The tall, well dressed man stopped to scoop the dark haired little girl into his arms. Blaine could just make out what he was telling her.

“Come on Baby, I know it’s late – I’ll carry you the rest of the way. Then you can snuggle up with Mr Bunkin.” The man’s voice was high and caring. Blaine tried to shrink into the shadows (something he had become far too adept at over the years) as the man turned to cross the deserted street, his arms wrapped protectively around the girl. Once they were out of sight Blaine continued his own walk home, suddenly feeling sullen.

**

22 Years ago

Blaine was bundled up in a warm quilt, feeling rather sleepy. Everything smelled a bit weird and he could hear a strange beeping noise. That didn’t belong in his room. He scrunched up his little face and opened his bleary eyes to a world filled with white and low voices. His arm was aching and felt unusually heavy. He started to panic. Where was Mommy? Daddy would still be at work, like always, but Mommy was always there. Always.

One of the ladies looking at the strange machines by his bed noticed him stir and turned her attentions to him immediately.

“Shh, Sweetheart, you’re Okay. You’re in the hospital. My name is Lucy and I’m here to look after you.” Her voice was warm and kind. But it wasn’t his Mommies. His eyes started to brim with tears. When he spoke his voice cracked.

“Where’s Mommy?” He looked up with wide hazel eyes, watching as Lucy exchanged glances with the other nurse.

“Mommy isn’t coming Darling. I’m afraid there was a fire and Mommy has gone to heaven.” Blaine let out a loud wail, screwing his tiny eyes up as Lucy held him close.
He calmed enough to ask her some more.

“So is Daddy coming to get me? Is Mommy coming back after?” The nurse looked really sad now.

“No Honey, Daddy has gone with Mommy. I’m sorry, they aren’t coming back, they can’t come back.” Blaine could feel the tears rolling down his face, normally he didn’t cry in front of girls, but he couldn’t stop.

“Don’t they want me anymore?” His voice had risen and become quite shaky.

“Oh no, sweetheart, it’s not that. It’s just the fire was really bad and Mommy and Daddy couldn’t get out. They tried Honey, they really did.” She pulled Blaine close and he let himself be held, still not 100% sure what had happened.

“How old is he Lucy?” The other nurse looked on with sympathy.

“Four. He’s four years old. Sometimes I really don’t like this job Stace.”

**
Present Day

When Blaine got home he threw his coat in the general direction of the rack and continued on to the kitchen, wrenching the fridge door open in the hope that some sort of edible anything would have magically appeared since he left for work. No such luck, so he planted himself in the chair nearest the window, staring moodily out at Chicago. He gazed out at the luckily good view he had been afforded when he took the tiny apartment just over six months ago.

His cell beeped from his pocket, he withdrew it with a sigh and saw it was from Joe. He wanted to know if Blaine was coming to the bar. He tapped out a positive reply and stood to make his way to his bedroom to change. He threw on his black jeans and a dark red polo, not bothering to check if they needed ironing, or if they were clean. Back in the living room/kitchen he shrugged on a black leather jacket he’d found years ago at a second hand shop, along with his boots and headed out.
The bar was only down the street and he saw Joe leaning against the wall, finishing a cigarette. He nodded his head in greeting.

“Hey man. How was it down at smoke central... er I mean work?” He said the last word with a certain amount of contempt, having spent as long as Blaine had known him looking for work himself.

“More productive than getting high all day.” Blaine slapped his friends back to show he was joking, watching as Joe stubbed out the cigarette butt with the toe of his boot and following him inside. The bar was extremely dark, owing to the never cleaned windows, small dark wood tables were scattered throughout with fraying stools surrounding them. At present there were only three other people in, who’s heads shot up to look at Joe and Blaine as they entered. They headed straight for the bar, the bartender having seen them and prepared their normal drinks: Joe’s Guinness and Blaine’s Whiskey.

They sipped their drinks in contemplative silence for a few minutes, perched on tall stools.

“Oh, Dude, I gotta tell you about this chick I met today...”

“Let me interrupt this before I have to listen to you wax poetic about this girl. She’s way outta your league.” The comment earned him a light hearted smack, in return, Blaine sent Joe a dark look, but signalled for him to continue.

“Okay, so she’s called Quinn, she’s a trainee councillor at the rehab place. We were talking earlier and she’s so cool man. She totally gets me, plus she’s hot!” Joe raised a hand, clearly expecting a high-five. Blaine left him hanging.

“If she’s a trainee councillor, surely it’s her job to be nice to you?” Blaine drained his glass and tapped his fingers on the bar for another, he figured if he was going to have to listen to another of Joe’s ‘Chick Stories’ he was going to need it.

“Shut up, she’s cool and she’s meeting me here tonight... and she’s bringing a friend!” He nudged Blaine, grinning from ear to ear. Blaine rolled his eyes.

“Joe, how many times do I have to tell you I’m gay?” Joe looked confused for a minute.

“No, Dude she’s bringing a Dude!” He seemed to think this settled the matter and started to babble on about things Blaine couldn’t bring himself to listen to. A man. Joe’s date was bringing a man. Maybe he was hot, it was about time Blaine got laid again. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Then again it was one more person that knew his face.

The beauty of being a fire-fighter was most of the time you wear a mask, people don’t know who you are or anything about you. And that’s the way Blaine liked it.
They chatted idly for another half hour or so before a petite blonde woman walked through the door with... shit. With the guy Blaine had seen the other night with his daughter.

“Quinn, hi!” Joe got up to greet her. Blaine remained where he was, waiting to be introduced.

“You must be Blaine, I’m Quinn and this is Kurt.” The blonde woman had a friendly voice, but with an edge, like if you pissed her off you’d know about it. Blaine nodded at her and turned to look at Kurt. He had hair that just begged to be messed up by wanton fingers; he wore a complicated buckled jacket and jeans that looked like they had been painted on. OK, he was hot.

“Hi.” Blaine took Kurt’s outstretched hand, grasping the soft skin no longer than absolutely necessary.

“Hi” Kurt took the seat next to Blaine and ordered a coke. He saw Blaine’s raised eyebrows.

“I have a kid with a babysitter, I can’t roll in drunk” When he chuckled the melodic sound went straight through Blaine in the most delicious way possible. The guy must be gay if he was here to meet Blaine. He wouldn’t get his hopes up though. Too many times Blaine had made this mistake and ended up in an embarrassing situation with the other guy rushing away begging him to keep it secret. He resolved not to get involved as much as possible. Instead he observed Quinn with Joe. The problem with Joe is he tended to fall too quickly, trust too readily. Blaine had to look out for him.

“She’s OK you know. She won’t hurt him, not intentionally anyway.” Blaine started and turned to see Kurt had been watching him. He shrugged non-committally.

“None of my business if she does.” Kurt raised an eyebrow.

“What do you do anyway?” Kurt was just being nice, Blaine reminded himself. He really didn’t like talking about himself, but Kurt just had that damn interested look on his face. Like he actually wanted to know.

“Fire-fighter.” Blaine avoided Kurt’s gaze, knowing he would find it hard to look into eyes like that and not talk, and keep up his well built defences. Fuck, he’d only met this guy a few minutes ago and he was already affecting him. He had to get out. Now.

“Ooh, I bet that’s really –“

“I have to go.” Blaine didn’t mean to be rude, well, actually he kind of did. But he couldn’t sit here getting to know this guy. Blaine didn’t ‘get to know’ people. He had friends, he didn’t need anyone else. Years in foster care had taught him not to get too close to people. He hadn’t been counting on the hurt look on Kurt’s face. Why did that bother him so much, he didn’t even know this guy.

“They only just got here.” Joe was throwing him a look that clearly said ‘sit the fuck down’.

“Yeah, sorry, just remembered I gotta... sort some stuff for work.” Blaine stood up and pushed his empty glass forwards, dropping a ten dollar note on the bar.

“Have a drink on me.” He turned and began walking out the bar.

“Dude, that’ll only cover yours. Never mind.” Blaine continued walking, turning left as he exited the bar. He only got a few paces before he heard hurried steps behind him however. He spun around, fully ready to give Joe a piece of his mind, only it wasn’t Joe. It was Kurt.

“Did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to push you out. You really don’t have to leave you know.” Kurt was twisting his hands together nervously, refusing to meet Blaine’s eyes.

“Um, no. I just remembered...”

“Yeah, sorry that’s the oldest excuse in the book.” Kurt sent him a wry smile.

“Uh...” Blaine felt like an idiot. He hated feeling like this. He didn’t have to feel like this.

“Would it be better if you and I went somewhere else, we don’t have to talk or anything. Call me crazy but I like what I’ve seen of you so far. I don’t want you to leave just yet.” Blaine was torn. He didn’t do this. He didn’t go places with people he didn’t know. He finally met Kurt’s eyes, noticing the array of colours swirling around them, were they blue or green? No. No, he wouldn’t go there.

“Well unfortunately for you I don’t wanna stay. Maybe next time.” Blaine turned and walked resolutely toward his building. He had been a jerk. He could have been a lot worse, yet he still felt bad. Which was weird in itself. Blaine never usually felt like shit. But that was the best way to protect himself. If he made himself inaccessible then people wouldn’t bug him. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t allow himself to think about Kurt. His dreams didn’t seem to share his practical thinking.

**