June 11, 2022

Blaine spends all of Sunday frantically arranging his furniture and unpacking his belongings in an effort to push aside both his nervousness about his first day of work looming on Monday and his ambivalence about the secret hidden behind the still-shut closet door. He harbors an irrational fear that as soon as he opens the closet door again, Kurt will somehow be able to see through the mirror and will think that Blaine is watching him. So he resolutely kept the door shut.

Instead of using the closet, he drapes his pants, shirts and suit coats over every available surface – chairs, dressers, the blanket chest, a coffee table. He hangs a few items from nails in the walls that once held the previous tenant's pictures, his own prints and framed posters still leaning against the walls.

June 12, 2022

Monday is a whirlwind of new and scary and exhilarating and Blaine is bouncing with excitement and anxiety all day. He is overwhelmed with trying to remember the names of almost forty doctors, nurses and support staff, let alone the other music therapists and their patients. He spends half of the day filling out paperwork and getting training on the charting system and the second half shadowing his co-worker Mike on rounds. Exhausted, but happy, he misses his train stop and spends about 20 minutes retracing his path to get back to the apartment.

June 13, 2022

On Tuesday, one of the other therapists calls in sick and Blaine, as the new guy, has to pull a double shift. On the plus side, he has already fallen in love with one of his patients – a young autistic boy who responds immediately to playing simple duets on the piano – and the double shift allows Blaine more time to work with him. Another plus is that Blaine is way too tired that night to dwell on the closet or the clothes strewn across the room. He skips dinner in favor of beer and falls asleep on the couch listening to Roxy Music.

June 14, 2022

By Wednesday morning, Blaine feels settled enough in his routine to risk spending a few minutes at the corner coffee shop in the morning. He sees Kurt there, poised and vibrant and gorgeous in yet another designer outfit, and is on his way to the table to say hello when he realizes that Kurt is not alone. He is sitting with a petite woman who is all sharp angles, crisp clothes and pin straight platinum blonde hair. Blaine strolls past them slowly, hoping to catch some of their conversation. From the snippets he hears – "there should be warm feel to the living area, rich colors but absolutely no purple" – he quickly realizes that Kurt is meeting with a client. Determined to make a better impression on his neighbor, Blaine swallows down his burning desire to interrupt Kurt's meeting just to get those amazing blue-green eyes to focus on him.

He casts a final furtive glance toward Kurt before ordering his coffee to go. Ambling toward the train station, he pauses every few feet to take a sip, stepping into building entryways or pressing himself closer to shop windows to let the more impatient commuters rush by. Blaine's thoughts keep wandering back to his beautiful neighbor and the one-way mirror between their apartments. Each time, Blaine drags his errant mind in any other direction – a song he is working on, a mental grocery list, a new method to try with an elderly patient. In spite of another busy work-day, Blaine's anxiety about the mirror continues to grow. He resigns himself to coming up with a solution on the commute home, just to quiet his mind and allow himself to focus on work. By the time he reaches his apartment door that night, takeout in hand, he has decided he will just buy himself a wardrobe for his clothes, a lock for the closet door, throw the key down the gutter and never think about it again.

June 15, 2022

Blaine wakes up early and after a few minutes of tossing and turning decides to give up and get out of bed. Not interested in starting work early, he plods through his morning routine and buys a newspaper on his way to the coffee shop to pass the time. He is about halfway through an article about peace talks in the Middle East when he hears a familiar, melodious voice say, "Well, hello neighbor." He looks up and sees Kurt, already sitting across from him in the booth. "You're here early today."

Blaine's wide smile is involuntary – there's just something about Kurt that draws him in and makes him feel whole. "Yes, I have another half hour before I need to leave for work, but my body decided to get up early against my will and I couldn't get back to sleep. So here I am," Blaine spreads his arms wide. "What about you? Is this your usual morning coffee time?"

"Yes, I like to get an early start. So I'm usually here in the mornings. It gives me a chance to plan out my day before I have to meet with clients or rush around the city searching for fabrics," Kurt pauses to take a sip of coffee and Blaine smiles at him stupidly, thinking that he will gladly sacrifice thirty minutes of sleep every day if he gets to have coffee with Kurt. They sit in companionable silence for a moment before Kurt says animatedly, "Oh! You mentioned work. How is it going? Tell me all about it."

They spend the next twenty minutes discussing Blaine's most fascinating patients and Kurt's most outrageous clients. They are discussing the upcoming holiday – Kurt plans to return to Ohio to visit family for July 4th while Blaine plans to catch some fireworks and maybe a party with one of his co-workers in Manhattan. Blaine glances down at his phone to check the time. He knows he is going to be late, but cannot tear himself away. Until Kurt brings up the wall paper again and Blaine shoots out of the booth, yelping that he is going to be late.

"Did you seriously not pull off the wall paper yet?" Kurt asks in a teasing voice. "That would have been the first thing I would have done. You realize that I'm going to barge into your apartment and rip it off myself if you haven't done it by the next time I run into you."

"Heh, heh," Blaine forces a laugh. He backs away from the table forcing a smile and saying, "I'll see you later." With that he turns and practically runs out of the shop.

Blaine has mandatory trainings all day. The instruction is slow-paced and most of the information was already covered in his schooling and internship. This gives Blaine's thoughts ample time to wander. And after his encounter with Kurt this morning, there is only one place those thoughts want to go: to a certain one-way mirror in a certain closet. It seems that Kurt is not going to forget about the wall paper and what might be beneath it anytime soon. He needs to come up with a story that's boring and believable about what is actually there to satisfy Kurt's curiosity while discouraging him from wanting to see it for himself. At first he thinks he'll say the wall paper covers a water stain on the wall, but then Kurt might want to investigate to see if there is a leak in the pipes. Maybe he'll just say the paper is hiding a mark in the wall – like someone had gauged a piece out of it while moving furniture. Blaine can cover his side of the mirror with drywall, repaint the closet and then not have to worry about how to explain what is really in the closet if Kurt ever does come over. Blaine spends the next hour half paying attention to the training and half daydreaming about scenarios in which Kurt comes over to his apartment. Most of these scenarios end with clothes strewn across the room and naked limbs twisting together while Kurt moans in ecstasy. Hmmm, maybe I should still get a lock for the closet door, just in case.

Eager to put his plan into place, Blaine asks a co-worker how to get to the closest hardware store. Once there, he realizes that drywall is too big to hide in a bag. What if I run into Kurt in the hallway and he sees it? How am I going to explain why I need that without fueling his damn curiosity?

Kurt did say he would be out of town for July Fourth, so Blaine decides it is safer to wait with the drywall and paint until then. In the meantime, he buys a roll of duct tape, a heavy-duty black tarp, and a doorknob with a deadbolt he can lock with a key from the outside of the door. He also buys a tool bag to hide his other purchases.

Heart pounding, Blaine hurries up the stairs, then creeps as quietly as possible down the hallway, peeking his head around the corner and making sure the hall is empty and his key is at the ready before rushing to open his door. He closes the door and leans against it, catching his breath. I am officially a crazy person, he thinks as he stashes the tool bag with his purchases under his bed. I mean really – do I think that Kurt is going to show up at the door demanding to see the wall paper and then see my tool bag in the hallway and say "Ah-ha! I knew it! You have a one-way mirror into my apartment." But no matter how silly it sounds, hiding the tool bag allows him to start the water boiling for his pasta and flip through the mail he collected on his way back to the apartment.

After two plates of pasta and a bottle of red wine, Blaine feels ready to tackle the closet once more. He just needs to put up the tarp with the duct tape and then he will feel comfortable hanging clothes in the closet without worrying that Kurt can somehow see in. And in two weeks he can put up the drywall and it will be as if the one-way mirror never existed.

Blaine starts to tackle the doorknob first, but soon realizes that putting in the new knob with the lock will require a drill that he doesn't have. Plus that would create some suspicious noise that Kurt might overhear. He decides to wait with the lock and pulls out the tarp.

Blaine contemplates leaving the sheet that is already hanging over the one-way mirror and placing the tarp over it, but he is getting sick of sleeping without a top sheet and would like to avoid having to go shopping for a new one. Telling himself that taking down the sheet and putting up the tarp will only take a few minutes and that Kurt is probably not even home, Blaine peels away the tape.

The sheet drops to the ground and Blaine freezes, breath stuck in his throat. Kurt is right there. He is still wearing his outfit from that morning – close fitted black pants and a black vest over a white button down shirt with the sleeves pushed up over his elbows and an elegant black and white patterned scarf at his neck. Kurt strides purposefully from one end of the living room to another and back again, turning this way and that, looking intently at the furniture. Blaine knows he should look away, close the closet door, cover the window with tarp – something. But he can't look away. Kurt is so elegant, so beautiful, so unguarded. It is a privilege to see him this way – to be able to stare to his heart's content without having to worry about being rude or making Kurt uncomfortable. Of course, he would be incredibly uncomfortable if he knew you are watching him right now, a voice says in the back of Blaine's brain, but it is easily pushed aside in favor of running his eyes up and down Kurt's body hungrily.

Kurt continues to walk from one side of the room to the other with purpose. He slows down in front of a bookcase and stops, one hand across his waist and holding his elbow, with the other hand pointing straight up, a finger resting on his chin. His feet are almost at right angles and his hip is jutting out. He turns and paces again, stopping this time in front of the sofa with the same stance, but his arms in the opposite position. Blaine wonders what he is doing. Suddenly, Kurt's gaze falls on the mirror and Blaine ducks out of sight before he remembers that Kurt can't see him. Kurt spins slowly around the room, a look of concentration on his face. He stops facing something out of Blaine's view and stands still for a few minutes, allowing Blaine to drink in his profile. Suddenly, Kurt springs into action. He dashes about the room moving the furniture first into one arrangement, then another. He grabs decorative vases and bowls and picture frames from the bookshelf and side tables and rearranges them into one configuration after another, rapid-fire. Between each arrangement, Kurt pauses for a moment, spinning around again and giving each piece a critical eye before bursting into action again. Blaine had no idea that so many combinations could come from just a few pieces of furniture and accessories. And all of them look fabulous. After the fifth arrangement, Kurt starts to slow down. His movements are more deliberate and he seems calmer. He walks out of Blaine's sight for a moment and returns with a camera. After snapping a few pictures, Kurt slowly and meticulously pushes all the furniture back to its original arrangement. He also moves each picture and vase and bowl back to its original spot. He pauses for a moment, then quickly switches swaps one vase for a bowl. Other than this one small change, the room looks identical to the way it did before Kurt moved anything. He looks around the room again with a smile, then moves out of Blaine's view again.

When Kurt doesn't return right away, Blaine covers the one-way mirror with the tarp and tapes it in place. He grabs a shirt that is hanging from a nail on the wall and moves it into the closet. When he heads back into the bedroom for more clothes, he glances at the clock and realizes with a start that he was watching Kurt for more than an hour. Oh God – I AM a creeper. What is wrong with me? Maybe I really should lock up that door and throw away the key.

Resigned to never setting foot in his closet again, Blaine is looking up wardrobes for sale on Craigslist when he hears a knock outside. Unsure if it is his door or one of the others on the hallway, Blaine hops up and looks out the peephole. He sees a slightly distorted image of Kurt, his hand raised to knock again. Blaine yells, "Coming" to stop Kurt's knock and swings the door open. Kurt is no longer wearing the scarf and Blaine finds his eyes drawn to the exposed expanse of Kurt's long white neck. "Hi," he manages and forces his eyes upward to meet Kurt's.

"It's not too late to knock, is it?" asks Kurt and Blaine shakes his head no.

"What's going on?" Blaine asks. He is acutely aware that he is holding the door open only a few inches and standing in the opening, blocking Kurt's view into the apartment. He doesn't want to be rude, but at the same time he keeps thinking about the door to the closet. Is it open or closed? He can't remember and he can't risk Kurt seeing the tarp and the duct tape and asking questions.

"Um," Kurt says, grinding the ball of his foot back and forth on the hallway carpet and trying to peer around Blaine into the apartment behind him. "I made some strawberry tart and went a bit overboard. I can't possibly eat all of it. I was wondering if you want some. I could bring it over now – maybe see how your apartment is coming along," his voice trails off when he sees Blaine's panicked face. "Or maybe some other time..."

Blaine is torn. He can't let Kurt in the apartment, but Kurt has taken a step to move their friendship from occasionally seeing each other around to hanging out in each other's apartments. Blaine doesn't want to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Kurt is already starting to turn away, dejected and mumbling something about how he sees that Blaine must be busy. Oh God – he thinks I have some guy in here for a hook-up again.

"Wait!" shouts Blaine, a little too loudly. "I'm not busy at all. I just – I'm a bit embarrassed about the state of my apartment. You know, you want to have the place clean the first time your interior-design-expert friend sees it. But I would love some strawberry tart. Maybe tomorrow night, after I clean up a bit?"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Kurt laughs. "Just come over to my place. If you're not busy that is?"

"No – no. Not busy at all. Thanks." Blaine shuffles out of the apartment and closes the door behind him in one swift motion, blocking Kurt's view, then locks the door and follows Kurt to his apartment. Blaine remembers to toe off his shoes and leave them in the hallway and Kurt smiles gratefully in acknowledgement of the gesture. Blaine's stomach flips and he wonders if there is any minimum amount of time that you need to spend with a person before you can say with certainty that you are in love.

The strawberry tart is delicious and Blaine groans appreciatively. They are sitting in the living room and Blaine keeps glancing at the mirror nervously. He can feel heat creep across his face and his next glance in the mirror confirms that he is blushing. In an effort to distract Kurt from his odd behavior, he blurts out the first thing that comes into his mind. "I see you rearranged some things. I really like it," he says, instantly regretting it when Kurt's eyes widen. After all, Blaine may have spent an hour watching Kurt rearrange furniture, but then he put it all back to exactly the way it was before. Or almost all the way back. Blushing an even deeper shade of red, Blaine gestures toward the vase and bowl that had switched places.

"Oh, no. No. Absolutely not. This is not happening again," Kurt says more to himself than to Blaine.

"Again? What?" Blaine asks as Kurt grabs the plate of half-eaten tart from his hand and gestures at him to stand up. "I'm sorry?" he asks, not sure whether he needs to apologize as Kurt steers him toward the door.

"Yeah – I think we need to stick to having coffee in a public place. I'll see you in the morning." And suddenly Blaine is staring at Kurt's closed door.

When he gets back to his apartment, the slightly opened closet door mocks him. He knows it's wrong, but he can't help watching Kurt for a few minutes as he sits in his living room and stares first at the bowl, then the vase, and then the coffee table, between the two plates of half-eaten tarts. Does Kurt think I was making fun of him?

June 16, 2022

The next day, Blaine waits in the coffee shop for fifteen minutes before Kurt walks in. Kurt doesn't stop to place a coffee order, but walks straight to the table to join Blaine.

"Before you say anything, let me just apologize and say that I know I'm a total spazz," Kurt starts contritely.

"No, I'm sorry," Blaine cuts in. "Whatever I did to offend you, I wish I could take it back."

"No, you really don't need to apologize," says Kurt. "You really didn't do anything. It's just that something you said reminded me of something one of my creepy ex-neighbors said and it set me off. Really, it's not your fault."

"One of your creepy ex-neighbors? How many have you had?" And does that include me?

"Two, I guess. The second one mostly kept propositioning me and didn't really want to take no for an answer. But the first one was really creepy. He was always trying to get me to come over to his apartment to check out one of his 'collections' – I don't even know what he collected, exactly. He would come up with all kinds of pretexts to borrow things, so he had been in my apartment a few times, but I never really invited him to stick around. One time he was borrowing – I don't know, a paring knife or something – and he said something about my furniture looking different, too."

Blaine is feeling a cold horror creep up the back of his neck like ice. When he speaks, his voice sounds distant and hollow to him, like he is floating somewhere above and hearing this conversation between two other people. "That is weird. What did he say?" Blaine asks this, but isn't sure he wants to know the answer.

"Well, it was very similar to what you said. Something about how he liked how I changed things. And I had. I do that a lot. Sometimes I spend hours rearranging all my furniture and décor into different combinations. I usually do it when I'm stressed about something. I know it sounds weird, but it relaxes me. But usually, I put everything back exactly the way it was. Sometimes I change one little thing or another. Anyway, the time he said something, I had put everything back exactly the way it was. At first I thought he was spying on me through the window or something. But then I realized there was no way he could have done that – unless he could scale the building or something. But when I did figure it out, it was even scarier." Kurt pauses dramatically, leaning forward.

Blaine feels a drop of sweat rolling down the back of his neck. It itches and he longs to wipe it away, but he is frozen to the spot. He is waiting for Kurt to tell him he knows about the mirror. Maybe he'll call the police. Maybe – but Kurt was speaking again, "I realized he must be some kind of super obsessive compulsive type. He probably had hairs taped up all over his own apartment to see if anyone had moved anything even an inch. And he could tell that my chair or my sofa was just the slightest bit out of place. It really freaked me out."

Blaine's hands are trembling and he grips his knees under the table trying to still them. Kurt is waiting for a response, so he squeaks out, "Wow."

"Yeah – creepy, huh?" Kurt asks and Blaine nods numbly. "Anyway, when you said that I thought I had moved everything back this time, too. And I thought this was just history repeating itself. I was afraid you might do other things he did, like...well...I don't really want to go into it right now. Let's just say he was creepy."

Kurt leans back, gazing at Blaine fondly and looking perfectly comfortable. Blaine feels like he is missing something. Obviously, this previous neighbor also watched Kurt through the mirror just like Blaine had. So why is Kurt sitting calmly with him in a coffee shop, confiding in him, and not calling the police? Blaine feels like he is going to jump out of his skin. When he can no longer stand the suspense he asks, "So...something changed between last night and now?"

Kurt looks puzzled for a moment before his mouth drops into a comical O. "Oh my gosh! I left out the whole point! Sorry. Anyway, after I kicked you out last night – and I'm so sorry, oh my God – I just sat in my living room for a while thinking about it. Then I finally realized that I took pictures of everything this time. So I pulled up the pictures on my laptop and compared them to the room to see what was different and I saw – "

" – the vase and the bowl," Kurt and Blaine finished together.

Kurt beams at him and continues, "You have a really good eye. I think you're the first person to ever notice one of my smaller changes like that – other than my creepy ex-neighbor, but that was completely different." Kurt beams at him again and Blaine's anxiety melts away.

"Yeah, I uh, noticed right away that something looked different. I didn't think it was possible to make the room look better – but you nailed it. You have a real talent," Blaine gushes. He feels a stab of guilt about his lie of omission, but he is being honest about Kurt's talent.

Kurt smiles to himself and looks down, embarrassed. "Thank you," he says quietly.

"Well, I guess I better head off to work. See you later?"

"At coffee tomorrow, if not before," says Kurt with a grin.

Blaine makes it halfway down the street before he veers into an alley. He dry heaves again and again, but nothing comes up. Slowly he straightens, takes a few deep breaths, and continues to the train station.

When Blaine gets back to his apartment, he shuts the closet door and drags his dresser in front of it. He tries to distract himself with Facebook, a movie on Netflix, a video game. But before his mind catches up, his fingers are typing "Kurt Hummel" "Interior Design" into Google, Linked In and Facebook, pouring again and again over the few pictures of Kurt, some of his sample designs, and his resume. At midnight, he drags the dresser away from the door and peeks through the one-way mirror, but Kurt's apartment is already dark.

June 22, 2022

Blaine spends the week fighting the growing itch to watch Kurt through the window. They continue to get together for coffee every weekday morning and to live their separate lives the rest of the week. But on Thursday night Blaine hears faint music through the wall between their apartments and he presses his ear to the wall, straining to hear better. It sounds like a show tune – perhaps something from Les Misérables? Oh screw being it, Blaine thinks as he shoves the dresser away from the closet door and swings it open. And there is Kurt, standing up close to the mirror, and Blaine can tell he is mouthing the words to Bring Him Home with shining eyes. Blaine stands as close to the mirror as he dares, not daring to move or breathe, trying to hear the faint sounds of Kurt's clear, angelic voice drift through the wall.

As soon as Kurt retreats to his bedroom, Blaine pulls out his headphones and his laptop and searches for every combination of Kurt Hummel and singing that he can think of. He culls through his memories of conversations over coffee and comes up with Lima, Ohio, which is how he finds first McKinley High School and then a Tumblr page dedicated to the alums of McKinley High's Glee Club that seems to be run by a Barbra Streisand look-alike named Rachel. Through this he finds videos of glee club performances from ten and eleven years ago. He watches them all. Then he finds some solo recordings of Rachel, then Kurt, then both of them together. His favorite by far is a show-stopping rendition of 'Not the Boy Next Door' that features Kurt ripping off black tuxedo pants to reveal shiny, tight gold lame pants, singing an impossibly long and high G, sitting on his legs and shimmying his back all the way to the floor, throwing amazing high kicks, and moving his hips in seductive circles. Not the boy next door, indeed. Kurt is hot as hell. Blaine watched it again and again, an embarrassing number of times before he finally drags himself to bed.

The next morning he barely lets Kurt get out a hello before he's inviting him out to sing karaoke on Saturday night. When Kurt declines, Blaine pushes, "But you love to sing, come on!"

Kurt's visage darkens and suddenly his voice is cold is ice. "How do you know that I sing?"

Blaine's smile falters a bit. There is no way to say because I watched you sing Bring Him Home through your mirror and then stalked your singing videos online for hours and have it not sound creepy. He settles on, "We talked about it, remember? You and I were both in our high school glee clubs."

Kurt's expression thaws a bit, but his brow is still furrowed. "We talked about Glee Club? I don't remember that."

"Well, just in passing," amends Blaine. It could be true, even if neither one of them remembers it. They talk about a lot of things over morning coffee.

"You sing?" Kurt asks. And now they are talking about it, and everything is okay, and Blaine can breathe again. But Kurt still declines the invitation to the karaoke bar. "I told you, I'm not interested in dating."

"It's not a date. It would be strictly platonic," Blaine insists. "Besides, why are you so against dating?"

"Long story," says Kurt as he slides out of the booth. "I'm busy tomorrow night. But I'll see you for coffee on Monday."

July 1, 2022

Blaine keeps telling himself that he intends to bury his temptation under layers of drywall and paint at the first opportunity. He tells himself that the problem is that he frequently runs into Kurt when he is going in or out of his door, and Kurt might catch him with a bunch of drywall and ask about it. But he can't seem to go more than two nights before he slides the dresser away from the wall and peaks through the mirror once more. Kurt isn't always in front of his mirror, but sometimes Blaine sees him on the sofa, flipping through Vogue or Interior Design, talking on the phone, or even watching television. One particularly satisfying time, Blaine sees Kurt in his yoga pants and a tank top, stretching and bending in a delicious display. Blaine jumps in the shower and jerk himself roughly under the hot spray after that particular episode of the Kurt Hummel show.

At least Kurt has stopped asking about the wallpaper, seemingly satisfied with Blaine's lie about a marked up wall that he has supposedly already painted over. However, Kurt does keep hinting heavily that he would be happy to help Blaine add some finesse to his decorating. Blaine is running out of excuses for why he won't allow Kurt into his apartment. He loves spending time with Kurt, but he is grateful that Kurt is going out of town next week so he can complete his construction project without worrying about Kurt seeing or hearing something suspicious.

In an effort to prove to himself that his desire to permanently cover the one-way mirror is earnest, Blaine begins writing a list of what he needs to purchase at the hardware store. That night he convinces himself to go into the closet under the pretext of measuring the space to determine how much drywall he needs. Never mind that this task isn't really necessary and that even if it was, he could certainly complete it after Kurt leaves next weekend.

As soon as he opens the closet door, all thoughts of the tape measure in his hand are forgotten. Kurt is mesmerizing, even when all he is doing is carrying the mail over to the coffee table. It doesn't help that he is wearing skin-tight pants today. Blaine finds himself staring at Kurt's pert ass as it is hugged by those oh-so-tight gray pants. And, oh God, now he's bending over the table, ass straining against the pants and pointing straight at Blaine's line of vision as he spreads his mail on the table, finally picking out a large manila envelope that he rips open with a flourish. The envelope contains a spool of gold-hued thread. Kurt disappears into the bedroom. Blaine is just starting to lift up the tarp when Kurt bounds back into view, carrying a bundle of cloth. After a few more trips to and from the bedroom, Kurt has a sewing machine, scissors, and a sketch book. The book is not at the best angle, but from what Blaine can see, Kurt is looking at a pencil drawing of an elaborate suit coat. Did he draw that himself? Does he design and sew his own clothes? God, is there nothing Kurt can't do?

Blaine watches for hours, transfixed as Kurt transforms the bundle of cloth into a stunning suit coat. He is finally startled out of his trance by a phone call from his brother. He puts his earpiece in, mutes his phone and listens to Cooper drone on about his latest audition while he walks around the apartment getting ready for bed. He shuts the closet door, but doesn't bother to put the dresser in front of the door. He gives occasional monosyllabic responses to encourage Cooper in his monologue while he searches Vogue online for men's fashion trends. He could have sworn he saw a similar jacket to Kurt's design in one of the issues last fall. Ah-ha. It was a Vivienne Westwood.

July 2, 2022

"That suit coat is amazing, Kurt. It reminds me a little of this Vivienne Westwood I saw on a Vogue blog last fall, but it's not that exactly. It's even better," Blaine gushes enthusiastically as they walk to the coffee shop.

Kurt beams and asks, "Really, you think it looks like a Vivienne Westwood?"

"A little, but it's better. It's the most incredible piece of clothing I've ever seen. And it fits you so perfectly. Did you get it tailored?"

Blaine realizes he is laying it on a little thick, but Kurt is smiling shyly and looking at the sidewalk as they walk and it makes his heart flutter to know he can make Kurt feel good about his talents. Kurt stays silent, but his smile grows.

"No – you mean – you didn't tailor it yourself, did you? You can do that?" Blaine continues. Kurt looks right at him, smiling widely, eyes wrinkling and two tiny rows of pearly teeth on display. Blaine loves seeing Kurt smile like this. Usually he is careful to smile only with his lips. He says he's embarrassed by how small his teeth are, but Blaine thinks he looks adorable. Kurt still hasn't said anything, but he is clearly pleased with the compliments.

"Where did you get it? I'm not sure if I can afford it, but I might just have to bite the bullet and get something by the same designer. I really love it," Blaine continues.

Kurt is blushing now and says, "Um...well. You might be able to get a discount..."

Blaine stops in the middle of the sidewalk stares at him with an incredulous look. "No way, Kurt. You mean, you made this? Oh my God, you really are perfect!"

Kurt laughs and says, "Stop, stop. You're embarrassing me. I'm not really a designer. I just copy things I like from some of my favorite designers and add some flair and personal style here and there. And you're right on the money. I did base this one on a Vivienne Westwood design from last fall. But seriously, if you really like it I'm sure I could make something for you sometime."

"That would be amazing," Blaine says, his face starting to ache from all the smiling but he doesn't care.

"Oh, I've been meaning to tell you, since you brought this up before. There's a great karaoke place right in the neighborhood. You were right about that. We should totally go. Are you free the Saturday after the Fourth of July weekend?"

Over coffee they talk about their favorite bands and past karaoke experiences. Blaine mentions that he writes his own songs. Kurt says he once auditioned for the New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts, but fell into interior design when that didn't work out. Kurt walks Blaine to the train station and they sing a few bars of Perfect together after Blaine confesses to once having a thing for the cleaned up version of Pink songs.

It takes Blaine all day to come down from the high of spending time with Kurt. That night he lies awake for hours, staring in the direction of the ceiling and wondering if violating Kurt's privacy is worth it if it allows him to say something that makes Kurt happy.

July 5, 2022

Blaine spends July 4th in Manhattan with his friend Mike, a physical therapist at the hospital, and his fiancée Tina. He dutifully follows them to a series of parties that starts with a picnic in Central Park and continues through progressively more heavily alcoholic drinks at three different Upper East Side apartments before ending at a smoky rooftop fireworks watching party where Blaine got stoned and makes out with a tall guy with chestnut hair and blue eyes who is a wonderful kisser, but has the distinct disadvantage of not being Kurt. All the guests spend the night sprawled across couches, pillows and the plush living room rug.

The next day, Blaine finally returns to the hardware store. By the evening, he has the new doorknob with the lock installed on the closet door, all his clothes neatly hung up, sheets of drywall leaning against the back wall behind the clothes, and paint and painting supplies stacked in the corner. Blaine spends most of the next day telling himself that now that he has all the materials in the apartment and the lock on the closet door to keep everything safe from prying eyes, he can actually put up the drywall any time.

On his way home from the grocery story that afternoon, Blaine walks through a temporary flea market set up on the block before his house. When he sees the low wooden bench with the padded seat, he immediately pays the full asking price. He keeps his mind carefully blank as he sets the bench in the closet opposite the one-way mirror.

January 30, 2023

Blaine is sitting on a folding chair in a dim room, watching a community theatre production of The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Blaine greatly prefers musicals and modern plays to Shakespeare, but he is here to support Kurt, who is playing a servant of one of the main characters. Kurt is doing an amazing job. The servant role includes a lot of searing wit and biting commentary and Kurt is playing the role with the perfect amount of pomp and flair. Even when he is just standing off to the side of the stage, he pulls focus. And one advantage to Shakespeare is the plethora of amazing costumes. Kurt's is no exception. He is wearing tight white pants with knee high leather lace-up boots and a flowing peasant shirt tucked in to the pants. The shirt hangs low, revealing a wide swatch of Kurt's toned chest.

The other actors do a fair enough job, but Blaine finds his thoughts wandering when Kurt is not actually on the stage. It is Saturday night – the second performance of the play. He missed opening night because he had to work late on Friday. Of course, Friday would not have been as good a day to see the play anyway because Kurt had the cast party to attend immediately after the curtain closed. Blaine is glad that after this second performance, Kurt has no plans other than to go back home and hang out with his good friend and neighbor in one of their apartments.

During the final curtain call, Blaine jumps up and hoots and cheers and claps wildly as Kurt bows. He has no problem hamming it up and Blaine's over-the-top cheering encourages the entire crowd to increase the volume of their applause and catcalls. Still embodying the servant from the play, Kurt blows a kiss directly at him and Blaine's heart skips a beat. He waits a few minutes to allow the casual viewers to leave before joining the small crowd close to the stage waiting for the actors to emerge. He grips a small bouquet of red and yellow roses behind his back.

When Kurt heads out the stage door, he is still wearing his full costume but has scraped off most of his stage makeup. Blaine presents the bouquet with a flourish and Kurt puts a hand over his heart and gives Blaine a huge smile and a quick hug. "Let me say goodbye to everyone and then we can head home. These are lovely, would you hold them for me for a minute?" he mumbles quickly into Blaine's shoulder, giving back the bouquet temporarily and then he's off, flitting from one actor to the other saying his goodbyes. Blaine leans against the stage content to wait for his friend.

Blaine scrolls through messages on his phone, responding to texts he received yesterday from Mike and Wes. After a few minutes, he looks up and sees that a very tall, broad man with black hair flecked with gray at his temples is speaking animatedly to Kurt, gesturing broadly and leaning in with a broad smile. Kurt's back is to Blaine, but Blaine doesn't need to see Kurt's face to read the telltale tension as his shoulders rise up toward his ears. The man is leaning closer now, eyes running up and down Kurt's body and when his hand brushes Kurt's thigh, Kurt stiffens and starts to back away. The other guy is reaching out a hand toward Kurt's shoulder now and that's the breaking point. Blaine sidles up to Kurt and puts an arm around his waist. "Hey babe," he says to Kurt. Gesturing at the other guy he asks, "Who's your friend?"

Glaring between the two of them, the other guy says, "I was just leaving." As he walks past, he mutters sullenly, "You could have just told me you had a boyfriend."

As soon as the other guy is out of sight, Blaine releases Kurt from the hold around his waist and Kurt puts a few feet of distance between them. "Believe it or not, I was handling that," Kurt says petulantly.

"I don't doubt it," Blaine responds amicably. "I'm just getting hungry and I have some lovely chicken pesto wraps waiting for us in my apartment."

"All right then, good sir. Lead the way," Kurt says with an exaggerated British accent, linking his arm through Blaine's.

"Seriously, though," Blaine begins once they are sitting on the subway car. "That guy was good-looking. Distinguished. Maybe he was coming on a bit strong, but don't you ever think about going out – or even just hooking up?" Blaine certainly hasn't ever seen Kurt bring anyone to his apartment. And he spends most of his time either working, at his apartment or with Blaine. Blaine would know – he watches Kurt through the one-way mirror almost every day.

Kurt stretches his lips into a grimace. "Nah, I'm not interested. You know, I used to believe in soul mates and romance and all that crap. Then I had a few pretty awful quote-unquote relationships, some even worse hook-ups and a bunch of creeps and scumbags throwing themselves at me. All of that kind of soured me to the whole dating thing. And sure, I could just go out and find someone random to have sex, but it just isn't as good when its just bodies moving around and getting each other off. I mean, most of that I can do for myself. And I don't really want to throw myself around."

Blaine struggles to keep his face carefully neutral as he thinks about all the times he's seen Kurt 'doing for himself' in front of his mirror. And boy, does he. Blaine has even tried copying some of Kurt's moves and found them quite enjoyable. And Blaine always pays close attention to what gives Kurt the most pleasure. He hopes someday he will have the chance to use that knowledge if he can ever convince Kurt to move their relationship beyond the boundary of just friends.

However, Blaine does not share Kurt's discipline or chastity. Occasionally he goes out to a club or a bar on his own, usually straight after work, and picks up a stranger. He always goes to their place because he doesn't want a repeat of that first morning after when Kurt caught him saying goodbye to the guy in his boxer shorts in the hallway. He has taken to keeping a supply of condoms and lube in his locker at the hospital for these periodic trysts.

Blaine expects Kurt will disappear into his own apartment to change but Kurt instead follows right behind Blaine, pleading his own hunger. "Chicken pesto is one of my all time favorites."

"I know, that's why I made it for your big second night as a Shakespeare star," says Blaine, pulling out the plates.

They bring their plates to the couch to eat and Kurt entertains Blaine with tales of all the backstage disasters from last night and tonight. They are drinking red wine out of ridiculously large, stem-less glasses that Blaine found at a yard sale last month. Blaine has only had a few sips, but Kurt is already half-way through with his second full glass when he turns suddenly serious.

"You know, if I ever were to date again, it would have to be someone good. Someone I can rely on. Someone I can be friends with," Kurt says out of the blue. Blaine's heart is racing. Blaine is wishing so hard to hear the next words that at first he thinks it is a figment of his imagination when he hears Kurt continue with, "Someone like you – you're so good, so kind." But the words are real and if this were a movie it would be Blaine's cue to capture Kurt's lips with his as the music swells triumphantly in the background.

Instead, Blaine is hit with an intense wave of guilt. This is life, not a movie. Messy, dirty, shameful life. And if this was a movie it would not be a romantic comedy but some sort of twisted porno with me in the peeping-Tom role. He hears the words before he even realizes he is going to say them. "I'm not good or kind."

"What do you mean? Of course you are. You're such a great friend. A great person. And you get me in a way no one else does." Kurt insists, looking into Blaine's eyes intently.

Oh God, Kurt. I think I love you, and I know I want you, and you have no idea how not good I am. I am the utter opposite of a 'great person'. But this time, Blaine says nothing. Instead, he stays completely still, barely even breathing as Kurt continues to gaze deep into his eyes. He lets Kurt lean closer and closer until he can feel Kurt's breath against his lips. Blaine doesn't know what he's praying for harder – for Kurt to just close the distance and press his heavenly lips to Blaine's or for the earth to open and swallow him up to burn in a special hell reserved for lying, cheating peeping Tom neighbors like him. Forget hell, I choose heaven. Blaine licks his lips and leans forward, mouth slightly open and hand snaking into Kurt's hair to draw him closer. Blaine's hand in his hair breaks the trance and Kurt jumps up, nearly slamming his chest into Blaine's face in his haste to reach his feet. In two strides he is at the door.

"I'm drunk and stupid – just ignore me. Thanks for dinner," he calls as he throws the door open. Just as suddenly, the door closes behind him and he's gone.

Fuck, Blaine thinks stupidly and rubs first at his face and then at his hair, wondering what he did wrong. Then begins his nightly ritual of debating with himself about right and wrong, but it's not long before he fishes the key out of his desk drawer and unlocks the closet, leaving the key in the lock in case Kurt comes back and knocks at the front door. He knows he's weak, but he can't help it. He is an addict and watching Kurt is his drug.

Kurt is standing in front of the mirror, watching himself with smoky eyes as he slowly and deliberately pulls the peasant shirt up and over his head, revealing his pale, toned stomach inch by inch. Knowing he was in for a good show, Blaine settles onto the bench to watch.

Kurt runs his hands up and down his sides, stretching languidly and alternately flexing his pecs and his biceps. He sticks a finger from each hand into his mouth and sucks obscenely for a moment before tracing back down to his nipples, leaving wet trails on his skin as his nipples harden. Blaine feels the blood rush to his cock as he imagines tracing that same path from neck to chest to nipples with his mouth, flecking a nipple with his tongue. He palms his hard cock and thinks about Kurt's luscious mouth stretched around his fingers sucking them in and making them wet before moving down to envelop his aching cock.

Kurt's lips are moving – he's murmuring words and Blaine can't quite hear them through the wall. He wishes he could read lips, but soon gives up trying. As much as he would love to hear Kurt, he also enjoys supplying the words from his own imagination. Mmmm, feels so good. Touch me, stroke me. That's it. Oh, God, Blaine. I want you so bad.

Kurt turns his ass to the mirror and looks over his shoulder mouth open and still talking as he bends over deliberately, sticking his ass out and rubs a cheek with each hand through the white pants. Come on, baby. Put your hands on me. Wrap your body around me. I want to feel you all over.

Then Kurt is stretching a bit too far and he stumbles forward a bit, pulling open a drawer in the side table and reaching in his hand, feeling around before he pulls out a dark blue cylinder. Blaine's eyes widen and he presses a palm against his hard cock and gasps as he realizes what exactly is in Kurt's hand. Oh my God – I sat right there in that living room next to that drawer and I had no idea that was in there... Blaine thinks, but all thoughts stop when Kurt opens his mouth wide and plunges the blue dildo in and out swiftly, pausing to suck hard at the tip. Kurt faces the mirror now and licks a stripe up and down the dildo, eyes looking up and meeting his own in the mirror. He smiles around the dildo before sucking it in deep, hollowing out his cheeks and closing his eyes in pleasure before opening them again. Blaine unzips his pants and fishes out his cock, matching the speed of his strokes to the speed Kurt uses to pump the dildo in and out of his stretched lips – tantalizing slowly, then a few fast pumps, then slow again. Blaine's mouth is watering and he takes the opportunity to lick his hand thoroughly, sighing at the smoother slide when he wraps his hand around his throbbing dick once more.

Still sucking obscenely on the dildo, Kurt strides out of view and is gone for long moments. Blaine's hand on his dick stills and he pleads silently, Come back, come back, come back, come back – Yes! Kurt is back in the room with a bundled towel in his arms. The blue dildo is still protruding from his lips as he sucks on it lightly, absently as he bends over to unlace his tall, tight boots. Kurt drops the dildo onto the towel and sits down to pull off the boots. In one swift motion he stands, unzips, and shimmies out of the pants, his half hard cock springing free. He wasn't wearing any underwear. He was sitting here with me, leaning in, about to kiss me, and he wasn't wearing underwear. Blaine's dick twitches at the thought and Blaine licks his palm again before gripping his length and squeezing it lightly, gently as he drinks in the site of Kurt's swiftly growing erection.

Then Kurt is dragging the side table with the drawers closer to the mirror and laying the towel on the rug beside it and Blaine wonders for a moment if Kurt has switched from secret porn star to neurotic furniture mover. But then Kurt produces another dildo from the folds of the towel and is securing it to the side of the table. This one is larger and flesh-colored, with a shape that more closely resembles a dick. Kurt positions it so it points straight out at the height of his mouth as he positions himself on hands and knees at an angle to the mirror. Kurt's tongue darts out and he gives the dildo an experimental lick. It bobs a bit but holds fast to the side of the table. Kurt glances at the mirror, but seems unsatisfied and soon springs to his feet and disappears again. Even though Blaine knows he is coming back this time, it is still torturous to wait and wonder what Kurt may have found wanting and what he would bring with him when he returns. Blaine almost laughs out loud as he pictures Kurt leaving and returning an unending series of ever larger dildos.

But when Kurt returns, arms straining under the weight of a free-standing vanity mirror, Blaine dick twitches again in anticipation. Kurt sets the mirror on the coffee table and angles it downward. This time when he positions himself on his hands and knees on the towel, Kurt is facing the vanity mirror with a perfect view of his ass reflected in the mirror on the wall.

Kurt stretches his mouth wide around the larger dildo, looking up to meet his own eyes in the vanity mirror. His gaze shifts to a higher spot on the vanity mirror and now he is watching his ass in the mirror behind him. Still licking and sucking at the suspended dildo like a starving man, Kurt shuffles his legs wider apart and grabs the bottle of lube from the towel beneath him. Blaine notices the blue dildo on the towel and his balls tighten in anticipation as he imagines what Kurt might do with both dildos at once.

Kurt spreads his legs further and arches his back, rubbing his ass up and down against his outstretched fingers that are dripping with lube. He releases the dildo from his mouth for a moment to throw his head back and groan as two fingers breaches his entrance. Opening his mouth to the dildo in front of him again, Kurt rocks back and forth, lips stretching and sucking over the dildo in front of him and his asshole stretching around his fingers behind him. His balls and rock hard cock swing back and forth as he fucks himself between the flesh-colored dildo and his fingers.

With the angle of the two mirrors, Blaine can see everything and it is glorious. His hand is flying up and down his own aching cock, a little dry and sore now, but Blaine doesn't want to stop for more saliva or to search for his own lube.

Never pausing in his sucking and licking and moaning around the flesh-colored dildo, Kurt pulls his fingers out of his hole and coats the blue dildo generously with lube. Eyes flicking between his mouth and his ass, Kurt watches himself suck on the one dildo while slowly pumping the other in and out of his ass. Blaine can hear Kurt's muffled moans and groans faintly through the wall. He leans down and spits over his hand and cock and nearly cries out from the relief and he thumbs over the head and mixes the saliva with his pre-cum for a smoother slide.

Kurt is holding his hand still now, slamming his body furiously forward and back as he chases his pleasure. Straining to shift his weight back on his knees, he lifts his other hand to the dildo in front of his and gives both his hand and the dildo broad licks, pumping the other dildo in and out of his ass. Then the hand behind him stills again and he's straining backwards, weight on his knees, jerking his body back and forth between the two dildos. Kurt closes his hand over his cock and throws his head back and screams in a wordless shout as his body spasms and cum shoots into the towel below him.

Blaine grips his dick hard and points it right at Kurt's twitching hole. He pumps twice more before he stills and his cum splatters onto the window in front of him, dripping down and obscuring his view of Kurt's naked body lying facedown, spent on the rug, legs spread wide and blue dildo still protruding from between his stretched cheeks. Blaine leans against the wall of his closet, panting and wondering whether he needs a special cleaner to avoid damaging the one-way mirror glass.

Blaine waits until Kurt peels himself from the floor and stumbles in the direction of the bedroom before attempting any cleaning. A quick Google search reveals nothing useful, so he scrubs gently at the surface with a soapy washcloth. After that he shuts the closet door and spends the next forty-five minutes inventing excuses to get himself into Kurt's apartment so he can check the mirror and make sure that Kurt still can't see through his side of it. He spends another twenty minutes wondering just how bad it will be in that special part of hell that he just knows is reserved for him. Yes, I am the utter opposite of a great person, Blaine thinks again just before he drifts off to sleep.