A/N: Hey guys! I plan on updating this fic at some time every Thursday (GMT) if possible. In this chapter we get to see Kurt and Blaine interact for the very first time. There's also coffee. Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Knock Knock!
Today's the day. What day I hear you ask? The day I get to meet the new neighbour. I say 'I' and not 'we' because Adam isn't coming. He's busy with something or other - Work, I think. He's the director of the glee club at Brightgate Community College. I would have waited for him to get the chance to join me, but I'm too excited to wait and so I leave my home and lock the door securely behind me.
I tread carefully across the new guy's pathway, taking special care not to step on his freshly mowed lawn, until I'm standing before a glossy cream front door identical to my own. It's time. Take a deep breath, Kurt. I reach my hand out, and ball it into a fist: Knock knock.
After a few excruciating seconds of waiting, the door swings open. Standing in the doorframe is a startlingly attractive man in his twenties - my age if not slightly younger. He's more petite close up than he seemed from a distance - a few inches shorter than me. His hair is exactly the same as yesterday: dark and shiny, and I can already tell that he has an overt obsession with hair gel. He's wearing another bowtie - indigo, this time, scattered with little black polka dots. His face is cheerful and expectant.
"Hey neighbour," I chirp, "I'm Kurt Hummel; I live next door."
"Oh hey," he beams at me, a warm, genuine smile that makes me melt, "nice to meet you Kurt. I'm Blaine. Come on in; make yourself at home."
I step over the barrier of his front door and he closes it gently behind me. He moved in less than forty-eight hours ago and yet his house is already so well put together - so intricately furnished. I am astonished - the decor almost rivals that of mine and Adam's. "Nice place you've got here," I admire.
"Gee thanks," Blaine quips, "it's new."
"Aha, I see you're quite the jokester."
"You could say that," he smiles. We hold eye contact for a moment, until unwanted warmth begins to surface on my cheeks and ears as though turning a disgusting shade of red and I look away, pretending to examine a strange tribal statue he has standing on a podium. This guy is like a young Frasier Crane.
"So Kurt," Blaine says, breaking the silence and forcing me to face him again, "why don't we get to know one another?"
"Are you propositioning me?" I tease innocently.
"No," he says, eyeing me carefully, but I see a twinkle in his eyes. "I was thinking more like by talking, you know? For instance: describe yourself in one word."
Easy: "Fabulous," I say immediately, fighting hard against the temptation to whip out the jazz hands.
"I'd also have accepted 'modest'," he says and we both laugh.
"And you?" I ask.
He thinks about it, then offers, "Adorable," and bats his eyes at me. He's got that right.
"I see we're both very humble."
Blaine laughs and then leads me to his living room, offering me a seat on his - is this real? - leather couch. He excuses himself to the kitchen for a moment and I take the chance to scrutinize a stack of DVDs he has piled up next to the TV. There are a lot of musicals, from West Side Story to RENT and everything in between including - what's this? Moulin Rouge! I love Moulin Rouge! I start freaking out for a split second, until Blaine returns from the kitchen and I resolve to tell him about my love for the best-movie-musical-ever.
"It's one of my favourite movies, too," he grins.
"Well then you have impeccable taste."
"I know," his toothy smile refuses to fade, even as he asks me whether I fancy some coffee.
"Sure," I spit out. Of course I want coffee. Who wouldn't want coffee?
"Awesome," he exclaims, "Grab your coat."
I pause, confused, "You mean we're going out?"
"What? Oh, sorry I wasn't clear. I haven't got many groceries yet, so I was going to take us to a coffee shop. That's okay, right?" He looks like a lost puppy dog, eyes wide and pleading.
"Um, I guess, I mean," I stumble over my words. Would Adam mind? It's not a date; it's making friends with a neighbour. Yeah. Sure. It's fine, I convince myself, "Yeah that's no problem," I beam.
"Cool, just let me grab my keys."
The drive is long - I realise halfway there that Blaine doesn't yet know the area well and is driving to a chain coffee shop in the nearest town. I decide next time to tell him about this cute joint back in Brightgate. We listen to music in the car. I've never heard it before as I think it's indie, and my musical knowledge extends predominantly to Broadway shows. The lyrics echo in my head: When you are close to me I shiver. They're scarily accurate; I am far too close to Blaine to be entirely comfortable right now. At stop lights his hands flex on the steering wheel. God - I hardly stop shivering.
We eventually reach the coffee shop and place our orders. I get a grande non-fat mocha and Blaine gets a medium drip. I wonder if that's his usual.
We grab a table near the back. Every chain restaurant looks the same to me; all sophisticated and brown and plastic looking. Don't get me wrong, the coffee's not bad at all, but I'm definitely telling him about the other place next time. If there is a next time. I hope there's a next time.
"So what brings you to Brightgate?" I take a sip of my coffee; it is steaming and piquant and so damn beautiful. I look at Blaine over the rim of my cup.
"Oh you know, change of pace. I always wanted to act but I struggled to get jobs in New York."
I slam my coffee cup hard on the table, some of the liquid splashes out, narrowly missing my - very expensive - trousers. "Same here. I adore New York. I was so sad when I had to move."
"So why did you?"
"It's so competitive out there; like you, I couldn't find work. I had a stint off Broadway but it didn't pay the bills. I hope I can move back out there someday. But I do love Brightgate. I work at the local theatre. We're putting on a production of Spring Awakening soon; you could try out if you wanted to. I can't guarantee you'll get a part or anything, I'm not a casting director I just design the costumes - how the mighty have fallen, right? But I'm sure you'd do great - I'm not trying out for a part so you won't have any tough competition," I tease.
He laughs quietly, "Thanks man," he says, "That's cool, I really appreciate it."
"Auditions are this Sunday at three. Maybe I'll see you there, I love watching try-outs," not entirely true, but I'm intrigued by Blaine and really would like to see him in action.
"Yeah, maybe," he says and takes a sip of coffee. I watch him drink, watch him inhale, watch his fingers trace the lines of the corrugated cup, his eyes closed in some secret ecstasy.
I glance at my watch, and am taken aback by the time. "It's late," I say.
"Time flies when you're having fun," Blaine flashes a small smile.
"I'd better get home;" I try to look apologetic, "Adam will be waiting."
"Adam?" Blaine asks, "Is he like your housemate or something?"
Woops. "My fiancé," I tell him. I blush, feeling weirdly ashamed.
"You never mentioned a fiancé."
"I didn't?"
"Nope. Believe me, I would have remembered."
"Well," I try, "It never came up."
An odd look overcomes Blaine's face. It is contemplative and distracted but there's something else there. Is it jealousy? No, don't be silly, Kurt, you only met the guy today and besides, you don't even know his sexuality. Though if all those musicals were anything to go by -
"I'd better get you home then," Blaine speaks and it knocks me out of my daze.
"Yeah I guess so," I confirm and take one last sip of my now cold coffee, before tossing it into a trashcan and following Blaine out of the coffee shop.
A/N: I hope you guys liked the chapter! I'm a bit worried that I'm not doing Kurt and Blaine's characters justice. Anyway, please remember to review as it's always nice to hear what people think - whether it's praise or constructive criticism! Chapter 3 will be up next week at around the same time. Thanks for reading!