AN: Thank you for reading the previews chapters, guys! This one's the longest one so far. :)


Spontaneous combustion is a phenomenon that sets an object to flames without an external ignition. It is theorized in humans as well, but is not explained well in nature, which was why Kurt was a skeptic of the theory. For if looks or something else entirely unexplainable could set a person or thing on fire, the file on Kurt's desk would by now be a grand and glorious flame. Spontaneous combustion be damned.

He glared at the file which contained everything he needed to know about one Blaine Anderson while he mentally cursed both himself and the doctor. Being friendly with colleagues was one thing, but blushing and feeling the need to get to know one personally was a different matter entirely.

He didn't understand. It was coffee. One measly hour of coffee over at his favorite place, and yet the man he had only just met had a serious effect on him. And Kurt couldn't afford that. He was a cynic, and he truthfully believed that life outside of the office, outside of the laboratories, was hindrance from driving himself to his goal. Some rational part of his brain told him it was unlikely—that he was allowed to live and hope and be free. But he stubbornly refused. He had spent his entire life building up walls and false pretenses and goals to keep him focused, and no man could simply jump in his path and make him swoon.

Oh dear god. He was swooning. For stubborn as he was, he was not completely heartless. He may be cold and hard, and incredibly difficult to crack, but he was human too, capable of feeling human emotion. He was just very good at stepping on the emotions once they bubbled in the pit of his gut.

With a sigh, he gave in and reached for the file, flipping it open. He reasoned that his curiosity was more for the fact that he needed to know the people he was working with. He was the team leader, after all, and it was his responsibility to make sure the man they were going to be working with didn't have any criminal offenses, or odd kinks, or any personality quirk that could prevent them working as a cohesive team. Yes, he reasoned. That was exactly why his mild interest turned into sheer engrossment upon merely the first page of the file.

Blaine Anderson, MD. Oncogentics fellow. Graduated top of his class at OSU. Bachelor of Science in Biochemistry. Johns Hopkins School of Medicine, with a residency in Internal Medicine from the same school. Runs a private practice in New York City, and is, glaringly, handsome. And single. Glaringly, gloriously single.

His achievements on paper were impressive. Kurt's brow was raised as he surveyed Blaine's scholarships, his undergraduate thesis, his personal essays, and a bunch of other documents that uplifted his resume enough to leave Kurt speechless. Blaine Anderson was indubitably talented, and a fine addition to the team. Honestly, the foundation was lucky to have him.

But what struck Kurt most was the idea that despite this man's countless achievements, he remained modest and approachable, charming, and open to building personal relationships with the people around him. He wasn't cold or closed off or walled up like Kurt was. The years of studying and learning and experiencing arguably depressing circumstances didn't turn him into an automated pilot, not in the way it did Kurt.

He pursed his lips, his eyes trained on the smiling photo of the dashing Dr. Anderson, and wondered how he had done it. Sure, Kurt wouldn't exactly change himself—it was his choice to be this goal-oriented in the first place. But Blaine seemed like the man Kurt probably would have been had life not been so unkind to him—full of zest but determined, sharp and witty, and kind, too.

Closing the file and setting it on his desk, he promised himself that one day, he'd open his heart out too. One day, when his dreams had been fulfilled, he would. But not right now, not when they were teetering so close to the edge of finally, finally finding a cure.

xxx

For Blaine Anderson, however, it was a different story. He had walked back to the foundation with Kurt, and now found himself behind his desk in a depressingly empty room. That would change soon, he knew, but his surroundings certainly weren't helping him with his thoughts about the mysterious Kurt Hummel.

He wasn't lying when he said he'd read about Kurt in various publications. Kurt was well known in his field, and his advancements in cancer research provided hope for so many across the globe. It was one of the reasons he joined this particular research team. But the medical community was thriving with gossip too—and he had heard through the grapevine that Dr. Hummel was a fierce, cold-hearted bitch that willingly distanced himself from any human relationship. It was harsh, and Blaine knew better than to believe everything he heard. The proper Dalton man would not pass judgment so quickly on a person, he reminded himself. But he soon realized that just as he thought Kurt was warming up to him, he completely walled up and steered the conversation to something more neutral, effectively ending any sort of discussion that wasn't inconsequential.

It wasn't rocket science to deduce that Kurt, socially stunted as he was, put up the boundaries around himself for a reason. Blaine didn't know what those reasons were, but he wanted to. He wanted to get to know him—to stare into his blue eyes, memorize his features and—

No. He couldn't. They had only just met. He told himself that the fascination he was feeling was only due to a combination of things: the fact that this was the Kurt Hummel and the fact that this was his new co-worker. His fascination was not because Kurt was beautiful, was not because the air of mystery around him lured Blaine in, and certainly not because he remotely liked him as more than a person, or a possible friend. No, it wasn't that. Or at least that's what he told himself.

And that was how it happened. In the week that followed, Blaine had settled in nicely into his office, a warm couch sitting at the far mocha-colored wall, pictures lining his desk, and his organized files stacked neatly against another wall. Tacky as it was, he had his diplomas hung up, and a fresh bunch of flowers resting in a white vase that his mother had sent to him a couple of years back. His office was very him—homey and warm and welcoming (a stark contrast to his actual home with a bed he rarely slept in, although that's a story for another time).

But despite the warmth within his office, the outside felt just as cold as when he had first arrived. Oh, the people were lovely, yes. He had met Dr. Quinn Fabray when she returned, and had gotten know the staff quite well. He'd join them for lunch, and even made plans to watch a game with some of the guys the following weekend. For the most part, he had settled in well. But one Kurt Hummel, who either seemed a recluse in his office, or a man stricken with the bubonic plague in the corner of the laboratory, only offered him small, kind smiles within the week, interlaced with quiet good mornings and anything of equal pleasantry.

That was when Blaine concluded that Kurt distancing himself was a regular occurrence. None of the other doctors knew Kurt as more than an acquaintance, the exception being Quinn because she was the only one who knew him even before medicine. Kurt seemed to enjoy silence, and valued his independence so fiercely that he'd much rather work alone in his office during the day, and enter the laboratories as soon as everyone was filing out in the afternoons, ensuring that he could work in peace, than interact with everyone during regular hours. It baffled Blaine that someone could live so separately from everyone else. The only time Kurt ever seemed to connect with other people was during the team meeting every other day, where he remained friendly and civil, but formed no real bond with his co-workers. He basically redefined the expression "no man is an island" entirely.

On the first day of Blaine's second week, he found himself sitting in the boardroom beside Quinn, bright and early, waiting with the rest of the doctors for Kurt to arrive. It was one of those meeting where they recapped their findings, and discussed the implications on the entirety of their research.

Tapping on the lid of her coffee, Quinn arched a brow and looked questioningly at Blaine. "You seem lost in thought."

"It's early on a Monday morning," Blaine countered, smirking. "If I seem to be lost in thought, it's thoughts about my bed, which I don't seem to see enough of. And sleep, which I don't get about 97% of the time."

Quinn chuckled dryly. "You'd think that years of being a doctor would've reprogrammed your body to function on little to no sleep."

"Oh, it has," Blaine hastily reassured. "I just wasn't able to get some decent shut eye last night. My next-door neighbors were jumping each other like a bunch of sex-crazed, hormone-driven teenagers all night. The bed kept slamming into the wall."

Quinn winced sympathetically, as if to say I'm sorry. "You should have called them out."

Blaine shrugged. "I didn't want to cockblock them, the same way I don't want to be cockblocked when I'm feeling like a sex crazed, hormonal teenager."

Quinn laughed appraisingly. "So that means you're one of the few of us who's actually getting some?"

Blaine shook his head, chuckling a little in disappointment. "Being a doctor doesn't really leave you much time for that." Getting laid on a regular basis sounded almost close to impossible with the hours he kept. Even the very act of meeting someone seemed close to impossible because he almost never left the hospital—what more getting laid?

"Not even a quick fuck?" she inquired, her brow raised.

"I'm more of a long term relationship type," Blaine explained thoughtfully. "Still waiting for the right guy."

"Hm," Quinn replied. "You're not the only one."

Licking his lips, Blaine wondered if Quinn would be opposed to satisfying his fascination with Kurt. He'd play it off cool, of course, though he was pretty sure Quinn would see right through it. He figured there was nothing to lose, and she didn't seem the type to judge him for it.

"Hey Quinn," he asked quietly, his voice upturned in the end.

Quinn tilted her head to look at Blaine expectantly. "Yeah?"

"I... Kind of have a question."

She raised a brow at him again. "Okay?" she said on a slight laugh.

Blaine paused and met Quinn's gaze. "About Kurt."

For a moment, Quinn's expression was unreadable before a sad but almost amused smile crept up to her features. "What do you want to know?" All of the new fellows seemed to have some level of curiosity regarding Kurt, so Quinn wasn't exactly surprised that Blaine was asking.

Everybody else in the room was engrossed in their own things, leaving Blaine and Quinn's quiet conversation private. Blaine didn't exactly want everyone to know that he was thinking about Kurt, and definitely didn't want to give them ideas about the nature of those thoughts.

Shrugging, Blaine continued. "I don't know. I guess... Is he always the way he is?"

"What? Aloof and stand-offish?" she asked curiously.

He shook his head. "No, more like... With a compulsive need to be ferociously independent... And left the fuck alone," he tried, wincing a little at the glorified description.

Quinn snorted, bemused. "That's one way to put it. A creative way of putting it, actually. Did Dalton Academy teach you to use such flowery words?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Shut up, I'm serious," he said, even as he blushed just a little bit.

Turning serious, Quinn straightened up in her seat and shrugged, her index finger tracing around the coffee cup lid as she spoke. "Yeah, I guess he's always been like that. I mean, in high school he was a little warmer. Now it just gets harder and harder to get through him."

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, his attention now fully trained to catch all of Quinn's words.

"It's always hard to figure out what goes on in his head," Quinn explained. "The way I understand it, he puts his head over his heart—completely driven and entirely uninterested in... I don't know... Relationships of any kind except for his family and the little number of friends he has."

"That's... Actually pretty sad."

Quinn nodded in agreement. "Can't really say I blame him though. He's gone through some crap."

Blaine considered her words for a moment before he licked his lips. "Would it be too personal to ask what kind of crap he's been through? Other than the bullying—he mentioned it my first day."

Furrowing her brow, Quinn met Blaine's questioning gaze solidly, narrowing her eyes. "Why are you so interested?" she asked, suspicion evident in her tone. Yes, people were curious, but there was something different in Blaine's queries.

He thought about lying, about justifying his questions as "the new guy's curiosity"—trying to learn the ropes and all. But he usually wore his heart on his sleeve, his emotions an open book. Quinn easily could have called him out on his dishonesty. But more than that, he wanted to be able to trust Quinn, and Quinn to trust him. It was a dynamic quintessential for any friendship.

"He's... Intriguing, I suppose," he answered lamely, settling on the word even if it sounded wrong.

"By intriguing do you mean you're interested in him? Because Blaine, I've never seen him actually date. He's dated a couple of guys in college, but none of them were ever enough."

"Enough?" Blaine asked. Enough for what? Enough for him?

"Enough to get him to slow down," she said, as if the answer was obvious. "No one's ever gotten close."

Oh. "So... He's not in a relationship of any sort, then?" Blaine clarified slowly, earning a mildly amused look from Quinn. He prayed his voice didn't sound too hopeful, betraying thoughts he hadn't had the time to process just yet.

"No... But good luck being the first to crack the code. If you haven't noticed already, he's a little too cold for someone as warm as you."

Blaine frowned. "I really don't want to allude to metaphors, but ice kind of melts in the presence of heat."

Quinn chucked dryly, trying not to wrinkle her noise in disdain at Blaine's poor attempt at justifying. "You like him?"

"I... Don't really know," Blaine answered unsurely. "I mean, I know nothing about him. My only opinion of him as of the moment is that he's...intriguing, like I said."

She nodded. "None of these guys have real opinions of him beyond his unquestionable talent," she said, gesturing to the staff dispersed around the room.

"He must be really lonely then," he commented as his eyes scanned the roomful of doctors, more to himself than to Quinn.

"I don't doubt that," Quinn said. "I try everyday to get him to loosen up, but it takes a lot of effort." She didn't say that it was exhausting, because that was sort of obvious.

Blaine wondered if he possessed the same patience Quinn had. She had stuck with him for such a long time, not giving up and trying her best to understand the little intricacies of Kurt's personality. He wondered if he had the capacity to warm Kurt up, just a little bit, and be just as good a friend (if not more) as Quinn was.

"Anyway," Quinn continued, "you can try getting to know him. If you're lucky, he'll let you in."

But before Blaine could reply, the door burst open to reveal a tired looking Kurt, smiling warily as he set his briefcase on the table, making apologies for his tardiness.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Kurt said as he removed his jacket. "There was an emergency at the hospital this morning."

Only Quinn and Blaine noticed the hint of sadness in Kurt's voice as he took a seat at the end of the broad table.

"Todd, do you want to start us off?" Kurt questioned, turning his body to Todd, and effectively filling the room with a no-nonsense air, tensed and relaxed almost at the same time.

When the meeting concluded, Blaine trailed right behind Quinn, who stopped by Kurt's side as everybody filed out of the room.

"You okay?" she asked, her voice gentle and motherly.

Kurt offered her a tired, sad smile. "Yeah. Just a rough start to the week."

She rubbed his arm sympathetically. "What was the emergency?"

"A patient of mine died today," he said as he gathered his things. "Her immune system was too compromised from the chemo. Arrested early this morning."

Blaine pursed his lips and watched Kurt from where he stood behind Quinn.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. But don't lose hope," he heard Quinn say to Kurt. "Soon enough, you won't be running to emergencies of that nature because you've figured out how to stop them from happening. Hang in there."

Kurt smiled appreciatively, before he looked past Quinn and met Blaine's compassionate, concerned eyes.

"Blaine," Kurt greeted, his intonation upturned in the end.

"Hi, Kurt," he answered dumbly, knowing it was probably stupid to greet him a good morning when it obviously wasn't. He mentally debated if he should offer his condolences, but before he could add anything else to the statement, Kurt was already turning to leave.

The three had started to walk out of the boardroom and to the elevators when Kurt addressed Blaine again.

"I trust your first week went by smoothly?" Kurt asked. "It's not very difficult to adjust to the set-up around here."

"Oh, everything's great," Blaine replied, flashing him a reassuring grin. "Everything's great, thank you," he repeated.

Kurt nodded in approval. "Good," he said, pleased, before he turned his attention to the elevators as they opened and allowed them to step in.

"Are you going to Lima for the weekend?" Quinn asked, looking directly at Kurt.

He shrugged. "I haven't decided yet, actually. I may or may not."

Blaine felt just a little awkward being alone with Quinn and Kurt. Quinn was trying desperately to be warm and gentle while Kurt was just simply not reciprocating of the caring attitude. He wondered, though, what could possibly be in Lima that weekend that made Quinn's questioning sound too gentle, too sad.

But Quinn nodded in understanding, standing on her tiptoes to kiss Kurt's cheek lightly, a gesture that made Kurt stiffen, but relax and smile after a second. "Well, if you're not going to Lima, my couch is open for visitors. I got a couple of bottles of beer in the fridge and a DVD of The Sound of Music. We can call Rachel and make a night out of it."

"Thank you, Quinn" Kurt replied, smiling slightly as he stepped off the elevator and walked briskly to his office, leaving Quinn and Blaine in his wake without another word to either of them.

The two remained standing by the elevator, watching Kurt's retreating figure. And then without turning to look at Blaine, Quinn said, "His coffee order's a non-fat mocha in the mornings. But on days that he needs a little more comfort, he likes a sinful serving of hot chocolate with just a hint of cinnamon and a dollop of whipped cream on top." And when she finally turned to see Blaine's bewildered expression, she smiled sweetly. "You seem different than most, Blaine. Good luck."

And may the odds be ever in your favor, Blaine thought of adding offhandedly, thinking it would've have been a perfect ending to the conversation. But before he could joke about it, Quinn had already turned away to make her way to her office, leaving Blaine just a little too confused about the information she had handed over to him.

For the rest of the day, Blaine tried to bury his nose underneath piles of research to keep his head off of Kurt. It was silly. He couldn't comprehend the way he seemed drawn to the man. He couldn't explain it. Logically he knew that things like love at first sight didn't exist. He was a doctor, after all—a scientist governed by the laws of the universe, governed by logic and physics and equations. His emotions were always a separate entity from his science, only mingling when he was dealing with patients. But now, he couldn't quite grasp whatever it was he was experiencing.

For some unknown reason, there was a magnetic pull drawing him closer to Kurt, urging him to stare deep into his eyes and unravel the mystery shrouding him. He recognized off the bat the potential to fall in love with him, that even without his slowly evolving obsession, he knew he could fall hopelessly in love with the man. It was strange, surreal and unexpected. Yes, he was looking for a relationship, but he wasn't expecting to find it here, at this point in time, in his career—especially not in the form of a doctor bordering on robotic.

Not that a relationship was guaranteed, really. That would be counting his eggs before they hatched. He'd have to earn Kurt Hummel's trust before he thought too deeply of his growing emotions. And that in itself was difficult.

It was with that thought that Blaine decided he'd take a chance. Quinn hadn't whispered Kurt's coffee order for nothing. It was a proverbial push in the right direction because for some inane reason, she saw Blaine's potential to make Kurt happy. She recognized the glint in his eye, a flicker of determination just like Kurt's, but warmer and more inviting.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized how perfect they were for each other. He may not have known Kurt well, but he knew enough to compare them. They were alike in so many aspects—in their goals, in their genuine care for patients, in their love for music, and in their ability to remain strong and resilient despite the crap the world threw at them. But they were opposites too, and Blaine knew he could smooth out the creases in Kurt's personality, complementing them as he knew Kurt would for him.

For instance, where Blaine was kind and friendly, Kurt was cold and cordial. Where Blaine preferred the intimate company of friends, Kurt preferred silence, being left alone in a corner with nobody noticing. Where Blaine craved for human affection, for touch and emotion, Kurt was entirely detached and stiff, unwilling to open up. And where Blaine held out hope for the rest of the world, Kurt remained a cynic, choosing only to hope in what he strongly believed in.

Glancing at the clock hanging on the wall, Blaine decided he'd grab Kurt a cup of coffee and return to the office in time to see the rest of the building's occupants leave, calling it a day. He would walk to the laboratories where he knew Kurt would be, laboring over a new leg of the research just when everybody was gone, to be alone. He'd offer him the cup of coffee, and hope against hope that he wouldn't be so opposed to engaging in mindless chatter with him.

And that was how it went. At quarter to four, Blaine stepped out of the building and walked to the coffee shop, ordering Kurt's nonfat mocha. He decided Kurt didn't need the hot chocolate just yet—maybe somewhere in the future when he'd gotten to know him more. For now, the coffee would suffice. With a charming smile to the coffee girl, he left the shop, strode back to the building and rode the elevator, stepping off at the correct floor.

He only barely caught Quinn as she was leaving, holding out the two cups of coffee to show her.

Quinn smiled in delight. "Good luck," she whispered in approval. "He's working on some karyotypes right now."

Blaine nodded, flashing her a nervous smile before he set out to the labs. Good, he thought. Karyotypes were dry laboratory activities, which meant he could take the coffee inside and offer it innocuously to Kurt. He wasn't sure what his excuse was for staying in late. Kurt would surely give him a signature brow raised in suspicion.

But deciding he'd go with whatever happened, he pushed the door open with the back of his shoulder, making sure to keep his hands upright as they held the coffee cups.

Kurt was sitting on a high stool, the karyotypes spread before him on a table well lighted by a bunch of bulbs underneath it. He looked up just as Blaine cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly.

"Hey, Kurt," he greeted, cursing his voice for sounding higher pitched than normal.

Obviously, Kurt wasn't expecting anyone to be joining him, but he masked his surprise well. "Blaine," he said dryly. "You're working late today."

Blaine nodded at the observation, making his way to the stool adjacent Kurt, setting the coffee down in front of him. Kurt eyed it suspiciously, but Blaine ignored it and said "Yeah, I wanted to see if I could help you out on the karyotypes. You know... As part of my fellowship requirements."

Kurt did his signature brow raise before narrowing his eyes. "And you brought coffee," he stated.

"I did," Blaine grinned. "I did bring coffee."

Kurt would by lying if he said he wasn't touched by the gesture, but he was also taken aback and very, very suspicious. Kurt may not have known what was going on in Blaine's head, or his intentions, but for himself, he knew what Blaine was. Blaine was the man he seemingly could not stop thinking about lest he buried himself in work. Thinking about Blaine made him entirely unproductive, and he'd been avoiding any real contact with him since he started working with them. Top that with the crappy way with which he started his morning, and he was in a sour mood, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

"Hmm," Kurt hummed, regarding the cup of coffee.

"It's just coffee, Kurt. I figured you'd need it since you tend to work so late in the night," Blaine said, sensing Kurt's apprehension. The tension was palpable, and he could almost feel the way Kurt was building up walls around him.

There was a pause before Kurt nodded, smiling crookedly at Blaine. "Thank you," he said curtly, before bowing his head to turn his attention back to the karyotype.

Blaine bit his lip as he shifted in his seat, studying Kurt's head of brown hair with a contemplative look. So. Now what? With a sigh, Blaine tentatively reached for a karyotype and brought it before him, his eyes scanning the shapes.

"Do you work late often?" Blaine asked casually, praying that Kurt would latch on to his proverbial extended hand.

Kurt looked up, mildly annoyed, meeting Blaine's questioning gaze. "Yes," he answered, before turning back to his work.

But Blaine refused to be fazed. "On karyotypes or just work in general? I know there are a ton of sequences you go through everyday."

Biting his lip to keep from lashing out, Kurt took a deep, calming breath and looked up, smiling sweetly at Blaine. "I function best at night," Kurt answered, his voice stoic despite the saccharine smile on his face.

Blaine had to bite his lip to keep from giggling. Kurt's demeanor was dripping with irony and sarcasm, and Blaine wouldn't deny that it fueled him, turned him on, actually. He found it amusing and endearing, realizing that getting on Kurt's nerves would be a good way to work him up and show a little more emotion.

"Oh, so do I," Blaine said after a moment, ignoring the exasperated sigh he thought he heard Kurt expel. "There's something relaxing about working late into the night, with only empty coffee cups and the sound of crickets keeping you company."

"Yes," Kurt replied dryly, fighting to stay polite. Blaine was getting on his nerves with his dashing dapper conversation and his mildly annoying attempts at getting Kurt to speak. Could the insufferable man not take a hint?

Laughing lightly, Blaine continued. "Although I must say I can't do that every night, not in the way you do. You're very... Dedicated."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt looked up again and smiled wordlessly before he decided he'd ignore Blaine Anderson. There was a reason he preferred to work at night—it was so no one would bother him, or pester him with nonsensical chatter and awkward conversations. Really, he was doing everyone a favor by doing his work independently, sparing them from the decorous urge to make small talk. He didn't need that. He didn't need the polite attempts or the distraction. He needed silence and concentration.

When Kurt didn't say anything, Blaine bit his inner cheeks, deciding he'd barrel his way through anyway. "I admire it, actually," Blaine said, trying a different tactic. "You seem very focused and committed. And your hard work always seems to pay off—you advances are phenomenal and—"

Kurt groaned, slapping his hands on the table top. "If this is your way of making small talk, Dr. Anderson, I'll have you know that I do not appreciate it," he said evenly, checking so that his tone remained so. "There's a reason I cloister up in here after everyone's left. I like to work in peace. So if there's something that you need from me, please, just spit it out now so I can go back to what I was doing and you could leave and save both of us from any more awkward situations."

The irritation seeped through in the way Kurt spoke, glaring slightly at Blaine who was taken aback by Kurt's outburst. So shocked was he that he unceremoniously blurted "Go on a date with me," before blushing as he realized what he had just said. But he wouldn't take it back, not by a long shot. True he could have said it a bit more smoothly, but it was out there. Go on a date with me.

Kurt for the most part was shocked—and appropriately so. His jaw fell slightly, his brows shooting him. That was entirely unexpected, and he had to remind himself to breathe. What the actual fuck?

Just. What?

When the surprise wore off enough to make Kurt react, he furrowed his brow and whispered harshly. "What?"

"You heard me. Go on a date with me," Blaine said, more energized and encouraged even as his heart beat erratically in his chest.

"Wh- what is wrong with you?" Kurt asked, his voice back. "You know nothing about me and yet you're asking me out on date."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "That's usually why people go out on dates—to get to know each other," he said, then he thoughtfully added, "And I do want to get to know you."

"Dr. Anderson, you're delusional if you believe I'm going out on a date with you, or anyone else for that matter," because no. Just. No. He was entirely blindsided by the fact that Blaine actually wanted to get to know him. Kurt hadn't been avoiding him for nothing. He didn't want distractions and he sure as hell didn't need it in the form of Blaine Anderson audaciously asking him out on a date. He would admit that it was brave of Blaine to do so, but the fact of the matter was that he didn't understand Kurt's principles—one of them being that every relationship would be detrimental to him and his progress.

"Why not?" Blaine challenged, not backing down. Kurt had regained his footing after being blindsided, but it didn't mean he couldn't corner him and get him to agree. Kurt may be stubborn, but he certainly wasn't the only one.

"I'm not interested," Kurt said, though he knew it was a lie. He was. He was definitely interested in Blaine Anderson. "And I'm not looking for a relationship."

"It's just a date, Kurt. We're not going to get married."

"Yes, well," Kurt blushed, a little flustered. "You don't strike me as the one night stand, no strings attached kind of guy, so no."

"But—"

"No, Blaine. I'm not going out on a date with you. I appreciate the offer, but you know me well enough to know that my life revolves around this office, this project. No one has ever been able to steer me clear of my ambitions, and you most certainly will not be that man."

There was a sense of finality in Kurt's voice, something that told Blaine not to push it—not tonight at least. He'd had a bad day, and he sounded tired, and maybe even defeated. Blaine would step back for now, but not forever.

There was a long pause before Kurt sighed, pursing his lips and rubbing his eyes. "Now, if that was all you came to ask," Kurt said, his tone formal, "you may go. Thank you for the coffee."

Blaine stared, frowning a little before he, too, sighed and stood up, grabbing his own coffee cup. "Fine. But this isn't over, Kurt," he said, offering him a small smile before turning to leave.

It was then than Kurt decided that Blaine was fucking insane. He was suicidal, even. No one had ever had the guts to ask Kurt out, at least not any of his colleagues. They all knew Kurt's opinion of relationships—they're hard work, taking great amounts of effort to keep afloat—effort that he could channel to do something more productive.

Glaring at the coffee cup, Kurt mentally cursed himself and Blaine. This was not how things were supposed to go. Having a relationship with someone, let alone someone he worked with— let alone someone he had only just met— was entirely out of the question. The fact that Blaine was remotely interested in him didn't help the attraction he himself was feeling, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. It wasn't that he was terrified of getting hurt. He was simply programmed not to believe in anything but his science, and maybe his father's love for him, and his immense love for his mother. Anything outside of that, anything implying that he should believe in things too intangible for science to prove, had rang the alarms in his head.

But Blaine Anderson, who had the nerve to bring him coffee and ask him out on a date—he was slowly inching his way within his personal space without even trying. For even if he didn't ask him out, even if he wasn't interested in him, Blaine was everywhere, saturating his head in ways he stubbornly didn't want to entertain. And he couldn't let that happen. He couldn't.

More than his pride, more than his compulsive need to keep his guard up the whole time, Kurt wasn't willing to commit, wasn't willing to hurt anyone based solely on his inability to feel. It was like being in the military his whole life, essentially forgetting how to be human entirely in a way that was detrimental to the people around him. He couldn't just unlearn the way he had lived his entire life, and he wasn't sure he could learn new things and incorporate new, foreign concepts in his life, especially when he wasn't ready to.

And the more he thought about it, the more he realized how detached he was from reality, and how lonely he was in whatever limbo he'd subjected himself to. But he wasn't about to throw himself over the first man who was brave enough to ask him out.

With a sigh, Kurt decided he wouldn't be able to get work done tonight, too bothered by the turn of events to concentrate. He stood up, picked up the coffee and made his way back to his office. He tentatively took a sip of the liquid, smiling sadly when the familiar taste of his favorite nonfat mocha filled his senses, dismissing the quiet burst of bittersweet emotion in his heart at the idea of Blaine knowing his coffee order.

He couldn't do this.

He wouldn't.

On his way out of his office, after collecting his things and turning the lights off, he threw the coffee cup still filled to the brim into the trash bin, deciding that right now, it wasn't worth it.


So what do you guys think? Let me know! Thank you for reading!