The rain hadn't slowed and it didn't show any signs that it would soon. Kurt closed the store when it was time, sighing in a mix of contentment and frustration. He was still excited for his dream coming true, but the weather had made opening day much less of a success that he had hoped it would be.

That night, after he finished baking a few more things for the next day, he sat with Brownie on the couch, watching re-runs of Grey's Anatomy and eating a chicken salad, already in his pajamas and so tired he could've fallen asleep right there.

Even though he hadn't had the flow of customers he had been expecting, the ones he had gotten left him with the feeling he was doing things right. Especially that gorgeous stranger, Blaine. Something had told him the man had been looking for shelter from not only the rain that day. His hazel eyes had been really expressive and though Kurt hadn't asked if something was bothering him, he could see there was. He could see it in his gaze, in the smiles that didn't quite reach his eyes, in the way he seemed to get lost in himself. Kurt wondered what kind of man Blaine was. He had a sweet, gentle air, but he seemed so restrained, as if he had to control his every action and Kurt was certainly intrigued. He was also intrigued by the way he had felt so instantly charmed by him, but could anyone really blame him?

The sound of the phone distracted him from his thoughts of that mysterious yet adorable stranger. It was Carole, who had just gotten home from a long shift at work and wanted to know everything about Kurt's first day in the bakery. She sounded tired but enthusiastic with every detail he told her and by the time he hung up the phone fifteen minutes later, he was also so exhausted that Blaine was pushed to the back of his mind. He got up, quickly washed his dishes, turned the TV off and went straight to bed, Brownie following behind him, purring softly.

He got under the sheets with a sigh of relief, the warm weight of his kitty by his feet and fell asleep in a matter of seconds.

His last conscious thought was one single word that slipped through his lips like a breath: tomorrow.

At noon, Kurt's eyes started glancing toward the door every few seconds as he worked. The weather was much nicer than the day before and people seemed to be making up for such a lousy opening. There was a small queue in front of the counter and two of the four tables were occupied.

By twelve thirty, the sound of the door opening made him hold his breath until he studied the new customers coming in to make sure they didn't have hazel eyes and gelled dark hair.

At one o'clock, a lady came in to place an important order of cupcakes for a party in one of the surrounding buildings. They needed to be done for the next day and Kurt spent about twenty minutes writing down flavors and different request the woman had. After that, he kept himself easily distracted as he made sure he had enough ingredients for the order.

By two o'clock, Blaine's absence was quite obvious. He eyed the cheesecake in the display next to him quickly, but plastered a smile on his face to greet the next customer.

By four o'clock, Kurt told himself he was silly for letting something like this affect him in any way. He didn't even know Blaine. And even if the other man had come in like he had promised, it didn't mean anything. The guy was probably straight and had a girlfriend. He didn't need a crush on one of his customers. It was the worst idea ever.

By six o'clock, Kurt closed the store and threw the cheesecake in the garbage before going to the kitchen to bake two hundred cupcakes.

Blaine walked out of the building and looked at the closed bakery across the street. It was already dark outside and he had stayed extra late working on a case that his father was pressuring him with. He gripped his briefcase with more strength than necessary before turning around and walking to the parking lot to get his car.

He didn't know what was happening to him, but the way his eyes had kept drifting towards the window to stare at the little bakery all day couldn't mean anything good. He had resisted the impulse to cross the street and sit down at one of the little tables and let the delicious food comfort him. But, what for? Blaine knew himself very well. He knew that if he allowed himself to get close to Kurt, he'd fall in love with him. What was not to love? The man seemed pretty much perfect. But what wasn't perfect, despite all appearances, was Blaine's life. Falling in love wasn't part of his plans. Falling in love would never be in his plans.

It was better that way, he assured himself later that night, as he lay in bed alone, unable to fall asleep as loneliness seemed to close around him like a trap.

Autumn leaves started decorating Columbus' streets with their shades of ocher and Kurt kept a smile on his face as he swept them off the door of the bakery every morning. Business was going strong and he had started thinking about hiring someone else to help him, though he was a little reticent. This was all his. This was his home and his life, and this was what he had worked so hard for his entire life and although he felt a bit selfish, he didn't want to share it. He knew it was stupid of him, that having someone at the counter while he was at the back in the kitchen getting orders done and refilling the displayers would save him precious time and probably money, but… he still wanted to hold on to how special it felt to do this on his own for a little longer, even if he had to keep sacrificing his almost non-existent free time to keep Ellie's going. Kurt stayed up 'til late every night baking for the next day and woke up really early to be ready to receive customers. His body was starting to complain, but the happiness he felt with his success were more than enough to silence it.

He glanced at the clock quickly over his shoulder. He had a delivery to make in fifteen minutes, so he would need to close to store for a little bit. Luckily, it was in one of the buildings across the street, so it shouldn't take him longer than five minutes. He usually didn't offer delivery services, but the woman who had come to place the order was really demanding and seemed to doubt he could get the cake she ordered there on time and in the right place, and Kurt Hummel rarely let an opportunity to show people how wrong they were pass.

He went inside, picked up the box and turned the closed signed on the door before locking it and shoving the keys in his jacket's pocket as he checked the address on the paper taped to the lid of the box. Yes, it was the building right across the street, so he crossed quickly, avoiding the traffic.

The building was fancy and the lobby was too cold and too impersonal for his taste. He assumed there was some sort of huge company situated there. Two security guards were sitting at a desk, controlling the people coming in and going out. Kurt walked towards them to announce himself.

"Hi, I'm here to make a delivery at…" he checked the note again. "Anderson and Wallace?"

"Name?" Asked one of the security guards, evidently bored.

"Kurt Hummel, from Ellie's Bakery," Kurt answered. "I'm supposed to deliver this to Ms. Collins."

Without saying anything to him, the man picked up a phone and dialed a number. "Yes, this is security security, can you transfer me to Ms. Collins?" They waited as the call was transferred. "Ms. Collins, this is Bill from security. There's a man here with a delivery for you from Ellie's Bakery." They exchanged a few more words and then he hung up. "You can go up. Twelfth floor, ask for Ms. Collins once you're there." He handed Kurt a magnetic card so he could pass through to the elevators.

Kurt hummed along with the monotonous elevator song as he watched the digital numbers above the door slowly change. When it stopped at the twelfth floor, he got out and looked around. He immediately found a desk with a receptionist. who was speaking on the phone, so he patiently waited until she was done.

Kurt smiled at her. "Hi! I'm here with a delivery for Ms. Collins."

"You'll find her at the end of this hallway, she's Mr. Anderson's secretary," the woman directed Kurt to the left.

"Thanks!" Kurt turned and walked past numerous elegant offices. He had already guessed from the sign behind the receptionist that this was a law firm, so he wasn't exactly surprised. It all seemed pretty prestigious, too.

The door at the end of the hallway had a bronze plaque with the words Walter Anderson, Attorney at Law emblazoned on it. Kurt knocked softly and waited until he was told to come in.

There was a small office that obviously worked as a reception area for a bigger, more important office where the woman who had come to the bakery was sitting at a mahogany desk. She was in her thirties, her blonde hair too perfect, her make up almost professional, her clothes a bit too tight (and that coming from a man who loved skinny jeans, Kurt thought). She was the image of the kind of secretary who is there not only to get her job done, but to look pretty while doing it, too. He couldn't help but wonder if Mr. Anderson was the cliché of a boss who slept with his secretary …

"Hi, I'm here to deliver the cake you ordered," Kurt said with one of his most radiant smiles.

"You're late," Ms. Collins said as a greeting.

Kurt quirked an eyebrow. "No, I'm not. We agreed I should be here at ten. It's nine fifty five."

The woman rolled her eyes and extended her hand to take the box. Kurt handed it to her. She opened it and peeked inside. "Vanilla iced…?"

"… with peppermint buttercream and chocolate chips?" Kurt said, starting to get annoyed. "Yes, miss."

"Good," she started going through the contents of her drawer until she found a check book, where she had obviously already written one for Kurt, because she immediately extended it to him.

Before any of the two had time to say anything else, the door to the main office opened. Kurt turned around to find a man in his fifties (probably not younger than fifty four) that looked slightly familiar… and when the other man stepped out of the office he knew exactly why.

"That's the end of it, Blaine, and I won't discuss it further," the older man said coldly. Then, he sighed, a bit exaggeratedly. "You're such a disappointment. Do you realize the job I'm asking you to do is something the idiots that deliver my mail could do? I don't even know why I bother to try with you."

Blaine had kept his gaze down the entire time, but Kurt noticed how white his knuckles were from clenching his hands into tight fists. And then Mr. Anderson looked around and noticed they had an audience. He didn't seem particularly upset about it. It was obvious he didn't have a problem embarrassing his staff in front of others.

"Katherine, please come in, I need to dictate a few faxes," he said, holding the door open until Ms. Collins went through it. Then he closed it, not sparing a second glance at Blaine or Kurt.

Blaine, however, was apparently too absorbed to notice he wasn't alone, because he instantly reached for his skinny black tie to loosen the knot a bit and he let out a shaky, almost furious breath. And then, as he turned to leave the office, he found Kurt still standing there.

His hazel eyes grew impossibly wide and he parted his lips as if he wanted to say something.

"Hi," Kurt said softly, and, because he thought Blaine was having a hard time placing him, he added, "I'm Kurt, from the…"

"I know," Blaine's voice was a bit strained, as if talking required an effort for him at the moment. "Of course I know I…" He shut up and looked back down, swallowing. "What are you doing here?" He asked, quietly, as if trying to regain control of himself.

"Delivering a cake," Kurt answered, glancing at the box still on the desk.

"Oh, right, it's his birthday," Blaine let his eyes wander back to the woodgrained door before huffing in obvious annoyance and walking out to the hallway, Kurt following closely behind, as he had to go back to the store.

Kurt could see the tension in Blaine's back, on every muscle from his neck to his thighs, his hands still clenched in fists. He couldn't help himself. "Blaine…"

Blaine stopped and turned around to look at him, a slight note of surprise in his features, as if he didn't understand how he knew his name… or as if he didn't think Kurt would remember it.

"Are you okay?" Kurt muttered softly, lowering his voice when three secretaries walked by and stared at them pointedly.

Blaine's eyes were fixed on him with an air of incredulity deep in them. Kurt wasn't sure what he was doing wrong, but it seemed to really shock Blaine to hear him asking him that.

"I'm sorry, I'm overstepping. I'm gonna…" he tried to walk past him, but Blaine took a step aside to block his way.

"No, no, you're not…" Kurt noted his hands started to let go of the tight grip. "I just…"

"He probably isn't an easy boss, but you shouldn't take him so seriously, I'm sure you do your best," Kurt's smile was so warm that Blaine felt the ice his father's words had engendered him in melting a bit. "Don't let him bring you down."

"It's really complicated," Blaine mumbled, a bit flustered. He glanced at the door in front of which he was standing on and Kurt followed his gaze. There was another plaque there: Blaine Anderson, Attorney at Law.

Kurt actually gasped. "He's your father?"

Blaine bit his lip, visibly uncomfortable and looked everywhere but into Kurt's eyes. That was, at least, until he felt the soft pressure of a hand on his arm. Kurt's face was full of concern and his blue eyes were infinitely kind, and Blaine just couldn't understand why.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt whispered and there it was, that soothing, beautiful voice Blaine still thought about when he couldn't sleep at night. The hand around his arm squeezed gently.

There was a light cough and Kurt saw two men in expensive suits glaring at them, their cold, disapproving eyes fixed on Kurt's hand. He removed it immediately. Sometimes, when he had been able to hide in his own fantasy world for way too long, Kurt forgot about the homophobic assholes still wandering around. And it was more than obvious that was the reason for those two men to look at them like that. Kurt knew he was a bit flamboyant. He knew people looked at him and immediately labeled him as gay. He didn't care. It was who he was and they couldn't use it against him.

But it wasn't okay to drag Blaine into his own nightmares.

"I should probably go," Kurt said, avoiding Blaine's face until he knew the men were gone. "It was nice seeing you, Blaine."

He didn't give the other man a chance to say anything in return. He simply walked away, Blaine's hazel eyes glued to his retreating back, a beacon of incandescent light shining through the dreariness of gray suits, but too unreachable to shine a ray of hope onto his own life.

Blaine left the office as soon as he could that day. He felt suffocated, and he had been acting like a robot the whole day, pasting a smile on his lips every time someone patted him on the shoulder and told him if you're half the man your father is when you get to his age, you can consider yourself lucky. He wasn't so sure about that. Becoming his father was one of the things that terrified Blaine the most and the fact that he had followed his steps into the world of law didn't help to convince him otherwise. He casually loosened his tie, the knot too tight, not letting him breathe, closing around his throat like a threat.

It was almost six by the time Blaine stepped out of the building. The sky was darkened with clouds announcing imminent rain and his eyes instantly drifted towards the cute, cozy, little store across the street. It was still open. Two girls in school uniforms were leaving the bakery at that moment, both carrying little brown paper bags and cups of coffee and chatting animatedly.

Blaine had been avoiding this. He had told himself he couldn't go back in there, he couldn't allow himself to find a place – a person – that made him feel he was finding sanctuary. He couldn't stay there permanently and the cold, raw world would only look worse when he had to leave it.

Still, his feet seemed completely disconnected from his brain, because before he knew it, he was crossing the street, briefcase bumping against his thigh, dodging a car that honked furiously at him. He stopped in front of the glass doors and looked inside. Kurt had his back to the front of the store and seemed to be piling empty trays that had previously had cupcakes on them. He then disappeared into the kitchen.

Blaine took a deep breath and went inside before he had time to change his mind.

He could hear Kurt's melodious voice humming from the other side of the wall as he slowly approached the counter. And Kurt must have heard him come in, because he interrupted the song for a few seconds to say "I'll be right there!"

Blaine paced around the bakery as he waited, and saw Kurt had put up a board with pictures pinned to it that wasn't there before. He moved closer to take a look at them and he couldn't hold back a smile when the first thing he saw was what unmistakably was a young Kurt wearing grease stained coveralls as he sat on a man's lap, looking extremely happy. That man could only be his dad, Blaine assumed, as he studied the way they both leaned into each other, warmth in their eyes. Kurt had been an adorable kid, he had to admit, as his eyes darted to another picture where he couldn't be more than five years old. He was wearing a grey shirt with a red bowtie, his hair perfectly brushed, as he sat at a tiny wooden table with a tea set and four plastic cupcakes on it. Across from him, sitting on one of the ridiculously small chairs, was a woman. Just one look at her told Blaine she had to be Kurt's mom. They had the same eyes, the same smile, even. The same happiness that he had sensed in the previous picture was there, too, as if little Kurt couldn't imagine his life any better than it was.

There were a few more pictures, some of them of an older Kurt, obviously with friends from high school and other family members, but Blaine didn't have time to see them all because he heard Kurt's steps coming back from the kitchen.

"Hi, what can I get you?" He asked cheerfully, and Blaine turned around to see him. The smile on Kurt's lips became a bit hesitant, but then went back to simply beautiful. "Hi, Blaine. I didn't think I'd see you again so soon. What can I do for you?"

Blaine tightened his grip on his briefcase. "I… promised I'd come back for that cheesecake, but I… didn't have the chance, so…"

"Oh, well…" Kurt's eyes moved to the displayer with cakes on the left. "I'm afraid I've run out of cheesecake."

Blaine followed his gaze. Now that he was here, he didn't want to leave just like that, so soon. He wanted to keep listening to Kurt's beautiful voice, he wanted to keep untangling the mystery that Kurt's eye color was to him, he wanted to keep looking at him for a few minutes more, wondering if that pale, creamy skin was as soft as it looked…

He nodded towards half a chocolate cake. "What about that one? Is it any good?"

Kurt gave him what it almost looked like an offended, yet cute glare. "Everything I bake is good."

"Of course," Blaine smiled a bit. He really couldn't help himself when he was around the other man.

"That's my Rachel cake. It's vegan," Kurt said as he walked to the displayer. "I like to create deserts based on my friends or family. She always complained there were not enough chocolate cakes for vegans, so here it is."

"I was never a fan of vegan cuisine, but I could try it out," Blaine muttered. "And that is actually really nice of you, naming deserts after the people you love."

"Except for my brother. I have a sandwich named after him," Kurt answered with a smirk. "And I think I can find something more suitable to your tastes…"

Blaine didn't say anything as Kurt carefully studied the contents of the two displayers in the store. Blaine still had no idea what he was doing there or what he was looking for or what he was expecting to happen. He only knew he had had a terrible day and that one second of Kurt smiling at him could make everything better. And he really didn't want to go home feeling bitter, desperate and… had he mentioned bitter?

"Here," Kurt came back to the counter carrying a red velvet cake with chocolate frosting. "I think you'd like this one."

"Does it have a name, too?" Blaine asked curiously, leaning against the counter to take a better look.

"No, I found this one in a recipe book," Kurt explained as he cut a piece. He looked hesitant for the second time. "I… would you like it to go or…?"

"Do you mind if I have it here?" Blaine said, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"Not at all," Kurt smiled and placed the piece of cake on a white porcelain plate. He grabbed a fork from one of the drawers and hand it to Blaine. "Coffee?"

"Sure," Blaine nodded, feeling the tension easing a bit.

Kurt started the coffee machine and grabbed two paper cups from the stack next to it. As he waited for the coffee to reach the perfect temperature, he walked to the door and flipped the sign on the door to closed.

"Oh, wait… is it your closing time?" Blaine said, nervous again. "I can take it to go…"

"It's okay, I just don't want more people coming in, especially since I pretty much sold everything I baked last night," Kurt said as he poured two cups. He gave one to Blaine and kept the other to himself. "Would you like to sit down?"

Blaine walked to the table Kurt was pointing at and sat down, a bit surprised when the other man sat in front of him with his own cup. When he took a sip of the dark liquid, Kurt almost moaned in pleasure and he visibly relaxed.

"Long day?" Blaine took a sip, too, and sighed in contentment. It was much better than the coffee he had at his office.

"Very long day," Kurt sat back, getting comfortable, blue, beautiful eyes boring into Blaine's. "And I think you had a pretty exhausting one, too, am I right?"

Blaine clearly wasn't expecting that. He had just cut a piece of cake to take to his mouth and paused with the fork in the air. His hazel eyes looked a bit disturbed. "I…"

"Hey, it's fine, you don't have to say anything. It's just that it really seems you need to talk to someone," Kurt shrugged. "Most people are eager to get home after a rough day at work, but for some reason you're here, at a closed bakery, having coffee with a stranger."

"You're not a stranger, you're Kurt," he replied, before he could stop himself. And then he realized what he said. "I mean…"

"We've only seen each other twice, but we know each other's names, so I think, no, maybe we're not strangers anymore," Kurt conceded thoughtfully.

Blaine remained silent for a few seconds and to gain more time, he took a bite of cake. When the spongy red velvet and almost orgasmic chocolate touched his tongue, he had to use all his self-control not to moan loudly. "Oh my God, this is the most delicious thing I've ever eaten."

Kurt's grin was warm, almost bordering on loving, as he watched Blaine take a second bite. "I'm glad you like it."

"I'm going to take the rest of that cake home," Blaine used his fork to point at the cake still on the counter where Kurt had left it after cutting his piece.

"Okay, it's yours, then," Kurt said, amused.

Kurt finished his coffee as he watched Blaine practically devour the rest of the cake on his plate, both men not saying another word. But when the cake was gone, Blaine cupped his coffee between his hands and the uneasy feeling he had been carrying around all day (fuck it, all his life), was too overwhelming to keep ignoring it.

"I'm sorry you had to see that scene between me and my father today," he said, eyes glued to his cup, unable to stare at Kurt as he spoke.

"Don't be, it wasn't your fault," Kurt answered softly.

"Still, I feel terrible you had to see it," Blaine continued, voice low and a bit embarrassed.

Silence extended between them again, Blaine obviously without knowing what to say, as Kurt tried to find a way to comfort him.

"Don't take what he says so seriously…" he started and Blaine's eyes immediately went up to meet his, leaving Kurt almost breathless at the intensity he found in them.

"Oh, he makes sure I take everything he says seriously," Blaine laughed humorlessly.

"Why do you work with him if he makes you feel like this?" Kurt asked, curiously.

Blaine wasn't sure how much he should say, but his heart needed some relief, so he sighed before answering. "The only relationship I have with my father right now is through work. If I resigned and looked for a job somewhere else, it would be like having no father at all. It may sound stupid, but he's my family. I don't want to lose him."

I don't want to be alone, a voice in his head added, but Blaine didn't speak those words aloud.

"Have you ever talked to him, told him how you feel?" Kurt tilted his head to the side, as if he was trying to find a new angle to the situation.

The idea sounded so ridiculous that Blaine had to laugh bitterly again. "He's not exactly the kind of man who listens to what others have to say. He talks, he gives orders and he expects the rest of the world to be the ones listening and obliging."

Kurt made an effort to imagine what it would've been like to have a father like that, but the image of Burt, always so kind, so generous, so eager to help his son in any way he could, didn't allow him to. He only could guess how bad it must had been for the other man and he felt a pinch of pain in his heart for him.

"Oh, Blaine," he whispered and, without really thinking, he reached across the table and took his hand. Blaine stopped breathing, staring at their intertwined fingers until Kurt came back to his senses and pulled back, horrified with himself. "Oh God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. That was inappropriate."

Blaine's skin was tingling where Kurt's hand had touched him. He was soft. He swallowed with some difficulty, marveled at the numerous emotions that one simple touch had elicited on him. It was scary, Blaine thought. He hadn't felt anything like that for a very long time.

He forced himself to smile at Kurt, who seemed to be seriously beating himself up for holding his hand. "It's okay, really. I don't mind at all." I loved it.

"I still apologize. I don't know what's wrong with me, I've never been a touchy-feely person and this is the second time I've done that today," Kurt blushed, remembering how he had grabbed his arm earlier that day. "I hope… those men looked at us when I… I hope I didn't…"

"Oh," Blaine's eyes had sad sparks on them now. "Don't worry about it. I'm used to it…"

"Used to it?" Kurt quirked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I…" Blaine doubted. Should he be honest with Kurt? What would he say if he told him the truth? Blaine hadn't really said the words in a very long time and he felt them oppressing his heart, as if they were forming a cage around it. He just wanted to break free. "I'm gay."

Kurt blinked and that was all the response Blaine got from him.

"I… everyone knows at the office, so that's why they looked at us like that," Blaine explained, without really knowing why he kept talking. "They all think I have some sort of contagious disease. I'm sorry you had to go through it, that they made you feel uncomf-…"

"I'm gay, too," Kurt blurted out, apparently coming out of the trance Blaine's confession had put him in.

"Oh."

They looked at each other, silent, not knowing what exactly was happening.

And then Kurt started laughing. It was a clear, beautiful laugh that warmed Blaine all over.

"Why are you laughing?" Blaine asked, a huge smile spreading on his lips, as he looked at the flustered, gorgeous Kurt in front of him.

"I don't know," Kurt admitted, straightening up and wiping some tears from his eyes, as he tried to catch his breath. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh."

Blaine was amazed. Kurt seriously was the most interesting man he had ever met. "You know, this is the first time someone laughed at me when I came out to them."

"Oh, I'm not laughing at you," Kurt muttered, biting his lip. "This whole situation seemed so tense, like we were confessing our sins or something, it was so silly."

"Well, my mother would probably say we were," Blaine rolled his eyes.

Kurt stopped laughing instantly. His expression was concerned. "Are you saying your mother doesn't accept the fact that you're gay?"

"No," Blaine sounded confused. "Why would she?"

Kurt's eyes widened. "You think it's okay that your mother doesn't like who you are?"

"Isn't that some sort of rule?" Blaine shrugged, feeling really awkward.

"No," Kurt replied, horrified. "Oh my God, Blaine, do you honestly believe that?"

Blaine avoided his eyes. "I… I should go."

"No, no, wait," Kurt reached out again to take his hand and was relieved when Blaine didn't pull back immediately. "I'm sorry if I'm making you feel uncomfortable, I just… I don't understand."

"Are you trying to tell me that your parents are okay with you being gay?" Blaine asked with a tone that indicated he couldn't believe such a thing.

"Yes," Kurt said, simply.

"I thought that only happened in movies," Blaine sat back, evidently shocked. His eyes moved back to the board with the pictures. Kurt followed his gaze and let go of his hand to stand up and get one. He put it on the table in front of him.

"This is my dad, Burt," he said, as Blaine looked at the same man he had seen with the greasy coveralls with a very young Kurt, but here he was wearing a tuxedo and smiling and hugging a teenage Kurt. "I told him I was gay when I was sixteen years old and he told me he knew since I was four."

Blaine couldn't hide his surprise. "Really? He didn't…?"

Kurt didn't need for Blaine to finish that question. "He always accepted me for who I am, he knows this is not a choice. I think he wants me to find a nice guy more than I want to, actually," and with that Kurt laughed.

But Blaine remained serious. Because he couldn't understand how men like Burt existed in a world he had always thought it was homophobic by default or because of the fact Kurt had practically told him he wasn't seeing anyone, he didn't know.

Kurt sighed, sadly. "I'm sorry. Should I have not told you about him? I thought it might help…"

"No, it's fine, I just… I'm having a hard time understanding right now," Blaine mumbled, rubbing his thumbs over his temples, the exhaustion of the day catching up with him again.

"Don't try so hard, Blaine," Kurt said sweetly, grabbing his hand again when Blaine put it on the table, and tracing circles over his palm, soothingly. "Your job is to be yourself, and your dad's job is to love you no matter what."

Blaine gulped, nodding awkwardly. That concept was so foreign to him… and so impossible. He knew Walter Anderson would never fit into that mold. He would never accept Blaine and Blaine would never stop being a disappointment to him.

Kurt finally pulled his hand back and stood up, grabbing the empty plate and the two cups of coffee. He walked towards the kitchen, letting Blaine have a moment for himself.

Saying Blaine was confused wasn't even close to describing the way he felt. On one hand, his whole body was vibrating because of Kurt's proximity and gentle touch and on the other, his brain was trying to work to process the information he had just received.

He felt stupid. Of course there were accepting people out there. What about big cities like New York, where gay couples walked around holding hands without it being anything weird or out of place? He had been so absorbed with his own misery that he had assumed his parents' reactions were typical. But then there was Kurt, with a board full of pictures of people that loved him for everything he was and that easy smile that assured him there was a bright side he didn't know about.

Blaine felt the headache growing at the base of his brain. He sighed, tiredly, and stood up just as Kurt came back from the kitchen.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, a bit concerned. He was afraid he had said too much to Blaine, that instead of helping him he had ended up complicating things even more.

"Yes, I think I am," Blaine gave him a smile, a weak one, but a smile at least. "I'm just exhausted, so I think I'd better go home. And you must be, too, so I'm going to leave you alone so you can do the same."

"Oh, I live upstairs, so I'm already home," Kurt leaned against the counter, grinning comfortingly. "I hope I didn't… you know, make things worse for you."

"No, you're amazing," Blaine said without realizing what was coming out of his mouth until he saw the light blush on Kurt's cheeks and felt a blush of his own taking over his face. "I mean…" he gaped like a fish out of the water and finally decided to just tell the truth. "Well, yeah. You are."

Kurt giggled, looking down at the counter, avoiding Blaine's eyes. "Thank you."

"I'm the one who should say that," Blaine took a step forward to get closer to him. "Kurt, I… I can't remember the last time someone talked to me like that. I can't remember the last time I felt like… like I didn't have to hide from everyone."

"You don't have to hide with me, I understand, you know?" Kurt's eyes were now fixed on Blaine's. "We may have had different experiences, but I still know how you feel. And I hope you come back if you need to talk to someone…"

"Oh, I'm definitely coming back," Blaine grinned and then, more seriously, he added, "for real this time."

Kurt nodded and they just stared at each other for a moment, before Blaine pulled his wallet out of his pocket to pay.

"No, no," Kurt pushed his hand away when Blaine extended the money. "Today's on me."

"Kurt, I can't accept that…" Blaine said immediately. "Please, let me…"

"This is what friends are for," he said quietly, but firmly and Blaine felt his heart jumping inside of his chest. "You'll pay next time you come by."

"I…" Blaine didn't feel right leaving without paying.

"You won't convince me to take your money," Kurt sing-sang in a way Blaine found utterly adorable. "Now go home, relax and try not to think too hard, okay? I can already hear the gears inside your head turning."

Blaine laughed, a little more sincerely this time, and reached out for Kurt's hand, giving it a squeeze. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Kurt squeezed back.

Kurt walked him to the door. They exchanged awkward goodbyes and then Blaine stepped outside. The air had changed and it was obvious it was going to rain soon. Blaine crossed the street towards the parking lot and, before entering, he turned around back to the bakery. Kurt was still standing there, arms crossed over his chest and a sweet smile on his perfect face. Blaine waved and he waved back.

Blaine's apartment always seemed lonely to him when he arrived, but tonight, with the sound of the rain tapping against the windows and the touch of Kurt's hand still tingling on his skin, he felt it wasn't so bad.