A.N. This is my first real fic, so it might be a bit rough.
Dedicated to Katie and Celia who inspired me to write after reading their own amazing creations.
"Rach, you know I'm not particularly fussed," Kurt moaned for the twelfth time in five minutes. "Just find me an apartment!" He said, dramatically tapping the button that ended the call. After a long morning of traipsing around New York looking at identical apartments that never quite met Rachel's ridiculously high standards, he felt a sudden need to escape, so he'd ran off to Central Park to clear his head and left the decision entirely in his best friend's good hands.
It had always been his dream to go to New York. He'd just never considered the practicality of it all, and he didn't particularly want to.
Spotting a free bench, he dashed to a food stall to grab a cup of coffee, and handed over some change. As he spun away from the stall, a bulk of sweat and muscle slammed into him, knocking him to the ground and sending his brand-new coffee flying into the air, half over his designer jumper and half splattering to the ground.
"God, are you okay?" the man said, reaching out a toned arm to effortlessly pull Kurt up from the floor. Now that he was at eye level with the man, Kurt couldn't ignore how unbelievably handsome he was as his flawless tan face crinkled into a frown.
"Shit, is that legit McQueen? Because if it is we've gotta get that off and into my washing machine asap." Kurt tried to mumble something about how yes, it was Alexander McQueen but he suddenly found himself subconsciously taking off his jumper and accepting the stranger's hoodie.
"Come on, I'll make you another coffee too," he said, stretching his hand out to Kurt. "I'm Blaine, by the way."
"Kurt," he replied, shaking his hand, only for Blaine to intertwine their fingers together and drag him out of the park.
He may have not known Blaine for long, but he could already tell that he was the most interesting boy he'd ever met.