"I have the solution to all your problems."
Kurt Hummel sat himself down at his kitchen table in his New York apartment and tried not to let his best friend, Rachel Berry, hear him sigh. His cell phone pressed to his ear and his dinner in the microwave—he was too hungry to wait for take-out and too lazy to make anything more complex than a frozen dinner—he couldn't wait to find out which of his problems she was referring to.
"You've found a way for my neighbors to stop fighting with each other at midnight and then having very loud make-up sex at two in the morning?"
This time when Kurt sighed, he didn't care if Rachel heard him. His current state of exhaustion was not entirely to blame on his neighbors. He had still been awake, typing presentation notes, at midnight. But he'd finally put himself to bed just moments for apartment 7A decided to…reconcile.
"Well, no," Rachel said, "But I found you a roommate."
Finding a roommate was Kurt's biggest problem and something he desperately needed to do. But between the long hours he worked at as an executive assistant to Isabelle Wright, and the interesting group of characters who had responded to his online ad, Kurt wasn't making any headway. And he was running out of time.
When Kurt first moved to New York City from Lima, Ohio, he and Rachel had gotten, what was now just his, apartment. Together. Just like they'd planned. Kurt and Rachel had been best friends in high school and Rachel had already been living
When Kurt first moved to New York City from Lima, Ohio, Rachel had already been living there for six months. She was blossoming actress, and Kurt, well, Kurt wanted the same things that Rachel did: his name in lights, an adoring audience on a Broadway stage, and the recognition as the talent that he was. But life had thrown Kurt a curveball his senior year, one of many, and instead of a stage, Kurt found himself at the desk outside the office of Isabelle Wright, director of editorial for , and soon he found that his plans, and his dreams, had changed. Or maybe he was just making the best of the situation. But he was happy, and that was all that really mattered, right? Maybe one day he'd have a limited run in a revival of…something. He wasn't picky. Where his name would fill the seats, but his talent wrote the glowing reviews. But for now his life was pop culture and fashion trends.
After a few years in the Big Apple, and a Broadway run of his own, Rachel decided to try something different and took off to Los Angeles for more TV and movie opportunities. Kurt had been sad to see her go, but, thankfully, she hadn't left him without a roommate. Tina, another friend from high school, was about to start her master's program at NYU and needed a place to stay. But two years later, Tina had graduated, and six weeks ago, moved back to Chicago to be with her boyfriend. Now, Kurt was left with a second bedroom in an apartment he really couldn't afford by himself. He had two weeks to figure out something, or he'd have find somewhere else to live. Despite his neighbors, the apartment was in a good neighborhood, not far from the subway, and his. He wasn't willing to give it up just yet.
Luckily, it seemed that Rachel found a way to help him from the other side of the country.
"Do tell," Kurt said, "Because I'm considering the guy with the affinity for owls. He was the least strange of the bunch."
"His name is Blaine," Rachel told him, "Blaine Anderson. He's the brother of one of my costars. I've told you about Cooper before, right? Anyway, Blaine is moving to New York to pursue and acting career. When I asked him where he was going to live he said that he hadn't found a place yet. So I told him I'd talk to you."
"If he wants to be an actor, why doesn't he stay in LA?" Kurt questioned, curious. Usually, because aspiring actors were leaving New York if they wanted to act more. Like Rachel had.
"He prefers the theater," Rachel explained, and then clarified, "Broadway. Kurt, he can sing. You know I have an ear and appreciation for talent that rivals my own and I will be the first to admit that I both hear and appreciate Blaine. Plus, I think you guys have a lot in common and would get along wonderfully."
"Is he gay?"
"Yes," Rachel said, the mischievous smile on her face clear in her tone, "And very cute."
Kurt sighed, "I'm looking for a roommate, Rachel. Not a boyfriend. And you've got that tone in your voice that I don't like."
"I do not," Rachel whined, "I'm just letting you know that I found a roommate who is a really nice guy, who happens to be attractive, and who is willing to move in in two weeks. I'm not implying one bit that things should ever be more than platonic between the two of you. Though, if you did…"
"Stop right there, Rachel Berry," Kurt interrupted.
Kurt took a deep breath. It didn't matter if this guy—Blaine—was cute or hideous, or even that Rachel was trying to set him up as much as she was trying to help him out. The fact that Blaine could move in just in time for the next rent check to be due was the most important. He needed a roommate.
But despite the clock ticking against him, Kurt still hesitated to agree to live with Blaine. Kurt had never lived with a stranger before. He lived at home with his dad, and the only time he spent on the NYU campus was to attend the classes that Vogue had paid for. He lived with Rachel and then Tina, and the idea of living with someone he didn't know scared Kurt shitless. With every interview came the swell of stress that he wouldn't find a roommate in time and when each candidate was more strange than the last, there was a little bit of relief.
It helped, a little, that Rachel already knew Blaine. And that she liked him. But it didn't do much to calm the anxiety that was building in his gut. What if things didn't work out? What if he and Blaine couldn't find common ground outside of a love for musical theater? What if he moved out before he even finished unpacking because Kurt played too much Madonna on the weekends?
"Kurt, I can hear you thinking for 3,000 miles away," Rachel chimed, breaking Kurt's thoughts from the list of "what if's that were spinning through his head, "Everything aside, you need a roommate and Blaine needs a place to live. Everyone wins."
She was right.
"I'd like to at least talk to him before I make up my mind," Kurt told her, "Ask him a couple questions and introduce myself before he shows up at my door."
"Absolutely," Rachel said, "I will organize an introduction via text and you two can arrange whatever it is you need from there."
"Thank you, Rachel," Kurt said sincerely. He wished he could give her a hug. He needed a hug.
"You're welcome, Kurt," Rachel said, and then, thankfully, moved on to a new subject, "Do you have a lot of extra work this weekend?"
"No!" Kurt said rather excited, "I have one final weekend of complete and utter laziness before our big Fashion Week project starts."
That morning the calendar said July 24th. Only 47 days until the start of New York Fashion Week—one of the busiest times of the year.
"So PJs and bad TV all weekend?"
"I think I saw that there was a Top Model marathon on, but that's the gist of it, yes," Kurt told her, "There will also be laundry, some cleaning of the bathroom, and a trip to the grocery store. That last one, unfortunately, will require me to put on real clothes."
"I'll call you tomorrow afternoon," Rachel said, "maybe we can watch a few episodes together. I have a big scene on Monday that I need to prepare for with Cooper. Otherwise, I'd suggest we spend the whole weekend on Skype."
"That sounds great," Kurt said, and then after a moment added, "I really miss you, Rach."
"I miss you too, Kurt," he could hear the smile in her voice, "Now go eat dinner. I heard the microwave go off ten minutes ago."
Kurt hung his head. His dinner would probably need to be reheated, "Goodnight, Rachel."
"Goodnight, Kurt."
Rachel (9:57 PM): Kurt, Blaine. Blaine, Kurt.
Blaine (10:00 PM): I've never been introduced to someone via text message before. Hi, Kurt.
Rachel (10:01 PM): I'm honestly surprised it doesn't happen more often.
Blaine (10:02 PM): Let's hope this doesn't catch on.
Rachel (10: 15 PM): Twenty bucks says Kurt fell asleep. On the couch. Watching a Lifetime movie.
Kurt (8:47 AM): Wrong.
Kurt (8:47 AM): I fell asleep on the couch. But I was watching Moulin Rouge. It was on TV.
Blaine (8:51 AM): Oh! I love that movie. Hi, again, Kurt.
Kurt (8:52 AM): Hello, Blaine. It's very nice to meet you.
Blaine Anderson was pretty sure he was currently in the most bizarre, yet exciting, situation ever. It was also absolutely terrifying. He was finally moving to New York City after a detour that had served as nothing more than a learning opportunity. He learned that he should have gone to New York right after high school like he'd planned. Before his parents had their say; before his brother had his. "Broadway is dead," Cooper had said, "Come to LA. Live with me and the Anderson brothers can take Hollywood by storm. Like the Hemsworths or the Cusaks."
Except they didn't. But Cooper did. Fast forward five years and Cooper was starring in Tattered Hearts, a soap opera set in a small, fictional town of Tattered Hills, Pennsylvania. Blaine, on the other hand, was still trying to take Hollywood by a light shower. He'd managed to land a handful of minor roles, most of them not even presenting him an opportunity to speak. And his only "big break" was the six months he'd spent on Tattered Hearts before his character—Officer Seth Douglas, a cop with a tortured heart—was shot in the head. He spent three weeks in a coma before they pulled the plug. Cooper swore he was talking with the writers about getting Blaine back on the show, as Seth's twin brother, but like everything else in Blaine's career so far, nothing ever came of it. It didn't matter. Because no matter how many roles, as minor as they were, that Blaine managed to snag, nothing ever felt right. Something was missing and it wasn't until Cooper's first Daytime Emmy nomination that he finally figured out what it was. He wanted a Tony.
The plan quickly began to take form: he'd move to New York, live there for eighteen months and if nothing changed—if he still couldn't find someplace where he could do what he loved to do—then he'd go back to LA, live with Cooper, and find a different profession.
He told his brother over dinner and to stay it went well would be lying. The next morning he was looking through apartment listings when Rachel came into the living room.
Blaine loved Rachel Berry, Cooper's exciting, though sometimes intense, co-star. She'd move to LA after starring in the revival of Funny Girl on Broadway, and almost immediately landed the role of Carrie Travis, a young club owner, and sometimes club singer, on Tattered Hearts. Though their characters were half-siblings on the show, Cooper and Rachel became quick friends outside of work, and Blaine too soon found himself calling Rachel a close friend.
Cooper must have called Rachel over to back him up on his argument that New York wouldn't be the best place for Blaine. But if that was his brother's intention, he failed. Rachel bounced into the room with an excited smile, sat down next to Blaine on the couch and immediately started asking questions.
"Who are your Broadway idols?"
"What is your dream role?"
"What places do you want to see?"
And then the most important question.
"Where are you going to live?"
"Well, I haven't figured that out yet," Blaine said truthfully, gesturing toward his laptop and his browser with many open tabs."
"See, Blaine," Cooper interjected, "You can't just take off to New York."
"This is actually perfect," Rachel bounced excitedly on the cushion, "My best friend, Kurt, is looking for a roommate."
"Really?" Cooper and Blaine said in unison.
Rachel laughed, "Yes. I'll call him later today and see what he thinks."
That had been three days ago and since then Blaine had been introduced to Kurt via text message, sent a breakdown of the rent and utility payments, and they were currently trying to plan a Skype date—well, not an actual date—but a Skype interview of sorts. But it seemed their schedules and the time difference were causing problems.
Kurt (6:37 PM): Ugh. I'm going to have to reschedule. Again.
Kurt (6:38 PM): I may just have to trust that you're not a serial killer.
Blaine (6:39 PM): Cereal, maybe. But I promise not to butcher you and hide the body in the attic.
Kurt (6:40 PM): I don't think this building has an attic.
Blaine (6:41 PM): Then I guess you have nothing to worry about. :)
Blaine (6:41 PM): Does this mean you've agreed?
When Kurt didn't answer right away, Blaine returned to the half full boxes that were currently littered around his bedroom. Regardless of whether Kurt agreed or not, Blaine was still moving to New York. And soon. His plans would not be in the hands of, or completely derailed by, one apartment. He had several others bookmarked on his laptop, just in case. He was committed to taking a risk with his future—with or without a few bumps in the road.
Ever since Blaine decide to listen to the warnings of his family and take a semester off before going to UCLA, instead of NYU, New York had been the missed chance, the "what if" that Blaine never explored. The thing that haunted him. Every audition that came and went without a yes; every temp job that he got just so that he had something to do; and every day he sang in the shower and not on a stage asked the question "am I doing the right thing?" "How would things be different if I was in New York right now?" And it was finally time to find out. He couldn't keep questioning it—of himself—another day longer.
Blaine had just put a few books into a box when his phone began to ring. He shook himself from his thoughts on his past and hurriedly reached into his pocket. His heart raced when he saw that it was Kurt calling, his contact saved into his phone without a picture—though he'd seen plenty from Rachel. Until now, Blaine had only conversed with Kurt via text message and the memory of the last message he'd sent flashed before him. For a moment, there was fear. What if Kurt was calling to tell him that he'd decided not to accept Blaine's offer?
While he was determined not to let Kurt's decision decide his fate, Blaine may have become a little invested in the idea that he would be living with Kurt. Rachel had been texting him every time she thought of something that he and Kurt had in common or something about Kurt she found interesting that she had to share. Kurt was her best friend and she seemed as anxious for Kurt's verdict as he was. With a resolved mindset—no matter what Kurt said, everything was going to be okay—Blaine answered the phone before just before the call went to voicemail.
"Hello?" Blaine answered, trying a little too hard to sound like he hadn't just been having a mild panic attack.
"Blaine?" a voice said, Kurt's voice.
"Yes?"
"Oh, good! Hi, it's Kurt. Kurt Hummel."
Blaine smiled. First because Kurt sounded buoyant—not like he was about to deliver bad news. And second because after days of texting Kurt, he was finally hearing Kurt's voice; and it sounded like music, "Hi, Kurt."
"Hi, Blaine," Kurt said, "I'm terribly sorry that I have to be so quick about this, but I'm on break at work and I need to get back soon."
Blaine mentally calculated the time difference, it was just after seven in the evening in New York, "It's alright. What's up?"
Blaine heard Kurt take a deep breath, "I wanted to tell you in person—or, more in person than a text message, that is—that if you're still interested, the second bedroom in the apartment is yours."
"Yes!" Blaine said immediately as the weight was slowly beginning to lift off his shoulders, "Of course I'm still interested. This is—this is wonderful! Thank you, Kurt!"
"You're welcome," Kurt said, "And we both owe Rachel a huge thank you for connecting us."
Blaine smiled, he really did like Rachel Berry, "I'll make sure I treat her to dinner before I leave. For both of us."
"Thank you," Kurt said, "The room is yours whenever you want it. Just let me know what day you'll be here and I'll make sure to take the day off work."
"You don't have to do that, Kurt."
"Trust me," Kurt said, and Blaine wondered if he could hear a tinge of exhaustion in Kurt's voice, "By the time you get here I'm going to need a day off. And probably a bottle of wine."
"I'll stop on the way from the airport and grab a bottle. Maybe two," as Blaine said the words he couldn't help imagining what moving in might be like, bonding with Kurt over a glass of wine. It was a fantasy that would soon be a reality.
"That sounds perfect," Kurt said and Blaine wondered how Kurt was imagining it all.
"Do you have a long week coming up?"
"A long quarter," Kurt told him, "Which reminds me, I should get back to my desk. Text me to let me know when you're coming and even if I have to fake the plague I will be waiting at the apartment."
"I will," he told Kurt, "Thank you again."
"No problem, roomie. Have a good night."
Blaine hung up the phone and, like a teenager, threw himself on his bed, hugging his pillow tightly as he pressed his smile into the pillow case. He was going to New York and he had a place to live. The pieces were finally beginning to come together.
"Good news?"
Blaine looked up to Cooper standing in his doorway. He'd just gotten home from work.
"That was Kurt," Blaine said sitting up and nodding toward his phone across the bed, "I'm moving in!"
"That's great," Cooper said, but his voice was a little flat. Blaine knew when his brother and could hear his lack of approval in his voice.
"Why are you so against this?" Blaine questioned. There was only one person in the world he wanted to share this success with and that same person seemed unable to hide his disagreement of the whole situation.
"I just don't want you to get hurt, Blaine," Cooper explained.
"You don't want to see me fail."
"That's now that I said," Cooper countered.
"But it's what you meant, Coop. Isn't it?" Blaine said, his voice rising, the anger building himself him, "You don't think I can do this. You've always thought that if I went to New York I would get nowhere. And I believed you. Once. But not anymore. I'm crashing and burning here, Cooper. So I need to find out if you were wrong. I need to prove that you were wrong."
He needed to prove it to himself more than anyone else.
"Okay, okay," Cooper said putting his hands up in surrender, "Just know that whatever happens you can come back here."
Blaine's smile was weak, but it was there. Despite everything, he knew that his brother loved him. And that meant something, "Thanks, Cooper."
He was glad that Cooper was giving him a safety net—the reassurance that should Blaine jump and fall on his face he would still have a place to call home. But he wouldn't need a net. He wasn't going to fall, he was going to soar. There was no other choice.
Getting to know Blaine, even if it was via text message and one, rather brief, phone call, was turning into the best part of Kurt's days during the two weeks while Blaine was coordinating his move across the country. Fashion Week was still six weeks ago, but was already in planning mode. Which meant long hours at the office and several more spent on his laptop once he finally made it home—they still had a website to run. But at least once a day Kurt found a text from Blaine waiting on his phone, waiting for him after a long meeting or an even longer phone call with the assistant to the assistant of some big shot trying to setup meeting—most of which spent on hold. The first text message came the day after Kurt had agreed that Blaine could move in.
Blaine (12: 53 PM): What really makes you angry?
Kurt (1:59 PM): Sorry, I was in a meeting.
Blaine (2:04 PM): it's okay. You can ignore my silly question if you're busy.
Kurt (2: 06 PM): Any particular reason you're asking?
Blaine (2:07 PM): If we're going to be roommates I think I should know more about you than your name and address. Plus, this will help me not make you angry.
Kurt (2:15 PM): Wise.
Kurt (2:17PM): Right now I would say people who stop in front of my when I'm walking down the street, people who don't answer email in an appropriate amount of time, and the fact that someone left the coffee pot empty and I now have to wait before I can get my afternoon fix.
Blaine (2:19 PM): Coffee junkie?
Kurt (2:20 PM): I wasn't before most of my work days became 12 – 16-hour events. But now it's a requirement in my everyday life.
Then there was the night Kurt gave himself an hour to eat dinner and relax before jumping back in work where Kurt had a question of his own.
Kurt (8:35 PM): What was the last thing you recorded on your DVR?
Kurt (8:35 PM): This actually might have been something I should have asked you before I agreed to let you live with me. DVR space is sacred.
Blaine (8:38 PM): RHOA, The Bachelorette, Tattered Hearts, Going the Distance
Kurt (8:39 PM): The Drew Barrymore movie?
Blaine (8:40 PM): It was on HBO in the middle of the night so I DVR'd it so I could watch it the next day.
Kurt (8:45 PM): Contemplating a long distance relationship? Are you leaving someone behind in LA, Blaine?
Blaine (8:47 PM): Ha. No. Just Cooper.
Every day continued in a similar fashion, each causing Kurt to think hard about questions like "If you were a superhero, what powers would you have?" and asking the really important ones like "What song would you say best sums you up?" He learned about Blaine's similar high school experience of show choir, school musicals, and trying hard to find where he fit in. In one of their more serious conversations, they shared with each other how they'd gotten off the path they'd dreamt of as teenagers.
Blaine: Does it both you that that's what I'm coming to NY to do? Be on Broadway.
Kurt: No. I've accepted it and moved on.
It was now Friday morning, exactly 17 days after Kurt had made that phone call and Blaine would be arriving late afternoon. Kurt was ready to focus on something other than getting a meeting scheduled between Isabelle and Marc Jacobs, which was proving to be more difficult than it had been in previous years. When he'd spoken to Isabelle about getting the day off, she sighed, smiled, leaned back in her desk chair, and said, "Go! But have your phone and laptop close for emergencies."
So far, everything had been silent.
Without the worry of work, Kurt could distract himself by making sure the house, especially what would soon be Blaine's bedroom, was completely clean. Kurt hadn't had much time to clean up lately and if Blaine arrived and realized that there were four days' worth of dishes in the sink and a pile of laundry that Kurt couldn't be bothered to put away in a basket in the middle of the living room, he might turn around and find somewhere else to stay.
From the moment Rachel presented Blaine as a potential roommate, Kurt knew that accepting him was the best thing for him to do. Not necessarily the right thing, but Blaine was the best choice to have figuratively fallen into his lap. But even after all the text messages they'd exchanged—they really did have a quite a bit in common—the uneasiness in Kurt's gut hadn't eased. It started the day Tina moved out and he'd been ignoring it, writing it off as a side effect of the stress he'd been feeling from work, but it was becoming clear as he began to countdown the days until Blaine's arrival that it was something like the fear he'd felt in high school eating away at him every waking hour of the day. He wasn't afraid of Blaine as a person, but he was afraid of what it meant that Blaine—still a relative stranger—was moving in with him. What if he couldn't accept Kurt for who he was?
Ever since he moved to New York his roommate had been a friend—a best friend—and it gave Kurt comfort knowing there was at least one person in the gigantic city that was on his side. He could breathe easier knowing that even though his father was in Ohio, he had a piece of his family close to him should he need them. But now that comfort had moved away twice. And Kurt would be living with someone who he really didn't know, who didn't know him, and despite the text messages, the phone call, and the Rachel Berry Seal of Approval, he didn't know if he could trust. There were things you couldn't know about a person from just words. Blaine solved Kurt's roommate issue, but he didn't do anything to calm the feeling of being alone.
That didn't mean that Kurt didn't have other friends, or that he and Blaine would never be friends. They were well on their way in that direction. But Kurt was beginning to miss the security of having that single person he knew would never turn their back on him. Blaine wasn't that person, not yet. Maybe not ever. But he hoped that one day he would learn to count on Blaine. And Blaine, him.
Kurt stood in the doorway of Blaine's room, searching for anything that might still be dirty or out of place. But everything was in pristine condition and the gift basket of little things that had been helpful to him when he moved to the city was sitting on the nightstand. Satisfied with the shape of the apartment for the first time in weeks, Kurt into the living room and sank into the couch. It would be a few more hours before Blaine arrived and he could spend it cleaning the bathroom again, checking his email, or he could watch one of the multiple episodes of The Bachelorette that were sitting on his DVR, knowing that his new roommate was already caught up. Kurt closed his eyes to take a deep breath, to take in the peacefulness that his life so infrequently offered this time of year. The next thing he knew he was being woken by the sound of someone banging on his door.
The day that was supposed to be a dream come true was currently feeling more like a nightmare.
Blaine sat in the back of the cab on his incredibly slow journey from JFK to the address of the apartment he'd read the cab driver from a post it note and tried to breathe. The black screen of his dead cell phone was just one reminder that, so far, his move to New York had been the exact opposite of what he'd expected. Spending the day traveling was selfish enough, but one top of a dead cell phone, his layover flight was delayed, and while trying to gather some energy in a Starbucks, someone ran into him spilling his medium drip all over both of them—and then acted like it was his fault. Adding to the pile of things not going as planned, the moving company showed up twenty-four hours earlier than they'd anticipated and all his things arrived at the apartment before Blaine.
Well, at least he'd have a story to tell.
He'd sent Kurt a text as soon as he'd gotten word that the truck was in the city, but he hadn't heard anything back before he got on his second plane of the day. What if Kurt wasn't home? He said he'd be there when Blaine arrived, but he hadn't expected him to wait around the apartment all day. There wasn't anything from the moving company, or Kurt, when he landed so he tried to tell himself that everything was okay, but as he tried to call Kurt on the cab ride over, his phone died before Kurt could pick up.
Blaine could imagine what Cooper would say when Blaine told him about his day: that it was a sign. That everything was going wrong because Blaine didn't belong there. But he did belong there, he knew in his heart that he did. Just because it wasn't easy didn't mean that it wasn't right.
He took a deep breath and watched the world outside the window of the cab. He tried to take it all in before remembering that this was his home now, and he'd have all the time in the world to experience and explore. This wasn't a long weekend, this was his life.
The cab pulled up in front of an apartment building that was just another building in a row of many. He checked the building number on the post it before paying the driver and getting out of the car. He grabbed his bags and with his suitcase rolling behind him, and his carry on sitting on his shoulder, Blaine entered the building through the backdoor Kurt mentioned was usually open, and suddenly all the crazy of the day was worth it. Kurt might be angry that he'd been left to deal with the movers, but he'd gravel if he needed to because he made it.
Blaine made his way through the dark hallways to the lobby, and then took the elevator up to the seventh floor, the excitement building in his chest until it got hard to breathe. When the doors opened to the seventh floor, Blaine stepped out and looked around. It was a nice hallway and a few feet away he saw the door marked 7B. On the other side of the door was the apartment, the roommate, the chance to live the dream he'd had since he was a child; since he learned that New York was where Broadway was and that it was magic. And that he wanted to create magic. Something tightened in Blaine's chest and the pressure built behind his eyes. But he'd have time for that later. Now, he raised his hand and knocked on the door for apartment 7B and waited patiently for the possibilities to be endless.
Blaine heard some movement on the other side of the door and a few moments later standing in front of his, a smile on his face, was Kurt. Blaine immediately recognized him from the pictures that Rachel had shown him, but he could see now that here was no picture that could really do the real Kurt Hummel justice. The man in the pictures had been stunning, but in person his eyes were bluer, his brown hair more perfect—even if it may have been a little out place. But could have sworn that his heart did a flip in his chest.
"You're here!" Kurt exclaimed and Blaine hoped the smile on his new roommate's face meant that he wasn't angry about the debacle with the movers.
"I'm so sorry about the delivery mess," Blaine said by way of greeting, "I was actually expecting them to be late."
"Oh, don't worry about it," Kurt said leaning against the door, "I just told them to put everything against the wall."
Without thinking, Blaine hiked his bag higher on his shoulder.
"Oh, my, you're still in the hallway!" Kurt said and then took a step so Blaine could enter the apartment, "Come in! Come in! Welcome home!"
Blaine stepped over the threshold and into his new apartment. His new apartment in New York City. His entire being was electrified.
The first thing Blaine noticed was the mountain of boxes that were set against the wall to his right. But then he took in the rest of the apartment, his eyes full of wonder. He'd seen pictures, of course, and there wasn't anything particularly special about the apartment, but it was the most beautiful place he'd ever lived. The kitchen to his left had plenty of room to do some cooking and included a medium sized white dining table that could seat four. A half wall, decorated with candles, separated the kitchen from the rather large living area. There were two couches, a few end tables, and a rather large television on a stand that was tucked in the corner next to two large bookshelves that held a mixture of CDs, vinyl records, DVDs, and books. There were four closed doors, one on each wall.
"I'd give you the tour, but this is pretty much it," Kurt said, "The closet is behind you, your room is on your right.
Kurt then pointed to the room directly across from the front door, "My room is through there," and then pointed to the last door next to the kitchen, "And that is the bathroom."
Blaine put his bag down, "It's wonderful."
Kurt laughed, "I'm glad you think so. Can I get you anything? You must be starving? I could order pizza and help you unpack. Unless, you want to rest. Of course you want to rest you've been traveling all day."
It was Blaine's turn to laugh. It wasn't just Kurt's good looks that were so enhanced in real life, everything about him was so much greater than Blaine had expected. There wasn't a text message in the world that could convey that.
"Pizza sounds great," he answered, "And as much as I'd love to take a nap right now, I should probably get some of it done if I want to even be able to sleep tonight."
While Kurt went into the kitchen to order the pizza, Blaine looked back at the pile of boxes and wondered where to even begin. When Kurt returned a few minutes later, he suggested that they just move the boxes into the bedroom for now and get his bed put together. He could go through the rest after he'd slept.
An hour later, there was an open box of pizza on the coffee table and Blaine was sinking into the couch. After the day he'd had, it felt like the most comfortable thing he'd ever sat on. Blaine had filled Kurt in on all the drama related to his travels while they were moving boxes and a quiet had settled over there. It was nice.
"So, I have to work tomorrow morning," Kurt told him as he tucked his legs underneath him on the couch.
"On Saturday?"
"Yes. If I can get in there when everyone else it at home, I can get so much more done."
"What do you do exactly?"
Kurt took a deep breath like Blaine had just asked a loaded question, "Mostly, I manage Isabelle. She's amazing, but she keeps a heavy schedule and I don't get a lot done when I'm actually in the office. But, when I'm not doing that I am reading submissions from our staff for posts on the website. Mostly pop culture and fashion pieces."
"Do you write?"
"A little," Kurt told him, "I majored in communications in college, so I can. I just haven't really. At least not lately."
"That all sounds…kind of scary."
The smile on Kurt's face was like Christmas, "I love it."
"Then that's really all that matters." There was nothing Blaine understood more.
"Even as much as I enjoy it, the next few months are going to be some of the most stressful. Getting ready for fashion week is like preparing for war. The only thing I know about my hours is that there will be a lot of them. I will likely rarely be home to eat dinner at a decent hour Monday through Saturday, and on Sunday I'll be catching up on the stuff I didn't get done the other six days of the week.
"So, the short of it is that I'm very glad you decided to move in, I just don't know how much of me you're going to be seeing for a while."
Blaine nodded, "Rachel did mention something about you working a lot."
"I'm afraid to know what else Rachel told you about me."
Blaine laughed, "Just that you two grew up together in Lima, that you came to New York after she did, and that you lived with her until she moved to LA."
"So, none of the juicy stuff?"
"Nope," Blaine said, "I figured you'd either tell me the juicy stuff on your own time or you'll eventually get really drunk and tell me your deepest darkest secrets."
"Note to self," Kurt said smiling, "Don't get drunk around Blaine."
"I guess I'll just have to find out the important stuff on my own."
"What kind of important stuff?"
"Oh, you know. Name, date of birth, social security number. Favorite color."
"Favorite color?"
Blaine gave Kurt a sly smile, "To know someone's favorite color is to know quite a bit about them. And once you know their birthday it makes gift giving rather easy."
"Interesting theory," Kurt said, "Also makes it easy for you to hack into my online banking profile."
"I see your argument."
"So what about you," Kurt inquired, "What are you doing for work?"
"I have no idea," Blaine said truthfully, "I have enough saved to cover rent for a little while, so don't worry. But I figured I'd unpack and explore the city. Looking into auditions and if I have to wait tables in the meantime, then so be it."
"It's kind of inspiring that you came out here like this," Kurt told him, "It reminds me of what Rachel and I were trying to do when we moved from Lima."
"I finally got sick of asking myself 'what if' and not ever having an answer," Blaine told him, "It was time to get one."
"I admire that."
"Thank you," Blaine said, and then yawned.
"You've got to be exhausted," Kurt said, and then looked at the clock by the TV, it was only ten, but it felt so much later, "And I have to get up early. I'm going to call it a night. Do you need anything?"
Blaine rose up off the couch slowly, the stress of the day aching in each of his bones and muscles. Like he'd aged fifty years in fifteen hours, "I'm just going to take a shower and get some sleep. I'm going to try to get as much as I can out of those boxes in the morning so I can spend some time exploring tomorrow afternoon."
"Okay. Let me know if you need anything," Kurt said, "Sleep well."
With a smile, Kurt disappeared into his bedroom and Blaine was alone for the first time since he'd left Cooper's house that morning. In his bedroom, he searched his bag for his toiletries and took a quick shower to wash the dirt of the day away. And then finally he tucked himself into his bed, in his room, in his New York apartment, ready to end the day that started out crazy, but now felt better, felt different, felt right.
Tomorrow he would wake up and start his new life. Tomorrow he would start to live his dream.
AN: HELLO! How are you? It's been a while. I started this at the beginning of the year and I couldn't stop thinking about it kept writing. This is very much a work in progress, but I will be doing my best to get updated out regularly. Please leave a review and let me know what you think! 3