As soon as Blaine’s feet hit the pavement they were off, ducking through alleyways and scrambling across roads. Kurt was on a mission; occasionally they would stop; allowing Kurt to squint up at a road sign, make a calculation in his head, and take off down the sidewalk again.

After about half an hour, they came upon an ivory building with posters mounted in glass cases. Movie stars smiled down at them as they headed inside, and Kurt visibly relaxed.

“Come here often?” Blaine asked teasingly.

“I used to,” Kurt replied, checking over the movies on offer. “When Terri and I first got here. It was easier to get away then, since we weren’t busy with all this other stuff.”

He heaved a sigh and Blaine tried his hardest to ignore him as he rolled his neck, baring a very appealing stretch of perfectly pale skin. Kurt couldn’t have been doing it on purpose, Blaine knew. But despite their illusion of friendship, Blaine was one of Kurt’s millions of fans. And he was very gay. And Kurt was, by lots of definitions, a ridiculously attractive person. Looking at photos online and watching Kurt interact over videos, Blaine figured Kurt knew how appealing people found him. He couldn’t have been baiting Blaine, but Kurt was definitely drawing his attention.

“Other stuff?” Blaine managed to ask, only after staring at some poster with a smiling Neal Patrick Harris.

Kurt walked over to the kiosk and bought tickets for a movie, waiting until he returned to speak. “I mean, we got here with six months’ rent ad a rough outline for getting noticed. So there weren’t any PR agents, personal assistants, stylists, contracts and obligations…she let me wander the city between classes and what little gigs we could pick up. I spent a lot of time here our first summer.”

Blaine followed as Kurt moved into the theater proper, nodding as the scent of melted butter took over his senses. “But will she figure you’re here?”

“I don’t see why she would.” He answered. “I haven’t come since that first summer. I’m kind of hoping she’s forgotten about it.” Noticing Blaine’s discomfiture, he added, “We can leave right after, or even in the middle of the movie, if you want. Let me know if you don’t want to stay anymore.”

Blaine nodded again as they stepped up to the concessions counter. A moment of indecision and a minor argument over who was going to pay later, the boys were headed for the screening, Blaine tucking his wallet back into his shorts.

“This movie…”

“It’s kind of bad. Like, really bad. And I normally really like Neil Patrick Harris.”

“Well, you were staring at that poster like it was the only movie you ever wanted to see.”

“So you bought the tickets just because I looked obsessed?”

“Basically.”

Blaine snorted around his straw. “That was terrible logic, Kurt.”

Kurt merely shrugged. “It’s part of having a normal summer. Nice change.”

“Bad movies with people you barely know?” Blaine asked.

“The very best.” He was unapologetic. “Especially when I wasn’t planning on watching one in the first place.”

Was that a bad thing? Maybe Blaine wasn’t as welcome as Kurt had been making him seem. He sifted in his seat, uncomfortable.

“I mean, when you texted and cancelled, I was planning on kicking everyone out of my apartment at the end of the day and sleeping or something. Nothing exciting, but better than being bothered all night long, you know? It had been sounding better and better, though; I forgot how bad Terri always gets during shoots.  So she was being her usual charming self; Emma decided she wasn’t satisfied with the way the food was prepared, so I wasn’t allowed to eat anything until she re-washed it or had somebody else do it the way she liked it; and then Roz was calling around trying to pin down who I was having lunch with three weeks from next Tuesday and trying to get bitch-mode Terri to agree to everything she was planning. Plus Santana and Sebastian were harassing the makeup crew and stressing everyone out…”

“That’s a lot.” Blaine said, amazed.  Kurt nodded as he took a sip of his drink.

“It always is.” He agreed. “I don’t know why I thought inviting the entire entourage to the shoot was a good idea.  But I did it. So I was really looking forward to doing whatever I wanted in the afternoon, and then you walked in with Jake—”

“Sorry, but you mean Cooper, right?” Blaine asked.

“Who?”

“Cooper. You keep calling him Jake.”

“Is that not his name? That’s what he introduced himself as.” Kurt turned to look at Blaine as he asked, “Jacob Anderson?”

“No; well, yes—Cooper’s his middle name; we’ve called him that for longer than I can remember. Maybe he switched it to be more professional or something?” Blaine wondered aloud.

Kurt shrugged. “Like I said; he’s always been Jake to us. But anyway. You walked in with your brother and he looked so proud of himself for introducing us. I didn’t want to do anything then other than get out—with you!” he corrected when he caught Blaine looking uncertain again. “We were supposed to have lunch before, and I knew that if I found a way to get it—” Kurt stopped short, looking discomfited. Blaine watched as he battled something in his head, waiting as the headmistress on the movie screen got down to the bottom of the lies told by the main couple.  After several seconds of silence from Kurt, Blaine spoke up.

“Are you okay?” It was odd; Kurt had a lot to say when they were together, and he didn’t usually seem to have much of a filter; what exactly had made him stop? And it wasn’t like he didn’t have something to say; Blaine could see that much behind his eyes.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Kurt answered, still distracted. “Just…thinking about something, is all.”

Blaine watched him closely, thinking ‘Of course you’re thinking of something’, and hoping he would share.

Not like he had to, or anything. They’d only known each other a week and Kurt had to be more cautious than the average person, after all. While Blaine hadn’t reported his meetings to the nearest tabloid, Kurt couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t. So Blaine was content to wait until Kurt could trust him a little more before he started telling him absolutely everything.

“If you say so. But, I am here if you ever want to talk about it.” Blaine looked over at Kurt, catching his glance in the dim lighting of the projector screen; how were his eyes sparkling in semi-darkness? That just wasn’t fair.

“I know,” Kurt answered, smiling. It was a sad smile, Blaine figured. He wondered briefly what he would have to do to put another, genuinely happy one there instead; he had to quickly turn to the screen to hide the sudden flush that rose to his cheeks.

“Well then, make sure you remember. It’s what friends are for.”

“Yes, sir.” Kurt chuckled as the movie faded to the credits. With a groan, he got to his feet, gathering his things before holding out his hand for Blaine to take. Blaine’s mind churned a mile a minute as he took it and was tugged upright. Why did Kurt keep grabbing at his hand to take him places? It wasn’t like Blaine could lose him when they travelled together, what with the way Kurt would continually check over his shoulder to make sure he was still there. And it wasn’t that Blaine didn't like it—far from it, actually—since having a boy be unafraid to touch him was a wonderful rarity. It was just off-putting. As far as everyone knew, Kurt wasn’t gay. His people were very good at keeping his personal life under wraps and Blaine made it a point to ignore rumors that swirled around his fan base, much preferring the definite sources to the chatter of teenage girls.

So maybe Kurt was just more tactile with people in real life?

No matter how Kurt chose to interact (Blaine refused to let himself think and love), he needed to pay attention; the mid-afternoon sun seared his eyes as they stepped out of the theater, Kurt trying to hash out a battle plan.

“We can go look around in So Ho; there’s a little boutique there I  want to visit if it’s still open…or we can look for anything you want to see; or I guess we could take the subway to central park—d” Kurt stopped talking, interrupted by the rumbling of Blaine’s stomach.

Blaine laughed. “It has been a while since I ate anything. Maybe we can find an early dinner?”

“Sounds good. Let’s go more south, see what we can find.  I don’t think they’ll look for me any further out than Gramercy Park.”

They set off down the street, dodging people as they wandered in search of a restaurant. Kurt must have decided to put away whatever had bothered him earlier; he was chattering about everything that caught his eye, from billboards on building tops to the clothing they passed in the shop windows.

Blaine did notice, however, that he avoided talking about his workday after the pause. They wandered; in what Blaine thought was a southerly direction, for another twenty minutes or so, until they came across a Mexicana bistro that looked promising. People were crowding the tables on the sidewalk, laughing and unwinding from long days at work. After a couple minutes chatting with the hostess they decided to wait for a free table; after accepting their buzzer, they moved towards the edge of the crowd. Kurt folded himself down onto a nearby bench, heaving a sigh as he arranged his limbs.

“I almost never do this much walking; it’s nice” he said, taking another swipe at the back of his neck. As he reached for the tense spot, Blaine noticed a glittering around Kurt’s neck that he hadn’t in the theater. It flashed a white yellow in the sunlight, drawing Blaine’s attention from the smooth expanse of Kurt’s neck.

“What’s that?” Blaine pointed vaguely at Kurt’s neck when he looked at him, surprised. “Your necklace.”

Kurt drew the chain out of his shirt, revealing a silver pendant about an inch wide. It was a simple thing, circular and smooth; very different from the accessories Kurt wore on a regular basis, but it seemed like it had a type of gravity, if the way Kurt seemed to cave in on himself was any indication.

“This old thing? It’s nothing special, really.”

“It looks like it was a thoughtful present, at least. When’d you get it?” Okay, so Blaine was technically prying, he knew; he just couldn’t think of anything to talk about. Blaine’s life was bound to bore Kurt, so he didn’t want to bring it up, and Kurt was obviously feeling down about something he didn’t really want to share. So for the first time Blaine could remember, it was slightly awkward between them.

 And, being perfectly honest, talking about it gave him an excuse to look at Kurt without being very creepy.

Kurt watched the pendant for a moment before he finally answered.

“One of my best friends gave it to me as a Hanukkah present a couple years before I left. She thought it’d be a good idea for the three of us to have a friendship trinket, since we were the only two other kids in our school who actually liked her.”

“That was awkwardly sweet of her.” Blaine smiled at the tiny pendant, watching the way if reflected minute flashes of the city around them. “But you’re not Jewish, are you?”

Kurt laughed, and his eyes cleared of their uncertainty for a moment. “Good grief, no. We were the Jewess, the atheist, and the Christian girl who wouldn’t accept the Hanukkah gift until we agree to call them friendship gifts…”

“Oh.” Well that was unusual, Blaine figured. “Has your other friend gotten better at being open-minded?”

The veil descended over Kurt’s expression again, only this time, Blaine thought he may have detected more sadness—or was it guilt?—in it.

“I’m not sure,” Kurt answered. “We haven’t really talked since I signed with Terri to move up here; haven’t talked with either of them, really.”

“Oh?”

Kurt made a noise in the affirmative before startling; their table buzzer had begun sounding off in his lap. He stood quickly, tucking the necklace back under his shirt with his free hand and beckoning Blaine to follow with the hand holding the buzzer. Blaine did; trailing close behind as Kurt went back to the wait station and was led to a little table just inside the main dining area. It was a little crowded, jammed between the edges of the booth seats and just barely peeking out into the aisle, but it was the only available table, claimed the waiter when Blaine asked about maybe switching tables.

Kurt smiled weakly once they were seated, the both of them scrunched into the corner—it was either that or be constantly bumped into by the staff and customers as they passed—before reaching for the menu at the same time as Blaine.

It was already promising to be a bigger deal for Blaine than he had anticipated. He’d been expecting a trip to a quiet little bistro or something, where he’d be able to sit and talk to Kurt at a distance. The…nearness of their seats was just not okay; he could see every angle on Kurt’s face from where he sat. Every time Kurt shifted he caught another whiff of whatever scent Kurt was wearing, he could swear he felt the air shift each time Kurt took a breath—

It just hit him really, unfairly suddenly—again, just when he thought he was over it—that Kurt was sitting right next to him and sharing his air, so naturally his mind did what it did best when he was nervous: he opened his mouth and—

“At least it’s kind of secure right here? I mean, people won’t really be able to see the two of us; and even if they did, they wouldn’t recognize you right away, since the booths are making a kind of shadow—”

“Blaine!” Kurt laughed in earnest, patting him on the shoulder to try and calm him. “We’ll be fine. It’s just a little tighter than the average table. We’ll survive. Now, what do you want off the menu? We may have to get something to share; since the table’s so small and everything.” He tacked the ending on quickly; Blaine worked hard to merely nod before leaning over to look at the menu with Kurt.

‘If nothing else,’ Blaine thought as he set down his fork, ‘at least the awkward tension from earlier is gone.’

After Kurt managed to talk Blaine down from his panic, the dinner went wonderfully. They did wind up having to share an entrée after their appetizers arrived and they couldn’t eat properly without nearly bruising the other.

They were wrapping up desert, debating stopping somewhere for coffee before heading home. Kurt wasn’t interested in going home, and once Blaine could get a little space between them, he knew he would be hesitant to return to the hostel. He’d be alone in their dorm until Rachel stumbled back from her practice room at Columbia or he had to commute up there and drag her out. It wasn’t something he was looking forward to, but he knew it was inevitable.

“I don’ think I’m going to be able to.” Blaine said finally, checking his phone for the time; when had nine o’clock rolled around? “If I go to coffee I’ll miss hauling Rache from her musical stupor before the security guards kick her out.”

Kurt sighed, swirling the last of some cake around on his plate. “I guess that makes sense,” he allowed, “But I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

Blaine cocked his head. “And why is that?”

“Like I said earlier, this feels normal; it’s nice.”

“Hiding away from your entourage and meeting with some guy you met on accident is ‘normal feeling’?”

Kurt huffed lightly and pushed lightly at Blaine’s shoulder before flagging down their waiter for the check. “No. Looking for things to do, finding bad movies on accident, eating dinner, and just…being. That’s normal. Of course, wandering the city with someone who doesn’t care about my professional life doesn’t hurt.”

“I don’t know,” Blaine teased, “It’s pretty simple, meeting international sensations; they’re the only people I’d rather talk to…”

“I’m so sure. I’d hate to be cutting into your late-night spa date with Lady Gaga.”

“Thank goodness. I was worried I’d have to start making up real excuses for leaving.”

“I told you that you could leave whenever you wanted to—”

“Kidding, Kurt. And don’t think I didn’t see you pull that credit card out of your wallet just now. We’re splitting the bill.”

“Are we now?” Kurt demanded coyly, flipping the check holder open, sliding the card into the pocket, and handing it back to the waiter when he glided by again. Blaine scowled lightly as Kurt smiled at him.

“I’d rather it be that way. I don’t want to owe you anything, you know?”

“It’s just a dinner, Blaine.”

“Yeah, but still…I don’t want to be some random nobody that mooches off of you whenever you see me. I mean, you got the coffees last week and a new pair of shorts for me—”

“The coffee was practically mandatory and the shorts were a steal—” Kurt interrupted.

“And I’m pretty sure you bought our dinners after Rachel and I went to see Wicked…it’s like you don’t think I’ll stay if you don’t take care of everything.” Blaine continued, looking resolutely at the edge of the table.

“That’s not true at all!” Kurt said. When Blaine didn’t look up at him, Kurt grabbed his hand, tugging until he looked up, surprised at the sudden contact. “I’m paying because I want to; it’s easier to just pay and to be honest, it gives my accountant something to sorry over other than my savings accounts. I’m not trying to keep you or buy you of or anything.”

Kurt’s eyes radiated sincerity; he looked so ready to stand by what he said that Blaine couldn’t help but smile a little.

“I still don’t like it.” he said, pulling his face into a mockery of a pout.

“There’s only one way to fix this, from where I see it,” Kurt answered, taking the bill back from the waiter and signing a receipt with a flourish.

“And what way would that be, Mr. Hummel?” Blaine asked, once the waiter was out of earshot. At the mention of his last name, Kurt blanched before standing as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself.

“Earth to Kurt” Blaine called quietly, before Kurt reached over and covered his mouth—he was honestly one of the most tactile people Blaine had ever met—and muttered quietly, so just Blaine could hear,

“We’ve got to get out of here, like, now.” Kurt pulled his hand from Blaine’s face and helped him to his feet. “I cannot believe I just did that.”

“Did what?”

“Used my personal card, and then my usual signature. God, I just autographed a receipt. We’ve got maybe 2 minutes before the manager or whoever notices, and 3 before the paparazzi show up. We have to go.”

Blaine followed him out the door, staying quiet and hoping for the world he didn’t look like he was travelling with some kind of unsavory character. Because he wasn’t. This was Kurt, who had more-or-less said they were friends, who hadn’t corrected Blaine when he dropped that f-bomb in the theatre.

But it would be bad if they got caught, he figured. So he worked with Kurt to leave the restaurant as nonchalantly as possible. They made it a little farther uptown, to one of the more major roads, before Kurt let them stop again.

“I guess this is where we should probably split up.” Kurt said reluctantly. “Do you know where you are?”

“I’m pretty sure; our hostel is maybe ten, eleven blocks away?”

“So you don’t think you’ll get lost.”

Blaine snorted. “Rache and I took a tour of this area when we first got here; I should be fine. What about you?”

“I’m taking a taxi. Maybe I’ll be able to get home before Terri and the minions catch me.”

They both shuddered. Kurt was probably bound for another falling out with Terri, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Neither of them questioned why Blaine, New York tourist, stood with him and helped call down a taxi. Blaine didn’t really know why, himself—no, that was a lie. Blaine didn’t want to return to his boring life; more likely than not Terri was really going to put Kurt on lockdown after that day’s stunt, and he really wanted the chance to hang out with Kurt again. And Kurt, Blaine figured, wanted to enjoy his stolen freedom to hang with a person he enjoyed while he could.

A taxi finally took pity on them and stopped. Kurt reached over to open the door, but paused before getting in.

“It was fun; thanks for letting me kidnap you.”

Blaine laughed. “As long as that’s what you tell Terri what happened, no problem. And thank you. For wanting to do stuff with me.”

“I keep saying it’s a nice change, don’t I?” He folded himself into the taxi as Blaine watched. Moments later the window rolled down. “You get home safely, okay?” he called as the taxi pulled off.

Blaine nodded as Kurt rode away, tiny smile on his face. He waited until the taxi was out of his line of sight before pulling out his phone.

Coffee Mate [9:45pm]: you know, if you had listened to me and split the bill we wouldn’t have needed to rush out of there.

He was almost home when he got a reply.

Ohmigod [10:00pm]: or you can pick something for us to do the next time i can get away and pay for it.

Coffee Mate [10:01pm]: that was your plan all along, wasn’t it?!

Ohmigod [10:03pm]: maaaaaaybe :)