“Kuuu-urt!”

Kurt stood in Isabelle's doorway. “Coffee time?”

“Yes, please.” She extended another twenty.

Kurt bounced up and down on his toes, “Pleeeeeeease let me go to Starbucks.”

“You didn't like Manhattan Mocha?”

Kurt crossed his arms petulantly, “I don't want to talk about it.”

Isabelle gasped and brought her hand up to her mouth, “You saw him!”

Kurt played it coy and pushed his toe around in the carpet, “I don't know who you're talking about.”

“You saw the hunky barista! Isn't he yummy?”

“Yes, he's yummy. And he's clearly straight.”

“You don't know that.”

“Isabelle, I'm a homosexual man in New York. I have finely tuned gay-dar. That guy is as straight as a Nebraska highway.”

“Well, it never hurts to look. Pleeeeeeeease, Kurt? For me? I'll pay again.”

“Ooooooooh,” Kurt bent at the knees as he considered. “All right,” he relented.

“Goody!” Isabelle clapped her hands. “I want an iced hazelnut macchiato.”

“Why aren't you as big as a house?”

“You're back!” Blaine exclaimed happily as Kurt approached. “I saw you coming, so I started something special for you. I'm making you a Café de Olla. It's a special recipe I learned in Mexico. I use real piloncillo, orange zest, cloves and cinnamon. It takes five minutes, but it's worth it. Besides,” Blaine's eyes smoldered, “it gives me four extra minutes to talk to the beautiful man with the beautiful clothes.”

Kurt had never heard of a Café de Olla, and he didn't know what the heck a piloncillo was, but it didn't sound like chocolate. “Yes,” he said. Why did he keep saying that? “I need an iced hazelnut macchiato, too, for the boss.” Again, he had no trouble ordering for Isabelle, dammit.

“For you, anything,” Blaine smiled.

If that were true, I would have a mocha!

Blaine began work on the macchiato, humming again. “You never told me your name,” he said.

“Oh, um, Kurt. I'm Kurt.”

“What do you do at Vogue, Kurt?”

Kurt felt a small frisson of delight at hearing his name on the sexy barista's lips. “Oh, I'm an intern, so I do whatever. I'm also a student at NYADA.”

“Really? Wow. That's a tough school to get into. I'm a student, too.”

“You are?” Kurt didn't know why he was surprised. He realized, in his head, Blaine was just always in a coffee truck. That was stupid.

“Yeah. I'm going to law school at Columbia.”

“So you just work here part time?”

“Something like that. Yeah.” Blaine pressed the filter down on a French press. He poured the black liquid into a cup and passed it to Kurt. “What do you think? You have to drink it while it's really hot.”

Kurt was not exactly an adventurous eater…or drinker, but one look at the hopeful expression on Blaine's face had him pulling the piping hot drink to his lips. It was spicy and delicious and really sweet. It also burned Kurt's tongue. “Mmmmm,” said Kurt outwardly, while inwardly he was calculating the calories in a mug of marshmallow cream, because this drink was definitely sweeter than that.

Kurt paid Blaine for both drinks and bid him goodbye.

Once again, Blaine's concoction didn't make it half way to Kurt's office before it found its way into a trash can.