When August rolled in, Kurt went back to work. Getting back into the old routine was both surprising and terrifying. He'd spent sixteen months away and in an enterprise as prolific and ever-changing as Vogue it seemed like a lifetime. Of course, he kept himself à jour as he was working for Vogue still but New York was another machine. It was another energy and another crew. It was mind-bogging how much had changed while he was away.

His desk wasn't his desk anymore. Isabelle had moved all of his stuff (not that there was much of it) to a (slightly) bigger cubicle closer to her own office. The change was welcome but he couldn't help but feel a bit sad that he hadn't gotten to say good-bye to his old spot. It was miserably small but it had been his for years and he felt a little ripped off.

Most of the people he used to hang out with were gone. They'd been interns for the most part and for a lot of them the internship was either a steppingstone for bigger things or a wake-up call of monumental proportions. He still had Isabelle and she wasn't the only one he got along with but being the new-old guy was unsettling.

People were treating him differently. He wasn't just some new undeserving kid from nowhere who had stolen their spotlight by befriending Isabelle. Things weren't so simple anymore. He had been an intern for Vogue Paris and that seemed to have changed things. Never mind the fact that he'd been an intern at Vogue . com for about four years before he left. Paris changed things.

There were those who had followed his progress in France and who were quite impressed with the results. Some of them even stopped looking at him as if he was poisoning the whole office with the stench his Ohioness. There were those who looked at him with envy, a kind of desperation behind their eyes that he hoped no one would ever see in his. Snarky comments and reluctance to have anything to do with him were more obvious than ever. And then there were the new interns. Those were scary. Their obnoxious ass-kissing was driving him to the edge of sanity. Kurt didn't suffer fools easily and his time spent in the middle of them made him a difficult person to be with.

The first week back was a test to his endurance and patience. He was grateful to Isabelle who was his lighthouse through everything. She was so happy to have him back that she brought him lunch for a whole week. However, he was Kurt Hummel and if he survived McKinley, he pretty much could survive anything. So he powered through the bullshit and smirked in the face of their inability of making him feel less than what he was. It helped that he actually loved his job and everything crazy it entailed.

The biggest surprise of them all came from Blaine.

When Blaine moved in, Kurt hadn't known what to expect. He'd seemed like a good guy but most people are capable of playing nice until they found the perfect opportunity to stab you in the back. So while he'd been smiling and trying to be the best welcoming roommate, Kurt had simply been waiting for the other shoe to drop. He'd just hoped it wouldn't weigh too much and that it wouldn't fall on his head. Kurt couldn't be blamed; the guy had been hand-picked by Rachel.

But days, weeks went by and Blaine only seemed to get better with time.

Their apartment was always buzzing with life. Music was always playing and though sometimes Blaine's music taste was endearingly weird, he had a profound respect for the art. Kurt's favorite Blaine album was Walk the Moon. It wasn't his usual taste but Blaine had a tendency to sing along and his rendition of Shiver, Shiver was something Kurt wasn't about to forget anytime soon. When it wasn't music, it was laughter. Blaine was funny is the most subtle and ridiculous ways and he seemed to find Kurt just as funny. They could spend days bantering back and forth about the silliest of things, often driving their friends crazy because they were left out of the jokes.

And when it wasn't music or laughter, it was simple words. They talked all the time. There didn't seem to be something Blaine wasn't interested in. The more they talked the more they wanted to keep talking. Words had become precious; something Kurt locked inside him until the moment he got to share them with Blaine. Nothing mattered until it was told to Blaine. Blaine, who was practically a stranger but who seemed to understand him like no one had before. The art of conversation, with flowing hyperbole, subtle irony, flamboyant metaphors and modern poetry gave Kurt's life a new tempo, a new rhythm; one that left him reeling and breathless.

Kurt learned so much about Blaine in such a short amount of time. He knew what kind of shampoo he used, he knew what album Blaine listened to when he was feeling anxious (Mika or Queen), he knew he had stacks of books waiting to be read and yet every other day a new amazon order was delivered. He knew that Blaine had always wanted to live in New York but had gone to California first to be closer to his brother. He knew the reason he left was a bad break-up. He knew Blaine needed to perform to be happy but he didn't need it to be his bread-maker. In fact, he'd rather stay an amateur and work with kids. He knew Blaine had a collection of bow-ties that could rival his scarves one. He knew he loved his parents but he got along better with his mother. He knew that no matter what, Blaine was decent person; one that never put his happiness above others'. Blaine had a temper but he never let it get the better of him. (That scowl of his was quite terrifying but so far it had only been directed at bigoted politicians or his brother.)

And Blaine knew just much about him, if not more. It was so easy to talk with him. They'd lose hours on the couch, chatting, laughing, gossiping and reminiscing and never see them pass.

It mattered in ways Kurt couldn't properly express without losing himself. Blaine's support was everything he needed.

Kurt didn't see it coming but he had become Blaine's friend. If nothing else proved it, the daily coffee from Café Court did.

......

From: bdanderson@nuy.uni.com

To: blondechameleon@live.com; pointandloveanderson@gmail.com, alexandermcqueenisnotdead@vogue.com; lawyerup@live.com; straightupbitch@hotmail.com; ohhelltothenojones@yahoo.com; tcchang@tisch.uni.com

Subject: gather round children

Hey people,

Remember that gig I auditioned for a few weeks ago and that I might have mentioned about 6 billion times a day ever since. Well, it's happening. Next Wednesday. *squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee*

I hope to see you all there but I understand if you can't make it on such a short notice. Tell everyone around you because the more the merrier, right?

See you all next Wednesday at 8:30 @ The Bella Note. See maps attached to this e-mail for more info.

Or you know see you at the loft since you all practically live there. This e-mail was pretty pointless, wasn't it?

Ah well.

Toodles!

Blaine.

P.S: Not to pressure anyone or anything but this is kind of a big deal. I hope to make this gig more than a one-time thing so, if you're free, please come. And no, I am not above begging.

...

"Morning," Blaine mumbled as he padded sleepily to the coffee machine. Kurt looked up from his morning bagel and tried not to coo at Blaine's appearance. He was wearing a black T-shirt with a pair of light sweatpants, his hair was the adorable mess of curls it was every morning before he managed to tame it with product and his feet were bare. He looked like the perfect cuddle buddy. It was quite distracting, really but it was the perfect way to start the day. Kurt was due to work in an hour and he loved his job but lately he'd been hoping for more home time.

"Good morning," he said instead. "Nervous?"

"Ugh," Blaine groaned as he let his head hung low. "Don't remind me. I still have twelve hours ahead of me. Just enough time to lose my mind but please, I beg of you, let me have my coffee first," he pleaded pathetically. Kurt laughed. "Oh! Go right ahead, laugh at my misery."

He finished preparing his coffee, grabbed a bagel from the basket on the counter and came to join Kurt at the table. It gave just enough time for Kurt to stop laughing and control his expression into a more supportive one. He almost laughed again at the dejected and wounded look on his roommate's face.

"Blaine."

A pout.

"Blaiiiiine."

A frown.

"You're going to be amazing tonight."

Finally, eye contact. Unsure but hopeful and so earnest it made Kurt's breath stutter in his throat. Kurt extended a hand on the table and without hesitation, Blaine took hold of it.

It had become a thing in the last few days. At first, touches of any kind had been accidental: fingers brushing while passing each other the salt at the dinner table, feet brushing during TV time, Blaine squeezing himself behind Kurt in the kitchen, Kurt falling asleep on Blaine's shoulder after he made him watch the first star wars trilogy (so what if he already knew the movies almost by heart because Finn had decided years ago that no brother of his was going to spend another minute being a 'Georges Lucas virgin'? Blaine didn't need to know that), Kurt preventing a nasty fall by catching Blaine's shoulders as he tripped over his own feet.

All brief or unconscious touches that were never deliberate but that still burned in the gentlest way. However as the days passed and the two men grew comfortable around each other, the boundaries had changed a little. Kurt had discovered pretty early that Blaine was a very tactile person. He liked hugs, he accepted the girls' kisses on his cheek with a delighted smile, and there were pats, light punches and brotherly hugs between him and Sam. Kurt also realized that the reason Blaine wasn't as touchy-feely with him as he was with the rest of his friends was because of, well, Kurt. He'd always been so contained, so happy in his own space that most of the time people left a wide breadth of space between themselves and Kurt. Quite frankly, he'd never felt left out. Not until recently. It was the most baffling thing but his heart squeezed in disappointment every time he saw Blaine shy away from touching him. So, he took matter into his own hand-literally- and the day he got Blaine's e-mail about his gig, Kurt welcomed him home with a congratulation hug. It had been brief but heartfelt and it had changed things. Blaine still hesitated to initiate contact sometimes but he was more than happy to reciprocate whatever Kurt started. Kurt tried not to think of all the directions this could lead them to.

"Amazing," he repeated with a silly over-the-top southern accent that made a glorious smile bloom on Blaine's face. After a few weeks of living together, Kurt knew how to get his roommate to relax.

"You'll be there, right?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "And subject myself to your hippy kind of pop? I don't think so, Mister!"

Blaine's laughter transported him throughout the rest of the day.

....

The Bella Note was a small bar in the Village. It seemed to be well established in the community and the bar was packed with regulars and people who'd heard of open mic night. The group of friends had gathered around a couple of comfortable tables not far from the stage. Sam, Cooper (who despite Blaine's insistence that he didn't need to make the trip just for this had flown over from California), Santana, David, Mercedes, Tina, Mike (who were both madly in love with Blaine) and Kurt had gathered as much of their and Blaine's friends as possible and the crowd was bound to be a little biased but it was worth it for the smile on Blaine's face when he appeared on stage, guitar in hand. He looked nothing short of perfect in a red polo shirt, brown bow-tie and a pair of tight black jeans that left very little to the imagination. Kurt took a deep breath and willed himself not to mortify himself in front of a whole crowd of strangers by doing something idiotic like swooning.

"Good evening," Blaine said in his smooth, happy voice. Cheers erupted from the crowd, it was mostly Sam, Cooper and Santana but they weren't the only ones. "My name's Blaine. I'm going to sing for you tonight. I... I hope you enjoy," he finished with a small nod before sitting on the stool at the center of the stage.

He started with a delightful rendition of Hey Ya that had the crowd on its feet and dancing in a matter of seconds. He kept the rhythm going with He Wasn't Man Enough which had Santana and Tina in stitches. He then proceeded to charm the pants off of everyone in the bar with Witchcraft. His voice was smooth, rich and utterly captivating. Mercedes kept fanning herself while throwing Kurt wide-eyed glances. Swooning was actually becoming a frightening possibility. The bar could have burned to the ground and Kurt wouldn't have torn his eyes away. He was used to good (and sometimes not so good) performers. Show choir competitions, glee club, NYADA showcases, Broadway shows, concerts; Kurt wasn't a stranger to talented people. What Blaine was doing on that stage with only his guitar and his voice was nothing short of magical.

"The next song is a personal favorite of mine. So, relax, grab your lover and don't let them go," Blaine said with a smirk and Kurt was sure he wouldn't be able to walk home after that sultry look.

If you ever change your mind

About leaving, leaving me behind

Baby, bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin'

Bring it on home to me

"Boy! Shorty knows the way to someone's panties, doesn't he?" Santana muttered in his ears and Kurt was so dumbstruck that he couldn't find it in him to berate her. Besides, she had a point. He was pretty sure half of the crowd was ready to go home with Blaine.

But he's coming home with me...

The thought came unbidden but it lodged itself squarely in Kurt's mind and refused to go away. Kurt had heard Blaine sing before tonight. They'd been living together for over six weeks now and Blaine hadn't been lying when he said music was the blood in his veins. He was always singing, always playing the piano or the guitar, and always humming unknown tunes. This, however, was completely different. He wasn't playing around, passing the time or simply singing. He was performing; laying his soul bare for everyone to see. It was breath-taking and Kurt couldn't get enough of it.

It was obvious he wasn't the only one. The crowd was back on their feet clapping and singing along. Some were dancing with their friends or significant others while others looked like Blaine was the materialization to every fantasy they'd ever had. They were all having a fantastic time and Kurt was happy for Blaine; hopefully it would mean more nights like this one.

The song came to an end and the crowd went crazy with excitement and cheers. Blaine had the most bashful and goofy smile on his face and Kurt's own cheek would probably hurt from all the smiling he'd been doing. He might have been imagining the many ways to get Blaine out of his bowtie but it didn't mean he wasn't appreciative of the show.

"Thank you. How about we slow things down a little people, huh? Give us a bit of time to cool off, right?" Blaine said with another enticing smirk before sitting back down. The first few notes of Both Sides Now filled the air and Kurt smiled softly and let the song (and Blaine's voice) transport him. When the song ended, Kurt caught the girls and Cooper wiping away tears. It was only when Tina passed him a tissue that he realized he'd been crying as well.

"Thank you. Wow, really, thanks. Um... For my last song, I'd like to call some of my friends up to the stage. I'm new to the city and these people have welcomed me into their lives with open arms and it wouldn't be the same if I didn't get to share this special night with them as well," Blaine said. He put the guitar down on its stand and got off the small stage before making his way to his friends' table. He made a bee-line for Kurt who glared at him with the whole force of his embarrassment.

"I am not going on that stage," he hissed.

"Oh boo-hoo, you big baby," Tina said before grabbing one of his arm and tugging him up. Blaine grinned at her before taking hold of Kurt's other hand and leading him to the stage.

"I will murder you in your sleep," Kurt said as he straightened his shirt watching as the rest of the group gathered around.

"Kurt, performing is second nature to you. It may have been a few years but you've still got it," Mercedes said. A few microphones were found and brought to them as the cheering crowd looked on.

"I hate being unprepared," Kurt all but pouted.

Blaine smiled gently. The look on his face was so open and reassuring Kurt almost forgot to be put-out.

"You're going to be amazing," Blaine assured while squeezing Kurt's hand who decided right there and then that people like Blaine should be outlawed for the sake of sanity.

"Yeah, chill, dude! We got this!" Sam said before clapping his shoulder. "What are we singing again?" he asked making Mercedes giggle. Kurt threw her a surprised look but decided to store the information for later investigation.

"This would work better with a drum set but I'm sure we'll do," Blaine announced to the audience. Kurt shook his head in both disgust and self-pity at his charm.

Blaine played the first notes of We Are Young and Santana took the first lines with a smile only performing with friends could bring out of her. Kurt harmonized and swayed in rhythm with the music. He put his arms around Blaine and Tina, following the lead of the rest of the group; he smiled and didn't miss the way Mercedes snuggled closed to Sam who had an awestruck expression every time she belted out a perfect note.

It wasn't perfect –Cooper was trying a bit too hard to be in the spotlight, they had to share the microphones and they were still a bit emotional from Both Sides Now, puffy eyes and raspy voices- but it was great anyway. The crowd was singing along, their voices carried well and it was lovely in a way only friendship and music could be.

So if by the time the bar closes

And you feel like falling down

I'll carry you home,

Tonight.

They finished the song and for a second, before the cheers and applause, before the hugging and the teasing, before the smiles and the shoulder-pats, Blaine looked at Kurt and put his hand on his heart, a silent thank you, a message of kinship and understanding that pulsed through every fiber of Kurt's being and left him more alive than he remembered being a long while.