He's in with the normal people this time – that's what he gets for making such a last minute decision he supposes. But he's not in the mood for trying to be nice to fans – either nice or pushy ones - so he really hopes that whoever he's sat next to is oblivious to or really discreet about the fact that they are sitting next to an award winning actor and singer. He just doesn't want any hassle – this could be the biggest opportunity of his career – one meeting with an elusive but fantastic stylist that could make him a star forever.

He strides through security, relying on a well-placed hat and scarf and his scruffy, student appearance to keep his anonymity. He's fairly sure he's been spotted but he thanks the stars that his passport is checked by a motherly looking middle aged lady who doesn't betray by even a twitch of her eyebrows whether she's recognised him or not. He grabs a coffee and grimaces at the taste before heading through security to get eyed up by an air hostess as he hands her his ticket. He wishes he could tell her she's really not his type but he knows it's a bad idea to draw attention to himself. As he wanders down the aisle, stopping to check seat numbers now and then, he notes that he has a window seat and mentally cheers. The excitement of seeing the ground left behind has never left him and it's never the same viewed from behind someone else's shoulder.

He reaches his seat and groans almost silently. He hates having to squeeze past other people on planes but it's equally bad asking them to get up to let him in. but the man is already making motions to get up and Blaine's heart softens. It's so nice to run into a gentleman- a gentleman who, Blaine notes, is hopefully gay.

He gets a good eyeful of a lovely round bum as he sits down and he mentally scolds himself. He's meant to be keeping a low profile, not eyeing up a strange yet certainly lovely looking young man. He feels a flush rising up his face which is probably due to the fact that he's still wearing his scarf and a coat. It can't be due to that fact that he may have been caught in his slightly open staring. The young man had gone back to his book however, and he feels safe enough to unwrap himself and plug in his music to lose himself in a world of sound for a few hours. He is unaware of the shy blue eyes peeping at him from behind the shield of a book.

He's not really sure what to do. He's sat next to a very attractive, slightly scruffy man who's singing along with whatever he's listening to. It's quite tuneful and Kurt would be happy to drowse off and maybe dream he was being serenaded but really he wanted to sleep properly and he could tell by the annoyed looks people were throwing his way that they wanted to as well. Gathering his courage he reached out and timidly tapped the beautiful man on the shoulder. The only response was an infinitesimal turn of the head and the cranking open of an eyelid. Kurt felt his colour rising as he saw the glimpse of a golden iris.

'Umm'

'What?' the man grumpily muttered.

'Well…it's just that you're singing… and … umm… that little old lady keeps looking like she's going to rip your head off and I'm not that keen on blood and gore and also I'm trying to sleep.'

The last bit was said in a rush as the man's head turned his way and he felt his breath departing abruptly on beholding both golden eyes.

Blaine felt a fizz through his arteries as he looked the other man full in the face. He wasn't handsome, he was beautiful. Pale soft skin contrasted with perfectly upswept chestnut hair and wide eyes of and indescribable blue gazed back at him. His enjoyable perusal of the delights of his fellow passenger was abruptly curtailed by said beautiful man rising on his long lean legs and walking away up the aisle. Blaine fought the inappropriate urge to wolf whistle, knowing he should use the time to get himself under control but all he really wanted to do was start jotting down lyrics while he stared at the beautiful stranger.

The most bewitching eyes he had ever seen had looked straight at him and his mind had gone blank. What was he supposed to say when the only thing he could think was 'your eyes are golden like molten brown sugar' which didn't really seem appropriate. So instead he'd probably acted like a total drama queen in rising as gracefully as he could and walking off. He had an important meeting and only a few more hours until he needed to be as professional as possible. He couldn't meet his next client while only being able to think about the man from the plane.

He decided that 'Beautiful' had a point. Maybe sleep was a good idea – he needed to be fresh for this meeting anyway. Switching to a playlist of soothing solo piano music, he pulled his hood up and tucked himself more comfortably into his seat. That was one good thing about being shorter than average, he didn't have to sit at an awkward angle to fit in his legs – unlike someone he shouldn't be thinking about.

He wandered up and down the aisle for a few minutes and was relieved, if a little disappointed to see his neighbour had turned and seemed to be taking a nap. Kurt re-settled himself gently in his sleep to avoid disturbing 'Scruffy'. He shifted anyway, exposing a curiously triangular shaped eyebrow and dark lashes sweeping against tanned skin from beneath the shadows of his hood. Kurt held his breath for a moment and then resolutely turned away from temptation. He would sleep and then be fresh for his meeting.

Inside the shadows of his hood, Blaine smiled. He was sure that Beautiful was watching him, he knew he was irresistible. The mile dropped as he slit open an eye to see Beautiful's admirably broad (for such a slim guy) back. Apparently he wasn't as irresistible as he'd thought. He needed to work on that.

Kurt winced as he attempted to relieve the pressure his tight jeans put on his crotch. The tight trousers certainly looked good and guaranteed him a second look from most gay guys (and a few women) but they left very little to the imagination, especially in certain uncomfortable situations. He craned his neck to see if there was a queue for the loos and leapt to his feet when he discovered it was free.

Squeezed into the tiny space, he eyed himself in the mirror. The dim lighting was probably sparing him from the worst of what he looked like but he knew that he was probably wide eyed and very pink. He couldn't hide for long though so he pressed his hand to his crotch, thinking of his stepbrother having sex. This was an image he'd been unfortunate enough to have engraved on his memory but he found it helpful in situations like these.

He sighed with relief as he felt the evidence of his attraction subside. Having splashed his face with cool water, he steeled himself to sit back down next to the object of his desire.

'Only one more hour' he murmured as he settled into his seat.

'One more hour' muttered Beautiful, sitting down and brushing Blaine's hand with a firm jumper-clad side as he did so. He restrained himself from prolonging the groping, instead shifting himself so he could see Beautiful's lightly flushed cheek and the think fringing of his eyelashes while ate the same time keeping his notebook out of sight. He wasn't sure what the etiquette was on writing a love song to a man you'd never spoken to but who was sitting next to you and could turn your legs to jelly with an arch of his perfect eyebrow. Beautiful shifted, sending a waft of delicious cologne towards him. Drawing in a silent lungful, he began to write again. He was too inspired not to.

Kurt tried to doze off but he was incredibly distracted by whatever Scruffy was doing. He could hear the scratch of a pencil and the low murmur of his voice. On the page he had glimpsed, the writing had looked like poetry or maybe song lyrics. He swore he could feel eyes on him but trying to spy on Scruffy through his eyelashes wasn't terribly productive.

He mentally praised the high heavens when the annoying air hostess announced that they were now descending and would shortly be arriving at Heathrow airport. The flight had been torturous for him, above and beyond his hatred of flying. Scruffy shifted beside him, groping for his seatbelt and Kurt froze as a warm hand brushes his upper thigh.

Shit! He'd just groped Beautiful! It could have been worse, he knew, but it seemed pretty bad to him. He felt his ears pop as the plane began to descend and thanked whoever had been listening as he'd prayed for the torture of temptation to end. Normally he quite liked flying but this had been a journey unlike any other he'd experienced.

He lost sight of Beautiful as they went through passport control and he cursed his height or lack of it. He needed to find his bags and get out of the airport so he wouldn't do something stupid like try to find Beautiful and ask him out before ravishing him on the baggage carousel. He bit back an involuntary moan as that image played in his brain. As he heaved his bag off the carousel he caught a glimpse of perfectly upswept chestnut hair and felt his heart speed up as he craned his neck to see where Beautiful was going. He trudged over to the waiting area, scanning for a sign with his name on it. He almost caused an accident as he stopped in the middle of a group of people when he registered the chestnut hair beside the sign.

Kurt felt a momentary stutter in his calm breathing as he saw a very familiar man approaching him. He'd been told to wait by the sign saying 'Anderson' as he would be meeting the singer himself and his producer there. Scruffy was still walking towards him and he stopped his inane chatter with the music producer who looked up in surprise.

'Blaine!' he called.

Kurt's brain did a backflip in unison with his stomach as he tried to process the horrifying information. The man he'd sat next to on the plane, who he'd lusted after and nicknamed 'Scruffy' was his new client, Blaine Anderson.

Blaine advanced towards Artie, pleased to see his friend and producer but seriously confused by Beautiful, who was just standing there looking as confused as Blaine felt. He raised an eyebrow as Artie and hoped he would come to the rescue. Artie wheeled forward and smiled broadly. 'Blaine, meet Kurt Hummel, your new stylist.'

Kurt looked at Blaine in horror. Although it had seemed fairly obvious, he hadn't wanted to believe it until he had not choice not to.

Scruffy was Blaine Anderson. Blaine Anderson was his new client. And he was hideously attracted to him.