As the end of the school year drew nearer, Blaine often found himself stressing out all day about homework, upcoming tests, and Warblers rehearsals. That last thing didn't make much sense, seeing as they had been beaten at Regionals, but Wes seemed to think that next year's council would be incapable of handling, well, anything, so he was preparing everything so that nothing could possibly go wrong.

Today, however, Blaine had decided to take the afternoon (and possibly the evening) off. He'd been working hard lately, after all, and he deserved a break. And there was no better way to spend a couple of free hours than at the Lima Bean – a coffee shop that was actually rather far from Dalton, which was why Blaine didn't go there very often. The coffee they had was his favourite, though, so whenever he could, he went there.

After ordering, he walked back outside, towards the parking lot, to sit on a bench there. Just as he took a sip from his iced coffee, though, he collided with something solid. No, scratch that – with someone. He didn't have time to contemplate this, however, as he hit the ground and the cold liquid poured down his shirt. He thanked whatever higher being was up there that he had chosen today to get himself an iced coffee, instead of his usual medium drip.

"Oh no, oh god – I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

Opening his eyes, Blaine saw a boy of about his age leaning over him with a concerned (and guilty) look on his face.

He smiled vaguely and replied, "I'm fine. Just – try to pay attention next time, okay?"

The boy nodded frantically before saying, "Technically, so should you, but that's hardly important right now seeing as you got coffee all over your shirt."

Sitting up, Blaine inspected the damage – it didn't look pretty, but maybe he could save his shirt. Maybe.

"Come on," the boy said. "We'll go the bathroom, see if we can get that out."

Blaine sent the boy an incredulous look. "We?"

The boy's eyes widened. "I didn't mean – sorry. It's just… I'm sort of an expert at getting stains out of clothes, and it's partly my fault, so I could help, but… it's fine. I get it." He shrugged, and his expression hardened slightly. "You're afraid to catch the gay. Not that that's possible, but whatever suits you."

"Oh, no, I was just surprised," Blaine hastily said. "If you're truly that good with stains and if the offer still stands – I guess I could use some help." As he finally stood up, he added, "I know I can't catch the gay, by the way. Even if it were possible, it wouldn't matter because I'm already gay."

"Right," the boy muttered, looking surprised but seeming intent on not letting it show too much. "Well, let's – let's go in, then."

They walked back into the coffee shop, and into the bathroom, in silence. Once in there, the other boy wasted no time, grabbing some paper towels from the dispenser and something that looked like soap from his bag.

Blaine just stood there and looked on in wonder as the boy, having ushered him to the sink, set to work like a professional. He meticulously applied the soap on the stain and washed it out after a while, looking closely if he hadn't missed a spot and all the coffee really was coming out.

"Have you done this before?" Blaine blurted out before he could stop himself.

The boy made a non-committal noise. "Sort of," he eventually replied. "Though it's not usually coffee I have to wash out…"

Blaine wanted to asked what he meant by that, but there had been something in the boy's tone that made him think he wasn't very eager to share. "You can just leave it like that, you know. I'll just throw it in a washing machine as soon as I've got the chance."

The boy stood back and raised an eyebrow at him. "So you're saying that you're going to walk around with a giant wet spot on your clothes?"

Blaine squirmed slightly under his gaze. "That wasn't exactly what I meant. Could you hand me some of those paper towels?"

As he turned around, the boy gasped. Before Blaine could ask him what was wrong, the boy was already scrutinising himself in the mirror from every possible angle.

"Are you alright?" Blaine had no idea what was wrong, but he didn't doubt that there must be something.

"There's coffee on my bag," the boy replied almost instantly, snatching one of the paper towels from the stack before handing the rest to Blaine. While Blaine tried to dry his shirt as well as he could, he listened to the boy's slightly panicked mutters. Blaine himself hadn't noticed anything wrong with the bag, but he wasn't the most perceptive person around. He thought he heard something about it being a designer bag, and now he was officially lost. Yes, Blaine liked reading Vogue and other fashion magazines, but other than that, he wasn't really up-to-date with the latest fashion. He attended a private school where everyone wore the same things, and even when they ventured out of school, like he was doing now, they never dressed very fashionably, he'd noticed during the past few years.

This boy seemed different. It was kind of endearing, the way he was freaking out over a bag, but Blaine decided not to mention it. It probably wouldn't sit well with the other boy.

"Is it okay?" he asked when he was done, and the boy looked up.

Biting his lip, he seemed to consider the question. "It will be," he answered. "At least it won't stain now, but I still need to look at it when I get home."

Blaine nodded. "Let's get out of here, then."

Again, the boy seemed to hesitate. Suddenly, he said, "I'm Kurt – by the way. Just in case you were… wondering."

Right. Blaine mentally reprimanded himself. Where were his manners? "I'm Blaine," he introduced himself in return.

Kurt nodded slowly. "Alright. You're right, we should get out of this bathroom."

Once they were back in the shop, Blaine said, "Well, Kurt, it was nice meeting you – despite the circumstances, that is – but I really need – "

Kurt interrupted him, though. "Let me at least buy you another drink," he said stubbornly. "I owe you that much."

Blaine smiled slightly. He wasn't about to turn down this almost invitation to have coffee with Kurt – on the contrary, he was glad he got the chance. Yes, he'd been planning on returning to Dalton, now that his shirt was stained, but that could wait a little longer, couldn't it?

"Sure," he therefore said, "if it makes you feel better, the least I can do is allow you to buy me a new coffee."

As they approached the cash register, the line wasn't too long, fortunately. In front of them were a boy and a girl their age, holding hands. Blaine immediately thought of how unfair it was that a boy and a girl could hold hands here, while society (in Ohio, at least) would always frown down on him if he would ever do the same thing with a boy. Like Kurt, for example.

Yeah, now was not the time for thoughts like that.

Especially since the boy in question was frowning at the two in front of them as well, seeming horribly confused about something – which, in turn, confused Blaine.

"Mercedes? Sam?" Kurt suddenly asked, and the boy and the girl jumped five feet in the air before turning around hesitantly.

"Kurt!" the boy exclaimed nervously. "Hey! That's a… surprise!"

"What are you doing here?" the girl asked him. Glancing at Blaine, she added, "And who's this?"

Kurt gave her a disbelieving look, but responded anyway. "I came here for a coffee, surprisingly. And this is Blaine – we ran into each other in the parking lot. Literally." He gestured at Blaine's outfit, and the girl winced in sympathy.

"So did we, actually," she hurriedly said, plastering a smile on her face that even Blaine, who'd just met her, could see was fake. "It was quite a coincidence."

"Right." Obviously, Kurt didn't fall for it either. Blaine frowned slightly. He could swear that he'd seen these people around before; he'd already suspected that he had when seeing Kurt, but this girl and boy looked very familiar too. Before he could comment on it, though, it was Kurt's friends' turn. Maybe Blaine would ask Kurt about it later.

As soon as the two in front of them had gotten their coffees, they all but fled from the coffee shop. "No offense, but that didn't sound very believable," Blaine commented once they were out of earshot.

Kurt shook his head. "Something's been going on between them ever since junior prom," he said, before stepping towards the register and ordering his coffee. He gestured for Blaine to order something as well (this time, he did go for his usual medium drip; old habits die hard, after all) while he took out his wallet.

Blaine studied Kurt pensively while their coffees were being prepared. He hoped he wasn't coming off like some kind of creep, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd seen Kurt, and his two friends, before.

"Is there something on my face?" Kurt asked cautiously, bringing a hand up to check his face.

"No, it's – it's nothing," Blaine replied. "You just look… familiar, somehow."

Instantly, Kurt stood straighter, raising an eyebrow curiously. "Oh?"

Blaine shrugged. "I just can't think of where I've seen you before."

Kurt nodded. "Okay." A few seconds later, he added, "You know, you look kind of familiar too."

Blaine snorted. Oh. Wow. That must be a highly unattractive sound. "You're just saying that."

"That's not true!" Kurt protested, smiling slightly. "I swear, I know I've seen you before, but – "

He was cut off as their orders were finished. As Blaine reached for his cup, it turned out that Kurt had tried to grab both cups. Luckily, no coffee was spilled this time around, but they were holding the same cup now.

Well. This was potentially awkward. "Sorry," Kurt muttered hastily, letting go of the cup (and, consequently, of parts of Blaine's hand as well).

"That's fine," Blaine hurried to say, swiftly moving his other hand so he was holding the cup with two hands now.

He glanced up to see Kurt looking at him intently, and for some reason, that's when it hit him. He knew where he'd seen this boy before.

"You were on TV!" he exclaimed, looking around to make sure that none of the other people in the shop were disturbed by him now.

"What?" Kurt seemed confused, and Blaine quickly pulled him towards an empty table.

"You were on TV!" he repeated. "You were at Nationals in New York! My friends made me watch that last weekend."

"Really?" Kurt sounded amazed. "They broadcast that on television?"

Blaine nodded eagerly. "Yes, apparently. Your two lead singers kissed on stage."

Kurt groaned. "Don't remind me. None of us knew what was happening, we were only told afterwards. We all wondered why no one was clapping, but that mystery was solved soon enough."

"That sucks," Blaine said. "My friends were pretty pissed about that, actually. They agreed that if you were going to screw up your chances at Nationals like that, we should've gone on to New York."

"You should've – " Kurt started, and then realisation seemed to dawn on him. To be honest, Blaine didn't know why he did recognise Kurt from the few seconds he'd been at centre stage on TV, but not from the two competitions that had come before that. "You're in the Warblers. I knew I remembered you!"

Blaine grinned. "Yes, I am, and we're going to do absolutely everything in our power to make sure we win next year's Sectionals, or Regionals, whenever we're up against you. There's no way we're letting you blow another chance like that."

Kurt didn't seem impressed, much rather amused. "Trust me, we won't. Finn and Rachel have been appropriately dealt with – one of the girls went crazy when we got back to the hotel, all but attacking them, and the rest of us pretty much gave them the cold shoulder for the remainder of the trip. And we still came in twelfth. After what happened, I feared we might be disqualified or become fiftieth or something."

"Well, your songs and overall performance was fairly good," Blaine admitted.

"Yeah, that's the other reason why it surprised me we were actually so close to the top ten," Kurt said. "We… wrote those songs the day before the competition, and only started rehearsing after that."

Blaine couldn't help but stare. It was like the other Glee club was mocking the Warblers and everything they did. "You do realise that I'm telling this to the council as soon as I get back at Dalton, right?" he asked. "This'll make everyone want to beat you even more next year."

Kurt cocked his head to the side. "Council?"

Blaine nodded. "The Warblers don't have a choir director. Instead, we have a council, consisting of three seniors who lead the meetings and make the song selections and such."

Kurt looked thoughtful. "We should have one of those, too. I mean, nothing against Mr Schuester, but he always gives every song to the same people. At least if some of us decided all those things, other people might have a shot at singing something as well. No one in their right mind would vote Rachel into that hypothetical council anyway."

"You don't even seem that upset about losing," Blaine observed, finding it slightly odd; when the Warblers had lost at Regionals, he'd blamed himself for the loss for days, and it had taken a lot for his friends to make him accept that it had been a team effort, and New Directions had simply been better.

"It was still amazing," Kurt replied, smiling. "It was New York, Blaine. New York."

"I'd gathered that much," Blaine deadpanned. "It was only my dream to go there, no biggie."

Kurt grinned widely now. "Really? You mean that? It was my dream as well and now I know for sure that I want to go there after I graduate. Only one year left in this sad excuse for a town and then I'm off."

Blaine nodded in agreement. "Exactly what I was thinking too. I'm simply not cut out for the Ohio life."

He swore that Kurt was almost bouncing in his seat from the excitement. "Me neither. Hey, you know what? Perhaps you could come to my house some time so I could show you some pictures my friends and I made there! I've got heaps of stories to tell, and all my friends were there so they won't listen, and my parents mean well, but they don't quite share the excitement I feel every time I look at those photos."

"That sounds great!" Blaine replied before he could even consider what he was agreeing to – he was being invited to the house of a boy he'd met only today, to talk about college and New York and dreams that were far bigger than Ohio.

After making plans for the next weekend (when both boys were done with their exams), they continued talking about… well, everything they could think of. Still, as they each went their own way after finishing their drinks, Blaine was convinced that they'd have more than enough to talk about when they would meet up again.