#gleesecretsanta

It was New Year’s in New York.

 was New Year’s in New York, and Kurt Hummel was by himself for the first time ever.

Kurt didn’t spend the holidays alone, though. Rachel went home to Lima, but Burt surprised Kurt by coming to New York, and bringing along Blaine with him. It was interesting having Blaine there, especially after their break-up, but it was also nice to have someone there that Kurt knew would be able to comfort him after Burt told Kurt that he had prostate cancer.

That was something Kurt was not expecting. Kurt had done everything in his power to make sure his dad stayed healthy, including monthly visits to the doctor’s for full body examinations, and each month, he was healthy and fine. So, of course, his dad’s body decided to form cancer as soon as he left Lima. The thought of losing his dad before he was able to graduate from NYADA tore Kurt up on the inside. And, quite frankly, if Blaine hadn’t been there, despite past events, Kurt doesn’t know what he would have done.

When Blaine and Burt left the day after Christmas, Kurt could feel himself breaking down. He would spend hours upon hours researching prostate cancer, always coming up with the same answer. His dad had an above 90% chance of living for fifteen more years, but there is always the slight chance that Burt could be that “less-than-10%” that doesn’t make it. Finally, Kurt caved in and called Blaine in tears a day before New Year’s Eve, and told him what he had been doing for the past few days. Blaine stayed on the phone with Kurt until Kurt was fast asleep, and then booked a flight to New York for the next morning.

When Kurt heard knocking at the door at 10:30 in the morning, he was pretty confused. Rachel wasn’t supposed to be back until Saturday, and he didn’t know of anyone that was coming over today. Kurt groggily got up and made himself look somewhat presentable, and then opened the door, finding none other that Blaine himself, carrying a bottle of sparkling cider and a duffel bag.

“Need some company tonight?” Blaine said, giving a half-smile.

“I--… But what are you doing here?” Kurt stumbled over his words.

“You called me last night, and it was pretty clear that you needed someone with you right now, and I know I’m probably overstepping by showing up at your door on a Monday morning with cider and a duffel bag, but I just really thought—“

Blaine was cut off by Kurt hugging him, “Thank you for coming, Blaine.”

Blaine smiled, and then followed behind Kurt with his duffel bag on his shoulder. When he was here a few days ago, he didn’t really notice the décor in Kurt and Rachel’s apartment. It definitely fit both of their personalities, but it definitely looked like Kurt had most of the creative control. Blaine made a comment about it, and Kurt blushed a little.

Blaine put his stuff in Kurt’s part of the apartment, as per Kurt’s request, and then went to go sit on the couch.

Kurt moved around the apartment, unsure of what to say or do. It was different having Blaine here by himself. At least when Burt was here, there was some kind of mediator between the two of them, and now it’s just Kurt and Blaine in the apartment.

“Do you want anything to drink, Blaine?” Kurt asked.

“Water, please?” Blaine asked, not turning around to face Kurt.

Kurt nodded his head, and then went to get a glass to get Blaine his water.

Blaine really didn’t know what to say. He came out here on a limb, acting before thinking, and he forgot, somehow, that he and Kurt still weren’t on the best terms. They made up on Christmas Eve (or was it Christmas Day?), but Kurt made it clear that while he wants to be Blaine’s friend, Blaine needs to regain Kurt’s trust before they even consider being a couple again. Blaine knew he screwed up, big time, and he really wanted to be with Kurt again.

Kurt brought the water over to Blaine, and sat on the opposite side of the couch of Blaine. The two men sat in silence for a bit, unsure of what to say.

“Kurt—“

“Blaine—“

Kurt and Blaine let out a small chuckle, and Blaine motioned for Kurt to speak.

Kurt smiled, and then spoke, “Blaine, I’m really glad you’re here, but why exactly are you here?”

“You sounded so defeated when you called me, and I just… I felt like I never gave you enough attention when you were at McKinley or Dalton, and I felt like if I didn’t do this back then, I should try and do it now. I want to show you that I still care, and I just…. Fuck, do you know what I mean?” Blaine said, sounding defeated.

Kurt tried to hide a smile, “So, what were you going to say?”

Blaine chuckled, his eyes crinkling up. “I just wanted to ask if you were 100% sure with me staying here. I mean, I could totally just use my dad’s credit card and rent a hotel room if you wanted me to, because he totally wouldn’t notice. I kind of showed up unexpected, and I don’t think Rachel wants me to sleep in her bed, and I know you’re not comfortable sharing a bed with me, and I could totally fit on the couch, and it seems pretty comfortable, but it’s the whole ‘waking up to me in the apartment’ thing.”

“Blaine, I am completely fine with you staying here, and, I mean, if you want to, I feel comfortable enough to share my bed with you. I mean, it’s pretty good, and we’re friends now. It’ll just be like a sleepover when we were younger, just without parents around,” Kurt laughed.

Blaine smiled, and then scooted closer to Kurt. Kurt placed an arm around Blaine’s waist, and then pulled him closer. Blaine instinctively placed his head on Kurt’s shoulder, but then froze once he realized what he did.

“Kurt, I’m—“

“It’s fine, Blaine,” Kurt said softly.

Blaine placed his head back down on Kurt’s shoulder, and Kurt hesitantly rested his head on top of Blaine’s.

“So, how’s school going?” Kurt asked quietly.

“It’s okay. Glee Club has been disbanded until next year because of what Marley did at sectionals. But otherwise, things are going okay. Sam and I are getting ready to start planning prom, and there has been some interest in a Sadie Hawkins dance, but I just don’t know how I feel about that…”

“Could you let another club sponsor it, maybe? I mean, you wouldn’t be forced to attend it, but I can see how it could bring back some bad memories. What does Sam think?” Kurt asked.

Blaine sighed and then said, “He thinks it’s a good idea, and for the most part I agree with him, but it’s just that, god, that was such a horrible night for me. Do you think I could give Sam the job of planning it?”

Kurt hummed in agreement. “That seems like it could work. I would suggest supervising it though—you know how Sam can get.”

Blaine smiled, and snuggled into Kurt’s side. “So, what do you want to do tonight?”

Kurt smiled, and began running his hand through Blaine’s ungelled hair. “I was thinking that we could order some pizza and stay in to watch Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rocking Eve? I mean, we could go out to Times Square if you wanted, because I could probably get some hookup from Isabelle or something…”

“Staying in sounds good. It’ll be nice and warm,” Blaine said. “But could we possibly walk around until six or something? Maybe we can pick up a pizza on the way home? I kind of want to see what’s around you.”

“That sounds great, but let me just keep you here for a bit longer. I missed this,” Kurt said, letting out a small yawn.

A few moments turned into two hours, as the two men fell asleep on each other. Kurt woke up first, feeling disoriented and confused at whom he was sleeping on top of, and jerking up, which then caused Blaine to wake up.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I just woke up, and I felt myself resting on someone, and I was so confused and got kind of shocked. You’re okay, right? I didn’t hurt you or anything?” Kurt hurried.

Blaine laughed sleepily, and then shook his head, letting Kurt know that he didn’t hurt Blaine. “We can still go out, right?”

Kurt said a “yes,” and then got up to grab his shoes and his coat. He tossed Blaine’s coat to him from Kurt’s bedroom, and Blaine slipped on his shoes.

“Just as a warning, there’s not much around here-- a few shops and boutiques here and there, and a few tourist shops, as well as restaurants. It shouldn’t be a long walk, so we’ll definitely get back before the tourists start coming through here to get to Times Square.”

Kurt walked around the apartment to shut off all of the lights and make everything was turned off and unplugged, and then ushered Blaine outside the apartment, locking the door behind them. They walked down the stairs quietly, and didn’t say anything until at least ten minutes after they left the apartment.

“How’d you manage to get your apartment? I mean, it’s huge, and you’re in Bushwick,” Blaine asked.

“The landlord said that there was a lot of problems with the appliances and the wiring, so he said he’d give it to us for half the price, and despite what other people think, Rachel’s family is pretty well-off, and since she’s an only child, well, her dads were more than willing to help out with the rent. I guess it really does pay off to be a Berry,” Kurt smiled at Blaine. “Oh, we have to go to this place at some point. They have a whole wall of bowties, Blaine. I think you would piss yourself if you saw all the choices they had there. I walked in here one of the first days I moved here, and it just reminded me so strongly of you. I even bought a bowtie, intending to give it to you when you came to visit for the first time, or when I came home for the first time, depending on which happened first, but…” Kurt trailed off.

“Do you think we could talk about this later, Kurt? I came here to help cheer you up, not make you upset. I know we really need to talk about it, but can we do it later? I leave on Friday afternoon, so we can talk before then, but let’s just make the end of this year and the start of next year good moments, and then we can rip the bandage off,” Blaine said.

Kurt nodded in agreement, and then wrapped his hand protectively around Blaine’s waist. Blaine’s brain short-circuited, not sure of what Kurt was doing, but when Kurt gripped his waist, Blaine couldn’t help but lean in a little closer.

The two walked around a few blocks, stopping at some hole-in-the-wall pizzeria a block away from Kurt’s apartment building, and they walked back to the apartment in silence. As soon as they entered the apartment, Blaine got two plates out and set the table while Kurt set the pizza down and got drinks for himself and Blaine. There was some small talk, and some silences, but it was comfortable silences and small talk. As soon as they finished, Kurt picked up the dishes and washed them, while Blaine put the leftovers away.

“I’m going to change into my pyjamas, if you don’t mind. You can change on Rachel’s side if you want to,” Kurt said. “I’ll go ahead and turn on the television, if you want.”

“That sounds great,” Blaine replied. “I’ll be out in ten or so minutes.”

Kurt nodded, and then headed to his room.

Fuck, this is not going to end well. I’ve been to physical with him today, and I really just want to cuddle up with him tonight.

Blaine shared similar sentiments, swearing at himself silently in Rachel’s room. He knew that he shouldn’t be allowed to be doing any of this with Kurt, but he couldn’t help it. It was Kurt, and he missed holding and being held by Kurt. There was something about Kurt that just made him feel safe and warm, and Blaine wasn’t ready to let go of that.

“Hey, Blaine! I’m out in the living area, just so you know!” Kurt called to Blaine.

“Alright, I’ll be right out!” Blaine replied.

Get yourself together, Blaine. You can do this. Kurt has said when you guys were close that it was okay, and he even initiate some physical touch with me.

Kurt and Blaine settled on the couch together, with a bottle of sparkling cider sitting on the coffee table in front of them. They sat close together, but still had a comfortable distance between each other, allowing them to notice the other’s presence and warmth, but just enough space to allow a comfortable distance between two ex-boyfriends.

They sat in an awkward silence for quite a while, before Kurt broke the silence.

“This is too weird.”

Blaine fumbled over his words, trying to agree with Kurt.

“Can I sit closer, Blaine? It’s weird having you sit so close, but yet still so far away. Like maybe how we were before we went out. That wasn’t too weird, was it?”

Blaine shook his head, scooting over closer to Kurt, and Kurt threw his arm behind Blaine’s head. Blaine leaned his body closer to Kurt’s, settling into his side.

The two men watched the television for a while, and when the 11 o’clock news came on, they watched in silence, both wondering what would happen when midnight came along. Sure, they were broken up, but both Kurt and Blaine still harboured feelings for each other, and they were alone in New York City on New Year’s Eve.

Midnight quickly approached, and about five minutes before midnight, the news switched back over to Dick Clark’s. As the countdown began, both boys anxiously awaited for the countdown to finish.

10…

Blaine looked over at Kurt.

9…

Kurt bit his lip, noticing Blaine out of the corner of his eye.

8…

Blaine moved his body to face towards Kurt.

7…

Kurt turned to look at Blaine, and took a sharp breath in.

6…

Blaine brought a hand up to cup Kurt’s cheek.

5…

“Blaine,” Kurt breathed.

4…

“Tell me to stop,” Blaine whispered.

3…

“I don’t want to.”

2…

“…okay.”

1…

Blaine leaned in closer, and closed the distance between himself and Kurt, breathing in the warmth of the kiss. Kurt’s hand slipped down to grab Blaine’s waist, and he pulled Blaine closer.

A few seconds later, the two pulled apart, breaths a little heavy, but slight smiles on their faces.

“Happy New Year, Kurt,” Blaine said softly.

He glanced to Quinn who had appeared next to him. She offered him a light, which he accepted, before taking a drag off her own. It was then that Kurt noticed a girl clinging tightly to the arm of the new kid while he swung a stick back and forth.

"It's Rachel Berry," he chuckled. "I think we can work on it."

"Probably an even bigger douche than Finn, though. I mean, look at those god awful sunglasses."

Kurt raised an eyebrow at her before smirking at the now empty grass before them.

"Says the bitch who never takes off that cheap, oversized hunk of plastic," he said.

"At least I have the decency to look hungover," she grinned. "Now, please tell me you're going to fuck that fantastic ass."

"Oh, I definitely plan to."

 -x-

He didn't approach him until the next week. Fortunately, Rachel wasn't clinging to him as tightly and he had lost the stick (thank god, he probably would've poked someone's eye out) but he was still wearing those sunglasses. Kurt walked to him as soon as he saw him leave the doors.

"Hey, Rachel," he said as he walked up next to her. "Don't you have an ass to kiss?"

At this, she immediately turned back inside, leaving the new kid standing alone.

"That was easier than expected. Though I'm not sure if she thought I was calling her a kiss-up or her boyfriend an ass. Hell, I don't know what I meant."

"Hello?" was all he got in response. The kid seemed like he was confused, but he didn't move his head or even look Kurt in the eye. But, to Kurt's delight, he was looking in the direction of his stomach.

"Eyes are up here, sweetcheeks," he grinned.

The boy blushed, "Oh, I'm sorry. I-"

"Though I can't say I mind. You're free to look...?" Kurt trailed off.

"Blaine. And I can't really-"

"Oh, don't worry about Berry. She's got Frankenteen wrapped around her finger. I can't see her minding if you had a little fun."

Blaine frowned, "That's not what I-"

"You know, I get that people think shades are cool and all, but these are not working for you." Kurt reached over and pulled at the glasses, still getting no movement from Blaine until they were completely off. He closed his eyes tightly and reached out two feet to the right of Kurt.

"Please, I need those. I may not be able to see the sun, but it still hurts."

And that's when it started to make sense. Kurt stood there in shock for a moment before placing the glasses carefully back in Blaine's hand and sprinting back to the bleachers to meet Quinn's giggle with a punch to the shoulder. The bell rung not soon after that, but Blaine was still there, taking an occasional and tentative step, softly calling out. Kurt knew he should help him, but Quinn would probably make fun of him even more. And he couldn't forget how desperate and exasperated Blaine had sounded when Kurt took his glasses. Did people really bully a blind kid? Oh, crap, had Kurt bullied a blind kid? Eventually, Rachel came back, apologizing profusely. Blaine just exhaled a shaky sigh of relief and followed her guiding arm with unsteady steps.

-x-

"Hey, Anderson, can I try on your glasses?"

Kurt overheard it in the hallway a few days later. He had been on his way to history-he usually attended at least one class a week to stay caught up enough to pass-when he saw Blaine walking with an Asian girl now guiding him and stick thing in hand. Maybe he had lost faith in Rachel. Kurt probably would've socked her if she had bailed on him like that. He probably would've punched himself, too. Then again, a blind person probably wouldn't have a lot of luck in violent situations.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, Shades!” Of course it was Karofsky. “You go deaf, too?”

But although Blaine had tensed up, he continued walking and ignored the comment. Apparently, this was the wrong response because Azimio stuck his foot out to trip him, sending Blaine toppling to the ground and his cane across the hall. Kurt wasn’t sure how it happened but suddenly he was holding the metal stick and swinging it at the ankles of the football players.

“What kind of an ass picks on a blind kid?” he shouted as two of them fell down. “Feels kind of shitty, doesn’t it?”

He pulled Blaine up off the ground and dragged him down the hallway before anyone had a chance to retaliate.

“Where are we going?” Blaine asked helplessly.

“The nurse,” Kurt replied shortly, his annoyance obvious.

“I’m fine, really.”

“No, you’re not. You probably have a concussion or something,” Kurt said. “I can’t believe them. Tripping a blind kid is-“

“Is worse that leaving one alone outside? I could hear your footsteps when you ran off, you know. And I knew it was you as soon as you spoke back there. Your voice is-“ he stopped suddenly. “Uh, unique.”

Kurt snorted. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Blaine hurried out.

“Yeah?” Kurt asked, stopping in front of the nurse’s office. “What did you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Blaine mumbled. “It just seemed like a better option than calling it beautiful.”

Now it was Kurt’s turn to be flustered so he opened the office door and ushered Blaine inside and onto a bench. They sat in silence for a bit while Kurt filled out a little sheet for Blaine’s attendance. Then, Kurt finally spoke up.

“I disagree,” is all he said.

Blaine startled at the sound before realizing Kurt had spoken. “What?”

“I would have preferred beautiful.”

-x-

The next day, Blaine got a ride with Rachel to school, which worried him immensely. He couldn’t see but he didn’t think there were enough potholes in the world let alone on the way to school to make the car jerk so many times. She really loved being there to help him out, though, so he let her. And really, she wasn’t completely clueless on how to help him out. She could just get so caught up in herself that it slipped her mind. She had promised not to leave him alone again, but with that memory plus the incident the day before, he knew he needed to be extra careful.

He opened his door on the passenger side but waited for her to walk over and help him out. He didn’t really know her car that well, and he didn’t want to fall over again. The nurse yesterday hadn’t found anything but a bump, but it still hurt.

Rachel took longer than she should have, which probably meant she had forgotten he needed help, but she eventually guided him out of the car and towards the school.

“Stairs,” she said too late, but luckily she had a firm enough grip on Blaine’s arm that he remained upright. This was looking like a bad idea.

As soon as she opened his locker for him, she asked to go talked to Finn across the hall, promising to “be really, really, super fast”. Blaine sighed, but consented, earning him a hug and a squeak instead of a farewell.  On the bright side, he already knew his locker’s layout enough to quickly find the books he needed and check the Braille on the spine to be sure. On the down side, he had to stand alone waiting for Rachel once he was done. When he heard footsteps behind him, he expected it was her return.

“That wasn’t exactly fast,” he commented, shutting his locker and holding an arm out. To his surprise, however, the voice that answered was definitely not Rachel’s.

“Didn’t know I was on a time limit,” Kurt said, pulling the books from Blaine before looping his free arm through the offered one.

“Oh, I didn’t know it was you,” Blaine replied, confused at the way Kurt was acting. “I thought it was Rachel. Why are you here?”

“Well, I can tell you it wasn’t to be compared to Berry so you probably shouldn’t do that again,” Kurt said, but Blaine thought he could hear a smile in his voice. “I figured I owed you. You know, civil duty and shit. So I’m your new bodyguard.”

“I don’t need a bodyguard,” Blaine grumbled as he was pulled along with Kurt down the hallway.

“No, but you want one, don’t you?” Kurt countered. “If you’re near me, no one’ll mess with you.” Blaine was about to speak when Kurt finished. “Not physically, anyway. Now, where’s your first class?”

-x-

Kurt really did continue to walk him from class to class throughout the day. He would be waiting outside the door as soon as his teacher helped him out of the classroom-technically a teacher was supposed to help him at all times but McKinley had apparently chosen to forget that little rule-and linked their arms before asking where they needed to be next. Once, Blaine had to ask to be taken to the bathroom which was a little embarrassing, but Kurt hadn’t even commented. He just led him to a stall where Blaine said he had it from there (he didn’t really but figuring it out on his own seemed like a better option than asking for more assistance). It wasn’t until they barely made it to Blaine’s class that he realized Kurt probably wasn’t going to class on time and leaving early. He brought it up as soon as that class ended.

“You know, you have your own classes to attend,” he said. “You really don’t have to skip them to… Escort me.”

“Honey, if I wanted an escort, I’d call a service. And it doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t have gone to any of them anyway,” Kurt replied.

“How are you gonna graduate if you don’t go to any of your classes?” Blaine asked incredulously. “And don’t give me any crap about not caring because you’re still here for a reason, but you want to get out of this hell of a town just as much as everyone else. So either you’re stuck here or you’re waiting to graduate.”

“Well, looks like I’m caught between a rock and a hard place,” Blaine could practically hear his smirk. “And unfortunately, I’m not talking about your hips.”

They continued to walk for a little longer before he spoke again.

“The teachers don’t really mind if I don’t show up,” he was speaking quietly so that Blaine had to tilt his head in closer. “Last year, showing up for school was tough.” Blaine wanted to inquire further on that, but he knew Kurt was opening up a lot already. Prying wouldn’t help. “My dad tried to help, but he couldn’t eliminate the problem. He could stop me from dealing with it, though. So from then on, I took the majority of my classes online. As for the rest, all the teachers were informed of my ‘situation’.” Kurt regarded the last word with disdain. “They email me everything that happens; some even tape the class for me. Plus, I’m never marked as absent.”

Blaine had been nodding along, but now he didn’t know what to say. Kurt probably was done talking about himself so he didn’t ask for any more.

“I tried to get homeschooled or a tutor, but my mom thought it was important I got the same opportunities as any other kid. So apparently that means the same torture form,” he offered. Kurt chuckled a bit, which he took as a good sign.

“Hey, Bubbles,” Chandler pokes his head around Blaine’s door, “You coming or what?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Blaine pouts and presses his face a little closer to the window as Kurt does an adorable little fist-pump and kicks a spray of snow up into the air.

“Blaine, the bowling alley is not going to come to us,” a fluffy toy hits him in the back of the head, “Get yo’ cute ass up and outta here.”

Blaine sighs again. “Chandler, he’s so perfect.”

“Okay,” Chandler stomps over, “Let’s see – whoa.”

Blaine groans. “Why can’t we be boyfriends?”

“Because he doesn’t know you!” Chandler kicks his foot up, “Hey, look at my new boots. They’re pretty great, right?”

“Sure,” Blaine props his chin on his hands, “If he just looked at me. Just once...”

“Okay, this is pathetic,” Chandler grabs him by the shoulders and yanks him back, “We’re going to work and that’s final. You need to stop pining over this guy, Blaine!”

Blaine sighs as he puts his shoes on and follows Chandler out to his car, turning to look longingly at the Hudson-Hummel house as the engine rumbles to life.

He’s been Kurt’s next-door neighbour for just over three years, and he’s spent at least two of those years hopelessly in love with someone he’s spoken to about four times. After he’d been attacked for the fourth time at Westerville High within about three months of joining the school his mother had put her foot down and moved them to Lima and Blaine to Dalton.

He’s seen Kurt grow up from a vaguely insecure-looking boy into a man, seen him gain friends and confidence and, without some embarrassment on his part, seen his pants get tighter and tighter and tighter. Now, Kurt is a very attractive young man who looks like the kind of guy Blaine will see in a Hollywood Johnny Depp film in five years and Blaine still looks twelve and still dresses like a grandpa.

“Hey, wake up, we’re here,” Chandler snaps his fingers in front of Blaine’s face, “It’s New Directions Tri-Weekly Bowling Saturday, remember? You get to ogle at his ass as he bowls!”

“I do not,” Blaine protests, “Ogle his ass.”

“Oh, no, sorry,” Chandler pulls up in the staff parking space, “You simply appreciate it. From a distance.”

“Exactly,” Blaine shoulders his bag and steps out, slipping a little on the ice, “Come on, or we’re going to be late.”

“And whose fault is that, huh?” Chandler runs after him, “The answer is yours, Anderson!”

Blaine ignores him, pushing open the front door of the bowling alley. It’s overwarm and he grimaces, tugging at the neck of his shirt. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone for the bowtie after all.

“Anderson, Kiehl! Hurry up!"

“Sorry, Mr. Fredrickson,” Blaine calls, and the alley’s owner storms over. “Kiehl, you’re behind the counter today. Anderson, you’re on table service.”

Blaine freezes up a little. “But – but Mr. Fredrickson –“

“No arguments, kid,” he usher them towards the food counter and hands them an apron each, “It’s that or nothing.”

Blaine sighs as he ties the apron behind his back and follows Chandler to his doom.

**

“Hey, Blaine, take these to table eight?” Chandler shoves the plates into Blaine’s waiting hands, “One hamburger, one plate of fries, one cheeseburger – hold the cheese.”

Blaine frowns. “Isn’t that just –“

“Just go along with it.”

Sighing, Blaine balances the burgers on one arm and holds the fries in the other hand, sliding past the people queuing to give their orders. Scanning the alleys, he identifies table eight and freezes.

“Chandler –“

“Not now, Bubbles!”

“But – I can’t take – I –“

“Anderson, put some pep in your step!” Fredrickson yells, “Get going!”

“Okay,” Blaine takes a breath, “Okay. Oookay. I can do this.”

He forces himself to start walking towards the spread of people taking up table eight, their raucous laughter and shouting becoming more and more oppressive the closer he gets. Half an hour until your shift ends and you can go home. You can do this. “Um,” he swallows, “I, uh, I...”

Slowly, the talk dies down and he swallows again, inhaling deeply. “A – a hamburger, um, some fries and, ah, a cheeseburger but – but hold the cheese?”

“That’s me!” a blonde raises her hand, “Over here!”

“Um, okay,” Blaine hands her the plate and then holds up the hamburger, determinedly not looking around, “A, a hamburger?”

“Me,” a guy with a Mohawk lifts his hand and Blaine sets it down quickly, “And, um, the fries?”

“Just in the middle, thanks,” the Mohawk boy says, and Blaine puts it down and almost runs away.

Chandler gins at him as he returns. “How much do you love me right now, Bubbles?”

“He’s not there,” Blaine sighs, “I don’t know if I’m happy or not.”

“Well, that’s no reason to slack off,” Chandler shoves two more plates of fries and two pizzas at him, “Go on, dumbass.”

“Okay,” Blaine sighs, and rolls his shoulders, balancing the plates on his arms and nimbly avoiding two children chasing each other. This time the table is less nerve-wracking, now he knows Kurt isn’t there, and he manages to smile at the blonde with her cheese-less cheeseburger when he delivers his next set of plates.

“That it?” he asks, leaning his elbows on the counter, and Chandler shakes his head. “Kerry took the stuff for four, so there’s only this left.” He hands Blaine another two pepperoni pizzas and grins, “Hey, you might get lucky, you never know!”

“Shut up,” Blaine spins on one heel to stick his tongue out at Chandler, scrunching up his nose and then frowning when Chandler’s eyes go comically wide and he points enthusiastically.

Turning, his eyes lock on a familiar profile, his face turned sideways as he laughs. Blaine trips over his own feet, the plates flying from his hands as he slams into Kurt. Stumbling upright, he gasps “Oh my god – I’m so sorry –“

“Oh no,” a voice says, “Oh, this was McQueen.”

Blaine’s head snaps up and he feels his stomach flip uncomfortably. “Oh.”

Kurt grimaces at the mess on the front of his shirt and Blaine wants to curl up into a ball and disappear. The girl standing next to him snorts and then covers her mouth. “Oh man, he is going to kill you.”

“I –“ Blaine swallows hard, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you, I – I –“

He can feel his eyes stinging and he swallows hard, trying to gasp out another apology. A brunette from the table rushes up with a handful of napkins and starts dabbing at the tomato sauce. Blaine flounders helplessly, “I can – I’ll get you some water, or, um –“

“Hold on,” Kurt frowns, “Hey, you’re – you’re that guy from next door!”

“Oh, you’re dead now!” the girl laughs,

Blaine panics. And then he runs.

Chandler’s car is locked so he slumps against the door, shaking. He’s screwed it up now, he thinks shakily, of course he spills greasy food all over the one fashion sensitive gay boy in Lima who he might have a chance with. Shaking his head, he buries his face in his hands and tries really, really hard not to cry.

He sits there until his fingers and toes go numb, his face pressed into his knees. He wants to scream and cry and curl up into a ball until he disappears.

“Hey, Bubbles!”

“Hey Chandler,” he mumbles.

“Fredrickson says you can go home, lucky asshole.”

“He hates me. I know he hates me.”

“Oh, Bubbles,” he feels Chandler settle next to him and hopes for a tenuous moment that he might be kind, “He really does. You should have seen his face.”

Blaine feels the lump in his throat get bigger. “But you know, there’s plenty of other fish!” Chandler continues, “I bet he doesn’t hate you that much, anyway. You could probably pay for another shirt!”

“Okay,” Blaine heaves a sigh and rubs his eyes, “I’m gonna go grab my bag and call Coop.”

“Okay!” Chandler chirps, “Have fun!”

Blaine takes the back route into the bowling alley and grabs his bag so he doesn’t have to face anyone. Cooper, unfortunately, is not home, so he pulls on his windbreaker and puts in his earbuds and sets off walking. Home is nearly an hour away and within twenty minutes his shoes are soaked through with snow, which only contributes to his melancholy mood. It’s getting dark and he glances across the street and decides that their side is probably a tiny bit less slushy.

He doesn’t even see the car that hits him.

He takes all of three steps into the road when suddenly his feet leave the ground and his head thumps against something cold. A screech echoes through the night and then his body smacks against the ground and he hears a high squeal, like tyres against a slippery road. The ground is cold and Blaine blinks drowsily and realises his earbuds have fallen out.

“Oh my god, oh my god, did you see that?”

“Did they just – run that guy down?”

“Oh god, is he okay?”

“I don’t think he’s moving.”

“Hey, kid. Hey, wake up! Talk to me!”

“No, don’t shake him! Sweetie, can you hear me? Open your eyes if you can hear me, okay?”

Blaine screws up his face and cracks open one eye, closes it quickly as the street light above them sends a spike of pain through his head. He wants to groan but his whole body hurts, his chest aching and his leg – he tries to shift it and his mind whites out with agony.

“Uh, hold on. I don’t think ankles are supposed to look like that, right?”

Blaine screws up his courage and starts to sit up, his ribs screaming in protest as he does so. Hands come to rest on his shoulders and push him back down. “Hey, hey, hey, buddy, no, don’t do that. Lay still.”

Blaine opens his mouth but all that comes out is a low moan of pain. He slumps back against the ground, his head spinning as the two people have a short but angry conversation above him. The last he remembers is the wail of sirens.

**

Kurt slumps against the windowsill and stares out into the Anderson’s back garden. Usually, by this time, their son is out, playing with his dog or just sitting on the porch swing, reading. Even in the cold, he ventures out, and Kurt had spent a blissful hour watching him heave and strain to make a snowman nearly twice his height (because seriously, dat ass).

But the garden is empty, and he hasn’t seen him – is his name Blaine? He thinks it’s Blaine – in more than a week now.

“Maybe he’s ill,” he says out loud, “Maybe he’s ill in bed with a fever. Maybe he’s moved house. Maybe he’s dead.”

“Dude,” Finn says from the bed, “Morbid, much?”

Kurt sighs. “I just want to tell him – that I didn’t even care about the shirt, it was an ugly shirt, I only wore it to go with the equally as ugly shoes, but I just – his face,” he finishes miserably, “He looked like he was going to cry.”

“Pretty sure he was crying,” Finn turns back to the book which Kurt knows has a porn magazine in the middle, “His face was red as a tomato.”

“Finn.”

“What? Dude, you literally just told me like, five minutes ago, not to lie to you because you ‘would know,’” he lifts his hands to make quote marks and inadvertently flashes Kurt the section of the magazine he’s ogling.

“One,” Kurt shoots him a glare, “Lying is not the same as bending the truth so as not to send my dreams of a whirlwind romance crashing. Two, get that filthy magazine off my bedspread.”

“Okay, okay,” Finn picks up the book, “Though that’s pretty rich, coming from Mr I keep my lube under my bed.”

Kurt feels his cheeks flame red. “You promised you would not bring up the personal lubrication incident.”

Finn rolls his eyes. “If you’re ever gonna get laid, you gotta call it –“

“Shut up!” Kurt hurls his pillow at Finn, cheeks burning, “You asshole.”

“Hey, you could always ask that short blond dude who hangs around him all the time,” Finn turns the page of his magazine and whistles appreciatively, “Pretty sure they’re friends. Plus, y’know, we’re going bowling tonight, so…”

“Really?” Kurt whirls around, “You didn’t tell me that?”

“Yeah, I forgot,” Finn closes his magazine and checks the clock, “Oh man, we shoulda been there, like, ten minutes ago.”

“Finn,” Kurt grabs him by the shoulders and pushes him out the door, “Go, go, I gotta get ready, you asshole, oh my god, he’s gonna hate me so much –“

**

Kurt’s outfit is a little hurried, but his striped shirt draws attention to the length of his throat and his jeans are not the tightest he owns but probably the nicest, a washed-out pale blue tucked into his favourite boots. He immediately regrets wearing them as soon as he has to slip his feet into the slippery bowling shoes, shuddering slightly. “Ew.”

“Dude, there he is,” Finn bumps their shoulders together and nods towards the blonde boy who’s now serving tables, “Go ask him.”

“Okay,” Kurt takes a deep breath, “Okay. I can do this.” And before he chickens out, he jumps up and strides across the length of the alley, tapping the boy’s shoulder briskly.

“Hey, what can I – hi, wow, okay, it’s you,” his eyes have gone very wide, “Um, what can I do for you?”

“Hi,” Kurt says awkwardly, “I’m Kurt, I just – I wanted to check if Blaine – the boy who spilled pizza on me –is okay? I haven’t seen him for a while…”

The boy’s mouth falls open. “Bubbles? You’re looking for Bubbles?”

Kurt arches an eyebrow. “Bubbles?”

“’Cause of his bubble butt,” the boy claps his hands, “Anyway! I’m Chandler, it is a pleasure to meet someone who can accessorize as well as you,” he grins, “Bubbles broke his leg, actually, so he’s out of work for a little while. You could probably find him in the Lima Bean, though – y’know, if you were really looking.”

“Great,” Kurt nods, “Okay. Thanks. Um, have a nice day?”

“You too,” Chandler calls after his retreating back, and Kurt makes his excuses to Finn and the rest and is in his car in less than five minutes.

The Lima Bean is only fifteen minutes away from the alley, says his SatNav, so he hits the accelerator and tries not to think about what he’ll do if Blaine isn’t there.

**

Blaine picks absent-mindedly at his muffin and wonders what on earth Chandler is talking about in his latest stream of texts. They mostly seem to contain a lot of key-smashing and strange autocorrects. He turns it upside down in case they make more sense.

From: Chandler DFUCK BAKLINE BLAKINE GUESS HWO I JUST Sawyer HES SO BEATU BALINE BALIEN OMG U LUCKY mustard get some son aw yiss so pROUD

Just then the door of the coffee shop is thrown open with a bang. Blaine glances up and immediately shrinks back in his seat as Kurt Hummel strides in, casting his eyes around hopefully and then desperately, before his shoulders slump and he turns towards the counter, muttering his order to the barista standing there.

Blaine hunches his shoulders and sits up to grab his coat, wondering if he can crutch himself out fast enough for Kurt not to notice him. Unfortunately, his elbow knocks the plate that holds his muffin and it crashes to the ground, drawing the attention of everyone in the shop.

Blaine ducks his head immediately, lowering himself to the floor awkwardly as he fumbles to pick up the shattered plate. A few seconds later, a barista appears with a dustpan and brush, helping Blaine back up onto his seat as he apologises and wrings his hands, unable to help.

“I’m so sorry, my coat, I was just – here, let me help you, I really didn’t mean to, I – I can pay for a new one, I’m really sorry –“

“It’s fine, sir,” she says begrudgingly, “Really, don’t worry, okay?”

Blaine flounders helplessly and then slumps back in his chair as she sweeps up the last of the mess and disappears into the back of the shop, still looking disgruntled. Blaine sighs and drops his face into his hands, feeling very much like curling up into a ball and dying quietly.

“Hey.”

Blaine’s head snaps up and his mouth falls open. Kurt is standing in front of him, holding a replacement muffin and a cup of coffee. His lips twitch up into a hesitant smile. “Um, I – the barista, he said you were eating a blueberry muffin, so I – here.”

Blaine moves his lips but nothing comes out.  Kurt’s cheeks flush a pale pink. “Is it okay if I sit here?”

Blaine nods silently.

Kurt places the muffin on the table and smiles hopefully. “So, uh, how are you? I heard about your leg from Chandler at the bowling alley.”

Blaine glances down at the blue cast poking out from the end of his sweatpants. “I – um, I’m okay. Y-you?”

He doesn’t quite hear Kurt’s reply, too busy quietly freaking out about the fact that Kurt sought him out and bought him a muffin. He only snaps out of it when Kurt says “So, can we talk about the other day? With the pizza?”

Blaine feels his euphoria crash and burn. “I am – I am so sorry about that, I have – I can pay for another, if you want, I really am so sorry –“

“Hey, no,” Kurt grabs his hand where it’s resting on the table and Blaine freezes “I don’t care, seriously, I wasn’t bothered, tomato sauce comes out. I just wanted to – okay, I just.” He takes a deep breath and bites his lip. Blaine clears his throat but his mouth is to dry to say anything.

“Iwantedtoknowifyou’dgoonadatewithme,” Kurt blurts.

“What?” Blaine says.

“Oh god, you’re not gay, are you,” Kurt pushes his chair back and grabs his coffee, “I’m so sorry, I’ll let you be, I’m really sorry. Um, have a nice day.”

He’s nearly made it to the door before Blaine gets himself together enough to call “Kurt, wait!”

Kurt pauses and then turns to look back at him, and Blaine jerks his head in what he hopes is interpreted as a come here signal. Slowly, Kurt returns to their table and settles back into his seat.

“Okay,” Blaine takes a deep breath, “I am gay.”

“Oh thank god,” Kurt breathes and then laughs, shaking his head, “It would have gotten very awkward if you weren’t.”

Blaine smiles at that, ducking his head and glancing up at Kurt. Kurt blinks and then smiles easily. “So, what do you say?”

“To what?” Blaine asks, confused.

“To going on a date with me,” Kurt says hopefully, “Maybe to Breadstix or something?”

Blaine’s mouth opens and closes before he manages to stutter out “Yes, oh my gosh, I – yes. I would love to go on a date with you, Kurt.” He holds the name in his mouth like it’s precious, clinging to this moment in case it ends abruptly.

“Great!” Kurt rocks back in his chair and claps, “Tomorrow, then? I’ll pick you up at seven?”

Blaine feels a grin spreading across his face. “Yeah. Yeah, that’d be amazing.”