Author note: So as usual I don't know where this is going. And I am not gonna promise to update on any regular basis either. I am a fickle writer who doesn't have the best track record with multi-chapter stories; I'll usually lose inspiration and abandon them eventually. I do better with one shots. I'm the type of writer who can go months without writing anything and then suddenly I'll sit up all night and something like this happens. It's really out of my control. Sorry. So read and follow if you like, but don't expect too much. Keep in mind though that reviews may inspire me to write more ;)

November 25th 2014 - Very early morning hours: Flight 490 from New York, NY to Columbus, Ohio. Blaine POV.

Blaine couldn't stop staring. The man was gorgeous. Simply put. There was no other way to describe him. He had noticed this marvelous creature the moment he sat down in the row across from his - which was almost half an hour ago and he had been ogling him shamelessly ever since. Seriously, he knew his obsession with this guy was dangerously close to reaching an Edward Cullen level of creepiness, but he just couldn't help himself. How could he not admire what was right in front of him, it wasn't often that utter perfection walked in. And it wasn't like he had anything better to do anyway, he knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep with how loud the man in the seat next to him was snoring. Might as well enjoy the scenery - or that's what he told himself.

This man was tall, lean and slightly muscled - the black suit he wore fit him like a glove - who wears suits on a plane though? And showed off his broad shoulders at the same time. Clearly he worked out. His skin was pale and almost radiant, completely blemish free and looked smooth like marble; Blaine really wanted to touch it, but of course he did have some self-control. He looked to be around Blaine's own age, maybe nineteen or twenty. His hair was a kind of auburn shade of brown, there was definitely a very tiny hint of red in there. The guy wasn't a redhead, but Blaine wouldn't be surprised if he had ginger ancestors somewhere in the family tree, that would explain the pale skin too and he secretly wondered if skin like that would freckle in the sun. He really really wanted to find out. It wasn't without some jealously that he admired how the straight silky locks came together in a neatly groomed coif on the man's head. He would kill for hair like that. Blaine hated his curls so he drowned them in gel to keep them subdued.

He let his eyes wander to the man's face. His lips were a pale rosy color and not chapped in the least, they looked so soft and kissable. He had bone-structure to die for; all high cheekbones, a strong clean-shaven jaw and an unusual upturned but cute nose in the middle that somehow just fit the rest of his face. He couldn't see his eyes because they were closed. Which was the only reason Blaine hadn't been caught staring yet. Subtlety wasn't a skill he possessed. But what he could see was the man's incredibly long brown eyelashes fanning his cheeks. And seriously, who had natural lashes like that?! This level of attractiveness should be illegal. It simply wasn't fair to the rest of the human race.

Blaine was worried though. The man had looked exhausted when he arrived and had promptly put his bag in the overhead compartment, sat down without making eye-contact with anyone, buckled himself in and gone to sleep. Of course, it was late - or early, depending on how you looked at it, but there had been such an urgency and desperation to it that seemed like more than just basic fatigue. It was almost like his reality was weighing him down and he just wanted to escape into peaceful slumber for a while. But as Blaine observed him he looked anything but peaceful. He had started to twitch a little and his knuckles were turning white from gripping the seat so tightly in his sleep. Whatever he was dreaming, it couldn't be anything pleasant and Blaine decided to wake him up before it got any worse.

Getting up from his own seat he kneeled down next to the man, gently trying to shake him awake.

"Hey." He tried, softly. Too softly. Because the man didn't wake. Instead his agitation seemed to worsen and his lips parted to let a tiny whimper escape. So Blaine shook him harder, raised his voice a bit more and unconsciously leaned in closer to the man's face.

"Hey, hey. Come on. Wake up."

Suddenly the man's eyes flew open, wild and unfocused and a soft gasp fell from his lips. It took him only a fraction of a second to register that someone was too close to him, touching him and he flinched away from the touch. But Blaine was too mesmerized by the man's eyes to notice. They were a mixed shade that seemed to change from blue to gray to green with the lighting, right now they were stormy gray and so full of sadness that they made Blaine want to hug him until he felt better. There was a name for eyes like that. Glasz, Blaine thought. Naturally it was right during this realization that he finally noticed he was invading the man's personal space, his face too close for comfort and he pulled back. The man seemed frozen, just staring right back at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he opened his mouth.

"What are you doing?" It wasn't accusatory, he seemed more baffled than anything.

And oh my God, Blaine thought. That voice. High and clear, like crystal bells. He felt like he could listen to it forever and never get sick of it. Oh right, he's talking to you. You better answer. "Sorry, um...I...I...eh...well...it seemed like you were...um...having a nightmare and I thought it best to...eh...wake you up, ya know, before you...um...woke the rest of the plane up." Well done, Blaine. Excellent first impression, first you crowd him and then you stammer your way through a simple sentence like a first class moron. Bravo.

He wanted to sink into the floor or maybe melt with the walls or something. To just disappear. Even though he didn't really understand why he was this embarrassed and disappointed in himself. It wasn't like this situation was unusual, he always got nervous talking to guys. Especially really pretty boys. Damn this man and his overwhelming beauty. It turned Blaine's brain into goo and messed with his ability to communicate like a normal person. He blushed and suddenly found a spot on the carpet he was now sitting on, very interesting. Too interesting. He started picking at a loose thread.

"Oh. Thank you then. I guess." When he finally looked up the man was smiling at him and it was the most breathtaking sight he had ever seen. Blaine was sure he was as red as a tomato by now. "I'm Kurt, by the way." The man, Kurt...and didn't that name just fit perfectly like everything else about him, offered his hand to shake and Blaine took it, noticing the almost electric current that ran through him as soon as their fingers connected. Did he feel that too? If he did he made no indication. Kurt's skin was as smooth as he had imagined, he must moisturize Blaine figured although he wouldn't be surprised if he had actually been born with skin like that. If anyone could pull that off, it would be this angel.

"Nice to meet you, Kurt." He tried the name out on his tongue, rolled the R a bit and liked it. "My name's Blaine."

"Blaine? As in Pretty in Pink, Blaine?" Kurt asked and Blaine could just die from the way his named sounded on those lips.

"Yeah, my mom kinda had a thing for Andrew McCarthy." Blaine shrugged. "I know it's not really a common name..."

"No, it's not." Kurt interrupted. "But I like it. It suits you. You don't seem like a common guy, Blaine." Kurt flashed him another smile.

He likes my name! And he doesn't find me ordinary?! Wait, is he flirting with me? Could this guy really be gay? Did Blaine actually have a chance? Sure, his gaydar had given off a loud ping when he first laid eyes on him: the man was not exactly feminine, but he was delicate looking like a china doll and very put together, of course that didn't have to mean anything and God knows Blaine had been wrong before. He was however still flailing like a fangirl on the inside and wanted to keep the conversation going at all cost so he asked the first thing that came to mind.

"So, if you don't mind me asking. What were you dreaming about just now?" Kurt's expression fell and Blaine regretted asking. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked, it's too personal."

"No no, it's okay. But don't you want to come up here and sit next to me, the floor can't be comfortable for you and I kinda feel like I am talking to a toddler." Kurt patted the empty seat next to him and Blaine cheered internally. "I'm also a little bit afraid the flight attendant is gonna run you over with her cart at any moment." Kurt added, his eyes now bright blue and twinkling with humor and Blaine chuckled. Of course Mr. Perfect was clever and funny too.

"Sure. I'll sit by you." He accepted the help he was given as Kurt pulled him up and tried hard to ignore the way their hands fit together perfectly, like puzzle pieces. Blaine sat down and turned towards Kurt, who was already facing him, their eyes locked and Blaine felt like he could drown in those expressive blue pools. "You don't have to answer, you know. If you don't want to." He didn't want to pressure Kurt in any way.

Kurt just smiled warmly at him for a moment. "You're very sweet, Blaine." Then the smile vanished and he stared out the window at the clouds rolling by with a far away look before he set his sight on Blaine again. Kurt hadn't taken his eyes off him for more than a second, but it had felt like an eternity, Blaine already craved those eyes on him at all times. Then Kurt continued. "And I know. But this is probably something I should talk about. With someone who's not emotionally involved." He sighed and Blaine was as intrigued as he was worried, it sounded serious. When Kurt didn't say anything else Blaine spoke up, he wanted to win this man's trust.

"I get what you mean." He said. "Sometimes it helps to talk to a stranger about things. That's why we have shrinks."

"You wouldn't happen to be a licensed therapist by any chance, would you? Because I think I'm in need of one." Kurt joked but there was a hint of seriousness in his eyes.

"Nah, sorry. But I happen to be an excellent listener if you need to vent?" He offered. Please talk to me.

Kurt gave him a long look and Blaine felt like those eyes could see right through him into his very soul. He didn't know what exactly the other male was looking for, but he sensed it was a test of some sort and when Kurt sighed resignedly, he figured he'd passed. Still Kurt didn't open up. Instead he looked down wringing his hands together nervously in his lap and Blaine really wanted to reassure him that he'd meant what he said. Normally he wouldn't be this forward, but there was just something about this man that brought it out in him. He took a deep breath before gently laying a hand on top of Kurt's, just hoping and praying he wasn't overstepping and Kurt wouldn't pull away. When he didn't Blaine started to stroke his knuckles in an attempt to stop the fidgeting. And it worked. They sat like that in silence; leaning towards each other, staring into each others eyes with their foreheads almost touching and it felt so intimate to Blaine. He just hoped he wasn't the only one feeling it.

"I lost my brother last week, the dream was about him." Kurt suddenly blurted out, his eyes back to that sad stormy gray and Blaine realized those Glasz eyes didn't change color with the lighting, they changed with Kurt's emotions. They were literally a mirror of whatever Kurt was feeling. He was already learning so much about this man and it thrilled him to the core; like how his eyes were mostly blue, but when he was sad they were gray. He wondered what it would take to turn them green. Then Kurt's words registered and he felt awful.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry." This explained so much though. The exhaustion he had sensed in Kurt, the sadness in his eyes and the need to just let go for a while and forget. Kurt was in mourning. "Yeah." Kurt breathed. Clearly on the verge of tears. "So am I." Blaine squeezed his hand a little tighter. I'm here.

"Can I ask...?" Blaine hesitated a little. "What happened?" Kurt nodded vaguely.

"It was a brain aneurysm. Finn...that's his name...was his name...," Kurt corrected himself with wet eyes. "He just collapsed one day, the doctors couldn't explain it, they just said that sometimes things like this happen and that it could have been a result of his high school football days. He was a quarterback after all and took quite a few hits to the head, maybe he took one too many. But we'll never really know." He paused, his gaze seemingly fixed on nothing before he snapped out of it and continued. "Anyway, I'm on my way to Ohio for his memorial. That's why I am wearing this suit, I am going straight there from the airport to help my parents with the last of the arrangements before anyone else shows up."

"Kurt. I...I don't know what to say...? That's horrible." Blaine felt like an idiot for not noticing how Kurt was actually dressed in black from head to toe and what that might mean. It seemed clear as day now that those were funeral clothes.

"That's life." Kurt said and it hurt Blaine to hear him sound so jaded. "People die. They always die." Kurt continued but Blaine heard it for what it really was; "They always leave me." He really wanted to say something, but he sensed that Kurt wasn't finished so he just waited. And suddenly Blaine didn't feel so nervous around him anymore. This. Them, talking. It felt so natural. Like he could talk to Kurt about anything. Clearly Kurt felt the same because after that the floodgates opened and he kept talking.

"My mom died in a car crash when I was eight and now eleven years later I lose Finn. He wasn't even twenty, he hadn't lived yet. How is this fair?" Blaine did the math quickly in his head. So Kurt was nineteen, only a year older than him. He filed that information in the back of his head and returned to listening. "At least my dad's still alive. He had a heart attack when I was sixteen, back when I was bullied badly - it took a toll on him - and he ended up in a coma for a week, but he pulled through, surprisingly." Jesus Christ, Blaine thought. Kurt had been through a lot in his young life. Can it get any worse? "Of course, now he has cancer, so...who knows how long I'll have him?" It could. "I mean...," Kurt mused. "Carole is great at taking care of him and he's responding to treatment, but I feel like it's only a matter of time before I'm an orphan anyway. Because that is what happens, I lose...everyone." Kurt sniffed a little and Blaine's heart broke for him. Kurt had lost almost his entire family at the age of nineteen, Blaine couldn't even begin to imagine it. Sure, he wasn't super close to his parents or Cooper, but he would be absolutely distraught if any of them died.

"Oh, Kurt." Blaine paused to choose his words carefully. "I'm sorry that you've lost so much already. It's not right and it's certainly not fair. But I'm sure your dad will be just fine. You have to have a little faith." Kurt didn't answer, just sniffed a little louder. "Aww. Come here." Blaine pulled him into a hug and the other man melted into his embrace as Blaine rubbed tiny circles on his back. Then something Kurt had said caught his attention. "Wait, who is Carole? I thought your mother died?"

"Carole is my step-mother and Finn's biological mother. I've come to think of her as a second mother though." Kurt mumbled. "She married my dad when I was sixteen and she and Finn moved in with us afterward. Finn was just my step-brother." The way Kurt said it, it sounded like he was trying to downplay his relationship with Finn - like he didn't have the right to feel crushed by the loss because they hadn't been related by blood. Blaine knew he had to set him straight.

"Don't do that, Kurt." Blaine said. "Don't minimize what he meant to you. You are every bit as entitled to your feelings as everyone else is. It doesn't matter that he was just...," And Blaine made air quotations around the word. "Your step-brother. Family is more than what's in your dna. What matters is what's in here." Blaine put his hands on Kurt's chest, over his heart. "You loved him. And it's okay to grieve him." By this point Kurt was openly crying.

"I hurt." He sobbed into Blaine's shoulder. "I hurt so much."

"I know. And it's okay to cry. Just let it all out." Kurt clung to him a little tighter. "But it will get better. As cliche as it sounds, time heals. You'll never forget him, but in time you'll be able to remember him fondly, without the pain." They resumed sitting in silence again while Kurt cried himself out as Blaine held him.

"Thanks, Blaine." He finally said and hiccuped. "How did you get so good at this?"

"I actually have no idea where that came from." He admitted. "I just really wanted to make you feel better."

"You did." Kurt smiled up at him from where his head was still resting on Blaine's shoulder. "I feel lighter now."

"Crying will have that effect on you." Blaine wiped a few tears off Kurt's cheeks with his thumbs.

"Ugh, don't look at me. I'm a mess." Kurt said trying to hide his tear-stained face but Blaine wouldn't let him.

"No. You're beautiful." And just like that Blaine leaned in and kissed him. If he had had his eyes open he would have seen the utter shock on Kurt's face, followed by absolute delight. But all he processed in that moment were the soft warm lips against his, the salty taste of tears and Kurt kissing back.

They kissed for a while, tenderly and sweetly. Without rush. It was perfect. Until Kurt pulled back for air and stared breathlessly at Blaine with sparkling green eyes. So that's what it takes. "You are gay?" He asked.

"Yes." Blaine chuckled. "Me kissing you like that wasn't proof enough?"

"Oh, shut up." Kurt said and punched his shoulder lightly, but there was no heat behind it. "You caught me completely off guard and I wasn't sure. In case you don't know, you don't exactly scream gay."

"Really? I thought my bow tie gave it away?" Blaine said, looking at Kurt adoringly, he was so happy.

"Don't stereo-type yourself, Blaine." Kurt scoffed. "The only thing your bow tie give away, is that you are a fabulously stylish individual."

"If you say so, thank you." Blaine smiled.

"I do say so and you're welcome...and I know stylish by the way, I work for Vogue." Blaine's eyes almost popped out of his head at those words.

"Oh my God! I love Vogue. I subscribe to it and everything, I even save every copy I get." He was as excited as a puppy, jumping in his seat, then he kinda froze up. "Wait...wait, wait. Kurt. You work there?" Something was coming together in his head. Vogue and Kurt. Then it hit him. "You're Kurt Hummel."

"The one and only." Kurt blushed, probably at being recognized.

"You write that amazing column on trends every week! I loved the one you did on the bow tie revival." He beamed and Kurt laughed. A sweet tingly sound and Blaine swore right then and there that he would do anything to hear it again.

"Thanks. Of course, you would." He grinned as he let his fingers admire the black and red bow tie around Blaine's neck, then he paused. "This is so weird." He shook his head.

"What is?" Blaine asked and Kurt raised an eyebrow as if to say; "Really, Blaine?" Uh. Sassy Kurt, I like it.

"This! Us!" Kurt said. "We are basically strangers and here we are on a plane. I'm crying on you, you are kissing me - and we only just met. How does things like that even happen?" Kurt wondered.

"Okay, you have a point there." Blaine conceded. "I don't feel like you're a stranger though. You basically told me your whole life story."

"That's true. But I know nothing about you, except your name."

"Well, Kurt Hummel. All you have to do is ask." Kurt smiled big at that.

"Tell me about yourself."

And so Blaine did. He started talking. About his family, school and The Warblers - they were equally astounded that both of them came from show choir backgrounds and blown away when they realized they had actually crossed paths before. Kurt had seen Blaine. But Blaine had not seen Kurt and he felt a little cheated. He told him about growing up in Westerville, Ohio - which happened to be only two hours away from Lima, Ohio where Kurt grew up, they both marveled at that too. About the bullying and attack he had suffered - to which Kurt could relate to some extent. About wanting to move to New York after graduation and study music. About how he was flying back from New York where he had been apartment hunting - he was ecstatic to learn Kurt already lived there. They talked about anything and everything. And learned they had so much in common. It was like fate.

A while later Kurt started yawning, so Blaine pulled up the arm rest between them and suggested Kurt sleep on him. The other man had been reluctant at first, not wanting to crush him or cross a boundary, but had given in when Blaine used the kicked puppy look on him. They had settled down, Kurt curled up next to him, while Blaine held him tightly and ran a hand though his hair soothingly, to which Kurt only protested weakly. Blaine couldn't help but take a quick whiff though, it smelled of vanilla and coconut. A lovely scent that tickled his senses in the best ways. He had been afraid Kurt would have more bad dreams, but he slept peacefully and Blaine quickly dosed off too. They didn't wake up until the plane was about to touch down at Columbus airport and Kurt was the one to wake up Blaine with a sweet kiss. That was followed by cute bantering about Kurt's hair and Blaine was in heaven.

Once they got off the plane and collected their bags, it was like the spell broke though. They walked through arrivals side by side, but were barely looking at each other, except for shy glances. Blaine knew what he wanted to happen now; he wanted Kurt's number and perhaps a date, but he wasn't sure what Kurt wanted. Maybe this was an: "What happens on the plane, stays on the plane," kind of thing. He didn't know what the protocol was for almost kinda hooking up with a stranger 10.000 feet in the air, for Christ Sake. This had never happened before. He'd never had this kind of instant connection with another person in his life. But that was also the exact reason Blaine knew he had to risk rejection - he couldn't just let Kurt get away. Not when there was a very good chance that he was his soul-mate.

Blaine was working up the nerve to stop Kurt and ask for his number, but as soon at they made it though the doors he heard someone call Kurt's name and a burly looking man in a baseball cap and a small women with red eyes were quickly approaching. Kurt looked at him hurriedly and Blaine could see the question in his eyes: "I guess this is goodbye?" And Blaine wanted more than anything to tell him no, but before he could react he was being dragged away from Kurt by strong hands and a yell of; "Squirt!" Cooper, his big brother always had the worst timing in the world. "Hey, Coop. How many times have I told you not to call me that?" Cooper just shrugged.

Blaine hugged his brother back halfheartedly and looked at Kurt over Cooper's shoulder. He was in the arms of the small woman now, Carole probably, Blaine guessed. No more than ten feet away. Kurt was looking straight back at him with an intensity that was hard to mistake for anything but yearning and Blaine was sure the same look was mirrored in his own desperate gaze. Then Kurt was being let out of the airport by his family and Blaine felt panic rise in his chest. When Cooper finally let go of him Blaine didn't listen to a word he said, instead he stared as Kurt reached the exit and paused briefly to look back at Blaine with regret written all over his face. And Blaine just felt like screaming: "No! Please, don't go!" He wanted to run across the terminal, swoop the man up in his arms, kiss him silly and ask him to be his. But he didn't and as Kurt walked out and the doors closed behind him, Blaine felt like crying. That was the last glimpse he got of Kurt. He wouldn't see his star-crossed crush again for four years.