Kurt woke up the morning after his date with Blaine to find Santana snuggled against him, still dressed in the outfit she'd left for her date in, her head on her chest, just like he'd hoped she would be. He was happy to have her in his life and she always knew exactly what he needed without a word from him. She was the one unexpected thing he'd found in high school. The friend he never meant to find, but when he did, it was like finding something you didn't even realize was missing. They were different, but their differences complimented each other and they'd learned to rely on each other through high school, moving to New York, college and life. Maybe it started because Kurt had been out and proud by the middle of their sophomore year and Santana, struggling to find herself, found a connection with Kurt. Someone who understood what she was going through. Neither of them can really put an exactly moment that it all clicked. But Kurt was certain he had no idea where he'd be if he didn't have Santana as his best friend.

Kurt picked up his phone from the couch beside him and glanced at the time. It was 9:30. He wiggled himself slowly from underneath Santana, careful not to wake her as he pried her body from his, and went to the kitchen to turn the coffee pot on. He had the lunch shift at the restaurant so he had enough time to jump in the shower, wash the remains of yesterday from his skin, put on a new outfit and start fresh. Because that was the only way to move on from everything that had happened the night before. It was one date. One date with a very, very attractive man who Kurt managed to not only enthrall him when he spoke but feel amazing pressed against him. He should have known it was too good to be true. Kurt had gone out on single dates before. He'd been given, and gave, the "I think we'd be better off as friends" speech on more than once occasion. So why did this rejection feel different? Why did it leave him with the feeling that part of him was missing?

After showing and dressing for work, ready to face a new day, Kurt walked back into the kitchen, the smell of coffee filling the apartment and calling to him like a moth to a flame. He walked over to the cabinet and pulled his favorite coffee cup from the shelf. From the counter, he noticed Santana shifting on the couch, waking up and turning to face him, her eyes open and she remained snuggled underneath the blanket they had shared while they slept.

"Are we talking about it," Santana asked her voice still thick with sleep.

"No," Kurt said filling his coffee cup.

"That bad?"

"No, it was perfect actually," Kurt said holding his coffee cup up to his face letting the aroma and the heat tickle his senses.

"So what was the problem," Santana asked getting up from the couch and joining Kurt in the kitchen, the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. She took a seat at the kitchen table and Kurt placed the cup he'd poured for himself in front of her and went to get another one from the cabinet. When it was full he took a seat across from Santana, taking a sip before answering her.

"It was perfect until he made it clear that he was only looking for a one night stand."

"Really? What an asshole," Santana said, "I'm sorry, baby."

"No, really it's fine. It was stupid of me to think that first dates always lead to more dates."

"I know," Santana said, "I was just really hoping this would work out for you."

Because I'm tired of seeing you alone, Kurt added for her in his head.

"So how was your date?" Kurt asked to change the subject. The quickest way to forget the whole thing ever happened was to stop talking about it.

"Better than yours. She's kind of really amazing," Santana said blushing (yes, Santana Lopez was blushing) into her coffee cup, "Brittany. Her name is Brittany."

"Brittany, huh? This sounds serious," Kurt said, "I can't remember the last time you gave me someone's name."

"She's wonderful, Kurt," Santana said beaming, "And I'm sorry this probably isn't making you feel any better."

Kurt smiled and reached across the table and put his hand on top of Santana's, "If you're happy, that makes me happy."

"I'm happy," Santana said and Kurt could see how she was bursting at the seams.

"Good," Kurt said, "Now tell me about her."

"Her name is Brittany. She's our age. She's a dancer," Santana told him, "I want to bring her by. I want her to meet you."

Kurt had never had any formal introductions to Santana's girlfriends. Occasionally he'd get a hello as they were leaving in the morning or a quick hello as he rushed passed them making out on the couch when Kurt came home. But Santana had never wanted Kurt to meet a girl before and he couldn't stop the smile that spread on his face at the thought.

"Yeah, yeah, that would be great."

"You're off next Saturday right?"

"I have to work the lunch shift," Kurt corrected.

"Great, then we can do dinner. I'll cook and you we can all hang out."

"That sounds great."

And it does. It's something to look forward to in order to move his mind away from Blaine and their disaster of a date.

Except, Kurt can't seem to because Blaine seemed to be everywhere.

"I think I'm being haunted by the ghosts of embarrassing dates past," Kurt said walking through the door on Friday after the lunch shift. He liked the lunch shift, even though they were shorter than the dinner shift, but he got home and the sun was still out and he felt like he could still do something with his day.

"Why do you say that," Santana said coming out of the bathroom while putting her earring on.

"Because Blaine was at the restaurant for lunch today," Kurt said throwing himself onto the couch. He wanted to shower and watch bad television all night.

"And the problem with that is," Santana said as she bent over the kitchen table rummaging through her purse.

"The problem with that is that he's been there almost every day for the last week," Kurt said, "He was there for dinner on Monday and Tuesday, lunch today. And Tina said he was there on Wednesday when I wasn't."

"Maybe he really likes the chicken?" Santana said slipping into her heels. She was off to work.

"If he's there for the food than he's trying every single thing on the menu," Kurt said, "I'm just glad I don't have to wait on him."

"Do you honestly think he's stalking you?" Santana said standing in front of Kurt, her hands on her hips.

"Well it sounds crazier when you say it out loud than it does in my head, but I don't know what else to think," Kurt said looking at her feet

"Has he tried to talk to you?"

"No," Kurt said frustrated, "And I haven't even caught him staring or anything weird. He's just always there."

"By himself?"

"No with what I'm assuming are clients, or dates, or I don't know."

"You're losing it."

"Thank you for pointing that out, I wasn't aware of that yet."

"Are you still hung up on him?"

Kurt's eyes darted away from Santana's until they were focused on a spot on the wall.

"Oh my god, are you!" Santana exclaimed, "Kurt, it was one date."

"I'm well aware of that Santana," Kurt said, "I just can't stop thinking about him."

And it was the truth. Somehow the few hours they'd spent together kept playing on a constant loop in Kurt's head. And when he wasn't reliving the perfect parts of their date: dinner, dancing, kissing, he was using his always overactive imagination to create new scenarios; scenarios that would never happen because Blaine didn't date. This was like a high school crush, and worse than the stupid crush he'd once had on his step-brother. Because it had only been one date and some kissing and slight groping. But Blaine kissed better than anyone Kurt had ever kissed before. And it wasn't so much that Blaine had a talent, but that somehow kissing Blaine felt different; like he should spend forever kissing Blaine. The only way to get over this was too put Blaine from his mind. But Blaine seemed determined to make that absolutely impossible.

"I can see if Brittany has any gay friends," Santana said, 'She could bring them to dinner this weekend."

"No," Kurt said, "I don't want to have a blind date in my own house. This place already has enough embarrassment for one lifetime."

"Fine. But you should get back on the well-hung horse Kurt. Aside from your date with Blaine, you've barely gone out with anyone in like a year. You're always at work, or working on an audition, or lying on the couch watching Real Housewives of Orange County."

"How did this turn into a conversation about how I'm going to die a spinster? This was supposed to be you freaking out because Blaine seems to be everywhere."

"Then talk to him the next time he's there," Santana said, "Or I will."

"No, don't," Kurt said, "Makes it sound like I've run and told mommy. Just, maybe there's a logical explanation why he keeps showing up. Maybe he'll just stop being there."

"If I see him there, I'm going to have a talk with that little shit," Santana said grabbed her coat and purse from the kitchen table and made her way towards the door, "And you only get tonight to continue wallowing. I want you back to your normal 'I'm Kurt Hummel and I am better than you' self by the time I get home tonight."

"I love you, too," Kurt called as Santana blew him a kiss before disappearing out the door.

Kurt took advantage of having the apartment to himself on a Friday night and called his dad. He knew that Carole and Finn would be around and as much as he loved New York, sometimes he just missed his family.

"You doin' alright, kid?" Burt said after they'd said hello.

"Yeah, Dad. I'm fine."

"Then why do ya sound like you've spent the last week watching the Notebook on repeat."

"It's nothing, dad. I promise."

"Who is he?"

"What?"

"Who is he? The guy that's got you all bummed out."

"You know me too well dad."

"So, tell me about him."

"There's not much to tell. We went on one date."

"And," Burt pushed.

"And, we wanted, uh, different things."

"Say no more, kid. I got it."

"And that would be fine and dandy but I just keep seeing him every day so it's getting hard to push this one away."

"He work at the restaurant or something?"

"No, he's just been there, as a customer, almost every day this week. "

"Is this kid stalking you, Kurt?"

"You sound like Santana."

"I knew I always liked that girl."

"No, Dad, he's not stalking me. He's just always at the restaurant meeting with clients. That how I met him in the first place"

"He a lawyer?"

"Stockbroker."

"Already sounds like an asshole."

"Dad!"

"Your old man can curse from time to time. You're an adult living in New York, you shouldn't sound so shocked. But if this guy can't appreciate you than he isn't worth you drowning your sorrows in a carton of Breyers for."

"I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Kurt."

Kurt hung up the phone, his heart a little lighter than it had been that afternoon. He knew talking to his dad would do him some good. But despite what his dad said, there was a carton of ice cream in the freezer that he'd been craving all day. He was skipping dinner and going straight for dessert.

Blaine was certain that he was the stupidest man alive. Walking out of Kurt's apartment the night of their date like he had, was not one of his best moments. He'd been stupid to expect that Kurt was looking for the same things he was: a night to take the edge off, a night without commitment. But Kurt was looking for something that lasted longer than an orgasm. And underneath the overwhelming feeling of his skin being lit on fire by Kurt's touch, was a paralyzing terror that Blaine couldn't seem to push away. It had come down to fight or flight and Blaine's raised pulse and sweaty palms told him to get out of there as fast as he could. Because Kurt was looking for something that Blaine just couldn't give him. The worst part was that he knew that walking away would hurt Kurt's feelings. They barely knew each other but he still felt guilty at the thought of hurting Kurt. But then again that was one of the reasons he'd been so determined to run. He was so out of his element that it was completely overwhelming.

Blaine was a man who didn't 'do' love. He saw no benefit from it. Maybe it came from watching his parent's loveless marriage crumble until it was nothing more than dust until he'd gone off to college and they finally filed for divorce. Maybe it was the fact that for him, coming out to his parents, meant seeing the rejection in their eyes, though their mouths told a different story. He knew before the words were out of his mouth that his parents wouldn't understand; he just never expected them to lie to him about it. He couldn't remember the last time anyone but his brother told him that he loved him. And even then he had to force out the "Love you too, Coop" from his lips. The idea of love was never spoken of in the Anderson house. Not unless Cooper, his much older brother, was falling in love with a new girl. No, instead of I love you (which he'd begun to believe wasn't true at all), affection was displayed with things; expensive things. He got a brand new car when he turned sixteen, a TV when he did well on his ACTs, a bottle of rum when he got into college because it meant that he was finally becoming a man. Only his father's words had been flat when he handed him the bottle, his eyes never meeting Blaine's. No matter how much affection he'd longed for from his parents, he never got it. So at some point, probably right around the time he started high school, Blaine convinced himself that he didn't need. He didn't need the rejection or to one day realize that the person who was supposed to love you doesn't, and you've becoming nothing but an obligation and an embarrassment.

It wasn't like he could find many people to date as a gay teenager in Ohio. Even when he was sent away to an all-boys boarding school, he'd only managed to find acceptance, but never love. And he'd found that acceptance was much more rewarding. He had friends, they liked him, what more could he need?

Now that he was in New York and being out and proud wasn't as rare, or looked down upon as it had been in Ohio. It was after a couple of one night stands in college that Blaine noticed that he liked it that way. It was all the fun of sex without removing the wall he'd put up over his heart. And that's just the way he kept things, how he wanted things. He wasn't promiscuous; there wasn't a different man in his bed every night. He went on dates, but he didn't date. Occasionally the opportunity would arise where he could take someone home, or he would go over to their place. And it doesn't need to be spelled out what happened next. But Blaine always fell asleep in his own bed, alone. And he usually never saw the guy again. Blaine did a good job of convincing himself that doing that was good enough; that he could find a guy to get him off and then move on to the next when he needed it.

But then he met Kurt. He'd found himself enthralled by Kurt's beauty the second he'd arrived at the table where he was trying to convince Mr. Dawson that it was a good idea to hire him as his financial advisor. But he suddenly didn't care about anything Mr. Dawson was saying once he'd laid eyes on Kurt. He'd had a big smile on his face that reached all the way up to his sparkling blue eyes even though the restaurant had been backed and he'd surely been running around before they'd been seated. It was completely distracting. It was no wonder Mr. Dawson thought Blaine couldn't see his vision; he'd spent most of the night trying to act as interested as possible while his brain became completely obsessed with Kurt while he watched him move gracefully throughout the restaurant.

He didn't tell Kurt that it was obvious after they'd left the restaurant that night that Mr. Dawson's outrage came from the fact that he was very much homophobic. New York may be a very liberal place, but there were still people who saw the world in a very tiny box. Mr. Dawson was definitely one of those people. It was his words that would have hurt him, had he cared enough about the opinions of a middle aged man that guided him back to the restaurant just as it was closing, to pay for the meal he'd walked out on, to ask Kurt out on a date. Because no one should ever say such words about someone as spectacular as Kurt, even if it wasn't to their face.

He'd fully intended for his date with Kurt to go just like all the others. But something changed during dinner. Kurt had been talking about his life in Ohio, a life similar to his own, and how determined he had been to get out, and how determined he still was to make a name for himself doing what he loved to do. And the same pull that had drawn Blaine's attention to Kurt that first night was pulling him to Kurt now, only tenfold. He was no longer just a beautiful guy, but a beautiful person. Blaine suddenly wanted to know everything about Kurt. He wanted to hear him sing and while they were dancing later in the evening, he wanted to see him perform. The flame that started to burn low in his bell when Kurt whispered 'let's go to my place' was different, stronger, better than it had been with any other guy. Blaine had no idea what it was, he was still clueless, but even after he'd left Kurt's apartment that night, his thoughts remained with Kurt.

There was something he couldn't even begin to verbalize about the way he felt when he'd been kissing Kurt, when he'd been holding him in his arms. His entire body had been tingling in a new way when he touched Kurt's skin and when Kurt touched him; it was hotter than the most intense fire. But something inside him put the fire out; that put the distance between himself and Kurt. It wasn't the first time someone had wanted something more, but it was the first time he'd almost said yes.

But he didn't need any of the things that came with saying yes, and he didn't want them. Except...

Except he couldn't stop thinking about Kurt. And he had no idea what to do about it.