New York City is a massive place. 8 million people are piled into 469 square-miles of concrete. I knew that the chances of finding Blaine were slim to none, but I was still hanging on to that 'slim', even by the skin of my teeth. A tiny flame of hope flickered in my chest as I stood in line at the coffee shop.

"May I have whoever's next please?" a female barista called from behind the counter.

"Hi," I greeted as I stepped forward. "Last night there was a man named Blaine Anderson performing at your coffee shop, and I was wondering if you could give me some information on him?"

"Last night?" the woman responded. "I wasn't working last night, I'm afraid I don't know anything about that."

"Well you must have some kind of information on him. I mean, don't you have any sort of schedule for artists? This can't be some sort of one time deal."

"Sir, we have a long waiting list for musicians to play in this shop. This city is full of people who want to play their originals in front of unsuspecting strangers. All we have is a signup sheet with a name for stage reservation. It's usually is filled up weeks in advance."

"Don't you pay them, though?"

"Nope," the woman wiped something off the counter with a dishrag. "They're left with whatever tips people give them. Now, can I interest you in any food or beverages?"

The tiny flicker of optimism had been completely blown out, and replaced by a dull ache of hopelessness that I had gotten so used to feeling since New Year's Eve. "No thank you."

I left the coffee shop, sighing as I made my way down the street, towards the nearest subway entrance. It was a particularly warm day for the beginning of March. The sun was shining down on the city, warming everything in its path, yet there was still a slight frigid crispness in the air. I let my eyes wander up at the tall buildings in front of me, taking in change that the warmth had on the environment.

Maybe it was finally time for me to let go. It had been two months, there's only so long that I can wait around, sulking about some guy who's completely unreachable. Why am I even trying so hard? He knows where I live, he knows where I work, and he knows basically everything else about me. If he really wanted to see what we could be, he would have come and found me by now.

It's hard to stop thinking about someone when you kind of relate them to everything. I was lying in bed - cursing because I had forgotten to turn off the lights prior to getting under the covers - when another memory of a night with Blaine came into my mind.

Kurt and Blaine had decided to keep watching movies after The Phantom of the Opera had ended. Burt and Carol joined them when they got home from their jobs late in the afternoon. That, of course, put an end to the spontaneous make-out sessions that happened between the two boys during slow parts of the movies.

Everyone seemed to be feeling lazy that night. Burt ended up ordering pizza instead of having Carole make dinner, and Finn was out somewhere with Rachel. It was just the four of them in the house. Kurt couldn't help but feel that being alone with just Blaine and his parents was like some kind of odd double date. They were both cuddled up together on separate couches, with their limbs tangled up together under shared blankets. By the time ten-o-clock came around, there were two mostly empty boxes of pizza on the coffee table and some movie from the 70's playing on the television.

Kurt had been beginning to fall asleep on Blaine's shoulder, only to be awakened by a particularly loud scene about five minutes later.

"I think I'm going to head to bed," Kurt declared with a yawn. He sat up and slowly stretched his arms over his head.

"Alright kiddo," Burt responded.

"Goodnight Kurt," Carol said softly.

"Night," he replied.

Kurt turned and pressed a quick kiss to Blaine's cheek, to keep up the act with his parents, of course. Blaine responded with a small grin as Kurt lifted the blanket off of his legs and got off the couch.

The water that splashed against Kurt's face as he went through his moisturizing routine woke him up a bit. Nevertheless, he still felt sluggish and longed to stretch his limbs out in the comfort of his bed. A sigh of contentment left his lips as he finally crawled under his sheets and sank his head onto the pillow.HHhhhhhhjknjn He had decided to only wear pajama pants to bed that night, leaving his torso completely bare under the covers. Kurt slowly shut his eyes, not falling asleep immediately but knowing he would get there eventually. It was then that he realized he had left the lights on, but decided against getting back up to turn them off. He was satisfied to just lie there silently, bask in comfort and think about nothing in particular.

A couple of minutes later, the sound of soft footsteps came from the stairs and Blaine walked into the room. Kurt slid his arms across the sheets to rest under the pillow that was below his head, gripping it softly as he watched Blaine move about the room.

Blaine had pulled out a shirt and pajama pants when Kurt decided to let him know that he was still awake.

"Hi," Kurt said softly, just as Blaine was about to walk to the bathroom.

Blaine turned slightly, "Hey," he responded with a whisper, "you're still awake?"

Kurt nodded and nuzzled his head further into the pillow. "Forgot to turn off the lights."

Blaine nodded in understanding, then silently walked over to the lamps on either side of the room and clicked them off, darkening the room, leaving the only light coming from the bathroom.

By the time Blaine came out of the bathroom, five minutes later, Kurt was half asleep. He acknowledged Blaine's footsteps padding across the room from inside his mind, the bed dipping as he got in, and a quick rush of cool air as the sheets were lifted up. A second later Blaine curled up next to Kurt, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing him against his chest.

"Mmm, you're warm," Blaine spoke lowly as he nuzzled his face in Kurt's hair. He'd never really noticed just how thick and luscious it was.

Kurt sighed out a hum as Blaine began to press light kisses below his hair line, all the way down to his exposed shoulder. Blaine got wound up in the kisses, letting them become even more open-mouthed and moved over to his ear, where he curled his tongue around the lobe.

"Blaine," Kurt muttered deeply in his hazy state. He'd been teased by him all day. Kissing lazily on the couch was great, but it always left him wanting more.

Blaine moved the hand that was over Kurt's waist and ran it over his stomach, mapping out the small dips and curves of his abdominals. He flattened his palm over Kurt's chest, running it down to his navel and then back up again slowly. His hand reached lower on his stomach every time he moved back down, and eventually he let it slip into the hem of Kurt's sweatpants. He outlined his groin with his fingertips before pushing down deeply with his palm.

Blaine was mouthing at Kurt's neck by then, craning his head in order to suck lightly over at the sensitive skin on his neck and run over it with his tongue.

Kurt was immersed in sensations. Between the feeling of Blaine's mouth on the back of his neck and his hand over his groin, he could practically feel all of his blood quickly rushing south. Even though they'd done things like this before, Kurt still hadn't fully grasped the concept that Blaine had really wanted him.

Blaine lifted himself higher, supporting his weight on his forearm and allowing himself to move his lips lazily over the other man's cheek. Kurt moved with Blaine, twisting his body so that he was on his back and met Blaine's lips in a fervent kiss. He sucked on Blaine's bottom lip and tried to send the point that he very much needed him to give him more. Blaine seemed to get the message, and slipped his hand into Kurt's briefs, stroking his cock once and twisting at the head.

Kurt tried to cover up his moan with actual words, which just ended up coming out as nonsense combined with the word 'shit'. Blaine let out a breath of amusement against his lips as he continued to move his hand on Kurt's cock. It was a little bit odd for Kurt, just letting Blaine take care of him while he laid back and enjoyed it.

Kurt lifted his hands up to cradle Blaine's head as he pulled him down for another kiss. Blaine slipped his tongue in between his lips, humming at the taste of him. Kurt met him in the middle a moment later, allowing his tongue to rub and dance around Blaine's. He couldn't get enough of Blaine's mouth. Every time Blaine pulled back, Kurt would push forward a second later, wishing that Blaine's lips would just stay on his forever. And every time he did this, Blaine would become even more aroused, and he worked his hand faster on Kurt's length. Even though Blaine wanted to be able to see the shadows of Kurt falling apart, he had to admit that just kissing Kurt was even better, in an eccentric way.

"Blaine," Kurt muttered with closed eyes, "I'm...I'm..."

"Go ahead," Blaine encouraged, "come for me, darling."

If Kurt had time to contemplate the term of endearment, he would have thought it to be very strange and rather odd for the fleeting nature of their relationship. But his orgasm crashed through him before he had time to process the words, and his come spilt over Blaine's hand and all over his chest.

Once Kurt had calmed down from his orgasm, he immediately reclaimed his mouth over Blaine's, and reached his hand down to return the favor.

I sighed as I lifted the covers off of me to go and turn off the lights in my bedroom. I noticed that I was a little bit light headed and looked down to see a tent in my briefs.

Great, looks like I'm not getting to sleep anytime soon...

"Hi," I said as Jackie opened the door to her apartment.

"You're here! Good! We just opened the ice cream," he enthused while beckoning me into the room. The living room was littered with bags of junk food and take out, with several DVD cases spread throughout the mess. Jackie had called me an hour ago explaining that her roommate's boyfriend had just broken up with her, and that I should join them in their post-breakup rituals. Those rituals usually consisted of eating huge amounts of crap, watching horror flicks and romantic comedies (because once you watched a romantic comedy, you feel too shitty to watch another sappy love movie, but then once you've watched a horror movie, all you want to see is something light-hearted), and comforting the person who got dumped.

"Hey Elise," I spoke soothingly as I plopped myself down next to her on the couch, "how are you doing, honey?"

"Terrible," she responded before putting another Dorito in her mouth, "but thank you, darling."

"Right now we're in the middle of a chick-flick cycle, because we just watched 'The Exorcist' and I almost shit my pants," Jackie informed from the kitchen while she got grabbed three spoons for ice cream.

I nodded and looked towards the screen, where the movie was paused leaving Hugh Grant's face looking particularly ridiculous. "So what did the douche-bag say to you?"

"Ben said that I was too 'unladylike'," Elise explained with overly dramatic quotation-mark gestures. "That-that I got along with his dude friends too well and that he couldn't be with someone who he sees as 'one of the guys'. Like...like what the fuck even...I have a vagina. Is that not good enough for him?"

"She's a little drunk," Jackie clarified as she sat down on Elise's other side. "She made us Shirley temples earlier and she kind of put an ass-load of vodka in hers."

"I thought getting along with your boyfriend's friends was considered a good thing?" I recalled.

"No, no no it totally is! The man is a fucking lunatic asshole shit-bag, is what he is..." Elise slurred with wide passionate eyes.

"Okay, maybe a lot drunk," Jackie observed.

I reached for a spoon and dug it into the quart of cookies-and-cream ice cream. "You know, you'd think that my one dancer friend would be encouraging me to eat healthy..."

"Hey, I haven't done this in a long time," Jackie defended. "I would have done it for you, but you don't like to admit when you're sad."

"You can't force pity parties on people," Elise said while she chewed on another chip. "I've tried."

"I am not going to let myself have a pity party over Blaine," I groaned. "We were never really even in a relationship to begin with."

"Pity parties aren't about logistics, Kurt," Jackie leaned over Elise as she pointed out - literally - with her spoon of ice cream. "They're about feelings." She retracted the spoon and put it in her mouth. "So how did things go at the coffee shop?"

"Stupidly," I replied as I dug my spoon back in the tub, "they said they didn't have any information on him."

"Laaaaaaame," Elise whined.

"Well you shouldn't give up," Jackie encouraged. "You never know, he might be pulling a Nancy Drew and just wants you to figure out where he is."

"You can borrow my magnifying glass," Elise said enthusiastically.

"I don't even know where to begin to look for him though," I sighed, letting my head fall onto the back of the couch.

"Well I mean, maybe there was something in that note he left you?"

"There can't be," I replied, "I read it over a thousand times. All it says is that was sorry for causing 'feelings' and stealing your car and making me lie."

There was silence for a moment.

"He WHAT?" Jackie yelled.

Oh shit.

"You said that he just disappeared and left a note. You never said anything about him stealing my car, Kurt!"

"I...I...it was after he said that he loved me...he wanted to go back to the house and I gave him my keys," I argued quietly.

Jackie was silent again, and I could practically see the anger building inside of her.

"He returned it though! It was back the next morning!"

"You are never...ever...borrowing my car again."

"But-"

"NEVER!"

The next day, a class on theatre design was dismissed just after noon. I quietly packed my supplies back into my shoulder bag and walked out of the room.

"Hummel, wait up."

Sebastian Smythe began walking towards me, slinging his bag over his shoulder while he moved to catch up. My eyes rolled on their own accord as I turned back around and chose to ignore his request. I continued to walk down the hall.

"Ooo, the rolling of the eyes, that hurts," Sebastian teased sarcastically. He had reached my side and quickened his steps to match the pace of my walking. "In a hurry?"

"I have things to do," I announced half-heartedly as I turned the corner. Sebastian hummed in acknowledgement, but continued to follow me out onto the street. "What do you want, Sebastian?"

"What, we can't just talk?"

"No."

"I thought we were friends!"

"I don't know what your definition of a 'friend' is, but I don't think that one time you told me that my ass looked good necessarily counts as friendly bonding."

"Well, what better time to start than right now?" he smiled, lifting up his palms and putting himself somewhat in front of my path.

"Never?" I dodged him and kept moving on the sidewalk.

"Kuuuuuurt," he groaned, putting his hand on my arm and stopping me from continuing to walk. "Can't you give me the time of day for like, two seconds?"

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, quickly clicking it on and then off again. "It's 12:30, now will you leave me alone?"

Sebastian forced out a fake laugh. "You're very funny, have I ever told you that, Kurt?" I ignored him again and kept walking down the street. It was proved a futile effort when Sebastian was scurrying back over to my side a moment later. "Okay, c'mon Kurt, I just need you to tell me."

"Tell you what, exactly?"

Sebastian sighed and combed a hand through his hair. I looked at him for a moment before starting town the steps of the subway entrance. My brow furrowed once he was behind me. Since when does Sebastian Smythe get nervous?

The sound of shoes quickly stepping against the metal stairs came from behind me, and Sebastian once again appeared by my side seconds later. "Just...how the hell did you get on Broadway, Kurt?"

Oh, so that's what he wanted. I turned my head to the side and smirked as I swiped my metro-card.

"I've been trying to figure it out and I just don't understand it. You're a sophomore in college. Who the hell hires a barely-trained sophomore?"

I didn't say anything and just continued to grin while Sebastian ranted. He swiped his metro-card as well and followed me to the subway. He's coming with me.

Great.

"Seriously, Kurt. Tell me," He continued as I slid into the doors of the subway car. "Did you kill anyone? Did you hold people at gun-point and demand a gig?" I walked over to the other side, where there was an empty row of orange seats and sat down. Sebastian followed, of course.

"I was in the right place at the right time, that's all," I answered coolly. He was silent for a minute or two, obviously drinking in what I had just said.

"You gave Stephen Schwartz a blowjob, didn't you?" he accused.

"OH my god..." I blurted out in surprise, then looked around us to see if anyone was listening to our conversation. A middle aged woman in a business suit gave us a strange look from over her newspaper a few feet away.

"No, no. That doesn't seem like enough. That might have gotten you like...tickets or something but not a job," Sebastian contemplated. "Oh I know," he said suddenly, "he fucked you into a mattress."

"Sebastian, please shut up." I slid down in my seat and placed my hand lightly over my eyes.

"That wouldn't be enough either, would it? You guys must have had a lot of sex. Jesus, Kurt, I never took you as the type."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"And he's like...well into his 60's isn't he? That must have been pretty gross. Did he even have any sperm left in his body? His come must have been all watery and gross."

"Who raised you?" I asked incredulously. "The man has a wife and two children."

"No, Kurt, I believe the question is who raised you, home-wrecker."

I scoffed in disbelief, got up from my seat and walked over to the other side of the train, opting to stand and hold onto a metal bar instead of sitting next to Sebastian. A minute later he was behind me once more, just standing there, holding onto the bar of the subway. I tried to just forget about his presence and focus on which stop we were on.

"You know, this is starting to get really creepy." I stepped off the subway car and onto the platform.

"And yet I really don't think you're going to do anything about it, considering the fact that you still haven't told me how you got into the show." He followed me up the stairs and back onto the street.

"I just got lucky, Smythe."

"How though? There must be something you did... babysat for someone's kid or some shit like that."

"Nope," I replied, walking up to my apartment building, "now if you'll kindly leave me alone..."

"See, Kurt, this is what I want." He pointed to the apartment building in front of me. "I want to be able to afford my own place. I want to not have to go back to a shitty dorm every night after my shift at Dairy Queen. It sucks, and you've cheated it and I want to know how."

I turned back to him before entering my building, "I already told you, Sebastian, be at the right place at the right time."

Ten minutes later I was walking back out of my apartment with Hector attached to a leash. I had a few errands to run, and I planned on taking my dog through Central Park after that.

"Hummel!" Sebastian called as he ran up to me.

"Holy fuck, Sebastian, just give it a rest."

"I refuse, not until you give me a straight answer," he replied, "Nice dog."

I looked at him in response, sending over a very forced smile. "I was at a Starbucks and the producers of Wicked were in front of me in line. I heard then talk about how the needed to find a replacement for one of their monkeys and I happened to have my resume with me."

Sebastian was silent for a moment. "Seriously, Starbucks? That's your advice?"

"I don't know what else to tell you, Sebastian! That's how it happened."

"Bullshit."

I laughed, "Fine, don't believe me, Sebastian."

"It just...doesn't make any sense."

"Well that's life, sometimes it doesn't." We had just walked up to the bank, and I needed to go inside. "You owe me a favor."

Sebastian's face scrunched up. "Noooo, I don't believe I owe you anything," he replied.

"Watch the dog for me? The bank doesn't allow pets. It'll take like three minutes."

He tipped his head down slightly and stared at me from under his eyelashes. He wasn't actually saying no, so I took it as a yes and handed him the leash.

Blaine Anderson's Point of View

I'm late, I'm late, I'm late, I'm late, I'm late, I chanted to myself from inside my head as I made my way down the street. My shift at Caravaggio, an Italian restaurant on the Upper West Side, started in ten minutes and I still had to walk about fifteen blocks.

"Well if it isn't Blaine Anderson," a voice said from beside me on the sidewalk. I turned, looking confused, and saw someone who looked like Sebastian Smythe leaning against the wall of a Chase Bank.

Oh god.

"Sebastian?"

"How the hell have you been, Blaine?"

"Oh...I've been alright." I looked back towards the street, about to tell him that I had to be somewhere, but then I saw a puppy out of the corner of my eye. "Is this your dog?" I asked before bending down to pet him. He was absolutely adorable, with soft brown fur and the cutest little face.

"Something like that," Sebastian murmured, rubbing the back of his head.

I cocked my head a little bit at his choice of words, but just shrugged it off as the dog's tail wagged and he licked my hand. "He's beautiful," I commented. "I would have loved to have a dog like you," I gushed. "Would have named you Hector."

"You should come over sometime and see him," Sebastian said suddenly with a sly grin.

"Yeah I..." I stood back up. I mean the dog was awesome...but not cute enough for me to get involved with Sebastian Smythe again. "I'm really late for work."

"Well who knows, maybe we'll run into each other at a bar sometime," Sebastian proclaimed.

"Yeah, anything's possible, right?" I waved a short goodbye as I turned back around and continued down the street.

Maybe I should just take the subway.

"Hoooooney I'm hooooome!" Cooper yelled as he stepped into the apartment, slamming the door shut with his foot because his hands were full of takeout bags. "And I brought food!"

I was sitting on the floor of our living room, my cheek rested flat against the coffee table and a little bit of drool pooled on the wood next to my mouth. Apparently, I had fallen asleep while working on a new song, and my head shot up quickly when Cooper came in the door.

"Someone's been working hard," Cooper commented as he started taking boxes of Chinese food out of the bag and onto the kitchen counter.

"Or hardly working, I fell asleep." I mumbled as I rubbed my eyes. "What time is it?

"Nine-o-clock, and you got a little uh..." he gestured towards the corner of his mouth and I noticed the drool on my cheek, then quickly wiped it away with my sleeve.

I pushed my guitar off of my lap and let myself fall back onto the floor, stretching out my legs and arms. "God, I'm so tired."

Cooper walked into the living room with a box of Pork Lo Mein and chopsticks, sat on the couch and rested his feet on my stomach. "What did you do today?"

I sighed and rubbed at my eyes some more, "Worked a double shift at Caravaggio's and played a gig at this café in SoHo."

Cooper's eyebrows shot up. "SoHo, huh? That's a fancy part of town," he commented, taking a bite of noodles. "You must have gotten a lot of tips."

"I did," I replied happily as I nudged his feet off my tummy. I got up off the ground and went to grab some food. "Also there was this one guy who worked at a recording studio, he gave me his card."

"That's awesome, Blaine!" Cooper enthused.

I smiled and reached for a plate out of the cupboard. "So where've you been?"

"Well, I was helping my buddy Paul move some furniture, but then I met this girl."

"So naturally you stopped helping your buddy Paul move some furniture," I teased.

"Priorities, man," he replied. "But yeah, I was moving this sofa chair and I ended up blocking her door and we talked for a little bit afterwards. And then I asked her if she was hungry, and she said not really, but she could really use some fresh air. Then the next thing I know we're walking through Central Park together."

"Wow, really?"

"Yeah, it was nice."

"So did you get her number?"

"Yep," he said, then fished a piece of paper out of his wallet and tossed it on the coffee table for me to see. The name 'Jackie' was written on in neat letters above a nine digit telephone number. For a second I wondered if it could be Kurt's friend, but then dismissed the idea. There must be thousands of Jackie's in New York, there's no way that it's the same one.

When I looked back up, Cooper had my legal pad in his hand and was reading over my music.

"Cooper-"

He started reciting the words, his eyebrows bent in concentration. "'All attempts have failed, all my heads are tails. He's got teary eyes, I've got reasons why'," he looked back to me. "So I see you're still thinking about Kurt."

I just stared at him and took a bite of the General Tso's Chicken that was in front of me.

"'I'm losing ground and gaining speed. I've lost myself or most of me'," he continued to read. "'I'm headed for the final precipice'."

Chew. Swallow. Another bite.

"Blaine, you've gotta talk to me about this."

"Talking isn't how I'm going to get over it, Coop. Forgetting about it is how I'm going to get over it."

"Obviously that's not working very well for you," Cooper reasoned, pointing towards the legal pad in his hand. "Look, I know that you've been saying that the 'out of sight, out of mind' philosophy was going to work for you, but I'm worried about you, Blaine. You barely ever smile anymore, unless you land a gig or I break my ass trying to get at least a smirk out of you."

"Oh don't act like you break your ass just for the sake of entertaining me."

"I'm serious, Blaine. You miss him. You want him back."

"I never had him."

"Then go get him."

"It's not that easy, Coop. He doesn't feel for me the way I feel for him. He's probably glad that I'm gone...that-that he doesn't have to take care of some annoying hobo anymore," I countered.

"Did he say that?"

"I...no, but-"

"Then you don't know it to be true. There had to be something there for you to be feeling this way. I know you, you're too smart to let something get to you if it's meant to be completely fake. Blaine, what are you so afraid of?"

I put my plate of food down on the coffee table and rested my head in my hands as I massaged my scalp. "He already said no to me once. I don't think I can handle him rejecting me again."

Cooper got up from his couch and moved into the seat next to me, putting an arm around my shoulder. "Blaine, I'm almost positive that he won't say no to you."

"And what if he does."

"You know what, then fuck him, Blaine. There are plenty of fish in the sea that are just as pretty."

I scoffed. Not to me, there aren't.

"Thanks Coop...I...maybe I will. I'm just going to see where fate brings me."

"Well, if fate needs a little push," Cooper suggested as he reached back for his lo mein, "just tell me where he lives and I'll be more than happy to go over there and kidnap is ass."

"How very civil of you," I responded with a smirk, picking up my fork again.

We both sat back on the couch and decided to watch a movie while we ate. Cooper was putting a disc into the DVD player when I considered asking him a question.

"Hey Coop?"

"Yup?"

"That girl that you met today, do you know what she does for a living?"

Cooper looked up at the ceiling in thought for a moment before responding. "I think she's a dancer, why?"