He had broken the news to Rachel and while she was disappointed, sad, mad, guilty and terribly angry at Kurt... okay, he sucked. He knew it hadn't been the nicest things he had ever done but he was sure they would work things out. At least they were both in Brooklyn, even if Bushwick and Cobble Hill –"My bad," Jeff had said, which didn't really matter at all for Kurt because Cobble Hill and Brooklyn Heights were practically right next to each other- weren't that close. They were still going to NYADA together a few months from now, he wished.

He hadn't talked to his new roommate yet, Jeff had done all the arrangements. Kurt felt weird about not even knowing the name of this guy, and he had meant to email him or something, but with the rush of all the final details and things he had to do and buy and pack and people he had to call and see, he had completely forgotten and he just hadn't find the time to do so.

He did have the address though, of course, and since they were landing at the La Guardia airport and Rachel, Finn and him were going basically the same way, he expected not to feel half as lost as he is now. Taxi, he assumed –and hoped, as much as he looked forward to riding the subway in the city, they weren't exactly acquainted with Brooklyn and they had more than enough luggage with them.

He had been particularly emotional towards his father these past few days, towards Carol, too. He loved her and didn't know where they'd be if it weren't for her and Finn, thanks to them both he now felt he had a family more than ever since her mother had passed. Granted, he didn't remember much of her but it still ached to think of the little boy who needed his mom only to find his inexperienced dad who sometimes just seemed to try too hard, that was until they both clicked someplace down along the way –especially after Kurt had opened himself up to his dad, and told him the truth about who he really was- and started feeling like a family again; only the two of them, tiny and somewhat broken, but a family nonetheless.

And now, the four of them were happier than they had been in a long time and Kurt was relieved and forever grateful to what would've been a completely incest crush on his stepbrother, since that was the reason Carol and Burt had met to begin with; him and his ridiculous, awkward effort to drag Finn and himself closer.

He shook his head against the pillow, lying on his bed and trying not to freak out about the flight tomorrow and the luggage and recalling all the things he had done that week and praying to a God he didn't believe in that he hadn't or wouldn't forget anything of importance tomorrow in the middle of the airport at Columbus. But no. Everything was going to be perfect and exciting and bumpy but totally worthy. Kurt had grown to embrace mistakes as life lessons and even to revel in humanity and the imperfection of it. It was something that he sometimes thought about and made him ache because he was just bursting with passion and the need to learn, to explore and create and grow and know and meet and shine and just to be.

Because he was Kurt freaking Hummel and he was amazing. Flawed, but amazing.
----------
It was raining harder than he had ever seen when they landed. The flight had been amazing, Kurt had even managed a little sleep even though planes weren't his favorite thing in the world, but the flatness of the sky that day had lulled him to a quiet slumber.

Only that flatness had drastically turned around when there were ten minutes left to the flight and the bumps the clammy clouds caused had turned Finn an unpleasant shade of yellowish white.

"Dude, that was sick," Finn smiled faintly.

"Yeah, let's just try for you not to be sick, Finn," Kurt twisted his mouth with disgust, pushing him in the cab door, while he supervised Rachel point at their bags as the driver loaded them in the trunk.

"To Halsey Street and Ralph Avenue, please," Rachel chipped to the man, who politely nodded at her. She spent most of the trip trying to still be mad at Kurt, but eventually gave slightly in to the thought of them not living together while being in the same city, the city of their dreams.

"I am going to miss you, you know?" Rachel whispered dramatically, blinking.

"I know, Rachel," Kurt rolled his eyes and bumped shoulders with her, sweetly, making her look up. "We still live somewhat near, I'll be dropping by all the time and I'm sure me and my roommate will have you both over in a few days when we get accustomed to each other," he quipped, looking ahead.

A few minutes later, Kurt was watching, with a knot in his stomach, the numbers next to the dollar sign go up and up and up and up. Biting his lip and finding himself about to bite his nails –which he took as the last straw- he asked the driver to pull off.

"I'm sorry, can you ask me how to go to..." he tucked his phone out of his pocket to look at the address. "Union and Hoyt Street? It's near Carroll Park," he shrugged, asking more than stating.

"Yeah, you can always take the subway," the beefy man with the growly yet kind voice said.

"Would you mind telling me how or where to? Cause I'm only an nineteen year old coming to live to a new city and I'm not exactly rich and I'm sorry but the fare is driving me nuts," he smiled uneasily, afraid to offend the driver or of giving him too much information. I'm only an nineteen year old coming to a new city I don't know, here's my wallet, see, I only have a couple of hundreds of dollars, who cared and why on Earth had he said those things? He should really buy a brain-to-mouth filter.

Thankfully, the driver only snorted and chuckled before turning to him with an amused look and started giving him directions Kurt concentrated so much on remembering, he thought he probably looked like he was very angry. Or about to become Matilda and move an object with his powers.

Once he paid the remainder of the fare to the man, with what Rachel had given him and a bit of his own money, he took his suitcase and satchel and started walking off to where he had been told. Luckily for him, his coat was water proof and warm, though he did choose to put on the hood, over getting his hair wet and ruined. He got through every gateway and path without a hitch and found himself, exhaling in relief once he was on the actual subway and made sure he was on the right one.

He felt his shoulders slump and held tightly onto his things. If he got mugged or lost something, he would hate himself for a good week.

He kept glancing sideways to the signs and out the window when the subway stopped. He was okay, he was okay, not lost. So far, so good.

Only three stops away from where he had to get off –geez, this place was far from Rachel's- two boys walked in among a bunch of other people and stood close to each other, one of them looking exhausted, the other, just amused.

The wagon started again and Kurt found the constant racket soothing, feeling all nervousness drain from him, and honestly, feeling quite tired himself. He couldn't wait to get to his new apartment, be nice enough for his roommate to genuinely excuse him and lay down wherever he would be sleeping for an hour or too. Whoa, watch out for the wild kid, he kid himself.

"Ugh, I'm still so hungover," he heard one of the guys say. "This sucks," he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"You'll get used to it, babe," the slender guy purred with a silky voice, with a downcast glance at the other one. Kurt sort of snorted, amused at how sexual that guy sounded. Apparently, he wasn't very quiet because the one looked up from his boyfriend –or whatever they were- and Kurt was sure he caught his green eyes rake down and up his body with a glimmer that made him immensely uncomfortable. He didn't wait to see what the guy did because he averted his gaze immediately, trying to play dumb.

"...he always fixes me up with the weirdest people," he heard the exhausted one say, dragging his voice. "I don't even know what to expect anymore," he continued. Kurt frowned. Then they weren't boyfriends... Well, that made the checking out a bit less nerve-racking.

"You can always use me as an excuse if you don't like what you see," the other one raised an eyebrow. "It's not like you didn't already, anyways," he grinned, looming over the other one, who merely chuckled and swatted at his arm.

"Yeah, well, we'll see."

Kurt bit the inside of his cheek not to snort again. He would never understand those sort of relationships.

They exchanged a few more sentences but that was it before little hangover dude and sexual, tall, handsome, intimidating guy left the subway, not before the latter one winked back at Kurt, leaving him speechless and blushing.

Not two minutes had passed before he realized he had missed his stop, he froze and tried to remain calm. After all, he could ask for a map somewhere in the subway station and if he got terribly lost, he would just ask someone on the street.

What he hadn't thought about was the luggage and the –heaven excused his French- fucking rain. Finally, he came across the, by now, after all the asking, two familiar street names on the green signs and looked for the exact address.

The entrance was nice and a classic, just how he had imagined a nice neighborhood in Brooklyn, a couple of stone stairs up to the bottle green wooden door that had a glass window taking over the upper half, far too many flowers on the windowsills of the apartments, now dripping with raindrops, and countless burgundy bricks neatly piled up to form the tall walls that were the fa�ade of the building, parts of it covered with ivy.

Apartment 4G. He rang the cooper bell, hiding beneath the small rooftop over the short staircase. After waiting a few minutes with no reply, he rang again. When five more minutes passed, he settled for waiting a little more. What if this guy was taking a shower or a nap or had a migraine or something and Kurt was disturbing him with the loud, nerve wrecking buzzing? Then it hit him, what if the guy wasn't home? He'd have to wait for who knew how long. Or if Jeff had given him the wrong address, or worse, he was in another neighborhood? He was probably overreacting.

He rang again, this time with no inhibitions, pressed longer and harder. He waited.

No reply.

He was about to dive in for the fourth time when two people approached the door from inside and he could hear the rattle of the keys against the keyhole. He considered and discarded the thought of that being his roommate since he assumed he would've talked through a speaker or something, so he rang again. Only his finger slipped when he saw who was opening the door.

It was none other than the two guys who were on the subway just before. What are the odds, he thought to himself, hoping the tall, awkward –only he was so not awkward at all- one wouldn't notice him pressed against the wall with the ten bells.

"Hey, there."

Only he did. He turned to find both men looking at him. He thought he probably looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Hi," he said quickly and dryly, he wanted this situation to finish already.

"We meet again," he pressed and Kurt thought this way was not only too forward but also too clich�.

"That we do," he replied wanting to instantly slap himself. Not only that sounded more clich�, it also sounded like he was flirting back.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in that sultry, prickly tone. "Back for more?"

Kurt opened his eyes wide, scandalized.

"I beg your pardon?" he almost shrilled. Both the other men, laughed –the shorter one still on the threshold, that Kurt was now noticing, was wearing nothing but pajama shorts and a white tank top and trying to conceal his laughter, as to the other one seemed to be enjoying himself to no end.

"Sebastian, be nice," the one with the curly, dark hair said. "I'm sorry, he's kind of a jerk sometimes—"

"Kind of?" Kurt cut him daintily raising an eyebrow at him, stopping both men on their tracks. They were just staring at him and he suddenly was scared he had offended them. Until the one that was talking cracked a confused, hesitant smile.

"Well, who would say? The kitty talks. The virg—"

"Why are you here?" the short one cut his friend of violently, shooting a dashing, tense smile at Kurt. He eyed suspiciously at them and at how Sebastian was scoffing in his friend's direction.

"I was supposed to meet the guy from 4G," he says, glad to be getting help now. He sees how out the corner of his eye, Sebastian's eyebrows shoot right up with another amused smile and how the short guy –whose name he still doesn't know- looks taken aback and gapes at him.

"Wait, you're... You're Jeff's friend?" he asks. Kurt frowns and catches on quickly.

"Oh, yeah... You're..." he stretches his hand forward to shake the other guy's one, who looks like he's now going to be his new roommate.

"Yeah, I'm—My name is Blaine," he steps again from the door to shake Kurt's hand better.

"Kurt," he nods with a polite smile.

"Woah, hi," he greets again, though they've been talking for five minutes now.

"Hi," Kurt repeats as though Blaine's five years old and doesn't understand many things.

"So, you're Kurt," he says.

If Burt has taught his son anything, is that he ought to be kind, patient, compassionate, honest and moral among many other things, but patience is something he's not having right now, drenched to his bones, with his luggage on his feet, with a predatory hawk staring at him like he's a piece of raw meat and a really slow person.

"Now you're just repeating everything," Kurt says through gritted teeth, trying to sound as amiable as possible. Blaine now forces a tiny smile at Kurt's failed attempt to disguise his edginess as a joke.

"Yeah, well, I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow," he admits in a somewhat defensive tone, which only bothers Kurt more. As though he's stupid and is not up to Blaine's line of thought. "You see," he trails off with a sufficient smile, one that is falsely polite. Something that also annoys the heck out of Kurt; he doesn't need this guy's sympathy. He has to laugh to drain out a bit of his illogical frustration.

"Yeah, well, I'm here now, unless you want me to come back... tomorrow, was it?" he responds, faking confusion and sees Blaine's jaw tighten, congratulating himself.

Suddenly, he hears Sebastian snort, breaking the growing tension. He lets out a "Wow," with an extremely entertained smile.

"I appreciate his guts," he whistles in Blaine's direction, who just clenches his jaw further and growls an "I think you made it clear you appreciate many things about him," at him.

"Please, do come in," he continues, stepping back, no longer with a fake smile in his face, but rather flexing his fists.

"Thank you," Kurt says firmly, walking through the threshold and brushing Blaine's chest with his elbow as he walks past him.

"See you later, ladies," Sebastian bids farewell with a cocky grin as he opens up a black umbrella Kurt didn't see him holding.

When he hears the door shut close, the mellow sound of the still strong going rain shuts off a little too, to a simple murmur.

"Do you need help with your... whatever?" he nods towards the bag in his hand.

"Back where I'm from they call it suitcase."

Kurt bites his tongue. What has gotten into him? Blaine is now being completely nice and he's still stuck in jerk-my-wit's-too-good-for-you mode.

"Shit, sorry," he shakes his head, closing his eyes, but apparently, that's not what's got Blaine puzzled.

"Wait... Why do you have a suitcase with you?" he asks and Kurt feels no longer guilty. He breathes and turns to look at him.

"What?" he asks slowly.

"I say, why are you carrying that suitcase?" he repeats. Kurt blinks unhurriedly, trying to count up to ten –though he just gets to six- when he licks his lips and opens his mouth again.

"Okay, I'm going to assume there's a misunderstanding here because if not, then I really don't know what to think of you," he drones out.

"Yeah, well, clearly, there's a misunderstanding, otherwise you wouldn't be here with what, I can only assume, is your luggage," he gestures to Kurt's bag just as the old elevator arrives.

"Can we take this conversation upstairs?" Kurt smiles tightly. Blaine huffs a laugh, blinks and nods overenthusiastically enough for Kurt to catch the sarcasm in it.

"After you, please," he opens the elevator doors for him and bows, waiting for Kurt to get in, who just chews on the inside of his bottom lip, mustering all of his tolerance and humanity.

"By the way, is may. Not can," Blaine says quietly, staring up at the ceiling of the elevator as they go up, his fingers intertwined in front of his waist. "May we take his conversation upstairs," he corrects him in a whisper and Kurt lowers his gaze, letting out a long sigh through his nose, sensing the corners of Blaine's lips unnoticeably twist upwards.

He hadn't thought this was a possibility.