Blaine flung his basket of garden vegetables and firewood down on the kitchen floor, perhaps a little too forcefully. He clicked his tongue as he went to retrieve the potatoes that had rolled off the top and under the wood oven, placing them back carefully on top of the others. His mind was preoccupied with what had happened back in the garden. He’d never been shy, per se, but if there was ever a person who could get themselves into an embarrassingly awkward situation it was Blaine Anderson. He thought back bitterly on the time he had tried to serenade an older man at the store where he worked, only to embarrass himself and get the gorgeous mop head fired. At least this wasn’t as bad; all he did was touch his guest a little too familiarly and scared him off, possibly making himself seem like a creep in the process. He smiled wryly to himself.

It took a few tries to get the fire going adequately, and he had some time before the oven and stovetop would be hot enough for cooking. He peeled the vegetables and set them aside in a bowl of water ready for when he needed them. He looked around for something else to do to take his mind off things while he waited. He wondered if he should go and apologize to Kurt. But for what, he thought? Apologizing for putting his arms around him would be too much like admitting that was his goal. He was still contemplating this when he found himself in front of Kurt’s door. He raised his hand to knock, paused, then turned right around and went back to the kitchen where he could stare at the flames until his mind was blissfully numb. He then realized the time, and hurried upstairs to light the lamps before it got dark.

Kurt looked up from his sketchbook to see that the light outside had almost faded completely. He kicked himself mentally for missing his first sunset on the island, but was doubly determined to not miss any other opportunities. He put down his book and freshened up his face a bit before stepping out into the hall. His stomach gave a low growl as he walked towards the kitchen and dining area. There he saw Blaine, ladling what looked like some kind of stew into two bowls. The table was already set for the two of them, placemats sitting at either end of the large oak table. That won’t do, Kurt thought to himself. Sure Blaine had made him feel a bit awkward but he seemed like a nice enough guy and he did want to have some kind of conversation at the dinner table. He moved one of the placemats with its corresponding plates and cutlery to the middle of the table where it would be easier to speak to Blaine and promptly sat down.

Blaine jumped at the sound of the chair scraping along the wooden floorboards and spun around. Kurt grinned at him. “I hope you made a lot of food, I’m starving.” Blaine tried not to react too enthusiastically over the fact that Kurt Hummel was still speaking to him after what had happened down at the woodpile. He cocked an eyebrow warily before putting a plate down in front of his guest. Kurt looked down at the modest meal, immediately noting what was missing from the plate.

“Are you a vegetarian?” Kurt asked, no judgement in his voice. Blaine smiled a little sheepishly at the question.

“No, but it’s hard to get to a butcher shop or supermarket from all the way out here. The last lighthouse keeper didn’t have any issues with chopping the necks of those half wild chickens and ducks outside, but I just can’t bring myself to do it…” Kurt nodded along as Blaine explained. He didn’t think he would be up to the task either. “The old guy even showed me how to do it…where to cut the neck and pierce the skin so the gut comes away cleanly…and how you can play with its vocal cords…” Blaine stopped there, realizing Kurt was looking at the food on his plate uneasily and that it might not be the best topic for conversation at the dinner table. “Anyway…I catch fish whenever I can and have a few traps laid for crab and lobster. I didn’t have time for that today but maybe tomorrow…” He looked up at Kurt. “If you wanted I could take you out fishing and maybe if we’re lucky we might have some crab as well?”

Kurt looked genuinely keen. “That would be great. My dad took me fishing a couple of times as a kid, I always managed to catch the bigger fish.”

Blaine laughed. “Sure, sure. I bet you land all the big ones. I’ll tell you what; if you catch anything bigger than me tomorrow I’ll…” Blaine paused. What did he have that was a worthwhile bet with a successful designer? He didn’t even have five dollars in his pocket.

Kurt put his cutlery down on his half-finished plate and put up a suggestion of his own. “If I catch a bigger fish you are going to let me cook. No offense, but there is a lot more you can do with vegetables than just frying and mashing. A little flavour wouldn’t go amiss either.” Blaine ducked his head. Of course his cooking wouldn’t be up to the standard of someone who spent their days in New York. Why hadn’t he…

He looked up again to see Kurt smiling at him. “I’ve got to admit though, you do make a wicked cheesy mash.” Blaine tried hard not to read too much into it as Kurt winked.

Blaine stood in the kitchen washing the dishes. Kurt offered to help but Blaine refused, citing that he was a paying guest after all and it’s not like he would go out the back of a restaurant back home and wash the plate he just ate off. Kurt frowned but let it go. He stood and watched instead, making Blaine feel both pleased at having the company and embarrassed at the same time.

“So…what do you do in the evenings to entertain yourself?” Kurt found himself asking. He was more of a night owl and with no bars, clubs or shops open he was unsure of what he was to do with himself in the evenings besides work.

Blaine hummed for a moment before responding. “I read a lot, there is a decent enough library upstairs. I’ll show you later. And I play the piano, but only if it won’t bother you?” He raised an eyebrow, and Kurt shook his head.

“I don’t mind, so long as you’re not god-awful at it.”

Blaine grinned. “I was hoping to play a little after this. You can hear for yourself if you like.”

Kurt went back to his room and lay with his stomach down on the bed. It was comfortable enough and he started sketching out some figures to draw designs onto, women this time. He hadn’t any solid ideas yet but he was sure they would come. He made a mental note not to go with anything with a fishtail, no matter how tempting it might be after he goes fishing with Blaine the next day. He decided he liked the man’s company well enough, despite the awkward moments they had during the day. Blaine had lived alone for a while after all, he reasoned. He was probably lucky to have someone as easy going as Kurt as his first guest.

Kurt started drawing heads and hair on his figures, something he only did if he was horribly bored or wanted inspiration from the people rather than finding people to suit the cloth. The particular one he was doodling at that moment was a redhead with fiery, curly locks that went everywhere. He looked down at his handiwork, realizing the chances of finding a model with that hair was slim to none, even if he did design something that would suit – which he doubted. He was about to throw away the entire page when the sound of music echoed out in the hallway. He poked his head out, barely making out the song. It was ‘Drops of Jupiter’ by Train, and by the sounds of it Blaine was singing along with his own original arrangement. Curious, Kurt wandered up the nearest stairs towards the sound.

He poked his head into a room that must have been the library Blaine had talked of. It was certainly filled with books, more than enough to keep someone reading for months if they chose to. There in the centre was an old yet serviceable grand piano, with Blaine at the keys. He had his eyes closed, pouring his heart into the music. Kurt’s first thought was that his voice was amazing. His second that so was his playing. He found it hard to believe that such talent lay hidden on an island off the coast of Washington, instead of playing concerts in the city. He slid quietly into the corner of the room and sank down on a cushy arm chair, enraptured with the music.

Blaine finished his song. He would usually go on to play a medley of Katy Perry or P!nk hits, but he was feeling somewhat more emotional that day. His fingers worked of their own accord and he started to sing…

The power lines went out, and I am all alone… But I don’t even care at all not answering my phone.

He sang the next two lines but then stopped, as another voice began to echo through the room.

Lost sight… Couldn’t see. He joined back in for the next line. When it was you and me.

He watched as Kurt stood from the chair he hadn’t even noticed him sitting in, and walked up to the piano. They sang the song in an almost perfect duet, taking cues from one another. Kurt had a surprisingly pleasing voice and hit the high notes with ease. Blaine found himself wondering just how far that range might go, itching to test it.

But I think I’ll be all right… They finished the song, smiling at one another. Kurt found himself caught in the dark haired man’s golden eyes. They were even more striking than the last time, with long lashes that framed them perfectly. He only stopped staring when Blaine coughed a little, breaking eye contact. Kurt found his voice once more.

“That was wonderful. You’re very talented. Have you ever thought about performing professionally?”

Blaine inclined his head at the praise but didn’t answer the question. “Thank you. You have quite the voice yourself. I would duet with you any day.”

Kurt gave a short, bitter laugh. “I sing like a girl and am never allowed to forget it.” A dark look crossed his eyes. “I applied for a musical theatre school once, and didn’t get in. I loved singing and performing but my dreams were dashed when I realized that despite my ability, there would never be a role I could play on Broadway. Maybe Miss Saigon…” He added, self depreciatively. Blaine laughed awkwardly at the joke. “I then found my calling in fashion, but I do miss performing.”

“I know the feeling.” Blaine responded. Kurt started to ask him why but Blaine merely shook his head, and cut him off by changing the subject.

“I think we need a less depressing song.” He started to play a deconstructed version of Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream. He moved over on the seat so Kurt would have room to sit next to him. Kurt hesitated for a moment, before taking the proffered spot. He watched the deft fingers fly across the keyboard, his hip barely touching to Blaine’s on the chair, yet very noticeable all the same. He started to sing along when Blaine started with another top 40 artist to distract himself, succeeding somewhat despite it not being his usual choice of song to sing. The evening continued in this fashion, with the odd pause for Blaine to ask Kurt for his favourite songs and playing the ones he knew. It was soon 9 o’clock and Blaine apologized for needing to go and tend to the lamps.

Kurt was more tired than he thought he might be, and realized that the time difference was probably a factor as well as the travel to a new place. He arrived back in his room and was asleep the moment his head hit his pillow.

He woke up some hours later with his mind filled with swirling shapes of brown and green, speckled with gold. It wasn’t hard to trace where that colour palette had come from. Blaine Anderson’s eyes had pervaded his dreams, and he very much needed to put pen to paper. He turned on his lights and put down the imaged he held in his mind. The long lashes translating to thick black lines framing a stunning brown to green fabric he imagined to be soft to the touch. It was a perfect melding of construction and soft edges and he could envision the way it would fit to the model’s form as it came down the runway. It was such a perfect piece of work he almost felt the urge to pinch himself. The fact that he had travelled hundreds of miles to find inspiration in another man’s eyes was not completely lost on him.

He looked outside his window and saw the long snake of light that trailed out across the water, letting distant ships know of the lighthouse’s presence. Not feeling tired any longer and finished with his sketch, he decided to go and see what the lamps looked like when lit. He trod carefully on the staircase this time, avoiding the broken step, and peeked in through the door. Blaine was curled up on a large comfortable looking bean bag, a book threatening to topple from his fingers. He was asleep. Kurt took a look at the cover and recognized it to be one of the Harry potter series…the fourth perhaps, he thought. Up close he could see just how long those eyelashes were, and his hands itched at the chance to pluck those bushy eyebrows that hid them. He then decided it wouldn’t be aesthetically pleasing overall and that the triangular eyebrows should stay before shaking his head and mentally scolding himself for his errant thoughts. There was no denying Blaine was growing on him, and he had found the man attractive to begin with.

He looked over at the lamps, still burning brightly as the sky was just beginning to lighten over the horizon. Kurt sat down in the same spot he had during the day and sat meditatively waiting for the sunrise. Blaine’s quiet breathing behind him adding to the rhythm…