Christmas came and went fairly uneventfully. Kurt's dad, Burt, had completely broken with tradition and agreed to come and stay with him in New York for a few days over the holiday period, and Kurt was glad to be free from all the travelling for once. Rachel had gone home to be with her family in Ohio, and Kurt would never forget the look on his dad's face when he had shown him into the room he'd be sleeping in, having always stayed in hotels before now ... Burt was quite sure he'd never seen so many shades of pink in his life, and his face as he delicately removed the giant stuffed bunny rabbit from Rachel's bed had been an absolute picture.

Their next few days together were relaxed and quiet - Burt had already done all the touristy stuff with Kurt on previous visits, so they decided to just spend time talking, eating more food than Kurt thought was humanly possible, watching all of the usual holiday shows on TV and just enjoying being together again. Kurt loved his dad so much, and was fiercely proud of him and their strong relationship.

After his dad had left, Kurt had found himself feeling incredibly low - Rachel wasn't due home for another three days and the apartment was so quiet and empty without anyone for company. He decided to throw himself into his college work, tentatively jotting down ideas for a script for a short play highlighting some of the many differences between the modern family unit and that of a typical household in the 1950s. He was soon completely immersed in his work and forgot his feelings of loneliness altogether, relishing in the peace and quiet which made writing so easy for him.

And then the racket started again downstairs.

Kurt found it hard to believe that one person could make quite so much noise at times, but he guessed that while he sometimes enjoyed having a little silence in his life, this guy found it impossible to function without his favourite music filling the entire apartment block. Kurt breathed a deep, exasperated sigh, knowing that any attempt at asking his neighbour to turn the volume down just a tad would fall on completely deaf ears, so he gathered up his laptop and slipped it into his messenger bag, grabbed his coat and scarf and made his way out into the chilly winter sunshine.

***

Minutes later, Kurt was seated on the very same comfy sofa that he had shared with the curly-haired stranger several days before, his laptop fired up and some fresh new ideas milling around his head for his script. He'd decided that his modern family unit would contain a very grungey teenager who insisted on playing his music insanely loud - he knew that his neighbour would never know a thing about how he was being made an example of, albeit loosely, in Kurt's work. Still, writing disparaging stuff about the guy made Kurt feel a bit better about being pushed out of his apartment on a regular basis due to the inability to concentrate on anything apart from a pounding, and very annoying, bassline.

He occasionally glanced up and took a sip of his coffee, relieved to see that the shop was almost back to its original half-empty state and he was able to breathe in there once more. He'd kind-of fallen in love with this place and hated the thought of having to find somewhere new to frequent if it ever got too crowded to enjoy. It had become his home from home, and he wanted it to stay that way. He smiled as he caught the eye of one of the female baristas as she cleared a table nearby. She nodded in response and gave him a little wink, before turning her attention to a new customer who was breezing past. She grinned and gave an over-enthusiastic 'Hel-lo!', unable to take her eyes off the man as he nodded 'Hey!' and made his way to the counter. And Kurt immediately saw why she was so enamoured, as his own heart gave a little flip in his chest - his oh-so-lovely sofa companion had returned.

Kurt couldn't help but stare at the man as he stood chatting with another barista while placing his order ... the way that his pretty mouth over-pronounced his words as he spoke, and how animated his face became, especially when he smiled. He let his eyes travel down the man's body, noting the familiar leather jacket which framed his shoulders and made him look a little stockier than the rest of his slight build would suggest. Dark, slim jeans and heavy boots completed the outfit, and Kurt felt a slight pang of regret that it wasn't the height of summer so that he could revel in a little more of this guy's skin, or at the very least see a bit more colour and a few less layers.

The man turned around and Kurt felt somewhat deflated when he saw a paper bag in his hand filled with some pastry or other, and a disposable cup for his drink.

Aw, please don't leave me so soon.

Kurt's pout had obviously not gone unnoticed, as the stranger glanced towards his table on the way out of the shop, stopping and flashing him a grin.

'Little less crowded in here today, right?'

'Yes, thank god!' Kurt breathed, slightly shocked that he had been so instantly recognised.

'I know - I hate when you can't move in this place. It's just ... wrong.'

'Exactly' Kurt nodded enthusiastically. The two men looked at each other for a few moments, and Kurt was suddenly aware that he was saying very little. He searched for some kind of witty remark to continue the conversation, but the glint in the stranger's eye was making it impossible for him to piece together a sentence.

So. Beautiful.

'Good Christmas?' Mr Gorgeous chimed, kicking Kurt firmly out of his trance. He blushed a little and nodded.

'Yeah. Quiet though. You?'

'Ummm - good, but not at all quiet. Lots of travelling, too much food ... and drink. You know the type. Glad to be back to normality now.'

'Oh, tell me.' Said Kurt, inwardly cursing himself at still not being able to string a full, interesting sentence together. The stranger stood nodding again, shifting his weight backwards and forwards on his heels as if searching for something else to say. He glanced down at his watch just as Kurt was plucking up the courage to speak.

'Ah, shhhhh...oot. I'm gonna be late. He'll kill me. Excuse me - gotta run.'

He?

'Oh, of course.' Nodded Kurt, smiling. 'Please don't let me keep you.'

Oh, but can't I keep you? Please??

'Good to see you again!' Kurt exclaimed as his new friend began to dash away.

Help! Was that as loud and desperate-sounding as I think it was?

The man turned around, flashed another amazing grin and dashed back, extending his hand.

'Blaine' He said, taking Kurt's hand in his own and shaking it warmly.

'Kurt.' Kurt rose from his seat politely and smiled back, a little thrill coursing up his arm as he gripped Blaine's hand.

'Kurt.' Blaine repeated slowly, holding his gaze and emphasisng the 't', making Kurt's heart leap once again. They stood transfixed again for a moment, and then Blaine appeared to give himself a little shake and said 'I'm sorry, I really have to ...'

'God, yes - go, please!' Kurt laughed, letting go of Blaine's hand and shooing him towards the door.

'I'll see you around, Kurt.' Blaine said, and gave a little wave as he effortlessly jogged backwards to the exit. Kurt smiled and waved in response.

God, I hope so.

Kurt sighed, slumping down into his seat and staring blankly at his laptop. He read and re-read the same sentence four times before he decided that he really wasn't going to be able to continue with this writing now.

'He's a cutie, huh?' A voice breathed behind him, and Kurt turned to meet the gaze of the female barista from earlier.

'Mmm-hmmm' Kurt nodded, hoping that his appreciation of Blaine hadn't been too painfully obvious, particularly when the man had been stood in front of him. 'Does he come here a lot?'

'Maybe not as often as you, but I'd say a couple of times a week, for sure. Highlight of my day.' She sighed wistfully, resting her head in her hands on the back of Kurt's sofa. 'They don't make 'em like that very often, do they?'

'Nope.'

Kurt took another sip of his now-lukewarm coffee and cradled the cup in his hands. He'd been without a companion for so long that he was beginning to have forgotten how it felt to have butterflies in his belly and that warm glow from a lingering look or the feel of a hand against his. And Blaine's hand had felt so good to hold, his soft palm fitting perfectly against Kurt's, his lightly calloused finger-tips pressing gently against his skin.

Oh dear. I appear to have a crush. And it's a big one.

He sat for another ten minutes with his eyes closed, recalling how Blaine's smile lit up his face, how his lovely eyes glinted as he spoke, how that jacket framed those sturdy shoulders. Occasionally a nagging feeling rose in his mind - he's probably straight, and even if he's not, he mentioned a 'he' ... and why wouldn't he? No-one that gorgeous should be single in this day and age. That would just be a crime against humanity.

Kurt opened his eyes again and hunched his shoulders, steeling himself up and dragging himself from his slumped position. He gathered his belongings, wrapped his scarf around his neck loosely and made his way out into the street, praying that the next time he came here, he'd bump into his new friend again.