The deadline for his work has passed and Kurt hasn’t gone back to the coffee shop. So many times he has wanted to, but the work swallowed him whole, and then, well, then there’s the thought that this thing with Blaine is absurd; it doesn’t seem to fit in what Kurt knows about himself and about his way to react to the outside world.
Every time that the thought of Blaine pops into his mind, which is definitely too often, he feels slightly insane. And, then, there’s this kind of fear of letting himself free to gravitate towards Blaine. He doesn’t know him at all and yet the other man has managed to slip into the web of his thoughts so easily.

Kurt can’t remember anyone who has managed to have such an effect on him, not even Andrew, and they were together for three years. But, then again, Blaine is so different from all the people whom he has met so far.

When they were sitting in front of each other at the caf�, there had been moments when a simple twitch of his lips when he smiled or the way a word sounded when he said it that made Kurt think about being back at home.

It scares him- this thing so new and bright, this desire to get closer to Blaine.

It’s Thursday morning when Kurt’s resolve to keep these inexplicable feelings in check crumbles. He has been staring at the sketch of a cocktail dress for the past ten minutes, the tip of his pencil hovering right over the paper without touching it. It’s as though his mind has gone blank, as though all this thinking about what happened that day on the train back from Montauk has wiped it clear.

A few days before he was at Rachel’s house, going through a magazine while she was getting ready to go out. His breath had gotten stuck somewhere in between his lungs when he saw a white and black photo of the Empire State Building looking at him from the glossy pages. When he had finally fallen asleep that night, it had been with fragments of Blaine’s smiles twirling in his mind like lost butterflies.

He has never been someone who runs away from himself- even when it meant facing the bullying and the name calling- and he knows all too well that there’s only one way of putting a stop to this constant buzzing under his skin.

He puts his pencil down and grab his coat. Outside it’s cold, the wind slapping him right in the face as he walks the short distance to the coffee shop. He slips easily through the crowd; he hates how nervous he feels, already wondering if Blaine will be there. What if Thursday is his day off?

Before entering the shop he glances through the window- he tries not to think too much about the small squeeze he feels around his heart as he spots Blaine handing a costumer a Styrofoam cup. He takes a deep breath and pushes the door open.

Blaine is pottering around with the coffee machine. Kurt knows he is probably wearing some stupid expression if the way the blood is rushing in his ears is anything to go by. He tries hard to collect himself while he walks up to the counter, but the moment Blaine turns around and their gazes lock Kurt knows he has done all the work for nothing.

Blaine smiles open and unguarded and Kurt already feels the corners of his own mouth lifting up.

“Your smile is infectious, you know that?”

Blaine laughs.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. It’s nice to see you, Kurt.”

His expression is serious and Kurt’s cheeks feel hotter as he blushes. For an instant he wants to tell Blaine that he has thought about coming here so many times in the past few days. But he can’t.

“Sorry I couldn’t come before.”

Blaine shakes his head, curls bobbing.

“What can I get you, then? It’s on the house.”

“What? Oh no, Blaine, you don’t have to!”

“Hey, I’m the barista, right?”

Kurt feels his knees almost buckle as Blaine winks at him.

“I…um…thanks. I’ll take an espresso, then.”

“I’m on my way. Find a seat and I’ll bring it to you, as always.”

It’s only an adverb but it hits Kurt like a punch- this easiness between them. Blaine must have realized what he said because his eyes are wide and he is babbling something about being sorry and not meaning always as really always and Kurt can’t help laughing, soft and honest, because there’s no way he could deny how adorable Blaine is when he is embarrassed.

“It’s fine, Blaine. I’ll go and find a table.”

“The one under the photo of Penn Station is free, and it’s also my personal favorite.”

Kurt blinks, because that’s exactly the photo that caught his attention the previous time. He nods and makes his way to the table. As he sits waiting for Blaine, he lets his gaze slide over the people sitting around him; he wonders if Blaine knows some of them, he wonders what Blaine has been up to these days and he finds that he wishes he knew, he wishes he could have a stronger link with him.

Blaine arrives holding a cup of espresso and a chocolate cookie- Kurt whispers his thanks feeling warm all over.

“Here you are, sir.”

Blaine bows; Kurt cocks an eyebrow and smiles.

“Oh, then you’re also an actor, Mister Blaine.”

“Mister Blaine? That’s mister Anderson to you.”

It feels so good to joke with Blaine, that Kurt almost misses the fact that he has revealed his surname.

“Then it’s Mister Hummel for you.”

Blaine smiles gently.

“Look, I can’t sit with you now or my boss will probably have my head, but…do you have a pen?”

Kurt blinks, not sure about where Blaine wants to get, but fishes a pen out of his coat’s pocket anyway. Something swings inside of him when Blaine’s fingers brush against his palm; he wonders if he has imagined Blaine’s intake of breath.

“Here you are!”

Blaine hands him a paper napkin- his mobile number written in a corner, a smiling face beside it. Kurt looks at him, trying to read those hazel eyes of his.

“Tomorrow night I’ve got this gig and, well, I thought we could hang out together afterwards? I mean if you want to…I…well just text me if you feel like it, please?”

A blush spreads over Blaine’s features and Kurt’s breath stutters at the sight.

“I…O-Okay…Thanks.”

Blaine smiles and gets up, he is already walking towards the counter when he stops and turns.

“I…I’ll be waiting your text then.”

Kurt smiles, not trusting his words and takes a sip of his coffee.

*

Kurt spends most of Friday morning chewing at his lower lip and staring at his mobile phone as though it could eat him alive. He briefly thinks to call Mercedes or Rachel, to ask them what he could do, but somehow he wants to keep Blaine to himself. It’s something that he has to figure out on his own; he sees too much lurking behind those hazel eyes not to try and make something out of the awkward dance he and Blaine have started dancing around each other.

His fingers close around his mobile and hold onto it for a while, as though it was the only thing real left before falling over the edge. He closes his eyes and once more the first thing that flashes behind his eyelids is Blaine with his ridiculous painted nails and soft voice.

I’d be happy to come over tonight. Where and when? K.

He hits send before he can re-think all of it.

*

The club is cozy and small; the stage is at end of the main room, there are few tables scattered all around and the lights are low. Kurt shifts his weight from left to right; it has been a while since he has last been in a place like this. Andrew didn’t like going to gigs, he was the kind of guy who loved classical music, and, well, Kurt loved him so classical music had to do. He remembers one of the first weekends he spent in New York, when he was still sharing a small flat with Rachel; they had gone out without an aim and had ended up in a small pub. He doesn’t remember much of the night because they both got spectacularly drunk, but he remembers the atmosphere, the music thrumming low through his body, running from his toes to the tip of his hair.

He looks around, trying to spot Blaine, but he is probably backstage, getting ready to play. Kurt doesn’t know exactly why, but the idea that Blaine seems so dedicated to music and gets to have his own gigs makes something warm curl in his stomach.

When Blaine walks on the stage, guitar in his hand, Kurt swallows dry- Blaine’s easy smile, the few shy words he says to introduce himself get stuck somewhere inside of him and Kurt isn’t sure he will ever be able to push them away.

Then Blaine starts singing and Kurt can barely breathe. Blaine’s voice is low and warm, like summer sun on bare skin, like winter nights spent in front of the fireplace. And the songs are so rich with promises and slices of life that more than once Kurt has to take long sips of his drink to try to ease the weight of his emotions with the burning of the alcohol down his throat.

When Blaine ends his performance Kurt is left with an empty glass and a heart that is so full that it might explode. For a brief instant he wonders if it wouldn’t be better to leave and go back home, but then Blaine is walking towards him, slipping around elbows and shoulders of the people filling the place.

“Hey.”

Blaine’s smile is soft, some of his curls plastered to his forehead.

“Hey.”

“Hope it didn’t bore you to death.”

Kurt shakes his head, trying to put his thoughts into words.

“Not at all! I…your music is truly beautiful…it…”

He flips his hands around, the words not being enough how the music has made him feel. Blaine seems to get it, though, because he smiles and reaches out to gently squeeze Kurt’s shoulder.

“Thank you.”

Kurt blinks and wonders for the umpteenth time how is it even possible that they manage to communicate so easily, as though words are barely necessary.

“So, why don’t I buy you another drink?”

Kurt nods and follows Blaine to the counter.

*

They keep talking and sipping their drinks until closing hour- Blaine is full of surprises, he can go from excitedly talking about musicals to talking about his childhood and adolescence.

When Blaine is telling him about that time he started singing Teenage Dream in the middle of his parents’ living room in Westerville for the holidays and knocked a vase while jumping on the sofa, Kurt already knows what he is going to say next.

“And you spent the afternoon around Westerville looking for a similar vase to replace it.”

Kurt blinks as he realizes what he has just said; Blaine looks at him wide-eyed.

“How do you know that?”

“Um…lucky guess?”

It’s nothing big but it confuses Kurt to no end- how could he know? How can he picture Blaine jumping on furniture while singing so clearly, as though he has seen him doing it?

He shrugs it off, though, as they get lost in conversation again.

*

They stand in front of the pub, simply looking at each other and Kurt can practically feel his nerves crackling with electricity. He wonders what he should say- would it be too much to tell Blaine that he hoped they could see each other again?

It’s Blaine who speaks first.

“Thanks for coming tonight, Kurt. It was…nice to spend time with you. I…really like it.”

He looks beautiful with his cheeks slightly redder and the light of the lamp post sliding over his skin.

“I…really like spending time with you too…”

Kurt hates himself a bit because he feels like a teenage boy all over again. Blaine rocks back and forth on his heels, chewing at his lower lip.

“Is…is there something wrong, Blaine?”

He shakes his head.

“No…I was just wondering if asking you to go out with me again would be too much?”

Kurt’s breath stutters in his lungs.

“Of…of course not. I’d love to.”

The change on Blaine’s features is evident; he grins, his eyes sparkling.

“Great! I’ve the perfect idea for our next date.”

Kurt’s heart slams fiercely against his ribcage at the word.

“That’s…that’s great.” He whispers breathlessly.

Finally Blaine takes a step forward, closing the small distance between them.

“It might sound stupid but…would you call me when you get home?”

Kurt blinks, looking at the hope swimming in Blaine’s eyes.

“S…sure.”

Blaine smiles before leaning in and pressing a small kiss on Kurt’s right cheek.

The warmth that blossoms in his stomach at the contact almost knocks the air out of Kurt’s lungs.

*

When he finally is under the covers, Kurt dials Blaine’s number.

“You called!”

Kurt smiles, even though Blaine can’t see him.

“I told you I would, right?”

“You did.”

Blaine’s voice is warm and happy in his ear. For an instant Kurt wishes Blaine could be there with him, to look into his eyes while they talk, to fall asleep basking in his warmth.

“I was still thinking about how nice tonight was.”

“Me too…”

“And your skin is so very soft.”

Kurt feels his cheeks grow hotter.

“Thank you, I guess?”

Blaine’s laugh swims into his ear.

“I probably should go to bed ‘cause I’ve the morning shift tomorrow. But I wanted your voice to be the last thing I heard at the end of the day.”

Kurt holds his breath, because no one has ever said something so sweet to him, not even Andrew.

“I…it’s good to hear your voice before going to sleep too.”

“I’m happy to hear that! Well, then…good night, Kurt. And remember to keep your schedule free tomorrow evening.”

“Of course. You wouldn’t tell me where we’re going by any chance?”

“Nope, it’s a surprise!”

Kurt chuckles.

“Alright, I’ll be looking forward to it then.”

Blaine’s voice is soft when he answers.

“Me too.”

“Goodnight, Blaine.”

“Night, Kurt.”

Kurt curls up under the covers; something like happiness and excitement twirling inside of him at the thought that he would see Blaine tomorrow. He hasn’t felt like this in ages, he probably never has, and yet it feels so right and perfect.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face- the ghost of Blaine’s lips on his cheek making his skin tingle.