Later that night, after unpacking, calling his father, making sure his stuff was where it needed to be (Rachel had done a good job with it and it was probably a reflection of her guilty conscience that she dedicated so much of her time putting every brooch and ever picture where it belonged), taking a shower and a nap because the day had been nothing if not a shock to the system, Kurt reemerged from his room. A couple of years ago, after many a sleepless night due to impromptu visitors and other embarrassing moments (Kurt had nothing against nudity, as long as he didn't have to see Rachel's bare butt peaking from behind a curtain), Rachel and Kurt had agreed to put up walls and doors to separate their own parts of the loft. It had cost quite a few bucks but it was money well spent.

He pushed his glasses up his nose and made his way to the kitchen. The apartment was quiet and dark but he could hear someone –hopefully his new/temporary roommate and not a robber- tinkering away in the kitchen. As he made his way through the apartment he realized that everything seemed to be in its place. Kurt could see the piano had been pushed under one of the window and he agreed that it was the perfect place for it. There were no more cardboard boxes or suitcases in sight and he was almost certain Sam and Cooper had left.

"Hi," Blaine smiled as Kurt appeared in front of him. He was making himself a sandwich; turkey and mustard.

Kurt paused. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable; it was just that he was never really great with strangers.

"Hi," he replied with a nod and a small smile.

"Sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you. You guys were very quiet. Thank you for that."

Blaine shrugged the comment off. "It's the least I could do after exposing you to my brother."

Kurt chuckled and shook his head. "It was bit weird meeting each other like we did but it wasn't your fault. Circumstances and crazy friends are to blame, Blaine."

"Crazy friends?" Blaine asked as he settled with his plate at the table. Kurt busied himself with making a cup of green tea. He should be hungry, he actually dreamt of food during his nap but the jetlag was still upsetting his stomach.

"You've met Rachel, right?"

Blaine finished chewing before answering. "I did. She was a bit... um, intense but overall very nice."

"That's very diplomatic of you," Kurt shook his head. "But the ugly truth is that she is bonkers. Obviously, you haven't known her long enough to realize this but if it helps put things into perspective I could for example tell you that I knew nothing about you until the moment I stepped through this door this morning." Blaine turned around in his chair to gape at Kurt. Kurt nodded his head sadly. "True story."

"But... but, what? How? I mean she assured me that she told you everything and that you were happy with her 'selection' –her words not mine," Blaine stumbled through his explanation with an adorably confused expression. Kurt was going to have to learn how to get immune to that face.

"Don't ask me. I've been friends with her since high school and I still don't know how her brain works. I guess she got off on a power trip because there was an ocean between us and short of teleporting myself to New York, there was nothing I could do," Kurt said finishing his preparations and settling opposite Blaine at the table. He mentally patted himself in the back for barely hesitating.

"Well, I promise I'm not a sociopath," Blaine said solemnly.

"See, now that's exactly what a sociopath would say. How can I trust you?"

Blaine pursed his lips and Kurt let him collect his thought while he tried not to gaze into his warm eyes for too long. It was a struggle. They were the color of honey right then but who knew what color they'd be tomorrow morning when the sun was shining through the windows? Kurt shook his head slightly to erase these silly thoughts.

"I could tell you more about myself?" Blaine prompted.

"That would be a good start considering I wasn't sure to which gender you belonged to a few hours ago."

Blaine's eyes widened. "I hope my gender doesn't offend you," he said with a small chuckle.

Oh, if only you knew. But he probably did. They'd only spend a handful of minutes together but most people didn't need more than that to label Kurt.

"I'll live," he replied while hiding a smile behind his mug. "So, facts. Bring it."

"Ok. Hm, let's see... My name's Blaine Anderson. You should probably know that. I'm 22. I'm originally from Ohio. I'm studying at N.Y.U to become a teacher. In fact I start student teaching in September- kindergarten, super excited," he said this with the goofiest of smiles and Kurt could totally picture him surrounded by 3 to 6 year-olds, color crayons and juice boxes. "I am allergic to cats which is probably the cruelest thing fate has ever done to me because I am kind of a sucker for small animals. I drink coffee like I need it to live. I am Sagittarian. Music is the blood in my veins so I'm going to preemptively apologize for my more than eclectic tastes. I read a lot. I'm not a loud person but I have days when I can't stand still for more than ten seconds so I promise to always try to be a respectful roommate. I'm also gay," he finished while peeling a piece of turkey from his sandwich and bringing it to his mouth. Kurt tried not to choke on the sip of tea he'd just taken.

"Wow. Okay. You don't beat around the bush."

"I don't see the point," Blaine said with a shrug and Kurt liked that a lot. He didn't know Blaine, not even after the extensive lists of random facts he'd just spewed but he seemed to be honest and comfortable in his own skin and that was something Kurt could only admire. Blaine smiled a gentle smile and put his sandwich on its plate before crossing his arms on the table and leaning over it. "Your turn."

"Okay. I'm Kurt Hummel, 23, also from Ohio-which, hm, small word, right? I'm an intern at Vogue . com just back from a fifteen months internship at Vogue Paris. Be jealous," he said, one eyebrow raised playfully.

"Oh, I am."

"I love music as well and even though I don't own any Katy Perry album, I can see the appeal. I'm more of a show tunes and oldies kinda guy. I try to make the most of my days so I'm rarely at the apartment except for sleep and Sundays. Sundays are for sleep and food. I have lived with Rachel I-Love-The-Sound-Of-My-Own-Voice Berry for the last five years and yes the fifteen months in Paris count as well. You wouldn't believe the phone bills we cried over. So, don't worry about being too loud. My ears and I are immune. I'm a cheesecake enthusiast. I don't share my cheesecakes unless you're very nice. And what a coincidence? I'm gay, too."

"Funny how that happens," Blaine said with an eye-roll and Kurt realized he saw through Rachel's ploy as well. "Queer, even."

Kurt's initial response to that was to roll his eyes but he couldn't help the way his lips twitched into a smile. "I have a feeling you're a huge dork. A bad feeling."

"It's one of my finest qualities."

"We'll see about that. In any case, welcome to your new apartment for the next six to twelve months," Kurt with a toast of his tea mug.

"Thank you. I'm certain it'll be an interesting adventure."

Interesting didn't even begin to cover it.

...

From: alexandermcqueenisnotdead

To: theonlyberryinmyfamilytree

Subject: revoked best-friendship card.

If I were you, I would sleep with one eye open. You never know when revenge will be served but let me tell you, it will more painful than your reindeer sweater collection ever was.

Not-Talking-To-You-Ever-Again Kurt.

P.S: did you order him from Santa or something?

...

From Blaine: Hey!

To Blaine: Hi... How are you?

From Blaine: Fine. You?

From Kurt: Fine Thanks.

To Blaine: Did you need something?

From Blaine: No. I'd just realized I've had your number for a few days now and we haven't exchanged texts yet.

To Blaine: Oh. That's rather sweet.

From Blaine: XD. So how is Ohio?

To Blaine: Unchanged. How's the loft?

From Blaine: Still standing.

To Blaine: So you did read the Terms of Agreement.

From Blaine: I'm nothing if not thorough. ;)

...

It was a short but very hot summer in New York City. Kurt got the last two weeks of July off in order to relax before starting work again. Isabelle still sent him daily e-mails and texts but only half of them were work related. He went to visit Burt and Carole who practically spent the three days he was in Ohio cuddling him to death. Santana and Mercedes were frequent visitors. He managed to get caught up with the latest gossip both at work and amongst his friends. Tina and Mike were at it again and he was so very glad to hear it. Mercedes broke up with Jack (the bass player from the band she sometimes worked with) which was also a very good thing and Quinn had graduated from Yale with flying colors and minimal scandal to her name. Finn was in summer school again to catch up with his degree and Kurt was so proud of his idiotic brother; he knew teaching was what Finn was born to do. Music education was a perfect fit for him.

And then there was Blaine. Blaine and his charmingly dashing personality. His soft smile and child-like laughter. His shining eyes and beautiful hands. Blaine and his stupidly generous heart and unbearable talent. Blaine and the way everyone liked him, even Santana. (He caught them dancing and singing around the apartment one afternoon. Beyonce's End Of Time had never been used as blackmail material before but Kurt was never one to ignore a challenge.) People like Blaine weren't supposed to be real. They were fantasy, myth, beautiful songs, gorgeous stories but never blood and flesh and, oh god, never so alluring.

And for the love of God, the man was so freaking nice he was putting Mike Chang to shame. He was always so polite and considerate; Kurt always got flustered and flushed a deep red around him. Who knew decency was such a turn on?

They were still slightly awkward around each other (shower-time was a whole new level of uncomfortable) but for two strangers, they managed their new lives together quite well. Sharing space wasn't the ordeal Kurt had imagined it would be. More often than not, Blaine played the piano while Kurt lounged on the sofa, going through magazines or sketching. It was quiet and very nice. Once or twice already, they had stocked junk food, pulled on their PJs and marathoned the latest atrocity reality-TV had to offer. It had been fun because Kurt's bitching could only be rivaled by Blaine's snarky commentary.

It was very strange to go from Rachel's brass personality and familiarity to Blaine's easy but foreign presence. Sometimes, Kurt forgot himself and went into Rachel's room to ask for the whereabouts of this or that only to be confronted with the image of an almost sleepy Blaine reading on the armchair under the window. He'd stumble on his words and try not blush while apologizing. Blaine would wave it off and, with a voice raspy with little use but still so very gentle and sweet, he'd indicate where this or that was.

Blaine Anderson wasn't a typical boy. He was tidy and clean. He didn't pout or grumble about having to do the dishes or cook a meal. On the contrary, he smiled and danced and sang his way through every chore. The bathroom was never dirty. There was no misplaced hair product or towels on the floor. He knew how to use a stove and he always left the kitchen spotless even after the chocolate mousse incident a few days ago. He even helped Kurt when he wasn't supposed to. He said it was a good way to bond because you never really knew someone unless you cooked dinner with them. And damn him and his ridiculous eyebrows but Blaine was right. One night, they had cooked a simple chicken pot-pie with a strawberry cheesecake as desert and they had spent a wonderful evening. It had been filled with laughter, music and anecdotes about their respective glee clubs. For Kurt who had spent a few of his formative years living with Finn Hudson, it was like a wave of fresh air. Literal fresh air.

There were also Blaine's friends. Sam was basically a permanent fixture in their apartment. Blaine kept apologizing about it but Kurt didn't mind. Sam was one of the nicest guys he'd ever met. He was a dork of epic proportions and it only got worse when Blaine was around but it was cute and maybe Kurt was biased but Blaine in his Ravenclaw T-shirt was all kinds of wonderful. Cooper was back in L.A but he never missed an opportunity to text them. Blaine swore up and down he never gave him Kurt's phone number so the mystery of how he got it still kept Kurt up at night sometimes. It was alright; his texts though quite ridiculous were never mean or noisy. Kurt also met David, an old Dalton buddy who started practicing Law this summer in New York. He was laid-back, hilarious and quite charming in his own right.

All in all, Kurt's life had been invaded by cute, charming, interesting guys and quite frankly, he didn't know if he should freak-out or sit back and enjoy it while it lasted. The latter seemed like the best option.

...

From Blaine: Hey, how do you like your coffee?

To Blaine: Hot and directly transfused to my blood.

From Blaine: Bad day?

To Blaine: Bad week, more like it.

From Blaine: So maybe a little coffee would help.

To Blaine: We have coffee here.

From Blaine: Ah but is it Café Court good?

To Blaine: Bring it to meeeeeee.

From Blaine: I knew that would work. What's your order?

To Blaine: Non-fat Mocha. You're my hero.

From Blaine: This is just an excuse to avoid another hour of Sam and Mercedes making googly eyes at each other.

To Blaine: Less heroic. Still appreciated.

From Blaine: :D

...