Chapter 3

                Since The Cog and Whistle was closed Sunday and Monday, Blaine had two days off. He could have gone to bed early and sleep, but he was so used to staying up late now that there was no point. Sometimes he worked on a clockwork project, but tonight he was going to busk with the twins. They didn’t do it as a main source of income anymore, but about once a week they went back to their corner in Times Square to draw a crowd. Blaine played and it was mostly the twins who sang, but sometimes Blaine did too. He was distracted tonight though. He kept thinking he saw Kurt in the crowd, but he’d turn and the image was gone. He didn’t know why he was still thinking about this guy. He didn’t even really look interested. Rachel probably just dragged him along. Blaine kept hoping he was playing the song correctly because he kept spacing out. Everyone seemed to be carrying on as usual though so he figured he was fine.
                He hadn’t told the twins about Kurt because he knew exactly how they’d react. They would run up and down every street in New York calling his name until they found him. When they found him they would serenade his way in to Blaine’s arms and then start planning what songs they would sing at the wedding. No, Blaine was not going to tell them about someone who he’d only seen for 5 minutes up close.
                At the end of the night Blaine walked, as he always did, to the side street where the homeless man had given him his guitar. It was more than a guitar, it was a new life. Without it, he never would have been noticed by Ethan and Evan. He may have walked a different way to the hotel. He may have been back at his parent’s now. He went and stood at the spot where the man’s blanket should have been. He wasn’t surprised that the space was empty. It had been empty for four years.
                He had gone back for the first time right after he had moved into the twin’s place. He wanted to share this amazing turn of events in his life with the person who unknowingly started it. But the man had been sleeping and Blaine didn’t have the heart to wake him. He left ten dollars in the little cardboard box and left. He went back the next week and the man and the blanket were gone.
                Blaine had spent almost a month looking for the old man. He didn’t even know his name. He walked down streets that no intelligent person would venture down at nightfall. He sat in the man’s spot as though he would miraculously return. But he didn’t. Blaine eventually had to acknowledge his assumption that the man had died. Maybe he was already dead when Blaine left the money the first time. Either way, he still felt the need to check that spot once in a while, much like a family member visiting a grave. It served absolutely no purpose. No one would ever be there. No one was going to jump out and shout ‘Surprise, I’m alive!’. But Blaine still went. He said a silent thank you and smiled to himself. He wondered if he would have become friends with the man if he were still here. They could share guitar tips. Talk about life. Blaine imagined that the man would be the one person he could tell about Kurt. He was bursting to talk about it, but also pushed it to the back of his mind so as not to drive himself crazy only to be disappointed.
                He had dated before, briefly. The twins had tried to get him to meet people, but Blaine lacked commonality with most of them. Other than they were gay New Yorkers. He was content enough just to be supporting himself, he didn’t need anyone else. But when he moved out of the twin’s apartment, he realized just how alone he was. It wasn’t until Kurt walked into The Cog with Rachel that he had even the most fleeting feeling that he wasn’t going to die alone.

                Tuesday night came too quickly, but as fast as his weekend went, he did love his work. The twins had introduced him to The Cog shortly after he had settled in. Their apartment was strewn with pseudo-Victorian furniture and gadgets, which Blaine took to immediately. Lamps made of black metal twisted into Burton-esque trees, the twins matching beds made from a dark wood that curled and twisted in ways that other furniture would be jealous of, the ornate peaked bird cage, the little piles of tattered second-hand books. He wanted to play with it all, and not touch anything all at the same time. After feeling too reserved for some time, he finally worked at fixing an old cuckoo clock that was sitting atop a stack of magazines, with only basic knowledge he had picked up from personal research over the years. The twins, having spied on the whole operation, just stared at him and then demanded he follow them outside. They walked several blocks before Blaine asked where it was they were going. The twins didn’t answer but they shared a smile between each other.
                Eventually they stood in front of a door in the side of a brick wall. The door had a rounded top and elaborate black hinges. It was a beautiful looking door, but not outstanding if you were just walking by. However here they were, standing in front of it.
                “So…” said Blaine.
                “Do you really think so?” said Evan, to Ethan, ignoring Blaine.
                “Do you think not?” said Ethan back. Blaine felt like he was only hearing one side of a telepathic conversation. The twins Cheshire grins beamed at him, and Evan opened the door.  It took a minute for Blaine’s eyes to adjust to the light. They were entering a dimly lit hallway with a small flight of four steps down at the other end.
                “We’re not open!” Shouted a gruff voice from below. A large man with a dusty grey collared shirt and a white waist apron appeared at the bottom of the stairs and began lumbering up. Blaine’s heart was gearing up for a swift run out of there, but his brain was still piqued with curiosity and told him to follow the twins’ lead. Ethan reached the top of the stairs and casually leaned on the hand rail, just as the large man made it to the top step.
                “Oh,” he said, “you.”
                “What’s wrong with us?” grinned Ethan.
                “You’re not twenty-one, that’s what,” the man grumbled.
                “But, as you said-“ said Ethan, gesturing lazily with his hand-
                “You’re not open,” finished Evan, leaning on the opposite railing, “You know you love us Joe”. The man, although maintaining his gruff demeanor, didn’t appear upset at the boys. Slightly amused maybe, as though they’d had this conversation before.
                “So what’s your excuse,” said the man, to Blaine.
                “I, uh, well, I was just…” he stammered and looked frantically from one twin to the next.
                “He needs to see it,” said Evan.
                “’Need’ being the operative word there,” said Ethan, seriously. The gruff man studied Blaine for a minute and then turned and walked down the stairs and returned to the dimness. The twins silently high-fived one another. Blaine was confused.
                “Blaine Anderson,” began Ethan, officially, “It has come to our attention that you are clearly drawn to all of our…”
                “…Steampunkery,” Evan finished. Blaine flushed slightly.
                “Good word, thanks.  So, we cannot go on being in your acquaintance without at least introducing you so the single greatest-“
                “-Currently illegal, because we’re underage-“
                “-place in New York.” Ethan paused. “Ok, maybe there could be some places considered to be better, but for you, my friend…well, just go in.” Blaine still was a bit wary of this whole situation, but ventured down the stairs. His jaw dropped.
                In front of him was a large room. The room, like most large industrial spaces, had square pillars every eight feet or so. These pillars were wrapped with copper sheet metal, and riveted into place. To his right was a row of small café-style tables with a few stools, but mostly standing room.  To his left the worn velvet and paper covered wall continued about half way through the room before ending and exposing another lounge area with worn black leather couches and intricately wrought light fixtures, similar to in the twins’ apartment. At the back end of the lounge area was a black metal grill-work stage that reminded Blaine of the middle landing of a fire escape on the back of every apartment building he’d seen. On the stage was a table with the front decorated in welded pipes and gears to form some truly spectacular patterns.  Then, turning back to his right, was the bar. The two giant gramophone speaker columns that guarded either side of it were hard to tear his eyes from. His new goal was to own or build his own gramophone, or at least modify a radio into one. The bar itself stretched almost the width of the remaining room and was a sleek, dark wood that begged to be touched to prove it existed. A thick golden pipe ran along the top edge of it, acting as maybe a railing for people to lean on. Blaine blinked. And blinked again. He didn’t know what to say.
                “You kids need to be out before we open,” said Joe, ambling past again. Blaine didn’t want to leave. He turned back to the twins who hadn’t stopped smiling.
                “I’m moving out,” said Blaine, “I’m living here now.”
                “Yeah, we know,” said Evan, linking Blaine’s elbow in his and leading him back towards the door.
                “But…but….” protested Blaine.

                They sat across the street and watched people arrive for the night. Most looked ‘normal’ enough, but you could tell some were more eccentric than others.
                “Saturday is full garb night,” said Ethan, “Weekdays you get a mix of people, or people just wanting to hang out for a bit without dressing up. But yeah, Saturdays here are drool worthy.”
                Blaine knew now that this is what he came here for. He had to get in to that building again.

                Now, as he walked across the empty room, as he’d done hundreds of times over the last few years, he smiled a little to himself at how things had turned out. This place gave him a purpose to stay in New York. It gave him good friends. And if all went well, he might get a boyfriend out of it.
                “What up, Anderson?”
                “Hey Puck”
                “What’s new with you?”
                “Nothing really, how’s the baby?”
                “See for yourself,” he said, pulling a phone out of his back pocket. “Bethy’s almost crawling. I took this last night.”
                “Wow, she’s so big now!”
                “I know, right?”
                Blaine was legitimately interested in Beth. He had more or less been part of the whole story from the beginning.
                “So…you ever hear from the mom?”
                “Nah,” Puck pocketed his phone again. He appeared to blow the question off, but you could tell he was bothered. “It’s been five months, at this point I don’t want her to come back. Beth and I got a good thing going.”
                “Still the same nanny?”
                “Yeah, she’s a peach. Sometimes I feel bad that she’s there all alone all night with nothing really to do, but this gig means I get all day with my daughter. If my days were the other way around, I’d never get to see her, ya know?”
                Blaine nodded. Puck was the best DJ he’d seen in this place. He’d hate for him to leave. And besides, Blaine liked his personality. He was a bad-ass on the stage, but the second you brought up Beth you’d swear he was a kindergarten teacher.
                “Well, gotta sound-check,” Puck gestured over his shoulder and turned in the direction of the lounge.

                The night was as normal as any other night. Tina was late. People came in. People drank. People left. None of those people was Kurt.
                The next night went by in the same fashion. Bass pounded. Drinks spilled. Heat rose. People danced. People left.
                Then, half-way though his Thursday night shift, Blaine’s stomach decided to take up residence somewhere near his trachea. Kurt, then Rachel, then someone who Blaine had never seen before, walked through the door. They moved to their usual table and Rachel kissed the new-comer on the lips, grabbed Kurt’s hand and headed for the bar. Blaine didn’t know what to so suddenly. He didn’t know where to look. Should he greet them, or pretend he hadn’t seen them until they come? Should he be cleaning a glass, or pouring a drink? He ended up just standing stupidly with his arms at his sides while his mind screamed at him to do something. Eventually he made himself smile.
                “Your boyfriend?” shout-asked Blaine.
                “Yeah,” grinned Rachel. “I told him he just HAD to come, but he is a bit weirded out by the Saturday night business, so since we were all free tonight we thought we’d come!”
                Blaine nodded as he tried to fit Kurt into the puzzle of all this. As if on cue:
                “You remember Kurt, right?” Asked Rachel, hopefully.
                “I, yeah, of course I do,” Blaine smiled and then wondered if he looked like an idiot.
                “Good! Cranberry soda and a Bud, please!” Rachel looked smug as she stood there waiting for her order. She caught Blaine off-guard and he had to re-focus on what he was supposed to be doing. He handed her the drinks and she flashed her brilliant smile, whipped around and marched back to her table. Kurt still stood awkwardly beside the bar.
                “Water again?” asked Blaine. Kurt smiled and nodded. Blaine grabbed a water bottle and slid it across the bar, and Kurt slid three dollar-bills back at him.
                “No, no, no, water’s-“
                “I’m not DD,” shouted back Kurt with a bit of a smirk. Blaine remained with his hand awkwardly on the money, wanting to give Kurt a free drink, but also knowing he needed to respect the honesty. “Call it a tip, then,” said Kurt, sensing the hesitation. Blaine had to accept, and pulled the bills towards him. Kurt waited an awkward moment and then turned to go.
                “Kurt!” shouted Blaine, and then wasn’t sure why he did. He looked quickly down the bar. Tina was helping someone else and it didn’t look like anyone was waiting for him. Kurt turned back. “So… uh… you’re from Ohio, right?”
                “Yeah,” said Kurt.
                “What part?”
                “Lima,” Kurt rolled his eyes.
                “Really?” asked Blaine, “My parents got married near there. They moved to Pennsylvania just before I was born though.”
                “Oh yeah? Well, you’re lucky you got out early,” Kurt laughed. Blaine shrugged. Living in Lima would have been better than his teenaged life any day.
                “So why are you here now?”
                “School,” said Kurt. “I applied to NYADA with Rachel but she got in and I didn’t. Spent a year feeling sorry for myself and two years in a business course I hated before I had the guts to apply to a performance school again. I got into AMDA and Rachel said I could live with her for a bit. Just got my own place a few weeks ago.”
                “So, you knew Rachel before?”
                “Yeah, we went to school together. Finn too. Finn’s actually my step-brother, his mom married my dad a while ago.”
                “No way!”
                “Yeah, I’m sure my dad would have rathered he stick around to help with the business instead of me, but what can ya do?”
                “What does your dad do?”
                “Mechanic by trade, but the last few years he’s taken an interest in steam engines. I was helping him with some stuff and stumbled upon this world,” he gestured around the room.
                Blaine was fighting to keep in tune with the conversation because the room was so loud. He was half lip-reading, half listening. He could listen to Kurt forever, but screaming at each other over a bar seemed a less than ideal first date. Oh God, what was he saying? First date? They had just met! Although Blaine’s hesitation about Kurt being gay too had subsided somewhat, he still didn’t know. Kurt could be just being nice. But why would a ‘just nice’ person divulge so much about themselves in random conversation? People were beginning to flock around the bar again and Blaine knew he needed to help Tina.
                “Listen, Kurt, I…”
                “Yeah, I know. It’s fine. I’ve got class tomorrow anyway, I should go,” he started to turn away.
                “Kurt!” shouted Blaine, in a slight panic again, “You can come to talk anytime. Like… you don’t have to be ‘out’ with Rachel…” Kurt smiled and nodded as some people pushed their way into Blaine’s line of sight.

                Friday night Kurt didn’t come. Or Saturday night. And then came the agonizing Sunday and Monday where he had no chance of seeing Kurt, or even Rachel. He cleaned his apartment to keep busy. He cleaned Pav’s cage. He went grocery shopping. He busked with the twins. They ordered pizza and watched movies, but Blaine’s mind was somewhere else. He still didn’t dare tell them about his silly crush. Because he was trying to convince himself that that’s all it was. Nothing more than a crush on a customer who didn’t really feel the same way back.
                Then, Tuesday night, one of the first people in the near-empty room was Kurt. Blaine was still in front of the bar, giving it a final wipe-down, and  was talking to Puck, who had done his sound check and had left ambient music playing until more people arrived. Blaine froze mid-conversation with Puck. Puck turned in the direction of Blaine’s stare. Kurt became aware of the two people staring at him and slowed his pace, suspiciously.
                “Hey!” breathed Blaine.
                “Hey,” said Kurt.
                “Talk later, Anderson,” said Puck, slapping Blaine’s ass on the way by.
                “Umm…” said Kurt, watching Puck leave, “is he your…uh…”
                Blaine caught on. “OH! NO! Geez, no. He has a kid…” as if that explained everything.
                “Oh,” said Kurt, looking slightly releaved. Joe walked through the room and gave Blaine a knowing look. He scampered behind the bar.
                “Sorry, I just… work,” he shrugged.
                “No, I know,” laughed Kurt. “I’m impeding on your turf, I know I have to play by the rules.”
                “So…on  your own tonight?”
                “Yeah. I can’t really stay long but I figured talking would be easier at the start of the night. That is, if you want to. I mean, I don’t have to stay. Just before you said-“
                “It’s fine! Kurt, it’s fine,” Blaine smiled a little at how flustered Kurt was getting.
                “Alright…But really, I can’t stay. I don’t even really know why I came because I have to go. This was silly wasn’t it? I just have this early class tomorrow…”
                “That’s ok,” said Blaine, a little disappointed, but understanding. “I’m uh…I’m glad you came.”
                “Yeah,” said Kurt, fiddling with a button on his shirt.
                “You can come tomorrow, if you want,” hinted Blaine. Kurt smiled and said he’d try, before leaving again. Blaine couldn’t stop smiling the rest of the night.
                Kurt came right at opening the next night. And the night after. Kurt came to talk to Blaine all that week. Sometimes he stayed into the night, sometimes he had to go. By the time he walked through the door on Saturday with Rachel and Quinn, Blaine was almost able to control the butterflies in his stomach. Kurt was the one who strode confidently up to the bar, instead of Rachel this time. It was Kurt who had a radiant smile and talked to Blaine with ease. The attraction was undeniable now. Blaine and Kurt’s eyes met and Blaine knew it was there. He could stop pretending now. This whole thing might just be happening for real. Saturday was busy and Kurt kept getting lost in the crowd. Finally Blaine caught sight of him again.
                “Hey!”
                “Long time no see!”
                “Listen, Kurt…Are you staying till close?”
                “Umm… I dunno. Why?”
                “Well… I’m closing tonight so I have to clean up, but… if you wanted to talk more you could meet me at the back door afterwards.”  Blaine knew it was a late night. He knew he was asking too much. But Kurt nodded before being lost in the crowd again.

                Blaine closed the back door behind him and pulled his scarf tighter around his neck. He pocketed his keys and turned around.
                “HOLY shit on a stick, don’t DO that!”
                “Sorry.” Said Kurt who had materialized out of the shadows, looking slightly awkward. Blaine fiddled with his coat.
                “So…” said Kurt
                “So…” said Blaine. “Hey”
                “Hey”
                “I can actually hear you at a normal decibel now”
                “Ha, yeah I guess so.”
                “Yeah…”
                “Yeah.”
                “So, um, do you…want to have coffee? Or something?” clearly Blaine hadn’t thought this through.
                “Um…” Kurt looked down the street and Blaine knew what he was thinking. It’s almost 3 am. Not many coffee places are open at this time…
                “Oh, yeah I guess that was dumb. Um… do you want to come up to my place for coffee then?” Blaine wasn’t sure what made him ask that. Why would anyone invite anyone over at three in the morning. But then again, it was New York.
                “Uh, yeah. OK.” Said Kurt.
                “Ok then.” Blaine began walking down the block. They didn’t really say much to each other, which was odd considering the number of things they’d talked about over the last week or so. This was different though. They didn’t have a bar between them. Blaine could hold his hand if he wanted, but he held back. He noticed Kurt looking sideways up the street.
                “Everything ok?”
                “Well… yeah. Where is it that you live?”
                “Right there,” said Blaine, pointing a few doors up. “Why, is this a weird street for you?” Blaine was getting a bit nervous. He hoped he hadn’t screwed this up already just based on where he lived. Kurt kept following him and then a small smile turned up the corners of his mouth, which turned into a laugh. The first time Blaine had really seen him laugh.
                “This is seriously where you live?”
                “…yes?” said Blaine, sticking the key in the main door. “Why, where do you live?” He was feeling uncomfortable now and was starting to regret inviting Kurt over. Kurt pointed across the road. It took Blaine a moment for the information to sink in.
                “You… you live… THERE?”
                “I do!” Kurt laughed. “Third floor…that one” He pointed to a window at the edge of the building.
                “You mean for the last excruciating month of my life, YOU’VE BEEN NEXT DOOR TO ME?” exclaimed Blaine, laughing too now.
                “Excruciating?” said Kurt, bemused. Blaine blushed and went back to opening the door. He led him up the stairs, apologizing for the hike. He hip checked his door open and let Kurt in. He watched Kurt look around his living room while he went and started water for coffee. He couldn’t tell if the feeling in his chest was exhaustion or excitement. Maybe a bit of both.
                “What’s this?” asked Kurt. Blaine poked his head around the corner.
                “It’s a…a Dalek.”
                “Oh!” said Kurt, in the polite way that people do when their question has been answered, but they still have no idea what the answer means. Blaine suddenly became wildly aware of how many geeky things lay around the room.
                “It’s a robot…thing…from a TV show. Doctor Who.”
                “Oh yeah, I think I’ve heard of that.  British isn’t it?”
                “Yeah it is,” said Blaine, relieved that at least the title of the show wasn’t over Kurt’s head. If all went well they’d have lots of time for Blaine to make him watch the DVDs. Kurt joined Blaine in his narrow galley kitchen. He leaned with his back against the counter, pressing his hands down slightly as though he made to sit on the counter but then changed his mind an just kind of stood stiffly, trying to look casual. Blaine grabbed a couple mugs from the cupboard near Kurt’s left ear. He put them on the counter, which happened to be right beside Kurt’s hand. Before he knew what he was doing he had covered Kurt’s hand with his own. He stood there for a minute, mortified that his hand hadn’t consulted his brain before making such a sudden move, but now it was too late to pretend he was doing something else and now it was just getting awkward that both of them were staring at their hands and not doing or saying anything.
                “I’m, um…I’m glad you came,” said Blaine, knowing he was re-using a line, but didn’t know what else to say. Kurt’s thumb moved ever so slightly to stroke the side of Blaine’s pinky finger. An excited shiver coursed through Blaine’s gut. He closed his eyes and smiled. The coffee maker began to brew, killing the mood slightly. Blaine opened his eyes and looked at Kurt, who was already smiling at him. His bright green eyes never ceased to amaze Blaine, who was so used to looking at brown in the mirror. Kurt shifted a bit to stand even with Blaine. They looked at each other. Blaine’s heart did a somersault.
                Their lips found each other. Very gently. Very slowly. Kurt ran his fingers up Blaine’s arms. Blaine raised his hands gently to Kurt’s waist. The room spun and lost his balance slightly, taking a step back. Kurt staggered too, but then changed his move from accidental to deliberate as he backed Blaine into the wall behind him. Blaine was still feeling dizzy so he turned his head away, coming up for air. Something wasn’t right. Kurt brought his hand up to the back of Blaine’s head and kissed his jaw-line. Blaine closed his eyes and everything went white. He wasn’t in his apartment anymore. He wasn’t kissing Kurt anymore. Before he knew what he was doing he had pushed Kurt away from him with such force that Kurt nearly overturned a chair at the table. Kurt looked bewildered as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.
                “Umm…Sorry, Blaine… I just… I thought…. I mean, you kissed me back…” Blaine was breathing heavily, still unsure of what just happened. He ran his fingers through his knotted hair and found that it was soaked in sweat.
                “No, I….Kurt…it’s….it’s late, you need to leave. I’m sorry.” He backed across his living room muttering that he was sorry over and over. He wanted to get to the safety of his room before he cried. He closed his bedroom door with his back against it. He bit his bottom lip and waited until he heard the click of his front door which meant Kurt had finally left. He sank to the floor and sobbed uncontrollably into his hands. He hadn’t cried this hard in at least four years. Even then, it probably wasn’t this hard.
                After what seemed like forever he opened his eyes to find that he was lying on the floor. The soft glow from his window signaled the start of a new morning. He dragged himself across the floor and pulled his curtains shut. He didn’t even bother showering, he just pulled his clothes off and crawled into the warmth of his bed and fell asleep.