Giggle. That was all a hysterical Kurt Hummel could do once he got back to his apartment. He skipped in through his front door, swinging it elegantly shut as he waltzed across his foyer, singing loudly to himself.

Giggle. That was all a hyperactive Blaine Anderson could do once he got back to his apartment. He bounded in through his front door, kicking it shut as he span across his lounge, singing rowdily to himself.

Then their moods faltered.

xXx

The pair went their separate ways late that night after taking another, but this time more leisurely, stroll along Broadway. Admiring the sights and sounds that the street had to offer.

Kurt summoned a company car to pick the pair up, when it pulled up at the end of the street, Blaine was stunned.

It was a large black Chevrolet with tinted windows and a driver who looked like he could snap you with one look. Blaine was very nervous getting in, but soon relaxed once Kurt revealed the bottle of Champagne in the middle arm rest. They each had a glass as the driver took them back to Blaine's apartment, the long and scenic route on Kurt's request.

Blaine felt a little mismatched when the Chevrolet pulled up outside his apartment block. Now it wasn't one of those terribly poor, ghetto establishments, but it wasn't in a particularly well off end of town either. The majority of his neighbours were teachers or civil servants, all of whom earned enough to keep them in a good life, but not enough to afford the luxuries Kurt had.

Speaking of Kurt, he too seemed a little out of place standing outside this building giving Blaine a tight embrace. He had pulled the man into his arms as soon as they stepped out the car. Once they had exchanged contact details, and Kurt had given Blaine his (rather extravagant) cheque for the day's work, they split, and Blaine ran inside, jumped into the elevator and went up to his apartment.

Kurt was silent for the remainder of his trip home. He lived in one of the best apartment blocks in the city; his penthouse suite overlooked the beautiful Manhattan skyline. It was a gorgeous place with everything you could ever wish for in a house, but there was something not quite right.

As he set to work, finishing off his notes and sketches for next season, he found his mind wandering to a particular dark haired man, and those thoughts just didn't want to stop.

He spread his mood boards out across his large coffee table and pulled out a large red sketch book from his bed room and began to draft.

Every time he drew up an outfit or accessory his mind decided it would be a fine idea to place Blaine in said clothes, often in some rather, compromising, positions.

Which really wasn't good, as the majority of stuff he was drawing up was designed for women, and no matter what you may think... picturing a hot guy, in a floating mini skirt, was not, repeat not, a virtuous thought, (especially when the way it sat on his hips was incredibly revealing and indecent. Gutter mind much?)

Brain...this is body...stop, I said stop making up Those images, we are trying to work down here, and how on earth do you expect us to concentrate when our man Kurt is all flustered Down There! Yes, it really isn't helpful, especially in these jeans, so CUT IT OUT and let the man WORK!

Yeah...his brain had other ideas. And it was wrong, so wrong, because Blaine was Kurt's EMPLOYEE, and his FRIEND! These kinds of thoughts were unacceptable. Just unnacceptab- well maybe just a little bit ok...maybe...maybe?...No...NO Kurt...STOP!

He sighed and let his head fall onto the table with a thud. The pain now shooting through his temples was nothing compared to the one in his chest. And no, it wasn't one of those cheesy rom-com heartbroken pains, where the hero weeps for days over their beloved, because Kurt wasn't in love.

It was just a dull ache, deep in the pit of his chest and Kurt had no idea why, it wasn't like he had any romantic feelings for Blaine that could induce this. He was a professional, who had a new employee and a new friend, and who cares if they held hands or hugged for long periods of time after knowing each other only a day. He was sure all his girl friend's did that sort of thing, so why couldn't he. He was an honorary girl after all, it was well within his rights to hug and touch and breath this man...well maybe not that last bit...

EUGH! What the hell was going on! Seriously. What the Hell!

xXx

Blaine was sitting on his couch, cradling his guitar to his chest as a dreary ache spread throughout his body.

He stared blankly across his room at a dark shadow that was cast across the wall, it looked like Kurt's nose. And those crystals on display above his TV, they looked like Kurt's eyes, and the wood of his guitar, that matched Kurt's hair and...and...

His mind was lost, completely and utterly gone. All his thoughts were revolving around a particularly gorgeous designer and they didn't seem to be leaving anytime soon.

He imagined Kurt sitting there with him, as he serenaded him with song, strumming away on his guitar strings to a smooth melody of Disney classics. Kurt staring up at him through his thick fan of eyelashes as he hummed along to the music.

He pictured Kurt and him, dancing together, like they had done in the theatre, all singing and dancing again, but then grabbing hold of his tie again, and leading him backstage. He would shove Blaine against a door and...Oh! This was bad, This was really really bad.

Blaine couldn't be having this sort of thoughts about his BOSS, or his FRIEND! This was so inappropriate, it was unbelievable. Curse you mind, Curse you and your ability to make really really graphic images appear when I want to sleep.

Unknown to each other, both men were engrossed in reflections on the day, and wishes for the future. Although both knew this could, never, ever, ever happen, right, because they were just friends... and colleagues...who may sort of, a little bit, maybe...have a crush on the other.

But no one would EVER tell. Because that. Would. Be. A. Disaster.

TBC...