Blaine sighed, ducking into his new favourite coffee shop, discovered on his first day in Paris with his parents, to get out of the rain. He smiled as the aroma of coffee and gingerbread hit his nose. He joined the queue, humming under his breath. He opened his eyes to order, blinking in shock as he came face to face with a beautiful boy. The boy had chestnut hair, glasz eyes, was all angles and cheekbones, and every thought flew from Blaine's head.
"Um…" He muttered, blushing when the Beautiful Boy smirked slightly. "A coffee to go?" He asked in French.
"Of course," the boy replied, and turned to fill the coffee cup. Blaine was pleasantly surprised by the boy's voice- high and clear as a bell, yet rather soft. It suited him perfectly. Blaine hoped that the fact he had checked the boy out quickly had gone unnoticed.
Blaine took his coffee, scampering down to his seat. The Beautiful Boy continued working, occasionally glancing over at him. Blaine went to pick up his cup, and frowned- a dark blue corner was sticking out from under his cup. Lifting it, he discovered a folded piece of paper, and he opened it.
A series of musical notes covered the first half of the sheet in shiny silver writing. Immediately, his mind began translating them, and he hummed along- aha! He knew this song! It was the same one that had taken over the internet, and he could recall the lyrics perfectly: Hey I just met you/and this is crazy/but here's my number/so call me maybe.
Underneath it was a mobile phone number, and some loopy, swirly writing, in English: Here's hoping you'll follow the song's advice.-Kurt (your server).
Blaine smiled. He took out a pen and began to write. First, he took down the phone number, and, after slipping the paper into his bag, began to write on a napkin.
Kurt picked up the gorgeous boy's coffee cup. He'd been hoping that the boy would have at least texted, but no luck. Maybe he wasn't gay, or was in a relationship…
He noticed his a napkin folded carefully next to the cup. He opened it up, noticing the small, neat, no-nonsense writing on it.
Kurt, it began, and, like his own letter, continued with musical notes. Kurt smiled- he knew these notes! It was the chorus to Katy Perry's Teenage Dream; he'd learnt it for a music class. A mobile number followed it.
Just in case. – Blaine Anderson.
PS: How did you know I'm American?
Kurt smiled, entering the number, and tapping out a quick text. Screwing up his courage, he pressed send.
Blaine sat on the bench outside, hoping his phone would chime. Suddenly, the text chime sounded. He started, wondering if he had imagined it, but he checked his phone- there it was, the name Kurt lit up. He opened the text.
Blaine,
I'll let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans.
Kurt
PS: My dad's American- I recognise the accent.
Blaine smiled as he typed out a reply. He had a feeling that his next few weeks were going to be very interesting.
Kurt,
Be my Teenage Dream tonight.
Blaine.