He hated lying, especially to his boyfriend. He's stutter his way through, heat creeping up his neck, pupils dilating in fear. Stomach-churning guilt would plague him for hours after the lie. He'd avoid contact until enough time had passed to remove the two from the situation. He prided himself on being a good actor—his West Side Story performance was proof enough—but he was an awful liar.

Which is why after cancelling their third morning coffee date in a row, he shut his phone off, unable to bear the Love you, call me when you can LTT text he would invariably receive moments later. He knew his boyfriend was starting to get worried, especially after the Chandler debacle, but he just couldn't fess up.

He slid the phone into the pocket of his apron and stepped behind the register. Luckily, The Lima Bean till was similar to that of his father's garage, so he caught on to its processes quickly. His proficiency earned him the blessing of not making drinks.

A few early birds ordered their regular drinks—not that he knew they were regulars, today being only his third day—but the cafe was mostly quiet. He gave in to boredom and turned his phone on, heart sinking as he read: I love you more than all the universe has to offer. I'm here for you always. LTT. He was too busy damning himself to all the circles of hell to notice a customer approaching the register. "Hey, can I get a—Kurt?!"

Kurt's head whipped up, knowing that voice anywhere. His boyfriend's shocked expression made his heart jump to his throat for a moment. "I—um—Blaine!" Smooth, Hummel. "I wasn't expecting you to come."

"Obviously." Kurt flinched, and Blaine's eyes softened. "I'm sorry, that was rude. But this is why you've been cancelling on me?" Kurt nodded sheepishly. "Why?"

The older boy held up one finger. "Alison!" he called over his shoulder.

"What?" the assistant manager shouted back from the kitchen.

"I'm taking my break!"

"Your shift just started!"

"Personal emergency!"

A head of red hair poked into the front room. "Personal emergency? Oh hey, Blainers!" Blaine waved. "Go on, take your time. No one's here anyway. You can still have your break."

"Bless your cow." Kurt tore off his apron, stepped around the counter, and grabbed Blaine's hand. He led them to their usual table. He twisted his phone around in his hands, avoiding eye contact with Blaine—and the rest of the world, if he could help it.

"Kurt." He still couldn't lift his eyes. "Kurt, look at me, please?" Blaine's hushed, insistent voice forced Kurt to succumb. The younger boy's eyes were kind and his smile sympathetic. His hand stretched across the table to cover Kurt's fidgety one. "Talk to me. I'm not mad."

"Not sure what to say. I work here now. I was embarrassed, so I lied to you. I'm sorry."

"Why were you embarrassed?"

"Because I'm here? Because instead of packing for college like every other kid my age, I'm making drinks for the same people who tormented me for years. Because this apron is horrible. Because I don't even make minimum wage. Because The Lima Bean is the absolute last place I want to be working."

"Oh Kurt, you're an idiot." Kurt's jaw dropped. "Hey, relax. You're an idiot for being embarrassed about this. The Lima Bean? That's not something to be ashamed of. We spend approximately sixty percent of our time together here. We have our own table. That's pathetic." Kurt laughed a little. "As for me? Kurt, I don't care if you pick up trash on the side of the highway in a sexy orange highlighter vest for the rest of your life. I will always be proud of you." When tears filled Kurt's eyes, Blaine switched tacks to lighten the mood. "Besides, I've always had a sexy barista fantasy." Kurt snorted, startling an elderly man reading the newspaper a few tables over.

"I love you," Kurt laughed. "Even when you say things like that."

"I think you mean 'especially.'"

"Can I get you boys anything?" The boyfriends jumped at Alison's sudden appearance.

"Sorry, Alison, I'll get back to work."

"Everything worked out here?"

"Yeah." Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand."

"Excellent. Can't have Klaine out of whack. Whole universe'll implode."

"Klaine?" Kurt mouthed. Blaine shrugged.

"Come on." Alison yanked Kurt to his feet unceremoniously, shouting, "And no free drinks for the boyfriend!" over her shoulder as she ushered him back to his work station. "Unless he's being unbearably adorable."

"Aren't I always?"

"Can it, hobbit."

"By the way," the ginger whispered into Kurt's ear, "if you want sexy times behind—or on—the counter, just make sure you're closing." She cackled and danced away as Kurt squawked indignantly, leaving him to stammer an explanation to his very confused boyfriend.