Kurt looked appraisingly around Layla's Café as he entered, taking note of the warm wood furnishings and colorful wall hangings.  The place smelled enticingly of fresh bread and rich coffee.  He spotted Blaine at a table by the window, his attention focused on the phone in his hands.  Kurt paused, taking a moment to enjoy looking at Blaine.  There had been so many times that he ached to see him again, and now he was right here in front of him.  Whatever Blaine had gone through to reach this point, he looked awfully good now, Kurt observed.  His curls fell softly over his forehead, he had a little smile on his face, and he seemed relaxed.  His well fitted polo pulled attractively over his chest and biceps, which seemed to be even more nicely defined than they once were.  Quite a difference from sad, teary, hospital bound Blaine.  Kurt felt a pang of guilt for not being there for Blaine's transformation, but he was damn proud of Blaine for what he had accomplished.

He walked over to the table, shuffling his feet a little to give Blaine some warning.  “Fancy meeting you here,” he said lightly as Blaine looked up.

“Kurt,” Blaine said happily, looking slightly stunned at the same time.  “You're early.”

“Just a few minutes.  Hope that's okay?”  There was an awkward moment as Kurt realized that Blaine was trying to decide whether to stand up and greet him or not, so Kurt quickly leaned down and gave Blaine a peck on the cheek, then took the seat across from him. 

 “Of course it's okay.”  Blaine grinned. “Hi.”

Kurt squirmed a little at the intensity of Blaine's gaze, and gave himself a quick once over.  His gray vest hadn't come unbuttoned, and he certainly hadn't spilled anything yet.  Blaine seemed happy to just keep staring at him.  “Like what you see?” he asked finally. 

“Kurt, you have no idea.  I don't think the phrase ‘glad to see you' ever really meant anything to me before now.”

“Oh my god, Blaine,” Kurt buried his head in his hands on the table, his face burning. He hadn't prepared himself for flirty Blaine, let alone full speed ahead earnest Blaine.

“What?”  Blaine asked, teasing.  “Should I not have said that I'm happy to see you?  ‘Cause if you'd prefer a blow by blow of my thought process today, as I debated whether the fact that I'm this excited about seeing you makes me clinically insane, I can share that as well.”  Blaine reached across the table and poked Kurt's arm until he raised his head.  “I can try and recreate it if you want, you might find it amusing.”

“You're ridiculous,” Kurt managed, smiling at Blaine.  “I missed you.”  Kurt hadn't meant to go there just yet, but there was something about Blaine's no holds barred declaration that just blew down all of his walls, like the house of straw faced with the big bad wolf.  Except that Blaine wasn't a big bad wolf, he was more like a cute, cuddly puppy.  A sexy, irresistible puppy, if there was such a thing.

A waitress appeared, setting down two large cups of coffee in wide mugs.  “Would you boys like anything else?”

“Kurt?” Blaine asked.  “They have some great chocolate almond croissants, if you're hungry.”

“No, this looks great, thanks.”  Kurt smiled at the waitress as she walked off.  He wondered if Blaine chose this place because they had table service, eliminating the need for Blaine to walk back to the table while carrying his coffee.  Stop it, he thought, maybe he just likes the place.  Don't think about his damn leg.

“Hope it's okay that I got something for you?  I asked them to just bring it over when you got here, so it wouldn't get cold.”

“Sure.”  Kurt took a sip from the wide mug.  “It's good.  What is it?”

“Caramel latte, with skim milk and cinnamon.  I didn't know what you were drinking these days, but I like them.”

“Is yours the same?”

“Yup.  Except mine's decaf.”  Blaine looked down as he said this, making Kurt wonder if there was a story behind it.  No need to go there yet.

“It's not as if you aren't energetic enough without the caffeine,” he commented.  He hoped jokes about Blaine's endless energy were safe, even though he hadn't seen Blaine particularly animated in years – at least not until yesterday.

“Exactly,” Blaine agreed, his momentary concern apparently abated.

“So,” Kurt began, not sure how to get their conversation rolling.  “How've you been?”  That should be open ended enough, right?

“I don't suppose I could just say ‘good' and then turn it back to you?” Blaine asked.  “I'm just kidding.  I'll go first, as long as you catch me up after.  Sound good?”

Kurt laughed.  “Well, since that's sort of the definition of a conversation, I guess I have to agree.”

“Okay.”  Blaine took a few deep breaths, looking as if he was steeling himself for an ordeal. 

Before Blaine could continue, Kurt got up and slid over into the chair just to Blaine's right, and waved vaguely at the window.  “Sun was in my eyes.”

Blaine smiled, not buying the excuse.  “Learn that from Puck?”

“I'm not hitting on you, I'm trying to be comforting!”  Kurt pretended to be offended.  “And I resent the implication that I would model Puck's behavior in any manner.”

“Good, because I think his next move would be to yawn, put his arm around my shoulder, and try to feel me up.”  Blaine looked down at his hands where they clutched his coffee cup, and then back at Kurt.  “Is it obvious how nervous I am?  Because I kind of feel like I'm going to vibrate right out of my chair.”

Kurt smiled.  “Happy nervous?”

“Definitely.”  Blaine rubbed his hands together.  “Okay, here goes.”  He turned a little in his chair, facing Kurt directly.  “I finally made it to NYU, just a year later than planned. They let me switch out of Tisch, into the regular academic track.  I'm majoring in ‘The Business of Music,' although I think I'm also going to double major in English lit, which is going to be a little confusing since my first major is kind of made up anyway.  I live a couple of blocks away - ”

“Wait,” Kurt interrupted.  “What do you mean you made it up?” he asked curiously.

“The things I wanted to study didn't really fit into any particular major, so I petitioned to create one of my own.  I got a professor to sponsor me, submitted a proposal, and got it approved.”  Blaine paused.  “I kind of had a lot of time on my hands last year, what with the not going to college on time thing.  I was able to do some work last spring to kind of get things set up.”

“That's amazing, Blaine,” Kurt said.  How perfectly Blaine, to shape the world to his needs, not just follow along.  “So what kind of courses are you taking?”

Blaine smiled.  “That's the neat part.  I got to pick whatever I thought would make sense, all aiming towards going into music production.  I mean, it was pretty obvious that I wasn't going to be able to go into performance.”

“You don't know that,” Kurt interrupted.

Blaine gave him an odd look, then shrugged and continued.  “Anyway, I thought this would let me still incorporate music into a career.  I'll be taking music courses, business courses, marketing and communication, that kind of thing.”

“But you'd rather be studying English?”  Kurt found himself envying Blaine's choices.  Not that he wanted to take more English classes, per se, but just the fact that Blaine had so many options.

“I don't know, I'm not sure yet.  But I've always liked writing and analyzing literature and the freshman English course I had to take this year was my favorite out of everything, except for possibly music composition. And I think I'd be good at teaching.”

“High school?”

“College, actually.”  Blaine shrugged.  “It's not easy to get that far, I know, but it's just something I've been thinking about.”

“I think you'd make an excellent professor,” Kurt observed.  “You'd look great in one of those tweed jackets with the patches on the sleeves.”

“So my qualifications include looking good in the clothes?”

 “Obviously.  Looking the part is half the battle.”  Kurt laughed.  “No, seriously, I do think you'd make a great teacher.”  Kurt meant it.  Blaine was whip smart, and he cared about people.  Seemed like a good combination for a college professor.  Certainly Kurt had been at the mercy of stupid teachers far too often to count.

“Thanks.”

The pause went on a just a little too long, and Kurt saw Blaine's eyes flicker to where his cane lay on the ground under the table.  “Do you, um, do you need something?”

“What?”  Blaine inquired.

“Sorry, I saw you look at your cane, and I thought….”

“No, I'm good.  I'm just trying to figure out how to tell you the rest of it.”

“The part about how you became upright?” Kurt said gently.  Blaine nodded, avoiding Kurt's eyes.  “You don't have to, you know.”  When Blaine didn't answer, Kurt continued.  “Why don't I take over for a while?”

“Okay,” Blaine nodded.  “I can't wait to hear about all your exciting adventures.  I know you've been doing well.”

“Not really,” Kurt said honestly, earning a surprised look from Blaine. 

“No?  A part in The Book of Mormon at age 20 sounds pretty successful to me,” Blaine said.  “You lit up the stage in that show, Kurt.  And you've given so many amazing performances in addition – the NYADA winter showcases, that Sondheim revival, the Fosse show.”  Blaine's excitement at Kurt's accomplishments was genuine, and Kurt couldn't believe how happy it made him feel.

“Thank you.”  It was true, career-wise things were good, but that's not what Kurt had meant.  “Wait, how do you even know about all those shows?” 

Blaine smiled shyly.  “I might just be a fan of a certain You Tube channel.”

Kurt felt his ears heat up as he blushed.  “Okay, I wasn't expecting that,” he confessed, a little embarrassed to think that Blaine had seen all of those performances.  All those moments when he had been diligently trying as hard as he could to push Blaine out of his mind, until a part or a song called for pretty much any emotion (Love?  Heartbreak? Loss?) and of course, thoughts of Blaine would pour back in. “I don't even know what's on there.  Rachel made the You Tube channel for me when she set up her own, back when we first moved here.  I think she just adds whatever she thinks people will want to see.  Assuming it doesn't outshine her own roles, of course.”

“Of course,” Blaine laughed.  “Well, you might want to send her a fruit basket or something, because she's been doing a great job tooting your horn.  How is Rachel anyway?”

Kurt bit his lip.  “Um, fine, I guess?”

“You're not sure?”

“I actually haven't talked to her in a while,” he admitted.  “Not since she moved to L.A.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't realize,” Blaine apologized, looking confused.

“No, it's not a big deal.”  Well, not quite as big a deal as breaking off your engagement with the love of your life, he thought sadly.  But still sort of a pretty big deal.

“No?”  Blaine looked curiously at Kurt.  “Maybe a story for another time?” 

“Yeah, let's add it to the list for now,” Kurt suggested, then saw the pleased look Blaine was giving him.  “What?”

“That means there has to be another time.”  Blaine said cheerfully.  “You can't back out of it now.”

“There will definitely be another time,” Kurt said, grinning back.  “You're not getting away from me so easily.”

Blaine beamed.  “Good.”  Blaine let go of the napkin he had been worrying between his fingers and held his hand out to Kurt. “I believe you were going to tell me about how you are taking New York by storm?”

Kurt took his hand, winding their fingers together.  It seemed like no time at all had passed since he had held this hand before.  Kurt felt Blaine rub his thumb back and forth along the back of his hand as he tried to gather his thoughts, wondering how to correct Blaine's misimpression about his life.  He seemed to think everything was going swimmingly, and that just wasn't the case. 

Blaine looked quizzically at Kurt as the silence dragged on.  “Kurt?  What's wrong?”

Kurt took a deep breath and looked up at Blaine, his wide caramel eyes filled with concern.  Honesty had been working pretty well so far, no need to stray from the path now, he thought.  “I'm not happy,” Kurt said softly.  “I'm getting good parts, my professors say I'm doing well, and I'm on track to graduate in a year with honors.  But I'm not happy.”  He felt his eyes fill with tears, and looked away, wishing he could somehow prevent Blaine from seeing that despite apparently having everything, he still hadn't gotten it together.

“Kurt,” Blaine breathed out, and then slowly, as if Blaine was afraid that Kurt would pull away, Blaine wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a hug, Blaine's head pressed against Kurt's cheek.  Kurt felt himself relax into it immediately, as if his body instantly recognized this boy for the safe haven he had always been.  He wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck, feeling strong hands rub his back as Blaine soothed him.  “It's okay, it's okay.  It's hard, I know.  It's okay.”

After a few minutes Kurt pulled away, rubbing at his eyes with a corner of his used napkin until Blaine handed him a soft handkerchief.  “Thank you.”

“No problem.  And don't worry, it's clean.”

Kurt gave Blaine a look.  “Well I should hope so.  But that's not what I meant.”

“Oh?”

“Thank you for not telling me that I should be happy.  That I'm exactly where I wanted to be, that other people envy what I have, that I'm going to have a great career, and so I should be happy.”

Blaine looked thoughtfully at Kurt.  “I don't think there's much ‘should' to happiness,” he began.  “And no one can tell you how to feel.  Your feelings are yours, they are what they are.”  Blaine paused, choosing his words carefully.  “But I do think that if you aren't happy, you owe it to yourself to try to figure out why, and do something about it, if you can.”

Kurt nodded.  “I think I've been coming to the same conclusion.  But it's good to hear it out loud.  It makes it seem like it's so obvious.”

“I'm not sure you always realize it, being unhappy.  At least you've acknowledged it.  I didn't see how far down I had gotten until one day when my therapist had me make a list of things that made me happy and things that made me unhappy.  It scared the shit out of me.”

“I'm guessing the list wasn't very balanced?”

“Not even close.”

Kurt reached for Blaine's hand this time.  “I'm sorry.”

Blaine shrugged.  “Not your fault.”

No?  Kurt thought.  Maybe not entirely, but…  He shelved that one, too.  Maybe they needed to start writing these down.  “Would you believe me if I told you my therapist just suggested that I make a list like that?”

“Once I get over the fact that you're seeing a therapist, sure,” Blaine said.  “Can we put that one on the discussion schedule for next time too?”

“Hey, I didn't say a word when you said you saw a therapist,” Kurt protested.  “I seem to remember you outright refusing any such thing once upon a time.”  After the accident, the suggestion that the two of them see a counselor, separately or together, had been met with scorn by them both.  But here they were, joking about it as if it were the easiest thing in the world to admit you needed help.

“You can't hold that against me,” Blaine protested.  “I would have said no to a pony back then.”

“Sweetie, I didn't know you ever wanted a pony,” Kurt cooed, then banged his forehead down on the table as he realized what he said.  “Blaine, I didn't mean to-“

“Relax, sweetie,” Blaine teased.  “Old habits, and so on.  I wonder what our brains look like right now.  Scientists must have a field day with this kind of thing.”

“Blaine, what on earth are you talking about?”  Kurt looked up, perplexed.

“I don't know, there has to be all kinds of information stored in there that we used to call on all the time when we were together, things we said to each other, the way we touched each other,” Blaine tilted his head towards their hands, still entwined together between them on the table.  “Synapses that haven't been firing for years, and now we're waking them back up.”

“You are totally making that up.”  Kurt said firmly.  “My synapses never went to sleep.”  I never stopped thinking about you, you fool, he thought.

“Oh?  Maybe you just transferred the thoughts to Bruce?”

“Whoa there, that is definitely not a topic for today!”  Kurt choked out, his mind going to places it was certainly not supposed to be going right now.  “I don't even know what you're trying to say anymore.”  He could feel his face blushing as Blaine grinned.

“I'm saying you can call me sweetie if you want to,” Blaine said, looking shyly at him through his long lashes.

“Oh.  Okay.”  Kurt felt as if he was going to burst with love for this man.  He wasn't sure he could take much more of this.  Surely a person had a quota for how much emotion they were allowed to feel in one day, and he was pretty sure he had filled his a dozen times over this afternoon. 

“And Kurt?”

“Yeah?” 

“I'd like to help you with your happiness list, if you'll let me.”

“Sweetie, you already have.”