"How did you end up with photography, then?" Blaine's face showed his confusion.

They were sitting in a quiet, cozy coffee shop, one with no dress code but with table service and were waiting for someone to come get their orders. Kurt had been telling Blaine about his original college plans, his musical theater ambitions and how he landed a job at Vogue kind of by accident, thanks to a makeover he organized for his best friend Rachel.

"It's not like it's my full-time job," Kurt explained, "I just jump in when there are emergencies. It's only a coincidence that all your shoots ended up that way."

"Yeah, coincidence…" Blaine muttered quietly then cleared his throat to continue at a normal volume of his voice, "But still, how did they even think of calling on you?"

"I've done the photos for Rachel's show and since that was how Isabelle found me," a smile played on Kurt's lips, showing that he was still amazed at that, "she knew I had some practice."

"I'm glad it was my photo shoot."

"It's a little funny, actually," Kurt mused, "I've only done a few others, but with yours, they seem to be eager to call me back."

"About that…" Blaine's face turned a shade of red that Kurt would've found adorable if his curiosity wasn't nagging his brain.

"Am I going to find out there wasn't really a need for me freezing my ass off for the afternoon?" he spoke up with as much nonchalance as he could manage.

The expression in Blaine's face went from embarrassed and smiling to downright petrified at Kurt's words and the blush spread further.

"There wasn't, was there?" Kurt whispered.

"Well…"

Kurt reached across the table and tentatively brushed his fingers over Blaine's hand that was clutched in a fist. Blaine looked up with a slightly apologetic expression but remained silent.

"What can I get you, gentlemen?" they both startled at the waiter's voice.

Kurt shook his head to clear his thoughts and placed his order, then listened as Blaine did the same with a trembling voice. Once the waiter was out of earshot, they turned back to each other, the contact between their hands unbroken.

"I…" Blaine gulped, "well… the shoot was legitimate."

"OK?" Kurt didn't say more because he sensed there was more to it.

"But… it wasn't supposed to be done in Vogue," the words came out as a whisper, "they're mostly runway outfits."

"So someone asked for a photo spread?"

"Something like that, yes," Blaine's voice was barely audible, "there's no need to be showing these in a magazine as they're not a separate line."

"They're your red carpet outfits, aren't they?" Kurt was starting to put the pieces of the puzzle together, "not actually suits that will make it to stores or anything?"

"No, they aren't," Blaine shook his head, "or they weren't supposed to, but now you're doing the spread for Vogue, they just might."

"Why would…"

Kurt wanted to ask why the designer would want to release personal order outfits to the public, specially tailored for one person, even though the person was Blaine himself, even though they were inspired by the same person as everything else from the BDA collections. Under normal circumstances, Kurt knew, outfits designed for a particular person or event would never make it onto anything but red carpet report pages.

"I… can we look at the photos from today?" Blaine asked, completely catching Kurt off guard with the topic change.