WHIMSICAL SIDE EFFECTS OF DATING A SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD BOY
Leo has no idea how Blaine made it, but he is so happy to have him here that he won't even ask.
Or maybe he will but only when they will be so tired and satisfied that they can do nothing but talk.
Right now, he just wants to be kissed and kiss back, and possibly lose himself in the amazing sex they are about to make.

As a matter of fact, Blaine doesn't know how he managed to be in Lima right now either.
Six hours ago he was in Los Angeles and he had just finished playing Hamlet for a very sleepy audience.
He was cleaning his face from make up when Leo's text message arrived and it was one of panic and distress, the kind he always sends when something incredibly silly happens and he is too sad or too distraught to look at it with the right detachment. At first, Blaine has thought to give him a general, soothing answer but then he has read it again, counted how many weeks had passed since the last time they had seen each other and then he has decided to make something crazy.

Blaine knows Leo can be very clingy sometimes, and he also knows he shouldn't spoil him like that, but there are times when he can't help it and as much as he wishes to be strong and not give up to every request, he ends up getting into his car at any given hours to go and see him. In fact, he has driven from Westerville to Lima far more times than a man in possession of all his faculties should have done.

This time, though, he has surpassed himself because after a long day of rehearsal and a two hours long play, he has hopped on a plane and has taken a four hours long flight from Los Angeles to Cleveland and then he has driven another half a hour to Lima only to hang out with Leo for three hours top and than take a flight back, having to give a couple of interviews in Los Angeles tomorrow morning.

The thought of sleeping on a plane and being generally devastated for the rest of the week only because a seventeen years old on the other side of the country needed him should make him mad, but ultimately it's too easy and too sweet losing himself on the lips of said kid to even bother giving a shit about how his body will protest in a couple of hours.

Well, if his next audience will be sleepy as the last one, they will have what they deserve.
A sleepy Hamlet.