Not Mine
Blaine stares at Mike's email address for five minutes when he returns to his own apartment. He has been handed a line of communication to someone he really, really wants to get to know, and using it would definitely quality as making an attempt at acquiring a social life, but he has to remind himself that Mike did not give Blaine his email with any kind of explicit understanding that they were now friends, he did it as the by-product of a good deed in helping a clearly frazzled classmate.
It would be rude to abuse the implied trust of handing out a private email address.
It wouldn't be rude to send a thank you though. It was the polite thing to do. And there couldn't be any harm in inquiring about the obvious magical powers that Mike had utilized to give his notes a better layout than the course book. Mike replies five minutes later with several smileys and a link that just says Latex, which Blaine clicks uncertainly only to be linked to a website explaining some document preparation system called LaTeX and everything looks a little, but not quite like the programming stuff that's been making his head swim from his computer science intro course.
Another email pops up while he's debating whether he has time to learn it because it does look really good, but he really doesn't get code, where Mike apologizes quickly, having apparently realized that he just sent someone an email containing only a link labeled latex, and explains that the Chemistry institution expects all hand ins to be in that format.
They exchange a few more emails in which Blaine does not invite Mike to go for coffee, a little because he doesn't want to come on too strong after not having really attempted to make friends since he was fifteen and stumbling into the Warbler rehearsal room, but mostly because he knows his schedule for the week and asking someone out for coffee before seven in the morning is plain weird, and after six is definitely a date and the last thing he needs is to ask out his first potential friend who is very likely to be straight.
He finds out that Mike is a sophomore chemistry student. He uses huge amounts of emoticons. He likes dancing and robots and he's from Lima, which is so close to Westerville Blaine realizes he may well have seen Mike on the street or in the Lima Bean before without even knowing it.
It takes Blaine half an hour to convince himself he promised himself to balance his schedule better, not abandon it, and sign off to try and focus on the notes given by his piano tutor. The notes have been the same since the start of term they're getting more than a little frustrating. Sergei is more than brilliant and it's an honor to work with him at all, much less to be chosen as one of the students he takes on for one on one tutoring, but Blaine has tried and failed to compose something, anything, that doesn't receive the note 'temperamental', or 'too Italian' for over a month and the old Russian just keeps chuckling to himself.
"I can feel exactly what you feel. If that is what you want, go home, you are done. I am not here to teach you what you already know. You are too Italian, everything you feel you project. You need to be in control. I should feel what you want me to feel, not what you feel. Again!" He's not sure if he struggles more with the concept because he's too emotional to distance himself from his pieces, or because what he wants his audience to feel is happy and he knows Sergei won't accept one bubbly excitable composition after the other.
He has tried to convince himself to make everyone cry but he was stopped barely three bars in by Sergei's booming voice declaring he felt frustrated and guilty and demanding to know why. Blaine tries to take every comment on board and bites his tongue, reminding himself that he has worked his entire life for this opportunity.
The weeks following his commitment to socializing are surprisingly less hectic than the ones before. Reshuffling his workout and homework times to fit in a late sparring session with Tim, the percussionist from his music theory class, instead of his early morning training on his own does wonders for what he's beginning to suspect was the beginnings of cabin fever, and he's managed to sit down and have lunch with someone at least three times a week. Admittedly he still hasn't found time to go to one of the parties he's found himself invited to, but he's happy with his progress nonetheless.
He's even more delighted with his progress with Mike, who is quiet but not reserved and happily responds to each and every email or text Blaine sends, even when they're full of complete nonsense, and gives thoughtful feedback, even when Blaine sends him six very slightly different versions of the latest song he's been working on. Mike has invited him to join him and his friends (who are from Ohio too, but don't go to Columbia) for lunch, but Mondays are not one of the days Blaine has managed to fit in a lunch break so they have yet to actually meet up outside of class.
As if Blaine wasn't enamored enough there is also the incident that almost makes his run his bike into a wall. It's one of the warmer mornings in October and there are plenty of people sitting around on the grass, savoring the last warmth before winter sweeps in. Blaine spots Mike from an almost embarrassing distance, considering his contacts have been bothering him and with his four year old glasses the older boy is very much blurred around the edges and with his back turned. He's with two people, possibly the friends he mentioned. The blonde boy and the short brunette girl are holding mugs, presumably coffee, while Mike dances over the picnic table which only the girl (who may or may not be Rachel) has chosen to actually sit at.
The thing that makes Blaine almost miss the sturdy red brick wall moving toward him is that close up, or closer at least, he can see that Mike doesn't like to dance like people who go out to clubs like to dance, or even like Blaine likes to dance, he likes to dance like the students in the dance class Blaine provides accompaniment for with Tim and a few more guys for one of his ensemble credits like to dance. He manages to force his eyes forward just in time to swerve away from the wall, foot slamming to the ground as he makes a fairly graceless stop.
He shakes himself out of his stupor and takes off again, feeling sure the girl had been watching him but not daring to look back, immensely grateful that Mike at least had been facing away. He groans when he receives a text as he locks his bicycle to the stands outside the history building.
Are you ok? Rachel said she saw you and you looked distracted.
There was every chance that that meant that Rachel (at least he has confirmed who she was), had shared the fact that Blaine had been too riveted by the arching of Mike's back to see a frankly massive building until he was almost occupying the same space as said building. The mortification was subdued slightly by the conflicting emotions of elation that Mike was looking out for his wellbeing, and confusion that this Rachel girl, whom he had never met, could identify him from a distance, travelling at some speed.
It's already November when Mrs. Rosenblatt's encouragement and Mike's easy smile manage to convince him he needs to reveal his crush on the Asian boy. He spends two days thinking about how he could broach the subject. An email is far too impersonal but he's not sure he can face Mike if the first words he hears from his mouth are a rejection.
The rest of the week he spends gathering the materials for the brilliant plan he developed early Wednesday morning. He tracks down the assistant professor from his intro to chemistry class. The man looks at him as though he's sprouted a second head when he asks for tiny samples of elements and laughs outright when Blaine explains why he wants them but hands them over with very little argument. His next stop is the girl with the homemade bead-necklaces who still sat next to him every week in Ancient Civ, even after he turned down the date she had offered. She coos and pinches his cheeks and readily agrees to help him construct a bracelet.
Jenna lets him into one of the art buildings he's never been in because he isn't taking any fine arts at Columbia, having conceded when his father said he was taking enough of them at Juilliard. The room Jenna leads him to feels hotter than a sauna and judging by the sweat staining her tank top she's already been there awhile.
He watches, mesmerized, as she slowly shapes the glass beads around the little samples of substances he's brought her and listens intently as she teaches him how to braid the thin leather bands. When he looks up from the bracelet, finally happy with it, she grins at him, adding another of her own creations (he counts eight) to the pile on her right.
He has the bracelet in his hand all through his algebra class on Monday, wanting to hand it over with the perfect words, and preferably some of the charm Wes always claimed he had.
What he ends up doing is waiting until he hears people starting to snap books closed before panicking and thrusting the trinket into Mike's hand. "Just…read it when you get home. Or whenever." He dashes out of the room before he does something stupid like kiss the adorably confused look off Mike's face.
He spends most of Monday night distracting himself with a report on ancient power structures and cursing himself for possibly ruining the closest friendship he's managed to establish in a way where he might not find out for a week.
The next two days are spent in a state of mild panic as his mind runs through all of the mistakes he might have made by handing over the bracelet.
'Read it' isn't very helpful. What if Mike doesn't figure it out?
What if he is confused?
What if he is weirded out by it?
Is it too much?
What if Mike had liked him but now thinks he is strange or even creepy?
He calls David, who has had a girlfriend for almost six years, and listens to him laugh for several minutes before hanging up and calling Wes. Wes tells him it's over the top and cheesy but not any more so than everything else Blaine is likely to do if they do end up dating so it's just as well Mike has been warned. He also says Blaine should probably be prepared to give Mike another clue.
On Thursday he gets an email from Mike with a scanned image of a sketch of the bracelet, complete with arrows captioning all the beads (correctly) and a conclusion (also correct).
Iodine ThoriumIndiumPotassium YttriumUraniumOxygenRhenium CoppeerTellurium
I ThInK YOURe CuTe
Apart from the sketch there is only one sentence in the email.
Does this mean you only date guys who are good at cryptic crosswords?
Blaine does not squeal. He does compose a song which neither Mike nor his piano tutor will ever be hearing if he can help it.