For the hundredth time that day, Kurt glanced at the clock. The majority of the day had come and gone, and Blaine still hadn't shown up to see him. Around ten in the morning, Kurt had become slightly nervous. After the lunch time rush, he'd lost the slight skip in his step that defined him. Now it was late afternoon, and only a few stragglers were coming into The Espresso Room to order a drink.

Kurt took care of their orders automatically. Meanwhile, all he could think about was Blaine; he wondered if he had done anything that was keeping him from wanting to return. After helping out the customers that he had, Kurt began to clean up. He wiped down counters and swept the floor. He took his time, just in case Blaine decided to show up.

After cleaning the glass pastry for the third time, Kurt finally gave up. It was nearly an hour after closing time, and he had given up the hope that Blaine would come to visit that day. He sighed and stood up from where he was squatting on the floor. He rolled the knots out of his shoulders and stretched a bit before taking the washrag to the back room.

There, he sorted out a few stray cups and wrote down the ingredients he would need to buy on his way home for the next day's pastries. As he scribbled down a few items—vanilla, lemons, heavy cream—he heard someone enter though the front.

He let out a small puff of air. He was fully prepared for a wanderer who hadn't bothered to check the hours of operation on the front of the door. Kurt stepped out from the back.

"I'm sorry, but we're—oh." There was no mistaking the short, lean build of the swimmer. He looked different though. He wasn't wearing the jeans and ratty shirt like the day before, or the gym shorts like the day of his meet. And Blaine definitely wasn't wearing the Speedo that Kurt had spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at while watching Blaine compete on TV.

In fact, Blaine looked more put together than the majority of men who passed though Kurt's shop every day. He wore navy capri pants that let Kurt see his ankles, as well as a simple white collared shirt, which was made more interesting by a pair of grey suspenders. His hair was tamed with gel, though a bit too much for Kurt's tastes. It was nothing like the unruly mess Kurt had seen before.

Kurt stammered out a hello and held out his hand to greet Blaine. The shorter man smiled a little and took Kurt's hand. Then, before the other man could react, Blaine pulled Kurt to him and gave him a tight hug.

Kurt was a bit taken aback, but let himself fall into the hug. Blaine smelled faintly of chlorine, and Kurt assumed it was a side effect of spending his entire life in pools. After a moment, Blaine pulled away and looked up at Kurt.

"I'm so sorry. I meant to come as soon as I woke up, but then I got dragged out by my roommate, Wes. He was convinced that we had to go 'see the city' on our last full day and we got lost and it was just a mess."

"Your last day?"

"Well, yes. The US team is leaving tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh," Kurt's eyes dropped. Of course they were leaving. They had to go home at some point. Somehow, Kurt had managed to forget this key piece of information.

"Hey," Blaine lifted Kurt's chin until he was looking up again. "Don't worry about tomorrow. I know it's late, but maybe I can take you somewhere?"

Kurt chuckled quietly. "Maybe I should be the one to take you somewhere, considering you already managed to get lost once today."

Blaine feigned offense, "I see. I'm not British enough for you. I don't know the streets of London well enough, or drink tea every afternoon, or talk with an accent…"

"Well, to me, you're the one with the accent so you can throw that reasoning out."

"Point taken. So where are we going?" Blaine tilted his head to the side in question.

"Surprise," Kurt responded as he led Blaine out the door.

The next morning, Blaine stopped by Kurt's store before he left. He had his baggage with him and he looked somewhat rumpled, as if he hadn't had time to properly wash and dress that morning.

Kurt saw him enter, and immediately poured a large cup of coffee for Blaine. He set it down in front of the man with a muffin that he'd made that morning.

"Thank you," Blaine said with gratitude.

"For what? Coffee? My pleasure."

"For that, and for being here. For the past few years of my life, all that I've done is train. I'd forgotten what a real conversation was like until you gave me one two days ago." Blaine fiddled with the lip of his coffee cup and took a breath. "It reminded me that this wasn't exactly what I wanted in life."

"You didn't want to swim?"

"No, I love swimming. It's my passion, but I didn't want to do it like this. The non-stop competition, the crowd pleasing, the never ending parade of interviewers and photo shoots. It's all a bit too much."

Kurt furrowed his brows. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

"What?" Blaine raised his eyebrows.

"What are you going to do about the fact that you hate what you do?"

"Uhm… I hadn't thought of that. I think I've kind of locked myself into this job."

"You aren't locked anywhere until you decide that you don't want to leave."

At that moment, a large group walked in, and Kurt left Blaine at his table to attend to them. Blaine looked around him. Maybe, just maybe.

Before he could think twice, Blaine pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Wes.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Wes… It's Blaine"

"Where are you?" the voice on the other line hissed, "Coach is about to kill someone because we are all waiting at the airport for you."

"I'm not coming." Blaine said firmly. "I'm going to stay here, figure something out. I'm retiring. Tell Coach that I'll call him in a few days to figure everything out. As of now, though, I am officially retired."

"Blaine! Are you crazy? Don't answer that, of course you are. You can't leave now! You're in the prime of your career!" Blaine could hear voices on the other end as his teammates figured out what Wes was speaking to Blaine about.

He sighed a bit. "No Wes, I'm staying. End of story. I'll call you when you guys land."

"I hope you know what you are getting yourself into." Wes replied.

Blaine looked over at Kurt, who was still busy at the counter. For a moment he could see a possible future. One where he shared his life with Kurt, the man that had managed to make him fall head over heels in the space of two days and a few cups of coffee. He could see himself a year from now, teaching swim lessons to aspiring athletes in London, coming here every morning and evening to see Kurt. He could see everything that would possibly make him happy. A simple life with a simple love. He made eye contact with Kurt behind the counter, and saw him more clearly than he ever had before. He felt something in his chest that told him this was it. Now all he needed to do was trust.

"I know exactly what I'm getting into."