Kurt strutted into The Daily Planet, straight to the Editor-in-Chief's office, humming "Rose's Turn" under his breath.

Everything's coming up Kurt…everything's coming up Hummel…

And for once his life, it really did feel that things were finally going his way. At least they were this morning—he was having a good hair day, the subway was on time, and he had found a bouquet of roses on his balcony with the note Tonight, 8 o'clock.

Kurt burst into Sue's office, blatantly disregarding her strict knocking policy, and hung up the phone call she was on.

"KURT HUMMEL! WHAT THE—HOW DARE YOU! THAT WAS—"

Kurt cut her off by slamming down a small stack of stapled paper on her desk. "Read."

Sue shot him a deathly glare before doing so. Yet as soon as her eyes scanned the title of Kurt's piece, her entire expression changed immediately. She looked up at him and spoke seriously, "Is this real?"

"Of course it is," Kurt told her. "If you'd actually read it, you'd see there's stuff in there I couldn't make up."

"Where did you find him?"

"He found me."

"Where?"

"The roof. I was working late last night and went up for a smoke and there he was, ready and willing."

"Mmmm," Sue replied, returning her attention to the story and reading intently. Kurt let out a satisfied sigh and relaxed into one of Sue's intentionally uncomfortable desk chairs (one of her many scare tactics). But not even the steel wool could impair Kurt's good mood. A few more minutes passed before Sue finished and made eye contact with him again. "This is good."

"I feel like good may be a slight understatment," Kurt gloated.

"It's good," she reaffirmed. "Now get out of my office."

"What? Sue, I thought you'd be jumping for joy over this!" Kurt exclaimed, baffled by his boss's behavior.

"Hummel, if my involvement Operation Desert Storm taught me anything, it's not to show emotion. But I need you to get out. We're releasing a special afternoon issue and your story's the cover. Now leave, I have a ridiculous amount of phone calls to make."

Kurt beamed and bolted out of his editor's office. He may have been a bit dramatic back there (blame it on his history in show choir and fondness for musical theatre) but Kurt needed to get his point across. Kurt Hummel was never going back to writing obituaries, Kurt Hummel was going to win Pulitzers (note the plural). By the time he reached his desk, Kurt had finished "Rose's Turn" and moved on to "Some People".

"You're in a good mood," Blaine observed.

"Mhmm," Kurt hummed in reply.

Kurt carried on a conversation with Blaine half-heartedly for the next ten minutes or so. He had perfected the art of knowing when to "mhmm" in agreement when talking to Blaine, allowing him to zone out and think about something completely different while appearing to be listening to his rambling. Kurt was in the middle of brainstorming possible outfits for tonight when he heard Blaine say "Really? Neat! I'll pick you up tomorrow at eight!"

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

0-0-0

"I think I accidentally agreed to go on a date with Blaine Anderson."

Mercedes and Tina erupted into laughter. Really loud, obnoxious laughter. So loud and obnoxious that Kurt was pretty sure that people could hear them on the street below.

"It's not funny!" Kurt pouted.

"You're right," Mercedes gasped in between giggles. "It's hilarious!"

"How do you even do something like that?" Tina questioned, out of breath from laughing as well.

"Well he was rambling on like usual, and I wasn't paying enough attention and the next thing I knew he told me he'd pick me up at eight tomorrow," Kurt recounted. "What am I going to do?"

"You're going to go on the date," Mercedes told him unsympathetically. "You made your bed, now you have to lay in it."

Kurt cast a desperate glance at Tina, but she shook her head. "No, Mercedes's is right. Besides, it's just one date."

"But it's one date with Blaine Anderson!" Kurt protested. "Do you know how much he talks? That's like three dates with a normal person!"

Tina snickered. "That's true. Ciggy?"

"No thanks. I'm trying to cut back," Kurt informed her. Tina and Mercedes gaped at him, then at each other, and then back at Kurt.

"Okay, what's his name?" Mercedes demanded.

"What are you talking about?" he questioned, trying to keep his tone from betraying any emotion.

"Kurt, you have never refused a cigarette from anyone, and that includes a homeless man…"

"That was one time!"

"…so if you're not smoking, it must mean there's a guy involved," Tina finished.

"I resent that," Kurt scoffed. "Maybe I'm cutting back because of the various threats smoking poses to one's health, or how expensive they're getting, or—"

"You realize we aren't buying a single word of that, right?" Mercedes interjected.

Kurt sighed. "Okay, it's a guy."

Tina squealed. "What's his name! What's he like? Where'd you meet him?"

Kurt hesitated. Superman had trusted him. He couldn't go blabbing about his homosexuality to the two biggest gossips in Metropolis. Kurt did his best to censor the story on the spot, "You don't know him. I met him at…a bar after I finished working on my story with Blaine. He's not out of the closet, so I don't want to say too much—"

"Wait," Mercedes interrupted him. "He's still in the closet?"

"Yeah," Kurt replied. "But…we did kiss last night, so—"

"Kurt!" Tina shrieked. "That's great! It's about time you got a boyfriend!"

"Well, I think boyfriend might be a little forward," Kurt confessed. He honestly had no idea what he and Superman were, but hopefully they'd settle that tonight. "But, I'm seeing him again tonight."

"Wonderful!" Tina said. "Now we can triple date!"

"Yeah," Mercedes agreed. "I'm so happy you found someone."

Kurt shrugged his shoulders, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible since he'd been here a million times before. He liked a guy, the guy reciprocated (or Kurt misconstrued his actions to make it look like he reciprocated), and then things didn't work out and Kurt spent the following weekend stranded on the couch eating ice cream and watching Ten Things I Hate About You. This time he had to be extra careful, Kurt hadn't fallen for someone so hard since his misguided crush on his future step-brother back in high school. Though it was probably going to be a futile effort, Kurt had to at least try to play it cool with Superman. "Now if I could only decide on what to wear."

0-0-0

Three hours and fifty-five minutes later, Kurt still hadn't decided on what to wear. Clothing was strewn all over Kurt's bedroom in addition to the hair and skin products scattered across his bathroom counter as evidence of his indecision. Kurt surveyed himself in the mirror; he was on outfit option number sixteen and hair style number four. His current ensemble consisted of his McQueen powder blue half-sleeve dress shirt, paired with a white and navy striped tie (also McQueen), white skinny jeans, a thin beige belt, and his silver tongue low sneakers.

I look stupid, I need to change had been Kurt's consensus on about every outfit he tried on, and although this one had been marginally better than the last fifteen, it still wasn't right. He was just about to return to the recesses of his closet when he heard a knocking on the door.

Kurt froze. This is it. He had been so immersed in picking out an outfit that he had lost sight of what he was actually getting ready for—a date with Superman. Because Superman was gay. Kurt took a few cleansing, calming breaths before leaving the comfort of his bedroom. He crossed the living room to the French doors that led to the small balcony attached to Kurt's apartment. Superman was there waiting as Kurt opened the door.

"Hi," he breathed, his eyes roaming over Superman's compact and muscular form. Looking at the body would never get old.

"Hello," Superman grinned. "Nice place."

"Oh, thank you," Kurt replied, suddenly feeling awkward. Should I invite him in? No, would that look too forward? "Would you like to come in? I have some wine…"

"No, thanks. I don't drink and fly," Superman told him.

"I'm sorry," Kurt apologized. "I wasn't think—"

"It's okay," Superman assured him. "I was joking."

"Oh right," Kurt responded. He despised how as soon as he was in Superman's presence Kurt turned into a bumbling idiot.

Superman smiled at him, but there was something different about this smile. The amusement and aloofness was still there, yet now there was something else. It looked a lot like lust to Kurt, but he was still wary to label it as such.

"I don't have much time, but I was wondering" the hero began, taking a step closer to Kurt. "If you wanted to take a ride with me."

Kurt's mind instantly fogged up with inappropriate thoughts at the potential double entendre in addition to Superman's proximity to his body. He swallowed audibly and shook the naughty thoughts out of his head. "You mean flying?"

"Only if you want to," Superman told him, locking gazes with Kurt. "I know the last time you did, it was a rather traumatic experience."

"No, that's okay…I want to." Kurt said. "Should I go get a sweater or something?"

"I don't think that'll be necessary, I'll keep you warm," chuckled Superman, stepping behind Kurt and wrapping an arm securely around his waist while the other came to rest of Kurt's shoulder. "Are you ready?"

"Uh-huh." Kurt blamed his lack of speech abilities on the fact that Superman was pressing firmly into his back.

He felt Superman bend behind him and then watched his feet lift off the ground. Kurt's breath hitched at the sight, and he felt Superman's grip around him tighten in response. They rotated so their bodies were parallel to the streets below them and proceeded forward at brisk pace.

Flying was even more exhilarating than Kurt had remembered, but that was probably because he wasn't preoccupied with almost dying this time and could fully appreciate the experience. He reveled in the weightless feeling, the way the night breeze tickled his face, and having Superman pressed up against him certainly didn't suck. Kurt looked down and noticed that they were passing over the arch in Washington Square Park. He tried to sneak a glance at Superman, but when he subtly tried to peer over at him, he saw that Superman was doing the same to Kurt.

Kurt immediately blushed and teased, "Eyes on the road."

Superman laughed but complied. Kurt wondered if he could hear how fast his heart was beating. He looked down again and noticed that they were flying over Chinatown, heading for the Financial District.

"This is amazing," Kurt told him, glancing over at Superman again. It truly was. How many people dreamed of flying? And Kurt actually got to do it…well, he had a little help.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it," Superman smiled back.

Kurt observed that they were heading for the river. "Where are we going exactly?"

"The Statue of Liberty."

"Of course," Kurt laughed. "Truth, justice, and the American way."

Suddenly they stopped, Kurt and Superman hovering hundreds of feet over the edge of Metropolis. Superman shifted them into a standing position, keeping Kurt flush against his chest, his eyes full of concern.

"We don't have to," he said tenderly, and for the first time, Superman seemed unsure. "We can go somewhere else."

Kurt took a few moments to respond, he had temporarily lost himself in the intense gaze of his hazel eyes as well as the warmth and security of Superman's grasp. This is really happening, he thought to himself, Superman is taking you on a romantic flight over Metropolis…and you're making fun of him. Acting completely on impulse, Kurt closed the distance between their lips. He couldn't help but sigh into the liplock, kissing Superman was just as wonderful as he remembered, and Kurt felt the hero's hold on his waist tighten as he attempted to pull them impossibly closer to each other.

After a few more moments of relatively chaste kissing (still no tongue), Superman reluctantly pulled away, a look of surprise, satisfaction, and confusion playing on his striking features.

"I want to do whatever you want to do," Kurt said, a little out of breath from the kiss.

Superman broke into a grin that was unmistakably colored with lust. "Careful there, Kurt, I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into with a statement like that."

"Well, Superman," Kurt crooned in reply, his hands sliding beginning to trace the curve the hero's biceps. "I think I know exactly what I'm getting myself into with a statement like th—"

Kurt's attempt at being sexy was disturbed by a yelp as he was pulled back into a horizontal position and felt himself hurtling forward into the night. Kurt watched as the myriad of streets and lights below him turned into cool, black water as Superman propelled them forward away from the city. They stopped a couple minutes later when they reached the iconic monument, both men studying it in silence.

Superman was the first to speak. "I know this isn't the most exciting place I could have taken you, but I can't help but feel a sort of connection with her. She's from a foreign land like I am and she still…she is this beacon of freedom, liberty, and hope. I know people aren't as proud as America as they used to be, but I can't help but feel patriotic whenever I see her. One day, well, I just hope that one day I can be a symbol of democracy like she is."

"You will," Kurt replied confidently. Superman gave him a tentative glance. "You will. And this is coming from a very jaded journalist."

"Well if you say so," he murmured, their lips drifting together once again.

I could definitely get used to this, Kurt mused as his lips moved in synchronization with Superman's. He had mustered up enough to courage to begin to poke his tongue out when Superman broke the kiss again.

"Kurt," he purred, their lips still dangerously close together. "What's your stance on rollercoasters?"

Kurt's brow wrinkled in confusion. That's a rather odd thing to ask someone after you kiss them. Ugh, don't tell me it's the opener to a god-awful pickup line. "I'm a fan."

"Then you'll be okay if I do this."

"Do wha—"

The couple rapidly plummeted hundreds of feet towards the river, Kurt slammed his eyes shut, preparing himself for the ice-cold splash, but it never came. He opened one eye warily, and noticed that he was hovering about three feet over the river. He exhaled in relief and then glimpse sideways at a smirking Superman.

"Jeez, why do you keep doing that?" Kurt demanded, his tone exasperated but still playful.

Superman shrugged. "It's fun. I like getting a rise out of you."

Ignore the double entendre, ignore the double entendre, Kurt chanted to himself. For someone who was so keen on romance, Kurt was finding his mind in the gutter increasingly often since he began spending time with Superman. They were beginning to head back to city and Kurt could barely believe the reflection the glassy water created. There he was, nestled in Superman's grip, his hair windswept and his lips betraying the slightest bit of swelling, with a look on his face that even Kurt didn't recognize on himself. He looked…happy. And not just "bought a new scarf" happy or even "cover story" happy—the kind of happiness that was only happened when you were in…

No, Kurt stopped himself. There's no way I'm in…that. He reached out his hand, allowing a fingertip to skim along the water's surface in an effort to distract himself from his dangerous thoughts.

Before he knew it, Superman was lowering the pair back down onto Kurt's balcony, but they were both reluctant to let each other go.

"Th-thanks for the ride," Kurt mumbled, unable to tear his gaze away from Superman's lips.

"Anytime," he breathed in reply, surging forward and capturing Kurt's mouth in a languid kiss. The reporter responded eagerly, pressing himself closer into the warmth of Superman's body. Kurt felt Superman lick the line where Kurt's lips met, clearly a request for entrance, and Kurt parted his lips readily. Finally, he remarked inwardly as Superman's tongue slipped into his mouth, unable to contain the satisfied moan made consequently. Kurt engaged his tongue with Superman's in a lazy dance, his hands fiddling with the hair at the base of Superman's neck while the hero rubbed little circles into each of Kurt's hipbones with his thumbs.

It had been so long since Kurt had just kissed someone. Usually the guys he "dated" used kissing as a way to distract Kurt from protesting when they went in for an ass-grab. And as much as Kurt wanted to do the same to Superman (because his butt was probably just as perfect as the rest of him), he resisted. He'd actually found a guy who was a gentlemen, and Kurt didn't want to mess this up.

Their kissing had become progressively more heated, but Superman suddenly broke the delicious suction and jumped back like Kurt had shocked him with his tongue.

"I have to go," he told Kurt, his pained expression conflicting with the steadfastness of his words.

"But, I..." Kurt wanted to pout. He wanted to gripe and throw a fit and if necessary, he was ready to beg. Of course, he couldn't. Because yelling No! Don't go rescue people, just stay here with me wouldn't exactly paint a flattering picture of himself. "Will I see you again?"

That peculiar, amused smile that always vexed Kurt appeared on Superman's lips. "Before you know it."