So, thank you all for sticking with this even though this chapter seemed to take forever to write! I knew what I wanted to happen, but none of it quite went the way it was planned and this insanely long chapter was the result. Originally, this chapter was supposed to continue for at least another scene, but I decided to leave it here when... well, you'll see... Just letting you know that the end totally came out of a jumping plot bunny and it was not planned. I do love it when my characters decide what they're doing on their own. :D See you at the end!


Chapter Six: New York

'Okay, everyone. I know tomorrow's Sunday, and you'll be glad to know that we've scheduled it as a day off. So if anyone's new to the powers of New York, feel free to have a bit of a look-see.' Marcus stood in front of the table, hands held aloft, and even if Kurt wasn't very fond of him, he could see why he was an effective organizer. 'And I want to see you all back here on Monday, bright and early, especially those of you in the back who we want to see again. And Blaine,' he said, turning to the man beside Kurt, who let his eyes open lazily in response. 'I want you here on time, okay?'

Blaine just nodded.

Kurt bit his lip, considering how to start this conversation. Learning that Blaine had asked for their break to consider moving to New York had thrown him. It meant that every piece of evidence that he'd stacked in his argument against the man - when he was barely old enough to be considered one - was suddenly irrelevant and was being thrown out of the court room.

'Blaine, um,' he said, turning in his seat to grab his messenger bag. Let's make this look as casual as possible. 'What are you planning for tomorrow?'

Blaine's head swiveled to catch his eye, and the sleepy look was gone. 'I- I was just planning on staying in my hotel and-'

'Great. Because I should show you the city.' Kurt rushed to get the words out before they failed him altogether. 'You haven't been here since spring break in our Freshman year at college, I presume, and its changed a lot. I can show you the town.'

Blaine nodded thoughtfully as he picked up his own bag and swung it over his shoulder. 'That would be great.' He eyed Kurt cautiously. 'But what about Ethan?'

Kurt flicked his hand at Blaine in what he hoped would be considered a nonchalant move. 'Ethan works Sundays. He's gotta find some way to pay our grocery bills on his intern salary.' They both ignored the fact that they knew the man would not be happy with their New York tour plans.

The older man let a laugh escape his lips, barely loud enough that Kurt could hear it. But it was there, and it seemed almost normal, and he relished it for all it was worth.

'Here's my cell number,' he said, scribbling the digits down on a notepad that sat on the desk. 'Call me when you're ready to meet me. Central park, okay? And don't forget to give me time to get ready!'

And then Kurt was sliding out of his chair and walking away, holding his breath until he was out of earshot of the older man. Well, this can only end in disaster.


As Blaine sat down on the park bench, he couldn't help but feel obvious. He was wearing a suit, with the cuffs rolled up and the tie hanging loose, because Kurt had told him to wear something nice. He was sure it was too much, but when he packed for the trip, he'd only managed to cover the two extremes: work and sleep.

The wind was rustling the leaves of the trees above him and the dappled sunlight that peeked through warmed his skin. He had to admit that he liked New York. He always had, in a way. If there was anywhere on the continent that he could go for a holiday, given the choice, it would be a hard toss up between Montreal and New York. And maybe throw Chicago in there, just because.

'Blaine!' he heard Kurt's voice call, and he turned his head at the sound. The man was wearing silver dress pants that matched elegantly the jacket draped over his arm.

'How long have you been waiting? I told you to give me time to get ready!'

Blaine shrugged. 'I didn't mind. It was peaceful.'

Kurt shot him a look. 'Was?' But there was a laugh burbling in the back of his throat and he motioned with his hand for Blaine to join him. 'Come on. We have places to be.'

Blaine stood up, lifting his messenger bag over his shoulder and gripping the strap tightly. The skin on his knuckles was almost a pale translucent white and his breath was tight in his throat, but Kurt was just ahead of him and his walk seemed calm and collected. Blaine wished he could be calm and collected.

'So, I know you've been to the theatres and everything,' the younger man said, glancing back over his shoulder. 'But I was thinking we could go to the more cultural side of New York, you know? I want to show you the New York that only locals get to see.'

He smiled back to Blaine, and he couldn't help but stare as the sun caught Kurt's hair, making the perfectly styled spikes glow. But he was already facing forward again, and the look went unnoticed. Blaine sighed a small sound of relief.

'Where are we going?' he asked, quickening his step slightly to catch up to Kurt. Their footfalls echoed in time, and it reminded Blaine of the way they would walk through McKinley High, hand in hand on their way to classes. His fingers curled in upon themselves and his hand tightened into a fist absently.

'We're catching a cab.'

Blaine frowned. 'Doesn't that cost money? I mean, couldn't we have just met wherever we're going?'

Kurt just glanced at him, eyebrows raised as if to say, don't you trust me? 'Central Park is the only real place to meet in New York. And anyway, you haven't lived until you've travelled in a New York cab. This is all part of the experience.'

'Do you do this often?' the older man asked as they reached the edge of the park. Kurt held out his hand for a taxi, and the golden car slid to a stop at the curb.

'I have only one thing to say. Don't close your door until we've checked that the seatbelts work.'

'Huh?' Blaine asked, but Kurt was already sliding into the car and into the opposite seat so he could slide in. He obediently left the door open and pulled the seatbelt closed. It clicked home snugly.

'You can close the door now, Blaine,' Kurt said as he turned to the driver. 'Sarengetti's. You know the one, right? The little pizza shop.' The driver nodded, and on the rather vague instructions, slid out into the middle lane and was off.

'Sarengetti's?'

Kurt nodded. 'You haven't had pizza until you've had Sarengetti's. He makes authentic Italian pizza. Woodfire oven, and all that jazz. I don't think I've taken anyone there who hasn't enjoyed it.'

He had placed his bag at his feet and suddenly he was rummaging through it. He brought out a packet of jellybeans and held them out for Blaine. 'Jellybean?'

Blaine raised his eyebrows, but took one with a slow hesitant hand. 'Should I be asking why you have jellybeans?' Kurt glanced at the partition between them and the driver pointedly, then leaned across to whisper, 'It's tradition.'

'What is?' Blaine asked.

Kurt sighed, as if he shouldn't have to explain it. 'Leaving a jellybean on the floor of the cab. The very first time I rode in a New York cab, my roommate spilled a packet of jellybeans on the floor. And every time since, I've had to bring jellybeans. I only leave one, but I'm hoping one day, I'll enter a cab and they'll be a jellybean on the floor.' He grinned. 'It's kind of stupid, I know, but I haven't done anything different, and just because you're here doesn't mean you can change the laws of my universe.'

Blaine bit his lip, mulling that over, and an awkward silence suddenly spread before them. Kurt had said those words before. In rather a different context, of course, but about Blaine nonetheless. You came into my small little existence, and you changed the laws of my universe.

'Well,' Kurt said quickly, grabbing his bag and lifting it onto his knee, the short silence suddenly broken. 'We're almost there.' The cab was slowing, and pulled to a stop outside what looked like a seedy bar and restaurant. 'Trust me,' he said, motioning for Blaine to open the door and climb out. 'It's not as bad as it looks.'

But Blaine wasn't sure if he could trust him on that one. The exterior of the restaurant was a blistering facade, the fabric awning peeling away at the edges and the brick cracking gently around the single glass door and window. 'I feel like I'm entering a 50's gay bar.'

Kurt laughed, pushing open the glass door. 'If it was a gay bar in the 50s, you wouldn't be entering with anyone else, or during the day. There's that small risk that you may be arrested.'

Blaine rolled his eyes. 'Just that small risk?'

Stepping into Sarengetti's was like stepping into a little slice of Italy, and the warmth was the first thing that hit him. Outside, the autumn chill was just starting to slide into the atmosphere, but in the restaurant, it was a sauna. Behind the formica counter, he could see the wood-fire ovens Kurt had been talking about, and the flames that blazed at the back of them crackled in Blaine's vision.

'Hey, Hummel,' a deep baritone called, stepping up to the counter. 'Brought a friend?'

Kurt nodded. 'Joe, this is Blaine. Blaine Anderson. We went to high school together.'

The portly man gave Blaine a nod, and he returned it. 'What is it for you boys today?' Joe asked, leaning against the counter.

'Give us your specialty, Joe,' Kurt said. 'I'm introducing Blaine to New York, and that's the best way, don't you think?' The man nodded and Kurt smiled. 'We'll be down the back?'

'Sure thing, Hummel.'

And Kurt was grabbing Blaine by the arm and leading him down towards the back of the restaurant to the dining room. The seats were virtually empty, only a few patrons littered about the room. Kurt motioned to a table against one wall, and they both sat down.

'This place seems a little...' Blaine paused, considering the word. 'I don't know... deserted?'

Kurt nodded. 'That's part of Sarengetti's charm. Very few people know the place, and those who do keep it to themselves. Cabbies, I find, know about Sarengetti, but I've heard he was a cabby once, so that could explain it.'

'How does the business survive?'

'One part good service, one part amazing pizza, and one part generous tips. And trust me, once you've eaten Joe's pizza, you'll understand why he gets generous tips.'

Kurt was sitting up in his chair and he's hands were clasped together on the table, almost bouncing with what seemed to be excitement. 'Today is going to be a big day,' he said, grinning.

'What have you planned?'

'You'll just have to see.' His smile was infectious, and Blaine couldn't help but grin back as Joe Sarengetti carried a wooden board laden with pizza to their table.

'Feast for my boys?' he smiled as he placed the board down. Kurt thanked him and passed him a fifty before he turned and left with a thankful nod.

'A fifty?' Blaine whispered. 'Pizzas are not worth fifty bucks!'

Kurt just shook his head. 'Try it.'

Blaine reached for a slice, the cheese oozing of the side and the small amount of topping glistening through it. He took a bite and almost stopped dead. 'Oh my God,' he breathed. 'It's amazing!'

'I told you so.' Kurt's smile was smug.

'Wow.' Blaine took another bite and through his mouthful he muttered, half to himself and half to the man opposite him, 'Much better than Breadstix.'

There was a moment of pause, the awkward tension of bringing up the past. But then Kurt was laughing and their conversation fell into a comfortable rhythm of pizza and the past.


'A blazer shop? Seriously? They have something like this?' Blaine's eyes were wide as he scanned the store. From the roof hung hundreds upon hundreds of different designs of blazers.

'They make to order too, I discovered, after I walked in here by accident.' Kurt was leaning against the counter, watching as Blaine ducked between the racks and hanging jackets in wonder. 'I couldn't stop laughing. I could just imagining Wes and David in here.'

'They would die,' Blaine agreed, pulling at one of the jackets to see the one behind it. 'Hey! Change the piping on this one, add the logo and you've got Dalton all over!' He pulled the blazer off its hanger and shrugged it on. 'Right size and everything.' He spun, locating the mirror on the opposite wall and turned side to side, admiring himself. 'I feel seventeen again.'

He glanced at Kurt, but the younger boy was deep in thought. 'Hey,' he called. 'Kurt?'

'Huh? Oh, sorry. Yeah, it looks great on you.' He smiled, sliding down off the counter to walk across to Blaine. He placed his hands on the older boys shoulders, smoothing out the light creases that had formed in the collar. 'They always did.'

Blaine smiled, and he wished he could forget the feeling of Kurt's hands on his skin - even if it was through two layers of fabric - and how much he longed to have them stay there. It concerned him, how much just this simple touch could make him feel. It's casual, Blaine. Be happy that he even offered to take you out today. Friends. Friends is where you're at.

In the mirror he watched as Kurt frowned slightly and removed his hands, smoothing down his own shirt and stepping away from Blaine. 'Come on. We've got to get going if we're going to make it to everywhere I've planned today. I can see you wanting to stay at the next store for hours.'

And the moment was broken, and Blaine wasn't sure if he should be sad. All he knew that he felt was deflated.


The store was filled with row upon row of records, so long that they seemed to fall away into the distance. Coming to stand beside Blaine, Kurt motioned to the counter, about half way down the store.

'If you want to find anything, ask. The organizing system here is insane, but in my opinion,' he said with a grin, 'it's best to just wander. Something will turn up that will draw your eye.'

Blaine nodded and slipped away, running his hands along the smooth wood of the racks. He hadn't seen so many vinyls in one place in his life. Sure, his parents had a decent collection, and Dalton was old enough to still have some stacked in the back of the library. But this, this was like a musicians heaven.

He paused before a stack of records and flipped through them, glancing at the array of music sitting just in front of him. In the one pile there was a mix of barber shop, hip hop and eighties rock. 'How is this store organised?' Blaine asked, turning to Kurt.

'I have no idea. There's no computers, just an electronic register. And there's no kind of system. But if you ask Emil behind the counter, he knows where every album is. Someday, I'm going to crack his code.' Kurt grinned. 'My only problem is that I have a feeling there is no code. I think he just has one insane memory.'

He stood beside Blaine, glancing through a different pile of vinyls. 'Oh my God.'

'What?' The older boy pressed closer to him to see what he was looking at.

'Katy Perry.'

'Huh?'

Kurt pulled the record out of the stack and passed it to Blaine. Teenage Dream. 'You know what this means, right?'

We were always meant to be together? 'No, what?'

'You have to sing!' He grabbed the album back from Blaine and ran to the counter. 'Hey, Emil, can you play the first track on this for us?'

The skinny man behind the counter nodded and took the record, sliding it on to the player.

The opening chords played out and Blaine almost sighed at the memory.

'Come on,' Kurt called, laughing. He grabbed Blaine's hand and tugged him towards the center of the store. It was a Sunday, and the store was nowhere near deserted, but he was dancing to the classic Warbler two-step, and Blaine couldn't help but smile and join in.

'You think I'm pretty without any make up on

You think I'm funny when I tell the punch line wrong

I know you get me, so I let my walls-

Kurt! I can't sing it in this key!'

'Sure you can't!' Kurt laughed, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him as they danced. 'You're Blaine Warbler Anderson. You can sing anything.'

Blaine laughed and continued, 'You brought me to life

Now every february, you'll be my valentine, Valentine...

That was the stupidest thing I ever did!' Emil had turned up the music, and Blaine yelled to be heard over the sound of Katy Perry's much more talented voice.

'What?' Kurt called back.

'Convincing everyone to perform at the Gap for Jeremiah! I knew I didn't like him. Not really.'

They were still dancing to the beat, but now they were slowing down and the step was becoming more of a sway.

'You knew?'

Blaine shook his head. 'Not that I loved you. Not at that point. But I did.' He paused, biting his lip. 'I do.'

'No, you don't.' Kurt shook his head. 'You can't still love me. You must hate me. I-' The younger man ran a hand through his hair and glanced at Blaine, his eyes screaming desperately that he wanted to back away, run, turn back time and not pick up the damn Katy Perry album that started the whole conversation. 'I treated you like shit, Blaine.'

'I know.' He reached out, trying to lay a hand on Kurt's shoulder but he was pulling away. 'But I never stopped loving you, Kurt. I couldn't. I just waited until the day when I would see you again, and I could beg my case, and I'm praying that you won't leave again, won't push me away.'

The music was coming to a close and they were standing still now, staring at each other. 'I don't want to lose you again.'

'I- I can't- Ethan-'

'Stuff Ethan. You know you're only dating him because he looks like me.'

A flash of hurt passed through Kurt's eyes and Blaine shook his head quickly. 'No, no, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sure he's a great guy, and you deserve someone great but...' He bit down on his lip. 'Shit, I'm doing this all wrong aren't I?'

'Yes.' Kurt's voice was small.

'I just- Kurt, I love you. And I can't change that. Please, give me another chance.'

'I don't believe you.'

'That I love you? Of course I love you. You're amazing, and talented, and gorgeous, and the only guy I've ever really met who took my world, held it upside down and shook it. I've known I've loved you since the day you sang Blackbird. I've loved you much longer than that.'

Kurt's lips were a thin line. 'Prove it.'

'What do you mean?'

'Kiss me. Here. Now. If the fireworks are still there, I might believe-'

But Blaine didn't have to be asked twice. His hands reached for Kurt's hips, pulling him closer, and his lips were pressing against the younger man's. The smooth feel of Kurt's lips was exactly as Blaine remembered, and he kissed him harder, tightening his arms around his back and gently biting down on his bottom lip. His mouth opened and Blaine took the opportunity to slip his tongue into Kurt's mouth, tasting that familiar taste that he hadn't been able to experience for four years.

'Blaine,' Kurt murmured through the kiss, placing his hands on the older man's chest and pressing gently to separate them. 'I- that was- I don't know how to-'

'Don't say anything,' Blaine said quickly. 'Let's just go.' He glanced around the room to see Emil and a small crowd of other shoppers clapping. He gripped Kurt's hand and their fingers slid together with a simple ease. 'Take me to our next destination. We can talk there.'

Kurt nodded and led him out of the store, the colour in his cheeks flaming an angry red.


So, opinions? I definitely did not plan to have them kiss in this scene. But it just kind of happened, and I rolled with it. It works, I think. :) I hope you enjoyed this incredibly long (for me) chapter, and I'm sorry, but the next one will probably be nowhere near as long. I'm planning on going to go back to the blaine-kurt-blaine-kurt format. It was just hard with this one, when everything was very Blaine centric. I kind of needed to stay in Blaine's head :). See you all next chapter! Hopefully it won't be too long!

xxx Wynnie