They stand in line at a coffee shop, both completely unaware of the significance; March 15th is no one's definition of an important day. They've both stood in this line too many times to count. This is hardly new. The important thing is that they are both standing there now.
Kurt is rushed, late for yet another audition for an off-off-Broadway production of some play he's never heard of.
Blaine is just starting a lazy day; he doesn't have any classes until well after two.
Neither one of them really should be here, not at this time. But somehow, they both are.
In other lifetimes, in other worlds, they've met a thousand times. They met in high school, in college, at the bus stop, by text. But here they never have. They've never lived farther than twenty minutes away from each other but somehow their paths have never crossed. They've never even seen each other. Until today.
Blaine is the kind of person who believes in things like fate and karma. He thinks that the universe will eventually decide that he deserves something good, decide that all the shit he put up with growing up is worth some sort of epic cosmic redemption.
Kurt has always accepted that there is nothing bigger in the universe, nothing looking out for him. It's a nice thought, useful for comforting children, but it does not factor into the life he's lived. He believes that coincidences are what they are; luck-of-the-draw once offs. Nothing special, and certainly not worth thinking about.
They make eye contact briefly, waiting for the line to move forward.
Kurt notices warmth of Blaine's smile.
Blaine can't help it, Kurt has beautiful eyes.
The line shifts forward and it is all Blaine can do to stop himself from reaching out and taking Kurt's hand. It's silly and childish and exactly what he'd have done in high school. But that had never turned out well, so he jams his hand deep into his pocket, instead.
Kurt, used to carefully watching the actions of others, notices the motion. He cocks an eyebrow, holding Blaine's eye for a second before smirking.
Blaine blushes red. He isn't used to people noticing what he means when he does things. Especially not people as gorgeous as Kurt.
They both look away, well aware of the social protocols that surround staring. And eye contact. And smiles.
Blaine places his order matter-of-factly. He comes here often enough that there is no mumbling over sizes or questioning of food. He gets the medium drip and the two biscotti and quietly sits at the table by the door. His eyes continue to follow Kurt. His interest hidden behind a sip of his drink.
Kurt's order is read off so quickly that the teenage girl behind the counter is left staring, her gum smacking quietly in the silence.
"Grande non-fat mocha." He spells out more slowly, a tap of his foot indicating his impatience. "And one of those stupid giant cookies." She nods and accepts his money, handing over the cookie in return. Kurt smiles back at her, determined not to let his irritation show. He walks to the end of the counter and waits for his drink, eyes drifting to the door, and to Blaine.
Kurt smiles when their eyes meet. The first genuine smile in a long time.
Blaine just blushes again.
Kurt almost walks out without stopping at the table by the door. He almost makes it to the audition, almost gets his first leading role.
But something makes him stop, some silly feeling, fluttering in his stomach. It hits him just as he pushes the door open, makes him pause before turning neatly on his heel and dropping into the chair across from Blaine.
Blaine grins and offers him a biscotti instead of his name.
Kurt accepts and passes half of the stupid giant cookie over in return.
In the years that follow, the story gets muddled. They forget what flavour the cookie was and whether the biscotti was good. They can't remember if it was a sunny day or if it had been unseasonably warm. They cannot honestly say they know who spoke first.
There are days where they argue over the merits of karma and serendipity before sweeping each other into swooping kisses that deny reality. They embellish at high school reunions, trying to outdo Rachel's third husband. They are sickeningly sweet when they explain the story to their kids and blunt when they tell Finn and Burt.
New York swallows the coffee shop, leaving a hundred like it in its place. They have screaming matches in the rain and cry in the middle of Central Park. The years and details blur together a haze of New York and Broadway and trips to Ohio.
Eventually they forget that there even was a story, forget that there was ever a time they didn't know each other.
But even at the end, long after they've forgotten everything but each other they remember the importance of March 15th.