Blaine gave a loud curse, "Shit!"

"What?"

"Somebody shut the door."

Kurt gave Blaine a quizzical look, "Ooooh-kay.  So we open it," he said as though talking to someone kind of slow in the head.  He pushed past Blaine and pulled on the door.  It didnt budge. 

Kurt turned and looked at his former lover, one eyebrow raised.

"The locks broken," Blaine explained vaguely, gesturing at the hand lettered sign that was now inside the room with them.  It read, "LOCK BROKEN--DONT SHUT THE DOOR!" 

Blaine had already pulled his phone out of his pocket, and he texted Mike, hoping he wasnt too busy to check his phone. 

"So, what?  It wont open on this side?"

"It wont open easily on any side with the lock broken."

"And you didnt think it would be a good idea to have it fixed? Why does it even have a lock?"

"Jesus, Kurt, Im not an idiot.  Ive been calling trying to get a locksmith here for three weeks, and I dont know why it has a lock; it just does."

"Sorry," Kurt gave Blaine an apologetic smile and put up a hand in a conciliatory gesture. 

"No, youre right.  I am an idiot.  It only occurred to me just now that I should have taken off the hinges, which, of course, are on the other side of the door." 

"Youre not an idiot, Blaine.  It was an accident.  How long will it be until someone gets us out of here?"

Blaine shrugged, "Last time someone knocked the door shut, it took an hour before someone jiggled the door just right on the other side to get it open."   As he said it, he heard someone, in fact, jiggle the door from the other side. 

Kurt blew out a breath.  "An hour.  Okay.  Well, what does one do in a bar mens room for an hour?"   

Blaine had a few suggestions, but he left them unspoken.  Kurt had clearly never been in some of the mens restrooms that Blaine had.  He gave Kurt a crooked smile, "You could always take off your shirt again.  I know that would make the time pass more quickly for me."

A dark look crossed Kurts face so fleetingly that Blaine thought he might have imagined it, and Blaine worried for a second that his teasing had crossed a line.  After all, it had been more than a decade since they had the kind of relationship where Blaine could flirt with Kurt easily.  But Kurt finally gave a chuckle and shook his head.  "Yeah, I think Ill leave the shirt on." 

They both shifted from foot to foot for a moment, and then Kurt said, "So, youre looking..."

"Homeless?"  Blaine supplied. 

Kurt grinned.  "I wasnt going to say that."

"Its true, though."

"No, no.  It suits you, this new look.  You were always so buttoned up around people, even me.  This look expresses that other side of you that was...You always had a side that was...looser.  I got to see it sometimes when..."

His voice trailed off, and Blaine mentally supplied when we were in bed together. Blaine thought about falling back onto the mattress, spent, his curls broken loose from their gel helmet by sweat and Kurts fingers.  Kurts own damp hair falling in his face.  Both of them grinning like idiots, like they had invented sex. 

Kurt must have been thinking about it too, because he looked wistful.  Then he said, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"When the wine spilled on me, you yelled, ‘Charlie!  What was that about?"

Blaines shoulders rose up around his ears in discomfort and he grimaced, "Youll think Im crazy." 

Kurt reached out and touched Blaines arm briefly, "Why dont you try me?"

That ghost of a touch was enough to make Blaine shiver.  Even after all these years his body was still reacting to Kurt, and Blaine suspected that it was more than just memory or habit.  Kurt was beautiful, and every part of Blaine longed to reach for him.  If they had been perfect strangers, Blaine would have wanted him.  Knowing how Kurt felt under him, naked and writhing, Blaine ached for him. 

But that ship had sailed long ago, and Blaine would do well to remember it. 

"Okay," Blaine answered Kurts question, "When I inherited the bar from my Uncle Charlie, I also kind of inherited...his ghost."

"His ghost?"

"I know.  It sounds crazy, like I said.  But stuff happens here, Kurt.  Stuff I cant explain.  Like the wine glass just suddenly falling in your lap." 

"Huh," said Kurt, as though it was something to consider rather than the craziest thing hed ever heard. 

Then Blaine remembered something, "Why did you shout at Finn?"

Kurt ran a hand through his hair, something that Blaine could never recall seeing Kurt do before.  It made his fingers itch to trace the same path.  "Same," Kurt said. 

"Same?"

"Finn does...stuff."

"He...?" Blaines eyes grew wide as realization dawned, "Youre being haunted by the ghost of Finn?"

Kurt shrugged, "No so much me as Rachel."

"What do you mean?"

"Things happen when Rachels around.  You know how Rachel is.  I love her to death, but you can only be around her for so long until you want to pull her hair out.  But since Finn died, every time I finally lose my temper and blow up at her, something bad happens.  A glass tipped into my lap is a favorite trick, like tonight.  Sometimes light bulbs have exploded near my head.  Theres been other stuff."

"So Finn doesnt like it when youre mad at Rachel?"

Kurt shook his head. 

Blaine said grimly, "Charlie doesnt like it when I change the bar."

Kurt pondered this for a minute, "Does he follow you home?"

Blaine considered this.  "No.  Hes only in the bar, I think.  I dont think he can leave.  Does Finn move around?"

"Yeah.  But only where Rachel is.  I dont think hes around me otherwise; it doesnt feel that way."  Kurt was lost in thought for a while, then he said, "What kinds of things does Charlie do?"

"Mostly he just puts stuff back when I change things.  Or he breaks new things.  Other than that, he just has a shot of whiskey every night."

"Seriously?  Whiskey?"

Blaine smiled and nodded, "Bushmills." 

"Wow.  Im not sure that Finn knows he can eat.  Its probably good for me that he doesnt.  It could get expensive." 

They lapsed into silence for a few more minutes as bar patrons with beer-filled bladders pounded on the door and rattled it.  Then Kurt said slowly, "I dont think it was Finn who poured the wine on me."

"Why not?  You said tipping a glass was a favorite trick." 

"Yeah, but its always been water before.  Its never something that will stain.  I feel like hes really careful about that.  Besides, Rachel wasnt anywhere near me when it happened.  And, I wasnt mad at her."

"Yeah, but you werent changing the bar, either, so that leaves out Charlie."

"I guess."

Blaine shrugged after a minute of consideration.  "Maybe it was Charlie.  You were sitting at his table, and he always hated wine.  He was also never a fan of ‘the gays, as he used to call us."

"Great.  Like there arent enough live homophobes; now Ive got to contend with the dead ones, too.  My dry cleaning bill will be outrageous."

Blaine chuckled.  He put out a hand and rested it on Kurts shoulder, "Its nice to be able to talk to you, Kurt.  Ive missed you; you were my best friend.  Im not saying I want to go back to...to what we were, but I miss having you in my life.  Id like to have you back in it."

Kurt stared at Blaine with wide eyes, and for a second he looked pleased.  Then his face clouded over and fell.  He shook his head slowly, "Its nice to see you again, Blaine, but I just...Im happy with my life the way it is.  Maybe we should keep this as a one off."

Blaine opened his mouth to argue, but just then the door fell open and a hipster with unfortunate facial hair stumbled drunkenly in.  He staggered to the urinal. 

Blaine took his hand off of Kurts shoulder, reached out, and caught the door before it could slam shut again. 

He squared his shoulders, "Goodbye, Kurt," he said. "Sorry about your clothes.  You can keep the sweatshirt."

Kurt didnt say anything, and Blaine threaded his way through the crowd and buried himself in his work.