Honestly though, Kurt mused, he didn’t have much to complain about in his life now. Barely out of college and just shy of 24, Kurt had immediately gone into the fashion world after earning his Bachelor of Fine Arts in Design degree, quickly rising through the ranks and becoming one of the youngest Assistant Fashion Stylists New York had ever seen. Carole and his dad were happy at home in Ohio, calling frequently to talk to him or to invite him to visit. Finn was just finishing college, still weighing his options between football and singing, and the rest of the New Directions were out making names for themselves, shocking people with just how much talent could come out of a tiny school in Lima, Ohio.

Kurt smiled to himself as he walked, reminding himself to invite Rachel and Mercedes to New York soon, when he found himself stopping at the entrance to Central Park, his subconscious remembering that he promised himself to further explore a bit more of the city when he got the chance. He stood there uneasily, eyes flicking from the sidewalk in front of him and the entrance beside him, before he was forced to move closer to the park to avoid being walked over by the busy crowd. He heaved a small sigh and smiled again. A quick walk couldn’t hurt, right? I have all weekend to finish this work, Kurt thought, before turning and walking in.

As he found himself following the semi- familiar paths of Central Park, Kurt felt himself relaxing, slowing his normally brisk walk to better enjoy the sounds coming from further within. There were children laughing, the low drone of small conversations, and rattling of bicycle spokes as the wheels turned on and on, taking the riders to their destination. Kurt’s eyes flitted over the overwhelming expanse of greenery, offset by the small flowers and the fading sunlight filtering through the just- yellowing trees. He was letting out a small sigh of contentment, before his ears caught the strumming of an acoustic guitar. His brow furrowed- street performers, if there were any still out at this time, favored presenting more towards the middle of park, because of the usual population increase there. He adjusted his messenger bag strap as he turned, pace quickening as he sought out the source of the music.

He found it quite easily. A small crowd had gathered around a young man about Kurt’s age fiddling with his guitar, head bent as he tuned it. He was dressed only in long blue jeans and a plain white v-neck with an unbuttoned plaid shirt on top, a pair of sunglasses tucked in the collar, apparently immune to the chilly weather. He appeared to be a regular here, as the few people that were there began pulling loose bills out, readying them to be thrown into the empty open guitar case at the man’s feet. Kurt looked around confusedly before walking up to a dark- skinned man, not much older than him, who appeared to be shuffling and reorganizing the money in his hands.

“What’s going on here?” Kurt asked.

The man slyly smiled back as he answered, “Oh, you’ve never seen him here before?” Kurt nodded hesitantly, and the man’s grin widened. “That there is Blaine Anderson. One of the locals best kept secrets, I suppose. No one really knows what he does for a living or anything, but every now and again he’ll come out to Central Park and play for a bit. I’m guessing it helps him earn some extra bucks; with the amount of people that watch him play I suspect he must make at least a hundred dollars every time.” The man shrugged as he said this part, turning back to the bills in his hand.

Kurt looked on, raising an eyebrow in skepticism, still slightly confused. “But what makes him so special? He can’t be the only guitar player out here.”

The man looked up with a smile again and replied, “He’s not, you’re right. But there’s something about the way he performs. You can tell it means something to him, that it’s not just an easy way to make a couple bucks. You’ll see.” He stuffed the bills into his wallet, which was then placed in the pocket of his long gray coat, and then turned to towards Blaine fully, glancing out of the corner of his eye to Kurt. “He gets really friendly with the crowd too, you know. Always asks someone to sing with him. Not a lot of people want to, they’re too worried about messing up.” He looked at Kurt more fully, “You look like a performer. Do you sing?”

Kurt nodded, a little shocked, wondering what about him made him look like a “performer”, before clarifying. “Nothing big,” he said. “Just a little glee club back in high school, that sort of thing.” He smiled ruefully, remembering the days back in the McKinley choir room.

The man nodded appreciatively. “You should join in, if he asks,” he said.

Kurt just shrugged. “Maybe,” he murmured, more to himself than in response.

Blaine looked up from tuning his guitar, eyes widening as he took in the amount of people gathered around him. “Oh wow hey! What’s going on?” His fingers plucked at the guitar, playing a soft, nonsensical tune, as the people around him responded in soft voices. He smiled at the responses. “So… what do you all feel like hearing today?” He let his smile change into a small smirk as the hushed voices around him grew in volume, the crowd beginning to fire off various requests. Kurt rose an eyebrow at the diversity of the prompts; they varied from Wicked to P!nk, from Disney songs to music from the 60s. Kurt even heard a few titles that sounded like they were originals Blaine had written and performed at one point.

Kurt leaned back against the railing behind him, unconsciously appreciating Blaine’s appearance a little. He was certainly quite handsome, with black curls a little ruffled by the wind and expressive hazel eyes. He had got one of those smiles that seem to light up the room, and he actually looked genuinely happy, which was uncommon for Kurt to see, at least in his line of work.

Kurt turned back to the man from before, asking, “Does he really have that much variety in music?” He watched as Blaine mulled over the choices, nodding his head to himself every now and then. The man nodded, “You’d be surprised,” before calling out, “Katy Perry!” which garnered a few laughs and an eye- roll from Blaine. “I’m David, by the way. David Mathews” the man- David, Kurt supposed- stuck out his hand. Kurt reached out, shaking David’s hand. “Kurt Hummel,” he responded. David looked as though he was about to say something, but was interrupted by Blaine.

“Train! That sounds like a good place to start,” he said, as the tune he’d be playing changed, growing louder and more definite, and he started singing.

Kurt felt his eyes widen as Blaine’s voice sang through the beginning of “Hey Soul Sister.” He imagined the shock must be evident on his face, because David looked over and chuckled at the reaction. Kurt abruptly closed his mouth, shooting a half-hearted glare towards David, who only laughed harder. Ignoring him, Kurt turned his attention back to the performance.

It wasn’t just Blaine’s voice that had Kurt floored. It was everything about him; the way his eyes lit up when he smiled, which he did quite a lot of as he sang. He just seemed so enthusiastically happy, and it was contagious, if the smiles and laughs from the audience were anything to judge by. And he interacted with the crowd quite a bit; grinning at certain people, getting up from where he was leaning to walk around and dance a little with the two little girls who had started swaying and dancing along with the music. At one point in the song he looked over his shoulder and winked at Kurt, to whom Kurt only responded by looking down, heat rising to his cheeks. It was becoming apparent that he hadn’t grown out of his teenager years as much as he had hoped, a fact only solidified when he caught himself running through the typical thoughts a teenager has when someone they liked smiled at them. Oh god, Kurt. Calm down. He’s probably not even gay.

"He plays for your team, you know," said David, interrupting Kurt's thoughts.
Kurt's eyebrows flew up in disbelief, "Excuse me?"

David immediately looked apologetic, "Oh, man, I'm sorry. Are you not gay then? I'm not saying you look gay or anything. It's just, well, I saw the look on your face and thought-," he trailed off, looking down with embarrassment.

“Oh no, no. You're right about that," Kurt quickly calmed his new friend's nerves, while thinking on a side note how nice it was for someone to actually doubt he was gay. "What I'm questioning is how you know he's gay," Kurt gestured to Blaine, who was just finishing "Hey Soul Sister" and started singing "No One" by Alicia Keys, all the while not changing the tune on his guitar.

“We were in glee club together back in high school,” David answered. “I was a year ahead of him and on the council. We always gave him the solos.”

Kurt quirked an eyebrow at the word “council” and laughed, the idea of an orderly, fair glee club amazing him. “A council? In a glee club? What high school did you go to?”

David laughed along before answering. “Dalton Academy, in Ohio. Your typical expensive, prestigious all- boys school.”

“Ohio, you say?” Kurt’s mind prickled in remembrance; he had considered transferring there, later ruling it out when he had heard of the cost. “I’m from there too! Wasn’t your club named after a bird or something?”

David nodded, “The Warblers. We were an acapella group.” He smiled fondly. “Where were you from? Vocal Adrenaline?” His mouth turned down in disgust.

Kurt mirrored his emotion. “Oh god, no. Heaven forbid,” he said, wincing internally as he remembered the events of that first year of glee club. “McKinley, the New Directions,” he offered, smirking. “We beat you at Regionals one year.”

His friend shook his head and laughed, “You remember that far back?”

Kurt shrugged and nodded. “Of course I do. I performed my first competition solo at Sectionals that year.” David’s eyebrows rose, but Kurt didn’t notice. He had turned to watch Blaine more closely again, his mind slowly dredging up memories. The only thing he really remembered about the Warblers was that they were an acapella all-boys group, and that their soloist was very cute. Now that Kurt thought about it, he was surprised he hadn’t recognized Blaine earlier, even a little; he certainly looked familiar enough now.

Blaine had returned to standing behind the empty guitar case, casually leaning against the railing again. One of the little girls he had been dancing with skipped up again and dropped a few bills into the case; Blaine tilted his head toward her and winked, earning a small giggle from the girl. More people began dropping more money into the rapidly- filling case; Kurt could now see how it would be possible for David’s claim of Blaine earning at least a hundred dollars to be plausible.

Kurt opened the flap to his designer bag, pulling out his wallet and riffling through the bills inside. He pulled out a twenty and walked up to Blaine, leaning down to drop the bill into the case. As he raised his eyes flicked up to meet Blaine’s. He gave a small grin, blushing a little as Blaine returned it. He turned to walk back when he heard Blaine stop playing.

“Wait.”

Kurt froze, looking over his shoulder to Blaine again before turning back more fully. The crowd looked on curiously. David stuck his hands in his pocket, raised an eyebrow, and smirked, although it was unclear whether it was intended for Kurt or for Blaine.

“Wait,” Blaine repeated. He seemed to take a deep breath, looking down for a second. “Join me?” he asked, pleading eyes finding Kurt’s again.

Kurt paused, worrying his bottom lip a little. He gave a small nod, murmuring a small, “Okay,” and walking back. Blaine smiled, an action Kurt found himself mirroring.

There was a small silence before people began talking again and Blaine’s fingers began playing the small nonsensical tune again as he thought about song choices again.

“Listen,” Blaine said as he leaned closer to Kurt, “do you know the song ‘All About Us’ by He is We? They’re not a very famous band, so I get it if you aren’t familiar-“ He was cut off by Kurt’s nodding. “Yeah, yeah I know the song,” he said mutedly. He licked his lips in anticipation.

“Great! So, just give me a couple minutes.” Blaine trailed off, looking up as his fingers mimicked the chords and strumming pattern for the song. Kurt spared a glance in David’s direction; his new friend was smirking, certainly looking like he was enjoying himself quite a bit. Kurt glared at him before pulling his phone out, flicking through until he was looking up the lyrics to the song. It never hurt to be prepared.

Kurt started a little when Blaine’s voice interrupted his process. “So, are you ready?” He asked. Kurt looked over the lyrics one last time, nodding as he put his phone away.

Blaine grinned and began strumming. Kurt found himself tapping at his side to the beat, taking a few deep breaths before opening his mouth and starting.

Take my hand, I’ll teach you to dance.
I’ll spin you around, won’t let you fall down.
Would you let me lead, you can step on my feet
Give it a try, it’ll be alright
The room’s hush, hush,
And now’s our moment.
Take it in, feel it all, and hold it.
Eyes on you, eyes on me
We’re doing this right

They’re voices melded together in the pre- chorus, suiting each other’s perfectly. Kurt got up and began walking around in the small semi-circle the crowd formed, Blaine following him as they sang. Almost in time with the lyrics the conversation around them came to a stop as the audience directed their full attention to the performance. They got more bills out but made no move toward the guitar case, afraid of ruining the mood. Blaine and Kurt paid no attention to them anyways, each only finding interest in the song and their partner’s voice and eyes.

Cause lovers dance when they’re feeling in love.
Spotlight shining, it’s all about us.
It’s oh, oh, oh, oh, all about uh, uh, uh, uh, us.
And every heart in the room will melt,
This is a feeling I’ve never felt but,
It’s oh, oh, all about us.

Kurt continued moving in the pseudo-dance fashion he had adopted, Blaine following him as he sang the next verse.

Suddenly, I’m feeling brave.
Don’t know what’s got into me,
Why I feel this way.
Can we dance, real slow?
Can I hold you, real close?

Their voices soared together through the pre-chorus and refrain again, and the little girls who had been dancing earlier joined in again, careful to stay out of the couple’s way this time. Kurt and Blaine interchanged lines through the bridge, voices overlapping perfectly until they were singing together through the chorus.

Do you hear that love?
They’re playing our song.
Do you think we’re ready?
Oh I’m really feeling it.
Do you hear that love?
Do you hear that love?
Do you hear that love?
They’re playing our song.
Do you think we’re ready yet?
Love I’m really feeling it.
Do you hear that love?
Do you hear that love?
Do you hear that love?
They’re playing our song.
Do you think we’re ready yet?
Love I’m really feeling it.
Do you hear that love?
Do you hear that love?
Lovers dance when they’re feeling in love.
Spotlight shining, it’s all about us.
It’s all, all, all, all.
Every heart in the room will melt,
This is a feeling I’ve never felt, but
It’s all, all about us.
Cause lovers dance when they’re feeling in love.
Spotlight shining, it’s all about us.
It’s oh, oh, oh, oh, all about uh, uh, uh, uh, us.
(hey-ey hey)
And every heart in the room will melt,
This is a feeling I’ve never felt but,
It’s oh, oh, all,
It’s all about us.

There was a hushed silence when the song came to an end, neither one noticing until the crowd began clapping, people walking up to the guitar case again. Blaine broke first, smiling as he began clapping as well. David cheered as Kurt walked back, eyes unfocused and mind still hazy from what had just occurred.

A smiling David clapped him on the back, “See, Kurt? That was fantastic. Kurt? Kurt?” He shook his shoulder a little.

The man in question snapped back to reality as he tried to form an articulate answer. “Hm? Oh yeah. Thank you, David,” he trailed off. David just rolled his eyes good-naturedly and continued to watch Blaine, who had broken out of his haze and started playing again, although it seemed like he was just going with the motions.

Kurt tried to focus on the rest of the songs, but his mind continued to wander back to his and Blaine’s song. He went on autopilot, clapping and laughing along with the crowd as he wondered what the song had meant. Blaine’s eyes flicked over to his more than once in the performance, and Kurt noticed that no other volunteers were asked for.

Eventually, the sun finally set and it began getting dark quickly. As the lampposts stationed at different parts in the park flickered on and people strode off to do their evening duties, Blaine knelt before the guitar case, lining up the bills in his hands.

David asked for Kurt’s cell number, saying they should meet up sometime. “You know,” he said, shrugging a little, “compare our show choir days. You guys looked dramatic enough on stage; you must have a few good stories.”

Kurt shook his head, “You don’t know the half of it,” he replied, pulling his phone out and swapping with David to enter his number. He was just putting his phone away when David suddenly grabbed his shoulder and began dragging him towards Blaine. “C’mere,” he muttered, “I did not put up with six months of Beatles music for this to come to nothing.” (*) Kurt did nothing but look at him bewilderment, wondering if his friend had lost his mind.

“Blaine!” David called, letting go of Kurt to walk forward. Blaine’s face lit up with a grin as he straightened, meeting David halfway in a hug. “David, man, I knew I saw you today. How have you been?” He turned back down to the case, organizing bills again. Kurt stood awkwardly to the side, wondering if he could leave without either of them noticing.

“Busy, as always. Demanding too,” David grimaced. “But what else can you expect from the law offices. You still have time for singing, I see?”

Blaine nodded. “It’s nice to get away from the high school every now and then. I don’t remember having that much drama at Dalton.” (**) He shook his head, short curls ruffling as a small breeze swept by.

“We were blessed at Dalton. And sheltered,” David said. The two began laughing, and Kurt slowly began inching away, the feeling of awkwardness growing.

He was stopped when David reached effortlessly behind him and pulled on his sleeve. “Speaking of high school,” he said mischievously, tugging Kurt forward, “this is my new friend, Kurt Hummel. Kurt this is my old friend Blaine.”

Kurt’s cheeks reddened and he tugged on his scarf before extending his hand to Blaine. “Pleasure to meet you,” he murmured, looking down, “Thank you for inviting me to sing with you.”

Blaine stared at his hand for a moment before taking it, “Thank you for joining me. You have a beautiful voice.” Blue eyes met hazel again and Kurt blushed deeper, smiling as he muttered a thank you. Their hands held for a moment more before dropping.
David looked pleased with himself before clapping Blaine on the back. He spoke brusquely, “Well man, it was really nice seeing you. We should get coffee soon; it’s been a while. Kurt,” he nodded to the man in question, “it was great meeting you. We should grab lunch sometime or something. Well, I’ve got to run; lots of paperwork to do.” He leaned forward to whisper something to Blaine, causing Blaine to redden furiously, before leaving hastily.

Both Blaine and Kurt stared at David’s quickly retreating back. “Nice guy,” Kurt commented wryly, earning a chuckle from Blaine.

“The best,” Blaine agreed, removing his guitar and laying it in the case, which he then slung onto his shoulders. He quickly began counting the money in his hand when a thought struck Kurt.

“Wait, you work in a high school?” he asked quizzically.

Blaine nodded, “I’m a teacher. Why?” he asked.

Kurt shook his head, waving his hand dismissively, “Oh nothing. David just said that not a lot of people knew what you did for a living, besides playing guitar in the park.”

Blaine laughed. “He said that, did he? It’s true, not many people know; the high school’s a bit far from here, when you think about it. He just likes adding onto the ‘mystery’ of it all, though.” He shook his head at the thought of his friend. “He knows, as well as a few of my other friends from high school and college. And now you, I suppose,” he looked at Kurt.

“Well, your secret’s safe with me,” Kurt replied, smirking. “I feel honored, though.”

Blaine chuckled again. “Well Kurt, if you feel honored from that, how would you feel to joining me for dinner?” he asked. “I know a nice diner nearby, and I’ve got about, say, at least 200, to spend on hand?” he waved the hand holding the money. “Consider it a ‘thank you’ for singing with me today.”

“Well I don’t know,” Kurt sighed dramatically. “Do you treat everyone who sings with you to dinner?” he asked teasingly.

Blaine only leaned forward and whispered in the other man’s ear, “Not everyone. You’re special.” Kurt looked down, trying to hide a smile as Blaine leaned back. “So what do you say?”

Kurt quickly put on a face of feigned disinterest, shrugging, “Well, I suppose a quick bite wouldn’t hurt, especially if you’re paying How far is it? Should I call a cab?”

Blaine shook his head, waving the thought off. “That won’t be necessary. It’s only a few minutes away; you can get there just by walking through Central Park. C’mon, I know a shortcut.” He gave a little jerk of his head, grabbing Kurt’s hand as he began walking.

Kurt’s eyebrows flew up at the sudden contact, but he only said, “Shame, I was looking forward to showing off my cab- hailing skills,” and allowed Blaine to pull him along and enjoying the feel of the other man’s hand in his.

“So wait,” Blaine started a conversation as they walked, “You’re Kurt Hummel? Aren’t you an Assistant Fashion Stylists for that one designer? I read about you in Vogue last month…”

*~*~*

“…And that is why,” Kurt said laughing as the waitress took away their plates, “I do not drink more than two drinks to this day, and I hastily leave the room whenever someone decides to watch Bambi.” Blaine laughed in disbelief.

“David’s right; we were sheltered at Dalton. If I didn’t work in a high school now, I’d never believe you.”

“Was it really that quiet down there?” Kurt asked inquisitively as the waitress came back.

“Will that be all for you two today? Or do you want some dessert or some coffee?”

Blaine looked up, smiling charmingly, “I’ll have a medium drip, please? And for my friend…” he gestured towards Kurt.

“A non- fat mocha?”

The waitress nodded. “Coming right up!”

“So,” Kurt started as she walked away, “What was your worst alcoholic experience, as far a high school goes?”

Blaine thought for a bit, “Well, I never showed up to school hung-over or anything like that, thankfully. I kissed a girl drunk though, at a friend’s party. I thought I was bi for a while, until she kissed me sober.” He frowned at the memory.

“Ah,” Kurt said, leaning back a little as the waitress walked back out with their coffee. He busied himself fixing his coffee while Blaine asked for the check. “You had a phase like that too,” he remarked, raising his cup and taking a sip.

“Well, in my defense, I was drunk,” he said, a little put out. “Hang on,” he said, looking curiously at Kurt, “Too? You went through a phase?”

Kurt shuddered at the memory of Mellencamp and flannel. “That’s a story for another time,” he said, his tone implying that the subject was not to be brought up again. The waitress walked back out with the check, smiling flirtatiously at Blaine as she placed the book in front of him.

Kurt watched as Blaine’s eyes widened after he opened the book. “What is it?” he asked worriedly.

Blaine blushed a little, pulling out the cash and counting out the proper amount, “Ah… It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” he said flustered.

This received a suspicious look from Kurt, who stole the book from Blaine’s grasp. His eyes flitted over the receipt, finding nothing wrong until he reached the bottom, where a telephone number had been scrawled in a pink glittery pen, courtesy of their waitress. He burst out laughing as Blaine covered his face with his hand, clearly embarrassed.

“Does this happen a lot?” Kurt asked through his snickering.

“More than it should,” Blaine said, his voice muffled. “It’s not that funny, you know.”

“No, you’re right,” Kurt said, mock shaking his head, laughter still in his eyes. He looked at Blaine, trying to appear serious. “You brought this upon yourself, you know. If you didn’t pass so easily for straight…”

“It’s not my fault!” Blaine uttered indignantly, looking up for a moment.

Kurt waved him off dismissively, handing the check back to the waitress, who was staring at Blaine. He smiled serenely at her. “My friend would like you to know that he doesn’t play for your team. Sorry,” he said cheerfully, not sounding sorry at all. “Keep the change, though.” The waitress gave him a black look as she took the check. She plastered on a fake smile and said through her teeth, “Thank you. Come again soon!”

Blaine’s face was still covered until she was gone. Kurt looked at him amusedly as they both stood up, gathering their things.

“Shut up, Kurt” Blaine grumbled as they wove around the booths towards the exit.

Kurt gave a little laugh, holding his hands up. “Hey, I didn’t say anything,” he pointed out, still hiding a smile.

Blaine just glared at him, opening the door, “You didn’t need to. Your face said everything.”

Kurt chuckled, adjusting his scarf before he crossed over the threshold, “Well, you have to admit, it’s pretty funny.”

“It would be, if it didn’t happen all the time,” Blaine said darkly. “It’s bad enough where I work. There’s this one TA,” he trailed off, shaking his head as he slung the guitar bag over his shoulder.

Kurt just smiled at him. It was surprisingly quiet outside the restaurant, the sidewalk empty except for a few people walking quickly, eager to be home and out of the wind, and a few cabs driving by.

“Well,” Kurt said, “Thank you for dinner and coffee tonight, Blaine. It was nice meeting you.”

Blaine laughed, running a hand through his dark curls. “It seems odd, doesn’t it?”

“What does?”

“The fact that we only just met today.”

Kurt thought over the events of the day. It did seem a bit amazing, seeing as he felt as though he had known the man next to him for so long. “Yeah, I guess it is,” he said faintly.

“I guess, we’d better be going. It’s getting late,” Blaine sounded reluctant.

Kurt checked his watch, noting that it was already 9:30. “I suppose we should. Are you taking a cab?”

Blaine nodded. “I’m a bit far from where I live. You?”

Kurt checked the street signs. “I think I’ll just walk. I’m not to far from where I live actually.” Blaine looked uncomfortable, sighing a little as he stepped closer to the curb to call a cab. “Do you need help calling a cab?”

Blaine nodded sheepishly. “I don’t often have to take one, and they always scared me a little.”

Kurt rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Watch and learn,” he said breezily, stepping off the curb and into the streets. He stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistle shrilly, waving his free arm out. A cab immediately stopped next to him. He smirked back to Blaine, “You’re welcome. I told you I had awesome cab- hailing skills” he said, gesturing toward the cab as he opened the passenger door. He backed up as Blaine walked forward, putting his guitar case inside.

“Well,” Kurt said sadly, “It was nice meeting you. I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Definitely.”

A few seconds passed. “Could I have your number, at least?” Kurt asked, fingering the strap to his bag.

Blaine paused for a moment, one foot already in the cab. He smiled crookedly at Kurt. “I have a hunch you’ll find me,” he said mysteriously, winking and closing the door.

Kurt laughed, shaking his head and backing up onto the sidewalk again, waving as the cab drove off. He then turned and started the short walk back to his apartment.

*~*~*

It wasn’t until next Friday that Kurt found another opportunity to walk through Central Park. He had been tempted to during the weekend, but something told him Blaine wouldn’t be there, and his boss had been positively breathing down his neck for the pass week, and he had found no time for a stroll under the pile of work he was given.

He walked along the long, peaceful pathways again, ears alert as he tried to catch the strain of an acoustic guitar. He finally heard it again, albeit coming from a different direction. He quickened his pace., adjusting the black fedora he had decided to wear to work that day.

There were more people this time, and the performance already seemed to be in full swing. Blaine was halfway through a song, and people had already begun dropping money into the case.

Kurt pulled the brim of his hat lower, keeping his head down as to hide his face. He had, somewhat embarrassingly enough, already planned out how he was going to go about this. He pulled out a pre-folded twenty, checked to make sure the piece of paper he had scrawled his number on was still tucked in there, and walked quickly by Blaine, head still down. He walked until he rounded a corner, still close enough to hear the music, and sat down on a bench facing away from Blaine. He would’ve liked to join in and sing today, but he contented himself with just listening to Blaine.

He sat until he heard Blaine announce that he was done and the lamplights began flickering on again. He got up and walked back to where he could see Blaine, but made no move to make himself known. He watched as Blaine crouched and began unfolding bills and arranging them. A small strip of white paper floated down into the now- empty guitar case from the last bill Blaine unfolded. The man paused, confused, reading the slip of paper and breaking into a laugh.

“I know you’re there,” he called out, still laughing.

Kurt walked out. “Let me guess,” he said, pursing his lips. “It was the fedora, wasn’t it?”

Blaine nodded. “Well,” he said, tilting his head a little and thinking, “It was kind of your whole outfit. You realize there aren’t many who can pull your entire ensemble off, right?”

“I’m going to take that to mean that you think I’m the only one who can pull this off,” Kurt said haughtily. “Still,” he said, dropping the bravado for a minute, “I think that me slipping my number to you is a bit more welcome than that waitress, am I right?”

“Quite,” Blaine said, bobbing his head in agreement. He pocketed the number, much to Kurt’s half- hidden delight.

“So do you want to grab some dinner?” Blaine asked hopefully.

Kurt sighed exaggeratedly. “I would love to, but I can’t.” He patted his bulging messenger bag next to him. “I’ve got a deadline coming up, and my boss is going to blow a fuse if I don’t get this finish.” Blaine’s face fell, but he nodded, pulling out his wallet and placing the money inside.

“But,” Kurt said, watching as Blaine’s eyes snapped back up to his, “Would you like to grab some coffee tomorrow? I know a nice caf� not to far from here.”

Blaine smiled charmingly. “I’d like that,” he murmured. “Where is it?” he asked, pulling out the slip of paper Kurt had given him and a pen.

Kurt quickly gave him the streets, watching as Blaine neatly printed them out. “Say, three o’clock tomorrow?” Blaine nodded. “Great! I’ve got to run now. I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?” He turned and began walking away. He paused, turning back to Blaine, placing a hand on his hip.

“You know,” Kurt said, going into diva- mode, “I still haven’t gotten your number.”

Blaine laughed. “C’mere,” he jerked his head, waving Kurt forward. “Give me your hand.” He wrote his number on Kurt’s hand. “Happy now?”

Kurt inspected the number and Blaine’s writing. “I suppose so,” he said, exasperatedly.

“Don’t you have work to do?” Blaine asked, pushing Kurt away.

“Geez!” Kurt exclaimed, backing away. “If you didn’t want my presence that much, you should have just said so.” He smiled genuinely at Blaine. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Blaine.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

*~*~*

Three weeks later, David was walking back into the park, first time since he had met Kurt. He was tired, the stress of being lawyer getting to him. He hoped Blaine was playing in the park somewhere; he was in desperate need of some “musical therapy” as it had been dubbed.

He heard the sound of the guitar and Blaine’s voice, smiling as he walked faster. He suddenly heard another voice, much higher than Blaine’s but too masculine yet to be taken for a girl’s. His grin widened as he rounded the corner, his suspicions confirmed.

Kurt and Blaine both sat on a bench together, staring into each other’s eyes and singing. To David’s delight, he noted how one of Kurt’s hands rested on Blaine’s knee, and how Blaine quickly clasped his hands with Kurt when the song was over, before rising and beginning another song.

David turned away for a moment, pulling his phone out. “Listen, Wes,” he said as his best friend picked up, “You aren’t going to believe this…”
________________________________________

(*) In my head, had Kurt not transfered to Dalton and had gotten that solo for Sectionals, he would've sang a Beatle's song.

(**) I made Blaine a teacher. I couldn't resist.