Okay hello everyone :) So this was originally going to be just a short One-Shot but I couldn't finish it all in one, so its roughly going to be two or three chapters. I don't have much experience with writing Klaine fics, so please go easy on me! But I couldn't get this idea out of my head so I had to write it down! :)
"Waiter!"
"Waiter!"
"Waiter!"
Kurt Hummel bites his tongue in order to stop a scream of frustration from escaping his mouth. His shift is merely a few hours in, and already Kurt feels like quitting. These customers don't seem to be able to grasp the concept of patience. Kurt has had enough.
"Coming!" He shouts, to the nearest agitated customer, who examines him before throwing him an icy glare.
Although his service isn't exactly exemplary at the moment, Kurt is fairly sure that he's done nothing to deserve such a glare. Somewhat self-consciously, he glances down at the dark green shirt, and black trousers that makes up his uniform. Perhaps it is the green. It really is an unflattering colour.
Frustrated, Kurt makes his way over to the kitchen where his coworker Santana smirks at him from under her black hair net.
"Trouble in Paradise ?" She asks sarcastically.
Kurt chuckles, recognising the joke. Since the owner decided to name the diner 'Paradise', the employees tend to ask each other whether there is 'Trouble in Paradise' whenever they have a bad day at work. Though Kurt thinks the idea is fairly stupid, sometimes it actually makes him feel better and usually earns some half - hearted snickers around the room.
"You have no idea." Kurt answers.
Santana lets out a sympathetic hum, before gesturing to the steaming plate of food that rests on a black tray beside her.
"Are you gonna get that? The food isn't going to carry itself." She says with an slightly amused tone.
Kurt, who had been daydreaming, suddenly springs to life.
"Oh-oh yes of course." He stutters, before grabbing the tray and rushing out to the customer section of the diner.
His eyes scan the tables, looking for the lucky number thirteen who had ordered a burger and fries. When he finally spots the number thirteen, he scrutinises the man who sits at that table: the curly black hair and broad shoulders somehow look familiar to Kurt.
Without looking down at the man, Kurt settles the plate of food lightly on the table, feeling slightly satisfied that he's managed to do so without breaking something.
"Thank you."
Kurt's heart suddenly skips a beat. He knows that voice. He's heard that voice many times before. Slowly, Kurt glances down at the man in front of him, who is attacking his food with the eagerness of someone who hadn't eaten for a year. A few seconds later, he lets out a small gasp. Oh god. Its him. Its Blaine Anderson: The guy who used to tease him throughout his first year of high school.
Kurt happens to notice, much to his annoyance, that Blaine is still good looking - so good looking that it can only be described as obnoxious. His ebony curls are slightly longer than Kurt remembers them, framing his face like a velvet curtain, but still enhancing his features. He can't see Blaine's eyes, but he remembers what colour they are. He doesn't think he will ever be able to forget the satisfied glint in those hazel eyes as they teased him the past. His sense of style hasn't changed much either, and the fashion fanatic in Kurt cringes at Blaine's ripped jeans and plain fitted black T-shirt. The only thing that seems to have changed is his posture. Back in high school, Blaine had maintained a dominating demeanour, enforced to ward off and intimidate anyone who came near him. Now, his body is almost...slouched. It looks as if the fight has been drained out of him, and Kurt is unsure whether this is a positive or negative thing.
Engrossed in his observations of Blaine, Kurt fails to notice that the other man has stopped eating his food, and has instead focused his attentions on Kurt.
Kurt meets Blaine's raised eyebrow with a small blush, fighting the urge to duck his head in embarrassment. After high school, Kurt promised himself that his days of submissiveness were over. No longer would he shy away from people. Or be afraid to speak his mind. He was going to look people in the eye and show them exactly who he was. No pretenses, no sugarcoating.
But there is something about Blaine that makes him forget about all of that. Perhaps it is the fact that he reminds Kurt of the innocent, hopeful boy he used to be. Or maybe it's because Blaine's questing look and rosy lips turned up into a smirk makes tingles shoot up his body. Either way Kurt is fucked.
"Can I help you?" Blaine inquires, a hint of irritation in his tone.
Kurt opens his mouth to reply, and then closes it again, wondering how the hell he is going to explain him practically staring at Blaine like a creepy stalker.
"No sorry I was just-
"Wait a second."Blaine cuts in.
He narrows his eyes at Kurt, inspecting him as he leans closer. It takes a second for Blaine's eyes to widen in recognition, and it takes him even longer to remember Kurt's name. Even then it's only his second name.
"Oh my fucking god." Blaine exclaims, his eyes bright with amusement. "Little Hummel is that you?"
Kurt grits his teeth at the nickname. He had been hoping that Blaine would be a mature adult for once in his life, and would maybe call Kurt by his name, but that obviously didn't seem to be the case.
"Don't call me that." Kurt practically growls, which earns him a surprised snort from Blaine. "My name is Kurt. But you already know that. I know you're an idiot Blaine, but I am sure you remember me, or can - at the very least - read a name tag."
Blaine grins at that, and it vaguely reminds Kurt of the cheshire cat from Alice and Wonderland.
"Woah. Feisty now are we? Little Hummel's all grown up. And speaking of growing up, when did you get hot?"
If Kurt's cheeks aren't already red with anger, they are now, accompanied by a slight blush at Blaine's comment about him being 'hot'. Kurt knows that the blush is palpable on his features, if the smug look that Blaine is giving him is any indication. While inwardly reprimanding himself for his milky white complexion, Kurt scowls at his former tormentor.
"I am not even going to dignify that with a response." was Kurt's icy reply "Now If you'll excuse me, I have other customers to serve."
Now this is a lie and Kurt knows it. While there have been multiple customers screaming for his attention throughout his shift, they are all silent now, perfectly satisfied with the sudden increase of staff since the end of their lunch break. However, Kurt is certain that he can find something else to do, and if it means getting away from Blaine then that's the icing on the cake.
As Kurt turns to leave, Blaine speaks.
"Wait!"
Kurt stops. He lets out a heavy breath, as if to compose himself, and slowly turns back around. If there is anything that Blaine Anderson is, its persistent. Although Kurt can't think of anything worse than continuing a conversation with him, he knows that it's necessary in order to get him to leave him alone.
He strides up to Blaine's table, slams his hands on the surface and leans into Blaine's direction.
"What!" He hisses, and suddenly regrets his position, as he realises that he and Blaine are in quite close proximity.
Blaine, however, seems to be enjoying this closeness very much, so much in fact that he takes the opportunity to glance unsubtly down at Kurt's lips, causing Kurt's breath to hitch in his throat.
"Go out with me?" Blaine whispers. Kurt supposes its for dramatic effect. Blaine has always had a fondness for theatrics. And though Kurt hates to admit it, it has the desired effect. Kurt shivers, despite himself, while his brain practically recoils at the idea. His heart, however, is a different story. Something awakens there that he hasn't felt in a long time. And Kurt is suddenly mentally sent back to a time where Blaine Anderson was the first boy that Kurt had ever had a crush on, maybe even loved.
"No." Kurt replies instantly. Regret hits him suddenly, but he forces himself to ignore it.
He watches as Blaine's face seems to fall slightly, before the mask is reconstructed and the confident, irritating Blaine is back once again.
"Why not?"
Kurt gives Blaine an incredulous look. "You know why not."
He can't believe that Blaine has the audacity to ask him out. There is a number of things that Kurt expects to happen on a monday. A reprimanding from his boss. Angry customers and occasionally an angry Santana. Blaine asking him is not one of those things. Hell seeing Blaine at all is not one of those things.
In the time that Kurt is expressing his disbelief, Blaine has grasped Kurts arm in his hands, looking up at him with those hazel eyes of his filled with something that Kurt can't quite put his finger on.
"Come on Little Hummel." Blaine moans. "That was a long time ago. I've -
"You've what? You've changed?" Kurt wrenches his arm out of Blaine's grip. "It doesn't look that way to me Blaine. Seven years later and you're still treating me like a child, teasing me, undermining me, even though you'd like to fuck me, sound familiar?"
Kurt doesn't realise that his eyes are watering until a tear slides down his cheek. He wipes it away furiously, and tries to focus his glare at Blaine. Blaine, who is looking at him with a mixture of shame and hope on his features.
Blaine sighs and runs his fingers through his curls frustratedly.
"Look I'm-I'm sorry okay? Please. I regret what happened. And I'd like a second chance." Blaine says sincerely.
His eyes are wide, vulnerable even, but it does nothing to cease Kurt's fears and insecurities. Could he really do it? Could he really go out with Blaine Anderson?
Kurt is aware that they are still in the diner, and frankly he's pretty sure that everyone who is sitting on the table next to them is listening to their conversation. One of the old ladies on the table looks up at Kurt then and winks, mouthing 'Do it. He's cute.' He gives her a shaky smile, before looking away. In any other situation it would be endearing to have an senior citizen's support, but now it is just straight up unhelpful, and only weakens Kurt's resolve to resist Blaine.
As if right on time, a customer shouts over to Kurt, demanding some water for their parched throat. Kurt looks up at Blaine, who is still waiting for a response,and sighs removing his notepad from his t-shirt pocket and scribbling down his number on it. Feeling like he may regret it, he passes the number to Blaine.
"We'll talk about this later." Kurt says.
Blaine tries - but fails - to contain a grin, as he pockets the number quickly.
Kurt straightens up from his position of leaning on the table, where he was practically subjected to Blaine's date proposal, and grimaces at the crack of his back from the strain. For what feels like the hundredth time, Kurt takes a step to leave. But when Blaine speaks, he is forced to stop once again.
"Talk to you later Little Hummel."
Kurt isn't sure whether Blaine said that just to annoy him, or to be endearing, but either way it is exasperating. He can't bare to look behind him and see Blaine smirking at him. Perhaps him asking Kurt out is all one big game, and he's choosing Kurt as a worthy and interesting player. It wouldn't be the first time he's played Kurt. There are many reasons why Kurt loathes the nickname that Blaine has given him, not liking to be a pawn for someone else's amusement is one of them.
"A piece of advice." Kurt says to Blaine without turning around. "If you want that date I suggest you stop calling me that."
Kurt strides away after that, not wanting to speak with Blaine any further. He fetches the customers water, and works harder than ever for the remainder of his shift. During this time he doesn't glance in Blaine direction. Not once. He feels that if he did, he might not be able to look away again. Finally, when his shift ends at five, he bundles up the courage to glance in the direction of Blaine's table. Of course he's not there. But, a small piece of paper is, folded neatly on top of the napkins.
With his heart thumping distractedly against his chest, Kurt picks up the note and unravels it to reveal Blaine's phone number scrawled in Blaine's cursive handwriting. Unlike Blaine, his handwriting is delicate. A pattern of graceful twists and turns. Kurt briefly wonders if that's what the Blaine is really like, instead of this self-righteous asshole who seems to think the world worships him.
"Kurt why the fuck are you still here? I know that you live a very sheltered life for a 22 year old gay but come on this is pushing it-" Santana scolds, before stopping when she notices Kurt's expression. "Wait what happened?"
Kurt crosses his arms, leaning against one of the nearest tables.
"Blaine Anderson happened." He admits with a sigh.
Santana raises an eyebrow, walking up to him and settling herself beside him.
"Shit." She says sympathetically. "Come on I know a good ice cream shop down the road. Everyone knows that eating away the pain is the best cure for heartbreak."
"I am not heartbroken Santana."
Santana gives him a look, and Kurt instantly knows what it means. It means that whatever she's about to say is not going to be good. And of course it turns out that Kurt is perfectly right.
"No not yet. But you will be."
They both leave then. Arms linked together as the cold wind brushes against their skin. Just as they step out of 'Paradise', Kurt begins to wonder if Santana is right. Will Blaine break his heart? Only time will tell.