AN: I think I'm ready to come back from my little hiatus. I don't think I want to continue the kitty!kurt story right now because I don't really have any ideas for it at the moment. Maybe I'll get around to it, we'll see. But over the holiday break (which was a while ago), I got to see Once the musical as my Christmas gift. I absolutely fell in love with the show and the music, and I just really really loved it. It was definitely a huge highlight of my winter break (I also got to see Aladdin the musical in Toronto, it was incredible!) but I was more inspired by Once to write a fic about it. Please keep in mind that I probably will end up changing some of it from the original story since I want to make it my own. Also, I'm going to write Blaine as the lead male character and Kurt as the lead female. I just wanted to explain that it's not because I think of Kurt as a girl and Blaine as the "manlier" one in the relationship, I just think that it would work better for the story. So I hope that doesn't offend anyone. I also really encourage everyone to listen to the Broadway recording of Once on youtube or something while you read this, because the music really is amazing. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy.

Open mic nights at The Lima Bean were never Blaine's favourite.

Tuesday's at The Lima Bean meant that any poets, musicians or comedians that lived in the general Lima area would stumble in with their arms full of sheet music or instruments and perform whatever they wanted. Tuesday's were typically the nights where the locals were absent, because people would rather sip their overly sugared lattes in silence rather than listen to an aspiring artist stand at the front of the cafe.

Blaine used to love open mic nights. The turn out was never great, but he loved performing at any chance he could get. Or at least, he used to. That was six months ago, before his boyfriend Sebastian cheated on him and moved to New York. But Blaine didn't like to think about that. So instead of performing on Tuesday's, Blaine would come in and sit down at his usual table at the back of the room and write in his journal or on his laptop. He didn't quite know why he still came to the open mic nights if he never participated or thoroughly enjoyed them. Maybe his brain was just conditioned to come in on Tuesday nights and have a coffee at this point.

So, there Blaine sat one chilly November evening, writing in his journal with an earbud in his left ear and his right ear turned towards the sound of the act performing. Even though Blaine never gave his full attention, he always made sure to clap the loudest when the performance was over, because he knew how it felt to have your talent on display and getting no reaction. Scattered, light applause sounded throughout the cafe as the act who just concluded their rendition of Katy Perry's Roar took a small bow.

After what felt like a few hours later, people began to shuffle out of the shop with their hands full of lukewarm paper cups. The technical equipment for the open mic was being put away into the shops storage room. The old antique piano was pushed up against a wall of the shop where it would hibernate until next Tuesday. Blaine hadn't even realized it was almost closing time since his face had been in his notebook the whole time. The shop was almost completely empty, and the sound of someone loudly screeching their chair across the linoleum floor brought Blaine back to life. He rubbed at his eyes wearily and sighed, closing up his notebook and yanking his one earbud.

"Goodnight, Blaine," said Anna, one of the baristas. She had her coat buttoned up all the way to her neck, her face buried almost entirely in her thick scarf. "It's almost closing time. See you later."

Blaine gave Anna a small smile and a wave. "See you, Anna. Have a good night."

Blaine looked around. There weren't too many people left, only a young, 15 year old looking girl typing furiously away at her keyboard with loud music blaring from her headphones at one table and a guy sleeping at another table. Blaine eyed the tiny makeshift performance space for the open mic nights. It was a tiny and pathetic space to the left of the front counter. There were little speakers set up on either side of the space like two pilars and the piano pushed against the wall. It wasn't much, but for some people, it would probably be the only performing opportunity they could get.

Looking down at his side, Blaine reached down and touched the fabric carrier of his guitar. Though he usually played it alone in his room nowadays, he still brought it almost everywhere he went. His guitar was like a part of his person, and it would feel strange to leave it behind. He looked back at the typing girl and the sleeping guy. They didn't look like they were paying any attention to him, which is what he wanted. Blaine unzipped his guitar free from the carrier and grabbed the journal he'd been writing in.

He crossed the cafe and sat down at the piano bench. Blaine remembered when he used to play show tunes and top forty pop on the piano all the time, back when Sebastian still lived in Ohio.

Blaine set his open journal down on the piano to the song he had been writing. He only had the lyrics and none of the actual music had been written down yet, but he had a pretty good idea of what he wanted it to sound like. He set the guitar on his lap and began to strum lightly.

I can't wait forever is all that you said

Before you stood up

And you won't disappoint me

I can do that myself

But I'm glad that you've come

Now if you don't mind

Leave, leave,

And free yourself at the same time

Leave, leave,

I don't understand, you've already gone.

Blaine got lost in his music. He didn't even really mind if the typing girl and the sleeping guy or any of the baristas were watching him, because it was really the first time he'd ever sung this song out loud after having it in his mind for so long. It was something he needed to get out. Blaine found that harbouring stuff in never made him feel better, but he did it anyway.

With a final strum, Blaine finished his song. He hadn't even realized how much he'd gotten into the music until he was finished playing the song. He'd been practically belting out the last verse, and he was almost short of breath when he was done. Feeling a lump in his throat and tears threatening to sting his eyes, he hung his head low, taking a deep breath. A few moments of silence passed.

"Wow. That was amazing."

Blaine nearly jumped out of the piano seat and dropped his guitar on the floor at the sound of a high pitched voice. He whirled around and was met with a man standing a few feet away from the piano.

The man looked tall and young, definitely in the same age range as Blaine, making him around eighteen or nineteen. He wore a navy blue peacoat buttoned all the way up to his neck; a grey scarf tied stylishly around his neck in a unique looking knot. His coiffed, chestnut brown hair had tiny snowflakes planted in it. He was clutching a leather brown messenger bag to his side. The navy blue in his peacoat brought out the bright blueness of his eyes, making them appear brighter than the artificial lights keeping The Lima Bean lit. A curious look gleamed in his eyes, looking back and forth from Blaine's guitar to Blaine's face.

Blaine hadn't even heard him come into the store. He noticed that the typing girl was gone, but the sleeping guy remained at the table, dozing away. It'd probably only been a few minutes since he started his song, but it felt like much longer.

"I'm sorry," the man said, "I didn't mean to startle you or anything."

Blaine cleared his throat. "It's okay. I mean, you did, but it's alright."

"That was a really nice song you were playing," the man said. "Like, seriously, I ran inside just to get a last minute cup of coffee, but I had to stay when I heard you singing. What song was that?"

Blaine couldn't help it, but warmth flooded to his cheeks at the man's compliments. It'd been a long while since he'd received a compliment from someone about his songs. Most of his feedback had come from his friends, family, Sebastian…but not usually from strangers.

"Um, I wrote it," Blaine explained. "I haven't named it yet, but I'm thinking about calling it Leave, since it's the word I sing most in the song." Blaine laughed.

The man's jaw dropped. "You wrote that song?"

Blaine nodded.

"Wow," the man said. "That's…it was really good."

Blaine gave a small, shy smile. "Thank you so much."

"I don't mean to pry," the man said, "but do you write songs? For a living, I mean?"

Blaine snorted. "No, it's just a hobby I have."

"Just a hobby?" the man said. "You gotta be kidding, right? That one song alone deserves to be sold on iTunes right now! Or, illegally downloaded by millions of kids all over North America, as I should say now."

Blaine let out a nervous laugh. He couldn't believe he was hearing this from some random guy who walked into The Lima Bean at nearly eleven at night. "You're making me embarrassed."

The man quirked his head to the side. "Why are you embarrassed? That's a serious talent you got there. You should be proud."

Blaine rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks."

There was a split second of awkward silence. "Sorry if I interrupted you. You looked like you were getting really into it."

"Yeah, that happens sometimes, especially when I think no one is watching. No need to apologize, though."

"Do you perform here?"

Blaine shook his head. "No. I used to, on open mic nights, but I guess I just…grew out of it. I do kind of miss it sometimes, though. The feeling of performing. Feels kinda good to just…sing."

The man cleared his throat. "You could play right now. For me, if you'd like."

Blaine looked surprised. "What?"

"Why not perform a song right now?" the man said. "I mean, there's no one else in here except for dozy over there," the man gestured towards the sleeping guy, "and me. I could even play back up for you, if you'd like."

The man walked up to the piano and played a simple scale. "Sorry. Was that too forward? I hope it's not too weird."

Blaine smiled. "It's…a little weird. I'm flattered, though. But um…my stuff isn't really that great, and it's closing time soon anyways."

The man looked slightly embarrassed for a second, but he recovered and determination glanced in his eyes. "How can you say your stuff isn't that great when a stranger just praised the ground you walk on for one song? You know, a compliment is always genuine when it comes from someone you don't know. Come on, there's still a bit of time before the shop closes."

Blaine smirked. "I feel like I'm putting on a concert for no one."

"Maybe," said the man. "But at least it's a chance to perform."

Blaine looked at the man for what felt like a long time. He got a proper, closer look at him. It looked like his eyes were mixed with other colours, like green and grey. He had pretty pale skin and rosy red cheeks from the cold outside. It was obvious that he was cute. In fact, he was more than cute. Something about his bright eyes and small, tempting smile made it difficult for Blaine to say no despite how late it was getting and despite that he'd known this person for about a minute. But, he knew that he probably should anyway, just because he didn't know if he was quite ready to share his songs with people again. Not like how he shared them with Sebastian.

"Thanks so much for making my night by showering me with compliments," Blaine told the stranger, "but I really do think I should get going. I'm pretty tired, and it's getting late. But seriously, thanks."

Blaine moved off of the piano seat and slung his guitar over his shoulder. He was walking towards his table to retrieve his bag and coat when all of a sudden, he heard the melody of a familiar tune begin to play on the piano. He knew the tune all too well.

He turned to see the man sitting at the piano, smiling at him as he played a few notes on the piano. But he wasn't just playing the melody to any song. It was one of Blaine's songs.

"Hey, how did you-"

The man smiled. "You left your sheet music here, you know."

Oh.

The man turned back towards the music and looked at it for a long time, trying to get an idea of what it would sound like in his head just by sight reading the music. "Falling Slowly," the man said. "That's a nice title. The tune is nice, too. Romantic."

"I'm glad you think so, but I really should-"

"Is this song complete?" the man said, talking to himself. He flipped through the crinkled up page of the song on the piano stand. Blaine was a little annoyed that some stranger was going through his music right in front of him, but that curious expression on the man's face made Blaine not completely dislike him. It was nice to have someone take an interest in his music, even after Blaine told himself he was going to stop writing it.

Before Blaine could say anything, the man suddenly began to play the music very rapidly. Blaine jerked his head back and frowned.

"Hey, hey!" Blaine told him, and the man's head turned to look at Blaine.

"Not so fast," Blaine conducted. "Take it easy. Slower. Here…I'll show you."

Blaine took a seat on a chair next to the piano bench and slung his guitar to the front of his body, strumming it once before positioning his fingers over the strings. "It's not a fast song. Just…take your time with it, like this."

Blaine demonstrated by playing the music on his guitar. He could feel the man's eyes on him, watching his fingers coast along the guitar. "There. Repeat that."

The man did as he was told, and repeated the tune Blaine had just played on the piano, much slower and sweeter than before.

"That's nice," the man said.

"You haven't even heard the whole song," Blaine replied.

"I know. But I can just tell, it's nice. Will you play the whole thing? Please?"

"I should really get going-"

"Like I said, I'll accompany you on the piano. And hey, maybe they won't kick us out once they hear us playing beautiful music."

Blaine eyed the man, and then smirked. "Okay, but on one condition. You're gonna have to sing a long."

The man cocked his head to the side, a devilish grin stretched across his face. "You've got a deal."

"Alright, then," Blaine said, straightening himself in the seat. "I'll walk you through the first section. It goes like this…"

Blaine repeated what he had just played, and the man followed along, his eyes flickering back and forth between the sheet music and Blaine's guitar. Blaine began to sing.

I don't know you but I want you
All the more for that.

"This is where you come in," Blaine said, strumming lightly. "Can you read harmonies?"

"I'll do my best," the man replied. He joined in.

Words fall through me and always fool me

And I can't react.

The man's voice was distinctively high pitched, especially for a male, but it sounded unique and as clear as a bell. Blaine was singing a love song with this man and he didn't even know for sure if he was gay, but based on how comfortable he was singing a romantic song with another man, Blaine had a hint. There was something telling Blaine to stop singing. A part of him felt out of place and awkward since he was singing his song with a complete stranger. But something was also beckoning Blaine in; telling him to continue.

"That was good," Blaine told him. "It's just me singing this next part. It goes like this…"

Blaine demonstrated once more on his guitar the next part of the song, being sure to go slow so that the man had enough time to look at the sheet music. Blaine begun to sing again.

And games that never amount

To more than they're meant

Will play themselves out.

"Come back in," Blaine said, his speaking voice suddenly much quieter than this singing voice. Their eyes met just before the man joined in with the harmonies.

Take this sinking boat and point it home

We've still got time

Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice

You make it now.

They continued until they had sung the entire song, making sure to slow down in certain places so that they were on the same page. The man, Blaine found, had a great voice, and was pretty good at keeping up with Blaine despite this being the first time he'd ever played the song before. It was probably one of the most bizarre things Blaine had ever done. Not many people could say they'd sung a love song with a complete stranger. At this point, Blaine was telling himself that the only reason why he agreed to sing the song was because he was craving the need to perform. Which was partially true, but, well…there was no denying that this stranger was attractive. Very attractive, in fact.

Blaine listened as the harmonies he wrote blended together and bloomed into the room like a blossoming flower bud. For the first time in six months, he actually felt proud…and happy.

"One, two, three, four," Blaine counted out loud, giving the man the cue that they were near the end of the song. The two played their respective parts together, and with a final strum of the guitar/chord from the piano, the song ended, the last chord reverberating into the room. There was silence.

Blaine looked down at the man sitting at the piano. His face gazed at the sheet music like he was looking at his child for the first time. Blaine had never experienced such positive feedback from someone before.

"So, who is she?"

Blaine looked at him. "I'm sorry?"

"The girl in the song. Who is she, if you don't mind me asking?"

Blaine shook his head. He knew it was his business to keep to himself, but it felt like forever since he had an actual conversation with someone.

"Not a girl. A boy."

The man seemed surprised. "Oh. Forgive me."

"It's no trouble, don't worry."

"I mean, I kind of expected you were gay a little, since you're wearing a cardigan and a bow tie, and no straight men ever have decent fashion senses these days, but I wasn't sure."

Blaine laughed. "Well, you thought right. And…I would assume you are too? I mean, I don't know any straight guys who hit on guys in coffee shops and then sing songs with them."

The man laughed too. "No, I am. Gay, I mean."

Silence.

"So, where is he? Your boy?"

Blaine shoved his hands into his pockets and fixated his eyes on the piano keys. "In New York for the past six months. We're…not really anything, anymore."

"I see," the man said with an apologetic and slightly embarrassed look on his face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"It's okay," Blaine assured him, shrugging. "It's…still kind of a softer subject, but you didn't know."

"The song though…it's lovely. Truly, it is."

"Thank you. Um, thanks for backing me up, I guess."

Before the man could say anything else, a barista walked out from the storage room. "Hey, you two lovebirds done yet? We're closing up right now and I've been waiting in there the whole time listenin' to you too sing about your feelings."

Blaine was about to correct the barista and tell him that they were in no means "lovebirds", but his his wrist watch caught his eye and he nearly had a heart attack. "Oh my god! It's so late, I'm gonna miss my bus!"

He began to gather all of his belongings together as quickly as he could. The man helped him, gathering all his sheet music and folding it into the journal. "The bus? That sucks that you have to take public transportation, especially in weather like this."

"I have a car," Blaine said, throwing his coat on, "it's just busted up right now. I gotta get it fixed."

Just as Blaine was about to rush out of the door with his guitar on his back, the stranger yelled, "Wait!"

Blaine turned around, his hand on the door handle. The man bit his lip before speaking.

"Um, look, I know I just met you and I sang a song with you, and this is totally not what I thought my night would look like, but…I can give you a lift home if you need it. I promise I'm not a serial killer or anything. But my dad owns a tire shop, and we can give you some help on your car."

Blaine felt the chilliness from outside even though he hadn't even opened the door yet. "I…would feel really bad just intruding into your car."

"No no," the man said. "I offered. I mean, you shared your music with me…and I'd feel bad if I just let you go home in this awful weather. I can drive you home, if you want."

Blaine knew he should reject the offer, but it was absolutely freezing outside, and he knew he'd miss his bus at this rate anyway. "Really?"

"Really," the man repeated, a kind smile on his face.

Blaine sighed. "Okay, okay. Really, thank you so much. And…you sure you're not a serial killer?"

The man laughed. "I promise. Besides, if I was a serial killer, I probably would have killed you already." The man gave a wink. "Come on, my car's this way."

Just before the man could exit The Lima Bean and show Blaine his car, he stopped him and held out his hand.

"My name's Blaine, by the way."

It wasn't until then did they realize that they didn't formerly introduce one another. The man smiled and gripped Blaine's hand firmly.

"Kurt."

AN: The songs used here were Leave and Falling Slowly, obviously from the Once soundtrack. I personally like the Broadway recording a little more than the movie one, but the movie is still good. All music and lyrics written by Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová. Also, I've decided for this fic that I'm not going to post the entire lyrics for a song whenever there's a scene with a song in it. I'll probably post just the first verse and the chorus since the songs from Once are pretty long.