The apartment was quiet when Blaine woke up the next day, and he felt right away that Kurt wasn't home. After a quick shower, he walked over to the hotel, grabbing some coffee and a bagel from one of those adorable street carts on the way. 

Summer in New York. He was looking forward to walking, taking the subway, exploring and living like a local while he was here. His suitcase had wheels, so it was easy to walk back to Kurt's, and he enjoyed getting a feel for his temporary new neighborhood. 

Unpacking took only a few minutes; a couple nice outfits, lots of jeans and casual wear mostly. He'd stopped gelling his hair back and wearing bowties when he started at University of Michigan, going for a jeans and t-shirt student look during his time there. While never denying his sexuality, he didn't want to flaunt it either. He dressed to fit in, substituting expressing himself with his music instead of his clothes most of the time. 

During his time at university, he tried out different looks, trying to figure out what felt best, real. He'd worn the Dalton uniform for two years, then spent two years at McKinley dressed like the old guy in Up, and really needed to see what felt right. He made peace with his curls, even letting his hair grow down to his shoulders and growing a beard for a while. There were mornings he laughed in the mirror, thinking how shocked Kurt would be seeing him like that. Caveman Blaine. It was fairly short now, with loose curls on the top, his “Make a Good Impression” look. He'd probably revert to wearing glasses and light stubble soon. He wasn't used to shaving everyday anymore.

He settled on the sofa, laptop close by, got working on recording the rough demos of his song ideas. It was a productive afternoon, and with a quick run outside for some Vietnamese noodles for dinner, he headed back to the apartment and got some more work done. Striking while the creative iron was hot. You never knew when your muse would go on vacation. 

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. Peering through the peephole, he was surprised by who he saw there. He swung the door open, smiling. “Hey, Elliott.”

Elliott was quiet for a second, looking between Blaine's face and the number on the door. “Ah, Hi Blaine. I'm looking for Kurt, actually.” 

Blaine opened the door further. “He's not home yet, but you are welcome to come in and wait, if you want.” 

The taller man shrugged his shoulders, and entered. He was dressed more casually than Blaine had ever seen him before, just loose faded jeans and a long sleeved green tee. He walked over to the sofa, texting on his phone. 

After a couple minutes, he looked up. “Kurt says he'll be here in about 15 minutes. You sure you don't mind me being here?” 

Blaine shook his head, walking over to the fridge and opening it. “Not at all. We have beer, wine, bottled water…” 

Elliott asked for a beer, and they were soon both sitting on the sofa. “I actually just sent you some song demos a couple minutes before you knocked on the door, ironically.” 

Elliott nodded, took a long sip of beer, and fiddled with the label. Clearly he wasn't in the mood to talk shop in his off hours. “So, have you been here long?” He waved around the apartment, his eyes on Blaine's guitar. 

Blaine laughed. “Nah, just moved my stuff from the hotel to here today, actually. I knew Kurt back in high school, but we haven't been in touch for a while. It was a total shock to see him at the meeting yesterday.” 

Elliott raised his eyebrows, and was about to comment when the door crashed open and Kurt rushed in, looking a bit frazzled. 

“Elliott! So sorry I ran late. I'm just glad Blaine was around to let you in.” He took off his jacket, and nodded hello to Blaine. “Let me grab the stuff, E, and we'll see what works.” 

Blaine sat back on the sofa, playing his guitar softly, and trying not to be too obvious as he watched Kurt with Elliott. Kurt had dashed into his bedroom, and came out with a pile of clothes, which he laid out on the small dining room table. Elliott walked over and looked at them, asking questions. From the snippets of their conversation Blaine could catch, it sounded like Elliott was attending some red carpet music event, and Kurt was giving him the wardrobe options. It was interesting to see Kurt in full-on stylist mode. 

Things got even more interesting when suddenly Elliott Starchild Gilbert was stripping down to his black boxer briefs and trying on the various outfits, right there in the living room. As a gay man, Blaine couldn't help but appreciate his body. At 6'1, Elliott was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. His skin was a light olive all over, and didn't seem to come from a tanning bed. His muscles were nicely defined, and in balance with his body. He fit well into all the clothes Kurt selected with a natural ease and confidence. He wore the clothes, they didn't wear him. He was a probably a dream client for Kurt… it would be hard to dress him wrong. 

After tweaking a few accessories, they settled on an outfit, and Kurt packed it into a suit bag. It took less than an hour. Blaine was impressed with Kurt's stylist skill and professionalism, but it was totally apparent Elliott and Kurt knew each other well beyond a simple work relationship. Kurt had touched Elliott often, adjusting the clothes, moving around his body with ease. At one point, Elliott was looking in the full-length mirror at an outfit, his expression unsure, and he tilted a hip out. Kurt slapped Elliott's ass hard, and ordered him to try the other outfit on.  Yup, Blaine thought, watching the exchange.  They are clearly friends… or maybe something more.

Elliott didn't linger after his clothing was packed, giving Kurt a quick hug and waving goodbye to Blaine as he headed out. 

Kurt grabbed a bottle of water, and settled on the other end of the sofa, sighing. 

Blaine smiled over at him, noticing he looked a little tired. “Long day, Kurt?” 

Kurt stretched his arms straight out in front of his body, curling his shoulders. “Yeah, nonstop. Did you get settled in OK? Find some food and all that?” 

Blaine tried not to stare as Kurt sipped his water.  How could a guy make even that look sexy? “Um, yeah. All moved in now.” He looked down at his guitar, strumming lightly and aiming for a casual tone. “So, it looks like you and Elliott have known each other for a long time.”

Kurt laughed. “Oh, yeah. Ages.” He rolled his head back, looking at the ceiling, scrunching up his face. “I guess from my first summer here in New York.” 

Blaine's eyes widened, and he was glad he was looking down. “Were you two dating?” Just curious… right….

Again, Kurt laughed. “God no. I was with Adam back then.”

Blaine tried not to let his fingers falter on the guitar strings at Kurt's casual mention of that name.  Ugh, Adam. 

He was so distracted by the mention of Adam; he almost missed what Kurt said next. “Elliott and I were in a band together.” 

Blaine could have fallen off the couch from that comment. “Kurt Hummel was in a BAND with Elliott Gilbert!!? You're shitting me!”

Shrugging one shoulder, Kurt laughed at the incredulity on Blaine's expression. “I was in college and trying all sorts of different things. We did gigs during that summer, and by the fall, my class workload didn't allow for it anymore. Elliott was crushed, of course, but I think he did OK in the end.” There was a mischievous twinkle in Kurt's eyes at that comment. Yeah, Elliott went on to have five platinum selling records in a row, so far. Enigma Records was pulling out all the stops to make this next record even bigger. 

“And now you are his stylist?”

Kurt finished his water, putting the bottle on the coffee table. “Only occasionally. He usually travels a lot, and I don't want to be out of New York that much.”

Blaine nodded. “But you are a stylist as your main occupation?”

Waving around the tiny apartment, Kurt laughed. “And you can see that I'm phenomenally successful at it.” He shrugged a shoulder again. “I kind of fell into it, really. I worked hard at NYADA, got a degree with honors. Did audition after audition, and got some small roles here and there. But it was never enough to cover the bills consistently. So, I filled in the gaps with as much work at Vogue.com could give me. Got a lot of fashion friends and contacts over the years, and when old NYADA classmates were going for a big audition or media appearance, they started calling me for advice. Word spread and I have a lot of regulars now.”

Blaine smirked, unable to help himself.

Kurt hit him with a pillow. “Lots of regulars, just like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”

“I didn't say anything!” Blaine objected, grabbing a pillow for defense before getting hit again.

“Yeah, I know your expressions well enough, Mr. Anderson.” Kurt's eyes went from teasing to serious. “Why didn't you come here after graduation, Blaine?” 

Blaine bit his lip, knowing what question was hidden behind Kurt's query.  Did you avoid New York because of me? And Blaine didn't want to answer that question.

“Ah, I applied to a bunch of schools, and U of M has such a great music program. Plus a bunch of Warblers were going there, with it being so close to Ohio and all….” Blaine ran his hand through his curly hair, searching for the right words. “I wanted a broader scope of music than NYADA offered, since it's more performance centered.” 

Kurt nodded quickly, not meeting Blaine's eyes. Grabbing the DVDs off the coffee table, he flipped through them. “Want to watch ‘Velvet Goldmine'?” Elliott's new album was going to have a glam rock feel, and they both needed inspiration for the project. 

Blaine nodded, settling into his end of the small sofa. Kurt jumped up, collecting a pad of paper, pencils, and his laptop before sitting down. Blaine laughed to himself, recognizing Kurt in designer mode, and split the time watching the movie and watching Kurt. He loved seeing Kurt filling page after page with quick sketches and scribbled notes. 

Blaine wondered if becoming Kurt's roommate for the length of the project was going to be that great an idea. They kept flipping between laughing and feeling comfortable as they ever had on their best days of the past and awkward silences full of unsaid words. More than anything, Blaine didn't want to do anything to wreck their present friendship, or taint their treasured memories of their past together.  Roommates, friends, ex-boyfriends. Blaine reminded himself. 

He couldn't concentrate on the movie. His thoughts went back to his senior year, reliving it. How they had the hook-up at Valentine's Day and how good it had felt to have Kurt back in his arms again, making up for lost time. Blaine was so sure that they were getting back together, or at least heading that way. 

But Blaine's hopes were dashed during Kurt's spring break visit to Ohio. He thought they would have a good amount of time together, but Kurt ended up changing his plans to get back to Adam in New York a few days early. It was obvious that things had grown more serious between Kurt and Adam. 

Even with the break-up the previous fall, Blaine had never considered that they wouldn't get back together. He hadn't given up hope. But suddenly, he had to think in new, different ways. Blaine had to reexamine everything. His whole future. A future without Kurt. It was time to face reality and grow up. 

Did he want to move to New York if he wasn't in a relationship with Kurt? Did he want to go to NYADA? Did he even want to focus on performance? For awhile, he pulled away from McKinley friends that he had in common with Kurt, and went back to Dalton friends, like Wes. Wes knew Blaine before he started dating Kurt, and he helped Blaine see how caught up he'd been with Kurt's dreams. Dreams that weren't necessarily Blaine's. 

In the end, Blaine couldn't regret that change of plans from that spring of his senior year. He was stronger for having moved to a school he could try new things, reinvent himself. University of Michigan had been a great experience. 

The movie ended, and Kurt turned off the equipment, gathering his notes. “Sorry, but I'm not really up to watching more tonight. Just too many ideas swirling around my head and I'm feeling a bit tired. Is that OK?” 

Blaine nodded, standing up and stretching his arms over his head, arching his back. His t-shirt rode up, a flash of stomach showing, and he looked down to catch Kurt's gaze there.  Good, I'm not the only one looking. Often, his eyes traced over Kurt and he felt the urge to step closer, run his fingers down Kurt's back or his arm.

Roommates, friends, ex-boyfriends.

All the way back to his room, Blaine argued with himself about the wisdom of moving in with Kurt.  It will be fine. You are old friends, and it will be fun to hang out together. But the other side argued back.  You are still attracted to him. Sooner or later, you are going to grab his ass and make everything awkward. 

As he brushed his teeth, unbidden images popped into his head. Opening the bathroom door, and catching Kurt stepping out of the shower, skin still wet, his towel barely covering anything…

Slipping between the sheets, Blaine closed his eyes, letting his thoughts go, remembering all those times he'd been with Kurt as teenagers. Making out, rubbing against each other through their clothes, breathing heavy. As frustrating as it had been, it had also been so exciting to explore all those new sensations together. Like that first time Kurt had been kissing along Blaine's neck, his lips just lightly teasing the skin, and then he'd bit Blaine hard. It had been so unexpected, so hot. For a week or more afterwards, Blaine used to rub the mark with one hand as he jerked off with the other, loving the tangible sign of Kurt's emerging passionate side. 

All those stolen moments at his house or Kurt's, always rushed, and listening for family members to come home early. What would it be like to have a whole day in bed together, totally private, no interruptions? Time to explore Kurt's body with his fingers and his mouth, find out if the old sensitive spots still caused Kurt's breath to catch. 

Rolling onto his side, Blaine opened the bedside table drawer, and took out a small bottle of lube. Lying back down in his bed, Blaine stroked over his half-hard erection. The lube made his hand slide easily in a familiar pattern, and he was thick and hard in seconds. Blaine stroked slowly, imaging it was Kurt's hand, his mouth, giving him pleasure. Kurt had been so shy about sex back then. How would he be now? Imaging Kurt naked as he was now, and experienced in bed…Blaine's hand sped up, and in seconds, a hard orgasm made him shudder and pant, trying to be quiet. 

Immediately, he felt a bit guilty, imaging Kurt that way. They were friends, that's all. It had been 10 years, they had both moved on. Thinking any other way would just make the next few months weird. Blaine laughed at the image of hiding around the corners, and peaking through keyholes. He didn't want to be creeping around Kurt's apartment, trying to catch him changing clothes, desperate for a glimpse of skin. 

As he tried to fall asleep, random lyrics of Radiohead's Creep kept popping back into his head...

Youre just like an angel…
Your skin makes me cry…
But Im a creep….Im a weirdo….
What the hell am I doing here?
…Youre so fuckin special…

***
Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N:  I hope you are enjoying the story so far. Thanks for all the reads!

-Velvet Goldmine: Trailer for the movie is here.

-Radiohead: Video for Creep with lyrics is here.