In the midst of my break from writing because I was trying to find the right way to morn the loss of my grandmother, this story came out. It is two chapters long and I hope you like it. It's rated what it is because of the language. Please review because I'd be interested in reading what you think about my versions of Kurt and Blaine. :)

xoxo Grace


Chapter 1

Blaine was taking his usual morning run in the Hudson Park in lower Manhattan. The summer had offered unusual weather patterns as of late; so, he was taking full advantage of the seventy six degree weather on this particular early morning. He had his dog leash held tightly in his hand with his adorable mutt doing his best to keep up.

Blaine didn't run his fastest and dogs are much faster than humans, but his particular dog was a little pudgy, had short, stumpy legs, and a wide, cylindrical body. When Blaine adopted him, he saw the dog's pitiful eyes and knew instantly that this dog was for him. He hadn't had him long, but he instantly fell in love with the dog's droopy expression and odd looking frame. This dog, was very clearly an outcast in his own category, but he was very easily the cutest thing on four legs with his black and amber fur and oversized ears.

He remembered going into the humane society and being shuffled down rows of kennels and seeing dog after barking, jumping dog that barked out "Pick me! Pick me!" But down the very last row, in the center kennel, was this funny looking dog in with two others. He was the only dog that sat back and laid down in the corner quietly. It was as if he was waiting for the barking to stop.

"This one came in from Alabama," the worker explained. "He was a rescued from Hurricane Katrina a while back and he's been like this ever since."

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed together in pity. "Was he a stray, or did he have a home?

"No doubt about it. He had a home. He's so sweet. You'd think his family would go looking for him after they were settled and all. He came with a chip and fully healthy with all his shots. Neutered and all. Shame really. Can't imagine why no one wanted him yet either. As I said, he's really sweet."

"He looks so sad."

The woman laughed. "Oh, don't let that fool you."

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked as he peered closer into the kennel.

Sensing that she just found the dog a home, she opened the cage door and slipped in quickly so that the other two dogs wouldn't push their way out. The moment she came in and the dog sensed she was coming for him, he sat up straight up and his tail wagged a little. He wasn't a little dog, but he wasn't a medium sized dog either. Sitting, he came just below knee height, but he wasn't able to sit perfectly straight because his odd shape betrayed him. His legs were too short for his length and he had to sit crooked, with his hind legs off to the side. It was endearing to Blaine.

The woman picked him up and he squirmed in her arms, clearly not liking being high up. "He's thirty three pounds; could stand to lose about four pounds. Don't be alarmed by the marks on his ears. We think those are from rat bites from before he was rescued. I went down there myself to help collect animals and you wouldn't believe the mess we found these animals in. Tragic. I still can't get the images and smells out of my head." She approached the cage door. "I'll ask you to open and shut the door real quick. If I move my hands, this guy'll jump out of my arms." Blaine did as asked. "Follow me. You can meet him properly in the play room.

The play room was just as Blaine thought it'd be. It had wall to wall windows and tons of toys for the dogs to play with. "He's a little skittish with men, but if you sit on the floor, you'll see what I mean by not letting him fool you."

Blaine did as he was told and sat down near a basket of tennis balls. He watched as the dog squirmed out of the woman's arms and down to the ground. He looked around the room, but stayed standing by her side, wagging his tail, as if waiting for permission to go play. His chest broad chest moved rapidly and his tongue lolled out as he panted. The stress from being carried around when he didn't like to be picked up clear took a toll on him. "Go on," she said playfully.

"Hey, little guy," Blaine greeted from across the room. He picked up a ball and held it out. "Want to play?"

The dog took two steps and then looked back at the woman. "Well, go on," she said again. "You can't stay here forever."

Blaine squeaked the ball and it caught the dog's attention. He slowly tip toed over, looking up at Blaine with scared eyes, his ears drooping backward. If he were a person, Blaine pictured his as Oliver Twist asking: "Please, Sir. I want some more."

"Come on," he said sweetly, squeaking the ball again. "I won't hurt. I just want to play." When he was standing just in front of Blaine, he reached forward and made motion to pet him. The dog flinched and ducked his head. "It's okay, boy." He continued to reach, slowly, very slowly, and brought his hand down to stroke the fur on the dog's head. "See? I won't hurt." He repeated the motion again and again petting him softly. "Good boy." Eventually, the dog walked right into Blaine's lap and curled right up against him as if Blaine had never been a stranger in the first place.

Minutes went by of Blaine coddling and soothing the pooch, feeling his soft fur and finding the pot behind his left ear that was clearly the dog's weak spot for affection. "His name's Chuck," the woman interrupted.

"Chuck, huh?" Blaine clarified to the dog, looking him over for inspection. "Anything I should know about him?"

"He hates water of any kind, unless it the kind in his water bowl, but even then, he's careful to just barely be touching it."

"That's understandable. What else."

"Nothing else. He's easy. He only barks when warning, he's healthy, and isn't aggressive. If you want him, he's yours. You sent in your application last week and your background checked out. You can sign some papers and you can walk him out of here today."

"Well, draw up the papers," Blaine said, looking at the dog and tousling his ears. "Chuck, we'll be doing something about that name, but you've found a home, my friend."

In the car ride home, Blaine kept looking at Chuck and petting him gently, while still keeping his eyes on the road and letting him roam the passenger seat and sniff the city air from the open window. "Chuck," he called. The dog didn't answer. "Yeah, I wouldn't answer to that either. You don't look like a Chuck. Let's see, black and amber fur? Amber is a girl's name and we don't like girls in my house. I mean, you can if that's your thing. No judgment, but, let's be honest. You don't have balls, so what's the use in trying to get with a lady anyway? Hmm. Let's see. Hazel eyes. Nope. Hazel is also a girl's name. Black and amber. To be honest, you kind of look like the Black and Tan beer I drank last night. Then it hit him. He looked exactly like a Black and Tan. "Guinness," he called out. The dog spun around and looked Blaine square in the face, his tail wagging and his ears puffed out wide. "Yep. Definitely a Guinness. Good boy, Guinness." He tussled his ears and kept on driving home.

This was the thought Blaine had in his head on days that looked like this as he ran in the park with his dog. He stopped running at a concession stand to buy a bottle of water and "dog bowl" which was essentially just a recyclable paper bowl that was filled with water for your dog. The person who ran the stand was a young woman who always looked like she should be at a rally, protesting against anti fur, or animal rights. She was sweet and it was the only stand that offered bowls of water for your animal, so Blaine made an effort to always stop at her stand. Plus, Guinness liked her because a) she was a woman, b) Guinness didn't know the difference between the one giving the water and the one paying for it, and c) she was someone who gave him attention and Guinness never stopped playing up the helpless puppy act with his eyes.

"Bottle of water pl-" Blaine turned his head to the left. A slender man with delicate features and sweat glistening over his brow and shoulders ordered at the exact same time as him. They stared at each other blankly for an instant before their eyes flicked down at each other's sweat slicked bodies and then flicking them back up again. Blaine instantly catalogued this man under the gorgeous men section of his brain.

He had a soft color of chocolate brown hair and sea blue eyes, with green and yellow flecks in them. His lips were naturally fully and pouty, along with being the perfect shade of pink and salmon. His skin was perfect. Not a blemish or a visible pore on his face. Blaine's brain itched. This man looked familiar from somewhere. He could have had one of those faces that resembled other people, but Blaine was sure that this was a face he absolutely would have remembered seeing. Just as Blaine and the man's attention was diverted from their dog leashes being tied up from their dogs circling each other, it dawned on him. He had seen him somewhere. On a electronic billboard in Time Square, in GQ magazine, at a Gucci runway show his boss took him to. He'd seen this man many times. This was Kurt Hummel, IMG modeling company's most prized male model right now. Kurt was androgynous, yet masculine. He could pull off fierce and romantic, pained and ecstatic. Kurt Hummel was the wet dream to straight women and gay men everywhere.

"Oh, sorry! Gabbana gets really excited around dogs close to his size," Kurt said, working with Blaine to untangle their leashes. Gabbana was a black and white Chihuahua who's face resembled the pattern of a wolf. He could easily pass for a dog that always looked angry, but the way he acted around Guinness made him look much sweeter.

"It's alright," Blaine confessed feeling a little flustered and then not being able to stop his heart from racing when Kurt looked back up into his eyes. "Really."

"Well, I'll make it up to you," Kurt said, licking his lips and wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. "You can order first."

In a surge of confidence, Blaine ordered two waters and two dog bowls. The woman handed Blaine two bottles and put two bowls of water on the ground. Both dogs instantly ran to them. "Oh! Gabbana!"

"No! It's for him," Blaine corrected, understanding that Kurt didn't want to assume that Blaine just ordered for the both of them. "Like I said," he reach out his hand and offered a bottle of water to Kurt, "It's alright."

Kurt smiled and accepted the water. "Thank you. That's very nice of you."

Blaine nodded and brought his bottle up to his lips, his tongue gently touching the plastic and feeling the coolness of the water spill into his mouth. He downed about half of it and poured some onto his head, dampening his dark brown curls. He opened his eyes to find Kurt watching him.

Kurt moaned at the feel of the water going down his throat. He'd been running for a long time now and the liquid was crisp and exactly what he needed. He poured some on the back of his neck, never willing to mess his hair up in public, even though he was sure it was more than poofy enough from his body temperature rising and secreting sweat. The dogs were close to finishing their bowls and Kurt ordered two more. "My treat this time."

"I'm Blaine," he introduced himself, trying his best not to freak out at the presence of this famous and very gorgeous man standing in front of him. He extended his hand.

"Kurt." He took Blaine's hand in his and shook it, his eyes never leaving Blaine's.

Blaine stopped himself from saying "I know" because he didn't want to sound like a crazy person who might be a stalker. He didn't know how to make small talk with Kurt, which was odd because he had been in the presence of countless moguls, tycoons, actors, hedge fund owners, and the like for years now. It was only Kurt Hummel that made him start to feel like a high school boy trying to talk to his first crush.

"You run here often?" Kurt mentally slapped himself. Really?! That's the best you can come up with? You, Kurt Hummel, are an idiot. Say something better. This guy's hot.

"Y-yeah. I'm not on a schedule though. My job has me working different hours."

"I know the feeling," Kurt agreed, glad that Blaine continued with the topic anyway. "What do you do?"

"Interior design."

"OOO!" Kurt squealed. Seriously?! You fucking squealed? How old are you? He relaxed his features and blushed, happy that his overheated skin would cover the flushing pink his face and chest would turn. "Sorry. When I get excited, my voice gets higher."

"You got excited over my job?" Blaine smiled, his eyes becoming wide and bashful.

"Is that weird?"

"N-no. It's infectious actually." Blaine smiled. Kurt Hummel was getting better looking by the second. His bubbling personality was only amplifying his good looks. Another runner came up to the stand and it interrupted the two men from their discourse. By this time their dogs had finished their second bowls and were now licking the drops of water from each other's faces. They were fast friends. It was easily one of the cutest things he ever saw. Guinness liked other dogs, but was never this friendly. He thought that he might have wasted all of his courage on buying him water to talk to him, but he chanced gathering up the rest of whatever courage he could muster and shyly looked down at the dogs. "You know, I'd hate to separate them. They seem to like each other."

Kurt wasn't even looking at the dogs. "Yeah… they do."

"Guinness doesn't really go out with other dogs that often. Work keeps me pretty busy, so he normally just sticks with me."

"Gabbana is the same." Kurt had hoped that Blaine wasn't really talking about the dogs because Kurt was damned sure that when he talked about Gabbana at this moment, he was really talking about himself.

"It'd be a shame for them to have just met and never see each other again."

Kurt was losing his willpower to wait to see if Blaine was talking about them or the dogs. "Can I give you my number?" he blurted out.

Blaine jerked his head over instantly in shock. Truthfully, he was talking about him and Kurt, hoping that Kurt would maybe want to take them for a walk or to a dog park sometime, as an excuse to see him again, but he was becoming more and more self-conscious about asking. They had only just met and while Blaine knew more about Kurt than Kurt knew, Kurt only knew Blaine's name and what he did for a living. "Yes!" he blurted back. He coughed, clearing his throat and trying to compose himself. "I mean, yeah. Yes, I'd call you. I mean-" Blaine was talking with his hands and trying to use them as a way to stop himself from embarrassing himself even more. His hands, sadly, were not doing their job.

Blaine's reaction only made Kurt feel relieved that he wasn't the only one making a fool out of himself and also that Blaine wanted to call him and wasn't just talking about the dogs. He'd been wrong before. On more than one occasion, he had thought a quality in someone was endearing, but it only turned out to be a red flag that he should have run fast and quick away from them. This time he knew Blaine's eccentricity wasn't a crazy sign, but a sign telling Kurt that he should get to know this man more. At the very least, Blaine was hot and adorable at the same time and was into interior decorating, something Kurt loved almost as much as his own job.

"Sorry," Blaine confessed as he took a breath. "I'm really not very good at this." He decided honesty was the best policy. "The truth is that I-"

"-am a breath of fresh air," Kurt finished.

"What?" Blaine stood up straighter, his defeat disappearing and curiosity winning over. He was about to say that he was nervous because in all actuality he knew Kurt was a famous model and Blaine was just star struck.

"You're very different than the norm. Most guys I meet go straight into hitting on me and as flattering as it is, I'm just a silly romantic. Your fumbling and stammering over words and sentences is the most adorable thing I've seen in a very long time. You wouldn't imagine how refreshing it is to meet someone who only comes off as sweet and down to earth." Kurt stopped himself from talking because he realized he was rambling about something slightly personal and he really didn't know much about Blaine.

Blaine was taken back by Kurt's confession. He thought he had blown it, but as it turned out, impressing Kurt was not what Kurt wanted. Kurt was very different than what Blaine originally pictured. Kurt Hummel was… normal and not a snob, not that Blaine thought he was, he just met too many people in the fashion world that weren't particularly genuine. "Thanks," was all he could think of to say. "If I still haven't thoroughly embarrassed myself, can I still have your number?"

Kurt giggled. "Of course." He turned to reach for a napkin and the woman at the stand handed over a pen. He scribbled down his name and number and handed the pen back. Blaine didn't have pockets so he slipped the napkin in the slot behind his ipod on his arm band. At this point Gabbana had gone back over to him and laid down, looking thoroughly tired, at his feet. Kurt knew this meant Gabbana had enough of the sun and running and he knew it was time to go. He toed the ground, delaying the inevitable, incase Blaine never called him.

"You know," he said, itching behind his ear lobe. "I wouldn't think it were creepy if you called before the three day rule."

"You wouldn't?" Blaine's face brightened.

"No. Or, you know, like five minutes from now."

Blaine smiled in a way that made it reach his eyes. "Okay. I'll keep that in mind when I call you as soon as I get home."

"Don't tease me, Blaine. I'm pretty gullible sometimes."

Blaine was hoping that Kurt didn't think he was mocking him. "Okay, how about this. I will call you tonight at seven?" Seven is good, right? It's not too late, but it's definitely not early.

Kurt thought a minute. "Seven would work. I'd like that."

"Okay. Seven it is then."

"It's a date." Kurt startled himself. "Shit. Sorry. It's not a date. Damn. I was doing so well."

Blaine chuckled and licked his lips. "I'll call you at seven."

"And if you don't?" Kurt was quick to ask, sounding like he really was counting on Blaine to call.

Blaine wasn't thinking clearly. If he were a bystander, he'd think they were both insane and lonely, but as it were, he was enamored with Kurt Hummel and had been attracted to him since the second he saw him in Men's Vogue nearly a year ago. He was sex on a stick and now that he'd met him, Blaine wanted nothing more than to sit and stare at him as he spoke. Kurt was different. He was charming and sweet. He had utterly adorable flaws and really, sex hadn't even played a role in any of their discourse. Blaine hadn't wanted to rip his clothes off; he wanted to get to know him. Sure, looking at Kurt Hummel, IMG's sexiest male model, in Blaine's opinion, there was a part of him that wanted much more than a conversation over coffee. The part of him that hadn't gotten laid in months and fantasized over a model he'd never met sent him into a silent frenzy that would end in him wanting to get down on his knees suck every last drop of come out of Kurt, but the rational side of him wanted much less action and much more… Kurt.

"If I don't call at seven, assume I'm dead."

"That's awful."

"It would be, but so would not calling you." Blaine was surprised at his ease at saying such a flirtatious line. There was a pause. "Wow, where was that guy at the beginning of us meeting?" Blaine laughed.

Kurt giggled too. "I know. That was the smoothest thing you've said this whole time." He laughed some more. "But I liked it. I'll admit, I'm interested."

The laughed went away and both men eyed the other. "I couldn't agree more."

They both begrudgingly parted ways and Blaine ran back to his apartment with Guinness running beside him. When he plopped down, sweaty and breathless on his oversized chair in his living room, Guinness jumped up into his lap and panted, drool dripping from his lolled out tongue and breath blowing in Blaine's face. "You're gross," he stated. "I love you, but your gross. Your breath smells and drooling on someone isn't good manners." He smiled and rubbed Guinness' back. "So what do you think, little man? I hope you liked Gabbana… Because I would LOVE to see more of his owner." Guinness started huffing and rubbing his face on Blaine's t-shirt to play. "Is that a yes? Do I have your blessing?" Guinness barked. "Don't judge me. Remember. We like boys in this house. Wait. No. Let me rephrase. We like gorgeous men like Kurt Hummel. Or maybe just Kurt Hummel and not men like him." He barked again. "I know you have a thing for the golden retriever downstairs, but based on how she acts towards you, I'd say you have better chemistry with Gabbana. Hell, you have more chemistry with the stuffed animal you hump every morning than the dog downstairs. You don't have to marry him, but don't be scared. If you decide that Gabbana would be better off as just a friend, then that's okay too. I'm just asking for you to be my wing man." He rubbed his face on Blaine's chest again and Blaine gave him a good petting and smiled. "Your owner really wants to get to know Gabbana's master more. You know that thing you do with the stuffed animal every morning? Well, I want to do that to Gabbana's master, Kurt." Guinness grumbled a little. "I mean, eventually I would like to do that. For now, I'll be happy with just talking to him. You're right. First things first. Besides, he's a famous model and I'm a stuttering mess around him. I'd probably try to hit on him and faint."

Guinness stopped what he was doing and just stared at Blaine with his ears puffed out. "Don't look at me like that. I can't help wanting to bang him. I'm a dude with balls. You don't have them, so you wouldn't understand. But I get what you're trying to say." The dog chuffed and puffed out his jowls for a second. "Oh, sorry. My mistake. You're right. I should have more confidence in myself and I'm sorry about bringing up the whole no balls thing. I didn't mean to upset you." He chuffed again and jumped down off Blaine's lap.

"Oh come on!" Blaine called out to him as he ran away. "I said I was sorry!" Guinness barked in the distance. "See, this is why I need to calm the fuck down and call him. I need to stop talking to a dog and talk to real people. I love you and all, but these pretend conversations are really starting to make me doubt my sanity." Guinness returned with a toy in his mouth and sat at Blaine's feet. "Can't play now. Have to get some work in today." He stretched, putting his arms above his head. "Oh, eww. And I think a shower in the immediate future is key."


For an idea of what Guinness and Gabbana look like, see my tumblr.

URL: Grace-Ryan

Please Review!

I'm a fan of Bashful!Blaine. I think by now, for those of you who read my other stuff, you'll know that's something I enjoy writing.