Friday morning is one of those glorious late-summer days that's sunny and warm, but not stiflingly hot, and the haze of the oppressive heat offers a reprieve as the season eases toward fall. Blaine is beyond grateful for it because he knows they're shooting outside all day and there's no way he could stand the kind of stifling humidity they've been subjected to for the last two weeks. Fall is coming, and Blaine just wants to enjoy the last bit of summer while he can.

They're shooting at an old fish camp that overlooks a glassy lake surrounded by picturesque pine trees. It's very LL Bean, and the contrast against the chic lines of Jan West's urban designs will be striking. Something tells Blaine that Kurt is going to love it.

Blaine throws on a t-shirt and a simple pair of shorts. It's not something he'd wear to work on a normal day, but knowing he'll be outside and running around, well, it just seems like he should make the exception.

Kurt shows up a little before 9, just as Blaine and Zach are setting up for the first shot. He walks right up to Blaine in long, purposeful strides, his black Wayfarers accentuating his sharp cheekbones and setting off the fairness of his complexion perfectly.

"Isn't this great?" Blaine asks, feeling lighter and happier now that he sees Kurt.

"Oh my god," Kurt says. "It's like a mosquito banquet out here, and I'm the main course."

"We've got bug spray," Blaine says, laughing. "And you'll be wearing long sleeves."

"Yes, that makes everything better. The mosquitos won't get me but I'll sweat to death," he snarks. "Thank heaven for bug spray and long sleeves."

"And thoughtful art directors," Zach says, knowing full-well Blaine personally brought the bug spray.

"He's just sucking up so I'll behave and we can get out of this heat as quickly as possible," Kurt replies, winking at Blaine.

"So I guess you two made up," Zach says with a smirk.

"Something like that," Blaine replies, not looking up from the light meter he's holding.

Zach raises an eyebrow in question, but neither of them says anything.

"Has anyone seen Yvonne?" Zach asks, obviously trying to change the subject.

"Oh," Blaine says, feeling even more uncomfortable. "Um, she's not coming?"

"She sick again?"

"I was… well, I was sort of promoted the other day. And um, well…"

"Oh my god, Blaine…that's fantastic!" Kurt says, throwing his arms around Blaine. Blaine doesn't even react for a second or two because he can't believe Kurt is hugging him. When he finally lifts a hand to press into Kurt's back, Kurt is already pulling away and refusing to make eye contact.

"Thanks," Blaine says, running a hand along the back of his neck self-consciously while Kurt bounces on the balls of his feet like an eager child.

"We should celebrate," Kurt says.

"Oh, you don't have to…"

"No, Blaine," Kurt says. "This is a big deal. You have to celebrate, and it's my treat."

Blaine presses his lips together and looks back and forth between Kurt and Zach, unsure of what to say.

"Come on," Kurt says. "Just one drink… with a friend. It's a major milestone in your career. You need to stop and appreciate it."

"But it's Friday night," Blaine says. "I'm sure you already have plans."

"Well, I do," Kurt says, looking a little uncomfortable at the admission. "But that's not until later. I have time for one drink."

Blaine isn't sure what he thinks of that piece of information. Kurt has plans, a date perhaps. But he wants to take Blaine out first. As friends.

"Zach?" Blaine says. "Care to join us?"

"Can't, man," Zach replies, looking up from where he's kneeling on the ground. "The girlfriend will flip if I don't head straight home tonight. We haven't seen each other in three days." His mouth quirks up in a smirk as he returns his attention to his camera bag. "But uh, you kids have fun."

Kurt doesn't notice the look Zach is giving them, and he clasps his hands together excitedly.

"So just you and me then," he says. "I have to go find Tina and Ben, but try and think of a place you'd want to go." And he heads off toward the cabin they're using for the day.

Blaine watches him go until he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He looks down at Zach who is shaking his head and laughing.

"From enemies to lovers just like that."

"We're just friends, Zach. It's not a date."

"Okay, okay," he says, standing up and dusting off his knees. "It's not a date. But then why are you blushing?" He brushes past Blaine and leaves him staring open-mouthed at the thought.

Convincing Zach that he and Kurt are just friends might be easier than convincing his own racing heart, which picks up rapidly when he accidentally overhears a conversation between Kurt and Tina.

"It's not like that. I asked him out strictly as friends. Coworkers even."

"Coworkers?" Tina says. "Like... friendly coworkers who occasionally hate each other and have to see one another in their underwear."

Kurt's scowls at her and she laughs just as Blaine steps around the corner and into the room.

"Technically speaking, Tina, only one of us has seen the other in their underwear," Blaine says, interrupting and saving Kurt from the same embarrassing fate he'd had to endure with Zach.

Kurt's face flushes in the split second it takes him to realize that Blaine overheard their conversation.

"Stop rubbing it in, Blaine," Kurt says, quickly composing himself. "I was just telling Tina about your promotion."

Kurt's teasing makes Blaine smile.

"Congratulations, Blaine," Tina says. "Kurt says you're going out to celebrate."

"Yes, and I told her we're just friends. It's not a date," Kurt adds quickly.

"No, of course not," Blaine says, his nerves returning now that Kurt seems flustered. "Kurt already has a date tonight, and it's certainly not me. Just a friendly celebratory drink."

He's rambling. He knows it, but it's like verbal diarrhea; it can't be stopped. He just needs to focus his thoughts on something. Anything.

"In fact, you're free to join us," he says.

Manners. Yes, Blaine thinks. This is the polite thing to do.

Tina smiles at him. "Thanks but I've got to pick the rugrat up from her dad's and then it's our traditional Friday night Disney princess marathon. I lead an exciting life, I know. But you boys have fun."

Blaine breathes a sigh of relief. Not that he doesn't like Tina, but well, that's just too much pressure on him and Kurt for their first… time hanging out outside of work. God, why did he think first date? It's not a date.

He glances at Kurt, whose eyes are closed as Tina finishes up his makeup. Wow, Kurt looks great in that blue sweater.

Not a date, he reminds himself.

"See you later," he mumbles and leaves Kurt in Tina's capable hands.

Blaine suggests a hole-in-the-wall wine bar near his apartment; one of those places that serves wine in oversized glasses that they only ever fill a third of the way and charge twice the price just because. Blaine picks it because it's familiar and he's a little nervous about being alone with Kurt again, though what he tells Kurt is they have this really amazing wine and cheese pairing thing they do every Friday night. "You wouldn't believe how much better the wine tastes, Kurt," he gushes.

Kurt looks unimpressed, but tells him he'll meet him there at 7. He has to go home and get changed for his date.

Blaine gets there first and grabs a small corner table, for absolutely no other reason than avoiding getting trampled on by people making their way to the bar. None.

The thing is, even though they both said it isn't a date — because Kurt clearly already has a date for the evening, and damn if that guy isn't the luckiest guy in town because Kurt looks amazing tonight — it feels like a date.

"I bought you something," Kurt says, a sly smile playing on his lips.

"You … what?"

"A gift," he says as if it's the simplest thing he'll ever do. "To celebrate… you."

He hands Blaine a small, brown gift bag, overflowing with teal tissue paper and a small card that reads "To Blaine… your friend, Kurt."

Blaine looks up to smile at him and says "thank you."

Kurt rolls his eyes and playfully swats his knee. "You haven't even opened it yet, silly."

Blaine's smile grows wider as he digs into the paper like a child on Christmas morning. His hands close around something soft — it feels like some sort of fabric. He tugs it out of the bag, the tissue paper falling to the floor at his feet, and finds a small, grey cotton bundle. Blaine shakes it out to reveal a t-shirt sporting the phrase "crop it like it's hot" over a watermarked image of a crop tool.

When he glances at Kurt he can see the giddy excitement in his eyes threatening to spill over. Blaine can't help himself as he giggles.

"Oh my god, Kurt. This is perfect."

"I knew you'd like it," Kurt says, leaning back a little in his seat. He waves a waitress over. "I hope it fits. I kind of guessed at your size."

Blaine holds it up to read the tag. "Looks like it'll be fine," he says. "Might be a little… snug."

"I think you can pull it off," Kurt says with a shrug.

Blaine is caught off guard by the compliment, but doesn't really have time to react or even say thank you because the waitress has just asked Kurt what he wants to drink.

"I'll take your house Shiraz," Kurt says.

The waitress looks at Blaine. "Would you like another glass?"

Blaine nods and hands her his empty wine glass. There's an uncomfortable silence for a few moments until Kurt breaks the tension.

"So tell me something I don't know about you," he says, leaning toward Blaine with genuine interest in his eyes.

"Um, well…"

"Oh come on, Blaine. Something juicy. Something you haven't told a living soul. Or wait. No… something embarrassing. A ridiculous high school story about how you got drunk at a party and made out with a girl."

Blaine puffs out a sharp laugh.

"That actually sort of happened," Blaine says. Kurt giggles.

"Really? Me too," Kurt says. "Only I wasn't drunk. I was mostly trying to prove to my dad I was straight."

"Did it work?" Blaine asks growing more serious.

"Might have been more convincing if it hadn't happened after I came out."

"That might have been a giveaway, yeah," Blaine says.

There's a small, but electricity-charged moment where they make eye contact, both laughing at the same thing and it feels like something. Like something magical is trying to take hold. A thrilling jolt of new and exciting and perfect. But only if it's captured and cherished, gets nourished and worshipped, will it grow to its full size. Only then will it expand and mature and become everything.

The moment is fleeting because, for no reason he can place, Blaine is remembering what it felt like to be 17 and just really owning his sexuality for the first time in his life. Lonely, scared, feeling unwanted and judged by his parents, and then briefly dating his friend Misty because it was easier than living the truth.

Just as quickly as it came, the moment had already passed.

"Oh wow," he says. "I just realized I'm remembering something that happened almost 15 years ago, and you're thinking about something that probably happened last Tuesday. God I'm old."

"You're not old," Kurt says. "And anyway, you look 19."

Blaine raises his eyebrows at Kurt and purses his lips.

"Okay, 24. But you're not old."

Kurt's phone buzzes and he picks it up off the table. "Shit."

"What is it?" Blaine asks. "Something wrong?"

"I'm just having a really good time," he says.

"And you have to go," Blaine says. He looks down, feeling genuine disappointment that they can't talk longer.

Kurt tilts his head and looks thoughtful for a moment before glancing down at his phone and typing out a response. He sets it down and grins at Blaine.

"I haven't even had my drink yet. He can wait a little while longer."

Blaine feels something flutter in his chest at that. He tries to tamp it down because if he lets it unfurl and take flight, it might get away from him. And it's too soon. So he convinces himself that maybe Kurt's just being nice because he doesn't want to be rude by not actually having a drink. Because anything more than that is just a little terrifying and maybe, if he doesn't think about it too much, a little bit wonderful.

Still, there's a small part of him that hopes Kurt is staying because he enjoys Blaine's company; that they really can be friends. Because this man, this striking god of a man, is too good to let go. Although, how Blaine knows that already is not something he's willing to address, even in his own inner ramblings.

As if on cue, their drinks arrive. Blaine practically lunges for his glass, needing the distraction of something to do with his hands. The waitress sets down the cheese plate he ordered before Kurt arrived and asks if they need anything else.

Blaine's voice seems to be failing him, so he just shakes his head at the same time Kurt says "no thank you."

When they're alone again, Kurt's lips part obscenely around the rim of the wine glass as the deep burgundy liquid passes over them. His bottom lip is full and pouty where it grips the thin glass. Kurt's eyes close as he holds the wine in his mouth, savoring the flavor of it. Blaine watches as his neck contracts and he swallows. It might be the most erotic thing he's ever seen.

"I'm so glad you wanted to do this, Blaine," Kurt says as if he hadn't just been making love to his wine while Blaine grew increasingly aroused sitting next to him.

Blaine blinks a few times, trying to clear his head, and smiles at him. "Thank you for celebrating with me," he says, lifting his glass to Kurt.

"To new adventures," Kurt says.

"To new adventures," Blaine replies, clinking his glass against Kurt's. They both drink with their eyes locked on each other and Blaine is certain it's another moment, but then Kurt's phone buzzes on the table, and it's gone. Kurt glances down at it and frowns.

"I'll be right back," he says. "I need to make a quick call."

Blaine watches Kurt walk through the crowded bar and out the front door. From their tiny table he can just barely see Kurt pacing the sidewalk in front of the bar's front window while he talks. For a second Blaine sees Kurt's face, and he looks annoyed, but it's fleeting because when Blaine sees him again, he's walking back through the bar and smiling tentatively at Blaine.

"So, I guess my date had to cancel," he says with a shrug.

"Oh, Kurt, I'm sorry."

Kurt waves him off. "It's okay," he says. "Just means you're stuck with me then."

"It would be my pleasure."

After that they order a bottle of wine and another cheese plate.

"So tell me about high school, Blaine," Kurt says. "Were you out?"

"Not at first," he says, remembering what his first high school had been like. "I was kind of shy."

"You?" Kurt teases, mouth open in mock surprise. "Never."

"Shut up," Blaine says. "Do you want to hear this story or not?"

Kurt gestures for him to continue while he takes another sip of wine. Kurt absently licks the rim of the glass and Blaine has to avert his eyes to keep from tackling him there in the bar.

"So, as I was saying," he continues. "I didn't really come out until spring of my freshman year. And uh… well, it was kind of tough for me. I was teased, which led to bullying." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "Which led to getting assaulted after a school dance."

"Oh my god," Kurt says. "That's awful."

"It was a long time ago," Blaine reassures. "Anyway, after that my parents sent me to a private school with a zero-tolerance bullying policy and I came out of my shell. Joined the school's a capella group, even had a boyfriend." He tips his glass in Kurt's direction and takes another sip.

Kurt's eyes go wide and a playful grin lights up his face.

"You sing?"

Blaine nods.

"Are you any good?"

"Well, I was the lead singer of the Warblers," he says. "I can hold my own."

"Me too," Kurt says.

"You were the lead singer of the Warblers?" Blaine asks. Maybe the wine is dulling his senses a little.

Kurt laughs. "No, but I was in my high school's glee club. We won nationals my senior year."

"Small world," Blaine says.

"Isn't it though?"

They sit talking like that for hours — discovering that they both grew up in Ohio; Kurt tells Blaine that his mother died when he was 8; Blaine tells Kurt how he always felt like he lived in his older brother's shadow — until their server returns to ask if they want another bottle, which would actually be their third if Blaine's counted correctly. His head is spinning and he's not quite sure he's ready to leave, but it's getting late.

"Um, maybe just our check," he says.

"It's on me," Kurt says, his words coming out slurred and giggly as he reaches for his wallet.

"Fine, but then you need to finish this cheese," Blaine says, holding it out for Kurt to take.

"No way," he says, shaking his head to emphasize his point. "That will go straight to my hips, and I've had enough dairy to last me for the next month."

"Oh come on," Blaine says. "Your hips are fine. Trust me, I should know. I've spent hours staring at them."

"Of course they are," Kurt says. "Yoga, cardio six times a week..." Kurt trails off and gapes at Blaine.

"For work," he says, eyes wide. "I meant for work. I have to edit a lot of photos of you and I have to retouch sometimes, and your hips. Well, they're just not problematic. That I've noticed."

"Oh right, work," Kurt says, waving of Blaine's rambling. "Of course. I knew that."

Silence envelops them again, but this time instead of a heated tension, it's like easing into a warm bath. Kurt's eyes are shining and bright. Blaine just wants to lose himself in them.

"I should probably go," Kurt says suddenly. He stands and sways on his feet.

"Whoa," Blaine says, reaching out for his hand and pulling him back into his chair. "Easy there."

"I'm fine," Kurt says. "Just caught up– I mean, got up too fast."

"I should probably call you a cab," Blaine says.

"What about you?" Kurt says, pouting. He looks adorable and sexy, and if Blaine doesn't get out of here soon, he's going to do something really stupid like kiss him.

"I live within walking distance," Blaine replies. "I'll be fine."

"Whereas I'm a hot mess," Kurt says, swaying in his seat.

"I wouldn't say that."

"Well, what would you say?" he asks.

Kurt smiles at him, eyelids heavy, lips a flushed a deep pink from the wine. He looks like pure sex.

Blaine swallows around the cotton feeling in his mouth. If he says what he wants to say, it could be a turning point. That path is probably best left unexplored at this point.

"I'd say, we both need to sleep this off."

"Fine," Kurt says. "I just don't wanna go home."

"Well, I don't think you should have any more to drink tonight," Blaine says.

"Easy, old man. That's not what I meant." Kurt giggles. "I want to go to your house," he says.

Blaine doesn't respond right away. He's not sure what to think, but he knows Kurt is in no state to get himself home, and Blaine's apartment is only three blocks away.

"Ok," he says, sounding far more shaky than he would like.

They stumble through the door, Blaine dropping his keys and nearly having Kurt fall on top of him as he bends to pick them up. Blaine flips on his hall light and tries to extricate Kurt from his lightweight sweater, but they're both stumbling and Kurt is giggling and half asleep, and there are a lot of buttons. So Blaine gives up and leads Kurt into the living room.

Kurt sits and Blaine removes each one of his boots gently. He eases Kurt down on the couch, careful to make sure a throw pillow is beneath his head. Then he grabs the fleece blanket from the back of the sofa and drapes it over Kurt's legs.

"Blaine?" Kurt mutters, eyes closed and voice heavy with alcohol and sleep.

"Yeah."

"I'm really glad I canceled my date."

His breath catches. Did he hear that right? He waits, thinking Kurt might repeat himself or clarify. But he's silent. When Blaine hears Kurt's breath even out, he's all but certain he's fallen asleep.

"Me too," he says into the darkness. "Goodnight, Kurt."

He resists the urge to kiss Kurt's forehead and stumbles his way to his bedroom, unsure if he's more drunk off the wine or the realization that Kurt had canceled his date to be with him.