Talk soon I guess.
- Kurt

It hurt to read Kurt’s diary today. Because despite the birthday messages from all the Warblers, my grandfather and even Cooper and his family, the two people who I wanted most to hear a “happy birthday” from more than anything in the world seemed to forget about it.

Well, I wasn’t holding my breath for a message from my mother, but I thought my father would at least have said something. But when I got to the breakfast table that morning, all I got was a note that said he would be away on business for the weekend and that I should feel free to use the Chevy when I wanted to.

Not only had he forgotten, but he would be away for the whole weekend.

Hurt and frustrated, I climbed into the Chevy and drove to the tyre shop only to discover that it was closed.

“Ugh! Can I not just catch a fucking break today?” I growled in frustration, punching the horn for good measure. I knew it wouldn’t achieve anything, but I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.

To my surprise, one of the huge revolving doors of the shop opened a little to reveal Kurt looking around the lot in confusion, trying to see what the noise was about. When he saw that it was me, he walked over to the car with a smile that faded the nearer he got. I rolled down the window and was immediately met with a blast of ice-cold air.

Stupid winter birthdays.

“Hey, Blaine,” said Kurt, his face now one of puzzled concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” I lied, feeling annoying tears prickle behind my eyes. I did not need to cry in front of Kurt. I really didn’t want him thinking that I was some stupid kid who cried at things that weren’t that bad.

“Blaine, I can see you’re upset. Come park the Chevy inside and we can talk about it if you want. Or better yet, I can lock up the shop and we can head to the Lima Bean together. I haven’t been there in years and they make the best coffee in all of Ohio. Coffee makes everything better.”

I smiled at that. We held similar views on coffee.

“Okay,” I said quietly. Kurt smiled and went off to lock up the shop. Five minutes later we were pulling away and heading towards the small coffee shop on the outskirts of town.

“Finn didn’t open the shop today because he had to go out of town to negotiate some new equipment,” said Kurt after several moments of awkward silence.

“Oh, that’s cool,” I said, hating the tone of my voice. I sounded flat and disinterested. And while, yeah, equipment was hardly the most interesting topic on Earth, Kurt was making an effort to spark some kind of conversation and I was acting like some moody teenager.

Kurt backed off a little after that, turning the radio up to fill the awkward silence instead.

“I love this song,” he said as a loud top-forties came on. With an embarrassed smile he added, “Shh, don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What does that even mean?” I asked indignantly. “This happens to be my favourite kind of music.”

Which wasn’t totally true as my extensive collection of old Crosby and Sinatra records would attest. Kurt seemed to catch on immediately.

“I call bullshit,” he said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “This is not the favourite music of a guy who wears bow ties as everyday fashion. I should know.”

I roll my eyes and nod.

“Yeah, you caught me,” I laughed. “I prefer the crooners.”

“Figures,” said Kurt with a nod. “I sense they’re your fashion inspiration too?”

“A little,” I shrug. “If that’s the case it’s mostly subconsciously. I just wear what I like wearing, but now that I think about it, it’s all very crooner-y.”

“Crooner-y,” repeated Kurt with a smirk. “Officially added to my vocabulary.”

I didn’t know what to reply to that, so I gripped the steering wheel and stared at the road. Things seemed to be heading in the direction of awkward silence again, until Kurt started singing along with the song.

My heart seemed to stop.

His voice was perfect.

“Finn tells me you’re a Warbler,” he said suddenly, nudging me on the arm. “You should sing too. Don’t leave me out here all alone on this limb.”

I took a deep breath, before joining in with him. Since it was a female artist singing, I took a harmony instead of the melody and was amazed to find that Kurt was singing all the same notes the woman was singing in the correct octave and everything.

“You’re a countertenor!” I said, completely amazed. Voices like his were really rare, yes, but I was more astonished by the fact that I had just learned that about him. Nowhere in any of his diaries did he mention the fact that he could sing like that.

“That I am,” he said, a hint of pride to his voice. “I used to hate it, but I’ve since realised that it’s stupid to hate yourself for something that sets you apart and makes you unique. So I work it. I use it and I’m finding that people actually enjoy it.”

“That’s really awesome,” I said with a genuine smile, wondering where in the conversation he made me forget about my problems and just enjoy myself.

It wasn’t long after that that we reached the Lima Bean and were standing in line in front of the barista counter. I was happy and a little worried to see that Jo was working that day. Jo and I had become friends through my regular visits to the Bean. She went to McKinley and was working to earn money for college. When the shop wasn’t busy we often ended up just talking for ages about school, the future and just life in general.

She was the only person who knew about the diaries.

What would she say if she saw me with Kurt? Would she put two and two together? Would she judge? Probably not. She had had her fair share of quirky relationships.

I didn’t really get a chance to properly worry about it because before I knew it we were at the front of the line.

“BLAINE! OHMY GOD I’M SO GLAD YOU’RE HERE!” she all but screamed, and I realised that I would pay amazing amounts of money to find a way to keep her quiet. “Oh my god, my phone broke and you know my mom and computers so I had no way to wish you and I was so hoping you’d visit and oh my god, happy birthday.”

I half cringed, half grinned as she handed me an enormous home-baked cookie with “OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” written in rainbow-colored frosting. It was so typically Jo that I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Thanks, Jo,” I said, realising that I was blushing to my roots, even more now that I realised Kurt was staring at me with a horrified look on his face. To be fair, it looked like he was more horrified with himself for not knowing it was my birthday than anything else.

“You’re welcome, Blainers. I know we don’t hang out much outside my shift times, but you mean a lot to me. Anyway, what can I get you and your friend…?”

“Kurt,” he supplied, his shocked expression turning into a genuine smile as he reached out to shake Jo’s hand over the counter.

“Kurt, nice to meet you,” she replied with a smirk that I knew meant that she had immediately worked it out. “I’m taking it you’re new in town? I’ve never seen you around.”

“I’m back from New York for a while,” he said with a small chuckle. Then turning to me he asked, “What can I get you, Blaine? I’ve never heard your coffee order before.”

I was suddenly unable to speak. Every word I knew seemed to vanish and I stood their gaping like a fish out of water.

“It’s okay, I know his usual,” said Jo with a smile that was just ever so slightly knowing. I wanted to die.

“Oh, okay,” said Kurt. “Well, I’ll have a non-fat mocha.”

I immediately reached for my bag to grab my wallet, but Kurt placed his hand on my forearm, stilling it.

“Don’t you dare,” he said with a gentle smile. “It’s on me.”

In addition to being mute, it seemed that my insides had turned to jello.

Fuck.

Only a few minutes later, we were heading to an open table, Jo having bid us farewell with a polite wave and a wink to me when Kurt had turned his back.

“So it’s your birthday today,” said Kurt, not angrily or with offense, just stating a fact with the tiny hint of a question behind it.

I nodded, not really sure what else to say to him. I felt like I’d fucked up somehow and I wasn’t sure how I was going to go about fixing it.

Almost as if he sensed my thoughts, Kurt gave me with a concerned look.

“Is that why you were so upset earlier?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “But that’s dumb, right? You’re supposed to be happy on your birthday. Not feel like shit.”

“Trust me, it’s not as uncommon as you think,” he said with a smile and it took all my strength not to reply with ‘yeah, I know’. Instead, I tentatively took a sip of my hot coffee and stared at my obnoxiously colorful cookie. Kurt took a deep breath.

“Look, Blaine, you don’t have to tell me anything. I know I’m just some stranger that you met a few days ago. But I’m serious when I say that I need someone to talk to as much as I’m sure you do. And I know we’re not there yet and might never be because I’m probably creeping you out so much right now, but I just… god I just need someone who isn’t… who’s not… doesn’t know about -“

“Okay,” I said simply, interrupting Kurt’s torrent of incoherent words.

“Okay?” he said, looking surprised that I had actually agreed.

“Yeah, okay. Because what I gathered from that stirring monologue is that you want to be friends. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.”

“No, that’s definitely what I want,” said Kurt, smiling widely.

“Okay, you do know that I’m a high school senior, right? I’m still a teenager and shit. Like, today is the first day I’m experiencing being eighteen.”

I asked, because I had to be sure that he knew. He could have forgotten. We hadn’t had too much in the way of conversation before this and it could honestly have slipped his mind.

“I know, Blaine. That’s why I thought you might find me creepy. I just really need someone I can talk to about the shit I’m going through who doesn’t know anyone involved and who can give me honest and impartial feedback and you... you just seem like a really easy-to-talk-to person.”

I know you though, I thought to myself. I know you and I know whatever you tell me about this douche bag is going to make me want to punch him in the face if not drive me to murder.

He gave me a curious look and I smiled softly.

“Friends,” I said, nodding. “Because I think I may need the same thing.”

Kurt smiled at me over his cup of coffee and my stomach did a somersault. I managed to compose myself and glanced over at my birthday cookie.

“I suppose now that we’re friends I should split this with you,” I said with a grin, taking it our of it’s wrapper, breaking it in half and offering the larger piece to Kurt. “Coffee's great, but I’ve heard cookies really make everything better.”

“Well, I mean, if you insist,” said Kurt, accepting it with a chuckle. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” I said with a sincere smile. “I mean, without this my birthday would have sucked.”

“Anytime,” he said with a smile that lit up his eyes.

I glanced over at the barista counter to see Jo with her head propped up on her hands like she was watching the cutest rom-com in the world. I quickly looked back down at the table again, wondering if I was that obvious to other people.

And that wasn’t my only worry. Because despite the fact that we still weren’t speaking, and he hadn’t contacted me at all for my birthday, I was still technically still Sebastian’s boyfriend.

It was so easy to forget when Kurt was leaning over to brush crumbs of ‘OMG happy birthday’ cookie from the corner of your mouth with his unbelievably soft thumb.

All of this was heading in the best and worst direction I could possibly imagine, and I was loving every second of it.