Kurt was nothing if not accommodating. Of course he knew that Blaine hadn’t been serious. If there’d been any question about that, it easily would have been solved by the text he’d gotten soon after the timestamp on the email.

From: Blaine Anderson
I hope you realize I was joking about making me clothes. You don’t even have my measurements! ;)

That didn’t stop the motivation from being there. The gentle teasing nature of Blaine’s words was almost enough to drive him up the wall, because as much as he liked to remind himself that they were friends, he couldn’t stop the thoughts of how much he would like to do just that. He’d found it slightly awkward to take someone’s measurements at first; the act of being so close to strangers and his fingers, albeit innocently, brushing up against certain parts of them that they really shouldn’t had been unnerving. Except it was old hat by that point, and he did it without much thought beyond numbers and fit.

Yet all it took was one mention from Blaine and Kurt was stuck with the thought of how that would go. He knew he shouldn’t, but it wasn’t like he’d ever been able to completely turn off the part of him that found Blaine incredibly attractive. He wasn’t even sure if there was a part of him that didn’t. All he knew was that his subconscious must have hated him, because that quip from Blaine spun itself into images and moments in his imagination.

In an attempt to channel his thoughts into something more productive and constructive, Kurt delved into what he’d been meaning to do in the first place. Brittany was someone who was important to Blaine, that much was obvious. The most she’d seemed happy when he’d been there was when they were talking about clothes and she’d been looking at his drawing, so he was banking on the assumption that clothes would make her happy. He didn’t have much to work with, but he doubted that anyone could really be unhappy with something made specifically for them.

He spent a good while working on the design, because finding the right shade of pink that he wanted proved to be harder than he’d thought. It was difficult to match the perfect shade to skin tone when he’d only seen the person he was designing for in the dim lighting of a bar. Maybe it wouldn’t matter so much at first, but it mattered to him, and he didn’t like handing things over unless they were perfect.

Rachel was a willing accomplice. Of course she didn’t know what she was helping him with, but sometimes the less she knew the better. The last thing Kurt wanted was to be badgered at every turn because he accidentally let something slip about Blaine. He’d just mentioned that he wanted to go back to the Big Bang and if she had a free night she should let him know. It was his way of getting to spend time with her, and also not constantly showing up there on his own.

“Kurt, you can’t let me get drunk this time,” she said as they stood near the front of the line, waiting to gain entry to the bar. “I hardly think it would be good for me to get a reputation at a place like this. What if they want a guest vocalist for an evening? They’d never call up a girl who threw up on one of their security people; I could almost guarantee you that.”

“I’ll do my best,” he agreed. “Just stay away from the tequila this time.”

“It’s a deal.” They made it inside and down the stairs, and it was just as crowded as the first night they’d been. Rachel grabbed onto his arm and gestured toward the stage. “These are the ones who were here the first night I came!”

“Great – you want to grab a place to sit and I’ll go get drinks?” Kurt asked loudly over the music, waiting for her nod of agreement before starting his way toward the bar. There was someone behind the counter who wasn’t Brittany, and he hadn’t factored that into his plan at all. He knew he hadn’t been there that many times, but she’d always been right there.

“Can I get something for you?” He’d been too busy searching out the area for a glimpse of her; he hadn’t even noticed the bartender come over.

“Cosmo and a vodka tonic?” Kurt asked, getting a nod in return and reaching for his wallet. “Is Brittany not working tonight?”

“She’s around,” the bartender replied, giving him a skeptical look.

“I just asked because she made me a drink a week or so ago, and I don’t know what went in it so I wouldn’t know how to get it from anyone else,” Kurt said quickly, not wanting to come off as a stalker or anything. “It’s fine, there are lots of other things to drink.”

“It’s been a rough night, she’s on a break right now,” the bartender supplied, apparently appeased enough to not find him threatening. He set the drinks he’d ordered on the counter in front of him and took Kurt’s card, starting a tab. “She’ll be back in a bit.”

“Thanks.” Kurt grabbed their drinks and scanned the bar for Rachel. It would have been difficult to find her had she actually managed to find them a table, but it only took him a few seconds to see her standing off to the side, very obviously flirting with Puck. He made his way over and held her drink out to her, which she took with a smile.

“Kurt, you remember Puck,” she said as her way of an introduction. “He was just telling me that the performers we saw last time don’t actually work here. I was asking about them, of course, because I didn’t know how many different ones they have but I was certain there was some kind of rotation involved.”

“Right,” Kurt said with a nod, taking a sip of his drink to keep from saying much more. “Did you want me to get a table?”

“That would be perfect.” Kurt turned to scope one out, figuring his vantage point was better from off to the side than wandering in aimlessly. “Kurt’s a fashion designer. He was going to go into theatre, like me, but instead he went down a different path. Oh, did I not tell you about the show I just auditioned for? It was for this company…”

Kurt spotted a table near the very back and wormed his way to it, squeezing into one of the chairs. Part of him felt sorry for Puck, because there was very little chance that Rachel was going to stop talking to him until he had to go play, but he hadn’t seemed too annoyed about it. Kurt couldn’t help but instantly like anyone who could take a barrage of conversation from Rachel Berry and do so without looking bored or irritated.

The performers were good, but they were no Blaine or Santana. Then again, maybe Kurt was biased.

Rachel eventually made her way back to the table, right as it seemed like Puck was going to go on stage, and plopped down in the chair next to him. He clinked his glass against hers in greeting, offering her a smile. She bit her lip with a grin, and there was a look that he’d seen more than a few times before. It was one of those things – Rachel was no good at hiding it when she had a crush and was serious about it.

“Oh hush, he’s cute!” she said, before Kurt even had a chance to open his mouth. “And he’s nice!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“No, but you were thinking things.” She stuck her tongue out at him and turned in her chair to face the stage a little more, watching as the band came on.

Kurt savored his drink, occasionally glancing back toward the bar to see if Brittany had come back. That was the nice part about being stuck at a table on the back of the floor – it meant that they were right up against where the balcony was, so all he had to do was turn his head and glance through the people standing up against the railing to be able to see the bar. It was a while before he saw her, a flash of blonde hair catching his eye, but by that time he didn’t even need to down the rest of his drink to have an excuse to go up – it was already gone.

Rather than fight his way back through all the tables and chairs to get out, Kurt carefully stepped up onto his chair and ducked his way under the railing to get up to the bar. He reached down and Rachel handed him his glass, tapping her own as an indication that she wanted another one. That worked just fine, but she would have to wait – assuming the bar wasn’t uncommonly busy.

Whatever the bartender had meant by it being a rough night, it showed. Brittany was moving behind the counter with all the enthusiasm of someone who hadn’t slept in days. She was making drinks, but not in the same flippant way she had when he’d been there before. He stood down at the end of the bar, waiting both for his turn and for there to be less people demanding her attention.

“Oh my gosh, Kurt,” Brittany said when she saw him, reaching out her hands almost like she was going to reach across the counter and hug him, but the dropping them down to her sides. “I thought you’d forgotten.”

“Forgotten what?”

“That you said you would come back.” She glanced over as someone at the other end called out for a beer, but one of the servers breezed past them and said she would handle it. “But you’re here! Yay.”

“Do you think I could get a Happy Happy Unicorn?” he asked, and as silly as it felt to say, it was definitely worth it for the way she smiled. “And a Cosmo, too.”

“Absolutely.” She made his drink quickly, but with obvious care, and even added an extra cherry as she slid it over to him, before putting together a Cosmo for Rachel. “Anything else?”

“I know you’re busy, but whenever you have a minute I have something to show you,” Kurt said, biting at the inside of his lip. “If you can’t right now, that’s okay, I’m just sitting right on the other side of the railing.”

“Oh.” Brittany paused, glancing over at the line of people pressed against the counter. “I just got back from a break, but… in a little bit?”

“Sounds perfect. Thanks for these.” Kurt offered her a smile and took the drinks back to the table, passing them down to Rachel before climbing back into his seat.

Two more sets passed before Brittany found her way to their table, and she did it right after Rachel had left to go find Puck again. Kurt thought that maybe she should try to play a little harder to get, but that wasn’t exactly her style. She was much more of the type to demand what she wanted from the world and not stop until she got it, so he hoped Puck was ready for that. He didn’t have much chance to think about it before Brittany was slipping under the railing and dropping into Rachel’s abandoned seat.

“I’m really happy to see you,” she said, leaning in closer so she didn’t have to talk quite as loudly to be heard. “I like when faces I know come in.”

“I’m glad,” Kurt replied, digging into his bag and pulling out his sketchbook. “So the lighting in here is awful…”

“Did you draw more pictures?” Brittany asked, her face lighting up.

“Sort of,” he said, flipping through until he found the page he was looking for. “You got me thinking last time I was in here, about the clothes people wear at work as opposed to the clothes they wear when they’re being themselves.” He passed it over, watching her as her gaze scanned over the page.

The one thing Kurt had never been good with was faces. He couldn’t draw them to save his life. He could draw the shape, sure, but none of the details therein. When he was focused on the clothes, it seemed like an unnecessary luxury to bother with faces and hairstyles and what not when none of that was particularly relevant to what he was doing. For the dress he drew for Brittany, he’d tried. The details of the face weren’t there, but the blonde hair was – long and slightly wavy and flying all over around the face and shoulders.

“Oh wow, this is pretty,” she said quietly, running her fingertips down the edge of the page. It took her a second, of tracing around the blonde and pink, before she looked up at him with wide eyes. “Is this me?”

“Like I said, you got me thinking,” he replied, waving his hand airily as if it wasn’t a big deal. “And inspired. So… yes.”

“Kurt.” She looked like she was going to cry, and that hadn’t exactly been his intention.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Kurt, this is the nicest thing anyone… anyone’s ever done for me,” she said, shaking her head and looking down at the sketch again. “It’s been an awful night and people have been rude and mean and you drew me and… I love pink.”

“I’m sorry it’s been a bad night.”

“Can I keep it?” she asked, looking up at him hopefully.

“No,” he answered, hesitating as her face fell. “But… I was thinking of making the real thing, and that would be to keep.”

“What?”

“I draw a lot and rarely get to actually create right now, so it would be good practice,” Kurt explained. “I mean, I’d probably end up making it anyway but I designed it for you so obviously if you wanted it… it would be a good addition to my portfolio.” Brittany’s arms were around his neck before he could realize what was happening, and she hugged him tightly. “Just don’t tell anybody, or I might get in trouble at my job.”

“I won’t,” she whispered, and she didn’t let go for an entire song. Her number was scrawled onto a napkin and tucked into his jacket pocket before she hauled herself up over the railing to get back to the bar, and Kurt was really glad they’d chosen that night to go.

They were there until the end of the night, as Rachel had wanted to enjoy Puck’s last performance and Kurt was taking his job of keeping her from being drunk seriously. His phone buzzed with missed texts once they hit street level, as the cell service down in the bar was nonexistent. Apparently it had been a crazy night in Columbus, as Blaine had sent him dozens of texts between sets, and the last one had been sent right before Kurt had gotten out. He bid Rachel a goodnight and weighed his options before calling Blaine.

“Oh God, did my texts wake you up?” Blaine said as he answered his phone. “I am so sorry.”

“No, I wasn’t asleep,” Kurt replied quickly, shoving his free hand in his jacket pocket as he walked down the street toward the subway. “Sounds like you had a fun night.”

“I’m starting to wonder if I win for most fun night, considering how late it is and how you’re still awake. Hot date?” It was a playful question that could have meant absolutely nothing or everything. It was hard to read when he couldn’t see Blaine’s face, that little hint of a grin twitching at the corners of his mouth like it did when he was teasing.

“Mhmm,” Kurt hummed, figuring that if Blaine could play that game, he could too. “It was with a short brunette who was determined not to get drunk. Lots of good music and conversation… probably doing it again here soon.”

“Oh.”

“It was Rachel.” He felt slightly bad for teasing him, but he hadn’t missed that dejected tone of Blaine’s voice. That wasn’t allowed when Blaine was the one who started it.

“Oh! Rachel, right.” Blaine chuckled lightly. “I’m glad you guys had fun. I mean, mine was just work. I did get to see a guy get tossed because he didn’t understand the simple rule of staying off the stage. Honestly, I’m surprised security got to him before Santana broke his arm.”

“Was that a possibility?”

“She’s really not a fan of drunk guys touching her.”

“Ah yes, I can see how that would be a problem. Who is, really?” Kurt paused as he got to the stairs leading down into the subway. If he went down, he knew the call would get dropped. “Other than that, nothing too bad?”

“Fairly normal night,” Blaine said, yawning. “Long night, though. It’s great when we have a good crowd, but it’s exhausting. I’m going to sleep forever.”

“Hopefully not forever. That’s called a coma, Blaine.”

“Alright fine, not forever,” he corrected. “But for a long time. It’s the middle of the night; I didn’t realize we were being so literal.”

“I didn’t realize you were so prone to hyperbole.”

“Kurt,” Blaine whined, and Kurt drew in a sharp breath because he sounded adorable and tired and he shouldn’t be allowed to say his name like that. “Why are you being so mean? I’ve been working all night and when I saw you calling I thought, well this is going to be the best end to the night ever, but now you’re being mean to me.”

“Oh hush, I’m just joking,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes. “You go sleep forever, Blaine. I have to get on the subway.”

“What fun for you. Have a safe ride, Kurt.”

“Sleep well, Blaine.”