April 23, 2012, 2:54 p.m.
Possibly, Maybe I'm Falling For You: Stranger With Magic Eyes
T - Words: 1,533 - Last Updated: Apr 23, 2012 Story: Closed - Chapters: 1/? - Created: Apr 23, 2012 - Updated: Apr 23, 2012 428 0 0 0 0
It had been a long day. Blaine wandered aimlessly through the streets of New York, desperate for a pick me up. The Warblers were crazy in high school? Crazy didn't even begin to describe them as grown men. They really needed to get jobs, or girlfriends, l a contract with the circus, anything, really. Out of the corner of his eye, Blaine spotted a small coffee shop nestled next to a music shop. Perfect. Blaine checked his watch. 9:26. He had time. It was on the way home, and Blaine was dying to get some caffiene in his system.
The bell dinged as Blaine pushed open the door. He was immediately greeted by the smell of warm coffee and freshly baked cookies. "I could get used to this." thought Blaine. "Maybe I'll come back. If the coffe's good." As soon as he got to the counter, Blaine wasted no time in ordering a medium drip and, just for the hell of it, a chocolate chip cookie.
"That will be $5.84" said the barista with a smile.
Blaine reached for his wallet. Not there. He checked all of his other pockets. Nothing. Where could it...
Shit.
He'd always known Jeff to be an insufferable kleptomaniac, but his wallet? Really?
"I uh... ya see..."
"Allow me."
Blaine turned to see where the voice had come from, and found himself daring into the most beautiful pair of eyes he'd ever seen. Blue? Green? There was a word for them, damn, what was it...
"Oh. Um you really don't have to-"
"I insist." said the stranger with a small smile. He handed the barista a $20. "And a nonfat mocha for me."
"I uh... thanks." mumbled Blaine sheepishly.
"No problem. Hey, wanna sit down?"
As soon as Blaine realized that Stranger With Magic Eyes was talking to him, he nodded. "Sure, I guess." God, what was wrong with him? His brain chose NOW to make him sound like a total idiot?
"Great. I'm Kurt, by the way. Kurt Hummel."
"Blaine Anderson. Nice to meet you!" Blaine extended his hand and Kurt shook it. Wow. How were his hands that soft?
Blaine tore his eyes away from Kurts to take in the rest of the man. A bit taller than Blaine, chestnut hair perfectly coiffed upon his pale, unblemished face. Kurt was wearing an olive green trench coat, deep gray skinny jeans and black knee high boots. Where was this guy even from? Heaven?
"I see a table back there." was all that Blaine managed to say. At least it was better than "I know we just met about 30 seconds ago, but you are the most amazing person I've ever seen!" Um, no.
"Awesome. Ooh, coffee's ready!" Kurt said with a squeal. He handed Blaine his cup and the little bag containing his cookie.
"Thanks. So, uh, do you come here often?"
Kurt nodded. "Three times a week."
"Really? Why?" Blaine asked, raising the cup to his lips. Oh, DAMN. This was why!
Kurt giggled at the look of pure amazement on Blaine's face as he took another welcoming sip of his coffee. "I think you just found your answer."
"Mmmmh. Sorry. This is just so amazing!"
"I know. It's the best coffee I've ever had, besides this one place back home in Ohio."
Blaine nearly choked on his drink. "Ohio?"
Kurt nodded, a glum look on his face. "Yup. Lima, to be exact."
"Small world! I'm from Westerville."
Kurts eyebrows shot up. "Wait, don't tell me. You're a Dalton boy, aren't you?" he said with a smirk.
Blaine smiled. "That's always the assumption, and in my case, you are correct. And before you ask, yes, I do still have the blazer. It's my best friend and I would never throw it away for anything! Ok, well maybe for a pet narwhal, but other than that, no way!"
Kurt laughed, a beautiful, almost musical sound. "Okay, okay, I won't diss the blazer. Private school always sounded like fun, but, well, money was a little tight around my house in high school. My dad had a heart attack in my junior year, and that set us back quite a bit. Even after my dad married Carole, things were tight. And then when it came time to send me and my stepbrother off to college, there wasn't a whole lot. I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I should probably stop."
Blaine chuckled."It's fine, honestly. I've just never met somebody that would open up that much to a person they met literally 5 minutes ago."
"I'm really sorry. It's just that I feel so different then I did back home! Here I can come out of my shell, and no one really gives a damn because it's New York, right?"
Blaine's response was cut off by the sound of Kurts phone ringing.
"You make me feel like I'm living a Teenage Dream, the way you turn me on..."
Kurt blushed, fumbling through his bag. " Oh my god, I am so sorry- shit what does she want now? I'm really sorry, do you mind-"
"It's fine. Nice ringtone."
Kurt blushed even harder and raised the phone to his ear.
"Hello? Listen, Rach, I'm kinda in the middle of someth- I understand, but- well if it's that damn important to you, just call her! You are the star! Yes, I know I'm a lifesaver. Don't you forget it, either. Ok. See you later. Bye."
Kurt set his phone down on the table. "Oh, shut up!" he said, catching sight of the amused look on Blaine's face.
"So who was thaaaaaaat?"
"Rachel Berry, aka the most irritating person on the face of the earth. Aka up and coming Broadway extroidinaire. Aka my roommate."
"I see. Is she like, you girlfriend or something?" Blaine said with a questioning look.
"Oh God, no. She's been with my stepbrother, Finn Hudson, for almost six years now. Y' see..." Kurt sighed. "Well, I'm gay."
Blaine was a bit shocked. Deep down, he'd been hoping that Kurt was gay, but he thought it was probably too good to be true.
"...oh."
Kurt sighed. "Yeah, it pretty much made my life hell in Lima, but now I'm here! Free to be whoever I w-"
"Me too."
Kurt looked taken aback. "Wh-what?"
"I'm gay too."
"Oh." Kurt relaxed, understanding what Blaine was saying.
"Sory, things often pop out of my mouth before I can actually think. Thanks for that, brain."
Kurt laughed, marveling at Blaine's absolute dorkiness. "It's okay. I'm pretty much the exact same way. I mean, you heard me earlier, just rambling on and on."
"It's ok. I like listening to you ramble." Oh god, did that just come out of his mouth? What was wrong with him today?
"Really?"
"Yeah. It's nice hearing someone talking who is not one of my potentially brain damaged friends."
"Oh, your friends are messed up? Clearly you have not met Noah Puckerman. Or Santana Lopez. And don't even get me started on..."
As Kurt and Blaine launched into a conversation about their strange collections of friends, Blaine found himself surprisingly at ease. He usually was not this comfortable around strangers. The weirdest part was that Kurt didn't really feel like a stranger. Blaine felt like he'd known him for years. As the night wore on, the conversation turned from their friends to high school, and then to show choir, college, family, and Broadway musicals. Blaine learned that Kurt's mom had died when he was eight, his father ended up marrying the mother of the boy he'd once had a huge crush on, how he'd joined the New Directions at William McKinley High School and discovered his passion for performing, how the majority of his sophomore bullies were his best friends by the time he graduated, his acceptance to NYADA, his new life in the Big Apple, and his upcoming audition for Wicked, which they both agreed was one of the best musicals ever written. Blaine hadn't even realized how tired he was until the barista came over to tell them that the shop closed at midnight and that they would have to leave soon.
"Midnight?" Blaine glanced at his watch. 11:48. Had he and Kurt really been talking for that long?
"Fuck. I need to get going before I suffer the wrath of Rachel Berry. Again." Kurt stood up, long-empty coffee cup in hand. "It was very nice to meet you, Blaine Anderson."
"The same to you, Kurt Hummel."
They shook hands, and as Kurt turned to leave, Blaine relegated something.
"Give me your phone."
Kurt reached into his bag and handed the sleek iPhone to Blaine. After a few minutes, Kurt's phone was returned and both men were heading out the door. On his way out, Blaine noticed a bright purple sign on the door.
"OPEN MIC NIGHTS"
"FRIDAYS, 6:30-10"
Open mic night. Hmm.
He pulled out his phone and sent a message to his new friend.
"Any chance u could meet me 4 coffee 2morrow nite?"
A few minutes later as Blaine was entering his apartment, his phone buzzed.
"Wouldn't miss it."
That settled it. He was DEFINITELY going back to that coffee shop again.