There was a knock on the door, and Blaine paused in tying his bow tie to answer it. It was his father, so he stepped away from the door to let him in as he returned to the mirror to finish his task.

"Really, Blaine. I could arrange for Jacobs to assist you with that after he's dressed me. It would be no trouble at all." The tone of slight disapproval was there in Charles' comment. 

Finishing the bow tie, Blaine patted it with satisfaction and turned to face the older man. "Father, we've discussed this before. I'm used to taking care of myself. I look alright, don't I?" He gave a small grin as he waved down at his suit. 

Jacobs had already unpacked and ironed the clothes Blaine would need for the voyage, and Blaine was perfectly capable of shaving himself and styling his own hair. 

He preferred having the suite to himself than having servants underfoot. Without his father's knowledge, he'd slipped Jacobs a few banknotes to agree to visit the chamber only after lunch, when Blaine was out and about, to tidy up and take care of Blaine's clothes. 

Charles gave him a cursory once-over and nodded with a huff, turning on his heel to look around the room. "Your room is slightly smaller than mine."

Shrugging on his suit jacket, Blaine smoothed down the lapels. "Perhaps, but it's the biggest suite I've ever had on a liner. And it's so new and beautiful." 

He still couldn't get over the luxurious surroundings. The bed was a double with curtains tied back at the corners. There was a finely upholstered chaise lounge, and a round table with two chairs in dark walnut. Brocade wallpaper covered the walls above the wood panelling. The floors were of that new material, linoleum, richly patterned to look like a Persian rug. Electric lighting fixtures kept it bright even when it was a rainy day like today. 

"I still don't see why our suites are so far apart though." Charles grumbled as he strode to the door, and out into the hallway. 

Blaine locked the door behind him, pocketing the key. "I heard Captain Smith discussing it last night at dinner with Mrs. Brown. Apparently there has been a coal strike lately and White Star had to take coal from their other ships to run Titanic, and many passengers from the ported liners were moved here." He kept his face neutral, but he was secretly glad to be a floor away.

Charles pushed the button on the first class elevators. "That is interesting, Blaine, but I want you to focus your attention on the young unmarried women at dinner tonight, instead of crazy nouveau riche women and silver-bearded men. I hear Miss Wilde will be at the restaurant tonight, so please be pleasant."

Blaine nodded, not wanting to verbally commit to anything involving Miss Wilde. Out of all the women he'd met so far on the ship, she terrified him the most. 

As they entered the restaurant, they were quickly greeted and led to their table near the window. The sun was beginning to lower on the horizon, the sunbeams more golden in hue at this time of day. 

Charles read over the menu and looked impressed. "They said in the newspaper that they were trying to make this restaurant feel like a sidewalk cafe in Paris, and I'd say it looks quite good. I hope the food measures up." 

The server approached and Blaine could hear his father discussing the wine list as he struggled to read the menu. He had never been that good in French class. 

"Um, excuse me, could I ask you about the menu?" Blaine asked quickly before the server could rush away. 

The server paused and turned around, and Blaine froze in shock. Nicky. Here. Working in a French restaurant on the same ocean liner he was travelling on.

Luckily his father was reading the menu and didn't notice Blaine's reaction. Nicky gave him a warning glance, and a slight shake to his head, stepping close to his side. 

"Oui, Monsieur. What can I help you with?" His tone was calm and professional. His face didn't betray anything out of the ordinary. Didn't show any signs of being shocked or flustered at seeing Blaine here. Didn't he remember? Didn't he care?

Blaine swallowed hard, trying to calm his thumping heartbeat and fast breathing. He pointed to an item on the menu, far too affected by Nicky's closeness. "Um, the dish is veal with foie gras, yes?" He wasn't sure if what he'd said made sense or not. 

Nicky seemed to be holding back a laugh, his blue eyes gleaming. "Ah, Oui, Monsieur. But may I be so bold as to suggest the magret de canard roti au thym et miel?" 

At Blaine's lost look at Nicky's fast French, he smiled slightly and bowed his head. "Duck roasted with thyme and honey, in a red wine sauce."

"Um, yes, I'll have that." If only he could order Nicky with a side of honey and wine. 

Charles closed his menu with a snap. "That sounds delicious. I will get that also." 

Blaine's breath caught in his throat as Nicky nodded at Charles, and turned to walk away from their table. He let it out when he saw no sign of recognition on his father's face. Nicky was just another servant to him. He was always polite to them, but rarely dealt with them besides giving orders. Jacobs was the exception.

A million questions were whirling around Blaine's head, making it hard to keep up his side of the conversation with his father. But he had to act normal, keep the facade in place. He didn't want to do anything that would make his father take a closer look at their server.

When his father was chatting with another passenger, Nicky passed Blaine a note, clearing away some dishes to cover his actions. Discretely, Blaine opened it with shaking fingers on his lap. The small scrap of paper only had a time and a place on it. 

And when Nicky brought by their coffee and chocolate eclairs, Blaine was able to catch his gaze and give a small nod. Yes, he would be there. 

---

The boat deck was vacant this time of night, and a little windy. The canvas covers on the large lifeboats flapped against the wood with each gust. 

Pacing around, Blaine felt tense, and kept glancing towards the stairway. Would Nicky show up? How would he explain everything?

Fishing his pocket watch out of his vest pocket, Blaine could see it was just turning 9:35 now. He was late. 

Shoulders slumping, Blaine wondered how much longer he should stay up here. Should he go now, and look for Nicky at the cafe tomorrow?

"Sir, can I offer you a blanket? You look chilled." A crisp, British voice said from behind him and Blaine turned to shoo the steward away. But he was surprised to find Nicky there, giving him a devious grin. 

"You, you...," Blaine started and couldn't resist taking Nicky in his arms for a tight hug, feeling overwhelmed with emotions. 

Nicky let out a surprised oomph at the tightness of the hug, and then wrapped his arms around Blaine to return it, his hold just as tight. 

Pulling back, Blaine just took in Nicky's face, still in awe that he was here, really here. Still so beautiful, his eyes seeming to glow in his expressive face. Blaine leaned closer, needing to feel those lips again. 

But Nicky stepped back, looking around to see if anyone was near. "Be careful, Blaine. Anyone could see us." And taking his arm, Nicky tugged him along the promenade. 

There was a less well lit area, and Nicky pulled him towards it, lifting the canvas from the edge of a lifeboat. "Crawl in here. We'll be out of sight." 

Chuckling to himself, Blaine crawled into the dark space, feeling the wooden benches inside and crouching near one. Soon Nicky was in the boat too, and flipping the cover back in place. 

"Hold on, I brought a blanket." Nicky's voice seemed loud in the dark space, and Blaine tried to locate him with it, without success.

He jumped when he felt Nicky's hand on his arm. "Shhhh... It's just me. I've laid the blanket down on the bottom of the boat. We can lie down there, OK?"

Blaine nodded, and realized it was too dark for Nicky to see it. "Um, yes. Can you show me where?"

It took a bit of fumbling and a few bit-back laughs, but they were soon lying on their sides on the blanket. The space between the benches was tight, and Blaine's heart thumped at having Nicky so close, knees brushing. It reminded Blaine a little of a camping holiday he took with friends when he was a boy, crowded together under a canvas tent. 

But the questions couldn't be held back anymore. "Nicky, please tell me... How did you come to be working here? How do you know my name? Why does your accent keep changing? Are you French or British?"

He would have gone on, but the sound of Nicky chuckling stopped him. 

"So many questions, my dear. Don't I even get a hello kiss before I face your interrogation?" Nicky's voice was a sultry french-accented drawl, and Blaine could picture the adorable little smirk that would be accompanying it.

With a growl, Blaine leaned closer until they bumped noses, and then his lips were finally on Nicky's, as hot and tempting as ever. In moments they were breathless, pressing together the full length of their bodies, and Nicky was rocking his hips against Blaine's with a pleased little moan that was almost Blaine's undoing. 

"No, no, wait...stop. You are far too distracting. I can hardly think around you." Blaine gasped as he pulled back, trying to compose himself. 

Nicky practically purred. "This is a good thing, yes? How good we are together?" He kissed along Blaine's neck, sending goosebumps along his skin.

Blaine let out a little huff. "It is an incredible thing, Nicky. You are an incredible man. But I want to know more about you. I want more than just...ah...bodies..."

Sighing, Nicky leaned away from Blaine, and seemed to be considering what Blaine had said. Had he gone too far? Asked for too much?

Finally, Nicky reached out and slid his hand along Blaine's lapel. There was a tiny bit of light coming in from the corner of the canvas they had left open, and Blaine's eyes had adjusted to the dim light. 

Nicky's expression seemed to be playful once again. "OK, my curious cat, I will make a deal with you. You get to ask one question for every kiss you give me."

A wide, raunchy grin spread over Blaine's face. "Hmmmm, well, you better get prepared for a thousand kisses, because I have a thousand questions for you."

Nicky's eyes were pure flirt. "Only a thousand?" He pouted his lower lip out slightly. 

"Make it a million then." Blaine chuckled as he leaned close to taste that irresistible mouth. Such sass.

A few heated moments later, Blaine pulled back. "That was ten questions' worth at least." He tried to catch his breath, and moved Nicky's hand away from where he was playing with Blaine's shirt button.

"Hmmmm, I'd say seven. Go on, ask away." Nicky laid back, blinking slowly up at Blaine. 

Rolling his eyes at Nicky's haggling, Blaine nodded. "OK, still the questions I asked before to start off. How did you come to be working here? How do you know my name? Why does your accent keep changing? Are you French or British?"

Pressing his lips together, Nicky seemed to consider the answers before replying. "I am here because I know the people who run the restaurant and they were short-staffed for servers who knew English and French. I know your name because I asked a co-worker who took your reservation. My accent changes because, as you have seen, I am a performer. I take on many roles. And I am neither French or British."

For every answer, ten more questions popped into Blaine's mind. It really may take a million kisses, a million questions, to truly know this man. Not that he minded at all. 

"What nationality are you, then?" Blaine scrutinized Nicky's features closely, trying to guess. He was too fair to be Italian or Greek. His dark hair made Nordic countries less of a possibility. 

Nicky smiled. "I'm American." His voice dropped, and he spoke with a perfect Texan drawl. And then he burst out laughing at Blaine's shocked expression. 

"Come on, Nicky. You have to answer the questions truthfully." Blaine tried to pin Nicky with his managerial, no nonsense look.

Smirking a little still, Nicky shook his head. "I really am American. From Lima, Ohio, which no one has ever heard of." Gone was the Texan accent, and there was a soft Midwestern flavour to his words. "See, I'm not so exotic and mysterious now, am I? Just some boring, small town hick."

"Yeah, because you find so many small town hicks singing in sequinned gowns on a Paris stage." Blaine leaned closer, pressing light kisses to Nicky's lips, teasing. "You couldn't be boring even if you tried."

Nicky arched an eyebrow. "Hmmmm...we'll see. Two questions left."

"But I just kissed you five more times at least!" Blaine objected. 

Scoffing, Nicky shifted on the blanket. "Pecks don't count, Anderson. Now hurry up, as I better get back to my bunk soon."

"OK, OK...are you going to stay in America when we get to New York, or are you going back to Europe?" Blaine needed to know how much time he had. Was it just this week? Or could it go on longer?

Nicky's eyes were on Blaine's lips, and he felt very tempted to kiss him another ten questions' worth. But he held back, wanting the answer so badly. 

"I'm going to stay in the US." Nicky said softly, looking slightly vulnerable. "Last question of the night now, Blaine. I'm feeling a bit claustrophobic in here."

"Yes, OK...," Blaine paused, knowing this was the most important question. "May I see you again tomorrow?" 

Nicky's eyes warmed under Blaine's gaze, and he nodded. 

Blaine couldn't resist kissing him deeply then, taking him tight into his arms. This wasn't going to just be a quick, frantic episode. This was getting to know each other. This was having some time. This was talking, kissing, teasing, sharing. 

And Blaine's lonely heart was going to soak up every precious moment. 

Nicky pulled back, just as breathless and aroused as Blaine was. But he just stared at Blaine for a full minute, just taking him in. 

"I'm going to think about tonight, when I'm back in my bed. I'm going to think about your huge hazel eyes." He reached out a hand and traced his fingertips over Blaine's lips. "Going to think about these lips, the way your kisses make me feel dizzy." His hand went down to Blaine's chest. "I'm going to picture unbuttoning your shirt, and kissing along your skin."

Blaine moaned softly, shifting on the blanket. He had been so hard, for so, so long. Kissing Nicky and now hearing him talk like this...it was almost too much to take. 

But Nicky wasn't done yet. His hand slid lower, cupping Blaine's erection lightly. He groaned harshly, arching up into his touch, wanting more. 

"And I'm definitely going to be thinking about this. How hard and perfect you feel in my hand, how sexy you sound, lost in your pleasure." He squeezed a little, and Blaine moaned, knowing he was close. 

But Nicky moved his hand away. "Are you going to think about me when you are in your bed, Blaine?" 

Opening his eyes, Blaine took in Nicky in the dim light. Eyes shining, lips kiss-swollen, so beautiful, tempting and perfect. "Yes, yes, about you, every part of you..."

"Good." Nicky seemed satisfied with the answer. "And when you find your release, thinking about me, I want you to call out my name. Can you do that for me?"

Blaine was at the point of agreeing to doing anything this beguiling creature suggested at this point, he was so far gone. He nodded. 

Nodding in satisfaction, Nicky crawled out of the lifeboat, and stood nearby to help Blaine out with his wobbly legs. He quickly straightened his own clothes, and turned an assessing eye over Blaine, fixing a turned up collar and smoothing the back of his hair. 

With a quick look around, Nicky dropped a quick kiss on Blaine's lips and hugged him tight, his mouth near Blaine's ear. "I'll send you a message about tomorrow. And just so you know, for later tonight, my name is Kurt."

And with that stunning revelation, he strode quickly away, disappearing around a corner before Blaine could call him back. 

---

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: -Cafe Parisian was a French restaurant for first-class passengers only, designed to look like a sidewalk cafe in Paris. It had rattan furniture, trellis with climbing ivy and large windows for diners to view the ocean.

-Titanic boasted that they used the most innovative products, most advance technology and highest standards in the fixtures, fittings and decorations. Linoleum, one of the newest floor coverings, was used in the grand dining hall and in the staterooms. Every room had running water and electric lights, including 3rd class accommodation, which was unusual for ocean liners at the time. 

-Captain Edward J. Smith (62 yrs old), was a navy reserve officer and had served as commanding officer for White Star Line vessels for 25 years, including the successful maiden voyage of Titanic's sister ship, The Olympic, in June 1911. 

-Mrs. Brown is known as The Unsinkable Molly Brown (45 yrs old on Titanic) who went from humble beginnings to great wealth barely twenty years before the Titanic voyage, due to her husband's mining interests.