The coffee is too strong, it looks too dark and smells too bitter, Blaine didn't even out the mixture onto the measuring scoop before dumping it into the filter, and he didn't let the milk steam for long enough or stir the finished product correctly in the mug, one way and then the other, like Kurt likes it. He knows and yet unusually and uncharacteristically for him doesn't care, and he completely bypasses the chocolate chip cookies on the way out of the kitchen, if Kurt wants them so bad, then he can come and get them himself.

Blaine's being petulant and immature, he knows this too, but he can't quite find it in himself to stop, or to care. It's been four days. Four days since the movie premier, four days since Kurt opened himself up a little bit more to Blaine, knocked him speechless and then proceeded to lock himself in his bedroom and refuse to talk to him any further about what happened and what was said that night, in true Kurt fashion of course. And honestly it's all growing a little tiresome for Blaine. Could he honestly say that he was expecting anything different? Could his heart be foolishly trying to win over his head?

Blaine promised himself that he wouldn't let Kurt continue like this, wouldn't let him handle his issues this way, the conversation wasn't, isn't over but he doesn't know how else to get through to Kurt without pushing the boundaries and knocking them out of place altogether completely.

He knows that it's different now, that whatever it is they're up to, is now slightly more than casual, and that the mystery and puzzle of one Kurt Hummel is slowly starting to unravel and piece together, and Blaine had vowed to allow time for it all to work out. But he's just having one of those days, he cares about Kurt completely, undoubtedly, wholly, and he had thought vice versa. But right now he can't see the caring side of Kurt that he knows is there deep down, Kurt is keeping him hanging on, ignoring him, only talking to him in a professional and business like manner, and he must know that it is driving Blaine crazy, yet he's still doing it.

Now it's Wednesday afternoon, they've hardly spoken to each other the past few days, accept for when they've strictly needed to, and the conference meeting in the board room had been less than pleasant, but they managed nonetheless. They hadn't spent a night together in god knows when, and the built up frustration mixed with everything else was becoming achingly unbearable. Santana had called earlier to say that she would be dropping by tonight to do some chores and Blaine is looking forward to that as much as he would be having a mouth full of nails, he just can't shake his mood.

Blaine picks up the coffee mug haphazardly, some of the dark liquid sloshing over the edge and spilling onto the counter top. He leaves the small puddle with a grumble and makes his way back into the office. He can hear Kurt's side of the phone conversation he's currently having as he nears the doorway. Kurt has been making and taking these phone calls regularly all week, ever since word got out about his mysterious new fashion line he's been bombarded with calls and emails, requests and offers for interviews.

Thankfully nothing had came of the spur of the moment comment Kurt had passed to the reporter at the end of the night about that jackass Bret guy, and Blaine hasn't heard of or about him since, which he's thankful for. He doesn't need to add that to his list of concerns also. He thinks that Bret had obviously thought better of trying to stir anything further, is the guy wants to keep whatever career he has then not messing with Kurt Hummel is probably the best way to go about it. 

Blaine has never seen his inbox so full, invitations and freebies, all from people and companies trying to know more, trying to get what they can. His phone has been blowing up too, messages and calls, social media notifications from almost everyone, his family and friends, people he hasn't spoken to in years, all because of the pictures and the cell phone videos that had been uploaded from Saturday night.

Cooper

Wow, look at you out on the flashy carpet with the big leagues, hot stuff!! P.S Next time, get me an invite.

He smirked at that one.

Mom

You look very handsome Blaine. Your father told me to tell you that he looked up the reviews for the movie you went to see and that it doesn't sound like his kind of thing, but as long as you enjoyed yourself. Take care. Mom x

He rolled his eyes at that one.

Unknown

Hey Blaine? Is this still your number? It's Thad, Thad from school. I seen you in a newspaper, looking good dude, your doing well for yourself I see, you wanna get coffee sometime? Text me back when you can.

He deleted that one.

Every other message followed with a similar pattern. He knew how to differentiate the genuine messages from the not so genuine ones. He had taken his brother's advice that he'd given him during their heart to heart out on the beach in LA, and had gotten back in touch with some of his closest friends from the past, the ones that he knew he could trust. He was enjoying catching up with them, sharing stories and reminiscing, surprised and happy to find that they weren't judgemental or whatever he thought they would be for some reason, just happy to hear from him, and looking forward to a meet up in a few weeks time when everything wasn't so chaotic.  

Cooper

Btw…model? ;)

Oh yeah, that's another thing that he and Kurt really should talk about soon, the fact that Kurt had knowingly dressed him in one of his own, stunning new designs, and then allowed him to parade around in the spotlight, under scrutinising eyes. Yes it had floored him at first, made him speechless and the ache in his chest to spread and thump double time, but now with every passing minute, every irritating comment and message Blaine is becoming less touched with the idea and rapidly more annoyed. It's not that he hasn't considered it, its that Kurt just won't talk to him about it, or anything at all, unless it suits him.

“Yes Blaine is, well he's very-” Blaine stops in the doorway, his hand holding Kurt's coffee mug suspended in midair, as Kurt swings around in his desk chair, his eyes connecting with Blaine's and his words abruptly cut off. Blaine steps forward towards the desk, and lowers the cup as well as his gaze. Kurt continues but lowers his voice. “He's very important to me, he's become somewhat priceless, to um Kurt Hummel enterprizes-no well, I don't know, modelling is not something we have discussed, it's not in his contract- look it was just an off hand jokey comment ok-”

Blaine can hear the rise in Kurt's voice, can tell how frustrated he's growing and is not surprised to hear Kurt end the call moments later with a hurried, “No more comments, thank you for your time.” He sets down the mug and looks back up at Kurt, who is watching him carefully.

“Thank you-”

“You're welcome.”

“You'd think they'd get bored of it by now-”

“You would.”

“Where's your coffee?”

“I didn't want one.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“I'm cutting back-”

“Not about the coffee, are you still not talking to me?”

“We're talking right now Kurt.”

“You know what I mean-”

“You wouldn't talk when I wanted to, so no I don't know what you mean Kurt.” He drops his gaze a little self consciously. He steps back and heads towards the direction of his own office, not even turning back when he calls out, “I'll be in here if you need me, ok.”

He's just sat down at his desk when his name is called from next door, the tone a slight hint of teasing. He bites his lip, swallows a grumble and stands, re-entering Kurt's office to find him sitting there, right where he left with him, with bright sparkling eyes and a mischievous little smirk trying to hide away at the corner of his mouth. “Yes?”

“I need you, you said you'll be there if I need you?”

Blaine clenches his jaw, cocks a hip, pins his hands to his sides, “And? What can I do for you?” He tries to disguise the bite in his tone, but Kurt is just too much right now.

“Where are the cookies?” It almost hurts at how much he has to stop himself from eye rolling, something he'd learnt from Kurt himself.

“Didn't know you wanted them.”

“I always want them.”

“Well we're out, sorry.” Oh grow up Blaine. He swivels on a foot towards the door.

“Blaine-” It's more like and whine and Blaine tries not to crack, tries to look anywhere but Kurt's unfairly handsome face, grinning at him like a naughty kid.

“Are you going to tell me about the fashion line? Am I going to be hounded for modelling shoots?”

“Wh-what?” Kurt looks almost affronted. “No of course not, that was, Blaine that's just-” 

“Can I get back to work now?”  There's a deep sigh and a wrap of knuckles against the desk.

“We'll talk ok, I promise we'll talk, whatever it is that's bugging you, just not now, not yet. And don't worry about the suit, that's the last one I'll ask you to wear.” Blaine's nods and looks up, Kurt's smile has dropped, he looks crestfallen and defeated. Blaine silently and swiftly leaves the room, his heart clenching in his chest at the sight of Kurt, but he's just not in the mood for Kurt's games, not today.

*

Blaine finally logs off of the computer at Six-forty seven, he's waited and procrastinated and pretended to work for as long as he can. Even with the slight fanfare and hysteria and rush of work from the premier on Saturday, the working week has still been relatively slow and boring and Blaine has found himself mostly looking for things to do, making more unnecessary work for himself, which isn't helpful when he's purposefully trying to make himself busy and useful and unavailable.

He'd heard Kurt leave his office a short a while ago, around the time that Santana had shown up, and noisily made her away around the condo, cleaning and making quick work of chores and titbits. He can hear them chattering on from the living area, hearing the clatter of glasses and dishes. He's hungry, tired and irritated and honestly cannot think of anything worse than joining them in there right now. Quietly he exits the office, shutting the light off and clicking the door shut softly, before padding his way over to the elevator and pressing the button to call for it.

“You're going out?” He jumps and turns to find Kurt standing in the doorway, he hadn't even realised that Kurt and Santana had stopped talking, too caught up in his own thoughts and bad mood.

“Um yeah.”

“Are you um-can I come?” Kurt looks at him, his head tilted to the side, Blaine can't quite fathom his expression but it's something close to both helpless and hopeful.

“I um I think I'm just going to go for a walk,” He clears his throat and motions around his head, suddenly feeling guilty and unsure for some reason, “I've um got a head ache, need some fresh air, and some time to clear it.” The elevator arrives and the doors slide open and before Blaine can change his mind or wait for Kurt to try and say something he steps inside and pushes the down button.

He just catches Kurt's lost, pained look in his cloudy eyes before the doors press together with a metal clang and he starts to descend.

*

Blaine's sitting on a bench in Central Park with a half empty cup of cold Chai tea latte and a half eaten Pretzel with random bites and nibbles taken out of all areas of it. The sky is darkening, later in the day than usual, later than what it has been recently, Summer sure is coming around quicker this year, he can feel the trying warmth even in the late spring breeze. He doesn't know how long he's been out, but it feels like hours. There's music playing softly in the distance, live street performers and Blaine closes his eyes, tapping a foot to the beat, he imagines his own guitar in his hands and the music flowing from him, easing his troubles, like only music seems to be able to do.

A group of joggers whip past in a stampede and Blaine quickly moves his outstretched legs out of the way before he causes an accident. A dog meander's its way over to him, clearly ignoring its owner who is shouting its name from over the green. The dog begs politely at his feet, sniffing at his forgotten pretzel with large brown eyes, and Blaine has to smirk at the sight, considering giving up his salted cinnamon treat to somebody who's in a better mood to enjoy it.

He just can't pinpoint what it is, yes he wants Kurt talk to him, and Kurt had said that he would, he knows that Kurt doesn't like to discuss personal things during their work time, but honestly Kurt started this one himself, he's so up and down, changing his mind and his rules so many time's that Blaine doesn't know where to put himself, doesn't know what's right or wrong of him anymore. It's all becoming a too old, too tiring game, the same problems, the same conversations. He's literally given himself a head ache from it all. Briefly, very briefly a feeling washes through him, a thought which makes him question everything he's been working towards, a question that leaves him reeling. Is it all still worth it? Is it too late to back out? 

He dumps his take out cup in the trashcan beside the bench and is just about to give the whimpering dog his snack when somebody sits down beside him, uncomfortably close for a stranger.

“I hope you're not about to give that up to that strange animal, I could just go for a half eaten, stale pretzel round about now.” Blaine smirks just as a sharp whistle sounds out from across the path and the dog runs off to its owner, tail between its legs. It's both relieving and unsettling how just the sound of Kurt's voice can calm Blaine, the pounding in his temples starts to drain along with the feel of the night's air and the rustle of the tree's and the distant sounds of chatter and live music.

He looks up coming face to face with Kurt, who's changed into a dark sweater and jeans and a scarf draped around his shoulders, the park is a little quieter now, and anybody who's out certainly isn't bothered about Kurt's presence, sitting a little too closely to Blaine and looking too damn good, dressed down and casual. Blaine hands the pretzel to Kurt and offers a small smile and shrug of his shoulders. Kurt takes it wordlessly, rips a piece off but doesn't put it in his mouth straight away.

“I um, I was going to call or text you, figured you may not pick up though, I actually was going to follow you out, but Santana stopped me.” Blaine nods, a little surprised at Kurt's confession and watches as Kurt adorably starts to nibble on the small piece of baked bread in his hand, his gaze flicking around the lit park and occasionally landing back on Blaine.

“I just wanted to make sure you were ok, I was um, worried about you. I figured you'd be around here somewhere.”

“You know me well.”

“Of course I do. Are you feeling better, are you ok?” Blaine nods and smiles a little brighter. Kurt nods down at the pretzel, “Was this your dinner?” Blaine shrugs and glances away, Kurt lets out a small snort of a chuckle.

“There's pizza waiting for you, and seasoned potato skins if you want them, Santana ordered them, there's enough to feed a small family for a week, fajita chicken and red peppers, your favourite-” Blaine smiles as Kurt adorably continues to ramble on quietly, Kurt is clearly trying to convey something, he's trying to do something, make up for something. “She's gone now, by the way. The house is empty.” Blaine nods, he's not intentionally ignoring Kurt or being purposely quiet, he's just enjoying this, this easy comfort between them and the way Kurt is so cautiously gentle with him.  

“So what is it that you want to know then, what is it that's upset you so much?” Kurt's voice is so quiet and soft and gentle, sincere, and it's so strange that Kurt is choosing to talk about this here in the middle of an open public space, and not when ever Blaine had tried to bring it up privately. Yet somehow the thought warms him, it sends a spark of hope running through him, that Kurt is actually starting to unravel and is ok and proud with the idea of them, or anything that is to do with them and not hiding behind the walls and doors of their home.

“Honestly? I don't even know anymore.” It's the truth, but he still feels like an ass. “I'm sorry for acting like a kid today, I guess I just needed a time out or something.” Kurt nudges his knee against Blaine's, and leaves it to rest there, Blaine feels warmth spread through him just through the small and simple touch between them, he's breathing easier, feeling normal again. Why does Kurt have such an effect on him.

“You weren't, don't worry I get it, don't apologise you don't need to, I'm sorry I guess, for making you feel all worked up or whatever it is you're feeling.” Blaine smiles at him and shrugs. “So are we good?” Blaine nudges his leg back against Kurt and nods. Kurt starts ripping up the rest of the pretzel and throws the crumbs behind them on a stretch of grass and greenery where a flock of birds are gathered. “So will you tell me what's on your mind, please?” Blaine glances around the park, and blows a breath of steam into the cooling night's air.

“Can we walk? Would you mind?” Kurt is already standing, burying his chin down into his scarf and digging his hands into his pockets, causing his arm to form an outward loop, a perfect, obvious invitation. Blaine takes it knowingly, threading his arm through Kurt's and they begin to walk in step together.

They walk in a comfortable silence for a short while, making their way around one of the winding pathways, Blaine is almost smiling, feeling so relaxed so happy at the easiness between them, walking arm in arm through central park, uncaring, unhurried, it all just feels too right and Blaine is mad at himself for letting his brain lead him down a negative thought track. He looks up as he starts to speak and Kurt focuses on steering them expertly around the park.

“I guess I've just been tired, you're kind of tiring,” He smiles and he knows that Kurt can see it through the corner of his eyes. Kurt laughs and nods, like he's agreeing with Blaine.

“Yeah, sorry about that-”

“But I just can't grow tired of you, I just won't, I can't, you know?” Kurt looks at him then, his eyes so very blue in the highlighted shadows of the park lamps lining the pathways. Blaine swallows, blinking up at him, his voice feels a little too rough, his throat a little too dry. “I know what we talked about, what we agreed, and what I promised you, and I'm not taking any of that back, I'm not, it's just that, it's, you're a lot, you're everything actually, and I love spending time with you, I love working with you and just generally being with you, but you're just a lot, sometimes I just don't know what- oh god I'm sorry, I know I'm not making much sense-”

They stop and huddle to the side as a skater shoots past them suddenly, his skates clipping against the uneven pavement. “Blaine?” His name is hushed into the air between them, Blaine can feel Kurt's breath against his face, smelling sweetly of sugar and pastry glaze, “I allowed that smarmy, pretentious asshole to get the better of me on Saturday night, and I'm sorry for that, I shouldn't have, I should have handled it better and I promise I wont let that happen again, he's just the last person I expected to see, and couldn't deal with the way he was lurking around, it was you he wanted, he was trying to get to me through you.”

They start walking again, Blaine peeks at him curiously. “I didn't care you know that right? I didn't care about him in the slightest, I wasn't interested, I didn't even know what he was talking about, but I could see he was clearly not on your nice list.”

“I know,” Kurt nods as he looks over at him, “I know you weren't paying attention to him, I only wish that I had your nature, your patience and your calm, don't worry we'll never encounter anyone else like him again.”    

“I just want to know more Kurt, you tell me things and then you don't expand, and I just feel so, so lost and confused, and I try not to be, I know it's not my place to feel like that, I don't expect anything from you but if you could just let me in a little-”

“Blaine, I just want you to know, that there is method to my madness, I'm not just all big bucks and big talk-”

“I know that Kurt-”

“I know I'm a lot to take in, but a lot was taken from me, too much, things that I can't get back, things that money cant buy, I've learnt that now, it's taken time but I've learnt, I'm still learning in fact, and I cant help but feel protective and possessive over what's mine, what I've rightly worked for and what I deserve, it's tough for me to talk about it, tough for me to open up, but with you I can, I know that I can but-”

 “Kurt?” Blaine cuts him off, his arm tightening around their hold against each other, to get his attention, Kurt's words are slicing into him, deep and sharp, it all feels like too much, chest thumping and skin prickling and not just because of the dropping temperature of the night air. He wants to hear, he wants Kurt to finish, but he knows what's right and what isn't, he wants Kurt to feel comfortable in telling him and not forced. His head is cleared, he feels better now, he knows that Kurt will tell him anything he wants to know, anything that he should know, he's always known that he can trust Kurt to do that, he just lost himself slightly, too wrapped up in his own head. Suddenly everything seems so small, so childlike, the idiot from Saturday, Kurt's new range, they're all things that will come out, when they're ready to come out. “Let's finish this back at home, ok, let's just go home.” 

They quickly and quietly make their way out of the park, heads ducked down as they separate briefly from their hold on each other and make their way out onto the side walk and across the street towards their block. By the time they get through the main lobby and into the elevator, barely stopping to grunt as politely as possible towards the elderly security guard, hearing him try to mutter something to them but miss it in their rush, Blaine is pushed up against the inner walls, his head colliding with the mirror along the back wall and his moans echoing out deliciously as Kurt attaches his lips to his throat, as the doors slide closed.

“I've missed you Blaine, I've missed you like this, missed the sounds you make for me-” Each word is like a growl, accentuated with a slight nip and soft wet suck of soft lips.

Blaine knows that he should stop this, that he should put some space between them, let them talk things out some more, before they get to that, but god, this feels too good, Kurt feels too good, this feels too natural, too much like oxygen and earth and solid ground, like home. “K-Kurt, god-”

“I could have you right here, right now, you would let me wouldn't you?” He would, god he would, anything. Blaine's eyes roll back in his head, his hands tightening against Kurt's sides as he draws him closer, god Kurt is unbelievable, he's so-

Kurt cups him over his work slacks that he hadn't changed out of and he's suddenly thankful that he's not wearing something as tight or restricting as denim. “Shit, Kurt-”

“This is our elevator Blaine, our private one, and nobody's here in the condo, nobody's expected to come up-” He trails his lips up Blaine's neck, his jaw, his tongue flicks out and swirls around the lobe of his ear, his words whispering against the sensitive spot beside the nape of his neck, his hand rubbing relentlessly, fingers teasing at the zipper of his fly.

“We could do whatever we wanted in here, up here out of the way, I could do whatever I want to you, you're special to me Blaine, so special, you need to know that, need to know that I will always want you involved, always around, I could hardly stand it when you left earlier-”

“Oh god-” Blaine can feel himself hardening in his pants, he squirms under Kurt's strong hold, barely making sounds as Kurt's tongue teases his skin, it's too much.

The elevator comes to a stop with a small jolt and the doors rumble open, but Kurt makes no effort to move, he pants against Blaine's skin, writhing and rutting against his hip, and Blaine can feel how hard he is growing, how ready and wanting he is. Blaine tries to balance himself and slides his hands up to catch Kurt's, tugging on his wrists.

“Kurt come on, take me upstairs come on-”

Kurt tears his lips away, panting roughly, the sound is wet and slick and entirely too delicious than it should be, and Blaine is almost too far gone already. Kurt's eyes are blown, cheeks pink and hair a little dishevelled, his scarf is already lying in a heap on the floor in the corner of the elevator where Kurt had pulled it off from around his own neck and left it in his haste, it's clearly going to have to just stay there for the time being.

Kurt moves them into the main entrance hall, kissing both hard and fast, and gentle and slow, taking turns, as if he cant decide how he wants it, how he needs it. They pause in the center, Kurt's clearly deliberating whether to take this upstairs or through into the main room, Blaine is actually surprised that Kurt hasn't already dropped to his knees right there and then. Kurt's eyes flicker to the left, and Blaine realises what fabulous idea Kurt has struck up just as his blue eyes sparkle and his lips split into a seductive grin and starts pulling him towards the direction of the office.

And then they hear it, like suddenly the real world around them tunes back in, and the sounds of the television from the living room filters through, its sounds like sports, some kind of a game, there's noises like a ruckus, cheering, heckling and whistling. Kurt scrunches his nose in thought, clearly he hadn't left the TV on before he left, and definitely not a football game.

“Santana? Are you still here? Sam?” They are the only people who have the elevator code, the only people who they can think of who would be here, apart from Carole, but Carole wouldn't come unexpectedly, not like last time, not again. They break apart and Kurt starts walking towards the living area just as they hear a clink of glass against the hardwood floorboard, like a bottle being placed down, followed by heavy foot steps.

And then they spot it, Kurt first and then Blaine quickly afterwards with a soft gasp, a large black overnight bag, with some kind of faded logo on the front underneath the zipper, leaning up against the side wall.

A man appears in the archway between the living room and the main hall, an older man, maybe in his mid forties, with thinning grey hair, a checked shirt and jeans that have probably seen better days, and a cap hanging limply from his hands. Blaine knows who this instantly, he can tell by the familiar glint and shade of his eyes, the look of sheer guilt and un-surety that is pasted on his face accompanied by a faltering grim smile. Blaine knows who this is before he hears Kurt breathe out the small, three lettered word, he suddenly sounds so small, so young, not angry or annoyed or anything close. Blaine can feel the emotion radiating from him, he can sense it all around, the love and the doubt and the guilt between these two men. He suddenly wishes he could be anywhere else.  

“Dad?”

“Hi Kurt. Carole told me how to punch in the pass code for the elevator if you weren't in, fancy huh.” Blaine clears his throat and shifts his balance, he doesn't mean to do it so loudly, to pull focus, but suddenly the man's, Burt's, eyes are on his and he's stepping forwards, a hand held out.

“You're Blaine yes?” Blaine steps forward, meeting his hand and offering a firm shake, he nods.

“Yes Sir and you're Burt?” Burt nods once and steps back, there's an odd twinkle in his eye, and look on his face that Blaine can't quite place. He looks so much like Kurt with that not quite amused, yet not quite frowning expression that it's almost eerie.  

“That's me, good to meet you kid.”

“Oh um yeah, you too Burt.” Blaine does not know what to do or where to look, he's only glad that his hard on seemed to have given up around the hearing seeing the bag time. He gestures to someplace over his shoulder, some place that is not right here. “I'm um, I'm just gonna go and-”

Burt chuckles a bit, “Cutting the intro's a little short there?” That stops him in his tracks.

“Oh well I uh I, I just thought that you and Kurt would want to-”

“Well you thought wrong, it's you I came to see kid-”

“Me?”

“Him?” Kurt's voice is an almost screech, as he steps forward closer towards them, as if he's just remembered that he's still in the room and this situation is definitely happening, for real.

Burt's grin grows, a little crookedly as he scratches the whiskers on his chin, and slaps his cap against his thigh, whilst he starts to back step back into the living area, where the TV continues to play to itself.

“Yup, you Blaine, I seen you two pasted all over the internet together and after what Carole had told me about what a good influence you've been around here, I thought it's time we get better acquainted, you like football?” And with that Burt twists around and strides back towards to the TV, not even looking at Kurt once.

How can the day had gone from bad to worse, to fucking fantastic, to holy shit-oh my god, Blaine will never know.