It all started innocently enough.

On a November afternoon, right before the start of winter, Mike was sipping coffee by himself at a local cafe, huddled comfortably in a plush booth with a book in hand, sometimes looking up from the worn pages to peer through the glass window that gave view onto the cold streets outside.

"Hello there."

The voice abruptly yanked Mike away from his reverie and back to the real world, making him look up at one young looking man who had sat down across from him with a fresh cup of coffee put down on the table.

"Hello?" Mike gave the guy an inquisitive look, marking his page down before closing his book.

"I'm Bruce," Mike was offered a hand and hesitantly shook it.

"I'm Mike," he returned, wondering whether he should've been worried about a stranger accosting him like this. Bruce—if that was his real name—looked quite handsome, quite refined for someone his age. His style in clothing resembled Mike's very much; Bruce was wearing a light blue button down shirt with a black vest and dark jeans. Most importantly, Bruce had magnificent, brown, silky-looking hair, something that Mike just could not look over. He had a thing for beautiful hair, he could not help it.

"Short for Michael, I assume? I like it," Bruce flashed him a smile, making his heart flutter ever so slightly. What was happening here? Was Bruce actually hitting on him? Mike always thought these kinds of situation only happened in cheap rom coms.

"Michael is my father, call me Mike," he said half-heartedly, actually liking how his full first name sounded coming from Bruce. He changed his mind almost immediately, "Or Michael, I don't care that much."

"I'm going to cut to the chase here, Michael," Bruce said as he leaned his elbows on the table to get closer to him. "I like you—"

"You don't know me—"

"And I want to take you to dinner tonight," Bruce finished his sentence, unfazed by Mike's interruption. It left Mike speechless as he studied the man in front of him. Bruce's gaze had a way of getting through to him in a way that felt familiar and mesmerizing at the same time.

"All right," Mike found himself accepting and the change in Bruce's features, the way his face lit up comforted Mike in his decision. "But I should warn you, I'm still in high school."

"You are? Damn, how old are you?"

"18," Mike answered as he studied Bruce's reaction. How old was Bruce, exactly? Mike didn't want to go out with someone too old for him. "What about you?"

"Then we're fine," Bruce seemed relieved. "I'm 22. And for your information, you look way too smart to still be in high school."

"And you're saying that based on what? If you say it's because I'm Asian—"

"I'm saying that based on what you're reading," Bruce cut him off, gesturing at his book. "Not every teenager reads Hegel."

"Oh."

"So, have I proved myself to you?" Bruce grinned at him, stirring up a feeling Mike had not felt in a while. Excitement.

"Yes, you have."

They were all waiting on Mr. Schue who was ten minutes late for their session of the day. They had to discuss their set list for regionals and everyone in the room was getting antsy. Mike thought he was hallucinating when he saw the familiar figure enter the room, with dashing clothes and impeccable hair.

"Hello everybody, I'm Mr. Anderson and I'm filling in this week for Mr. Schuester, who, unfortunately, is battling pneumonia."

"Bruce?"

Mike's exclamation was joined by someone else's voice, making him turn to the person sitting next to him, who was none other than Blaine. Blaine mirrored his look of surprise and suspicion.

"Wait, how do you know him?"

Once again, they'd spoken in unison, and it was getting uncanny. Then everything clicked together. Bruce Anderson. Blaine Anderson. Bruce mentioning he had a little brother. It finally made sense and Mike was embarrassed it took him this long to put two and two together. Bruce and Blaine were brothers, how did he not see it? To be fair, they did not exactly look alike. Bruce had a thinner nose and Blaine's eyes were hazel, not blue. Not to mention Blaine's curly hair.

"What's going on here?" Rachel spoke up, arms folded across her chest, her tone as demanding as usual.

"Blaine is my little brother, whom I did not know had left Dalton, this certainly is a surprise," Bruce said, looking straight at Blaine. Questions flooded Mike's mind, most of which were about the relationship between Blaine and Bruce. He looked back and forth between the two of them several times before settling on Bruce and meeting his gaze. They somehow both knew what the other was thinking. Teachers and students could not get involved the way they currently were.

"And I did not know you'd left Stanford," Blaine retorted, a little edge in his voice.

"I graduated, there's a difference," Bruce responded, his eyes not leaving Mike's.

How did this happen? Mike knew about Bruce graduating, they kept in touch quite regularly through text messages and a few phone calls but he had no idea Bruce would end up here, teaching. Bruce told Mike he wanted to go to grad school and be a writer. Mike knew about this and Blaine was Bruce's brother, which begged the question: how did Blaine not know his own brother had graduated?

"Why didn't you tell me?" Blaine asked on cue, sounding hurt and betrayed. Mike could only imagine how Blaine felt at the moment.

"I was going to tell everyone tonight," Bruce explained. It made sense, Mike reasoned. It was pretty big news, something worthy of being told over dinner to the entire family. He felt special though, knowing Bruce decided to tell him before everyone else.

They had not exactly told anyone about their relationship. They didn't hide it to the public eye per se, the few times they went out, they acted like a normal couple. They'd only been seeing each other for three months and both agreed there was no point in making their relationship public to their close friends and family—especially considering their circles of friends did not exactly cross, so their friends wouldn't know who they were dating—unless they knew they were going to work.

"And how do you know Bruce, Mike?" Blaine turned to him, making him freeze on his chair. What was he supposed to respond? He most certainly could not say he was dating Bruce. It would've made a scandal.

"I gave Mike some advice for his college applications, his tutor thought it best for him to come in contact with student," Bruce said matter-of-factly, ever the life savior. Mike always admired that quality about Bruce, about him always having an answer to everything.

"Why didn't you tell me—"

"All right, enough with the chitchat, we've wasted enough time," Bruce intervened before Blaine could pursue with the interrogation in front of the entire glee club. Mike was thankful for that.

"Mike, hold up," Blaine called him as he tried to flee the room as soon as the session was adjourned. He'd expected this confrontation with Blaine. While everybody else had seemed convinced by Bruce's definition of his relation with Mike, Blaine had looked suspicious and had thrown looks at Mike the whole hour they practiced for regionals.

"Yes, Blaine?" Mike turned to look at his friend, glancing quickly at Bruce, who was still in the show choir room while everyone else had left, asking for help.

"I want the truth," Blaine demanded, his tone neutral, bordering on sad, his eyes pleading. "How do you know Bruce, really?"

"Blaine…" Mike didn't know what to say. He hated lying and he didn't want to lie to Blaine. They had gotten close over the months Blaine had spent here at McKinley. He just didn't know how to tell his friend he was dating his brother. "Bruce and I…"

"We're dating," Bruce cut in, appearing beside Mike.

"You…you're…I mean…what?" Blaine stuttered, glancing back and forth between the two of them, the look of horror on his face a clear indication he was not taking this piece of news very well.

"Yeah, we met a couple of months ago at a café," Bruce added, shrugging nonchalantly. "Why so shocked, baby brother? You know I swing both ways."

"No, I know, but…" Blaine settled his gaze on Mike, his eyes filled with sorrow Mike could not understand. Why did Blaine seem so…pained?

"Blaine, are you all right?" Mike asked, truly concerned for his friend.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I uh…I gotta go," Blaine said dismissively and stormed off, urging Mike to go after him but Bruce's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Let him go, he'll be fine," Bruce told him reassuringly. "He's just being his usual drama queen."

"He's upset, Bruce," Mike said, reproaching the amused tone he heard from his boyfriend.

"And there's nothing you can do about it, trust me, I know Blaine," Bruce replied, smiling softly at him. God, Mike had not realized up until now how much he'd missed Bruce. The last time he'd seen him was during the holidays and even then, with their respective families taking most of their time, they managed to see each other a couple times. Mike caved and hugged his boyfriend, melting in his arms and nuzzling up against his neck. He would worry about Blaine later.

"I missed you," he whispered in Bruce's ear, running his hand through Bruce's unbelievably soft hair.

"I missed you too."