Blaine began to see this boy everywhere. He began hanging around the coffee shop more than usual, hoping to catch glimpses of his mystery man, and picked up on the boy’s schedule. He came into the shop once a day, usually around noon, except on Wednesdays when he came in twice; once at noon, like usual, and once late at night, usually around 9 or 10, like the night Blaine had first seen him. This little quirk was one that Blaine discovered accidentally. Wednesday nights were usually his nights to catch up on all his homework for the week, since he had classes all day Thursday and work Thursday night. He was camped out in his usual spot when, to his surprise, the tall boy entered for the second time that day, only this time he was not alone.

“Oh my god, Rachel. You can’t just stop in the middle of a scene to yell at the crew. We open next week!” He said to the small, brown-haired girl next to him.

“I’m sorry, but if they can’t get the lighting right on my face then I don’t even know what I’m doing up there at all. If I’m gonna be the female lead, I should be treated as such. I’ve been waiting for this shot since high school, and I’m not gonna let some imbecile with a spotlight ruin this for me.”

“Rachel. The lighting was absolutely fine. And you’re not even the focus in that scene!”

“Regardless, it’s the details that make a scene, and I am pouring my heart and soul into those reaction faces. I practice them in front of a mirror every night, and I would like my efforts to be recognized.”

“God, I’ve missed your pre-show insanity. After the last show I was worried you were starting to tone it down a little into something resembling a normal human being. Nice to see that a little taste of the spotlight can still turn you into a raving lunatic who threatens the poor innocent guys in the lighting booth with a curling iron.” He said with obvious affection hidden underneath his sharp sarcasm. She shoved him playfully on the shoulder and stepped up to order.

So he’s a theater kid, Blaine thought. That would explain the double visit. Blaine had a friend who was majoring in technical theater, and he knew that Wednesday’s were always incredibly long rehearsal days.

Now that he actually looked, he could see the remnants of an obvious rehearsal on the boy’s face. He had bits of stage makeup left on his face and his hair was slicked back in a way that Blaine had never seen it before. He also had fading age lines on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes. Even ignoring the age lines, Blaine could tell that the boy was tired. His posture, although still much better than Blaine’s, was not quite as straight as usual, and his eyes drooped ever so slightly. Nevertheless, Blaine still found him strikingly handsome.

The boy picked up his coffee and turned around to rejoin his friend, Rachel, who was already halfway out the door.

“Come on, Kurt! Their doing the singalong screening of Cabaret at the Playhouse and we can still catch the end if we hurry!”

“Woman, when do you sleep?” he responded with a sigh as he followed her out the door.

Blaine stared after them for a minute, chewing on the end of his pen in deep contemplation.

“...Kurt,” he breathed to himself. The boy’s name was Kurt.

“Am I...interrupting something here, Anderson?”

Blaine jumped and dropped his pen in surprise as his head whipped around. His eyes landed on Jeff, his theater friend.

“Jesus, Jeff. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Jeff was looking at him with a cocked eyebrow and a knowing smirk. Blaine buried his face in his book to hide his blush. The blonde boy at his side plopped himself down at the table, dipping his head to try and catch Blaine’s eye.

“You got a thing for Hummel, Blaine?”

“No!” Blaine said almost too quickly. “I mean, what? No, why would you think-I don’t even know who you’re talking about.” Blaine could feel himself blushing to his roots, and couldn’t bring himself to look at Jeff. Jeff sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest triumphantly.

“Oh please. I was half tempted to offer you a napkin to wipe the drool off your face. You are so hot for him.”

“Shut up, Jeff,” Blaine pleaded.

“Well, you’ve got good taste Anderson. Kurt’s been killing it in rehearsals. The guy is so unbelievably talented. And single, too.” Jeff added with a wink. Blaine was about to protest again, trying to come up with a convincing argument, but he could tell by the triumphant look on Jeff’s face that there was no use denying it anymore. He was not going to win. He let out a sigh and let his head fall to the table.

“God, I’m pathetic. I think about him all the time, and I’ve never even met him.”

“Well, there’s an easy solution to that, isn’t there?” Jeff said calmly. Blaine lifted his head and looked at him. Jeff remained silent for a moment and then rolled his eyes. “...You should meet him.”

Blaine scoffed.

“Oh yeah, sure. ‘Hey! How’s it going? I’m the guy that’s been leering at you while you order your coffee for the past few weeks. I know next to nothing about you but you have a great ass! Wonderful to meet you.’ It’s foolproof, Jeff. Foolproof.” Jeff chuckled before continuing.

“Seriously, though. The show runs next Thursday through Saturday. You should come on Saturday, and then come with me to the cast party. I can say you came to support me, and people always bring friends to the cast parties so it’ll be totally cool. You can meet him under totally normal circumstances...providing you don’t open with the “Great ass” line.” Blaine laughed, but then he shrugged.

“I don’t know, man. I’m not so sure I could act like normal around him when I’ve secretly been spying on him for two weeks. He’s the actor, not me. I feel like I’d say something stupid and freak him out or make a fool out of myself.”

“Well,” Jeff said as he stood to leave, “Suit yourself. If you and your hand get lonely and you change your mind, you know how to reach me. See you around Blaine.” Jeff winked at him and walked out the door.

Ten minutes later, Jeff’s phone went off, and he smiled as he read the text on his screen.

What time does the show start? -Blaine

******

To say Blaine was nervous would be an understatement. He sat in his seat with his program in his lap, fiddling with it until it was torn up, wrinkled, and damp with the sweat from his palms. Why had he thought this was a good idea? He was going to see a play starring the boy that had been dominating his fantasies, with the intention of meeting him after the performance and somehow pretending that he wasn’t a creepy stalker pervert. Blaine was coming very close to just getting up and walking out. He couldn’t do this.

But then the lights dimmed and the curtain went up.

Shit.

He watched the story begin to unfold. It took place in the 1940’s, that much was clear, and there was something going on with a shady business deal and possibly something to do with a mob boss. Blaine was having a little trouble sorting out the details. Then he suddenly entered the scene. Any fragments of the plot that Blaine had sorted out flew out the window along with his brain’s ability to function.

He was wearing a gray suit and matching tie, a slightly rumpled white shirt underneath, and shiny black dress shoes that Blaine would have admired if Kurt hadn’t then quickly shed his suit jacket, revealing dark red suspenders that hung over his broad shoulders. Kurt draped the jacket over the back of a chair and began rolling up his sleeves, uncovering his lean forearms that made Blaine bite his lower lip. No one had spoken since Kurt had walked onstage. They were all staring at him with looks of fear and apprehension on their faces, waiting for him to speak. He leaned one arm on the table while he ran his other hand over his slicked back hair, sighing deeply before he spoke.

“Tell me the bad news.”

Oh wow. His voice was nothing like what it had been in the coffee shop. It was deeper, bigger, and had a rough, gravelly quality to it. Blaine felt his face grow hot and shifted in his seat. He watched as Kurt’s character waited for an answer. The other men seemed terrified to speak. Kurt glared at each of them until finally pointing an authoritative finger at one of them, who timidly stuttered out the details of the situation.

“Damnit!” Kurt yelled as he slammed his hand down on the table and began pacing. “He wasn’t supposed to be involved. He was supposed to know anything about this!” He angrily shoved a stack of papers off the table and planted his hands firmly on the edge of it, head hanging low between his shoulders. Blaine had lost all track of what exactly the problem was and who they were talking about. The sudden rage had made Blaine’s breath catch in his chest and sent blood rushing to all sorts of inappropriate places, and he was now focused on the clearly defined muscles of Kurt’s shoulders and the back of his neck, which were visible as his head hung low in frustration. Blaine was barely breathing but he retained enough awareness to casually cross his legs to hide his newly developed and quickly growing problem. He glanced sideways at the people seated on either side of him, neither of whom seemed to notice anything, thank god.

This was gonna be such a long show.

By intermission Blaine was sure he was going to die. Not only did Kurt look amazing but his acting was sensational, and Blaine simply couldn’t focus on anyone or anything else. His confidence and body language were mesmerizing, and Blaine couldn’t help but make mental notes of every line of his body, every muscle that rippled beneath his shirt, every subtle twitch of his mouth cock of his eyebrow. Just before intermission, Kurt’s character had manhandled the mob boss who was apparently blackmailing him. He had grabbed him by the lapels and whispered “Fuck you” right into his face before throwing him across the stage and walking off. Blaine had to bite his tongue hard to keep from whimpering.

As the lights came up he bolted to the men’s room. He stood over the sink and splashed cold water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror. I am in so much trouble, he thought. This man was unfairly attractive, and he was unbelievably talented. It wasn’t just Kurt’s body that attracted Blaine. It was his confidence, the way he presented himself, the way his eyes lit up and burned with passion as he was performing, the way he completely embodied his character, and the way he remained fully engaged in the scene for every second he was on that stage. Blaine found him fascinating. He had been trying to figure Kurt out since that first day in the coffee shop, gathering bits and pieces of information about him through careful observation, but after tonight his curiosity was raging more than ever. Small details and tentative speculations were not going to be enough anymore. He wanted to actually talk to him, find out what he was like offstage, what made him such a phenomenal actor, and what kind of a person he was underneath all the costumes and makeup.

From talking to Jeff about him over the last few days, he had discovered very little. Kurt had been single as long as he’d been in college. He’d had one relationship in high school, but Jeff didn’t know him well enough to know the details. All Jeff kept saying was that Kurt was incredibly driven in his acting, and one of the hardest working actors he had ever worked with. He could have his diva moments, of course, but would always put in the extra hours when he needed them or when someone else would benefit from them, and he was always appreciative of everyone around him. Honestly, Jeff couldn’t understand how he was still single. Blaine began to wonder as well. He couldn’t really be this perfect. He just couldn’t be. He had to have flaws, and Blaine wanted to know them simply out of a genuine desire to put together the pieces of the puzzle. Right now though, the boy simply got more and more amazing the more Blaine learned about him. This was not just raw physical attraction anymore. This was a hardcore, blushing, schoolboy crush. One that just happened to be coupled with raging, uncontrollable sexual attraction.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he ran his hands through his hair and rubbed at his eyes. This was not going to be as easy as Jeff had made it sound, but thinking about the way Kurt looked on that stage, Blaine didn’t think that at this point it would be physically possible for him to walk away. He was drawn to him. He steeled himself, mentally gathering his bearings, and returned to his seat for Act 2.

As the second act began, Blaine tried his hardest to regain some semblance of the plot. The female lead, played by Kurt’s friend Rachel, was obviously the love interest, and the two of them currently had a very dramatic scene alone together. The characters were discussing their desire for one another, but how they had to be very careful due to her close involvement with Kurt’s enemy. Their voices were low and intimate, and soon Kurt wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. Rachel whimpered into it, and Blaine found himself wondering whether she did it intentionally or not, because from what he was seeing, Kurt looked like a very good kisser, and he couldn’t help thinking that if he were in her place he would be doing a lot more than whimpering. He watched the way their lips moved together. Kurt’s lips looked so soft, so red, so inviting. Kurt wound his free hand into Rachel’s hair, and Blaine couldn’t tear his eyes away as Kurt parted his lips with a moan and- was that his tongue?

This time Blaine’s whimper was audible, and the woman next to him gave him a sideways glance. He blushed and looked down at his hands, which were clenching each other tightly in his lap. He needed to get it together. Luckily the lovers had now parted and left the stage. Blaine took a deep, shaky breath and tried to relax. Somehow he would make it to the end of this play.

******

45 minutes later Blaine found himself alone in the theater, waiting for Jeff after all the other theater goers had left. He felt very dazed, as if he were floating and didn’t know which way was up. This boy seemed too good to be true. Handsome, talented, driven, and yet somehow single, which was becoming extremely frustrating to Blaine. He couldn’t imagine that Kurt was secretly a horrible, wretched person behind closed doors and had managed to hide it from everyone, so there had to be some other logical explanation. Was he simply the type to stay a bachelor? Was he the type to search for Mister Right and just hadn’t found him yet? Had he been hurt in the past? Had his high school relationship been a bad one? If that was the case, how badly had it messed him up? Blaine stopped himself before he invented a whole dramatic, angsty backstory for Kurt based on nothing at all. He just needed to talk to him. He wondered if Kurt would even want to talk to him. What if he didn’t feel the same instant spark and connection with Blaine as Blaine had with him? It was one thing to have someone not return your feelings when you’ve been admiring them from afar, but if they finally met and Kurt still didn’t feel anything, that would hurt. Blaine began wishing as hard as he could that that wouldn’t be the case. Blaine was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t hear Jeff walk up.

“Wow. You ok?”

“What? Um, yeah. Yeah I’m...yeah.” He stood on shaky knees and turned a weak smile to Jeff, gesturing for him to lead the way.

“The party’s at a club just down the street. Are you ready for this?” Jeff asked.

Blaine held his breath for half a second. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”