A/N: Hello, dear readers. If you are reading this...wow. I was not expecting that. Since you've done me the great honour of reading my fanfic, I have a confession to make: I haven't watched Glee since around 2015. Shocking, right? It used to be my world. I spent my days as a pre-teen reading and writing fanfiction about the characters and I didn't even watch season 6. The truth is, readers, I wrote this circa 2013 when I was 14 years old. I am now 19 and in university. I don't know if anyone will read this, but I poured my little 14-year-old heart into this fanfiction, and there's no sense in leaving it sitting in my documents folder collecting dust. Maybe there's someone out there who still cares about Glee and will derive a bit of joy from my work. If that is you, then I hope you enjoy this little story. I'm sending it out into the world for your enjoyment. Without further ado, here is Untouchable:

1 NEW TEXT

RACHEL: Can you pick up some eggs while you're out? I wanna try making a soufflé for dinner :)

Kurt shook his head. Ever since he had mentioned to Rachel a few weeks ago that he did all the cooking in their apartment, she had become obsessed with cooking all of their meals. Considering that Rachel's best dish was Kraft Dinner…it was torture. Well, he did have to walk past the supermarket on the way home, and he should probably pick up some microwavable lasagna for when his roommate's dinner failed miserably.

KURT: Fine

Kurt walked into Whole Foods and walked into the dairy section for the eggs. Then he remembered that they'd run out of cereal this morning, so he grabbed some All-Bran. Then he saw that there was a sale on tomatoes, which he needed for a recipe he wanted to try out. After that, he grabbed some backup food for tonight sure-to-be trainwreck dinner. By the time he was done, he had his arms full of food. I should have grabbed a basket, he thought. He started walking from the bakery section to the entrance where the baskets were when his phone buzzed.

1 NEW TEXT:

Could you grab some mashed potato flakes too? I'm planning shepherd's pie for tomorrow

Kurt rolled his eyes and turned to go back when he crashed into someone and dropped all his food. The eggs fell and broke on the floor. He bent down to grab his other unbroken foods while the stranger did the same.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry…." The other person said apologetically.

"Its fine, it was-"Kurt froze as he looked up and found the most beautiful face he had ever seen just inches from his. The man had dark, gelled hair and hazel eyes. They stayed like that for a few seconds, looking into each other's faces before the other man looked away and continued picking up Kurt's things.

"Really, I'm so sorry, it was my fault." He said, running his hand through his hair, a gesture that Kurt found adorable. Stop that! You don't even know him! Kurt mentally scolded himself.

"No, it wasn't your fault. I was the one distracted." Kurt argued.

The stranger sighed. "Well, at least let me pay for your groceries. It's the least I can do."

"No, you don't have to-"

"Please. I want to." He said. Then he grinned mischievously. "Don't make me pull out the puppy dog eyes…"

"What-"Kurt was cut off by the most ridiculous puppy eyes he had ever seen. He laughed, and said, "Well, I can't say no to that!" The other man smiled and took the groceries. They walked to the checkout line, which was surprisingly empty for a Sunday evening. After the stranger paid, he walked Kurt to the exit.

"What a gentleman," Kurt said.

"And they say that chivalry's dead." The other man replied with a smile. Kurt laughed.

"But seriously, thank you for paying for my groceries. It was really nice, considering it wasn't even your fault." Kurt mentioned.

He rolled his eyes. "Right, because it wasn't me who was so lost in my daydreams that I didn't even notice that there was someone in front of me."

"Then we'll call it even," Kurt replied, adjusting the grocery bags in his arms. "Well, I guess this is goodbye."

"Goodbye, then," The man said with a smile that left Kurt in a daze before walking away. Kurt wished he had asked for the stranger's name. But it was too late now. He walked home and turned the key to the apartment he shared with Rachel. He barely had time to step in the door when his roommate practically attacked him.

"Did you get my text? Because you didn't text me back! Did you get the eggs? What about the mashed potatoes?" She asked excitedly. Kurt put the bags in the kitchen and handed her the food.

"Yes, I got them, and your second text actually killed the first carton of eggs I had grabbed," He said. Rachel gave him a puzzled look. "When I got your text, I turned around to go get the potato flakes and I crashed into some guy," He paused, thinking of the handsome stranger before continuing. "Causing me to drop the eggs and therefore metaphorically kill them."

Rachel squinted her eyes at him before saying, "He was cute, wasn't he?"

"What? Who?" Kurt asked, confused.

"The guy you bumped in to! Look, I probably shouldn't mention this, but you always bite the inside of your cheek when you talk about someone attractive." Kurt's eyes widened as he noticed that he had been biting his cheek. "You're blushing!" Rachel said laughing as Kurt felt heat rush up to his face.

"So, tell me about him! On a scale of one to ten, what would you give him?" She asked.

Kurt sighed. "On a scale of one to ten, I'd give him…an 8. Maybe 8 ½…a 9…but not over a 9.8." Rachel stared at him. "Look, it doesn't matter anyways. He's probably straight. And even if he was gay, I'm never going to see him again."

"No! Kurt, don't you see? This is just like that rom-com we watched the other day! You know, the one where the two people meet because they step into a taxi from opposite sides and they think they're never going to see each other again but then they do when they meet at the restaurant where she works part-time and then the fall in love and they have-"

"RACHEL!" Kurt yelled to stop her from going any further. "I crashed into him at the supermarket, he very kindly offered to pay for my groceries even though it wasn't his fault, he walked me to the exit and we parted ways. That's it."

"HE PAID FOR YOUR GROCERIES?!" Rachel exclaimed. "Oh my God, Kurt, that is so romantic, I can't even…"

Kurt sighed. "Rachel, there is nothing going on. I don't even know why you're overanalyzing this so much. DON'T ANSWER THAT," He said as Rachel opens her mouth to say something. "Now can you please get started on failing at making soufflé? I want to be able to have the lasagna in the microwave by 6:30."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Fine. But this isn't over."

Blaine Anderson was late for work.

Granted, it was just a part-time job at a local coffee shop, but he HATED being late. He had been trapped in a strange dream where it was all black except for a pair of blue eyes. It was such a nice dream he hadn't wanted to wake up. Well, he got his wish. He had slept in until 7:40, and his shift started at 8:00. He jumped out of bed, took a 2-minute shower, grabbed a granola bar from the pantry, selected a bowtie from his vast collection and ran out the door.

As he walked down the streets of New York, his thoughts kept going back to the eyes in his dream. He had read somewhere that every dream means something. He'd never believed it, because practically every dream he had had for the past 6 years had been about getting accepted to Hogwarts. But maybe those eyes actually meant something. Nah, he thought to himself. I'm over thinking this

Blaine checked his watch as he walked into the shop. 8:03! He was three whole minutes late! He ran into the kitchen to grab his apron when his manager, Wes grabbed his arm.

"Can we talk for a sec?" Wes asked him. Blaine gulped. He had known Wes since high school, and he knew that he hated tardiness as much as Blaine did. They walked to the back of the kitchen.

"What's going on with you? You're never late." Wes asked him in a serious voice.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry!"

"Okay, there are three reasons someone who hates lateness as much as you do would be late. Number one, you're being intimate with the love of your life. Number two, you're pretending to be intimate with the love of your life. Number three, you're dreaming about the love of your life. Pick one, or I pick for you." Wes said, staring at him.

"Um…well, it definitely wasn't one or two…but the only thing I dreamed about was a pair of eyes!" Blaine said exasperatedly.

Wes' eyes widened. "What did they look like?"

"…They were the most beautiful things I'd ever seen."

"Did they look familiar?"

"I think so; I just can't put my finger on whose they are," Blaine answered, sighing.

"Well, they clearly belong to the love of your life; we just have to find out whose they are." Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Wes, why would I be dreaming about the eyes of the love of my life? I don't even know who's they are!"

"Blaine, I'm gonna make this quick because you need to get to work, but listen: why would a stranger's eyes appear in your dream unless they were your soulmate? This is a sign. Something big is going to happen, I can tell." And with that he handed Blaine his apron and sent him outside.

Hey Rach. Are we still on for coffee at noon? I need some caffeine

Sorry, some kids from school invited me to lunch. Apparently one of their dads is a famous Broadway director, and if I can get on his good side he can pull some strings to get me into his dad's next show

Ah, theatre. The art of singing, backstabbing and kissing asses to get what you want

Shut up! Anyways, I can join you tomorrow

Fine. I'll just go drink my grande non-fat mocha in the back of the shop, all lonely while you're off kissing up to the son of a famous theatre director so you can get the part of Street Urchin Number 6 in an off-Broadway revival of Les Mis

Love you too

Blaine's day had gotten progressively worse. He didn't understand how so many things could go wrong in just a few short hours. First one of their bakers dropped some brownie mix on his pants that left a stain that just wouldn't come out. Then while he was taking someone's coffee order he slipped on some cappuccino that one of the other cashiers had spilt, causing him to fall face first on the floor resulting in a nosebleed and what was sure to be a black eye. Then their smoothie machine broke, and it just happened to be a day where everyone wanted a smoothie and would settle for nothing less than a smoothie. And to top it all off, two separate girls had hit on him. One was actually so angry when he told her he played for another team that she threw her coffee in his face and left without paying. AND his thoughts kept coming back to those eyes he had seen in his dream. He couldn't even decide what colour they had been anymore. Blue, green, grey?

As he stood in the men's washroom trying to wash the coffee out of his apron with a paper towel, Blaine thought about his life. What was he doing? Here he was, 22 years old, and still no closer to his dream than he had been 4 years ago when he came to New York. He had been working part-time at a coffee shop for 3 years, for God's sake! And every time he tried to put aside some money for his education, he ended up having to use it to pay his rent, or for food, or to pay off some debt he had completely forgotten about. And his parents were no help…he shook his head to clear him of those thoughts. This week just sucks, He thought to himself. The only good thing that happened this week was that man I met at the supermarket yesterday…

He closed his eyes and let the stranger's face form behind his eyelids. Perfect porcelain skin so smooth it appeared to be made out of china. Chestnut-coloured hair that looked so soft and silky Blaine just wanted to run his hands through it. But the most memorable part about him had been his eyes. They were so blue it was hard to look at them. Yet they had traces of green and grey in them…it was such a unique combination. Too bad he would never see him again. If only he had asked for his name… Blaine put his head in his hands and groaned. He heard the door open as Wes walked in.

"Hey buddy, whatcha doing?" He asked gently.

"Reevaluating my life," Blaine said into his hands, sliding down on to the floor. Wes knelt down and put a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong with your life?" Wes asked.

"Everything. My job, my parents, my apartment, my lack of money, my dreams, and my complete and utter lack of a love life!"

Wes sighed. "Well, about your job, it can be hard to find decent employment at our age, especially in NYC. And I know you've tried searching, but keep going. There's gotta be something out there. As for your parents, they're assholes, and that's all I can really say. Your apartment…I've told you multiple times you can move in with me and David if it gets too hard. We wouldn't mind a third roomie. Lack of money…again, I've offered you some, but you are too stubborn to actually take it. So here," He said, shoving $30 into Blaine's hand. "I know it's not much, but keep it in your fund for university. Which brings me to my next point," He said before Blaine could protest about the money. "Your dreams. You'll get there someday buddy, I promise. And as for your love life…there's someone out there for everybody."

Blaine nodded sorrowfully. "Thanks, Wes. At least I have good friends." He said chuckling.

Wes smiled. "Anytime, B. Oh, and before I forget, why are your clothes soaked in coffee?"

Blaine laughed. "Another girl tried to give me her number, and when I rejected her, she threw her coffee at me and left while yelling "Why are all the hot ones gay?!"

"Another one? That's the third time this week! Why are you the one that gets all the girls? You'd think they'd be into me, the hot straight guy, but NOOOO." Wes said in mock anger. "That's it; tomorrow I'm making you a rainbow apron that says "Sorry, I'm into dudes".

"You do that."

Wes nodded. "Alright, you have 10 minutes left of your shift. Do you want me to let you off early?"

"Nah," Blaine said. "10 minutes isn't going to kill me."

"Alright. Hey, maybe you'll meet the love of your life out there. You know the one whose eyes you dreamt about?" Wes said, playfully hitting him on the shoulder.

"Right," Blaine said, rolling his eyes as he walked back into the shop.

The next few minutes passed uneventfully. He didn't have any customers, so he just stood there and doodled on a napkin, waiting for his shift to end. Then he heard the bell on the door jingle and saw someone walking in. "Hi, could I get a grande non-fat mocha and a blueberry muffin please?" The person said in a light, high pitched voice. It sounded familiar, but he just couldn't put his finger on whose it was.

"Sure," Blaine said not really looking up. He grabbed the coffee and the muffin and walked back to the counter, handing them to the man. "That'll be two seventy-"He said, freezing when he saw the man's face. It was the same person he had crashed in to at the store.