spot, talking quietly amongst themselves. Rachel is on her knees by the unconscious young man, her hands checking for a pulse and running down his back. Kurt comes over and kneels next to her. "Is he all right?"

Rachel looks worried. "I'm not sure. He's very thin, and look at his shoes. They're so worn out, and his clothes are filthy. I'll bet he's been walking for a long time."

"A vagabond!" Tina says. "I wonder where he's from?"

Kurt shakes his head. "Not important right now. If he's been just... wandering around, he probably hasn't had anything proper to eat in a while." He looks up at the girls. "Someone get the bed ready in the room downstairs. Sugar and Tina, can you start a pot of soup for when he wakes up?"

"Yes," Tina says. "This is so exciting! The last time we had a visitor, it was Kurt, and he stayed." She grabs Sugar by the hand and the two head inside while Tina keeps chattering. "I hope this one stays too!"

Brittany leaves then to get the bed ready, and Kurt and Rachel are alone with the young man lying face-down on their porch.

"I wonder," Rachel says, "...Why do you think he's on our porch?"

"Probably wanted to get out of the rain. I'm just glad he ended up on our porch and not someone else's. Or worse, just passed out in a ditch. Can you imagine?" Kurt sighs. He reaches out, pushing the boy's curly hair aside to get a good look at his face.

His breath catches in his throat. Though the boy is a complete stranger, covered in dirt and filth, Kurt can't help but find him incredibly handsome.

"Come on, Kurt, let's get him inside," Rachel says, and Kurt gives his head a little shake to clear it.

"Right," he says, and the two of them take an arm and throw it over their shoulders, lifting the boy up, and start dragging him inside.

Part Five - The Destination

When Blaine wakes up, he feels heavy. There is a softness all around him, and the harsh sunlight is being mercifully blocked by something. All this time wandering, all these months, and he can't remember a time he woke up feeling so... content.

And yet there is the scratchiness in his throat, the cold and the heat simultaneously, the pain in his feet and legs and knees. The weakness from so long without real food, just whatever he could find.

Something cool and damp touches his forehead and he stirs. The touch doesn't stop, but a voice accompanies it. "Shh, you're all right. You're safe here."

He somehow finds the will to open his eyes. The voice is so soft, like everything else. So musical, pretty, what word could he possibly use to describe it? He wants to see the person to whom that voice belongs, even though his vision is blurry. When his vision clears, he sees a young man smiling down at him, with bright blue eyes and chestnut hair. There is a light smattering of freckles along his nose and cheeks, and there is just such... warmth in his eyes. Blaine can't find his voice, can't bring himself to look away.

"Hello there," the boy says quietly, pressing the damp cloth against the side of Blaine's face. Blaine manages a smile. The boy continues, "My name's Kurt. You just happened to pass out on our porch last night, so we brought you in. The girls made some soup for you, would you like me to get some?"

Blaine doesn't know how to respond. It's so much to take in at once. However, he finds himself nodding at the question.

"All right, then." Kurt folds the cloth, then pushes back Blaine's hair and sets the cloth on his forehead. His fingers linger for only a moment, but for the duration of that moment Blaine feels a tingling sensation erupt from his stomach and spread all over him. "I'll be back in a moment."

While Kurt is gone, Blaine slowly lifts his hand up and touches the cloth resting on his forehead. He then picks it up and, after a bit of shifting and shuffling, manages to get into a sitting position. He looks down at the plain white cloth, rubbing his thumb over it lightly.

All throughout his wandering, he's never really met anyone who would take him in like this. Some people would offer him food or clothes, but never a bed to sleep in. It's the one thing he misses from his youth in Ohio, having a bed to sleep in every night. But everything comes with a price, and the price for getting his freedom could've been much higher.

There is chorus of female voices, with Kurt's mixed in, and Blaine looks up as the door bangs open. The girls stand in a group and stare at him, and he can only stare back. Eventually, they all break down into a fit of giggles before joining him on the bed.

"Look at his hair! It's so curly!"

"He needs a shave...!"

"What pretty eyes!"

Blaine chuckles a little, feeling oddly shy as they crowd around him. The blonde one reaches out and pulls lightly on one of his curls, letting it go and watching it bounce. He can't help but smile when she laughs happily.

The dark-haired one gives the blonde one a nudge and a disapproving glare. "Really, Brittany, you're making him uncomfortable! Now, introductions. My name's Rachel. This is," and she points to each of the girls as she says their name, "Tina, Sugar, and Brittany. I'm sure you've met Kurt already."

"Yes," Blaine tries to say, but his voice cracks, so he clears his throat and tries again. "Um, yes. I met him."

"Poor thing!" Sugar sighs, "You must be thirsty. I can get you some water!"

"We have some cider, too, and some goat's milk!" Tina says, "And I think we still have some oranges, we can squeeze a few if you'd like orange juice more."

"Oh, no," Blaine says. "Water is fine, really, don't trouble yourselves-"

"Such a gentleman!" Sugar says with a laugh.

The door creaks open again and Kurt comes back with a ceramic bowl in his hands. "Oh, girls, don't crowd our guest."

"We're not crowding him!" the girls cry. They climb off the bed anyway; Sugar leaves to get water, and the other girls slowly file out after her.

Kurt sits on the bed and holds the bowl out for Blaine, who takes it and carefully settles it in his lap. "Thanks," Blaine says softly.

"It's no trouble," Kurt says just as softly. "I'm sorry, but could I get your name?"

Blaine laughs nervously. "Oh, of course! Sorry, I didn't... Um. My name's Blaine." He occupies himself with the soup; he gives it a hesitant taste, and is surprised at how flavorful it is. He isn't sure what he'd been expecting, but after so long of eating raw vegetables stolen from passing fields, this soup is probably the most delicious thing he's ever tasted.

"Blaine..." Kurt murmurs to himself. "That's a nice name. Where are you from, Blaine?"

Blaine stirs the spoon around the bowl, trying to figure out how to answer that. Does he keep the mystery of the wandering man, or does he divulge the secret of his upbringing in safe, suburban Ohio? Playing baseball, studying for math tests, disapproving parents, fellow students who might've caught on to his darkest secret...

Kurt is looking at him, waiting patiently for an answer. Blaine swallows thickly, and finds that he really can't lie to those crystal-clear blue eyes. "O-Ohio," he stammers. "I'm from Ohio. But... I haven't been there in a long time."

Kurt's smile grows, and his eyes become warmer. He moves closer to Blaine, setting a hand on Blaine's knee. "That's a long way from here," Kurt says quietly.

The soup sits forgotten in Blaine's lap. "Yes," he breathes, captivated by Kurt.

"Perhaps you'd better stay here for a few days, gather your strength," Kurt reaches out and brushes away a few stray curls with the tips of his fingers. He seems to keep getting closer and closer, until finally he lifts the bowl out of Blaine's lap and leans in, so slow, waiting for any sign of Blaine being uncomfortable.

Blaine doesn't want this to stop. He doesn't want to wait. He's never been very patient. He reaches up and cups the back of Kurt's neck, pulling him in, and they kiss.

It's careful at first, but that only makes Blaine want it more. He tilts his head a bit to the right. Kurt's tongue brushes lightly against Blaine's lips, making Blaine moan in the back of his throat as he opened his mouth to the invitation. Kurt's tongue slides in, slow and cautionary as Kurt's hands grip Blaine's hair. Blaine can't help but rock against Kurt, he can't help the noises he's making which make Kurt reply in kind.

Blaine has always wondered what this would be like. He's kisses girls, merely as a cover. But this is what he has always known he wanted, this feeling is beyond the physical sensation of having a boy's lips working against and with his own, the feeling of a boy's tongue brushing against his. It's an electric spark, flying between them, it's getting hotter and harder and Blaine's heart is racing.

Eventually, with a wet popping sound, Kurt pulls back. Blaine's eyes flutter open, and he takes in the sight of Kurt's lips, red from kisses, turned up in a knowing smirk. Kurt settles his hand on Blaine's chest, as though trying to still his heavy breathing. "I think you'll like it here, Blaine from Ohio."

Blaine nods jerkily. "Yes, yes, I think I will too."

Kurt's laugh is like music, and Blaine thinks he never wants to hear another kind of music.

Part Six - A Deal

Over the next few weeks, Blaine stays with Kurt and the girls, helping where he's needed. He is eager to make them happy, and does things without even being asked. He's fixed the leaking ceiling in the living room, chopped fire wood, and done a whole list of handiwork around the house that the others have been putting off far too long.

Blaine also seems to like spending time out in the meadow, sitting in the tall grass and staring out at the world.

Kurt catches him at it while hanging laundry on a line one day. He can't help but wonder if Blaine even likes being here, because at his core, Blaine is a wanderer. He isn't meant to stay in one place.

Kurt can remember when he'd been the same way, hitchhiking his way across the country just to escape the torture of his past. But he found this place, where life is just tending the garden and the goats and chickens, where all he has to do is finish his chores and spend the afternoon with the girls, helping them braid each other's hair, things like that.

After hanging the last of the laundry, he walks over and sits next to Blaine.

Blaine looks over at him and smiles in that easy way of his, the way that had charmed Kurt instantly. "Hello," Blaine says.

"Hello," Kurt replies with a little laugh. "Watching the clouds go by?"

"...Something like that."

There is a strange longing in Blaine's voice, and Kurt ducks his head down for a moment. They sit in silence while the breeze blows around them.

"...Blaine?"

"Yes?"

"You know, if you ever... wanted to leave... None of us would hold it against you." Blaine looks at Kurt, and Kurt sees confusion and hurt in his eyes. Kurt smiles sadly and takes Blaine's hand in his. "It's not that I'm trying to get rid of you. I can tell that you've got that itch to... just go. Keep moving. Just wander. And if you want to stay here, you're more than welcome. But if you want to go..." Kurt looks down at their hands. "...I wouldn't want you to think you have to stay here."

Blaine doesn't reply immediately. Instead, his eyes close and he leans closer so that his and Kurt's foreheads rest against each other. "...Kurt..."

"I want you to be happy, Blaine."

"You make me happy."

"Staying in one place doesn't make you happy. Don't tell me different, I can see it."

Blaine opens his eyes, the warm amber color seeming to sparkle in the midafternoon sun. Kurt can only stare back, hoping to hear what he wants but knowing, for Blaine to be happy, Blaine has to go. It's in his nature.

Blaine smiles a devilish smile. "Come with me."

Kurt moves back, and Blaine sits up straight. "Come with you?" Kurt repeats, shocked.

"Why not? We can go where ever we want, do whatever we want. Be whoever we want."

"But, the girls... They're the only family I have. I could never just leave them!" Kurt says.

Blaine leans in close again. "I'll tell you what. I'll wait until spring. I wouldn't want to think about being out there, all alone, in the middle of winter... Once it's spring, you can decide if you'll come with me. And if you do, we could stay in the area, come back here for the winter every year. How's that sound?"

Until spring. Kurt can still have Blaine, for nearly six months, he can still have Blaine here with him. He smiles and nods. "Okay."

"Okay," Blaine repeats, and he steals a kiss, pressing his lips against Kurt's, letting them linger. He pulls back only to lay back in the grass, pulling Kurt down with him.

They lay like that all afternoon, watching the clouds roll by.

Part Seven - The Decision

It's a hard winter. It's the first winter since Blaine began wandering, and he definitely misses his parent's warm house.

They all opt to share the biggest bed in the house, up in the master bedroom. Most nights the girls giggle softly, and there are kisses and caresses and soft moans. There really isn't the idea that sex is 'taboo'. It just happens. Blaine has never been so free, he's never been so... Unfettered.

Kurt was his first, and Blaine feels like he doesn't need anyone else.

What if Kurt decides to stay when spring comes? What if Blaine has to leave and be all alone again...? Would he be able to come back every winter? It would be nice, to have some point anchoring him but still free to go as he pleased.

Kurt snuffles and nuzzles into Blaine's shoulder, and the worrying thoughts stop. Blaine can only put the those thoughts aside for now, and try to get some sleep.

They spend a lot of time by the fire place, and cooking, and just generally being domestic beings. It's nice, but as the days grow longer, Blaine dreads Kurt's decision. Because it could be no. He could decide to stay.

And that's why, after the long, mind-numbingly boring winter, Blaine is eager to go but hesitant to hear what Kurt has decided.

Kurt leads him out to the meadow again, and they stand there at the newly sprouting grass. "You know," Kurt says, "I've lived here for a few years now. It's my home, and I can't lie to you Blaine."

Here it comes.

"I'd like for it to be yours, too. But I would hate myself forever if I talked you into staying here. It would be like caging a bird. A bird is meant to fly, Blaine, so."

So, this is it.

"I think I'll take you up on your offer."

Blaine feels as though the world has been thrown off-kilter for a moment. He stares at Kurt is surprise. "...What?"

Kurt smiles that smile, the knowing grin. "I'd like to come with you, keep you company, look after you as you go here and there. And we can come home for the winter. Like birds."

"Like birds," Blaine repeats weakly. "Wait, wait. You'll come with me?"

"Yes," Kurt says, amused.

"And we'll come back here when it gets cold?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, Kurt!" Blaine cries happily, and he leaps at him, hugging him tight and spinning around. "This is wonderful!"

They laugh, and the sound carries over the meadow and into the wind.

Two lovebirds, always going here and there and all over, but always coming home for the winter.