Okay, this is the last one. Thanks for reading, guys! Feedback would be much appreciated! :)

~0~

The drive home is quiet – Carole behind the wheel and Burt riding shotgun with Kurt and Blaine snuggled together in the back. Through his closed eyelids Kurt can see the glow of the streetlights as they fly past, and even without seeing him he knows that Blaine is watching him – his eyes large and unblinking.

He lets his own eyes flutter open, though he is tired and the doctor said it would be okay to sleep. He needs to see for himself, to watch as he is being watched. He has gone too long without the thrill of Blaine's loving gaze.

And he was right – wide amber eyes are intent upon his face, as he knew they would be. He lets out a soft sigh and Blaine runs his fingertips gently around his eye. "Sleep," he whispers. "Sleep now. You're safe. I love you. I won't let anyone take you again."

Kurt's eyes drift closed once more and he snuggles in closer, resting his head against Blaine's chest, the beat of his heart steady and hypnotic, the scent of him light and fresh and home. He feels lips press against his hair. He feels hands grip his hip and thigh. He lets out a breath and takes in another. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Everything feels fuzzy and soft and he's never been so comfortable. "Love you," he breathes out. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. He takes another breath in.

...

Kurt is disoriented when he wakes. He recognizes the familiar surroundings of his room and the familiar warmth and rhythm of Blaine, who is curled protectively around his body. He can hear crickets chirping outside and a slight breeze blows through the open window. He shivers and huddles closer to Blaine, whose arms tighten around him unconsciously. His face is throbbing again and he wants another pill and a drink of water, but Blaine is so lovely and warm and he is loathe to move. So he doesn't, letting himself he lulled to sleep once more.

...

He's lying in a moonlit field, a cool breeze ruffling his hair, the dew from the grass dampening his clothes and the pungent aroma of wildflowers filling the air. He takes a deep breath and looks up at the moon – large and golden and looming ominously above. He's not meant to be here. He doesn't know where here even is.

"Please be real," he hears – a pained whisper.

He looks around but he can't find whoever spoke."Who's there?"

"Please."

He sees no one, yet he can feel hands caressing him, lips against his eyelids, like he is being worshipped by a spectre.

"Please be here."

"Where are you? Where are you? I'm sorry," Kurt replies. The voice is so sad. He feels compelled to make everything better. He has to. "I can't see you. I'm sorry."

The soft, plump lips find his own and he comes back to himself, opening his eyes to find Blaine hovering over him. He isn't wet or cold or alone. "Please be real," Blaine whispers again, his voice breaking, his tears dripping onto Kurt's cheek and running down over his chin.

When Blaine's lips ghost across his again, Kurt presses upward and kisses back and whispers Blaine's name against his mouth. Blaine lets out a shuddering breath. "I was so scared, Kurt. I need you. I need you."

"I know. I know, shh, I'm here." Kurt shifts Blaine onto his back and rolls over him, pressing his weight into the mattress. Blaine's legs fall open, instinctive, and Kurt lies in the cradle of his hips, bending over to capture his mouth. He lets his hands wander as he kisses Blaine, simple presses of lips turning into open mouths and roving tongues and sucking and biting and gasps. The buttons on the pyjama top take no time to undo, and Kurt sits back to allow Blaine enough space to remove it and toss it to the side. Kurt runs his hands over the newly exposed skin, rubbing circles into Blaine's sides and thumbing at his nipples and raking his fingers through his dark chest hair.

Blaine's eyes are still regarding him so tenderly; he still looks so fragile. Kurt leans forward and touches his lips to the side of Blaine's neck. "Perfect," he whispers. "You're so perfect."

"No," Blaine whispers back. "No. You." Kurt smiles against Blaine's throat and flicks out his tongue. It's a game they play. One neither of them will ever win or lose. Blaine begins rucking up Kurt's own shirt and so Kurt peels it off and flings it towards the side table, realizing it is one of his own and not the scrub top he was wearing on the drive home. Blaine must have changed him into his own clothes.

"You changed my clothes?"

Blaine stops kissing Kurt's chest and looks up. "Yeah. Don't you remember? I got you into the shower too." Kurt shakes his head and runs his hands through Blaine's unruly curls with a smile. Blaine's eyes flick up towards his hair and he lets out a little laugh. "It's a mess, I know. I guess it makes sense that you weren't really awake, you were stumbling all over the place so I had to get in with you. I really hope your dad didn't notice. I was surprised he didn't say anything about my coming in here to sleep with you. But I just... I couldn't not."

"Oh, sweetie, I'm pretty sure my dad knows he'd need a hammer and a chisel to pry you away from me right now." Blaine lowers his eyes and goes still, his wandering hands stopping and shaking slightly where they rest.

"I'm being clingy," he says.

"No. Oh, honey, no. Don't let go of me. Don't let go of me ever." And he means it. When Blaine's glassy eyes meet his again, Kurt surges forward and takes his lips, sucking the plump bottom one into his mouth. Blaine moans against him, his hands wandering once more and pulling at Kurt's hips, bringing him down until they are flush with Blaine's. They both let out a gasp when their hard cocks brush together.

"Blaine," Kurt says. He is asking permission more than anything else, but it comes out high and breathy and without a questioning tone. Blaine answers anyway, pushing his hips up to meet Kurt's and rocking up against him with a low moan.

When Kurt sits up and crawls off of Blaine, Blaine reaches after him, groaning despondently. Kurt quickly shimmies out of his pyjama bottoms and grabs at the waistband of Blaine's. He lifts his hips and Kurt pulls them down his thighs and Blaine pushes them off the rest of the way with his feet.

"Fuck you're beautiful," Kurt says. He didn't mean to even say it aloud, but God, he just iis/i. Blaine is reaching out for him, begging with his eyes for Kurt to come back, to touch him. He clambers over Blaine's leg and stretches out over top of him, almost overbalancing in his haste. And it feels so damn good, the slide of skin against skin, the way Blaine's arm wraps around him, one hand pressing into the small of his back while the other threads through his hair and gently pulls him down until their lips meet.

Blaine cants his hips upward and Kurt moans as the silky skin of his cock glides against Kurt's. He rocks back, working against him, finding a rhythm with the motion of Blaine's desperate thrusts. "I need you, need you, need you," Blaine keeps gasping into Kurt's skin, the warmth of his breath making Kurt shudder and pitch forward erratically. His cock slides down over Blaine's balls and perineum and into the cleft of his ass. Blaine moans loudly and presses forward, then up and down, rubbing his ass over Kurt's erection.

"Oh, Blaine, oh," Kurt groans. He wants to say so much else – you're perfect and you feel so good and I adore you with every fibre of my being – but it's all he can manage as Blaine continues to rub himself against Kurt's cock, reaching down to take his own in hand, jerking it slowly as he watches Kurt's expression.

The sweaty slide is overwhelming, but still not enough, never enough. Kurt leans back only slightly and cups his hands around the muscular curves of Blaine's ass and presses in on both sides, tightening him around Kurt's cock. Blaine gasps and pushes forward as Kurt ruts against him, a long, breathy sound leaving his mouth.

Kurt feels a familiar tightening at the pit of his stomach and a tingling sensation in his balls. "Fuck me, Kurt, oh God," Blaine gasps and Kurt wants to say that's he's sorry or that there isn't time, but then he's coming, spurting hot and slick between the cheeks of Blaine's round ass, and all he can do is pant and shudder.

"Oh my... God," Blaine moans a moment later, and Kurt opens his eyes just in time to see him throw his head back against the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth hanging open as he jerks and twitches and come splatters all over his bare chest.

"God I love you," Kurt pants and Blaine cracks open one eye. He gives Kurt a dopey smile and lets go of his dick, bringing his messy hand up to eye level and scrunching his nose up at it. "Sorry, we made a bit of a mess of you," Kurt says and Blaine lets out a breathy laugh.

"Worth it," he rasps. "So worth it."

...

The next time Kurt wakes up his stomach is rumbling and achy. He peels Blaine off of his chest, his crazy hair tickling Kurt's shoulder as he settles down next to him on the bed and mumbles something incoherent before scratching his nose and rolling over onto his front. Kurt smiles fondly and rubs one hand across his bare back and slips out of bed. Blaine needs his sleep, and Kurt would love to tumble back into dreamland with him, but he has to get something to eat before his stomach begins to devour itself. He dresses quietly in comfy sweats and presses a kiss to Blaine's curls before tiptoeing out of the room.

His dad is all alone in the kitchen, standing over the island nibbling on a piece of toast, his hand wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. "Hey, bud. What are you doin' up already?"

Kurt's stomach answers for him, letting out a loud growl, and his dad laughs. "Guess that hospital food last night didn't really do the trick, huh? I'll make you some eggs."

Kurt smiles at him and goes to the fridge to pour himself a glass of juice. He passes his dad the carton of eggs and grabs his bottle of painkillers from the table where someone had tossed them the night before. "My head is pounding," Kurt complains and his father nods.

"The doctor said it would for a few days. You make sure you tell me if it gets bad, though, Kurt. I mean it!" He points the spatula threateningly and Kurt raises his hands in surrender.

"I will, Dad, geez. Relax. Dizzy spells, bad headaches, memory loss... I'll let you know."

"Don't you go tryin' to be a cowboy about it, got it? We're all here for you."

"I know, Dad. And thanks. I know how hard yesterday must have been for you –"

"No you don't, Kurt. And by God, I hope you never, ever have to." His dad has got tears in his eyes again and he turns away, wiping at them with the heel of his palm. "I'm just glad Blaine and your friends were there when you guys came out of them woods. Though he gave me a fright when I found your room empty and the window wide open, let me tell you."

"Blaine snuck out the window?"

"Yeah. Probably figured I wouldn't want him takin' off looking for you. Probably figured right. That poor kid; he was losin' his mind here yesterday, worrying about you. He really loves you, Kurt."

Kurt looks down into his glass, watching the pulp swirl around in his juice and swallowing the lump in his throat. "I know he does. I really love him, too. God, he still is, you know?"

"Still is what?"

"Freaking out. I'm doing okay. Yesterday was horrible, but I'm okay now that I'm home. Those idiots were ignorant and disgusting and tragically stupid, but I never really panicked. I knew what I had to do the entire time. But Blaine – he's just... I think he's afraid I'm going to get snatched again or something. I think he's traumatized."

Burt nods his head and gets down a plate from the cupboard for Kurt's eggs. "We were all scared, kiddo."

"I know. I just wish I could do something to make it better. Thanks for letting him stay with me last night. It helps."

"I get where he's coming from, you know? I almost lost you too, Kurt. Do you think I don't wanna get Dan down at the shop to make me some sorta sidecar thing that'll clip to my belt so I can pull you around with me everywhere? Cause damn, I'm tempted."

Kurt shakes his head fondly. "Dad, that is the weirdest thing you have ever come up with. And I had to sit through an entire year of your Casserole Surprise before I learned how to use the oven properly."

Burt snorts a laugh and fills up the plate with scrambled eggs. Toast pops and he reaches for it and motions with his head for Kurt to take a seat on one of the kitchen stools. "So," he says, once he's set out Kurt's breakfast and he's begun to dig in. "I got some news early this morning from Ruth Myers. They caught the other guy and they finally got them to talk. The man in charge – he was tryin' to secure my vote on somethin', don't know what. He was makin' plans to kidnap loved ones of a couple other Congressmen, so you really mucked up his plans, kid. They didn't find him yet, but they know who he is. It's good, kid. And I have to say, I'm real sorry, Kurt. They took you because of me, and –" His voice breaks then and he presses a hand over his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Kurt abandons his breakfast and slides off the stool to come around to the other side of the island. He reaches over and hugs his dad, his fingers clutching at the soft flannel of his shirt. "It's not your fault, Dad. Don't you dare go and blame yourself, okay? I'm proud of you. I'm so glad a great man like you is out there, trying to change things. It means so much. Okay? It wasn't your fault."

He feels his dad nod against his shoulder and he clears his throat and wipes at his eyes as they separate. "You're a smart boy," he says. "Guess I did somethin' right."

"I guess you did," Kurt says and preens, making his dad laugh.

"I'm real proud of you, kid. Ruth says you saved that Smythe kid's life."

Kurt opens his mouth to answer just as he hears his name being frantically called from the top of the stairs. "Blaine –" he begins to call back, and then Blaine is there, rushing into the kitchen with his tousled hair and wide, frightened eyes and his bed sheet – Oh, God. He is wearing Kurt's bed sheet.

"There you are," he says, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist. "The window was open and I..."

"The window was open all night, honey. It's okay." Kurt soothes him for a moment, avoiding his father's gaze. "Blaine," he whispers. "Are you wearing anything under that?"

Blaine pulls back and looks down at himself, his face reddening. "Your dad is behind me, isn't he?"

Before Kurt can nod Burt lets out a chuckle and Blaine's blush creeps down his neck and spreads over the top of his exposed chest. "Let's get you back to my room," Kurt suggests, and herds Blaine backwards towards the stairs.

~0~

A week later Blaine is still staying with the Hummels. Cooper ran some sort of interference with his parents for them to agree to his current living situation, but he has no idea what it was. He owes his brother, though, and he's going to find some way to repay him. He would probably be going crazy if he had to spend a single night without Kurt pressed up against him, and though he is surprised there has been no objection from Kurt's parents on their end – especially after his big naked freak out on the first morning – he is very, very grateful. Though when he wakes up on the seventh morning and Kurt tells him they're going out for coffee, he wonders whether Kurt is getting sick of him and is trying to find the most traumatizing way possible to send him away.

"The Lima Bean, Kurt? Are you sure you're ready for that?" Because Blaine is 1000% sure that he is not.

"Of course. It'll be fine. I can't make a proper mocha here and I've been craving one for days."

So of course Kurt gets his way, as is usual, and they drive together in Kurt's Navigator. When he pulls into the nearly empty parking lot, Blaine has to close his eyes and breathe and try not to remember the chaos that had been present there the last morning when he had arrived. Kurt parks in his usual spot and Blaine has to bite back a protest. If Kurt can do this then he certainly can. Kurt is the one who went through a trauma here. Kurt is the one who has reason to be having flashbacks and near-panic attacks. Kurt is the one who is currently humming And All That Jazz under his breath and smiling out at the clear blue sky and big, fluffy clouds. Kurt.

Blaine watches him incredulously for a moment before unhooking his seatbelt and following him out of the car, latching onto him as soon as he rounds it, their 'No PDA in Lima' rule be damned. He hustles Kurt in through the doors of the Lima Bean, his eyes flicking to and fro the entire time, checking for anyone unsavoury. Blaine knows he's just on this side of crazy, but he can't really help himself. Kurt looks down at him and smiles a little sadly; he has not been subtle in the least and Kurt would know anyway, because he is Kurt and he knows the crazy ways in which Blaine's mind works. Blaine unwraps his arms from around Kurt's body and hooks one finger through the belt loop of his jeans. Kurt leans over as if to kiss him on the cheek, but breathes love you into his ear instead before straightening and leading the way to the counter.

There is a new barista who doesn't know their regular order by heart, so they ask for their coffees and Kurt orders them a cookie to split with a flutter of eyelashes in Blaine's direction that makes his breath catch. Beautiful, brave Kurt, standing there so strong as though nothing bad had ever happened.

"How are you so brave?" he asks, once the barista has gone to make their drinks.

Kurt slides a hand up and down Blaine's arm, the one that is attached to him by the belt loops. "You're here, too," he says.

"I don't want to be," Blaine says, wanting to punch himself for how whiny and petulant he sounds.

But Kurt smiles and lifts a hand to finger at one errant curl that keeps escaping the hold of the gel and slipping onto Blaine's forehead. "Well, neither do I, not really. I'm just a better actor than you are." He sticks out his tongue playfully and Blaine smiles and lets his tired, overly-watchful eyes fall closed for a moment. Everything is so backwards; Kurt comforting him with his dry humour when it's Blaine who should be doing the comforting. But that is the way between them. Kurt is always better at dealing with difficult things. "You know," he continues, "I might be forced to believe that dubious acting runs in your family, if I hadn't seen you is West Side Story."

And Blaine actually laughs this time, wishing he could lean forward and kiss his boyfriend then and there. But even if he is ignoring the no PDA rule, he's not going to go that far. He looks at Kurt and of course he just knows, can read it in Blaine's eyes. One side of his mouth quirks up. "Guess we'll be taking our coffee to go, huh?"

Blaine grins at him and shrugs and Kurt laughs a little, turning to take their cups from the barista. Blaine takes the cookie off the plate and snaps it in two, biting his half and shoving the other into Kurt's mouth. "Hey!" Kurt exclaims, muffled and indignant and Blaine really laughs then, deep and joyful and straight from his gut.

On the way to the door, Kurt changes direction, making a beeline for the tables back by the washrooms, taking Blaine with him. Blaine is confused at first, trying to hurriedly chew and swallow his bite of cookie and ask what's going on. But then he spots Sebastian sitting quietly with a book open in front of him, sipping at a cup of coffee.

Kurt smiles at Sebastian and he nods in return and it's still so strange to Blaine. They haven't really talked about it, this strange new tentative friendship between the two of them, even after Kurt had sought out Sebastian's number and sent him a few text messages to check up on him over the past week. He supposes that being through something like they were together would make just about anyone friends. And yet... No... it's still weird.

"How's the brain injury? I see your shiner's still looking super hot there, Rambo."

Kurt lets out a huff of a laugh. "Oh, you know, not too bad. Headaches are finally gone. How's the leg?" Kurt asks.

Sebastian shakes the set of crutches propped up against the table before replying. "Still a bit stiff."

"Guess you'll have to stay off your knees for awhile then." Blaine bugs out his eyes because... Kurt. And how is that even appropriate?

But Sebastian laughs. "Well it's a good thing I don't spend a lot of time on my knees."

"Sure you don't," Kurt says and purses his lips. "Saw your mother at the hospital."

"Yeah. She's staying here actually. She's staying for awhile."

Kurt raises his eyebrows and hums and Sebastian looks suddenly and uncharacteristically shy. "You look quite a lot like her."

"I know."

"I was sufficiently amused by that fact."

"I'm sure you were."

Kurt hums again and takes a sip of his coffee as Blaine looks between them, baffled by their conversation. "Well," Kurt says after a silent moment. "As lovely as this little kidnap victims reunion has been, we've decided to take our beverages to go, so... I guess we'll see you around."

Sebastian nods at them and Kurt turns away, Blaine moving with him automatically, one finger still attached to him via his jeans.

"Hey, Kurt," Sebastian calls out and Kurt turns back to look at him. "If there's ever a zombie apocalypse, you're the only guy I'd count on to save my ass, as flat and unappealing as it may be."

"You boys and your zombie apocalypses," Kurt says wryly with a little shake of his head. He goes to turn away, but turns back half a second later. "You bring the chainsaw," he says and Sebastian grins.

"It's a double date."

Kurt makes a little hum of interest and raises one eyebrow. "Marcus?"

And Sebastian is weirdly shy again. He shrugs and looks down at his cup of coffee. "We were national news."

"Of course we were," Kurt says and preens. He gives Sebastian a wink. "Good luck with that. Don't screw it up with your douchebaggery."

Sebastian laughs. "I'll do my best," he says. He and Kurt nod companionably at each other and Kurt tugs Blaine away and towards the exit.

At the door of the Lima Bean, Kurt pries Blaine's fingers out of his belt loops and twines them with his own and they walk out into the bright sunlight. But not before checking to be sure the parking lot is free of sketchy vans.