He won't get out of Blaine's head.

That stupid, pretty boy from the shelter will not get out of Blaine's head, and it's driving him crazy.

It's been two days, and as he sweeps up what looks like an entire bags worth of popcorn off the floor, his mind races with a million questions, all about that boy. Kurt.

He has a beautiful voice. Blaine only heard him sing one line, but he can't figure out why Kurt never had solos during their high school competitions. No one on the Warblers had ever had a voice like that.

He wonders if Kurt really does sing to Toby, or if he just said he would. He wonders if Kurt and Toby are getting along, or if Kurt regrets getting an older cat instead of a kitten. He wonders what drew Kurt to Toby instead of the white fluffy kitten or some other cat. He wondered why someone dressed like Kurt would adopt a cat instead of buying one. He wonders if Kurt goes to school for music or theater.

Most of all, he wonders if he's ever going to see him again.

He's pretty sure he knows the answer to that question.

Still, he can't shake it. He wants to see Kurt again. He wants to talk to him about New York and Ohio and animals and show choir and hell, even fashion. He wants to take Kurt out for coffee and remember his order so they can do it again sometime. He wants to hear Kurt's voice and to have a reason to stare into Kurt's eyes for extended periods of time, because he's pretty sure that Kurt's eyes are the prettiest he's ever seen.

He knows he's being ridiculous. It's lonely in New York. He had tons of friends back in Ohio, and hell, even suitors—if you could count Sebastian's forward sexual advances.

They'd lived only a few towns away from each other their whole lives and they just met now. A big part of Blaine can't help but feel like this is more than a coincidence.

Maybe that's just the loneliness talking.

When he goes back to the shelter the next weekend, he reads over the forms Kurt filled out when he took Toby home. His phone number is there, in Kurt's careful script. Blaine considers calling him, but why would he? To check on how he's doing with Toby? Maybe that would work, but it would seem creepy, wouldn't it? Toby is Kurt's cat. He doesn't need people checking in on him.

He picks up the phone and stares at it for a minute before sighing and placing it back on the wall.

He feels absolutely pathetic.

“Just call the guy, Blainey,” Cooper tells him over the phone. “Seriously, what do you have to lose? Take him out. Go to a movie. Hell, go to one of my movies.”

“I've had enough of movies and movies theaters to last a lifetime, Cooper. No thank you.”

“Ahh, you're missing out, Squirt. Anyway, give the guy a call. You need to get laid.”

“I do not,” Blaine grumbles.

“You really do. Have you dated anyone since Alex?” Coop asks knowingly. Blaine says nothing. “I didn't think so. Seriously, kid, this could be good for you. And look, you've got so much in common—both like the same grumpy cat, both from Ohio, both singers.”

“It takes more than that for people to be compatible, Cooper.”

“Well you'll never know what else you have in common if you don't call him,” Coop says. “Look, I gotta go to make-up, but I'll talk to you later, Blainey.”

“Right. See ya, Coop.” He sighs as he hangs up the phone.

“Toby!” Kurt groans, walking into his bedroom to find his cat once again laying across his pillow. Toby shoots Kurt a challenging look and Kurt sighs.

He likes having Toby around. Really, he does. He's good company for when Kurt is working on coming up with articles. Over the summer, he's working on doing some freelance work to increase his writing portfolio. He needs practice with writing good news stories, anyway.

Of course, he's good company until he decides it's time for bed. When Toby dictates it's time for bed, he sits across Kurt's hands on his keyboard and meows at him until he closes the laptop and goes to bed. He races Kurt to the bedroom and promptly settles himself across Kurt's favorite pillow and they spend the next five to ten minutes engaged in a battle of territory.

Toby nearly always wins.

Every night, Kurt sleeps on the wrong side of the bed with the wrong pillow, and Toby sleeps on Kurt's pillow on his preferred side of the bed. Of course, he's never there in the morning. By the morning he's settled against Kurt's back, curled up and soaking up his body heat. Kurt feels like he's the little spoon in the relationship. He questions why he's regarding his newly founded cat ownership as a relationship, but he doesn't think too hard on it.

Toby fills an empty space in Kurt's life that Rachel had once filled, and he's grateful. But there's something he still can't shake.

Blaine. The boy from the shelter who had sang to the oldest, grumpiest cat there. Kurt almost felt bad for taking Toby away from Blaine, but he knew by the look in Blaine's eyes that he was happy that Toby was finally being given a home.

Still, Kurt had felt wrong leaving. He wasn't sure if it was because he felt bad taking Toby, or because he felt bad leaving Blaine and knowing that they'd probably never meet again.

Blaine was... magnetic. Something about him was so warm and inviting. Conversation between them had flowed easily, and Kurt was drawn to his pretty smile and his deep hazel eyes.

More than once, he found himself daydreaming of Blaine when he should've been brainstorming story ideas.

He wants to see Blaine again. He just has no idea how to make that happen.