Blaine was sprawled half-awake in his bed with the blankets drawn across his torso and legs, his face buried in a pillow as he tried to get himself to wake up. He hadn’t slept much, mostly because he had been working on homework all night, despite the fact that it wasn’t all due until Monday, but he really wasn’t in the mood for going out with Kurt and having to worry about essays and such to do when he got back. So until four o’clock in the morning the musician had stayed up, writing three different essays, all of which were for different classes and ended up being a combined twenty pages. It wasn’t much but trying to think at four in the morning without any coffee was nearly impossible, especially when he had plenty of other things he’d rather think about then how artists such as Carole King and Eva Cassidy influenced the music and lyrics that he composed, or the history of classical music and how it compared to more contemporary singers, or more randomly the secrets behind Abraham Lincoln’s journal and how the research he had done for it - at two in the morning - proved that their was more to the president then was simply in the history books. But somehow he had managed to get it all done, edited all three papers, and submitted them via email to his professors so he didn’t have to be concerned about finishing them later in the weekend.

Eventually the musician managed to pull himself out of bed, stumbling somewhat over his shoes and clothing that he had stripped off the night before in order to sleep in his boxer briefs and undershirt, barely catching his balance once he had grabbed onto his desk chair, “Awesome…” he mumbled unenthusiastically, groaning a little in frustration and exhaustion as he ran a couple fingers through his messy curls. Blaine yawned, shaking his head as though it would help to get rid of the tiredness. He had a couple hours before he was supposed to meet up with Kurt, and there was just one thing he had to do before he showered and got dressed…one errand he had to run. Reaching down he grabbed his jeans and hoody, pulling them over his frame and slipping his feet into the first pair of shoes he came across - wincing at his apparent disregard for not fetching matching ones - and grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone as he left the room. The drive to the nearest florist wasn’t all that bad, and he knew buying a flower for Kurt was probably the most ridiculously cheesy thing ever…but for some reason he couldn’t help but love the idea nonetheless, forgetting how silly it may be and just going for it anyways…because that’s how this whole thing had started anyways, him pushing boundaries and taking chance no matter how bad the outcome seemed.

When he arrived back at his dorm he set the flower in one of his coffee mugs filled to the brim with cold water and proceeded to climb into the shower in order to get ready. Ten minutes later he was out of the bathroom and pulling his suit out of the closet to be placed carefully on his bed. He ran a couple fingers through his dark wet curls and pulled on a pair of boxer briefs, an undershirt, and slipped the white dress shirt over his shoulders, buttoning it up to the top and flipping the collar up in order to get his tie around his neck. Blaine made a face, knowing he wasn’t the best at doing his own tie as he moved back into the bathroom to try to get his tie on correctly. Once he was somewhat satisfied - and it took way too long for him to be able to get it looking decent - he headed over to his bed again and pulled on his grey dress pants, blazer, and black dress shoes. Blaine ran a comb through his hair, not fussing over it too much or gelling it with more then enough of the usual product. But when he felt like he was presentable - which included checking over himself five times - he left his room with his keys, wallet, and cell in his pants pockets…the one sole purple Orchid in his hand as he made his way along the hall, down the stairs, and towards Kurt’s room. He smiled ever so lightly to himself, holding the flower behind his back whilst knocking twice on the door. The musician took one step back and waited patiently for an answer, both nervous and excited for going out with Kurt for the first time.

Of course Kurt couldn’t get the day off work, what was he thinking even entertaining the idea. Not that he minded the coffee shop as much, but the bar was proving mightily difficult; although since the accident which ended up with his knuckles dislocated and having to make his own way to his own doctors’ surgery to get his hand looked at, they’d given him quite a while off work ‘to compensate’ for the rudeness of customers. It wasn’t the first time that Kurt had been convinced that was it, he couldn’t work there any longer wearing a stupid cheerleading uniform and handing out beers to get abuse back, but of course it wouldn’t be the end. So pouring into bed after his final shift for two weeks at three in the morning had been somewhat welcoming - despite knowing fine well that he had to be up at seven for work the next day. Surprisingly, although he very rarely slept and was exceedingly grumpy and somewhat delusional when tired, he was such a morning person it tended to even scare him. Maybe it was because he knew exactly what the day was. Originally just going to see his all time favorite musical once again was enough to make him practically explode with excitement, but then there was the added bonus of his company. He was going with Blaine. Blaine wanted him to go. Things weren’t awkward anymore. And then of course the realisation of the fact that oh god, Blaine kissed him and he’d kissed Blaine back. It was fair to say that Kurt was still finding it difficult to comprehend it; even more so that they were going on a date.

Kurt had made a big thing that he didn’t date. After his failed attempts and experiences in the past dates just always seemed like an exceedingly bad idea and that he’d never go on one ever again. But this was Blaine. Blaine who asked so nicely, had that irresistible, chivalrous and completely breathtaking expression which Kurt just couldn’t say no to. He didn’t have a clue what he was getting himself in to. He couldn’t afford distractions from his plans in life, but just sticking to them was making him miserable; life was so monotonous - work, rehearsal, course work, lectures, more course work, work, rehearsal, scripts… Then the musician came along and Kurt just couldn’t stick to the schedule he’d had for almost a year anymore. He’d push aside essays just to spend time with the shorter man, he’d take days of work to go and see a broadway show and go out to dinner with him even though he did not do dates. He was far too over his head in the entire situation and yet he was happy to just be pulled along by the spur of the moment. Things always happened for a reason and maybe he just had to go with the flow of which direction he had to go in. Having rolled in from working at the coffee shop at four in the afternoon, Kurt had collapsed on his bed, ignoring Puck’s complaints about the Wicked soundtrack being on his iHome once again and just fell into a nap.

Of course, this ‘nap’ had turned into a decent sleep at by the time he woke up he was in full scale panic mode cursing the fact he’d agreed to a date and that he still didn’t know what he was wearing and his hair. He’d leapt into the shower and back out in some record time he wasn’t even sure was possible previously and set about towel drying his hair and applying his moisturizer simultaneously whilst flicking through his wardrobe and pulling out possibilities to string over his bed with great care. Despite not having a lot of time he still couldn’t bring it upon himself just to toss them on the bed and look at them in five minutes or so. He threw on some boxer briefs and an undershirt before rushing through his hair and styling it quickly but with complete precision and carefulness, which had taken so much practice. Of course it wasn’t going exactly how he wanted it, but it didn’t look all that bad so he could forgive it at least. What he couldn’t forgive was his dad’s ill timed phone call and having to pull on his new Marc Jacobs suit pants whilst balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear dictating instructions on how to make a decent paella without sounding agitated or like he was in a rush to get anywhere. His dad would simply try and talk him out of it or demand to speak to Blaine if he knew anything about the past few days events anyhow. He was still talking about when he could next visit Lima as he pulled the crisp, yet slightly detailed, McQueen white shirt on over his shoulders, not yet fastening it up as he quickly said his goodbyes and threw his phone down on the bed, searching through the pile of clothes for the new tie which went perfectly with the navy suit. Kurt was normally ready far too early, so rushing around getting dressed was not something he was entirely familiar with or able to do in a non flustered fashion so doing up the buttons of the shirt and tying the silk tie with slightly shaky hands took him a little longer than usual.

Kurt glanced at the clock and sighed with some form of relief as he saw he still had a good five minutes left to put everything back in the closet, find his jacket and then calm himself down ready to greet Blaine without looking like some crazed person. Just as he hung up the last shirt, which he was now seriously tempted to change in to, he could hear the gentle knock at the door and couldn’t actually hold his smile back any longer as he threaded his arms through the jacket, pocketing his phone, wallet and ticket in one smooth action before pulling the door open with a little too much obvious enthusiasm. The actor couldn’t help but just stand there for a moment, taking in just how exceedingly good Blaine actually was looking. Of course realizing the fact that he hadn’t actually spoken since he practically ripped the door from its hinges caused Kurt to blush ever so slightly. “Hi.” He breathed lightly, pressing his lips together hin his smile, thinning his lips gently with that nervous energy before letting it expand into his usual smile. He rocked on the balls of his feet a few times before breaking the eye contact he’d established and shyly looking to the floor to clear his throat. “We should get going…” Kurt added half heartedly before looking back at the musician without making any effort to actually move apart from to straighten his own tie up a little. He hadn’t even had chance to really look in the mirror so he was feeling just slightly self conscious with himself right then, especially with how amazing Blaine did actually look with that perfect color complimenting his skin tone and his eyes and the darkness of his curls. If he was a lot more forward and less guarded, he probably would have mentioned something along those lines, but all he could do was really helplessly gaze at the shorter man with that fond smile which seemed to be reserved just for him nowadays.