Kurt is fed up.

He's been searching for Christmas presents for Sam's little brother and sister for at least two hours now, and Lima is getting busier and busier as it approaches midday. He really can't bear the thought of entering another horrifically packed-to-the-brim toy shop.

It is Christmastime after all.

Why did I volunteer for this? Never again.

Reluctantly, Kurt hops onto the escalator and contemplates leaving it for today when he spots yet another kid's shop, named WhizzToys. There are people dressed as characters from Toy Story outside the door, posing for photos with far too eager parents and their oblivious toddlers. Every now and then, a mother will drag her horrified looking teenager into the shot, and in return will earn a look that could kill. It is quite humorous, actually. Kurt chuckles at the scene in front of him, and braces himself before he walks in.

If there's nothing of a reasonable quality or price in here, I'm going home. I'll have to get Mercedes or Rachel to do it; I can't possibly look at any more My Little Pony dress-up sets or Transformers Lego. The price of some-

Kurt is pulled out of his rambling thoughts abruptly when one of the workers catches his eye as he walks in. The guy, who must be about the same age as Kurt, is wearing a Santa hat and red apron over the top of a cream crew neck jumper with red and black stripes at the top of each sleeve. His eyes are big and brown; Kurt can tell that from a distance. But Lord, his smile. It's flashed at every customer and then to the people working either side of him, who laugh, presumably at a joke he'd told. Kurt internally cusses when he realizes he is stood right next to the entrance, staring. He's pretty sure his mouth is hanging open slightly, too.

Focus, Kurt. Presents.

He spots a small stand at the end of the third aisle, selling off last season's best gifts at half price. A giant sign above his head tells him that it is opening weekend, giving him an extra 30% off. Excusing his way through parents and young children, he picks out two gifts for Sam's brother and two for his sister, cradling them in his arm as he makes his way over to the queue. It moves surprisingly quickly, and Kurt notes that brown-eyed big-smile guy is working at till three when he reaches the first place in line.

"Checkout number 3 please," the mechanical voice booms.

With a feeling of urgency that he hasn't experienced all day, Kurt hurries forward. Clumsily, he lets go of the toys onto the desk, and glances up.

Holy mother of-

"Hey there!"

Breathe Kurt, breathe.

The guy is even more attractive up close. Little curls of brown escape from the hem of the Santa hat, and Kurt wishes it wasn't covering the rest of his hair so much. Plus, he has really nice shoulders.

Kurt, what are you talking about? Shoulders? Maybe you've had too much coffee.

"H-hi." Kurt's voice is scratchy, so he coughs. As he does so, he notices the name tag.

Hi! I'm Blaine and I'm happy to help.

Blaine.

Blaine is a good name. Kurt likes it.

"So, are these for you?" the guy-Blaine, says, smirking a little.

He wants to talk. Talk to him, Kurt.

"No, they're for my friends little brother and sister. I've been shopping for hours; you wouldn't believe how busy it is everywhere!"

"Oh don't worry, I do! We've only just opened. I've only been working for a few days and I've never seen queues so long. It's kinda crazy." He smiles wide, and Kurt's heart flutters.

"That's, um, yeah, I get why, with it being Christmas and all that." Inside, Kurt's mind is yelling. Ask him something not related to the store! Doitdoitdoit. "The weather's really bizarre too. One moment it's sunny and the next it's snowing."

WEATHER KURT. REALLY? That's all you could come up with? Dummy.

"Ha-ha, I guess it is," he replies whilst laughing, placing Kurt's items into a bag.

Damn, Kurt thinks, I've totally blew it now.

"That'll be twenty-eight dollars and sixty-seven cents, please." As Kurt pulls out his wallet, he notices Blaine writing something down.

"Sure," Kurt says, handing over thirty dollars. He makes sure that his and Blaine's hands don't touch because doesn't want to completely melt on the floor. Blaine keyes something into the machine and places Kurt's money inside the till.

"Do you want a freebie bag?"

"Huh?"

"I asked if you wanted one of these goodie bag things. They've got crayons, some Lego key rings, a bracelet and some discount code or something like that. They're a limited time offer I think, just for this weekend." Blaine looks expectantly into Kurt's eyes, and Kurt forgets how to breathe for a second.

"Um, sure, whatever." Kurt is pretty sure Blaine could ask him to pay for some dog poop and Kurt would oblige. He's good at sales.

No, it's just that you like him.

"Great! I mean, you could give it to one of the kids or keep it yourself, the bracelets are pretty freaking awesome." Blaine chuckles, and Kurt realizes he really likes the sound of his laugh. He doesn't know what else to say, so he laughs along. Suddenly, he finds he can't stop. He looks over to Blaine, who is in the same predicament. They giggle like teenage school girls for a few solid minutes, constantly setting each other off just as they start to recover.

Eventually, the two of them settle down, Kurt on the brink of laughter tears and Blaine rubbing his slightly stubbled cheeks, trying to stop them from being in such a huge grin.

"Ahhh, I'll give that to you then," he speaks, a hint of laughter still in his voice as he passes the change from the purchase over to Kurt. He, however, isn't as bothered about contact as Kurt, and places the coins into his outstretched hand, lingering longer than Kurt thinks he should. I'm not complaining. "Here's your bag, the receipt is in with the toys and yeah, I guess that's it."

"Well, thanks," Kurt murmurs, unsure of what to do.

"No problem. Come back soon!" Kurt is almost positive he blushes bright pink. He picks up his items and walks towards the door. At the last minute, he turns his head back to look at Blaine, who happens to be staring straight at him. Blaine's eyes meet his, and then snap straight to the person walking toward his till.

Kurt exhales deeply and carries on walking. He has definitely chosen the right time to get out of Lima, as the streets are getting alarmingly full, with cars circling the lot in desperation, trying to find any parking space available. He quickens his pace and dumps the bags on the passenger seat of his Navigator. In the rear view mirror, Kurt sees a car start flashing its turn sign, obviously claiming his space.

Once he is buckled in and ready to go, for a reason he doesn't understand, Kurt reaches over to the freebie bag and starts looking through it. There are, sure enough, some crayons and Lego bits, a bracelet and a discount voucher that is in fact a limited offer, and a note. A note. Kurt pulls the folded-up piece of blue paper out, and notices that his hands are shaking. It is probably nothing, just a piece of rubbish or a promotional flyer or something. Just open it, Kurt.

Kurt's breathing hitches when he sees a plain piece of paper with a single line of black handwriting across the center.

I like your sweater – Blaine (:

WHAT.

Kurt's brain spirals headfirst into overdrive. He likes Kurt's sweater. He likes Kurt's sweater. Blaine, handsome cute adorable ball-of-fluffy-Christmassy-ness Blaine, likes Kurt's sweater. He had put his name on there too, and a smiley face.

From behind him, the car waiting for his space beeps their horn.

"Alright, alright, I'm going!" Kurt says to himself as he puts the bag back onto the passenger side seat. He places the note in his lap and pulls out of the parking lot, a wide smile gracing his features.

Blaine likes his sweater. Maybe Blaine likes him.