When Blaine got off the phone, it was eleven.  He had five hours before he would see Kurt, and that was exactly the amount of time needed to completely freak out about it.  He worked off his nervous energy by trimming his beard into something short and well-shaped rather than his usual crazed mountain man look.  He got his hair cut and gelled it back like he had in high school.  It looked completely stupid, so he hopped back into the shower and rinsed out the gel; then he put just enough gel back into his hair to keep it from frizzing. 

He took the subway to Manhattan and bought new jeans and a silky black turtleneck at Barneys that he paired with a gray cardigan.  This outfit came after trying on and discarding nearly a hundred others, and the total cost probably wiped out all the money he had saved over the last few years by not buying clothes.  The sales clerk assisting him was amazingly patient and actually got caught up in the whole Im-going-to-see-my-ex-boyfriend-so-I-have-to-look-fabulous mission.  The final outfit hit the sweet spot between well dressed and not trying too hard. 

Before he left his apartment for the bar, Blaine slipped on a charcoal wool peacoat that he only wore for dressier occasions and wrapped a bright blue scarf around his neck.  He rubbed on Artisan cologne, which required taking the scarf off and putting it back on again.  His honest appraisal when he had finished was that he looked and smelled pretty good, but he knew that Kurt would look better.  

A tiny voice in his head chided him that Kurt was only coming to pick up a brooch, and that Blaine shouldnt do anything to dress up for a man who had made it clear that he had no interest in him--not even as a friend.  Blaine considered changing back into his worn, faded jeans and an old sweatshirt, but he looked in the mirror again and couldnt bring himself to make the switch.  He looked good.  Damn good.  Hed date himself.  His look was half man bait, half armor.  It was the latter half that would, hopefully, protect him from making a fool of himself yet again. 

Half an hour before four, Blaine camped out in a coffee shop across the street from Charlies Tavern.  In his seat by the window, he could see Kurt approach from the subway station so that Blaine could time his arrival so he would just happen to be opening the bar when Kurt got there.  It wasnt good to look too eager, right? 

At 4:02, Blaine saw Kurt walking down the street, and his heart began beating fast.  He stood quickly, checked his appearance in the reflection of the window, dropped his coffee cup in the trash, popped a mint into his mouth, and crossed the street, being careful to take slow, measured steps so he wouldnt appear to be hurrying. 

He was bent down unlocking the gate when Kurt drew up alongside him. 

"Hi," Kurt called out in greeting. 

Blaine pulled the lock out of the grommet and replied breezily, "Oh, hi, Kurt.  Just give me a second, okay?" 

Blaine was cool.  He had this. 

He reached down and pulled up hard on the gate.  It slipped out of his hand mid-pull, and his arm flew up and hit him in his own face. 

"Ouch!" he sputtered involuntarily, staggering a little. 

Kurts hand flew up to cover his mouth, which appeared to be grinning.  "Are you okay?" he asked, slight giggle to his voice. 

Blaine nodded, red as a beet, and finished shoving up the gate a little unnecessarily roughly. 

He unlocked the front door and held it open.  "Please come in," he indicated with a hand. 

"Thank you for finding my brooch, and..." Kurt began as he swept past Blaine into the bar.  He turned around to look at Blaine at the same time that Blaine pulled the door closed and turned on the light, "...and, wow, you look great."

Kurts wide eyes suggested that he hadnt actually meant to say that. 

Blaine couldnt help his own mouth from quirking up at the corners into a satisfied smile.  "Thanks," he replied, looking down at his outfit, "This old thing." 

They stood there for a minute, just taking each other in. Finally Blaine said, "Well, Ill just get your..." he flapped a hand by way of finishing the sentence. 

"Thank you," Kurt replied politely. 

Blaine retrieved the brooch from behind the bar and came back intent on handing it to Kurt. 

"The brooch.  It was my mothers you know."

Blaine paused mid-stride, "Oh, Kurt.  I didnt know."

Kurt gave Blaine a crooked smile and shrugged, "When I was a little kid and she would wear it, I thought it was so beautiful.  I guess now its a little dated, and its too cheap to be a fabulous estate piece, but Im still fond of it." 

By now Blaine had arrived back to stand in front of Kurt and he held out the brooch, palm up in his hand. 

Kurts cool fingers skimmed over Blaines palm as he picked it up, and Blaine shivered from the touch. 

Then he noticed that Kurts hands were shaking as he tried to pin the brooch to his lapel. 

"Here, let me," Blaine said softly, taking the brooch from Kurts trembling fingers and pressing closer.  He pushed the pin through the soft cashmere of Kurts coat lapel, making sure that the clasp was completely fastened before releasing it from his grasp. 

"You smell good," Kurt said, a little breathy before Blaine could step away. 

Blaine brought his head up, and they were nearly nose to nose, the tension palpable around them.   They stood in that frozen tableaux, and Blaine thought for a second that Kurt was going to kiss him, but then Kurt stepped back, and Blaine reminded himself that this wasnt one of those moments.  Kurt had just come for his mothers brooch, not for Blaine, for his mothers broach. 

Blaine cleared his throat, but it was Kurt who spoke first, "Thanks, Blaine."

"Youre welcome."

"Well I guess I should..." Kurt flapped his hands awkwardly. 

"Would you like a drink?" 

Oh my God, where did that come from? 

Kurt looked at Blaine who continued, ""I have some fairly reasonable wine."

Kurt grinned, "Way to sell it, Blaine.  Would you like some wine?  Its broadly feasible."

"Its decidedly mediocre." 

"Its not uninteresting." 

The both laughed, and Kurt nodded.  "Some wine would be nice.  I have a little time."  He punctuated his last sentence by looking at his watch. 

"Great."  Blaine bounded behind the bar, shucked his coat and scarf, and grabbed two wine glasses.  He also picked up a bottle of wine that had been opened the night before so the cork stuck out of the top, stained red around the edges.  He put the two glasses on a table and poured the wine, taking the seat opposite Kurt in a booth far away from Table 6. 

They each took a sip, and then Blaine realized that he couldnt think of a thing to say.  Kurt must have thought the same, because he said, "Wow, this is harder than I thought.  I guess its been a long time."

Blaine nodded.  "Well, you were always good at speaking your mind, so why dont you just say what youre thinking." 

Kurt looked pensive for a moment.  Then he sucked in a breath and said, "I was thinking that Im kind of glad we broke up."

"Oh, thanks," Blaine responded flatly. 

Kurt waived his hands, "No, not like that.  I mean, just...we were so young.  There were things I needed to learn in order to grow up.  Im not sure I would have if wed..." His voice trailed off and there was silence between them for a minute.  Then Kurt continued, "Its just...adolescence was so hard, and I think I kind of hated myself a lot of the time.  Im starting to like who I am, finally, and I think who we are gets forged mostly by the hard times.  It hurt so badly when...but I learned so much."

Blaine considered Kurts words with honest introspection, "Yeah, me too." 

They fell into silence again, and then Blaine asked the question that was so obvious he couldnt believe he hadnt thought of it earlier.  "So what have you been doing the last ten years, Kurt?" 

Over the next half an hour, they finally chatted easily.  Kurt told Blaine about his work as a costume designer and how he still went to audition after audition, but he didnt have much luck convincing directors to cast him in any role other than the gay best friend.  Blaine told Kurt about graduating Julliard, planning a career somehow as a pianist but then ending up with the bar, instead. 

Eventually Kurt looked at his watch and grimaced.  "I really have to go." 

Kurt stood to pull on his coat, and Kurt started to come around the booth to help him, but just then the phone next to the cash register rang.  Blaine excused himself to answer it, reaching across the bar to grab the land line. 

"Hello?"  Blaine paused, frowned, and repeated, "Hello?  Is anyone there?  Hello?"

Blaine listened down a line that was filled with static.  As he strained to hear if there was a caller on the end, a drop of water fell from the ceiling and hit him on the head.  Blaines eyes went up, but he couldnt see the source of the water.  As he scanned the ceiling, he saw something else, though. 

The ancient light fixture above Kurts head was swaying dangerously, working loose from its mooring in the ceiling. 

"Kurt!" Blaine shouted in warning, dropping the phone and sprinting across the floor.  With a leap, he flung himself at Kurt, knocking him to the ground as the fixture came loose from the ceiling, plaster and dust raining down on them. 

As the last of the detritus hit the floor, Blaine craned his head to look up.  The light fixture was dangling about six feet above them, but it had not completely come loose.  Kurt hadnt been in any real immediate danger, because the short wiring kept the fixture from crashing all the way to the ground. 

With the danger over, Blaine turned back to Kurt and suddenly realized where he was.  On the floor.  Prone on top of Kurt.  He took in the shocked expression on Kurts face, and, suddenly, Blaine was hyper-aware of Kurts body pressed into his.  It was warm and hard and undeniably masculine. 

It felt like home.

Kurt inhaled sharply, and Blaines eyes were drawn to Kurts lips.  While he watched, Kurt pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and bit down on it. 

Blaines impulses took over his better judgment.  Eyes locked with Kurts, Blaines mouth began descending slowly onto the lips of the man under him, magnetized by the lure of Kurts wide mouth.  Kurts eyes widened, but he didnt move.  Instead, he released his bottom lip from his teeth and parted his mouth a little, forming a small "o." 

Just as Blaines lips were about to capture Kurts with his own, Kurt wrenched his head away with a strangled, whispered, "No!"  He twisted under Blaine until his body was free of the other mans. 

Brushing the dust from his clothes, Kurt scrambled to his feet, and Blaine followed suit more slowly.  "Kurt..." Blaine began, but Kurt cut him off. 

"Im sorry, Blaine.  I just cant."  His head swiveled around, and he looked slightly panicked.  "I have to go."    

And then Kurt was out the door and out of the bar.