A/N: hey guys, I'm in class, I'm sorry I wont be able to do personal thanks but I LOVE you all so much more than you know xx hope you all enjoy this! Thanks to PuppetmasterC for all her help :)

…

"You're what?" Wes Montgomery gasped, gazing at the young man beside him as they stood along the pathway. There were cops looking around the rubble of the building that had burned to the ground just days earlier. Blaine shrugged and looked to the people who were inspecting the scene. He wished so much he could ask them what they had discovered, but he knew that was a private inspection. He knew that should his or any of the firemen's assistance be needed they would be called upon; he just had to be patient.

"I'm letting someone stay in my house. What about it?" he asked, hands in his pockets. He was wearing a cream polo with a brown, corduroy jacket and darker tanned trousers. Wes was gazing to his friend as if he was a lunatic.

"But you don't even know this guy," he claimed, causing Blaine to just shrug once again. He wasn't being very chatty, which was odd, considering Wes had always been the shyer one of the two. After he met Edith, though, he had really come out of his shell and, his confidence continued to grow. "Blaine, c'mon man, this isn't smart." Blaine glanced to his friend and sighed as they passed the building.

"Wes, he's lost everything," he muttered, looking down to his shoes. "I mean, this place was all he had." He glanced to his friend and stretched out, touching his shoulder. "Look, everyone deserves a chance to have a good life, right? Isn't Edith proof of that for you?"

Wes looked to the ground. He had been in a bad place before his wife came into his life. It wasn't drugs or alcohol, rather an abusive relationship. It was very embarrassing to have been pushed around by a woman, but it had happened to him. Wes was just too nice of a guy to stand up for himself, or to fight back. He had just remained in the relationship until his ex eventually grew bored of him as a punching bag. His confidence had been shattered; he was a shadow of himself. Then a year after the break-up he met Edith; his soul mate, his second chance, the love of his life.

"Blaine, that's different," the elder muttered, shaking his head. The half Irish man looked to his friend, slightly frowning.

"How is it different?" he requested to know, not impressed by his friends reactions. The fellow firefighter sighed and looked to his compassionate colleague.

"Well, like Edith and I…I mean that's fate, man," he muttered. "This is you letting a strange man, who you've just met, into your home." Blaine didn't respond, he just shook his head gently and wrapped his arms around his body.

"He needs a chance," he just responded, shaking his head. Wes looked to his best friend and took in a breath.

"Is this to do with Emmett?" the curly haired male tensed and gazed to the ground at the mention of his old friend. Was it really so obvious? He couldn't shake the sickening feeling of guilt whenever he thought of how he should have looked out for him. He was having a fucking baby. He shouldn't have died. Still not looking to his friend, he kicked a piece of rock that rested on front of his toe.

"No, of course not," he lied, voice not at all convincing. The two walked in silence for a few more minutes until they came to a small coffee shop that some of the guys in the fire service had found the day after the fire. Wes suggested they just stop for a break and have a coffee. Blaine agreed. He was tired of being on edge, hoping they'd call for his help. The half-Asian male opening the door and silently his friend followed him.

It was a small café, and Blaine found himself wondering if Kurt had ever been in here. It wasn't exactly nice, but this neighborhood wasn't necessarily nice either. The walls were a sickly yellow, the paint was peeling, and there was gum actually visible underneath each of the brown, circular tables. Blaine sat at of the cleaner tables as a young woman came over. Her medium length red hair was tied back in a bun. She had large brown eyes with long lashes that fell over her soft, round, freckle coated cheeks. Blaine found himself staring at her. She was pretty, youthful, and the young hero felt bad for her living in such an area. He didn't feel safe here, and this girl didn't look any older than nineteen.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked in her southern belle accent. She probably had come here with hopes of a new life, but got this. Blaine didn't realize he was just staring until he noticed her concerned gaze. He shook himself a little before burying his head in the menu, which was printed out on a small, laminated card.

"Erm, could I just have a black coffee and a grilled cheese sandwich please?" he asked. She nodded, gazing to the handsome man across from Blaine once he was finished.

"Just a coffee for me," Wes said, handing her his menu. Blaine gazed to his best friend.

"You're not getting something to eat?" he asked. Wes shook his head.

"No, Edith's parents are coming over. She's been preparing dinner all evening," he said, looking to his friend as he toyed with a sachet of sugar which rested in a white, china cup in the center of the table. Blaine looked to his friend, smirking.

"The dreaded in-laws," he chuckled softly, fingers running through his feather light hair. Wes smirked. His in-laws weren't that bad, but there was always that feeling of inadequacy when it came to his wife's parents. Blaine's smile turned a little awkward but he mumbled an agreement under his breath. What he wouldn't give for some in-laws that terrified him. He wished for everything that a young man in his twenties should have. What Wes had.

He wanted the family, the comfort of waking up every morning to a wonderfully smelling breakfast, getting his kid ready for school. God, did he want a kid. More than anything he wanted a child to love and spoil. A boy or a girl, it didn't really matter. Maybe one of each. He was amazing with kids and he loved them. Ever since he was a teenager he knew he wanted one. There was one issue however.

He considered himself asexual. Even in his fantasies, the thoughts of the perfect, sexy, wonderful wife brought him no pleasure. He never had been interested in girls or even sex as a kid. He had been devoted to his studies and now was married to his job. He wanted a kid yes, and he wanted the security of a relationship, but the thoughts of having a wife or even a girlfriend seemed like more of a bother than anything else.

"They're staying the week for Vanessa's birthday," Wes was still talking and Blaine tried to zone back into the conversation, trying to appear like he hadn't gone into a world of his own. He noticed how friend stealthily reminded him that his godchild's birthday was merely three days away. Blaine looked to the elder, his expression making it clear that he did remember, but he didn't say a word. This made his friend unsure if he was attending or not. "Blaine?" Wes muttered, about to tell him how much it would mean to his daughter if he was there, but Blaine shook his head and stood up.

"I need to use the toilet," he said and left as the girl came over with their coffees. He almost bumped into her, but she jumped back in before he could, however, she spilled a bit on her skirt. The poor girl cried out loudly as it scalded her through her skirt. Blaine broke into apologies as she placed the coffees down only to rush behind the desk to get a sponge of cold water and dab herself down. The hot drink had been scalding and Blaine rushed over, standing on the opposite side of the counter.

"I'm really so sorry," he said softly and gazed to her as she patted down the black skirt she was wearing.

"It's okay,." she whispered, wondering if she had any marks on her legs. Blaine felt terrible and took out a twenty, resting it on the counter, she glanced to it. "No, really, it's alright."

"Please, take it," Blaine said and walked over to his best friend, sitting across from him. Wes looked to the elder man and then to his coffee which had been the one that spilled. As he picked it up the girl came rushing over to them.

"N-no," she said, standing by him. "I'll get you more coffee. I'm so, so sorry."

Wes shook his head and looked to her.

"Please, I'm okay. We both are, and the coffees are fine," he looked to the girl who was flustered, "and we're sorry for this." The girl shook her head and smiled a friendly smile to show it was alright. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked down to the cute, but married, firefighter.

"Are you sure about the coffees?" she asked, looking from one to the other. "Really, I can get more. It's a slow day." Blaine looked around, noticing that they were actually the only people here.

"Really, these are perfect," he said gently as she walked away from him to get his sandwich. Blaine felt really terrible, and he rested his head in his hands. Wes was glancing to him.

"Thought you had to go to the toilet," he said in a harsh tone. What he wanted to ask was, "didn't you make up some lousy excuse avoid talking to me?" Blaine looked to his friend and then nodded, standing, careful to look this time as the girl came over and rested his sandwich on the table.

"Thanks," he mumbled, passing her and going to the bathroom, not sure which one was the males as neither were marked other than 'Toilets'. He opened one door to see a urinal and then walked inside, closing it behind him and running his fingers through his hair.

…

Kurt had one more day until he went back to work, but he was a little lost. He sat in Blaine's home, in the room the kind man had given him. The brunette was sitting on the soft bed, head in his hands as he listened to Rachel's answering machine for the sixth time today.

'Hi, you've reached Rachel. I'm not here at the moment, so please leave a message after the beep…or if you're Kurt, then just leave me alone.' Beep!

"Rach, please…" Kurt whispered, hand stroking his forehead and hair as he shivered. His heart was aching; he needed to see his son, his baby boy. "Please, call me back, I need to talk to him, or at least have the decency to tell me how he is. Tell him I love him. I'm begging you."

He hung up the cell and closed his eyes, shivering. God, he felt so sick. Rachel had a tendency to move around a lot. At five o'clock that morning he had gone to her last address to find she wasn't there. He was willing to bet she had taken Gabriel and their stuff and moved in with Owen. He felt sick when he recalled Gabriel telling him that the man wanted him to call him daddy. His son, his little boy. He was Gabe's only Daddy, not this man who had only been in his life some months.

The brunette really felt like shit right about now, and he just needed to feel useful. He was glad his uncle was letting him come back to work tomorrow, but he couldn't help but wish it was today. Blaine had gone out a few hours ago with a friend, saying he'd be back around six, and it was now 5:42 in the evening. The young man felt like he should repay Blaine somehow. He didn't really have the money to pay him back even though they had settled on $50 a week.

Blaine really was incredibly nice; in fact, he was too kind to Kurt who really didn't deserve his generosity. He knew if the tables were turned he would never have allowed a stranger into his home. Still, he knew he owed a lot to this man. If he was honest he wasn't sure he'd even be alive today only for the generosity of the hero.

With a sigh, he stood and walked out of the quaint bedroom down the stairs. The home was built with high walls, but the staircase and halls were very narrow. He highly doubted that two people could walk side by side down the stairs. Honestly, he was even surprised Blaine could walk up it. The young man was quite buff, but then again, he was a fireman.

The brunette made his way down to the kitchen where he had shared a meal with Blaine that morning. The man was a good cook, but Kurt wanted to make him something nice. He had often cooked for his son, so he knew it would at least be edible.

He hoped Blaine wouldn't mind as he rummaged through his fridge and cupboards, finding some ground beef, garlic, tomatoes and a few other tidbits in the process. He broke up the pasta, purely out of habit from cooking for Gabe as he put on the kettle to boil, turning on two burners on the cooker. He was glad of this distraction as he sought out a saucepan, strainer, and frying pan to make a meal he hoped Blaine would enjoy.

He couldn't just sit around feeling useless. Even just cooking occupied his restless mind, and he could only hope he hadn't lost the knack. The only time he really cooked, other then experimenting, was when Gabriel was around, otherwise he was utterly committed to take-out.

As he pureed the tomatoes, the frying beef began to sizzle, and Kurt was able to escape just for that time as he pottered around the kitchen.

…

"There they are," Wes said with a forced smile as Blaine pulled up his car at the end of the Montgomery household. Wes's in-laws had literally pulled up just minutes before, and were standing in the garden with his beautiful wife and daughter. Wes had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He was always nervous with Mr. and Mrs. O' Hara, as he always feared they would just decide that he wasn't good enough for their daughter. He knew in his heart that Edith would love him regardless, but he felt he needed to live up to expectations. He wanted to be a man worthy of providing for her.

"They don't look too bad," Blaine said as Wes waved slowly, and looked to Blaine with a worried look in his eyes. Blaine was tempted to say he'd go in with him so it wouldn't be as bad, but the fact was that would mean facing the family. Facing Vanessa asking her uncle Blaine if he was coming to her birthday party. He loved kids and he loved Vanessa, but lately being around children had taken its toll, reminding him how time was running out if he wished to have a family. He was only twenty four but with his job felt so much older. "Go on, get out," he encouraged, shoving his friend playfully, but Wes looked to him.

"You're not coming?" he asked and Blaine shook his head.

"Nah, I promised Kurt I'd be home at six," he claimed, and the elder's thick eyebrow raised.

"Promised?" he questioned, strong arms folding, and Blaine frowned slightly.

"Well, I said I'd be there, and, you know, it's just polite to be on time." Wes shrugged, opening the door of the rather shitty car.

"If you say so," he said with a sigh, but then he looked back to his friend. "Please Blaine, come on Monday." Blaine looked out the window as Vanessa's grandfather lifted her in his arms, kissing her cheek. She giggled madly, looking to the car and seeing her father get out. He saw the look of utter happiness cross her face as she cried out that Daddy was home. Again that feeling of jealousy rose in his stomach, and he bit his lip.

He was being so selfish. Trying to get out of this just because he was jealous of his best friend. He lowered his head, feeling horrible, but he couldn't help it. He was so lonely if he was honest with himself, and sometimes it just hurt to be around such a loving family as the Montgomery's.

Wes closed the door before he had a chance to say goodbye and he watched the father jog onto the path as his daughter leaped from her grandfather's arm. The girl rushed over, almost falling over her sparkling Lelli Kelly's before she lept into his arms, kissing his cheek. Edith approached with a loving smile, resting her hand on her husband's arm and leaning in, kissing his lips softly. Vanessa looked delighted as she always did when both parents were near. Edith noticed Blaine and waved to him, a very welcoming gesture, but he just smiled from his place in the car, granting her a flick of his fingers before the vehicle pulled away from the driveway and he drove off.

'I am a sucky friend,' he thought to himself as he drove away from his best friend's home. 'A sucky, sucky friend.' He really was; he wouldn't blame Wes if he got Vanessa a better godfather—one who came to her birthdays.

God, he couldn't believe she was another year older. It was so crazy. He could still remember standing beside Edith's friend Carli, Vanessa's godmother, the evening she was born. She was so beautiful, and even then looked exactly like her mother.

'Maybe I should try to make it to her birthday,' Blaine considered silently, still undecided as he pulled up to his own house. He had been in a world of his own, and hadn't even noticed the drive to the home.

He pulled his crappy car beside the stairway leading up to the front door. Having walked up the steep stairway, the young man fumbled with his keys for some minutes before realizing it was open already. Of course, Kurt was here. He opened the door, for some reason jokingly tempted to call 'honey, I'm home' even though he was in quite a down mood. He even smiled a little at the thought and walked in, smelling a delicious aroma. The young man toed off his shoes and through the living area, leaving his coat on the back of one of the table chairs. He then entered the small, cramped kitchen.

"Something smells nice," he said with a smile, surprising the young brunette who jumped and looked over his shoulder, hand over his heart. "Sorry if I frightened you."

"Nah, it's okay," Kurt said with a small smile. He looked nice when he smiled. Blaine couldn't help but return the small grin. Kurt was quite a handsome man, the fire-fighter had always been so focused on how skinny he was, how ill, and depressed he looked beforehand, but he was a very beautiful human being.

The Irish male walked over, looking to the pasta, still steeped in un-boiled, warm water and the sauce which was shimmering over the heated burner.

"Looks yummy," he noted and Kurt took out two plates. Blaine's eyes widened. "Oh you made me some?" Kurt smiled gently and looked back to the young man who had housed him.

"Of course," he said with a smile, straining the pasta before placing it on the plates. Blaine almost stood back to give him some room but instead rested a hand on his shoulder, gaining his attention.

"Thank you," he said, and both shared a smile before Blaine walked over to the fridge and asked the other man if he would like a glass of wine. It had been a long time since Kurt drank. He could remember times before Rachel became pregnant; when they were teens at house parties trying everything from martinis to wines. For some moments, he was silent, contemplating, but to be honest a nice red wine would taste really good with the spaghetti bolognaise he had now on both plates.

"Yes, please," he said, going back to the drawer and taking out spoons and forks, which he brought into the table in the living room. As he went back to get the plates, Blaine passed him, holding two wine glasses and the bottle of red. Both men shared a small smile, the two of them just glad for the company. Kurt jogged back into the kitchen and picked up the plates, careful as he brought them into the room.

"Smells nice," Blaine smiled as the plate was placed on front of him, and Kurt chuckled.

"You said that," Kurt replied with a small smile.

Both sat and Blaine picked up the fork and spoon, tucking into the meal wholeheartedly. Kurt was just toying with his own meal, unable to eat until he knew if Blaine liked it or not. He watched as the younger wrapped his mouth around the fork, one strand of spaghetti sticking to his wispy beard. The brunette couldn't help but chuckle as the elder across from him sucked in the noodle.

"What do you think?" he asked, still toying with the food. He hadn't touched his, instead waiting for a verdict as he gazed to the male across from him.

"Mmm, it's delicious," Blaine moaned, swallowing down the food as he dove back for some more. Kurt smiled in triumph and lifted the fork to his lips.

"Thank you," he smiled before he ate some of his own hard work, washing it down with the well selected wine. They continued the meal in relative silence, other than moans from Blaine and compliments to the brunette, but it was comfortable, and both were glad of company.

…

Wes was lying on his back in bed as plump, soft lips travelled along his thick neck. His fingers wound in the dark brown locks of his wife's hair and he closed his eyes, a small moan escaping his lips as he felt her bare stomach against his. He had been really surprised, in a pleasant way, when he walked into the bedroom to find his wife dressed in very flattering, brand new, bright red lace underwear.

"Sweetheart, they can't hear," Edith chuckled, laying over her husband and kissing him passionately, her lips soft against his and her tongue hot and exploring. She obviously thought the reason for him being quieter than usual was fear her parents would hear, but it wasn't. He was just worried about Blaine. He had been so…so out of it.

Still, he closed his eyes, trying to get into it. Especially after his wife had gone out and bought this sexy surprise for him. His hands wound around her torso, slipping up her soft back to the strap of her bra. They kissed hotly, the young man trying to take it off, unclasping the first hook, but struggling. It didn't take much longer for his wife to realize something was upsetting her husband.

"Wes, what's wrong?" she asked with worry in her eyes, stretching out and cupping his face. He leaned into the touch of her hand as her thumb stroked his cheek and closed his eyes.

"Nothing really, baby," he promised, tilting his face and kissing her palm, but Edith knew better.

"Please, talk to me," she whispered, nuzzling his neck and kissing his jaw in hopes he would open up to her.

"It's silly," he mumbled, and the beautiful woman gazed to him, encouraging him to tell her. He sighed gently. "I'm…actually, I'm really worried about Blaine," he admitted, the young woman gazing down to him, stroking his lengthening hair.

"He didn't seem to be himself," she whispered, and Wes nodded. Wes was a really sweet person. If he had reason to, he worried about his friends a lot. He just had a really tender heart. It was one of the reasons she loved him.

"Maybe I'm just being silly," Wes said, stretching out and taking her hand in his, entwining their fingers.

"Call him?" the woman recommended, gazing to her husband. He looked to her and smiled gently, nodding before leaning forward, his lips touching hers in a loving embrace, the two of them clinging together for a number of seconds.

"Yeah, you're right," he said, looking to his cell on the bedside table. He loved how her arms wrapped around his body, holding him close while he stretched out and picked up his cell phone, dialing Blaine's number.

…

Blaine was sitting on his couch, chuckling as he rested his head in his hands.

"How did you convince me to put these on?" he asked as Kurt brushed tears away, his vision blurry.

"Oh my God," Kurt gasped, and looked to the half Irish male beside him. "Aww, you look cute." Blaine didn't even know how this video came into Kurt's hands. It was an old video from almost ten years ago.

"I needed the money; I wanted a Play Station," He defended and Kurt rewound the thirty second advertisement. He couldn't believe this was Blaine, he remembered this ad from some years ago. It was hilarious.

It started with Blaine as a teenager, face covered in spots, pouting against a white background, and then a voiceover boomed out.

'Tired of looking like this? Tired of other guys getting the girl?

Two girls appeared beside the pimple infested Blaine, giggling. Kurt laughed as well as a bottle of facial wash appeared in the teenagers hands. The next scene showed Blaine washing his face with the cream and the following part showed a clear skinned Blaine being mauled by the two girls. They were stroking his hair, kissing his cheeks, and Kurt could hardly hear the voiceover pass his laughter.

'Girls and clear skin is just a dewdrop away,' The voice said as Blaine held up the bottle of Dewdrop skin cleanser. Kurt doubled over in his chair, diving for the video recorder to rewind it again. Blaine moaned, pleading with him not to watch it, and the brunette giggled.

"No way! You shouldn't have recorded it if you didn't want anyone to see it," he claimed, pressing play. Blaine dove to try turn it off. The alcohol had really loosened the two of them up and they were laughing loudly, pushing one another as they fought for control of the video. Blaine was winning when suddenly his cell rang, and Kurt used that second when he was getting it to turn it on.

"Nooo!" Blaine dramatically called and laughed as he pressed the answer button. "Anderson here," he said with a laugh as he pressed his hand to Kurt's forehead, pushing him away. On the other end, Wes was really surprised to hear him so happy.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"Oh, nothing much," Blaine said with a grin as he managed to press the eject button much to his guest's dismay. Kurt pouted, telling the other man he was a "meanie" as the firefighter held the tape to his chest. "What about you?" je asked his friend on the cell as Kurt claimed he would watch the tape again at some point.

"Nothing much here either," Wes replied, feeling foolish for having been so worried about him. "Erm, look you seem busy, I should let you go," Blaine was chuckling as Kurt tried a surprise attack to get the tape, but failed.

"Okay man, I'll see you tomorrow," he said, not even letting Wes say goodbye before he hung up, clinging to the tape as Kurt pleaded for it.

"No, I'm taking this to bed with me," he said, sticking out his tongue and standing. Kurt shook his head and watched as Blaine left the room with the tape firm in his grasp, he chuckled.

"Goodnight," Kurt said and Blaine waved to him. The brunette stood with a stretch; glad he accepted that one, okay two, alright three glasses of wine. He felt better, looser and he stood up, finally getting around to clearing up, not noticing the message on his cell from Rachel.