He hadn’t realised that he had been staring. When Blaine fixed his gaze firmly back onto Kurt he saw that the other man was watching him intently, his expression somewhere between panic and lust, his eyes blown with want. After years in the game, Blaine seemed to be getting better and better at his job. This was their first date and he already had Kurt red faced, panting and if it he wasn’t mistake, hard against his thigh.

This was it. The in. All he had to do was go upstairs, give Kurt what he desperately wanted and then plan his death. He already had an idea how he was going to do that. This was going to be easier than he thought. But then there was something nagging at the back of his mind, pulling his thoughts away from poisons, knives and rope and towards the soft curve of Kurt’s neck and the way his eyes lit up when he noticed Blaine looking at him.

It would be so easy just to go upstairs with him and get this over with so he could go back to Quinn. Quinn, who probably had a hand full of new clients. Maybe another Barbie wife is cheating or perhaps a business associate needs to be taught a lesson. It’s all child’s play to them both at this point, but hey, it’s a living and each client is new and there’s always the chance of being surprised.

Like he is now.

Kurt wasn’t like the other marks. Sure Blaine never had to actually sleep with any of these men, just give them empty promises and when the time came he would just kill them. He wasn’t sure why he agreed to sleep with Kurt in the first place; it was almost an impulse answer when St James had asked him. He could lie, say they slept together, Jesse would be none the wiser, but Blaine knew he wouldn’t be able to do that. No matter what happened, Blaine needed to taste Kurt, to feel him, to have him.

“I’m not the kind of boy who puts out on the first date,” Blaine said, winking playfully.

Kurt let go of his shirt immediately, his face paling as he mumbled his apologies. “Oh God, no, I wasn’t – I didn’t mean to imply… I just… shit, I’m sorry.” His face dropped to the floor.

There was something about Kurt swearing that sent a shiver down Blaine’s spine. He made a mental note to remember that for later.

Blaine laughed. “Hey,” he cupped Kurt’s chin to pull his gaze back up to him. “Don’t take everything I say so seriously.” Kurt smiled at him and Blaine found himself returning it, dropping his guard as Kurt’s eyes flickered between his own eyes and his lips before he leant down to kiss Blaine.

This kiss was less desperate. There were no tongues, just a soft pressing of lips that lead to slow and soft open mouthed movements. Blaine’s hands found Kurt’s waist and Kurt’s hand was held against his cheek and neck, his fingers brushing over his pulse point. Blaine’s insides felt instantly warm and instead of gripping at Kurt’s waist with hard presses of his fingers, he found himself just holding Kurt with open palms.

When they broke apart their eyes locked for a moment and they both froze. Blaine’s warm insides suddenly felt ice cold as he stared into the impossibly blue gaze of Kurt’s eyes as Kurt said something so earnest and innocent that it caused the ice in Blaine’s chest to tighten and twist almost painfully, cracking around the edges.

“I really like you, Blaine.” He was smiling, with tight lips that were red and kiss swollen and rosy cheeks that were a welcome glow against his otherwise pale skin.

Blaine had dealt with a lot marks who were awful people, some of them down right bastards, who Blaine could justify ending their life if it meant people like that weren’t on the streets mixing with regular people. Kurt was the first person who in all honesty was nice. Sure he had bitched about a few things during their date, but it wasn’t nasty, almost playful and if Blaine knew him better, he would have just agreed and nodded along thinking that is so Kurt.

The only reason Blaine was stood on Kurt’s door step was Jesse’s jealously. The jealously was justified mind you. Blaine had watched Phantom four times and each time he was blown away by Kurt’s acting. His singing. The boy could hit the high notes.

He hadn’t said anything in a while and Kurt was looking worried again, almost hurt. Blaine didn’t know what to say or do, he felt suddenly trapped and quite vulnerable after two unexpected kisses. Two kisses that left his heart thumping painfully against his chest and his mouth suddenly dry, despite the fact that he’d had a tongue in there minutes before. He needed to sleep with Kurt, he knew that much, but for what reasons? For Jesse? For himself? For Kurt?

No matter what he or didn’t feel for Kurt he couldn’t sleep with him tonight. Not when he needed to figure things out and not when he had St James breathing down his neck like some deranged dragon.

“Can I see you again?” Blaine asked, trying to sound casual.

Kurt flushed pink and nodded. “Of course, when?” Kurt reached out to take Blaine’s hand, running his thumb over Blaine’s knuckles as he waited for his answer.

“How about Friday?”

“I have to be in bed by midnight,” Kurt deadpanned.

Blaine laughed, absentmindedly squeezing Kurt’s hand. “Do you now, Cinderella? Will your taxi turn into a pumpkin? Your Alexander McQueen’s into rags? What ever will your Fairy Godmother say?” He grinned as Kurt rolled his eyes, suppressing his own smile that was trying to break into his annoyed expression.

“Are you done?” He waited for Blaine to stop laughing. Blaine stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth and bit down on in playfully. “I need to be at the theatre at eight Saturday morning so I can’t stay out late. There’s a private function in the evening so they’ve cancelled the second show so I’m free then.”

“How about seven? Text me the details,” Blaine said, placing a quick kiss to Kurt’s cheek. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black pen. Taking hold of Kurt’s wrist, Blaine wrote down his cell number over his hand. He smiled up at Kurt, licking his lips. “It’ll be your turn to plan the date, so you better make it good.”

“See you, Blaine,” Kurt called out, raising his hand as Blaine turned and made his own way home.

Blaine glanced over his shoulder and called back, “See you, Cinders.”

***

Kurt had text Blaine twice between their first date and the second. The first was sent the following morning.

From Kurt Hummel
I had a really nice time last night. See you Friday. K.

The second was sent the morning of their date and was shorter; leaving Blaine wondering what Kurt had planned.

From Kurt Hummel
Wear something warm.

Blaine opted for his black skinny jeans, which of course made his ass look incredible and a button up under a maroon sweater. He jumped as his phone vibrated in his pocket.

From Kurt Hummel
19 W 49th Street

Blaine frowned, he didn’t recognise the address. At seven thirty, he put on his scarf and gloves, hailing down a cab and giving the driver the address.

He arrived at The Rockefeller Centre early, squinting around to see if Kurt had arrived yet. It didn’t look like it. Blaine looked around him; at the many restaurants and the ice rink. Were they going ice skating? Was that why Kurt insisted he wore something warm? Blaine had never skated before and if this was Kurt’s plan, Blaine’s own ideas of being seen as suave and mysterious was going to end quickly when he would undoubtedly fall on his ass.

“Blaine!”

Blaine turned round, his breath catching in his throat as Kurt hurried over to him, a huge grin on his face. Kurt too had opted for skinny jeans (hot damn), with knee-high leather boots and a long beige sweater that hugged his hips. He was wearing some furry hat that looked like moleskin and his cheeks were already rosy and flushed from the cold.

“I hope I didn’t keep you,” Kurt said, running his hand down Blaine’s arm as he kissed his cheek. Blaine shook his head. “Oh good!” Kurt bounced on the balls of his feet, looking over Blaine’s shoulder. “I thought we could go ice skating first and then to The Sea Grill for dinner.”

Blaine scrunched up his nose and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know how to skate,” he admitted. Kurt looked momentarily embarrassed for suggesting it before his face split into an excited grin.

“Oh! But I can teach you, I’ll be fun!” Kurt said happily, taking Blaine’s gloved hand in his own and steering him in the direction of the rink.

Blaine felt uncomfortable. There were children around him having their skates put on by their parents, being carried to the barrier before they unsteadily started following the flow of people on the rink. Blaine had found a pair of skates that didn’t look too horrible (“how many feet have worn these?” he wondered to himself) and he waited on the bench for Kurt to, for a better word, help him.

“Ready?” Kurt asked. Blaine wrinkled his nose, his face flushing as he attempted to stand up on his own. He was a little wobbly but otherwise okay. Kurt took his arm and they slowly made their way over to the rink. “If you really don’t want to do this, I won’t force you,” Kurt said as they reached the barrier.

“No, no, it’ll be fine. Fun even,” Blaine said, watching Kurt slip under the barrier and skid to a stop as he waited for Blaine to join him.

Blaine grabbed hold of the barrier and eased himself onto the ice, catching himself as he fell forwards a bit by gripping the barrier harder. His eyes widened with the near fall and he glanced behind him at Kurt whose gaze snapped up from Blaine’s jeans to his face. Blaine smirked inwardly.

“Do you think you can make it over here?” Kurt asked, holding out his hand. Blaine licked his lips and let go of the barrier, waving his arms slightly at his sides to gain balance. When he was sure he wasn’t going to fall, he moved his feet forwards, slidingg across the ice to Kurt who took his hand tightly. “Let’s go!

Kurt moved slowly, gliding along at a pace Blaine could keep up with. He kept glancing at him to make sure he wasn’t having any trouble and after about fifteen minutes, Blaine seemed to be getting the hang of it.

“Don’t let go,” Blaine said after they rounded a corner a little too fast and Blaine had stumbled and almost fallen. He held onto Kurt’s hand tighter as Kurt smiled at the gesture, an almost goofy grin on his face.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Kurt said. Unfortunately for Kurt, he chose this moment to sneak another glance at Blaine who in turn had done the same. Neither of them saw the small child who had obviously fallen over and was in the process of getting up when they both skated into her. Blaine yelped, flying forwards and closing his eyes as he prepared to hit the ground. Kurt let go of his hand and instead grabbed hold of his waist so that when they did hit the ice, Blaine half fell on top of Kurt, breaking his fall.

“Oh shit, Kurt, are you okay?” Blaine asked, scrambling off and placing a gloved hand to his cheek. His rosy expression was now a deep shade of red that had nothing to do with the cold November weather.

“Yeah,” Kurt said, laughing as he pushed himself up on his elbows. He pushed his shoulders back until he heard a click and glanced up at Blaine. “Are you okay?”

Blaine parted his lips but didn’t say anything for a moment. When he did speak, it was almost hoarse and his voice was almost in awe. “You – you saved me,” he said quietly.

Kurt chuckled. “Well you weren’t going to die falling over a child, so the most I did was save you a few bruises,” Kurt said, glancing over to where the little girl had pulled herself up. She glared at them and glided away with an irritated pout. “Charming,” he said, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

Blaine’s hand was still against Kurt’s cheek. He pulled it away quickly and helped Kurt up. Kurt brushed his jeans down with his hands and blinked a few times to get his bearings. They skated close to the barrier for the next half an hour, Kurt’s arm protectively around Blaine’s waist.

It was nice. It was certainly different than Blaine’s usual dates.

After they had finished, Kurt took Blaine to The Sea Grill for dinner. They started with a vegetable soup to warm themselves up and then shared the chilled shellfish platter when neither could decide what they wanted to try.

Blaine had never had mussels before. He smelled one before he tried it, pulling a face as he chewed. Kurt found this hilarious and offered him his portion of the jumbo shrimp instead. Blaine gorged himself on the shrimp, eating almost the entire portion on their plate. He smiled as he ate the lobster, remembering when he and Quinn had finished a big job last spring that paid almost double. They had celebrated with lobster and champagne, getting drunk and then dancing in Bethesda Fountain in Central Park until their clothes were clinging to their bodies and their sides hurt from laughing.

Blaine asked Kurt how his morning went at work and Kurt dove in, talking animatedly about the show like he did on their first date. Despite the cold weather and food, Blaine felt his entire body heat up.

It was after they had dessert (warm chocolate steamed pudding) that Blaine had to remove his sweater, wiping his napkin on his forehead. He coughed, feeling his head swimming slightly and excusing it as too much wine. He switched to water, feeling a little better, though still quite warm.

Like their previous date, Blaine took Kurt home. At this point he was definitely feeling off. He carried his jacket and scarf over his arm, the sleeves of his sweater rolled up. Kurt had been side-eyeing him the entire time, a worried expression consuming him.

By the time they reached the apartment, Blaine was feeling queasy and his legs ached from the walk from the subway. He also felt slightly off balance, swaying on the spot. He thought he heard Kurt say something, but he sounded far away, which was silly because Kurt was standing in front of him. Except there were two of him. That was weird.

“Blaine?” Kurt grabbed his hand. “Are you okay? You really don’t look very well.” Kurt’s voice was nervous, his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes wide with worry.

“I’m fi-“

And that’s when Blaine threw up on the sidewalk.

Kurt must have half-dragged Blaine inside his apartment because the next thing Blaine knew he was slumped on a bathroom floor, cradling a toilet that had the unmistakeable smell of vomit. Or maybe that was him? Blaine shook his head, blinking his eyes into focus as he glanced around. His head was feeling less hazy. That might have something to do with the pot of tablets and half drunk glass of water on the sink.

He gathered that this must be Kurt’s bathroom, small by normal standards, but bigger than Blaine’s. With fluffy cream towels on hooks beside the bath and various pots on a shelf above the sink. Blaine squinted as he recognised different moisturisers, face creams and masks.

Blaine looked down at himself and frowned. Kurt had obviously changed his shirt because he was wearing a red tee that read ‘McKinley’ across the chest. It was a little tight but comfortable nevertheless. He assumed he’d either thrown up over himself or sweated enough that Kurt thought a clean top was needed.

There was movement outside the bathroom door and Blaine groaned as light from the adjoining bedroom attacked his eyes in the dimly lit bathroom. (Candles were lit along the window sill).

“Sorry!” Kurt said, dropping to his knees and kicking the door shut. He smiled fondly at Blaine and dabbed a wet flannel to his forehead. “I’ll turn the light off when we go in.”

“What – what happened?” Blaine asked. He pulled a face, tasting something unpleasant on his tongue. Kurt continued to wipe his face, using the back of his free hand to feel along Blaine’s cheeks and forehead.

“You don’t remember?” Kurt asked, sounding surprised and concerned. “After you puked I helped you inside and you were really out of it. Mumbling incoherent things. I got you to the toilet okay, but you did throw up a few more times. I’m not sure if you have flu or food poisoning or what, but you’ve been asleep on the bathroom floor for a good hour and a half.”

Blaine blinked.

Kurt threw the flannel in the sink and flushed the toilet. “I managed to get you to take some medicine before you fell asleep and it must have helped.” He smiled weakly, brushing a stray curl from Blaine’s forehead. “I was going to bring you into my room but you fell asleep on the floor and looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“And the candles?” Blaine asked, picking up the scent of vanilla.

Kurt smiled bashfully. “Well, the light was hurting your eyes and I don’t have a dimmer in here so I thought they might help.”

Blaine nodded and rubbed his head. It throbbed. He half wondered what sort of ramblings he had been spouting to Kurt but that didn’t matter now. He needed to sleep. “I think I can make it to the bed now,” he said, attempting to move. His body was aching and he couldn’t stand fully without Kurt’s help. Kurt steered him towards the bed, averting his gaze when Blaine without thinking pulled down his pants so he was in nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts and the McKinley tee shirt.

Blaine’s mind was swimming again, but this time with new thoughts about Kurt. They barely knew each and yet he had cared for him in a way you didn’t care for almost-strangers. Blaine had been sick, and not just the once. He had thrown up multiple times in Kurt’s bathroom. He had been feverish (Blaine could feel the tablets kicking in relieving his fever) and from the sounds of it, a babbling mess. When he was sick as a child, his mother had looked after him sure, but Blaine had always been independent and insisted on looking after himself.

It really hit him in that moment how much Kurt must actually care for him. Like really care, to do all this. Maybe Kurt was just that nice? But from Blaine's experience, no one was that nice.

As Blaine crawled under the comforter, he smiled up at Kurt who was looking at him almost lovingly. Maybe he does care. And maybe I care too.

His last thought as he drifted off to sleep was that this pillow smelt awfully good. So good that Blaine wrapped his arms around it, pulling it close to him as he smiled against it. “Mmhmm, Kurt,” he mumbled before sleep consumed him.