The days carried on slowly as ever. Kurt would drag himself out of bed, get ready and drive to the studio, emptiness spreading in his sore body and he wondered for how much longer he could do this. It wasn't like it wasn't fun or the people weren't nice. In fact, some of his closer friends worked with him as well. Yet he couldn't suppress the sinking feeling in his stomach every time he met another man he'd have a scene with.

He bit his lip and shook his head softly when he left again. He might feel satisfied but he knew that it wasn't enough. It was meaningless, cold and not what he was longing for at all.

The young man sighed deeply when he walked into the coffee shop and Blaine was carrying around a tablet with drinks and cupcakes. He smiled, bright and toothy as always, and he could swear it grew even wider, stretching his lips impossibly wide when he saw him. He nodded in his direction lightly and Kurt's eyes flickered down quickly, trying to avoid looking into his smooth, golden eyes. He had kind eyes, sparkling and wide and bright with a hint of green in them, changing colour as the day went on. Not that Kurt had stared or maybe he had. He couldn't help it. Blaine was handsome. The typical, dapper, 60's gentleman, like an old Hollywood movie star, probably one of the last men of his kind.
Kurt mentally punched himself for being so invested in the way he looked and the way he'd peak over his magazines every now and then to watch him interact with people. Blaine's voice was low and gentle, smooth yet raspy and his laugh was sincere just like the look in his face whenever he thanked someone for a tip.

'Get it together, Hummel.' He mumbled under his breath as he sat down in his usual seat.

It wasn't long until Blaine walked over to him to take his order and Kurt was just about to utter his order when the other man cut in, in a sickenly polite way. Typical.
"I take you want the 'usual', Sir?" He asked with a wide grin and god, those teeth. He could easily be in one of those over the top commercials though there wouldn't be the need to photoshop his teeth so they were pearly white.

'Unfair!'

"And now you just make me feel old...how old do you think I am?" Kurt asked, his voice a bit snarly and he saw Blaine's eyebrows furrow a bit before he smiled a little more subdued.

"Well... it's hard to tell because you always look kinda grumpy. It gives you crowfeet, did you know that?" The curly haired man asked and Kurt couldn't help the faint smile that appeared on his face.

"Do you think I read those magazines for nothing?" He asked teasingly and shook his head at Blaine playfully with a grin.

"There you go..." Blaine breathed and let out a small laugh.

"Oh... well." Kurt mumbled and looked away again.

"I thought you wanted to know how old I think you are?" The waiter asked and tapped his feet a little, still holding the tablet and a little notebook in his other hand along with a pen.

"I guess... but I'm sure it'll be offending."

"Twenty-one."

"Now you're just flattering me."

"Twenty-nine."

"Wow." Kurt raised his plucked eyebrows at him with a judging look. His 'bitchface', as Rachel and Mercedes had called it.

"Okay, okay..." Blaine chuckled nervously and somehow Kurt found it kinda precious but quickly shoved this thought away again.

"Twenty- ..."

"Twenty-three." Kurt said quickly. "I-I'm twenty-three." He whispered and looked up at the other man for a split second.

Blaine laughed lightly and nodded. "That was my next guess." He smiled and Kurt bit his lip.

"How... - How old are you... Blaine?" He asked.
Oh, to hell with it.
Blaine was nice. Absolutely polite and quite sweet actually so Kurt had no reason whatsoever not to talk to him, right?

"Twenty-two." He said simply, shifting the tablet so it was more comfortable to carry, the muscles in his arms flexed and Kurt looked absently at the strong biceps moving under nicely tanned, smooth, olive skin. He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows.

"So shocking?" The low voice of the younger man woke him from his wandering thoughts and he shook his head frantically.

"No - not at all. I just thought you were... well... older? I don't know. Doesn't matter so... coffee?" He tried to distract Blaine again and he apparently got the hint and grinned, nodding.

"Sure, yes... because that's - why you're here... right. So... one Grande Non-Fat Mocha. I'll be back." Blaine said awkwardly and walked off, turning one last time but quickly getting to the counter again to set down the tablet and give up the order before returning with the hot drink.

"Thanks." Kurt muttered and Blaine whispered a quick "You're welcome."

He walked off, turning halfway on his heels, facing the glasz-eyed man again who looked up a bit confused.

"Twenty-three, huh?"

Kurt nodded weakly and Blaine grinned, walking off.

The young man tried to focus on his magazine again, looking at the models and the way the brand-new spring collections fluttered around their skinny, long bodies, trying desperately to teleport himself into that other world like he always did. Where he could be himself and not just another warm body. A creator rather than a performer and being the one in charge and not the one having to submit anymore. It was his sweet escape from reality, the bills, and the emptiness of his apartment.

And somehow he had to admit that he wanted Blaine to talk to him again. He wondered why he was being so cold to him, snappy. It wasn't him. Sure, he couldn't deny that he was kind of a diva but Blaine had been nothing but nice to him, not at all judging him when he sat there in his tight grey shirt and his dark skinny jeans with knee-high boots and a bowtie tied around his neck and a black wool-cardigan completing his outfit, matching the ones on the cover of his newest issue of 'Vogue'.

Sometimes he wondered what Blaine dressed like. If he wore T-shirts and jeans or button-ups with slim-fitted ones. He wondered what was behind his smile and work-clothes, what kind of music he liked and if he was happy. If he had a lot of friends and if his family was nice and - he knew he should stop being so interested. He couldn't let him fall and especially not like that.
Feelings made things uncomfortable, weird, tainting relationships like ink on plain, white paper when Kurt's pen would leak again, leaving dark smears of black on his sketches, making him sigh with annoyance and rumple the paper.
He had learned those things the hard way and he wasn't exactly eager to let them happen again.

It was stupid anyway. It wasn't like he knew if Blaine was even interested, at least not in that way. Maybe he wasn't even gay, or bi, or attracted to him. Maybe he was just being his charming, kind self and he didn't even realize he was flirting or making his chest flutter with the way he looked at him.

Kurt nibbled on the inside of his cheek and flicked to the next side, closing his eyes for a second when his mind drifted off to his other life again.

His perfect life in which he would just ask Blaine to sit with him, talk to him, just getting to know him but he couldn't let himself. It wasn't like the other man would want him anyways Especially not when he learned more about him. That there was more to his soft features and innocent voice. His tired, blue eyes and his 'grumpy' expression.

No. Blaine would never know because Kurt wouldn't let him. He would do what he did best. What he had been doing all his life. He'd close up and hide in the comfort of sarcasm, letting his walls build up higher and blocking him. Trying to protect himself because he had failed at it before and Kurt knew he needed to make this right to be safe and strong.
And most importantly he had to make sure that Blaine would be safe as well.