education in harmony: part one
By the time Blaine's been in New York for a week, he's pretty much satisfied with the way the apartment looks. He's unpacked almost all of the stuff he brought from home, he and Cooper have managed to score the world's most comfortable sofa/armchair set for practically nothing on Craigslist, and he's finally managed to replace the vacuum cleaner box they've been using as a coffee table with an actual coffee table.
When their parents had offered to buy the two of them an apartment to live in, an unfurnished space in a building unofficially known as the ugliest building in Chelsea wasn't exactly what he'd imagined. He'd watched one too many movies where the lead character lived in an improbably stylish Midtown penthouse for their wage bracket, so the reality was something of a letdown at first.
He realises now that he's been kind of bratty about the whole thing - how many other freshmen get to live in their own apartment in Chelsea, even if they do have to share it with their brother? And who cares what it looks like from the outside or what questionable movies the video store downstairs might sell when what they've got inside is nine hundred square feet of brand new cherry-wood floors and blank walls that they don't have to ask a landlord if it's okay for them to paint?
Blaine knows he isn't exactly an interior design genius but they also both know that Cooper's way worse so by silent agreement Blaine has taken on the majority of the work and he's more than a little bit proud of the way he's been able to put his stamp on the place.
Of course Cooper will always have copious opinions on anything Blaine does, and how Blaine chooses to decorate their apartment is certainly no exception. For example, Cooper apparently likes his furniture to have 'stories' to help him fine tune 'his craft' using 'the medium of improvisation'. Blaine has been dragged into these ridiculous furniture storytelling sessions twice already, and he's pretty sure trying to be the voice of an armchair didn't help him fine tune anything. He's genuinely scared of how much longer this might go on - plus he's not the biggest fan of sitting on something he has attempted to portray, however insane the personification of seating might be. So before things get out of hand he's gone ahead and ordered a bunch of stuff from IKEA, since he knows for a fact none of the items have any backstory whatsoever. He can handle Cooper's flat pack ire later, because it's not as if Cooper even has to do any of the work. Blaine's already assembled it all, and he thinks he's done a damn good job.
Flopping down onto the couch, Blaine digs his phone from his pocket and thumbs through his contacts, hitting dial on Cooper's name. It rings out and goes to voicemail; pretty much what Blaine had expected.
“Hey, Coop. I just wanted to let you know that I replaced the coffee table - I ordered some stuff from IKEA, don't kill me - also a rug, two bookcases and some throw pillows, which can go in my room if you really hate them. And also milk.” Blaine considers his words and rephrases. “That is, I also bought milk. The milk didn't come from IKEA.” He looks at his watch. Rehearsals for Cooper's play have been lasting all day recently; Blaine is usually in bed before his brother gets home. “Maybe I'll catch you later if I'm still up when you get in.”
He hangs up and then stands up, wandering over to the window and looking down to the streets below. He's not exactly sure how he's living in New York City and he's finding himself bored most of the time, but he figures that will pass once school starts. He got the touristy excitement out of his system during the first two days he was here, when he'd chosen to forego unpacking boxes and hooking up the television in favour of taking the NBC Studio Tour and going to see the Statue of Liberty.
Since then, though, he's barely left the apartment except for brief trips to buy milk or bread and he's decided that it's most definitely time to rectify that. Blaine grabs his jacket and his keys and heads out, determined to explore the neighbourhood.
He walks for almost an hour, and he comes across an inviting-looking coffee shop just as he's about to turn around and go home for a caffeine boost. He figures the timing is kismet or whatever, so he heads inside and orders his usual drip coffee along with a slice of pecan and walnut cake that looks so good it might as well be doing a little dance on the counter top yelling at him to buy it. Choosing to take a seat in an armchair by the window, he roots around in his pocket for his headphones, plugs them into his iPhone and settles back in the chair with his coffee warming his hands.
He spends a happy couple of hours people-watching out of the window, ordering another cup of coffee followed shortly afterwards by another slice of that cake. Before he leaves he tracks back towards the counter to stuff a couple of extra dollars in the tip jar, and then heads outside to try and get his bearings so that he can figure out how to get back home.
Blaine makes a habit of it for the rest of the week. He spends his mornings pottering around the apartment - arranging things on his new bookshelves; deciding where to put the rug he just had delivered; figuring out which window gets the best sunlight in case he actually gets around to buying any plants - and then in the afternoon he heads out, taking a book with him and aiming for the little café.
By day three, he's capable of finding his way there without getting lost en route, and the baristas are starting to recognise him. He changes his order every day, trying whatever that day's speciality coffee might be, or deciding between a slice of cake and a piece of pie depending on what mood he's in. It means the staff can't get his drink ready before he orders like they used to at the Lima Bean, but they still tell him how nice it is to see him again and how they're glad he's becoming a regular. He doesn't even care that they probably say that to all their regular customers because it's just nice to feel remembered in such a big city.
One day he gets completely lost in the world of The Princess Bride, so when somebody nudges his shoulder it makes him jump. He yanks his headphones from his ears and turns to see the tiny brunette barista - he promises himself he will learn their names soon - standing there smiling at him with her fingers through five mugs and a stack of plates balanced on the other arm.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” she smiles again. “You looked like you were in a world of your own there and I feel bad for dragging you back to the real one, but we're closing up.”
Blaine glances at his phone and blinks in shock when he sees the time. At least four hours have passed since he last checked the clock. “Oh, wow. I didn't realise I'd been here so long.” He looks around the place and realises that the sign on the door has already been flipped to closed, and while he's not the only person left the numbers are dwindling and everybody's gathering their things and starting to leave.
She laughs a little. “That happens a lot. We have a very calming atmosphere.”
Blaine fumbles with his things, stuffing his book back into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder as he stands up. He picks up his own plate and empty mug with a smile, and trails after her back towards the counter.
“Thanks.” She drops the mugs into a tray of dirty cups and takes Blaine's from him. “See you tomorrow?”
Blaine nods at her and stuffs an extra ten bucks in the tip jar when she's not looking. He's in such a rush to get out of there before he outstays his welcome that only when he reaches home does he notice that his phone isn’t in his bag. His headphones are there, but his phone is missing.
“Shit,” he mutters to himself, flopping down onto the couch and dumping the contents of his bag on the table in front of him. Once he's absolutely certain that it's missing he formulates a plan of action. Thinking back, he knows that logically the only place he could have left it was in the café, so he roots through the trash for yesterday's takeout bag and finds the phone number printed on it. He's suddenly extra glad that he talked Cooper into getting a landline for emergencies and he dials the number in the hope that somebody might still be there who could answer his call even though he knows the store is closed. But the call rings out and then clicks into a pre-recorded message with their opening hours, so he hangs the phone back on the wall and moves on to Plan B.
Plan B involves getting up early enough the next morning to be back at the café when it opens. He buys a newspaper on his way and takes a seat on a bench across the street so that he can see when they unlock the door. He tries to wait five minutes so that he doesn't look desperate but it's more like two before he crosses the street, his fingers and toes crossed that somebody has handed in his phone.
He's the first person in the store so the seat he'd been in yesterday is unoccupied. He quickly runs his hand down the back and around the side, but when there's no sign of his phone he sighs and straightens up, approaching the counter.
“Hi, uh-” Blaine squints at the barista's nametag, trying to be subtle about it and completely failing. “Natalie.”
Luckily she just laughs as she picks up her pen. “Hi Blaine,” she smiles, scribbling his name on the side of a fresh cup. “What can I get for you today? You're not usually here so early - change of routine?”
Blaine grimaces and half-shrugs. “Actually I was just wondering if anybody might have found an iPhone? I'm pretty sure I left mine here last night right before closing.”
“Oh, that sucks,” Natalie exclaims as she finishes scrawling on his cup. “Let me just go and check in the back for you.”
“Thanks.”
He stands and stares at the counter full of cakes and pastries until Natalie returns empty handed. “Sorry,” she smiles sympathetically. “There's nothing in the lost and found and there's no note from Lucy about anything valuable being handed in. The best I can do is keep looking out for it for you.” She pushes a napkin and her pen towards Blaine. “Leave me your number, though, and if I hear anything I can get back to you right away.”
Blaine quickly jots down the number of the landline and his email address, explaining that email is probably the easier way to get hold of him while he doesn't have his cell, and Natalie slips the number into her apron pocket. Before Blaine heads off home to mope he buys a slice of orange and almond cake to take with him in the hope that it might improve his mood.
He's turning to leave when Natalie calls him back, holding a cup of coffee towards him. “Medium drip,” she smiles. “On the house.”
“Oh,” he frowns, reaching out automatically and taking it from her. “I didn't order...”
“I know, but you order that more often than anything else and you look like you could use a boost this morning.” She smiles at him again and Blaine's starting to worry she's flirting with him - if she is, he hasn't helped matters by giving her his number. Before he can try to clarify or explain she rolls her eyes, shooing him away with a laugh. “There's no strings attached - take it before I change my mind.”
Blaine relaxes and nods gratefully. “Thanks.”
“Oh, and Blaine?”
“Yeah?”
“Have you tried calling your number? You know, to see if anybody answers?”
Blaine feels like he must have taken a stupid pill to have not thought of that idea before now. On the way home he makes a detour to Best Buy and picks up a disposable cell, hoping he won't have to use it for long. He realises that he could just call from the landline but there's no facility for voicemail and if by some miracle somebody does try to get back to him, he wants to be contactable.
The first thing he does when he gets home is set up his new phone and call his old number. He's heartened by the fact it rings out before it goes to voicemail, because that means that wherever it is, it's still switched on.
You've reached Blaine, leave a message.
All of a sudden he realises he hadn't actually thought about what to say in this message. “Hi, um. My name is Blaine, and this is my phone that I stupidly managed to leave behind when I was getting coffee last night.” He stops for breath, trying to figure out what kind of message would make him want to return a phone if he were to receive one of the same kind.
“Basically, I'm hoping that you're some kind-hearted soul who will agree to either meet with me or mail my phone back to me. I swear you'll receive some kind of karmic reward at some unspecified point in the future if you do. I can't afford to give you an actual reward, I'm really sorry, but - actually, if you don't want to give me the whole thing back, could you just mail me my contacts? Then you can keep the phone if you want to. Or sell it, or whatever, I'm sure you're strapped for cash, isn't everybody these days? But yeah. If you could just... I'll text my address to you - me, I guess, although maybe not any more - and then I'll just... wait.”
Blaine is well aware that his message has degenerated into rambling, but he figures either this person is going to return the phone or they're not. He fires off a text message with his address - another risky move, he knows - and then heads into the kitchen to find a plate, planning to eat his cake and wallow in his stupidity.
He doesn't hear the phone beep when the text message arrives, but he eventually sees it when he picks up his phone planning to call and leave a pre-prepared and slightly less insane voicemail. Hi, Blaine. This is your phone. I'm looking forward to coming back to you.
He replies as soon as he reads it. Seriously? Oh my god, I love you.
He's gripping the phone so tightly while he stares at the screen willing a reply to appear that he almost throws it up in the air when it beeps shrilly as another new message comes through. I'll meet you at the café tomorrow at ten.
Blaine has a moment of stupidity which he blames on the excitement-slash-relief of the situation when he replies with Which one?
How many cafés have you left phones in recently? Please tell me you're not forgetful enough that it's more than one.
Blaine laughs to himself, a little giddy now that things are looking up. Oh, right. Yeah. I'll be there! Thank you so much, mysterious stranger! He follows it up almost immediately with a more practical message: How will I find you?
I'll find you. Also, Kurt. My name is Kurt. Although mysterious stranger has a nice ring to it.
Blaine clutches his new phone to his chest, grinning. Yay! Thanks! I'll see you tomorrow, Kurt!
-
Blaine pushes open the door to the coffee shop and looks around him. He knows he's late and out of breath and he didn't have time to do anything with his hair this morning so he's basically a hot mess right now. He's still finding it hard to believe he was careless enough to lose his phone in the first place and his faith in human nature is pretty low in general, so he's not really confident that he'll get it back even if this Kurt guy shows up. He spent most of last night concocting horror stories about things that can happen when you agree to meet up with random strangers who send you text messages and he almost didn't show up because of that, but, well, phone. He's only a month into his plan and he can't afford to buy himself out of the contract and get a new one, despite what he said in his voicemail about only wanting his contacts back. The crappy prepaid Nokia he picked up yesterday is absolutely no match for his iPhone and there's only so many times he can poke fruitlessly at the screen before remembering that this particular phone has buttons. Actual freaking buttons.
“Are you Blaine?”
Blaine spins around trying to locate the voice. His eyes are still adjusting to being inside so it takes him a minute, before he spots a guy waving at him from the same table where he'd left the phone behind in the first place. Kurt - he assumes - is holding the phone out towards Blaine in his left hand.
“Oh, thank god you're still here. I'm sorry I'm late - I'm new in town and I misjudged how long it would take me to get here on a Saturday morning.” He's too embarrassed to admit that he slept in because the alarm on his replacement phone didn't wake him. He reaches out for his phone, but before he can take it Kurt pulls his hand back towards his chest, leaving Blaine grasping at fresh air. “What's wrong?”
Kurt shrugs, scrunching up his face in thought. “I feel like maybe it would be irresponsible of me to just go handing this over, willy-nilly. I need to be sure it's really yours.”
“How?”
“With a test.”
“Um... okay?”
Kurt grins and leans back in the chair, gesturing for Blaine to sit down. He unlocks the phone and swipes through a few of the screens, considering his options. “Okay, first question. What's your wallpaper?”
“My cat.” Kurt nods, accepting the answer, but Blaine continues. “Her name is Willow. I miss her - my parents and I haven't had chance to make the arrangements to move her out here with me yet.”
“You don't get extra points for information I can't corroborate. Everybody knows the key to a good lie is in the details, you could just be trying to throw me off.”
“Oh. I'm not, though. If that helps.”
Blaine blushes slightly as Kurt raises an eyebrow and scrolls to another screen of the phone. “Who's your most frequently called number?”
“My brother.”
“Unless he's stored in your contacts as 'bro', I'm going to need a name.”
“Right. His name is Cooper. He's listed as Coop.”
Kurt nods again. “Okay. I think you pass.”
Blaine grins. “Yay!” He holds out the palm of his hand with a tentative smile. “So do I get my phone back now?”
Kurt nods again. “Just as soon as you get me some coffee. Non-fat mocha.” Blaine stands up, hesitating slightly, and Kurt smiles back at him. “I'll look after this until you get back. Wouldn't want you losing it again already.”
“And you won't just disappear with it as soon as my back is turned?”
“If I was going to do that, why bother showing up at all?”
Blaine considers, trying to keep the smile off his face. The fact that Kurt is already laughing at him isn't helping with that. “Maybe it's how mysterious strangers like you get your kicks?”
“I promise I'll be waiting right here. With your phone.” He drains the last of the coffee from the cup he'd already been drinking when Blaine arrived. “Get yourself one too, and we'll see if we can eliminate at least the stranger part, shall we? I'd like to keep hold of some of my mystery, though.”
Blaine does as he's told, heading for the counter and smiling when he realises that it's Natalie who's serving.
“Hey, Blaine,” she smiles at him. “Any luck on the phone front?”
“Actually, yeah,” he nods, gesturing towards Kurt. “That guy found it and brought it back to me.”
Natalie leans on the counter and pushes herself onto her toes until she sees Kurt, and then grins when she recognises him. “So that's a non-fat mocha for Kurt, what can I get for you?”
Blaine suddenly realises he's curious what Natalie knows about Kurt, but decides against asking anything complex when he notices the growing line of people behind him. “Medium drip again, please.”
“Coming right up.”
He pays for the drinks and then moves to the bar at the end to wait for them. He tries to sneak glances back at Kurt as he waits but he's never been particularly good at anything stealthy and Kurt spots him right away. Kurt rolls his eyes and waves the phone at him as if to say I told you I'm not going anywhere any time he catches Blaine looking until finally Blaine makes it back to their table with their two cups.
“One non-fat mocha.”
“Thanks.” Blaine watches as Kurt takes a sip and then slides the phone across the table to him. “It's all yours.”
“Thank you.” He pauses. “Can I ask you a question now?”
Kurt hesitates and then nods. “Sure. Go ahead.”
“Why did you take my phone instead of just handing it in?” He holds his hands up in defence, suddenly realising how his question might be interpreted. “Not judging - I got it back after all so I'm happy. Just wondering.”
Kurt shrugs a little. “I, uh.” He frowns before he answers, and to Blaine it looks as if he's wondering that too. “I was just coming out of the bathroom and I saw you leaving - I noticed your phone right after you walked through the door so I grabbed it and headed out, thinking I could catch you, but you were gone by the time I made it outside. And when I turned around to come back inside, they'd already locked the door behind me.” He looks up at Blaine and smiles. “I figured I'd wait and see if you got in touch and if you didn't I'd call one of your contacts and get an address to mail it back to you or something. I didn't think that far ahead because lo and behold, you did get in touch.”
“Well, thank you for being so responsible. Seriously. I really appreciate you doing this for me. A lot of people would have just sold it.”
An amused smile spreads across Kurt's face. “Especially after you gave me permission, right?” He laughs as Blaine smiles bashfully at the memory of the crazy message he'd left for Kurt. “Anyway,” Kurt continues. “It's no big deal.” He takes another drink of his coffee and then leans back, sizing Blaine up. “So, new in town?”
“Huh?”
“You said you were late because you're new in town. How new? For school, I assume?”
Blaine nods. “Oh, yeah. It's a big change, I just moved a couple of weeks ago from Ohio. I don't think-”
Kurt's eyebrows shoot up, but Blaine doesn't notice so Kurt interrupts. “Ohio?”
Blaine looks up from his coffee and nods again. “Yeah, um, I went to school in Westerville. I mean, I don't know why you would-”
“Oh my god!” Kurt's hand flies to his mouth as he interrupts Blaine again, and Blaine self consciously reaches to pat down his hair in case Kurt has suddenly noticed what a mess it is. “I knew you looked familiar but I figured you just had one of those faces!”
Blaine's really not sure how he's supposed to take that. One of what faces? “What?”
“You were that Warbler. The main one.” Kurt smiles while Blaine just continues to look slightly bemused. “I went to McKinley, I was in New Directions.”
“No way,” Blaine breathes.
Kurt blushes under Blaine's sudden intense gaze. “Don't strain yourself too hard trying to remember me - I didn't have any solos when we competed against you.”
“No- wait.” Blaine reaches out, touching Kurt's hand lightly without even realising he's doing it. “I do. I remember - didn't you have a part when you guys did all those Jackson songs for Sectionals in my junior year? The Warblers were already through to Regionals so I came along to check out our competition. You were really good.”
Blaine can tell from the way Kurt smiles that he's flattered at the genuine recognition. “Yeah. That was me.”
“So are you studying performance too? I'm majoring in musical theatre at Tisch.”
Kurt shakes his head a little and Blaine's pretty sure his memory of Kurt being amazing is an accurate one. He wants to ask why not, but he feels like that would be weird so early in the conversation. It's probably not the kind of thing people who just met should be asking each other. “No - fashion. I'm in my second year at FIT.”
“Now I feel even worse about throwing on the first clothes I found on my floor this morning.”
Kurt laughs, and Blaine thinks he looks relieved that he hadn't pushed the subject. “You look fine. You could call it crumpled chic. You're pulling it off, anyway.”
Now he's pretty sure that Kurt's just trying to be nice rather than honest, but it's still the longest conversation he's had with anybody he's not related to since he moved here so he appreciates it anyway. “Thanks.”
“You know,” Kurt starts. He's staring off out the window, looking like he's lost pretty deep in his memories. “I think you would have beaten us at Regionals that year if you'd taken the solos instead of letting that creepy jackass Sebastian have them.”
Unfortunately, Blaine has chosen this exact moment to take a mouthful of his coffee, and in an effort to keep his mouth closed so he doesn't spit it back out (attractive), he ends up snorting some of it up his nose. Hearing that name is the last thing he had expected to happen today, although in hindsight he probably should have anticipated it once the Warblers became part of the conversation. Once he finally manages to swallow what's left in his mouth and get his coughing under control, he looks back up at Kurt, who smiles apologetically.
“Sorry.”
“No, no. It's fine. I just... I still regret just handing those solos over like that. I guess I was just blinded by love.” He considers his phrasing. “No, not love. Like. Affection. I don't know.”
“I heard some poor kid from Vocal Adrenaline was almost blinded by something a little more sinister than that, thanks to Sebastian.”
Blaine looks down at his cup, avoiding Kurt's eyes. “Yeah. Rock salt slushie.”
“Did you really date him? I thought that was just a rumour.”
Blaine nods glumly, still staring down into his coffee. “Yeah. He never acted like a - what did you call him? Creepy jackass? He didn't act like that around me. I realised afterwards that was just because he was trying to get into my pants.”
“He blackmailed my friend Rachel to try and get her to agree not to sing at Regionals so that you guys could win.” Kurt's tone isn't accusatory, but Blaine feels guilty anyway.
“That was actually the reason I broke up with him. One of the reasons. I found out about that, and the slushie, and various other stunts he'd pulled on other showchoirs in the state. I broke up with him, I went to the principal, and he was expelled. I haven't seen him since, or even really heard his name.” He looks up now, and smiles. “Hence the choking.”
“Sorry about that.”
“You already said.”
“Well I'm saying it again.” Kurt smiles and Blaine can't help but smile back. “Listen, I have to go, but we should continue this conversation sometime. I'm actually sharing an apartment with Rachel these days, I'm sure she'd be thrilled to thank you in person for your part in getting Sebastian kicked out of school.”
Blaine nods dumbly as Kurt stands to leave. “That sounds great. Definitely.”
Kurt is gone by the time Blaine realises they didn't exchange numbers first.
---
Blaine to Kurt: I can't believe you stored your number in my phone.
Kurt to Blaine: I can't believe it took you over a week to notice I had.
Blaine to Kurt: What if I was some total creepy freak? I would be running around, unsupervised, with your number.
Kurt to Blaine: 1) I'm still not completely convinced you're NOT a freak and 2) What exactly would you do with my number, supervised or otherwise?
Blaine to Kurt: 1) Hey! 2) I don't know, I didn't think that far ahead and 3) Are you busy?
Kurt to Blaine: Now?
Blaine to Kurt: Yes.
Kurt to Blaine: Not particularly. Why?
Blaine to Kurt: I've been in New York for almost a month and you're the only new friend I've made. I was wondering if you might be free to show me around. Help me!!
Kurt to Blaine: I'll meet you at the café in an hour.
-
Blaine makes sure he's early this time, so when Kurt arrives he's already sitting on the bench outside holding two cups of coffee. He also made sure to dress a little better today - his hair is gelled and he remembered to put on some shoes where the sides are still attached to the soles all the way around instead of looking like something out of Sesame Street.
“I got you this,” Blaine starts, smiling warmly and offering Kurt one of the cups.
Kurt returns the smile. “Thanks.” He waits while Blaine stands and gathers his things from the seat beside him. “What happened to the crumpled chic?”
Blaine blushes a little and shrugs, straightening his bow-tie nervously with his free hand. “I didn't want you to be ashamed to be seen with me. Fashion majors probably shouldn't be seen out and about in Chelsea with guys who look like hobos.”
Kurt chokes back a laugh. “You didn't look like a hobo, but thanks for saving me the embarrassment.” He turns to start walking and motions for Blaine to follow him. “So, do you live around here?”
Blaine nods as he falls into step beside Kurt. “West 23rd. I'm sharing with my brother right now, but he's hardly ever home.”
“And you said you're at Tisch?”
“Yeah.” He watches Kurt with interest. “Why?”
“We have limited time. I'm tailoring my tour to your needs.”
“You're not going to charge me for this, are you?”
Kurt laughs as he shakes his head. It's not an unkind laugh, so Blaine grins in return.
“Though,” Kurt starts, slowing slightly. “I would never say no to a tip.”
Blaine snorts. “Here's a tip - don't try to be helpful by returning the phone of a lunatic stranger, because they'll latch on to you immediately and indefinitely.” He pauses. “Seriously though, is it weird that I texted you? I'm sure you have some place better to be than this.”
Kurt shakes his head and loops his arm through Blaine's, tugging him along. “I had plenty of chances to remove my number from your phone after I met you, dummy. Why do you think I held on to it for so long before I let you have it back? In case you were secretly the bad kind of crazy.”
“Oh. Right.”
“I'm happy to be your New York Yoda.”
Kurt leads them off in a sort-of circle, pointing out the bookstore he loves on Tenth Avenue, the best (safest) places to pick up takeout or good coffee if you're jonesing at three in the morning, and a couple of his favourite places to just sit and watch the world go by.
“So,” Blaine starts, after they've been walking for around an hour. They've mostly been making small talk, not really talking about anything other than the places they're walking past. “Do you live around here too?”
Kurt laughs a little and shakes his head. “No, not any more.” He looks up at Blaine, who's watching, waiting for him to continue. “I lived on campus last year so I know the area. It turned out that dorm living wasn't really my kind of thing so Rachel and I found an apartment in Brooklyn. It's kind of tiny and the commute sucks compared to last year, but I just love having my own space.”
Blaine knows how that feels. After spending two years boarding at Dalton and having to share a room, he was thrilled when his parents informed him that because Cooper happened to be moving to New York too, they were going to buy an apartment for them both to live in. The news he was going to have his own bedroom for his first year at college had actually made Blaine do a happy dance at the time. “Does Rachel go to FIT with you?”
Kurt snorts and then covers his mouth in embarrassment. “Please pretend I didn't just make that noise.”
Blaine laughs loudly, and Kurt grins as Blaine shrugs helpfully and replies, “What noise?”
“It's just - Rachel at fashion school is one of the most ridiculous things I've heard. No. Rachel's actually a musical theatre major at NYU, like you, except she's at Steinhardt. She's going to be studying in Florence next semester so I'll have the place to myself - we weren't sure how that would work, but her parents agreed that it made sense for her to have a base to come back to so they're covering her share of the rent while she's away.” He looked up at Blaine who was just watching him, listening carefully. “Why am I telling you all of this? I'm sure you don't care about my housing situation.”
“No, I do. My brother is usually either out or asleep, so I feel like I've barely heard another human voice in the last two weeks. This is nice.”
“Is your brother at school too?” Kurt stops dead in his tracks and gasps theatrically, covering his heart with his hand. “Do you have a twin? Are there two of you?”
Blaine cackles and laughs. “Actually it's kind of the opposite. Cooper is almost ten years older than me. He's an actor - he lived in California until a few months ago, when he somehow managed to get cast in an off-Broadway play and suddenly decided that the stage is his true calling.” He rolls his eyes at the thought. “He's kind of a ridiculous human being, but he's been like this my entire life so I'm used to it.”
“And you love him anyway?”
“Something like that.”
“I live with my step-brother's ex-fiancée.”
Blaine blinks at the apparent non-sequitur. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. And I love Finn like we're related by blood but Rachel is my best friend - so believe me, I understand complex family situations.”
They stop for tacos at a Mexican place and Kurt tells him in an exaggerated whisper that he suspects the tacos may secretly be laced with drugs because they're incredibly addictive. Blaine pays for both of them while Kurt's busy insisting he was only joking about the tip thing, but Blaine's happy to take care of it. And even though he agrees when Kurt says he'll only let Blaine pay provided he can do the honours next time, it's mostly because he gets a little thrill at the idea of there being a next time at all.
-
They meet up again the following Saturday. Kurt turns up armed with notes from Rachel, and Blaine is just exiting the café carrying two cups of coffee when Kurt arrives. Aided by Rachel's suggestions they spend the next few hours discovering the area around Tisch before eventually stopping for more coffee in a tiny café near the school.
“I kind of feel like we're cheating on the other place,” Blaine muses as they wait for their drinks, and Kurt laughs as he hands over the cash, having finally gotten Blaine to agree to let him pay for something. They find a vacant table and take a seat. Kurt snaps his biscotti in half and offers a piece of it to Blaine, who wants to be polite and refuse but it's biscotti and he just can't do it. “Thanks.”
“I could tell you wanted it by the way you were staring at it with heart-eyes before I even ordered. You were just too nice to ask.”
“That's not true!” Blaine exclaims, blushing, because it totally is. “I could have ordered it myself if I wanted it.”
“But you know I would have wanted to add it to my order, and you would have felt bad for making me pay for it. We may not have known each other for long, but I can see your manners coming a mile off, Anderson.”
Kurt's grinning and Blaine can't help but grin back and accept the damn biscotti. He dips it in his coffee and they sit in silence for a few minutes, absorbing the caffeine.
“So you can tell me to butt out if you want, but I have a question.”
Kurt raises his eyebrows over the rim of his coffee mug and swallows his mouthful of mocha before answering. “Go on. Ask.”
“Why fashion?”
“Sorry?”
“I mean, like.” Blaine sighs and pauses, trying to rework his sentence so it doesn't come off as insulting. “I can tell you clearly have a flair for design, so that doesn't surprise me, but your singing was so good. How come you're not at NYU with Rachel, or something?”
Kurt's back stiffens slightly, and Blaine's all of a sudden wishing he'd just kept his mouth shut. “Contrary to popular opinion, performing isn't the be all and end all, Blaine.”
Blaine immediately shakes his head, trying to take it back. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have - I worded that badly. It's just that I went back and watched your sectionals performance again on YouTube - Rachel was excellent at documenting all of your performances - and you were phenomenal. Any of the performing arts schools would have been lucky to have you.”
Kurt eyes soften while Blaine is talking and he relaxes back into the chair, looking slightly less like a cat about to attack. “I'm sorry. Living with Rachel has made me a little sensitive when I think somebody thinks I've made the wrong choice. She loves me, but she can't see it either.” He sighs a little. “I do love performing, but it's just not what I see myself doing long-term. I got the part of Tony in West Side Story for our musical senior year, more by default than anything else, and I really did enjoy it, but not in the way I felt like I should if I was going to devote my life to it. You know?”
Blaine nods. “And fashion makes you happy.” It's not a question, because he does get it. Kurt lights up when he talks about outfits or fabrics the same way Blaine feels when he thinks about being on stage.
“It does.” He pauses. “I did apply to NYADA and NYU - as well as Ohio State at my Dad's insistence as a backup - but I knew after the first night of West Side Story that FIT was where my heart really was. The thrill I got from putting the costumes together was so much greater than the excitement I felt under the spotlights.” Kurt looks up at Blaine and smiles. “Does that make sense at all?”
Blaine can't help but smile back because actually, he knows exactly how that feels and he's finding himself constantly amazed by how much he and Kurt have in common. “My Dad wanted me to study English at Harvard. It became pretty clear to me that he'd been okay with Cooper's career choice because he still had one son left to get a 'real' degree, so my plans were kind of a disappointment to him.”
Kurt reaches out to touch Blaine's hand and Blaine concentrates on not blushing. “As much as I'm sure you would have made an excellent English major, I don't think the world deserves to miss out on your talent for the sake of keeping somebody else happy. College is your first step towards being an adult and that means making the big decisions for you and you alone.”
Blaine grins. “And how's that working out for you?”
Taking a sip of his coffee while he considers for a second, Kurt beams back at Blaine. “Pretty good, I'd say.”
-
Kurt to Blaine: Are you awake?
Blaine to Kurt: Almost. Why?
Kurt to Blaine: I need to call in my favor, if you're not busy.
-
When Blaine shuffles out of his bedroom after showering and giving Kurt directions to his place, Cooper is leaning against the counter, a bowl of cereal in one hand and a spoon in the other. His eyes are scrunched shut and he's muttering something Blaine can't quite make out until Cooper opens one eye and looks down, and Blaine realises there's a script open in front of his brother.
“You know I can run lines with you if you want,” Blaine yawns, pulling open the refrigerator and grabbing the orange juice. He figures that after over a month of rehearsals Cooper shouldn't actually need to run lines any more, but since that apparently isn't the case he's still happy to lend a hand.
“Thanks, Blainey, but I got this.” Cooper grins his thousand watt smile, and Blaine sighs and wishes that just once Cooper could bring himself to be genuine in front of him.
“Whatever.” He pours his juice into a glass and shoves the carton back into the refrigerator before turning back to Cooper. “Listen, Coop, are you going out today?”
“Yeah, I have a meeting with my manager in an hour.” He sticks the bowl in the sink and then looks back up at Blaine. “Why?”
“Just wondering.” Blaine takes a drink of his juice and takes his time swallowing it, wanting to seem nonchalant. “Just, Kurt's coming over and I was hoping you'd be.. you know. Elsewhere.”
Cooper's suddenly grinning his face off and Blaine inwardly groans at what that means. Cooper slings his arm around Blaine's shoulder and continues to grin that stupid grin. “Oh, don't worry little brother. You and Kurt will have the whole place to yourselves.”
Blaine narrows his eyes at Cooper. “Why are you talking like that?”
Cooper shrugs. “You know why. Just try and keep it to your bedroom, okay?” He gestures into the living area. “I have to sit on that couch.”
Blaine gapes at Cooper, his cheeks suddenly unbelievably hot. “Coop, Kurt and I aren't- I mean, he's not- we're just friends.”
Cooper doesn't look like he believes Blaine. “Oh. You've been talking about him a lot, that's all.”
“Because we're friends, Coop.” Blaine's speaking through gritted teeth now and he can see Cooper's noticed, because his brother drops his arm from around Blaine's neck and shrugs.
“If you say so,” Cooper heads out of the kitchen, grabbing his keys from the hook by the door. Just as he finishes putting on his jacket, there's a knock at the door.
Cooper pulls the door open before Blaine can get to it and Kurt is standing on the mat with a bag slung over his shoulder, a little out of breath from rushing across town.
“Hi, um, is Blaine-” Kurt interrupts himself mid sentence when he looks up at Cooper's face, and gapes at him.
“Hi,” Blaine stands a little way off to the side behind Cooper, and waves for Kurt to come in. Kurt doesn't move, though. In fact he doesn't even seem to notice Blaine's there at all until Cooper clears his throat and makes a move to get out into the hallway and Kurt snaps back to reality.
“Nice to meet you, Kurt,” he starts, making it all the way through the door and past Kurt before turning back to Blaine. “Remember what I said about the couch.”
“Get out, Cooper!” Blaine's pretty sure he's blushing a deep red again, and he can only hope that Kurt hasn't noticed. He kicks the door shut as Cooper runs off down the steps to the main front door, and turns around to find Kurt staring at him.
“Your brother is the Free Credit Rating Today guy.” It's a statement, not a question, and one Blaine had to field a lot in the three years Cooper did those ads.
“Yeah.”
“I - I've met him before. He did a workshop at my school.”
Blaine's a little surprised, but it's not a complete shock. “Oh. Yeah. He somehow got talked into doing one at Dalton my junior year - which was mortifying, by the way - and loved the attention so much he started touring pretty much all of the schools in the state.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. If you ask me, I think his manager loved the idea because it meant he didn't have to deal with Cooper for a few weeks, but as far as Cooper's concerned he was basically doing charity work by sharing his 'special talent' with all of Ohio.” He takes Kurt's coat and hangs it up, using it as an excuse to compose himself. When he's satisfied his cheeks have stopped burning he turns back around to lead Kurt into the kitchen. He realises he's subconsciously avoiding the couch and that's entirely Cooper's fault, but at least by heading for the kitchen instead he's able to pass it off as being a good host and wanting to offer Kurt a drink or a snack.
“Coffee?” Blaine holds up a cup and Kurt nods, so Blaine flicks on the coffee machine, glad that Cooper had already used it this morning and that for once he'd brewed enough for more than just himself.
Kurt slides onto a stool at the breakfast bar and watches as Blaine moves around the kitchen, rooting in the cupboards for something edible and finding some cookies that aren't quite out of date yet. He shakes them out onto a plate just in case Kurt decides to read the packet and realises they might have been in there for a while. By the time he deposits a mug of steaming coffee in front of Kurt and sets the plate on the table, Kurt has pulled a sketch pad and pencil out of his bag, as well as a tape measure.
“Thanks.”
Blaine's staring inquisitively at the items on the table but he decides to let Kurt bring them up when he's ready. “You're officially our first guest, by the way.”
“I'm honoured.” Kurt puts his coffee down on the table and twists in his seat to look around the room, taking in the décor. “I like it,” he comments after a while. “It's very minimalist.”
Blaine laughs a little. “That's because Cooper and I both suck at interior design so we bought as little as we could get away with without the place echoing like crazy. Plus, we're allowed pets so hopefully I'll be getting my cat back soon.”
“Willow, right?”
Blaine grins, thrilled that Kurt remembered. “Yeah. I've had her since she was a kitten - she was a get well gift from my mom when I had to miss a couple of months of school in Freshman year.” He decides not to elaborate about the dance, it tends to bring the mood down and he still needs to find out what Kurt's favor is. “I named her Willow because I spent the entire time watching Buffy reruns.”
“Cute.”
“Yeah. The thing is, though, she does love to ruin furniture. So we're basically limited to decorating with things we don't mind getting scratched to death, and putting things in places she can't reach.”
“Well, I like it. You've got a really great space, and the high walls mean there's still plenty of cat-safe potential.”
“Isn't 'potential' usually code for 'needs a lot of work'?” Blaine grins, and Kurt laughs at him.
“It means you get to add to it as you go along, make it really yours. There's no rush to do that.”
Blaine blushes slightly, he can't help it. There's something about the way Kurt's looking at him that makes Blaine's chest tighten a little, and his voice is quiet when he replies. “Well, feel free to give me suggestions. I would be honoured to have you as my personal advisor.”
“Speaking of which, here's the thing,” Kurt starts, suddenly seeming nervous, which is a look Blaine hasn't seen on Kurt before. Kurt's picked up the pencil and he's twirling it around between his fingers in a way that Blaine can't help but find kind of mesmerising. “And you can say no if you want to. Really, it's not a problem.”
“How about you ask me first before you start assuming I'm going to say no,” Blaine laughs softly. His tone is gentle, and Kurt huffs out a laugh too before tucking an invisible hair back into place as if it were some kind of reflex move.
“Right.” Kurt takes a deep breath before continuing, and the pause is long enough that Blaine's starting to imagine all kinds of horrible things that Kurt might be steeling himself to ask. “I was wondering if you would model for me.”
Blaine bites his lip. “Model as in...”
“As in, I would like to design some outfits and I'd like you to be my model.” His eyes dart between Blaine and the pad and pencil in front of him, and back up to Blaine. “Oh, god, I mean - not model as in, you know. Life drawing.”
Blaine tilts his head back and laughs, he can't help it. Potential nudity had flashed through his mind as one of the worst case scenario options so when Kurt first asked the question there was a brief moment when that was exactly what Blaine thought he meant. He's relieved that it wasn't because he's not sure he could handle that. “For school?”
Kurt bites his lip again and shakes his head a little. “No. Well, not exactly.” He pauses. “Basically I want to design a range of outfits with a real live human being for inspiration. The classes I'm taking this semester are going to teach me certain things, like draping, and I want to try putting them into practice without the pressure of being graded on it at the end. You know, so that if it all goes wrong the only frustration will be that I've wasted my time - and yours, I guess, if you're willing - but it won't affect my grades if I don't finish.”
Blaine's still kind of stuck on the fact that Kurt wants to use him for inspiration, because that's a total honour. “Is this because you want to fix my crumpled chic?”
Kurt grins. “Not at all. In fact, it's kind of because of how much I like your crumpled chic. With the bow-ties and the highwaters - you're giving me all kinds of ideas.”
Blaine grins and reaches for a cookie. “Then I would love to be your model.”
Kurt smiles for a second, and then looks down at his fingers. “Just so we're clear... I can't pay you, or anything. There's literally nothing in this for you except being stuck with me all the time.”
Blaine shrugs, still smiling. “That's absolutely okay with me.”
Kurt grins, lifting up his sketch pad and flipping open to the first page. “I hoped you'd say yes. I already got a few ideas down.”
-
By mid afternoon Blaine is lying flat out on the couch, flipping one of Kurt's pencils between his fingers and trying to look even half as dexterous as Kurt had earlier. Kurt's curled up into the armchair, his pad balanced on his knees but not really drawing anything other than the odd line here or there.
“So what's Cooper's story?”
Blaine frowns when Kurt asks. He remembers the girls at his middle school constantly freaking out about how hot Cooper was and asking Blaine if he had a girlfriend. It did not do wonders for Blaine's confidence that the only thing his friends cared about was whether or not his brother was available. “What do you mean?”
“Well, when he did that workshop at McKinley, he was all about how Broadway is dead and nobody goes to theatre, and ignore your scene partner because it makes your acting choices more reliable.”
Blaine relaxes back into the couch and just laughs at the memory of his own experience of the Cooper Anderson Masterclass. “Yeah, well. Like I said. He's a ridiculous human being. He's completely anti-Broadway until his agent points out there might be a part for him and then suddenly oh, it's the best thing ever.” He sighs. “I won't complain, though. I'd be living in dorms if he wasn't here.”
“And he got a part, right? So at least it worked.”
Blaine just hums in response. “I guess.”
Kurt cocks his head slightly and smiles at Blaine. “No you don't. You have an opinion, I can tell.”
“It's just...” Blaine sighs and wriggles into a sitting position, propping himself up on his elbows. “It's a terrible play. I read the script.”
“How terrible?”
“It's meant to be pro-gay rights, right? It's set a hundred years in the future and basically everybody is gay now. They outlawed heterosexuality in order to try and keep birth rates down-”
“Wait, seriously?!”
“Yeah. So they've done that, and then the main character in the play - which of course has to be Cooper - has been cryogenically frozen and when he wakes up he's in this future where he's basically an outcast for being straight. And Cooper is so excited, Kurt. He keeps telling me how he's doing this for me, to bring attention to 'our situation' - his words, not mine - but oh my god, Kurt. The script is just so offensive. In like a hundred different ways.”
“Wow.”
“All the lesbians turn out to be faking.”
“Wow.”
Blaine suddenly leaps over the back of the couch, padding off into the kitchen and finding Cooper's script still lying on the counter, retrieving it before he heads back into the living room towards Kurt. “It seems like their main way of portraying the fact that they're in the future is by putting the word 'hover' in front of everything. Hover car. Hover ball.” He passes the script to Kurt who starts to thumb through it while Blaine lies back down on the couch.
“'It's not my fault if I like to take it up the front'?! Jesus Blaine. You weren't kidding.”
“He's going to expect me to come and see it. I don't know if I can handle that.”
“I'll come.”
Blaine blinks. “You- you will?”
“It's going to be a train wreck. We can sit in the back and mock, and then when Cooper asks, you don't have to lie and pretend you enjoyed yourself because you really will have had a good time - it just won't have been for exactly the right reasons. Now,” Kurt puts his sketch pad down and stands up, reaching for Blaine's hand and pulling him to his feet too. “Can we act some of this out? Please?”
Blaine giggles and nods, taking the page Kurt is thrusting at him. “Do you want to be the straight guy pretending to be gay in order to be allowed to run for governor, the gay ex-campaign manager who gets to actually be out and proud now he's in this insane heterophobic future and runs for governor himself, or the lesbian campaign manager who turns out to be secretly straight?”
Kurt blinks. “I didn't understand anything you just said. Just tell me which one is Cooper's part and let's get started.”
-
When Cooper gets home, it's already dark outside but Kurt is still there. There's an America's Next Top Model marathon playing on the TV, takeout boxes from the Thai place a few blocks away that Kurt recommended are scattered on the floor, and Blaine is standing on the coffee table. His legs are spread slightly apart and his hands are planted on his hips like he thinks he's Superman. Kurt is kneeling on the floor behind the table with his tape measure held up the back of Blaine's left leg, and neither of them hear Cooper come in until he's standing right beside them.
“Squirt, when I said not on the couch, I meant keep it in your bedroom.”
Blaine jumps at the sound of his brother's voice, spinning around and almost kneeing Kurt in the face as he leaps down from the table. He's pretty glad that the table hasn't collapsed under his weight - considering he assembled it himself he had half expected it to fall apart as soon as he stepped up there.
“Coop!” Blaine grins, feeling happy enough from the day he and Kurt have spent that he can choose to ignore Cooper's lewd subtext. “Kurt is making pants for me!”
Kurt snorts. “I think that's probably my cue to leave.”
Blaine helps Kurt gather up the sketches, stationery and random pieces of fabric that are scattered around the floor. They'd been careful to put Cooper's script back in the kitchen as soon as they'd exhausted themselves from laughing, in case he noticed it had moved and asked questions. “I'll walk you out.”
“It's fine, really. I can see the door from here. Technically even if you stay where you are, you're seeing me out.”
“See you Saturday for coffee?”
Kurt nods and smiles as he straightens his bag on his shoulder and looks back up at Blaine. “Our new tradition, wouldn't miss it. I want to hear all about your first week at school.”
Blaine waits until Kurt's gone and then picks up the empty Thai containers and takes them into the kitchen to drop them in the trash, where he finds Cooper with his head in the refrigerator. “You can stop counting your beers, Coop, we didn't have any.”
Cooper straightens up and pulls out a beer, not denying that's what he was doing, and leans back against the fridge after he closes it. “You seriously expect me to believe there's nothing going on between you two?”
Blaine rolls his eyes. “Yes. I do. Because there isn't.”
Cooper shrugs as he twists the cap off his bottle. “Well, maybe there should be.”
Blaine chooses to ignore Cooper's comments as he sits back down in front of the TV, flicking Next Top Model off and channel hopping in search of something the two of them can agree on. It's not as if Kurt's not hot, because he absolutely is. And it's not that he hasn't considered whether there could be something between them, because the thought has definitely crossed his mind. But they've only been friends for a few weeks, and before today they haven't spent more than a couple of hours straight in each other's company.
The last time he met a cute guy and fell for him in such a short period of time, Sebastian happened. Blaine's not ready for something like that to happen again. Right now, he knows he's much happier getting to know Kurt as friends than trying to push anything further and ruining it all.
Part Two
When their parents had offered to buy the two of them an apartment to live in, an unfurnished space in a building unofficially known as the ugliest building in Chelsea wasn't exactly what he'd imagined. He'd watched one too many movies where the lead character lived in an improbably stylish Midtown penthouse for their wage bracket, so the reality was something of a letdown at first.
He realises now that he's been kind of bratty about the whole thing - how many other freshmen get to live in their own apartment in Chelsea, even if they do have to share it with their brother? And who cares what it looks like from the outside or what questionable movies the video store downstairs might sell when what they've got inside is nine hundred square feet of brand new cherry-wood floors and blank walls that they don't have to ask a landlord if it's okay for them to paint?
Blaine knows he isn't exactly an interior design genius but they also both know that Cooper's way worse so by silent agreement Blaine has taken on the majority of the work and he's more than a little bit proud of the way he's been able to put his stamp on the place.
Of course Cooper will always have copious opinions on anything Blaine does, and how Blaine chooses to decorate their apartment is certainly no exception. For example, Cooper apparently likes his furniture to have 'stories' to help him fine tune 'his craft' using 'the medium of improvisation'. Blaine has been dragged into these ridiculous furniture storytelling sessions twice already, and he's pretty sure trying to be the voice of an armchair didn't help him fine tune anything. He's genuinely scared of how much longer this might go on - plus he's not the biggest fan of sitting on something he has attempted to portray, however insane the personification of seating might be. So before things get out of hand he's gone ahead and ordered a bunch of stuff from IKEA, since he knows for a fact none of the items have any backstory whatsoever. He can handle Cooper's flat pack ire later, because it's not as if Cooper even has to do any of the work. Blaine's already assembled it all, and he thinks he's done a damn good job.
Flopping down onto the couch, Blaine digs his phone from his pocket and thumbs through his contacts, hitting dial on Cooper's name. It rings out and goes to voicemail; pretty much what Blaine had expected.
“Hey, Coop. I just wanted to let you know that I replaced the coffee table - I ordered some stuff from IKEA, don't kill me - also a rug, two bookcases and some throw pillows, which can go in my room if you really hate them. And also milk.” Blaine considers his words and rephrases. “That is, I also bought milk. The milk didn't come from IKEA.” He looks at his watch. Rehearsals for Cooper's play have been lasting all day recently; Blaine is usually in bed before his brother gets home. “Maybe I'll catch you later if I'm still up when you get in.”
He hangs up and then stands up, wandering over to the window and looking down to the streets below. He's not exactly sure how he's living in New York City and he's finding himself bored most of the time, but he figures that will pass once school starts. He got the touristy excitement out of his system during the first two days he was here, when he'd chosen to forego unpacking boxes and hooking up the television in favour of taking the NBC Studio Tour and going to see the Statue of Liberty.
Since then, though, he's barely left the apartment except for brief trips to buy milk or bread and he's decided that it's most definitely time to rectify that. Blaine grabs his jacket and his keys and heads out, determined to explore the neighbourhood.
He walks for almost an hour, and he comes across an inviting-looking coffee shop just as he's about to turn around and go home for a caffeine boost. He figures the timing is kismet or whatever, so he heads inside and orders his usual drip coffee along with a slice of pecan and walnut cake that looks so good it might as well be doing a little dance on the counter top yelling at him to buy it. Choosing to take a seat in an armchair by the window, he roots around in his pocket for his headphones, plugs them into his iPhone and settles back in the chair with his coffee warming his hands.
He spends a happy couple of hours people-watching out of the window, ordering another cup of coffee followed shortly afterwards by another slice of that cake. Before he leaves he tracks back towards the counter to stuff a couple of extra dollars in the tip jar, and then heads outside to try and get his bearings so that he can figure out how to get back home.
Blaine makes a habit of it for the rest of the week. He spends his mornings pottering around the apartment - arranging things on his new bookshelves; deciding where to put the rug he just had delivered; figuring out which window gets the best sunlight in case he actually gets around to buying any plants - and then in the afternoon he heads out, taking a book with him and aiming for the little café.
By day three, he's capable of finding his way there without getting lost en route, and the baristas are starting to recognise him. He changes his order every day, trying whatever that day's speciality coffee might be, or deciding between a slice of cake and a piece of pie depending on what mood he's in. It means the staff can't get his drink ready before he orders like they used to at the Lima Bean, but they still tell him how nice it is to see him again and how they're glad he's becoming a regular. He doesn't even care that they probably say that to all their regular customers because it's just nice to feel remembered in such a big city.
One day he gets completely lost in the world of The Princess Bride, so when somebody nudges his shoulder it makes him jump. He yanks his headphones from his ears and turns to see the tiny brunette barista - he promises himself he will learn their names soon - standing there smiling at him with her fingers through five mugs and a stack of plates balanced on the other arm.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” she smiles again. “You looked like you were in a world of your own there and I feel bad for dragging you back to the real one, but we're closing up.”
Blaine glances at his phone and blinks in shock when he sees the time. At least four hours have passed since he last checked the clock. “Oh, wow. I didn't realise I'd been here so long.” He looks around the place and realises that the sign on the door has already been flipped to closed, and while he's not the only person left the numbers are dwindling and everybody's gathering their things and starting to leave.
She laughs a little. “That happens a lot. We have a very calming atmosphere.”
Blaine fumbles with his things, stuffing his book back into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder as he stands up. He picks up his own plate and empty mug with a smile, and trails after her back towards the counter.
“Thanks.” She drops the mugs into a tray of dirty cups and takes Blaine's from him. “See you tomorrow?”
Blaine nods at her and stuffs an extra ten bucks in the tip jar when she's not looking. He's in such a rush to get out of there before he outstays his welcome that only when he reaches home does he notice that his phone isn’t in his bag. His headphones are there, but his phone is missing.
“Shit,” he mutters to himself, flopping down onto the couch and dumping the contents of his bag on the table in front of him. Once he's absolutely certain that it's missing he formulates a plan of action. Thinking back, he knows that logically the only place he could have left it was in the café, so he roots through the trash for yesterday's takeout bag and finds the phone number printed on it. He's suddenly extra glad that he talked Cooper into getting a landline for emergencies and he dials the number in the hope that somebody might still be there who could answer his call even though he knows the store is closed. But the call rings out and then clicks into a pre-recorded message with their opening hours, so he hangs the phone back on the wall and moves on to Plan B.
Plan B involves getting up early enough the next morning to be back at the café when it opens. He buys a newspaper on his way and takes a seat on a bench across the street so that he can see when they unlock the door. He tries to wait five minutes so that he doesn't look desperate but it's more like two before he crosses the street, his fingers and toes crossed that somebody has handed in his phone.
He's the first person in the store so the seat he'd been in yesterday is unoccupied. He quickly runs his hand down the back and around the side, but when there's no sign of his phone he sighs and straightens up, approaching the counter.
“Hi, uh-” Blaine squints at the barista's nametag, trying to be subtle about it and completely failing. “Natalie.”
Luckily she just laughs as she picks up her pen. “Hi Blaine,” she smiles, scribbling his name on the side of a fresh cup. “What can I get for you today? You're not usually here so early - change of routine?”
Blaine grimaces and half-shrugs. “Actually I was just wondering if anybody might have found an iPhone? I'm pretty sure I left mine here last night right before closing.”
“Oh, that sucks,” Natalie exclaims as she finishes scrawling on his cup. “Let me just go and check in the back for you.”
“Thanks.”
He stands and stares at the counter full of cakes and pastries until Natalie returns empty handed. “Sorry,” she smiles sympathetically. “There's nothing in the lost and found and there's no note from Lucy about anything valuable being handed in. The best I can do is keep looking out for it for you.” She pushes a napkin and her pen towards Blaine. “Leave me your number, though, and if I hear anything I can get back to you right away.”
Blaine quickly jots down the number of the landline and his email address, explaining that email is probably the easier way to get hold of him while he doesn't have his cell, and Natalie slips the number into her apron pocket. Before Blaine heads off home to mope he buys a slice of orange and almond cake to take with him in the hope that it might improve his mood.
He's turning to leave when Natalie calls him back, holding a cup of coffee towards him. “Medium drip,” she smiles. “On the house.”
“Oh,” he frowns, reaching out automatically and taking it from her. “I didn't order...”
“I know, but you order that more often than anything else and you look like you could use a boost this morning.” She smiles at him again and Blaine's starting to worry she's flirting with him - if she is, he hasn't helped matters by giving her his number. Before he can try to clarify or explain she rolls her eyes, shooing him away with a laugh. “There's no strings attached - take it before I change my mind.”
Blaine relaxes and nods gratefully. “Thanks.”
“Oh, and Blaine?”
“Yeah?”
“Have you tried calling your number? You know, to see if anybody answers?”
Blaine feels like he must have taken a stupid pill to have not thought of that idea before now. On the way home he makes a detour to Best Buy and picks up a disposable cell, hoping he won't have to use it for long. He realises that he could just call from the landline but there's no facility for voicemail and if by some miracle somebody does try to get back to him, he wants to be contactable.
The first thing he does when he gets home is set up his new phone and call his old number. He's heartened by the fact it rings out before it goes to voicemail, because that means that wherever it is, it's still switched on.
You've reached Blaine, leave a message.
All of a sudden he realises he hadn't actually thought about what to say in this message. “Hi, um. My name is Blaine, and this is my phone that I stupidly managed to leave behind when I was getting coffee last night.” He stops for breath, trying to figure out what kind of message would make him want to return a phone if he were to receive one of the same kind.
“Basically, I'm hoping that you're some kind-hearted soul who will agree to either meet with me or mail my phone back to me. I swear you'll receive some kind of karmic reward at some unspecified point in the future if you do. I can't afford to give you an actual reward, I'm really sorry, but - actually, if you don't want to give me the whole thing back, could you just mail me my contacts? Then you can keep the phone if you want to. Or sell it, or whatever, I'm sure you're strapped for cash, isn't everybody these days? But yeah. If you could just... I'll text my address to you - me, I guess, although maybe not any more - and then I'll just... wait.”
Blaine is well aware that his message has degenerated into rambling, but he figures either this person is going to return the phone or they're not. He fires off a text message with his address - another risky move, he knows - and then heads into the kitchen to find a plate, planning to eat his cake and wallow in his stupidity.
He doesn't hear the phone beep when the text message arrives, but he eventually sees it when he picks up his phone planning to call and leave a pre-prepared and slightly less insane voicemail. Hi, Blaine. This is your phone. I'm looking forward to coming back to you.
He replies as soon as he reads it. Seriously? Oh my god, I love you.
He's gripping the phone so tightly while he stares at the screen willing a reply to appear that he almost throws it up in the air when it beeps shrilly as another new message comes through. I'll meet you at the café tomorrow at ten.
Blaine has a moment of stupidity which he blames on the excitement-slash-relief of the situation when he replies with Which one?
How many cafés have you left phones in recently? Please tell me you're not forgetful enough that it's more than one.
Blaine laughs to himself, a little giddy now that things are looking up. Oh, right. Yeah. I'll be there! Thank you so much, mysterious stranger! He follows it up almost immediately with a more practical message: How will I find you?
I'll find you. Also, Kurt. My name is Kurt. Although mysterious stranger has a nice ring to it.
Blaine clutches his new phone to his chest, grinning. Yay! Thanks! I'll see you tomorrow, Kurt!
-
Blaine pushes open the door to the coffee shop and looks around him. He knows he's late and out of breath and he didn't have time to do anything with his hair this morning so he's basically a hot mess right now. He's still finding it hard to believe he was careless enough to lose his phone in the first place and his faith in human nature is pretty low in general, so he's not really confident that he'll get it back even if this Kurt guy shows up. He spent most of last night concocting horror stories about things that can happen when you agree to meet up with random strangers who send you text messages and he almost didn't show up because of that, but, well, phone. He's only a month into his plan and he can't afford to buy himself out of the contract and get a new one, despite what he said in his voicemail about only wanting his contacts back. The crappy prepaid Nokia he picked up yesterday is absolutely no match for his iPhone and there's only so many times he can poke fruitlessly at the screen before remembering that this particular phone has buttons. Actual freaking buttons.
“Are you Blaine?”
Blaine spins around trying to locate the voice. His eyes are still adjusting to being inside so it takes him a minute, before he spots a guy waving at him from the same table where he'd left the phone behind in the first place. Kurt - he assumes - is holding the phone out towards Blaine in his left hand.
“Oh, thank god you're still here. I'm sorry I'm late - I'm new in town and I misjudged how long it would take me to get here on a Saturday morning.” He's too embarrassed to admit that he slept in because the alarm on his replacement phone didn't wake him. He reaches out for his phone, but before he can take it Kurt pulls his hand back towards his chest, leaving Blaine grasping at fresh air. “What's wrong?”
Kurt shrugs, scrunching up his face in thought. “I feel like maybe it would be irresponsible of me to just go handing this over, willy-nilly. I need to be sure it's really yours.”
“How?”
“With a test.”
“Um... okay?”
Kurt grins and leans back in the chair, gesturing for Blaine to sit down. He unlocks the phone and swipes through a few of the screens, considering his options. “Okay, first question. What's your wallpaper?”
“My cat.” Kurt nods, accepting the answer, but Blaine continues. “Her name is Willow. I miss her - my parents and I haven't had chance to make the arrangements to move her out here with me yet.”
“You don't get extra points for information I can't corroborate. Everybody knows the key to a good lie is in the details, you could just be trying to throw me off.”
“Oh. I'm not, though. If that helps.”
Blaine blushes slightly as Kurt raises an eyebrow and scrolls to another screen of the phone. “Who's your most frequently called number?”
“My brother.”
“Unless he's stored in your contacts as 'bro', I'm going to need a name.”
“Right. His name is Cooper. He's listed as Coop.”
Kurt nods again. “Okay. I think you pass.”
Blaine grins. “Yay!” He holds out the palm of his hand with a tentative smile. “So do I get my phone back now?”
Kurt nods again. “Just as soon as you get me some coffee. Non-fat mocha.” Blaine stands up, hesitating slightly, and Kurt smiles back at him. “I'll look after this until you get back. Wouldn't want you losing it again already.”
“And you won't just disappear with it as soon as my back is turned?”
“If I was going to do that, why bother showing up at all?”
Blaine considers, trying to keep the smile off his face. The fact that Kurt is already laughing at him isn't helping with that. “Maybe it's how mysterious strangers like you get your kicks?”
“I promise I'll be waiting right here. With your phone.” He drains the last of the coffee from the cup he'd already been drinking when Blaine arrived. “Get yourself one too, and we'll see if we can eliminate at least the stranger part, shall we? I'd like to keep hold of some of my mystery, though.”
Blaine does as he's told, heading for the counter and smiling when he realises that it's Natalie who's serving.
“Hey, Blaine,” she smiles at him. “Any luck on the phone front?”
“Actually, yeah,” he nods, gesturing towards Kurt. “That guy found it and brought it back to me.”
Natalie leans on the counter and pushes herself onto her toes until she sees Kurt, and then grins when she recognises him. “So that's a non-fat mocha for Kurt, what can I get for you?”
Blaine suddenly realises he's curious what Natalie knows about Kurt, but decides against asking anything complex when he notices the growing line of people behind him. “Medium drip again, please.”
“Coming right up.”
He pays for the drinks and then moves to the bar at the end to wait for them. He tries to sneak glances back at Kurt as he waits but he's never been particularly good at anything stealthy and Kurt spots him right away. Kurt rolls his eyes and waves the phone at him as if to say I told you I'm not going anywhere any time he catches Blaine looking until finally Blaine makes it back to their table with their two cups.
“One non-fat mocha.”
“Thanks.” Blaine watches as Kurt takes a sip and then slides the phone across the table to him. “It's all yours.”
“Thank you.” He pauses. “Can I ask you a question now?”
Kurt hesitates and then nods. “Sure. Go ahead.”
“Why did you take my phone instead of just handing it in?” He holds his hands up in defence, suddenly realising how his question might be interpreted. “Not judging - I got it back after all so I'm happy. Just wondering.”
Kurt shrugs a little. “I, uh.” He frowns before he answers, and to Blaine it looks as if he's wondering that too. “I was just coming out of the bathroom and I saw you leaving - I noticed your phone right after you walked through the door so I grabbed it and headed out, thinking I could catch you, but you were gone by the time I made it outside. And when I turned around to come back inside, they'd already locked the door behind me.” He looks up at Blaine and smiles. “I figured I'd wait and see if you got in touch and if you didn't I'd call one of your contacts and get an address to mail it back to you or something. I didn't think that far ahead because lo and behold, you did get in touch.”
“Well, thank you for being so responsible. Seriously. I really appreciate you doing this for me. A lot of people would have just sold it.”
An amused smile spreads across Kurt's face. “Especially after you gave me permission, right?” He laughs as Blaine smiles bashfully at the memory of the crazy message he'd left for Kurt. “Anyway,” Kurt continues. “It's no big deal.” He takes another drink of his coffee and then leans back, sizing Blaine up. “So, new in town?”
“Huh?”
“You said you were late because you're new in town. How new? For school, I assume?”
Blaine nods. “Oh, yeah. It's a big change, I just moved a couple of weeks ago from Ohio. I don't think-”
Kurt's eyebrows shoot up, but Blaine doesn't notice so Kurt interrupts. “Ohio?”
Blaine looks up from his coffee and nods again. “Yeah, um, I went to school in Westerville. I mean, I don't know why you would-”
“Oh my god!” Kurt's hand flies to his mouth as he interrupts Blaine again, and Blaine self consciously reaches to pat down his hair in case Kurt has suddenly noticed what a mess it is. “I knew you looked familiar but I figured you just had one of those faces!”
Blaine's really not sure how he's supposed to take that. One of what faces? “What?”
“You were that Warbler. The main one.” Kurt smiles while Blaine just continues to look slightly bemused. “I went to McKinley, I was in New Directions.”
“No way,” Blaine breathes.
Kurt blushes under Blaine's sudden intense gaze. “Don't strain yourself too hard trying to remember me - I didn't have any solos when we competed against you.”
“No- wait.” Blaine reaches out, touching Kurt's hand lightly without even realising he's doing it. “I do. I remember - didn't you have a part when you guys did all those Jackson songs for Sectionals in my junior year? The Warblers were already through to Regionals so I came along to check out our competition. You were really good.”
Blaine can tell from the way Kurt smiles that he's flattered at the genuine recognition. “Yeah. That was me.”
“So are you studying performance too? I'm majoring in musical theatre at Tisch.”
Kurt shakes his head a little and Blaine's pretty sure his memory of Kurt being amazing is an accurate one. He wants to ask why not, but he feels like that would be weird so early in the conversation. It's probably not the kind of thing people who just met should be asking each other. “No - fashion. I'm in my second year at FIT.”
“Now I feel even worse about throwing on the first clothes I found on my floor this morning.”
Kurt laughs, and Blaine thinks he looks relieved that he hadn't pushed the subject. “You look fine. You could call it crumpled chic. You're pulling it off, anyway.”
Now he's pretty sure that Kurt's just trying to be nice rather than honest, but it's still the longest conversation he's had with anybody he's not related to since he moved here so he appreciates it anyway. “Thanks.”
“You know,” Kurt starts. He's staring off out the window, looking like he's lost pretty deep in his memories. “I think you would have beaten us at Regionals that year if you'd taken the solos instead of letting that creepy jackass Sebastian have them.”
Unfortunately, Blaine has chosen this exact moment to take a mouthful of his coffee, and in an effort to keep his mouth closed so he doesn't spit it back out (attractive), he ends up snorting some of it up his nose. Hearing that name is the last thing he had expected to happen today, although in hindsight he probably should have anticipated it once the Warblers became part of the conversation. Once he finally manages to swallow what's left in his mouth and get his coughing under control, he looks back up at Kurt, who smiles apologetically.
“Sorry.”
“No, no. It's fine. I just... I still regret just handing those solos over like that. I guess I was just blinded by love.” He considers his phrasing. “No, not love. Like. Affection. I don't know.”
“I heard some poor kid from Vocal Adrenaline was almost blinded by something a little more sinister than that, thanks to Sebastian.”
Blaine looks down at his cup, avoiding Kurt's eyes. “Yeah. Rock salt slushie.”
“Did you really date him? I thought that was just a rumour.”
Blaine nods glumly, still staring down into his coffee. “Yeah. He never acted like a - what did you call him? Creepy jackass? He didn't act like that around me. I realised afterwards that was just because he was trying to get into my pants.”
“He blackmailed my friend Rachel to try and get her to agree not to sing at Regionals so that you guys could win.” Kurt's tone isn't accusatory, but Blaine feels guilty anyway.
“That was actually the reason I broke up with him. One of the reasons. I found out about that, and the slushie, and various other stunts he'd pulled on other showchoirs in the state. I broke up with him, I went to the principal, and he was expelled. I haven't seen him since, or even really heard his name.” He looks up now, and smiles. “Hence the choking.”
“Sorry about that.”
“You already said.”
“Well I'm saying it again.” Kurt smiles and Blaine can't help but smile back. “Listen, I have to go, but we should continue this conversation sometime. I'm actually sharing an apartment with Rachel these days, I'm sure she'd be thrilled to thank you in person for your part in getting Sebastian kicked out of school.”
Blaine nods dumbly as Kurt stands to leave. “That sounds great. Definitely.”
Kurt is gone by the time Blaine realises they didn't exchange numbers first.
---
Blaine to Kurt: I can't believe you stored your number in my phone.
Kurt to Blaine: I can't believe it took you over a week to notice I had.
Blaine to Kurt: What if I was some total creepy freak? I would be running around, unsupervised, with your number.
Kurt to Blaine: 1) I'm still not completely convinced you're NOT a freak and 2) What exactly would you do with my number, supervised or otherwise?
Blaine to Kurt: 1) Hey! 2) I don't know, I didn't think that far ahead and 3) Are you busy?
Kurt to Blaine: Now?
Blaine to Kurt: Yes.
Kurt to Blaine: Not particularly. Why?
Blaine to Kurt: I've been in New York for almost a month and you're the only new friend I've made. I was wondering if you might be free to show me around. Help me!!
Kurt to Blaine: I'll meet you at the café in an hour.
-
Blaine makes sure he's early this time, so when Kurt arrives he's already sitting on the bench outside holding two cups of coffee. He also made sure to dress a little better today - his hair is gelled and he remembered to put on some shoes where the sides are still attached to the soles all the way around instead of looking like something out of Sesame Street.
“I got you this,” Blaine starts, smiling warmly and offering Kurt one of the cups.
Kurt returns the smile. “Thanks.” He waits while Blaine stands and gathers his things from the seat beside him. “What happened to the crumpled chic?”
Blaine blushes a little and shrugs, straightening his bow-tie nervously with his free hand. “I didn't want you to be ashamed to be seen with me. Fashion majors probably shouldn't be seen out and about in Chelsea with guys who look like hobos.”
Kurt chokes back a laugh. “You didn't look like a hobo, but thanks for saving me the embarrassment.” He turns to start walking and motions for Blaine to follow him. “So, do you live around here?”
Blaine nods as he falls into step beside Kurt. “West 23rd. I'm sharing with my brother right now, but he's hardly ever home.”
“And you said you're at Tisch?”
“Yeah.” He watches Kurt with interest. “Why?”
“We have limited time. I'm tailoring my tour to your needs.”
“You're not going to charge me for this, are you?”
Kurt laughs as he shakes his head. It's not an unkind laugh, so Blaine grins in return.
“Though,” Kurt starts, slowing slightly. “I would never say no to a tip.”
Blaine snorts. “Here's a tip - don't try to be helpful by returning the phone of a lunatic stranger, because they'll latch on to you immediately and indefinitely.” He pauses. “Seriously though, is it weird that I texted you? I'm sure you have some place better to be than this.”
Kurt shakes his head and loops his arm through Blaine's, tugging him along. “I had plenty of chances to remove my number from your phone after I met you, dummy. Why do you think I held on to it for so long before I let you have it back? In case you were secretly the bad kind of crazy.”
“Oh. Right.”
“I'm happy to be your New York Yoda.”
Kurt leads them off in a sort-of circle, pointing out the bookstore he loves on Tenth Avenue, the best (safest) places to pick up takeout or good coffee if you're jonesing at three in the morning, and a couple of his favourite places to just sit and watch the world go by.
“So,” Blaine starts, after they've been walking for around an hour. They've mostly been making small talk, not really talking about anything other than the places they're walking past. “Do you live around here too?”
Kurt laughs a little and shakes his head. “No, not any more.” He looks up at Blaine, who's watching, waiting for him to continue. “I lived on campus last year so I know the area. It turned out that dorm living wasn't really my kind of thing so Rachel and I found an apartment in Brooklyn. It's kind of tiny and the commute sucks compared to last year, but I just love having my own space.”
Blaine knows how that feels. After spending two years boarding at Dalton and having to share a room, he was thrilled when his parents informed him that because Cooper happened to be moving to New York too, they were going to buy an apartment for them both to live in. The news he was going to have his own bedroom for his first year at college had actually made Blaine do a happy dance at the time. “Does Rachel go to FIT with you?”
Kurt snorts and then covers his mouth in embarrassment. “Please pretend I didn't just make that noise.”
Blaine laughs loudly, and Kurt grins as Blaine shrugs helpfully and replies, “What noise?”
“It's just - Rachel at fashion school is one of the most ridiculous things I've heard. No. Rachel's actually a musical theatre major at NYU, like you, except she's at Steinhardt. She's going to be studying in Florence next semester so I'll have the place to myself - we weren't sure how that would work, but her parents agreed that it made sense for her to have a base to come back to so they're covering her share of the rent while she's away.” He looked up at Blaine who was just watching him, listening carefully. “Why am I telling you all of this? I'm sure you don't care about my housing situation.”
“No, I do. My brother is usually either out or asleep, so I feel like I've barely heard another human voice in the last two weeks. This is nice.”
“Is your brother at school too?” Kurt stops dead in his tracks and gasps theatrically, covering his heart with his hand. “Do you have a twin? Are there two of you?”
Blaine cackles and laughs. “Actually it's kind of the opposite. Cooper is almost ten years older than me. He's an actor - he lived in California until a few months ago, when he somehow managed to get cast in an off-Broadway play and suddenly decided that the stage is his true calling.” He rolls his eyes at the thought. “He's kind of a ridiculous human being, but he's been like this my entire life so I'm used to it.”
“And you love him anyway?”
“Something like that.”
“I live with my step-brother's ex-fiancée.”
Blaine blinks at the apparent non-sequitur. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. And I love Finn like we're related by blood but Rachel is my best friend - so believe me, I understand complex family situations.”
They stop for tacos at a Mexican place and Kurt tells him in an exaggerated whisper that he suspects the tacos may secretly be laced with drugs because they're incredibly addictive. Blaine pays for both of them while Kurt's busy insisting he was only joking about the tip thing, but Blaine's happy to take care of it. And even though he agrees when Kurt says he'll only let Blaine pay provided he can do the honours next time, it's mostly because he gets a little thrill at the idea of there being a next time at all.
-
They meet up again the following Saturday. Kurt turns up armed with notes from Rachel, and Blaine is just exiting the café carrying two cups of coffee when Kurt arrives. Aided by Rachel's suggestions they spend the next few hours discovering the area around Tisch before eventually stopping for more coffee in a tiny café near the school.
“I kind of feel like we're cheating on the other place,” Blaine muses as they wait for their drinks, and Kurt laughs as he hands over the cash, having finally gotten Blaine to agree to let him pay for something. They find a vacant table and take a seat. Kurt snaps his biscotti in half and offers a piece of it to Blaine, who wants to be polite and refuse but it's biscotti and he just can't do it. “Thanks.”
“I could tell you wanted it by the way you were staring at it with heart-eyes before I even ordered. You were just too nice to ask.”
“That's not true!” Blaine exclaims, blushing, because it totally is. “I could have ordered it myself if I wanted it.”
“But you know I would have wanted to add it to my order, and you would have felt bad for making me pay for it. We may not have known each other for long, but I can see your manners coming a mile off, Anderson.”
Kurt's grinning and Blaine can't help but grin back and accept the damn biscotti. He dips it in his coffee and they sit in silence for a few minutes, absorbing the caffeine.
“So you can tell me to butt out if you want, but I have a question.”
Kurt raises his eyebrows over the rim of his coffee mug and swallows his mouthful of mocha before answering. “Go on. Ask.”
“Why fashion?”
“Sorry?”
“I mean, like.” Blaine sighs and pauses, trying to rework his sentence so it doesn't come off as insulting. “I can tell you clearly have a flair for design, so that doesn't surprise me, but your singing was so good. How come you're not at NYU with Rachel, or something?”
Kurt's back stiffens slightly, and Blaine's all of a sudden wishing he'd just kept his mouth shut. “Contrary to popular opinion, performing isn't the be all and end all, Blaine.”
Blaine immediately shakes his head, trying to take it back. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have - I worded that badly. It's just that I went back and watched your sectionals performance again on YouTube - Rachel was excellent at documenting all of your performances - and you were phenomenal. Any of the performing arts schools would have been lucky to have you.”
Kurt eyes soften while Blaine is talking and he relaxes back into the chair, looking slightly less like a cat about to attack. “I'm sorry. Living with Rachel has made me a little sensitive when I think somebody thinks I've made the wrong choice. She loves me, but she can't see it either.” He sighs a little. “I do love performing, but it's just not what I see myself doing long-term. I got the part of Tony in West Side Story for our musical senior year, more by default than anything else, and I really did enjoy it, but not in the way I felt like I should if I was going to devote my life to it. You know?”
Blaine nods. “And fashion makes you happy.” It's not a question, because he does get it. Kurt lights up when he talks about outfits or fabrics the same way Blaine feels when he thinks about being on stage.
“It does.” He pauses. “I did apply to NYADA and NYU - as well as Ohio State at my Dad's insistence as a backup - but I knew after the first night of West Side Story that FIT was where my heart really was. The thrill I got from putting the costumes together was so much greater than the excitement I felt under the spotlights.” Kurt looks up at Blaine and smiles. “Does that make sense at all?”
Blaine can't help but smile back because actually, he knows exactly how that feels and he's finding himself constantly amazed by how much he and Kurt have in common. “My Dad wanted me to study English at Harvard. It became pretty clear to me that he'd been okay with Cooper's career choice because he still had one son left to get a 'real' degree, so my plans were kind of a disappointment to him.”
Kurt reaches out to touch Blaine's hand and Blaine concentrates on not blushing. “As much as I'm sure you would have made an excellent English major, I don't think the world deserves to miss out on your talent for the sake of keeping somebody else happy. College is your first step towards being an adult and that means making the big decisions for you and you alone.”
Blaine grins. “And how's that working out for you?”
Taking a sip of his coffee while he considers for a second, Kurt beams back at Blaine. “Pretty good, I'd say.”
-
Kurt to Blaine: Are you awake?
Blaine to Kurt: Almost. Why?
Kurt to Blaine: I need to call in my favor, if you're not busy.
-
When Blaine shuffles out of his bedroom after showering and giving Kurt directions to his place, Cooper is leaning against the counter, a bowl of cereal in one hand and a spoon in the other. His eyes are scrunched shut and he's muttering something Blaine can't quite make out until Cooper opens one eye and looks down, and Blaine realises there's a script open in front of his brother.
“You know I can run lines with you if you want,” Blaine yawns, pulling open the refrigerator and grabbing the orange juice. He figures that after over a month of rehearsals Cooper shouldn't actually need to run lines any more, but since that apparently isn't the case he's still happy to lend a hand.
“Thanks, Blainey, but I got this.” Cooper grins his thousand watt smile, and Blaine sighs and wishes that just once Cooper could bring himself to be genuine in front of him.
“Whatever.” He pours his juice into a glass and shoves the carton back into the refrigerator before turning back to Cooper. “Listen, Coop, are you going out today?”
“Yeah, I have a meeting with my manager in an hour.” He sticks the bowl in the sink and then looks back up at Blaine. “Why?”
“Just wondering.” Blaine takes a drink of his juice and takes his time swallowing it, wanting to seem nonchalant. “Just, Kurt's coming over and I was hoping you'd be.. you know. Elsewhere.”
Cooper's suddenly grinning his face off and Blaine inwardly groans at what that means. Cooper slings his arm around Blaine's shoulder and continues to grin that stupid grin. “Oh, don't worry little brother. You and Kurt will have the whole place to yourselves.”
Blaine narrows his eyes at Cooper. “Why are you talking like that?”
Cooper shrugs. “You know why. Just try and keep it to your bedroom, okay?” He gestures into the living area. “I have to sit on that couch.”
Blaine gapes at Cooper, his cheeks suddenly unbelievably hot. “Coop, Kurt and I aren't- I mean, he's not- we're just friends.”
Cooper doesn't look like he believes Blaine. “Oh. You've been talking about him a lot, that's all.”
“Because we're friends, Coop.” Blaine's speaking through gritted teeth now and he can see Cooper's noticed, because his brother drops his arm from around Blaine's neck and shrugs.
“If you say so,” Cooper heads out of the kitchen, grabbing his keys from the hook by the door. Just as he finishes putting on his jacket, there's a knock at the door.
Cooper pulls the door open before Blaine can get to it and Kurt is standing on the mat with a bag slung over his shoulder, a little out of breath from rushing across town.
“Hi, um, is Blaine-” Kurt interrupts himself mid sentence when he looks up at Cooper's face, and gapes at him.
“Hi,” Blaine stands a little way off to the side behind Cooper, and waves for Kurt to come in. Kurt doesn't move, though. In fact he doesn't even seem to notice Blaine's there at all until Cooper clears his throat and makes a move to get out into the hallway and Kurt snaps back to reality.
“Nice to meet you, Kurt,” he starts, making it all the way through the door and past Kurt before turning back to Blaine. “Remember what I said about the couch.”
“Get out, Cooper!” Blaine's pretty sure he's blushing a deep red again, and he can only hope that Kurt hasn't noticed. He kicks the door shut as Cooper runs off down the steps to the main front door, and turns around to find Kurt staring at him.
“Your brother is the Free Credit Rating Today guy.” It's a statement, not a question, and one Blaine had to field a lot in the three years Cooper did those ads.
“Yeah.”
“I - I've met him before. He did a workshop at my school.”
Blaine's a little surprised, but it's not a complete shock. “Oh. Yeah. He somehow got talked into doing one at Dalton my junior year - which was mortifying, by the way - and loved the attention so much he started touring pretty much all of the schools in the state.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. If you ask me, I think his manager loved the idea because it meant he didn't have to deal with Cooper for a few weeks, but as far as Cooper's concerned he was basically doing charity work by sharing his 'special talent' with all of Ohio.” He takes Kurt's coat and hangs it up, using it as an excuse to compose himself. When he's satisfied his cheeks have stopped burning he turns back around to lead Kurt into the kitchen. He realises he's subconsciously avoiding the couch and that's entirely Cooper's fault, but at least by heading for the kitchen instead he's able to pass it off as being a good host and wanting to offer Kurt a drink or a snack.
“Coffee?” Blaine holds up a cup and Kurt nods, so Blaine flicks on the coffee machine, glad that Cooper had already used it this morning and that for once he'd brewed enough for more than just himself.
Kurt slides onto a stool at the breakfast bar and watches as Blaine moves around the kitchen, rooting in the cupboards for something edible and finding some cookies that aren't quite out of date yet. He shakes them out onto a plate just in case Kurt decides to read the packet and realises they might have been in there for a while. By the time he deposits a mug of steaming coffee in front of Kurt and sets the plate on the table, Kurt has pulled a sketch pad and pencil out of his bag, as well as a tape measure.
“Thanks.”
Blaine's staring inquisitively at the items on the table but he decides to let Kurt bring them up when he's ready. “You're officially our first guest, by the way.”
“I'm honoured.” Kurt puts his coffee down on the table and twists in his seat to look around the room, taking in the décor. “I like it,” he comments after a while. “It's very minimalist.”
Blaine laughs a little. “That's because Cooper and I both suck at interior design so we bought as little as we could get away with without the place echoing like crazy. Plus, we're allowed pets so hopefully I'll be getting my cat back soon.”
“Willow, right?”
Blaine grins, thrilled that Kurt remembered. “Yeah. I've had her since she was a kitten - she was a get well gift from my mom when I had to miss a couple of months of school in Freshman year.” He decides not to elaborate about the dance, it tends to bring the mood down and he still needs to find out what Kurt's favor is. “I named her Willow because I spent the entire time watching Buffy reruns.”
“Cute.”
“Yeah. The thing is, though, she does love to ruin furniture. So we're basically limited to decorating with things we don't mind getting scratched to death, and putting things in places she can't reach.”
“Well, I like it. You've got a really great space, and the high walls mean there's still plenty of cat-safe potential.”
“Isn't 'potential' usually code for 'needs a lot of work'?” Blaine grins, and Kurt laughs at him.
“It means you get to add to it as you go along, make it really yours. There's no rush to do that.”
Blaine blushes slightly, he can't help it. There's something about the way Kurt's looking at him that makes Blaine's chest tighten a little, and his voice is quiet when he replies. “Well, feel free to give me suggestions. I would be honoured to have you as my personal advisor.”
“Speaking of which, here's the thing,” Kurt starts, suddenly seeming nervous, which is a look Blaine hasn't seen on Kurt before. Kurt's picked up the pencil and he's twirling it around between his fingers in a way that Blaine can't help but find kind of mesmerising. “And you can say no if you want to. Really, it's not a problem.”
“How about you ask me first before you start assuming I'm going to say no,” Blaine laughs softly. His tone is gentle, and Kurt huffs out a laugh too before tucking an invisible hair back into place as if it were some kind of reflex move.
“Right.” Kurt takes a deep breath before continuing, and the pause is long enough that Blaine's starting to imagine all kinds of horrible things that Kurt might be steeling himself to ask. “I was wondering if you would model for me.”
Blaine bites his lip. “Model as in...”
“As in, I would like to design some outfits and I'd like you to be my model.” His eyes dart between Blaine and the pad and pencil in front of him, and back up to Blaine. “Oh, god, I mean - not model as in, you know. Life drawing.”
Blaine tilts his head back and laughs, he can't help it. Potential nudity had flashed through his mind as one of the worst case scenario options so when Kurt first asked the question there was a brief moment when that was exactly what Blaine thought he meant. He's relieved that it wasn't because he's not sure he could handle that. “For school?”
Kurt bites his lip again and shakes his head a little. “No. Well, not exactly.” He pauses. “Basically I want to design a range of outfits with a real live human being for inspiration. The classes I'm taking this semester are going to teach me certain things, like draping, and I want to try putting them into practice without the pressure of being graded on it at the end. You know, so that if it all goes wrong the only frustration will be that I've wasted my time - and yours, I guess, if you're willing - but it won't affect my grades if I don't finish.”
Blaine's still kind of stuck on the fact that Kurt wants to use him for inspiration, because that's a total honour. “Is this because you want to fix my crumpled chic?”
Kurt grins. “Not at all. In fact, it's kind of because of how much I like your crumpled chic. With the bow-ties and the highwaters - you're giving me all kinds of ideas.”
Blaine grins and reaches for a cookie. “Then I would love to be your model.”
Kurt smiles for a second, and then looks down at his fingers. “Just so we're clear... I can't pay you, or anything. There's literally nothing in this for you except being stuck with me all the time.”
Blaine shrugs, still smiling. “That's absolutely okay with me.”
Kurt grins, lifting up his sketch pad and flipping open to the first page. “I hoped you'd say yes. I already got a few ideas down.”
-
By mid afternoon Blaine is lying flat out on the couch, flipping one of Kurt's pencils between his fingers and trying to look even half as dexterous as Kurt had earlier. Kurt's curled up into the armchair, his pad balanced on his knees but not really drawing anything other than the odd line here or there.
“So what's Cooper's story?”
Blaine frowns when Kurt asks. He remembers the girls at his middle school constantly freaking out about how hot Cooper was and asking Blaine if he had a girlfriend. It did not do wonders for Blaine's confidence that the only thing his friends cared about was whether or not his brother was available. “What do you mean?”
“Well, when he did that workshop at McKinley, he was all about how Broadway is dead and nobody goes to theatre, and ignore your scene partner because it makes your acting choices more reliable.”
Blaine relaxes back into the couch and just laughs at the memory of his own experience of the Cooper Anderson Masterclass. “Yeah, well. Like I said. He's a ridiculous human being. He's completely anti-Broadway until his agent points out there might be a part for him and then suddenly oh, it's the best thing ever.” He sighs. “I won't complain, though. I'd be living in dorms if he wasn't here.”
“And he got a part, right? So at least it worked.”
Blaine just hums in response. “I guess.”
Kurt cocks his head slightly and smiles at Blaine. “No you don't. You have an opinion, I can tell.”
“It's just...” Blaine sighs and wriggles into a sitting position, propping himself up on his elbows. “It's a terrible play. I read the script.”
“How terrible?”
“It's meant to be pro-gay rights, right? It's set a hundred years in the future and basically everybody is gay now. They outlawed heterosexuality in order to try and keep birth rates down-”
“Wait, seriously?!”
“Yeah. So they've done that, and then the main character in the play - which of course has to be Cooper - has been cryogenically frozen and when he wakes up he's in this future where he's basically an outcast for being straight. And Cooper is so excited, Kurt. He keeps telling me how he's doing this for me, to bring attention to 'our situation' - his words, not mine - but oh my god, Kurt. The script is just so offensive. In like a hundred different ways.”
“Wow.”
“All the lesbians turn out to be faking.”
“Wow.”
Blaine suddenly leaps over the back of the couch, padding off into the kitchen and finding Cooper's script still lying on the counter, retrieving it before he heads back into the living room towards Kurt. “It seems like their main way of portraying the fact that they're in the future is by putting the word 'hover' in front of everything. Hover car. Hover ball.” He passes the script to Kurt who starts to thumb through it while Blaine lies back down on the couch.
“'It's not my fault if I like to take it up the front'?! Jesus Blaine. You weren't kidding.”
“He's going to expect me to come and see it. I don't know if I can handle that.”
“I'll come.”
Blaine blinks. “You- you will?”
“It's going to be a train wreck. We can sit in the back and mock, and then when Cooper asks, you don't have to lie and pretend you enjoyed yourself because you really will have had a good time - it just won't have been for exactly the right reasons. Now,” Kurt puts his sketch pad down and stands up, reaching for Blaine's hand and pulling him to his feet too. “Can we act some of this out? Please?”
Blaine giggles and nods, taking the page Kurt is thrusting at him. “Do you want to be the straight guy pretending to be gay in order to be allowed to run for governor, the gay ex-campaign manager who gets to actually be out and proud now he's in this insane heterophobic future and runs for governor himself, or the lesbian campaign manager who turns out to be secretly straight?”
Kurt blinks. “I didn't understand anything you just said. Just tell me which one is Cooper's part and let's get started.”
-
When Cooper gets home, it's already dark outside but Kurt is still there. There's an America's Next Top Model marathon playing on the TV, takeout boxes from the Thai place a few blocks away that Kurt recommended are scattered on the floor, and Blaine is standing on the coffee table. His legs are spread slightly apart and his hands are planted on his hips like he thinks he's Superman. Kurt is kneeling on the floor behind the table with his tape measure held up the back of Blaine's left leg, and neither of them hear Cooper come in until he's standing right beside them.
“Squirt, when I said not on the couch, I meant keep it in your bedroom.”
Blaine jumps at the sound of his brother's voice, spinning around and almost kneeing Kurt in the face as he leaps down from the table. He's pretty glad that the table hasn't collapsed under his weight - considering he assembled it himself he had half expected it to fall apart as soon as he stepped up there.
“Coop!” Blaine grins, feeling happy enough from the day he and Kurt have spent that he can choose to ignore Cooper's lewd subtext. “Kurt is making pants for me!”
Kurt snorts. “I think that's probably my cue to leave.”
Blaine helps Kurt gather up the sketches, stationery and random pieces of fabric that are scattered around the floor. They'd been careful to put Cooper's script back in the kitchen as soon as they'd exhausted themselves from laughing, in case he noticed it had moved and asked questions. “I'll walk you out.”
“It's fine, really. I can see the door from here. Technically even if you stay where you are, you're seeing me out.”
“See you Saturday for coffee?”
Kurt nods and smiles as he straightens his bag on his shoulder and looks back up at Blaine. “Our new tradition, wouldn't miss it. I want to hear all about your first week at school.”
Blaine waits until Kurt's gone and then picks up the empty Thai containers and takes them into the kitchen to drop them in the trash, where he finds Cooper with his head in the refrigerator. “You can stop counting your beers, Coop, we didn't have any.”
Cooper straightens up and pulls out a beer, not denying that's what he was doing, and leans back against the fridge after he closes it. “You seriously expect me to believe there's nothing going on between you two?”
Blaine rolls his eyes. “Yes. I do. Because there isn't.”
Cooper shrugs as he twists the cap off his bottle. “Well, maybe there should be.”
Blaine chooses to ignore Cooper's comments as he sits back down in front of the TV, flicking Next Top Model off and channel hopping in search of something the two of them can agree on. It's not as if Kurt's not hot, because he absolutely is. And it's not that he hasn't considered whether there could be something between them, because the thought has definitely crossed his mind. But they've only been friends for a few weeks, and before today they haven't spent more than a couple of hours straight in each other's company.
The last time he met a cute guy and fell for him in such a short period of time, Sebastian happened. Blaine's not ready for something like that to happen again. Right now, he knows he's much happier getting to know Kurt as friends than trying to push anything further and ruining it all.
Part Two