Blaine wasn’t even sure if Trent heard that through the phone rapidly slipping through his fingers. He was currently pushing his way out of a vicious crowd of late for work New Yorkers, or attempting to. When an elbow connected with his stomach, he closed his eyes for a moment and vowed never to go for an early morning trip through the city again.

Not. Worth. It.

Just as the phone was about to slip to the ground Blaine heard a happily confused voice filter out of it.

“Well not really but continue.”

Sighing Blaine finally fell out of the crowd with a jolt, stumbling into a store doorway.

“There’s this timeless little coffee shop and this tragically beautiful man was there yesterday and I might go back today because I know he might too.”

Biting his lip he awaited Trents inevitable response, for which he was already planning a retort.

“I’m not entirely sure, but that might be stalking Blaine.”

“It’s not stalking! It’s not stalking because I haven’t memorised his schedule or – “

“Go buy some socks or something Blaine. I need to do my hair, and if you really want to see him again then ask him his name this time.”

Somewhat affronted Blaine gave his phone ‘a look’, blushing when he realised Trent couldn’t see it. Embarrassed and awkward he asked “How do you know I didn’t?”

“You almost never wear socks Blaine. You’re an idiot. Of course you didn’t ask his name.”

Scoffing, he sputtered into the phone before he heard a cheery goodbye and the conversation was over. Sometimes he hated his best friend, but at least he was more understanding than Wes.

Trudging off to continue his impending failure of a day, Blaine pondered the nature of stalking and the pros and cons of returning to Coffee Time at about 1:30pm.

Cons – Possibly stalking, may have to rush from 12 o’clock audition, will have to go to Central Park first to figure out how to get there.

Pros – Best coffee ever, chance to show off new bowtie, beautiful stranger, possibly make friends with nice employee called Violet.

Return to Coffee Time it was.

--

“Thank you for your time.”

With a nod and parting smile Blaine walked away from the snobby casting director. He didn’t even like TV that much, he just needed to be acting or performing somehow. He had too. He wanted to make something of himself, and while he was almost always performing nights and sometimes afternoons or mornings… he wanted to show the world what he could do.

Though casting directors in orange burettes and suits did make him doubt why he bothered.

A suit and an orange burette. Blaine should have walked back out the second he walked in.

Glancing at his watch, Blaines honey-tea eyes widened and his feet started running him in the general direction of Central Park. Or so he hoped. It would take him five or so minutes to get to Coffee Time from the park, and he didn’t even know how long to actually get to the park first. The time was 12:30.

---
1:34pm and breathing haggard, bowtie slightly skewed, thanking his lucky stars that he actually wore socks that day, Blaine was no longer hopelessly lost. He could see that little coffee shop he was bound to fall in love with right in front of him, and he was trying so hard not to look for the stranger through those windows. But he failed and did it anyway.

He wasn’t there.

Calming his breathing and readjusting his clothes, Blaine steeled himself against hope or disappointment and opened the door. There were bright smiles waiting for him from… Martin and Violet, clearly happy for a customer on an empty day. But there was no tragically beautiful man with perfect hair.

Hot damn.

But it was only 1:36pm so… maybe if Blaine was lucky… Maybe he would walk in, this time in no hurry to leave. Then he would smile at Blaine, and Blaine would invite him to sit with him and they’d talk until they realised they’d forgotten their now cold coffee completely. He would learn his name…

“What can I get you today?”

Blaine jumped, lost in his own wishful thinking. He blushed to himself and mumbled out the same order from yesterday (minus the cookie). He heard a quiet laugh in response, and looked up. As Violet continued to smile to herself Martin had stopped his sweeping completely, eyes flicking between the two of them with a wide and worried stare.

They didn’t look related - Martin with his shockingly black hair and storm grey eyes, Violet with her golden-hazel and milk chocolate brown waves…

He wouldn’t flirt per se but… maybe Blaine could have a little fun.

“Violets a really pretty name you know.”

He wasn’t lying, it was nice name. And he wasn’t flirting either – it was a simple comment. But Martin nearly dropped his broom at Violets brightly innocent reply.

“Thank you! I’ve always liked the colour, before I even knew it was my namesake.”

Blaine raised his eyebrows, following her as she made his coffee.

“You weren’t named after the flower?” Most Violets he could think of were.

Martin stepped a little closer.

“No, actually. It’s my mom’s favourite colour and it was her turn to name the kid so… “

She shrugged and Martin smiled just a little at her, before remembering Blaine and resuming his tense expression. He began to sweep again.

Resisting the urge to chuckle, Blaine nodded and said quietly “I think my parents named me after some long lost dog or something. Apparently I have puppy eyes.”

Violet laughed again, louder this time. She was about to reply when –

“Hey Vi! There’s another customer.”

Blaine could barely keep his laughter in, Martins outburst leaving a blush on his face as he refused to look at Violet and kept sweeping.

Blaines coffee was done at that point, so he grabbed it and left to resume his daydreaming at a table near the back. Passing right by Martin he said, low enough for no one else to hear, “I don’t bat for her team.”

Leaving a startled yet relieved boy behind Blaine walked to the table, missing the quiet exchange that took place at the counter and the perfectly coiffed head looking in his direction.
-

Stop thinking about him Blaine, it’s like mental stalking. Speaking of stalking, what the hell is wrong with you? Don’t lie, we both know why you’re really here. ADMIT IT. You’re here for that musical, insanely attractive, dreamy stranger. It’s creepy Blaine.

Ohmygod I’m mentally stalking and mentally talking to myself. I’m crazy, I’m totally crazy. It’s his fault though. Seriously. He’s the one looking so good, and sounding so nice -

“So. Long lost dog huh?”

Blaine looked up from his coffee, and nearly choked on the delicious substance. Standing right in front of him, an laughing smile on his soft looking lips, was the stranger from the day before. Just as tall and lean and beautiful, but more angelic than tragic up close. The one he was just freaking out over in his head…

Wow, those were some blue eyes.

“Uh – ha yeah. That’s my theory anyway… wait were you-?”

The blue eyed angel nodded with a laugh, gesturing to the chair in front of Blaine. When he nodded, words lost in his embarrassment and wonder, the man sat down and Blaine nearly died because he smelt like heaven sitting right across from him on that little wooden table.

“My names Blaine.”

“Kurt.”

Kurt...

Kurt.

His name was Kurt.

Blaine couldn’t help it, and he grinned – happy and ridiculous like the overly pleased stalker that he was. He looked down and almost missed the answering grin that made his heart flutter madly.

“That was kind of mean back there you know…”

But Kurt was amused and Blaine could tell. And it made butterflies come to life a little his chest. Smiling he replied “Well you never know. It could be the push he needs to tell her how he feels.”

The beautiful no- longer- stranger called Kurt cocked his eyebrow at him, which Blaine found impressive. He’d never mastered the art of one eyebrow raising…

“And how do you know he feels?”

Blaine smiled a little bit, trying to stop his hands from shaking like his knees were, and pointed at the young man in question. He was glancing at Violet, who was glancing back when he turned away, humming to himself and smiling nervously. Kurt and Blaine watched together, hopefully discreetly. But Blaine couldn’t help feeling that he’d rather watch this new acquaintance… maybe friend.

But anyway.

“That’s how I know. “

Nodding Kurt looks up at him through his lashes, searching for something with his brilliant eyes.
“He doesn’t seem to hate you anymore though.”

Blaine takes a quick sip of his coffee, holding a split second debate in his head - to tell or not to tell…?

“Well I sort of felt bad for him, and told him the truth.”

An inquisitive look taking over his features, Kurt seemed to hold back for a tiny moment before asking “What truth is that?”

“That I’m not exactly into girls.”

And there it was, it was out in the open and though Blaine was pretty sure he was also not that sure and maybe if he just kept drinking –

“Oh, right. Me neither.”

Wow well then. Well then. So Blaine was right and therefore inexplicably relieved, because he already liked this guy and he did not want another incident like the one at the Gap. Which speaking of, he still hadn’t stepped foot in another one since and god it was just so embarrassing…

“Are you okay?”

Startled momentarily Blaine looked up into worried eyes the colour of the ocean in summer, and was taken aback by how compassionate they seemed to be… for someone Kurt had known all of ten minutes. It was like an untouchable connection, in that second when their eyes locked. And it didn’t matter that they didn’t know each other, not really. Because that could change and locking eyes with this brand new blue was just something lovely.

“I’m… I’m fine.”

Kurt smiled, small and true, and suddenly any lingering awkward was just gone and Blaine found himself wanting to tell him. Wanting to tell this guy everything…

But for now he’d just settle for one humiliating memory.

“I was just remembering something painfully embarrassing. “

Kurt settled into his chair, sipping his coffee before responding.

“Do tell.”

Taking a deep breath, Blaine readied himself for reliving the horror of it all out loud.

“Well there was this guy, and he worked at this small town Gap…”
-
It didn’t take long for Kurts eyes to be filled with a tear or two of laughter - desperately trying not to laugh outright as Blaine mimicked his own facial expressions during that fateful performance, and failing. The more he reacted the better Blaine retold his story, spurred on by the adorable crinkle of Kurts nose and the precious smile lines by his catlike eyes.

Kurt was entrancing and Blaine loved the way he laughed and those dimples weren’t helping his blissful puppy expression...

“In the end I just bought the socks and left. He turned me down outright, and I was just standing there with these winter socks in my hand mumbling to myself until some old lady told me to get off her lawn. Which was ridiculous because I was at the bus stop!”

Kurt shook his head, still grinning with his face flushed. His voice was breathy and relaxed when he next spoke.
“Wait where was this ‘small town Gap’ anyway?”

Coffee finished in his hands Blaine looked right at Kurt, feeling no regret at all over having shared something so embarrassing… it was a new feeling and he was still basking in its glow.

“Westerville, Ohio.”

He wasn’t quite prepared for the shock on Kurts face, and felt his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“I used to go to that Gap! All the time my senior year! I wasn’t actually living in Westerville though, I was in Lima.”

Blaines stomach dropped to his feet.

“Seriously?! Are you kidding?!”

“I know, it’s crazy!”

“And we never ran into each other… wow.”

They shook their heads in perfect synchronisation, and both blushed. It was difficult to believe they were two hours apart for so long, only meeting years later in New York City in a small timeless coffee shop next to a plush owl.

Suddenly Kurts face fell back into shock and almost bursting asked “What was the name of that guy, from the Gap?”
It took him a moment, confused and a little unprepared for the speed of the question.

“Uh – Um… Jeremiah.”

Kurts smooth looking hand flew to his mouth as his jaw dropped open, and those tell tail smile lines returned.

“Ohmygod.”

“Wha-“

But he was shushed by the raising of a palm, and Kurt grinned at him almost coyly as he grabbed a pen from his coat pocket and rushed something onto a napkin.

“That, Blaine, is a story for another time.”

And with that he was standing up, waving goodbye and leaving Coffee Time and Blaine still in his chair.

Blaine was stunned. But all the same his hand snatched up the napkin with a name and number written in elegant cursive.

Kurt Hummel…

He was looking forward to hearing that story.