They talked about music as they walked through Times Square. Blaine would mention a song, and Kurt would sing a line, and with no details or regaling of memories they began to know each other through the lyrics.

At 57th street, they passed a street vendor selling knock-off handbags, and the conversation tripped away from songs and in to fashion. Blaine admired Kurt’s style; Kurt preened and pretended not to be pleased, but glowed from the inside out.

At Columbus Circle, because they’d let it slip anyway, they talked about love. They talked about The First Time (for Kurt, it was Sebastian. For Blaine, once before), and about expectations, and about that crazy, inconceivable moment when they realised that everyone who had ever told them they were unloveable had been so so wrong.

They smiled, Kurt to Blaine, Blaine to Kurt, and gave silent thanks for that.

“What has been the one defining moment of your life so far?” Blaine asked as they stepped in to the park. They seemed to gravitate closer together, silently acknowledging the horror stories about the park after sunset.

Kurt smiled, remembering.

“No details, right?”

“No details” Blaine repeated.

“The end of my junior year of high school. We were in New York for a show choir competition, and through a combination of determination, peer pressure and sheer nerve, I ended up singing on the Gershwin stage with my best friend.”

Blaine whistled, impressed.

“It was one of those moments you read about in books, you know? I just knew something without any doubt when I stood there, and that had never really happened before. I knew who I wanted to be”.

“So you’re a singer?” Blaine tried his luck.

Kurt chuckled, and swatted at Blaine’s hand by his side.

“Was a singer. Can’t tell you if I am now”.

In all honesty, Kurt realised, he couldn’t answer that question truthfully even to himself. Lately, he had lost his passion. There had always been Something About Kurt Hummel, but in the past few months, that something had dulled to a sense of obligation. He sang because he was expected to, or because Rachel needed a duet partner, or because his place at NYADA was really the only thing keeping him in New York. Yes, Kurt sang, but if he was being completely honest, he hadn’t thought of himself as a singer in a long time.

“And you?” He shook himself, turning his attention back to Blaine.

“The most defining moment you’ve ever had?”

Blaine thought for a second, his face screwed up in concentration.

“Momentous, right? That doesn’t specify good. That could mean the most embarrassing thing if it was defining, right?”

Kurt nodded.

“Then mine was in high school too. I’d got it in to my head that I’d fallen desperately in love with this guy, and that the best way to show him was to sing to him…at his workplace. Which just so happened to be a store. He let me down gently, but I had never been so ashamed as when he basically told me to stop dreaming”.

“Then why that moment?” Kurt asked.

“Because of the things he said to me afterwards. He wrote me this amazing letter, telling me that sometimes it is the smallest moments that come to mean the most. He made me see that overt gestures mean nothing when they’re not accompanied with real feeling, and that tiny things executed with love are the real moments we should look out for.”

“That’s sweet”.

“Surprisingly so for him, actually. He ended his letter by saying that five years from then, give or take, when I had grown up and learned who I wanted to be, I’d meet someone who was just meant for me when I expected it the least. It sounded like a line just to make me go away, but I remembered it three years later when I met Dan. I wasn’t looking, but I found him and I just knew”.

Kurt’s chest felt as if it was contracting, tight and stiff and jealous of what he was hearing.

“It must be nice to be that sure of somebody”.

Blaine was taken aback. He felt as if Kurt had just shared something that went far beyond a ten word sentence to a stranger. The surprise must have shown on his face; Kurt retreated very slightly, a blush rising in his cheeks.

“It is” Blaine admitted.

Kurt wished he could find the words to explain. He loved Sebastian, honestly, he did, but it had never been the kind of love he’d secretly always hoped for. Their love was familiar; it was finishing each others sentences, and sharing kisses and an apartment and opinions. It was home. But it had never scared Kurt, like he’d heard love was supposed to. It had never made him question himself. It had never really hurt, and instead of feeling grateful, he felt cheated.

Sometimes, if he was honest, Kurt thought Sebastian might not be his big-love-story. And that scared him, because despite that, Kurt couldn’t imagine a life without him. Was it settling if you really did love the person? Was it compromising your happiness if you were happy? Kurt didn’t know. That was the problem, really. He just didn’t know anymore.

“I have a question for you now” Blaine said, steering the subject away from love, and finding someone, and feeling sure.

“Oh?”

“Your name?” Blaine asked, and it was as if Kurt’s laugh had risen from the very pit of his stomach and warmed the whole night.

“Oh that’s so funny, I completely forgot I hadn’t told you. I’m Kurt”.

“Blaine”.

Kut nodded.

“Its nice to meet you Blaine”.

Kurt’s voice was relaxed, even, calm. It was nice, he thought, to really meet somebody. It didn’t happen all that often in a city the size of New York, and it happened even less that just hours after meeting you’d be standing in the middle of Central Park with only the streetlamps for light, talking about love and life and knowing as if it was something that happened all the time.

This did not happen all the time.

*

Late night became early morning as Kurt and Blaine talked about the past. They talked about loss and longing, for the people they had left behind, and the people they themselves had once been. Kurt’s eyes grew heavy, and his breathing slow, but he refused to surrender to sleep. He felt like a parachute that had been lying dormant for a while on a flat surface. Now, for the first time in recent memory, a wind was trying to creep beneath him; trying to lift him up.

Kurt wanted to be lifted.

As 1am became 2am, they talked about the future (“No details” Kurt reminded Blaine. “No details” he repeated back.) There was only so much they could reveal without breaking their own golden rule, but they talked about dreaming, and dreaming of dreaming, and the hope that one day, maybe not so far from now, they could marry their boyfriends in any state they chose, in any city, in any cathedral, or church, or registry office. They talked about things that would be important to them one day, and things that already were. Kurt called Blaine an optimist, like it was something to be ashamed of. Blaine just smiled. Kurt deserved to discover for himself that it was a byproduct of contentment.

As the light began to change, they talked about right now. About Kurt and Blaine, in this park, in this little interlude-to-life. They sat on a bench, beneath a tree, beside an ice rink, underneath the stars, and they talked about chances.

The chances of winning the lottery, or being hit by a bus tomorrow, or getting struck by lightning.

The chances of meeting a stranger in a department store, and opening yourself up until your entire being feels as if it is pouring out of you, gravitating towards them like a light. Like hope, just emanating from your body, and you really have no idea why.

What are the chances?

Kurt called it serendipity.

Blaine could agree with that. Serendipity was not fate, or stars, or destiny. Serendipity was a fortunate accident; a pair of gloves with velvet lining, or a spare few hours in New York City three days before Christmas. Serendipity was timing, and chance. Just as easily as it had happened, it could have…not. 

* 

There was only one star left when they finally grew quiet. The sun was sneaking up, and Blaine glanced surreptitiously at his watch, desperate not to leave but ever aware that his flight wouldn’t wait. He turned to Kurt, who was crumpled by tiredness but still lovely, and opened his mouth to speak.

“You have to go, right?” Kurt cut him off.

Blaine nodded, hoping his face showed just how much he didn’t want to.

“You’re not going to give me your number,just to be my friend, are you?” Blaine asked, but Kurt was shaking his head before he could even finish the question.

“Don’t you think” asked Kurt “that sometimes we have to just accept and appreciate things for what they are? This has been…something. Really something Blaine, and I’ve told you things I haven’t said aloud in years, and that needed to be said. But how do you explain to your boyfriend that you spent a whole night baring your soul to a stranger, and it was freezing but you didn’t even notice the cold, and now this guy is just…a part of your life? How do I tell him that you know things about me that even he doesn’t?”

Blaine raised an eyebrow.

“I do?”

“When I moved to New York, I thought I was sure of everything I wanted. I wanted college, and love, and then a career, and all of it in this city. I thought just getting here was the hardest part of all that. I thought that if I could just get here, all those things I was so sure I needed would find me. That was three years ago Blaine, and I didn’t know that finding out what you wanted could also work in reverse. I thought once you knew, that was it. And I’m learning now that it isn’t. Because I just don’t know anymore. And I have no idea why I just told you that, but yes, now you know things about me that Sebastian doesn’t.”

“So you’re scared?”

Kurt nodded.

Blaine leaned forward, just slightly, and took Kurt’s wrist between his fingers.

“So am I. I left my home for college too, because things happened there that aren’t the kind of thing you ever get over. I was attacked just for loving who I loved. My parents didn’t get me; still don’t actually, and like you, I was sure that if I could just get out of there, everything would be fine. I’d find my place, and I’d know. And that was exactly what happened. I found a college I love, and a career that everyone always said was perfect for me. And I found Dan. I thought I knew what I wanted, and I was right, and that is scary too, Kurt”.

“Why?” Kurt asked.

“You believe in fate, and stars, and everything eventually ending up exactly where it is supposed to be, right?”

He didn’t wait for Kurt’s response before he carried on.

“Well I believe in us. Like I said, I think we control our own destiny, and isn’t that a terrifying thought? I love Dan, but what happens if one day he decides I’m not for him anymore? What if I’m not as smart as I hope I am, and my college doesn’t understand the point I’m trying to make in my work? What if I want a career where there aren’t any openings for me? Everything I rely on could crumble, Kurt, because humans control it, and humans change their minds. And I don’t know who I am without all of that. I don’t know who I am”.

Kurt slowly let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. He slid his wrist out from Blaine’s grasp, and linked their fingers together.

“How many details have you told me about yourself tonight Blaine?” Kurt’s voice was condescending, but playfully so, like he was about dispel every point Blaine had made, but still let him win.

“None?” Blaine sounded confused, but he was smiling, Kurt noted and that was good.

“Right, none. And yet this is what I know about you. You like Katy Perry, and Sara Bareilles, and you think I have great fashion sense, so I know you have taste”.

Kurt bumped his shoulder into Blaine’s and continued.

“You’re in love, and that says nothing about him and everything about you. You can give yourself entirely to a person and be scared that he won’t reciprocate, but you still do it. I mean, you’ve given an entire night to me and you don’t even know me. So generous, that’s another thing you are. You lit up at the sight of a pair of, admittedly fabulous, gloves. That tells me you haven’t lost your sense of wonder. Tiny things can still make you so happy. I asked you about your most defining moment, and you didn’t pick one that would endear you to me, or make you look exciting. You gave me the real answer, and that’s how I know you’re honest. And just now, when I told you I was scared? You didn’t owe me anything, Blaine, but you gave me comfort, and yet more truth. So now I know you’re brave, and you’re kind. And you don’t believe in fate, and that is how I know you’re weird”.

Blaine laughed, but the mist in his eyes gave him away. He was touched.

“Seriously, though. I know nothing about your boyfriend beyond his name. I don’t know where you go to college, and have no idea what your career plans are, but I feel like I know you. So next time you’re scared about a human changing their mind, remember that a stranger could see through all that. You’re still in there, I promise”.

There was a moment. Nothing moved, or so it seemed. Neither of them spoke. They just looked, eye to eye, Kurt to Blaine, one smiling first and then the other. Kurt ducked his head, turned away.

“What?” Blaine asked.

“I don’t know” Kurt admitted. “But something…”

“Yeah” Blaine’s voice came out like a breath. “Something for me too…”

Kurt grinned.

“And that’s why I believe in fate”. 

*

They were quiet as they walked back towards Times Square to find a taxi. What is left to say when you’ve just bared your soul to a person, and now have to say goodbye? Every now and then Blaine bumped his hip with Kurt’s, and Kurt would turn his head, and beam at Blaine, like a beacon. Blaine could hardly believe this was the same boy who had snapped at him in Macy’s. The same boy who could have been so pretty if he would just smile.

“Why?” Blaine asked, and Kurt looked inquisitive, but nodded, as if he knew what Blaine was asking.

“Why did I just spend a whole night with a stranger, walking around the city in the freezing cold when my boyfriend is waiting for me at home?” Kurt clarified. Blaine’s sheepish grin told Kurt he’d got the question exactly right.

“You reminded me of me three years ago” Kurt answered, because what was the point in being bashful now?

“You looked happy to be here, and you didn’t look aggravated by the tourists. New York at Christmas is magical, and you saw that, I could tell, and truth be told I wanted to see that too. I wanted to feel the way you looked. Just…happy”.

They’d reached Times Square now, and Blaine stopped walking, turning to Kurt, reaching out for his hand.

“I am” he said.

“Me too” Kurt replied, like it was a secret, something he shouldn’t be saying. Then again, stronger this time, “Me too”.

“So what now?” Blaine asked, hating to be the one who broke this up, but practically buzzing with the tension between them. This needed to end, or it didn’t, but something needed to happen.

“What now?” he repeated, rubbing his thumb slowly over Kurt’s knuckles.

“We just say goodbye and pretend this didn’t happen? I go home, and you go back to Sebastian, and we never tell anybody where we were, or what we said?”

Kurt sighed. There was a pause, static with electricity, like anything could happen if either one of them took just one step. It was only a matter of seconds before Kurt spoke, though it felt like forever.

“Kiss me” he said.

Blaine gulped.

And then he did. 

*

They were smiling when they broke apart. Smiling, and embarrassed, and consumed by this new feeling that something had just happened, despite morals and circumstance, because it needed to. Blaine uncurled his fingers from the hair at the nape of Kurt's neck, laughed, ducked his head.

“So now I just...go?” He asked, turning to leave.

Kurt grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

“Actually, I have a better idea”. 

*

They chose Kurt’s scarf simply because it was the only thing he had with him. It was Marc Jacobs, and so beautiful, and he’d be sad to see it go, but Kurt was caught in the moment now. He’d do it, no question.

“So you write your name and number on the tag and then…?” Blaine asked, throwing himself into whatever Kurt was doing here, desperately trying to forget that five minutes ago he’d been kissing a boy who wasn’t Dan on a New York street corner.

“Then tomorrow morning, I sell it to a thrift store. If this scarf finds its way back to you, we know what happened tonight meant something.”

“I think it meant something anyway” Blaine said quietly. Kurt lifted Blaine’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles.

“Me too, obviously. But something more. Like…a meant to be together kind of something”.

Oh.

“And do you think…that?” Blaine asked, not sure even as he said it that he wanted to know the answer.

Kurt shrugged.

“I don’t know. I’m not letting myself think about it. It’s up to fate now Blaine. Now we need to find something of yours, to put your number on”.

“I don’t even live in the same state as you!” Blaine protested, but as he spoke he was already rifling through his bag, discarding things as unsuitable as soon as he touched them.

“What about this?” Kurt asked, pulling a piece of sheet music from between Blaine’s fingers, lightly grazing his skin. There would be a cut, Blaine thought. Something to prove this really happened.

“It isn’t mine” Blaine answered. “First thing tomorrow that goes back to the music library.”

Kurt lit up.

“Then it’s perfect. Look, I’ve picked up the second page. I don’t even know the title of the song. I don’t even know if it is a song. You write your number…” he placed the pen in Blaine’s hand “here. And tomorrow morning, you take it back to the library. If it falls into my hands, somehow, a million hours from here, we know”.

Blaine smiled, and Kurt clapped his hands excitedly. It was ridiculous. Yeah, it was perfect.

Blaine scrawled his number quickly, placing the music back in his bag before Kurt could catch a glimpse. Kurt grabbed his hand again, massaging it softly with his own. They were quiet for a second, then two, then a few more. It was like they didn’t need to speak. A taxi screeched past, and Blaine was snapped out of the moment. His mind flew back to Chicago, and Dan, and reality, where this-did-not-happen. Kurt saw the transition. He saw the light in Blaine’s eyes change, and felt his grip loosen. But that was fine. Kurt took back his hand.

“I’ll be seeing you, you know” Kurt broke the silence.

“I hope so. I think.”

Kurt’s heart contracted at Blaine’s honesty. This was not easy, he knew, for either of them. But it had been so…something. He smiled.

Kurt stepped closer to the edge of the sidewalk and threw his arm out towards an approaching taxi. It ground to a halt beside them, and Kurt opened the door, never once breaking eye contact. It was as if he was trying to remember every detail, Blaine thought. It was as if he was prolonging this moment in case it was the last one they got.

Blaine lifted his hand to wave.

“Cant fight fate, Blaine” Kurt said as he climbed into the cab and softly pulled the door closed behind him.

And then he was gone.