Blaine worked at TCC four times a week. Kurt knew this not only because the dark-haired boy had told him so, but also because four times in the next week, he just so happened to crave coffee specifically from TCC. And who could blame him, really? The place had delicious mochas... and the view wasn't so bad, either.

Blaine would always greet him with a smile and sparkling eyes, he would always ask how his day was going, and he would always, always write something just underneath the little checkboxes on his cup. Tuesday it was 'thanks a latte,' and Thursday it was 'livin' la vida mocha.' on Friday, the only thing he'd written was 'you have a nice smile :-)' which had made Kurt's heart do a litte flip-flop in his chest, but he decided to pretend that he'd never felt that. He didn't know why he was so impossibly in denial when it came to the golden-eyed barista. Blaine was... gorgeous, yeah. There was no denying that. He was also totally sweet, and always seemed to genuinely care about how his day was going, which was more than he could say for just about anyone else in his life. Maybe it was because he still barely knew the guy, maybe it was because he could very easily be straight, or have a boyfriend, or be a serial killer. Or maybe it was because, beyond the scribbled notes and small conversations that took place in the three minutes it took for his coffee to be mixed, Blaine wasn't making any move to get to know him better. Maybe Kurt had permanently pushed him away because of what he had said to the other boy when he had been walking around with that sign. Maybe he just wasn't interested at all, and he was just being nice. The guy walked around with a 'free hugs' sign, for god's sake- being nice to strangers must be somewhat of a hobby to him. Kurt had caught him at the end of his shift once, and he had smiled to him as he walked out the door, but he hadn't actually stopped to talk.

Kurt was still blowing this way out of proportion, he decided, but day after day he continued driving to the mall at the same time, on the same days. He wasn't interested- he couldn't be. Maybe he was interested in that girl who always worked with him who he always seemed to be flirting with, but he wasn't interested in Kurt. That's what he kept telling himself, at least, and when Saturday rolled around again and his dad asked him for some help in the shop, he wasn't too put off that he couldn't do anything else that day. Because Blaine wasn't interested, right?

It was beginning to become a regular thing, now; wake up, go to school, do homework at a table in the very back of TCC while sneaking glances at the hazel-eyed barista every now and then. The one who didn't like him, wasn't interested, probably thought he was pathetic because he kept coming back. So when Kurt showed up on Tuesday and Blaine shot him a dazzling smile and told him that he'd missed him on Saturday, it shouldn't have made his heart feel the way that it did.

“Some of us have more important things to do on Saturdays,” Kurt countered, his lips turning up slightly to let the other boy know that he was kidding.

“And some of us, unfortunately, do not,” Blaine replied, sighing melodramatically as he put the top on Kurt's drink.
~*~*~*

Kurt sat at what was becoming his usual spot at TCC- the table in the very back, on the left and next to the window. He propped open his history textbook as he sipped from his mocha, twirling the cup absent-mindedly until his eyes fell on the boyish handwriting adorning the side of the cup.

I can't get you out of my grind. ;-) -Blaine

Kurt's heart stopped for a minute, or two, or seven, glancing up at the dark-haired boy at the counter, watching him mix someone's drink. This was just another one of his coffee puns, right? It didn't mean anything, it couldn't mean anything. Sure, the winky face had made a triumphant (and adorable) comeback, but... he was flirting with her right then. The girl behind the counter with Blaine, the one who kept popping her gum in that super annoying way. They were totally flirting, he was definitely straight, oh no oh no oh no oh no.

Kurt tried to distract himself by immersing himself in his history homework, and it was actually working quite nicely, because it took a few moments for him to even realize that someone was standing in front of him. Someone who smelled really, really good, like a mix of home, and, well... coffee.

“Mind if I sit?”

Kurt shook his head, his heart doing that stupid racing thing again, and Blaine sat down across from him, and he was still smiling that stupid smile, and why why why.

“Homework?” He asked, gesturing to the textbook that Kurt had previously been so involved in. Kurt nodded. “History.” Where had his conversational skills gone? Blaine was looking at him, sitting across from him, and that was all he had to say?

Blaine's eyed strayed to the little note on Kurt's cup, and Kurt wasn't sure if he was imagining that little blush or not.

“I, uh, realized that I forgot to ask you how your day was today,” Blaine said quickly. He seemed nervous, and he reached behind him to untie the apron around his waist. He turned it around and around in his hands. “So, how was your day today?”

It was Kurt's turn to blush, now. He would never admit it, but he secretly loved that this stranger seemed to care so much about how Kurt was doing. He didn't ask it like a parent would, and he didn't ask it just to have something to say- he genuinely seemed to care.

How was his day? Every time Blaine asked him this question, he was tempted to say “awful” or “terrible” or “okay, for once,” but he would never. Because he was still a stranger, even if he was a really nice stranger with stunning hazel eyes that were looking at him – and into him - right then.

“It was okay,” he shrugged, trying his best to act nonchalant. It had been okay, because it was Christmas break now, and Christmas break meant an entire week without any slushies thrown in his direction.

Blaine nodded, glancing over his shoulder quickly. Kurt hadn't noticed the way the girl behind the counter was staring at them, with a tiny little smile at her face that she was trying to cover up with her hand (it wasn't working). When she noticed Blaine looking at her she turned and busied herself with wiping down the counter, which really didn't look too dirty to begin with.

“Kurt,” Blaine began, and Kurt's heart skipped a beat. How was it possible that his name, one lone syllable that had been spoken by countless people throughout his life, sounded so much better rolling off the tongue of this mysterious boy? “I know you barely know me, and I know the last time I asked you this you told me to get out of your business so if you want me to go away you can just say so and I'll leave you alone,” he said, all in one breath. Kurt raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“But, I mean... sometimes when you come in here, you look so... sad. And I was just wondering if there was anything you wanted to talk about? If I'm overstepping or something here, I'll just... I'll leave you alone.”

Kurt shook his head quickly. “You're not overstepping,” he said quickly, and then, “But, no... there's nothing to talk about. Thanks, though.” He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Okay. If you change your mind... you know where to find me.”

“Yeah.”

Blaine nodded at him and stood up, pushing his chair back in.

“Goodbye, Kurt.”

“Bye, Blaine.”

~*~*~*~*~*~
Kurt was five minutes away from the mall when it started to rain. It was just a drizzle at first, but it soon turned into a full-on storm, thunder and lightning and all, and Kurt was glad that the mall was only about ten minutes away from his house. He inwardly cursed the Ohio weather - thunderstorms? In December? The entire world was dark, and it was raining hard, and he almost didn't notice the person on the sidewalk next to him, holding an apron over his head as a makeshift umbrella. Kurt pulled over, hoping to be heard over the pounding rain and the roar of the thunder. “Blaine?”

The figure turned around at the sound of Kurt's voice, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tried to figure out who was calling his name.

“Come on, get in,” Kurt called out, reaching over to press the unlock button on his door.

Blaine hurried to the car, pulling the passenger door open and shutting it quickly behind him. He was dripping wet, as the apron hadn't done too great of a job at being an umbrella.

“Should I even ask why you were attempting to walk home in this storm?” Kurt asked, starting to drive again.

“Well, my brother was supposed to pick me up, but... I guess he forgot,” Blaine shrugged.

“He... forgot.”

“Yup.”

“Where do you live? I'll drop you off.”

“Westerville.”

Kurt raised his eyebrows, looking at Blaine out of the corner of his eye. “You were planning on walking... all the way to Westerville... in a thunderstorm.”

Blaine laughed. “No, silly. I was walking to the bus stop.”

“Oh.” Kurt blushed again. He should have figured. And... Blaine had a really, really nice laugh. He reached to turn the radio off so that he could hear the other boy better.

“Do you... do you want to come home with me? Just until the storm passes,” he added quickly. “I live five minutes from here. You could wait it out there, then I could drive you home.”

“Sure, I'd love to,” Blaine smiled, looking over to meet Kurt's eyes. “You don't have to drive me, though. I'm sure I can get someone to pick me up.”

“Okay,” Kurt said simply, and a little while later he was pulling into his driveway and simultaneously trying not to panic. Okay, he was with the totally gorgeous barista he'd been thinking about nonstop for two weeks, the one who was totally sweet and had a smile that made his heart melt and they were about to go into his house alone – his dad was still at work. Yeah, no reason to panic, no reason at all.

They both sprinted from the car to the front door at the same time, laughing loudly as Kurt fumbled for his keys and the rain soaked through their clothes. They stumbled into the foyer and Kurt flicked on the lights. Blaine's hair was dripping on the floor, a tiny little puddle forming around him.

“Here, I'll grab you a towel.” Kurt disappeared to get a towel from the linen closet, and Blaine stood awkwardly in front of the door, glancing at what he could see of the house. It looked... homey, for lack of a better word. Old-fashioned couches, photos everywhere, and it felt comfortable already.

Kurt returned with a towel, which Blaine took gratefully. “Thanks,” he said softly, scrubbing at his dripping curls.

“Don't mention it,” Kurt dismissed with a wave of his hand. “You can come in, you know. I don't bite.”

“Good to know.” Blaine smiled and followed Kurt into the living room, sitting down next to him on the couch.

“My dad's at work,” Kurt felt the need to explain. “Do you want anything? Food, a drink, anything?”

“I'm fine,” Blaine told him, sitting back and making himself comfortable, and it should have been more awkward than it was. They barely knew each other, after all, but it didn't really feel awkward, for them to be doing this.

Kurt glanced idly toward the window, where the storm was still raging on. “Looks like it'll be a while,” he commented. He almost wanted to ask Blaine if he wanted to stay overnight, but that would be beyond weird, right? He would worry endlessly if he let him go out in this storm by himself, though...

There was silence between the boys for a moment, until they met each other's eyes, and Blaine smiled.

“What?” Kurt asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Nothing. It's just... this is weird.”

“This is weird. You walk around with a 'free hugs' sign, and this is weird.”

“Okay, maybe 'weird' wasn't the right word, but- hey hey, out of line!”

“Good-weird, Blaine. Good-weird.” Kurt laughed, but then his expression turned more serious. “Why do you do it, anyway?” He asked, hugging a throw pillow to his chest.

“Do what?”

“Go around with that sign. Why do you do it?”

“Well, I guess... I don't know. It's kind of hard to explain.”

“We've got a while,” Kurt pointed out, and as if to punctuate this, thunder boomed outside of the window.

Blaine shrugged, leaning back into the couch a little. “This one time I was having a really bad day, you know, one of those days where you just want a hug? But there was nobody around, and I started thinking that this must happen all the time, to a lot of people.”

Kurt nodded.

“So... it just kind of happened, I guess. If I can brighten just one person's day... then it's worth all the stares. And all the people calling me weird,” he added teasingly, tossing a pillow in Kurt's direction. He dodged it expertly.

Kurt wanted to ask so many other things, but he didn't. He knew that Blaine had come up to him that day because he'd gotten the feeling that something was bothering him, that he was having one of those days – and the whole thing gave Kurt a weird feeling, knowing that Blaine could read him like that.

“I don't take it back,” he smiled innocently, and lightning lit up the room behind him.

“Want to watch a movie or something?” He asked, turning towards Blaine. “I'll go grab some from my room.”

Kurt disappeared upstairs to get the movies from his room – and also to fix his hair, and give himself a little pep talk in the mirror. “It's dark, you're home alone with Blaine, and you're about to watch a movie with him. No. Big. Deal,” he chanted to his reflection, putting down his can of hairspray, grabbing the DVDs and returning downstairs.

“You have amazing taste in movies,” Blaine commented when Kurt handed them to him, and Kurt grinned widely

“I try.”

How was this even possible? How was it possible that he was not only gorgeous but also a musical fanatic and liked romcoms? The only way this could get any better would be if he were miraculously gay and also single.

Blaine picked Rent and Phantom of the Opera from the stack, placing the other movies on the side table.

“Good choices,” Kurt commented, getting up to put Rent in the DVD player. He let the previews run while he made a bowl of popcorn, then grabbed the remote and settled back into his spot on the couch. Blaine settled himself on the other side of the couch as Kurt pressed play.

“I hope you won't mind if I sing along, because I can't help myself sometimes,” Blaine let Kurt know.

“The only way I would mind would be if you didn't let me sing with you,” came the reply from the other side of the couch.

So they dueted on Seasons of Love, and wow, Kurt's voice made Blaine feel funny in his stomach, and Blaine's voice made Kurt feel funny in his stomach, and when the scene was over and the movie was beginning, Blaine couldn't help but say, “You have a beautiful voice.”

Kurt tore his eyes from the screen to look at Blaine, his heart skipping a beat when he saw that Blaine was already looking at him. “Thanks... so do you. We should duet more often,” He smiled.

They watched the movie in silence for a few moments, until it got to the part where Mark's mother calls him.

“That's my voicemail,” Blaine told Kurt, eating a handful of popcorn.

“It is not.”

“It is! I swear. Call me.”

“I don't have your number,” Kurt reminded him.

“Oh. Right.” Blaine paused the movie so that he could recite his number, and Kurt typed it into his phone, dialing and setting it on speakerphone. Blaine's phone rang in his pocket, but he didn't pick it up. Eventually, it stopped ringing and 'Speaaaaak'' echoed through the room. Kurt burst out laughing, and Blaine looked at him smugly. “Told you.”

The rest of the movie went on pretty much the same way. Blaine would sing, or Kurt would sing, or they would sing together. They each knew every line to every song – hell, they each knew the movie word-for-word. At the funeral scene tears were sliding down Kurt's face, because no matter how many times he watched this movie this part always got him. He glanced over at Blaine in his fuzzy vision, only to see that he was crying too, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. Kurt sniffled and offered his box of tissues to Blaine, who looked almost embarrassed, but then he saw that Kurt was crying too, and he took the tissue and wiped his eyes, the blush fading from his face.

By the end of the movie, the bowl of popcorn was finished and the tissue box was halfway empty, both boys wiping at their eyes as the credits rolled.

“I never should have chosen this movie,” Blaine sniffed.

Kurt giggled through his tears. “Yeah, you shouldn't have.” It was still pouring rain outside, and even though the thunder and lightning had stopped, Kurt got up to put in Phantom. He hoped that maybe Blaine wouldn't want to leave so soon.
~*~*~*~*~

Blaine didn't know when it happened, exactly. Actually, he could have told you that it was right before Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again, because that was the last thing he remembered watching before he fell asleep. He didn't remember shifting across the couch, and he didn't remember resting his head on Kurt's shoulder. Most of all, he didn't remember falling asleep there, but he must have.

When he woke up, it was dark. Darker than it had been before, because the TV wasn't on. All he could register at first was that it was dark, and he was comfortable – really, ridiculously comfortable. Also that there was someone next to him, someone who smelled really good, someone who fit against him perfectly. Blaine cuddled into him, fully intent on going back to sleep until he realized something that he should have noticed right away – he hadn't woken up next to someone in, well... ever.

He sat up, rubbing at his eyes and trying to remember where he was. He pulled his blanket tighter around him, and – oh, that was weird, he wasn't using a blanket before. He heard the rain still pouring diligently outside and it all came back to him; he was at Kurt's house and oh god he fell asleep on top of him.

“Blaine?” Came a soft voice from beside him, and Blaine jumped.

“Kurt? Oh my god, I fell asleep on you. I'm so sorry.” He scooted to the other side of the couch.

“It's okay,” Kurt said quickly. Because it was so much more than okay. The moment Blaine's head fell against his shoulder, he'd forgotten how to breathe. And then he'd fallen asleep on top of him and it was ridiculously adorable and Kurt was ridiculously happy and god, he was breathless.

“The power went out a little while ago,” Kurt said, to break the silence. “The storm's pretty bad. I was going to light some candles but I couldn't really get up...”

“Sorry,” Blaine said again. “I guess I was really tired. I haven't been sleeping much lately." And you were so warm and comfortable and you smell so nice.

“Blaine, it's okay. Really.” Kurt smiled into the darkness, and across the couch, so did Blaine.

“Now that you're up, though, you can help me with the candles.” Kurt got up and made his way to the kitchen, coming back with a few mismatched candles and a lighter.

“Got a light?” He sang at Blaine, pressing the lighter into his hand.

“I know you, you're- you're shivering,” Blaine sang back.

“It's nothing, they turned off my heat... and I'm just a little weak on my feet. Would you light my candle?” Kurt giggled, holding the candle up in front of Blaine's face. He lit it and Kurt placed it on the side table, picking up a second one. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing, your hair in the moonlight,” Blaine sang to him, smiling softly. He followed him across the room now that he could see with the dimness of the one candle. “You look familiar, can you make it?”

Kurt lifted the second candle. Blaine lit it.

“Just haven't eaten much today, at least the room stopped spinning. Anyway- what?”

“Nothing. Your smile reminded me of-”

“I always remind people of- who is she?”

“She died. Her name was April.”

Kurt blew the candle out, smiling to himself.

“It's out again...sorry 'bout your friend. Would you light my candle?”

Blaine grinned, lifting the lighter to the candle again.

“Well...”

“Ow.”

“Oh, the wax...”

“it's dripping.”

“I like it between my-”

“Fingers! I figured,'' Blaine sang, through a fit of laughter. “Oh well, goodnight.”

"We could light the candle," Kurt sang, skipping a handful of verses as he picked up the last candle. "Oh what'd you do with my candle?" He lifted the candle once more, and Blaine lit it, setting the lighter down on the coffee table.

"That was my last match," he sang.

"Our eyes'll adjust, thank god for the moon." Kurt sat down in the middle of the couch.

"Baby it's not the moon at all, I hear Spike Lee's shooting down the street."

"Bah humbug."

Kurt looked at Blaine, swallowing hard. His hands found Blaine's easily, and slowly he entwined their fingers, as if he expected Blaine to protest at any moment.

He didn't.

"Cold hands..."

"Yours too." Blaine squeezed Kurt's hands, making his heart do a weird flippy thing.

"Big, like my father's... Do you wanna dance?" Kurt stood up, still holding Blaine's hands. Blaine followed. He let go of Blaine's hands to wrap his arms around his shoulders. Blaine's came down to wrap around his waist, and he forgot how to breathe again.

"With you?" They swayed.

"No, with my father."

Their eyes met. They were smiling, and then they weren't, because suddenly they realized how close they were, how close their lips were.

Blaine looked at Kurt's lips.

Kurt looked at Blaine's.

And then Blaine burst out laughing and rested his head on Kurt's shoulder, letting go of him, and Kurt could have sworn that his breathing would never return to normal.

He stepped back after a moment, and all he said was, "You're right. We should do that more often." He sat down on the couch again. "Hey, what time is it?"

Kurt grabbed his phone, his fingers shaking slightly. "9:12."

Blaine looked around at the candles, then glanced outside at the storm. He met Kurt's eyes in question.

"You can stay, if you want," he said quickly. "I don't really want you going out in this, anyway."

"Okay. Thanks... really," Blaine replied easily. He tapped a quick message to his mom, telling her that he was safe and with a friend. Then he yawned, collapsing against the couch.

"Are you tired, Blaine? I can't tell," Kurt teased him.

"I just woke up from a nap, don't look at me like that."

"It's only nine."

"Hmph."

Kurt laughed, sitting down on the couch next to Blaine. Everything felt more... intimate, in the candlelight. He watched the other boy carefully. When he was tired, like he was right then, he looked...small. Fragile. Kurt watched the way his face looked in the candlelight, watched the shadows that his features made.

He looked small, and young, and fragile, and beautiful, and what was he doing?

He watched as Blaine shifted around, trying to make himself comfortable. Kurt's breath was caught in his throat, and he had to cough a few times before he could form words.

"You can lay here... If you want." He gestured to the spot in front of him, where Blaine had fallen asleep on him before.

Blaine looked over at him from the opposite end of the couch, biting his lip. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. It was comfortable." Kurt was beyond glad that the power was out, because he was sure that his face resembled a tomato right then.

Blaine shifted to the other side of the couch, settling down in the spot right in front of Kurt. He took his blanket and put it over both of them. Kurt curled into him a little.

"Is this okay?" He asked, and he wasn't just asking if the taller boy was comfortable.

"More than," came the reply from behind him.

Just before he fell asleep, Blaine felt Kurt's arms wrap around him. He curled closer in response.

That night, Burt Hummel returned home from a long day of being stuck at the shop to find his son and a boy he had never met tangled up on the couch. He didn't have the heart to wake them.