Title: Seasons of Love

Summary: "Honestly", Blaine grinned, "you had me at…'mmmgoawayFinn'. The way you were snuggling into me—it was so adorable. YOU were so adorable. You still are."

A/N: *headdesk* Prelims were awful, I tell you. Plain torture. *shudders* I think the pinkish soft ooze spilling unto my test paper was actually bits and pieces of my brain—or what was left of it. *facepalm* Plot bunny insisted. Here you go. Sucky title, I know.

Autumn

Blaine Anderson never ever experienced a bus ride all his life.

Sure, his family was…well-off when it came to status and err, financial prestige and stuff. But as far as his memory would allow him to remember, he was always fetched and dropped to and from school by car. He never had the pleasure of commuting, let alone using public transportation vehicles.

And by the time that he was seventeen, his parents got him a Mercedes Benz (what? He had a thing for beautiful shiny cars.)

When his graduation came and went, he was shipped off to New York, although his parents were telling him that Harvard, Yale, or Cambridge was better than NYU. But thankfully, using his dapper charm and his puppy-dog eyes, he was finally given the permission to get a read: penthouse and not a dorm or an apartment, when he got there.

Still, he had his Ashton Martin with him, so a usually 45-minute drive ended up as 15-20 minutes instead.

And so, when his poor baby was totaled due to some obvious prank by some homophobes (New York, really?) who hated him because of unreasonable personal grudges against him; he took it as a chance to do what he wanted. Not that he has been doing that much lately—he was spoiled.

"We could give you a lift if you want, Blaine", Wes offered. "You're like, living two blocks away from me. So it won't be much of a hassle or anything."

"I swear if I see those punks" David made a threatening gesture, "I'm going to beat their asses."

"Right", Wes scoffed, "as if you weren't screaming like the little girl you are when Blaine's younger sister went all Bruce Lee on you."

"Hey! I am not allowed to hit a girl, not that I have been planning about it or anything…And don't take her lightly Hughes, once you actually feel the pressure of her fists and her kicks, you would ought to think that it's actually a super duper experience 30-something martial artist kicking your butt. Heck, I thought for a second that she was Chuck Norris!"

"Which specific second? The one where she gave you a headlock or the part where she side swept you and then elbowed your right rib?"

"Why you bitch—"

Blaine chuckled. "Guys! Cut the lovers' spat already. David has a point of being intimidated", David shared a triumphant expression, "I would know. She kicks my ass all the time."

"That's not new", Wes said in a monotone voice.

"Yeah. I'm not surprised when like, pre-school kids bully you and take your lunch money or something", David grinned.

"You're too dapper to hurt a fly—scratch that, you're too dapper to even do shadow-boxing."

The curly haired boy raised a bewildered brow. "Shadow what—on second thought, I don't want to know. Look, I already called a mechanic to look at my baby. So, thanks but no thanks."

It was Wes's turn to raise a puzzled brow. "Why don't you just buy a new one? We all know that you're insanely rich enough that you could buy the whole cast, plot, heck, everything of Harry Potter and you could have your way with them. "

"Like what? Turn it into a musical because I'm a big fan of musicals?" Blaine sarcastically replied.

Having not taken a hint, Wes brightened up. "Yeah! Then you could call it, 'A Very Potter Musical' or something. Man, that would be a hit."

"Thanks Wes, I'll keep that in mind." Blaine rolled his eyes as he finished his Medium Drip.

He knew what people did when they rode buses—it was all in the movies, really. You could probably learn everything from watching movies—from stealing a bank, wooing a girl, rebelling against your parents, fending off Death Eaters and dementors, and destroying an evil ring by bringing it to Mordor.

Well…Probably not the last two, but hey, it could happen. Never say never.

After dropping the exact amount of coins, he found himself a free seat on the left side of the fourth row of the entire bus. He smiled to himself, feeling a bit excited and yet at the same time, a bit foolish for being so worked up over a trivial thing.

Contentedly, he glanced outside the window. This was New York, the Big Apple, the city that never sleeps. And it was true. He saw all the hustle and bustle going on around him, and honestly, he felt as if those people weren't sleeping anymore and instead, lived on caffeine alone.

And by the lifestyle that he was living…He felt as if he was one of them already.

Not long enough, people began to pour in. Soon, the whole bus was crowded, with some people standing up instead and holding on the railings. Politely, he gave his window-spot to a kind-looking old lady, who fell asleep as soon as her back rested against the seat.

On the other hand, Blaine Anderson felt panic slowly creep inside him when he noticed that he did not know how to get home. It was wholly different when you were the one driving the car. Yes, despite his three-month stay, he already knew all the shortcuts and the shops and the cafés that he would pass through every morning.

But taking the bus was different.

It passed through the main roads only, where it was traffic all the time. The type of roads Blaine usually avoided. And so, he doesn't really know which road exits where and enters where.

In short, he was lost. Well…not yet.

He sighed, and then he wiped his face with his hand tiredly. Nothing would go wrong without a few adventures, right? He could always give either Wes or David a ring if he needed help…

…Although he was pretty sure that those two wouldn't let the issue live down.

So, he was pretty sure, he'd rather to handle this alone. Looking at it from a brighter side, at least he would get to know more about this city…Right?

"Excuse me", a soft-spoken yet high-pitched voice snapped him out from his pessimistic thoughts. He turned and resisted the urge to drop his jaw at what he saw. There, directly on his right side (hey, it was jam-packed), stood the most beautiful guy he had ever seen in his whole life (and he had seen a lot of them…And probably dated the majority of them.)

Porcelain doll.

That was the first image that he could relate to. Well, earthly image. Angel and elfin and fairy were too…far-fetched, right? How else would he describe this breath-taking…And oh god, his eyes, his eyes—were they real? Or were they just contact lenses?

He opened his mouth, but he found no words.

"You dropped your scarf", he pointed at the forgotten object lying at his feet. "And it's a really pretty scarf too. Is it Dior or Armani? The fabrics—ow!" There was a smirking girl beside him; she was doll-esque too. She was blonde, and she had a small albeit really pretty face.

Chuckling, Blaine picked up his Armani scarf. Wait, how did the boy know that it was Armani? Could it be that he was…Not to be stereotypical, but from the sound of his voice, his perfectly coiffed hair, and his scent (which was a mixture between vanilla and some soft flowery fragrance, by the way) and his clothing—he checked out his style—the boy was wearing a black and white striped polo shirt underneath his stylish leather jacket, and oh, hello there skinny tight jeans.

This boy was perfect.

And he screamed gay.

Meaning, they were on the same team.

Meaning, he had hope.

'Mental note to self: squeal and flail like a mad creepy stalker fan boy that I am later', he thought to himself, his heart beating wildly inside his chest.

"Thanks", the prep school rich kid muttered shyly. A few minutes passed by later, and damn, he couldn't let an opportunity like this slip past by him. After all, what Blaine Anderson wanted, Blaine Anderson got it—in a gentleman manner, of course. "Uuuh…"

"Kurt, he's talking to you", his fellow-doll friend commented. She was giggling too. Did he really look that stupid?

Expectantly, the angel turned to him.

"Is this…" 'Heaven?' Blaine bit his lip from spilling the last word out. He didn't want to scare off the kid or even attract attention to himself. Heat flooded to his cheeks as he saw the blond giggle some more, before the guy glared at her with his bitchy look.

Okay, try again. "I mean", he coughed. "I think I'm lost—"'in your eyes'. Really, Blaine? Really? He scolded himself. "I mean! I'm lost because uuh…" Well, he couldn't say that it was his first time on the bus or anything, right? "…I'm not familiar with these parts…"

Wonderful, Blaine mused bitterly, how wonderfully lame Blaine. Wes and David would get a kick out of how pathetic you are being.

"Where do you live then?"

He gave him the place he was staying, not missing the slightly stunned expressions of the two. And certainly, he did not miss the obvious 'Figures' look the blonde girl wore. Even the angel in front of him raised his perfectly sculpted brow in an intimidating way.

"Oh you're not too far from it then. It's just two stops from this one", he smiled as he tugged on the girl behind him. "Come on Quinn."

"Really, Kurt, really?" Quinn snickered as they waited for the bus to stop directly at its…stop.

Kurt sighed exasperatedly. "What? I was being nice!"

"That's what you call it nowadays?" She shook her head. Both unaware that in fact, Blaine was still seated behind them, and he could hear everything clearly. "The guy was cute though."

"What's that supposed to mean?" 'Kurt' grumbled, although the reddening from the tip of his ear all the way down his neck gave him away.

"Nothing", Quinn smirked as they exited the bus.

And when the bus picked up some more passengers, and dropped of some more, he had already arrived to his stop. Somehow, he had managed to make it home.

It was on top of a splendid condo. And he loved the view, especially when the sun rises in the morning, he could see it from his bedroom.

Dropping his keys by the table, he went to the kitchen to find some food as he listened to the voice mails. Although, all of his attention and his thoughts were still on that stylish, beautiful, and totally adorable—

"Blaine? David and I dropped by your place a while ago, we played Halo", it was Wes. "Seeing that you aren't there yet, we thought you got your wish riding a public transport. Anyways, your mechanic called."

"Hi Blaine!" David chirped in from the background.

"Yeah, yeah. David's here right now. We're watching Shutter Island. Right, where was I? Your mechanic called, he said that you'll be able to pick your car up next week. And—"

A crash was heard in the background, followed by a yelp and a curse.

"—David! Look, I need to go. Call me as soon as you're done listening to this, okay? Okay. Bye." The voice mail was followed by a beep, indicating that the message was finished.

A week.

Blaine gets to ride the bus for a week.

Call it love at first sight, or infatuation, or what—he was smitten.

And he could only hope that he would see Kurt once again.

A/N: The fluffiness is killing me. *headdesk* And really, Blaine? Pick-up lines? I knew you were a dork but...*somebodyshootme*

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