Gotta Catch'em All

A/N- This is based from a Tumblr post which then inspired a fab prompt by LilyVandersteen. I ran with this one a little bit, it's short and silly and fun. So sorry it's a bit late, I don't even know if this kind of thing has been done yet—probably but never mind. Hope you all like it, thanks for reading :)

Blaine Anderson loves the feeling of having an early night. It's not very often it happens with his busy shifts at his coffee shop he owns and runs just downstairs—but when the opportunity presents it's self, he's happy to admit that he loves his bed.

Being the height of summer and only just past 7pm, the sun is roaring through his bedroom window and through the closed blinds—making it feel more like morning than night time, but Blaine loves it. He loves the feel of burying himself under his freshly-washed, light summer sheets and closing his eyes against the warm, brightness.

He's slowly drifting off—just about in that thick, far-off realm of almost sleep –but not quite— when he hears a small commotion drifting in from his cracked bedroom window, down from the street below.

His bedroom is right above the front street and he's thought so many times about moving to the back bedroom during the summer when he needs to crack a window open because of the heat and the noise of the street keeps him awake. But the front of the building gets all the sun, and there's nothing quite so refreshing than being woken up at the crack of dawn by the natural, soft, orangey-glare of the sunrise accompanied by birdsong.

Blaine shifts and twists. He grabs a pillow and pulls it over his head to try and block out the distraction of life outside his window. It's the first night off he's had in forever and all he wants to do is catch up on some sleep. The shop closes at 6pm everyday and 4pm on Sunday's but just because there's no customers to serve, it doesn't mean that Blaine's not busy prepping or stock taking, shopping or cleaning and tidying for the next day.

However, it seems like whoever the somebody is who sounds like they're standing right below Blaine's bedroom window is rather persistent in making sure that Blaine doesn't get the early night he'd been hoping for.

"Yeah, gotcha. Wait-what? No! Come back you little jerk."

The voice from the street is soft and gentle but hearing somebody say those words doesn't exactly give Blaine a lot of confidence that nothing sinister is happening right outside his window right now. His street is usually a relaxed family area, there's hardly ever any trouble.

"Ha! You can't escape, I got you now."

Curiosity getting the better of him, Blaine sighs and throws back the covers from his body. He's wearing a pair of light blue sleep shorts and a white tank top, sufficient enough to pull back his blinds and have a look down onto the street.

What Blaine finds is not what he was expecting.

There's a boy, maybe more of a young man, standing directly underneath Blaine's window. And he's alone.

Blaine frowns and looks up and down the quiet street both ways, as best as he can. He finds nothing—the street is quiet and empty, as usual. It's mostly residential, apart from Blaine's shop downstairs and a small bakery on the corner, and by the looks of the empty road and sidewalks, everybody has retired for the evening.

Blaine peers down and looks a little more closely at the guy making all the unnecessary commotion. He's tall and slender but Blaine can make out a set of strong shoulders under his dark, pulled-tight, logo t-shirt. He's wearing shorts and sneakers and has a red snap-back on his head, and he's holding his phone in both hands in front of him.

It's very odd and he's completely oblivious that he now has an audience from up above.

"Yes, you're mine! You can't beat me!" The guy suddenly declares, accompanied with a satisfied giggle and a little happy dance. Blaine bites back his grin.

"Oh, no! Why is this thing not refreshing? I'm almost out of balls and there's a freaking Charmander across the street. I don't have any fire-type yet." The guy is furiously swiping at his phone screen with his finger, clearly distressed about something, and obviously not caring that he's talking to himself.

Now, Blaine is completely perplexed. He looks once more all around the guy and finds nothing and nobody there. What the hell is a fire-type? A Char-what?

The guy looks innocent enough, sure he's taller than Blaine, but he's lean and Blaine has been working out recently and boxing since high school—he can hold his own. It's in his nature to help people in need, plus, he's part of his neighbourhood watch program and ignoring this guy would be against protocol.

"Um, excuse me? Can I help you?" Blaine calls down, his voice calm and polite.

The guy startles, jumping on the spot and spins around to look up at Blaine. He swipes his hat off of his head so he can look up clearly at Blaine. His face is a picture—raised eyebrows, eyes comically wide, mouth fallen open into a perfect 'O' shape.

Blaine can't help but grin a little. The guy's actually kind of cute. In fact, he's highly attractive, with creamy, clear skin and a very defined face.

"Is this a Pokestop?" He calls up, his face screwed up into an adorable questionable frown.

"Um, I don't know? But this is my house…if that helps you in anyway?" Blaine answers.

The guy's face actually falls and Blaine hates the feeling that he's let him down in some way. Disappointment is something Blaine can rarely deal with very well.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Was I yelling? I didn't mean to." He puts his cap and phone in one hand and rubs his free-hand through his thick brown hair—it's long and sticks up in every which way and Blaine is shocked at how much he wants to run his own fingers through the stranger's hair.

"Don't worry about it," Blaine smiles, and he genuinely means it. "I was just checking you were ok, you sounded a little distressed?"

The guy blushes prettily, and his lips fall into a cute toothy smile. Blaine's knees feel a little weak and he's glad he has the support of his windowsill to hold on to. He leans down onto his elbows, as much as he can without actually falling out of the window.

With the late sun bright and almost a little blinding not too far off in the distance, Blaine can make out every fleck of color in the stranger's blue-green eyes. They actually shimmer.

"Oh, I'm fine. Sorry, I-I just- it's—" he puts his cap back on his head and taps at his phone screen so that it lights up. Holding it up to Blaine as far as he can, he says "it's Pokemon Go; A game- an app on your phone. You have to find things on this little map. I'm so sorry; I'm so embarrassed right now."

Recognition sparks in Blaine's mind. He thinks he recalls some kids talking about this app in his shop the other day. "Don't be" Blaine assures him, and he means it. "So you're looking for a po-pokey—"

"A Pokestop" the guy finishes for him, smiling up. "It shows up on the map and it's somewhere you have to find that gives you new balls and stuff. They're supposed to refresh after 5 minutes, but this one's just not loading properly."

"Balls?"

"Pokeballs. To catch the Pokemon with."

"I see. And Pokemon are like animals? Like made-up ones that you can only see on your map-app thingy there?" Blaine's only in his early thirties –and this guy doesn't actually look like he's too far-off that himself—but technology just isn't really Blaine's forte. He'd rather spend his free time playing the piano or guitar.

The guy giggles and Blaine actually falls a little bit in love with the sound. "Yeah- kind of. You got it. Pokestops are supposed to be landmarks and public buildings, not people's homes. I'm so sorry, maybe there's a glitch on my app or something—"

"Oh, well it could be my coffee shop just downstairs?" Blaine suggests. He has no idea what a Pokestop is but he suddenly really, really wishes that his shop is one. He nods his chin diagonally down towards the front door of 'Blaine's Coffee Stop' and gives the guy a hopeful look.

The guy follows Blaine's gaze and his eyes light up when he sees the sign. "Oh. You-you're Blaine?"

Blaine nods and smiles, just stopping short of giving a little salute. "I'm Kurt." The stranger tells him, smiling upwards, impossibly wide and bright.

"Hi, Kurt."

"Hi, Blaine."

There's a short, quiet pause and Kurt takes the opportunity to take the few small steps until he's standing directly outside of the entrance to the coffee shop, staring at his phone studiously.

"Hey, it worked!" He exclaims with joy, his smile lighting up his whole face as he taps at his phone. He steps back to find Blaine up at the window again—only Blaine isn't there anymore.

There's a soft click and Kurt startles as a big white, heavy door right beside the coffee shop opens. Blaine appears in his PJ's and a warm smile on his face. His eyes are the color of whiskey as he looks at Kurt and he scratches a hand through his dark, bed-messed curly hair.

Kurt's mouth falls open again, his eyes shining with intent, lips quirking in pleasure. "Um, you should change your shop's name to 'Blaine's Coffee and PokeStop'" he jokes.

"I think I'll do that" Blaine tells him, grinning. "If it means I'll get to see more of you?"

Their eyes land on each others and Blaine is suddenly pretty sure that he'll be seeing a lot more of Kurt— Pokestop or not.