“Santana!” Blaine whispered urgently, flushing a shade of red that matched his gaudy apron. “You can’t just…you can’t do that!”

“Relax, worry guts, your boss won’t be back ‘til four” said Santana, leisurely making her way back to the counter.

“What? How do you know his-”

Santana cut him short, waving a hand dismissively. “I have my…ways.” After a pause, she laughed. “Oh come on, Blaine Warbler, it’s about time you got some ass!”

“Wha-shut up oh my fu- hi, sorry, would you like a muffin with that?” Blaine recovered, as he tried to serve a now horrified elderly customer. He watched as she picked up her drink, murmured something like ‘filthy youth’ and tottered away.  Blaine turned to face Santana emphatically.

“Aaand this is why I can’t bring you to work. First the customers-” he said, looking apologetically at the ones Santana had insulted, “and now that.”

Blaine gestured helplessly towards the ‘that’ in question: a black board that stood outside the Lima Bean which usually had the day’s recommendations scrawled onto it in white chalk. Except today, the recommendation was a little more personal.

Today your barista is:

 1. Hella fucking Gay

2. Desperately single

For your drink today I recommend: You give me your number

After  seeing a few more people see the sign, double-take, look straight into the shop for the ‘hella fucking single’  and spot his mortified face, Blaine resigned to putting his head in his arms on the counter top.

“Hey, don’t blame me, not my fault you need to get laid Anderson…desperate times call for desperate measures and you are definitely desperate.”Santana laughed after hearing him groan. “Besides, I’ll let you take credit for the sass...”

“Yes, thank you Santana…” Blaine said into his arms. “Honestly, even if some guy did come in I doubt they’d find hella fucking gay or desperately single that attractive.”

Santana was suspiciously silent. “Santana…?” Blaine started to raise his head, when a voice answered.

“ I’d beg to differ.”

Blaine’s head shot up so quickly he made himself dizzy, his tongue stumbling over his words. Though, to be honest, the appearance of the boy alone would have left him speechless enough.

“Heurghm…uhh…” Blaine cleared his throat. “Um, hi.”  

“Hi,” the boy with the bright blue eyes answered. Blaine noticed a wicked grin tugging at the corner of his lips. He also noticed that Santana had conveniently disappeared.

“Hi” said Blaine, wide-eyed. He blinked a couple of times, before he realised the boy had started to giggle at his repetition. “Um-”

“You err, you have a little something just…” the boy motioned to Blaine’s forehead, before the crept smile crept back into his porcelain complexion.

Fumbling his hands a little, Blaine fussed with a curl that had come loose from its gel as he tried to brush off whatever was on his forehead. Realising that this possibly wasn’t the most suave way of charming this guy, he smoothed down his apron and leant on the counter, attempting the offhand, relaxed look.

“So, what can I get you?”

Blue-eyes grinned.

“Well, I was going to order a grande non-fat mocha but-” he turned towards the board outside, and Blaine couldn’t help noticing a few brown strands of the boy’s coiffed hair come loose, “your sign is very persuasive.”

Blaine gave up the pose and ran his hand through his hair, an embarrassed laugh escaping him.

“Ah… yeah, my friend has got some grovelling to do…” He looked glanced round the coffee shop for Santana’s black ponytail but felt his eyes drawn back to Blue-Eyes.

 “Oh you mean the girl who winked at literally every guy on her way out?”

“Yup…That’s sound about right” he laughed, his hazel eyes meeting with the blue. They held each others’ gaze for an infinite moment before a gruff coughing fit from the customer behind Blue-Eyes broke the spell.

“Um so that was a grande non-fat mocha , right?” Blaine said, trying to busy himself by wiping the cocoa-covered countertop. He heard a rustle, a few quick clicks, Blue-Eyes inhaling deeply - he looked up.

Blaine was suddenly very aware that his eyes were only a few centimetres away from Blue-Eyes’. Their lips were even closer.

“I’ll take your recommended drink, actually.”  Blue-Eyes placed a napkin into Blaine’s hand without breaking eye-contact. “I’m Kurt.”

“Blaine.”

Held together by some magnetic charm, they simply smiled at each other until Kurt’s gaze shifted and he giggled. He took the dishcloth and dabbed Blaine’s nose.

“Text me sometime” he whispered before giving Blaine one last breathtaking smile and bounced out the coffee shop, beaming.

“Kurt” Blaine repeated, looking down at the ink-blotted napkin in awe of the past few minutes.

He noticed a brown spot on the dishcloth. Cocoa powder.

Confused, he looked at his reflection in the coffee machine. In particular, his nose. Cocoa powder. He had had cocoa powder on his nose the entire time.

He groaned but he wasn’t upset. He didn’t think anything could ruin his mood today. He smiled.

Kurt.