The first time he sees him, it's a year later and it's too soon.

He's still angry and bitter and seeing him on the other side of the room, flirting with some punk in a tight shirt, just ruins his celebratory mood. He throws back the shot he ordered and goes to tell his co-star Andrew that he's leaving. He flings his jacket over his shoulders once he's outside, the brisk fall weather hitting him as soon as he steps out of the warm pub.

He's angry with himself. Tonight was supposed to be all about him and his first big role on Broadway and now it's just ruined. Blaine Anderson is in his past and he's not supposed to be affected by him.

Whistling for a cab, he climbs in and gives the address to his flat. He would just have to do better.

It's all in the past. He's no longer important to me.

888

The next time he sees him, it's two years after the first.

He's no longer bitter or angry. He's a grown man and not one to cling to the past. His boyfriend, Reggie, wants to go to this small pub to hear this "amazing singer that you'll just love, babe" and since he has a night off and late rehearsals the next day, he agrees.

It's crowded and smoky but Reggie knows the manager and gets them good seats along the wall with a perfect view of the stage. He sips his wine, enjoying the bouquet, and talks to Reggie while they wait. When the lights grow dim (well, dimmer), a hush steals over the crowd.

"It's gonna be awesome, babe, Blaine is the next big thing!" Reggie whispers, leaning close to Kurt's ear.

His heart stutters for a moment and he stares at him before movement in his peripheral vision causes his attention to shift to the stage.

And there he is, a tight white shirt and well worn jeans, perched on a stool with a guitar on his lap. His hair, always so neatly cut and carefully styled, has grown out, leaving his head a riot of curls. His eyes are tired but he's smiling, looking out over the assembled group.

"Hello, everybody." That's all the introduction he does before he starts strumming and Kurt is taken back in time to the first night in their New York apartment together. They had unpacked the essentials and ordered takehome and Blaine had spent the night serenading him.

When he starts singing about wide, innocent eyes on staircases a couple of songs into the set, Kurt feels the memories flooding him and, forcing them back, tugs on Reggie's shirt.

"I'm not feeling well, can we leave?" he begs. Reggie frowns but nods, grabbing their waitress as she walks by to settle the check. Kurt already has his coat and is heading for the door when the song changes, flowing to Somewhere Only We Know seamlessly and he can't stop the sob that tears from his chest as he pushes out the door into the cool spring air.

888

Four years later, he sees him again.

Against his will and, perhaps, his better judgment, Kurt begins following his career, watching as he buds from singing in smoky pubs to cutting his first album, then his second as the first goes platinum. He watches as he grows bigger and bigger and he can't help but feel proud.

He hears from Rachel that Blaine's back in town after his latest tour and he thanks her but has to go. His show is starting in an hour and he needs to get into his game face.

Unfortunately, now all he can think about is Blaine. He doesn't let that effect his performance, but it lingers in his mind the rest of the night and after the show is done and he's changed into his street clothes, he heads to his favourite pub, two blocks from his apartment.

Nodding to Alex, the bartender, he hops onto a stool and grins appreciatively when the man slides a martini in front of him.

"Just the way you like it," he adds, winking. Kurt winks back. Alex is probably one of the straightest men ever, but he always flirts with him.

He doesn't bother looking over when someone slides in the stool next to him. It's crowded, for a weeknight, and there aren't very many seats in the first place. It's not until the familiar scent, somewhat deluded from the general smell of the bar, hits him that he chances a glance over.

"Hello, Kurt."

"Blaine." It comes out breathier than he'd have liked and he mentally scolds himself. "You look well, how have you been?"

There it is, the slow grin he's missed so much in recent years. "I've been okay. You know, making records and whatnot. I see that your career is just flourishing."

To his embarrassment, Kurt could feel himself blushing, but he went on, "I've done well for myself. And you're being modest; I know your second album just hit gold."

Blaine laughs, "Yeah, I'm pretty proud of that one." Alex comes over to get his order and refill Kurt's martini.

They sit there for hours, catching up and just talking. Finally, Alex is forced to kick them out because it's closing time. The pair stands out in front, neither wanting to walk away but both needing to get home. When Kurt tells him his address, Blaine grins.

"I'm right down the street from you, actually." He gestures for Kurt to walk with him as he heads towards their street. The silence between them isn't awkward or uncomfortable and Kurt silently thanks whoever for small favours.

"I saw you that night," Blaine says suddenly. Kurt looks at him curiously until he elaborates. "At the pub with that guy. You came to hear my set and then bailed."

"Oh." The blush from earlier comes rushing back. "Yeah, Reggie had heard about how 'awesome' you were and thought it would make a good date night." Kurt snorts.

"Reggie, huh?"

Kurt nudges him playfully as he snickers. "Yeah, that was a short lived romance. The man reminded me too much of Puck."

They laugh and fall silent once more until they reach Kurt's building. "Thanks for walking home with me," Kurt says, feeling too much like this had been a date.

"Yeah, no problem, like I said, I'm right down the street." Blaine grabs his arm as he turns to go in the building. "Kurt, wait."

"Yes?"

He shifts nervously, still lightly holding onto Kurt's elbow. "Would you like to go out with me? Tomorrow night? I mean, I know you have a show, but maybe after we could have a late dinner or something."

Kurt smiles. "I would love to. My number is the same, if you still have it."

Blaine nods, glad to be facing away from the streetlight so his blush remains hidden. "I'll call you tomorrow."

Kurt moves back, capturing Blaine's hand when it falls from his arm and squeezing it gently. "I look forward to it."

As he watches him walk away, Kurt thinks about how things have changed. He had always thought that he and Blaine were supposed to end up together, but after everything that happened, he had lost hope of ever finding 'the one.'

Now, a bad break up and seven years of not speaking later, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, they're on the right track.