A/N: So here we are, on the second chapter of what just may become a multi-chap fic I hadn't even planned a second chapter for... but I just couldn't leave Klaine hanging.
Have you ever written a chapter for a story in your head in the haze between being asleep and awake? That's where the idea for this came from.
Lots of dialogue in this one but things should be heating up sooner or later.
Blaine has been scoping Treats and Tomes out for the last two weeks, hoping to catch sight of Kurt again. No such luck. What if, since the paparazzi incident occurred, Kurt wouldn't be coming around anymore? But no, Blaine wouldn't think that way.
The desire to talk to him again, just to see him again, ate at Blaine's insides like standing close to a bonfire, a pleasant burning that could grow to consume him if he wasn't careful. Ever since their last meeting, Kurt held an even more prominent space in his thoughts.
Santana had a field day with it. At first, she enthused he ought to "tap that fine designer ass" and the like. As the first full week passed by with still no sign of Kurt, she had sympathized and reminded there were "plenty of hot gay fish in the sea." Now, after the second week of no Kurt was drawing to a close, she'd been trying to hook him up with random guys she knew from work to take his mind off of melancholy thoughts. But Blaine didn't want any random guy; he wanted Kurt.
Now he sits at his covert corner table, one which he has implicitly taken claim to over the last few days of his vigil, keeping an eye out just in case. Preoccupied by whirling thoughts, he comes back to Earth when the bell above the door rings out in the relative quiet.
Blaine looks over, as is now his habit, starting at the person's feet and working his way up. Spotless black boots, dark wash skinny jeans, a white button-up, all of which are promising, and then... a misshapen, worn yellow wool cap. Blaine sighed. Not Kurt. Kurt wouldn't be caught dead wearing such an accessory.
He goes back to staring out the window, mentally thanking his grandfather for picking such a great location. The neighborhood isn't overly crowded, but consistent traffic and the multitude of cars passing by pose a perfect distraction.
Green Honda Civic. Bet they think they're helping the environment. Red Toyota Camry. Maybe they work as a personal assistant to some celebrity. Blue Chevy Corvette. Either they have money or they're a trust fund baby. White Cadillac Escalade. Definitely a trust fund baby, or maybe the stray celebrity. Black Toyota Prius. Aspiring writer. Silver minivan. Soccer mom taking her kids to practice.
His internal monologue is interrupted when someone walks up to the table he occupies and asks, "May I sit here?"
Blaine turns to look at the stranger. None other than Yellow Wool Cap Guy.
Something about the other man's voice pulls at Blaine's mind but he can't place it. He looks closely at the other man's face. Perfectly trimmed eyebrows, prominent cheekbones, and the occasional spot of acne meets his gaze. But what really catches his attention are the depths of the other man's eyes. A beautiful pale green surrounds the irises, speckled with grays and blues. Blaine feels himself fall into a world where only those eyes exist, a meadow of spring flowers and cloudless skies.
He pulls himself away with some effort, knowing the other man must be completely freaked out by now. "Um, sure." He turns away in an effort to remain composed and absentmindedly realizes other tables were available and yet this man had asked to sit with him.
The other man smiles, causing Blaine to flush in embarrassment at being caught staring, before taking a seat opposite him. Between his hands steams a fresh cup of coffee and Blaine abstractedly wonders what kind of caffeine the man has a liking for.
"Non-fat mocha," the stranger remarks, as if he could read Blaine's mind.
"Sorry, didn't mean to stare." Blaine feels the need to apologize even though he knows it's not strictly necessary. Even that coffee order screams familiarity...
They sit in silence for a minute before the other man sighs. Blaine analyzes the pools of green and notices them turning blue. "It's me, Blaine. It's Kurt."
Blaine gasps as all the pieces fit together. The eyes, the coffee order, the voice... and now he's gaping like a fish out of water, which Kurt apparently finds amusing. Blaine snaps his jaw shut, inconspicuously glancing around the room to see if he's garnered any unwanted attention. Luckily, the few people in the establishment are too busy with their cell phones or their children to pay him any attention.
"What are you doing here?" Blaine asks, his voice quiet.
"You don't have to whisper," Kurt chides. "That's sort of the whole point of this ridiculous disguise."
Blaine can't help but point out, "The only thing wrong is the horribly unflattering hat."
Kurt chuckles. "Yeah, that was my manager's idea. The acne make-up was my publicist's."
"Manager? Publicist?"
"Yes, my manager, Rachel Berry, and my publicist, Mercedes Jones. We've all been close friends since high school and once I hit it big they were more than happy to support me and become a part of my professional life as well."
"I know," Blaine says accidentally.
"You know?" Kurt inquires with an amused smirk.
Blaine blushes and turns his head. Apparently Kurt hasn't lost the ability to fluster him with a simple look. "You talk about it in interviews sometimes."
"Aww, you watch my interviews," Kurt coos teasingly.
"Shut up."
"I think it's sweet."
Blaine decides to change the subject to spare himself any further embarrassment. "What are you doing here?" He belatedly recognizes how rude that sounds and adds, "Not that I'm not glad to see you, because I am. I was just curious as to why you picked today to come here."
Kurt laughs and waves his hand dismissively. "It's a reasonable question seeing as we haven't seen each other for a few weeks. I've been busy, unfortunately," he sighs. "This has been the only day I've had some free time this week." He smiles when Blaine nods his head in understanding. "And as to why I came here... well, I think it's pretty obvious."
Blaine looks questioningly at Kurt for a minute. Maybe Kurt just has a special place in his heart for this particular cafe. Blaine would never be self-centered enough to assume Kurt was implying that he was the apparently obvious reason that Kurt chose to return to the same establishment. "Yeah, the coffee here is pretty good."
"It is," Kurt agrees, "but that's not what I meant."
Blaine raises an eyebrow inquiringly, causing Kurt to laugh aloud. Blaine was so oblivious. For some reason he found it endearing.
"You. You are the reason."
Blaine gasps, completely disbelieving yet pleasantly surprised. Kurt Hummel, renowned designer and absolutely gorgeous Kurt Hummel, just admitted to wanting to see Blaine again. And he actually went through the trouble of coming up with a disguise and coming down to the cafe, not even knowing for sure whether or not Blaine would be there. The feelings rushing through his mind at the moment were overwhelming and he almost didn't notice Kurt twitch nervously in his seat. Almost being the key word.
"I don't know what to say," Blaine says, his voice sounding quiet and awed compared to what he had been hoping for. He's supposed to be reassuring Kurt, not sounding like a total fangirl.
"You're right. I'm sorry," Kurt apologizes as he stands. "I've sprung all of this on you and I don't even know how you feel about things. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. I'll just go."
"NO!" Blaine glances around wildly, knowing he's making a scene but he can't help himself. He can't let Kurt go, not now. "I mean, sit, please." He sends Kurt his best puppy-dog eyes and sighs in relief when Kurt slowly slips back into the chair with no argument.
"Why don't we get to know each other a little better?" Blaine suggests hopefully. "How much time do you have to spare?"
Kurt looks markedly tense as he responds, "I cleared an hour."
Blaine nods. He can work with an hour, no matter how badly he wishes it could be longer. "What's your favorite color?"
Kurt looks at him like he's gone crazy but when Blaine's serious face doesn't waver for a second, Kurt laughs aloud. "Seriously?"
"Mhmm." Blaine looks so attentive Kurt can't help but swoon internally. It's been so long since someone's asked about him purely out of interest and not with some ulterior motive to move higher in the industry or a lame attempt to sleep with him.
"Lilac." Blaine's eyes widen so Kurt explains. "It reminds me of my mom."
"Oh." Everyone knows of Kurt's mother's passing when he was young seeing as Kurt openly spoke of it when discussing his past for interviews. Blaine knows it must still be a touchy subject nonetheless so he chooses his words carefully. "That's really sweet."
"What's yours?"
"Turquoise," Blaine responds with thinking. Before it had always been red, but seeing Kurt's eyes up close just brought the color to mind and Blaine realized Kurt's eyes were quickly becoming one of his favorite things in the entire world. Not that that was creepy or stalker-ish at all.
"Where would your dream vacation take place?"
"Getting a little deep, aren't we now?" Kurt teases. Blaine's glad that the tension between them from earlier seems to be dissipating. "Either Paris, as cliché as that is, or Brazil."
Blaine leans forward, leaning his chin in his palm. "Paris I could see, but why Brazil?"
"Isn't it my turn to ask you a question?" Kurt counters. Blaine sighs but nods. "What is your favorite childhood memory?"
"Speaking of deeper questions," Blaine jokes. "But to answer that, I didn't have a close relationship with my parents as a child. They were always busy with work or attending some party put on by another prominent company. For the most part, I was left behind and taken care of by babysitters." Blaine sighs as the memories of lonely nights watching Disney movies alone in his room and eating dinner in the dining room with only that night's babysitter for company. "But I remember this one day, I was just about to turn ten. My mom came up to me, kissed the top of my head, and told me that she had a party planned out and she would invite the whole neighborhood. It felt like such a grand gesture and seeing as how they'd never really paid that much attention to me before, I reveled in it. Even my father seemed excited for it." Blaine smiles at the thought of his father spending that day with him as they stayed out of his mom's way while she fussed and prepared the house for the imminent party. "That would be my favorite childhood memory, spending time with both of my parents."
A small smile takes over Kurt's face. Seeing Blaine happy intrinsically makes him happy too, despite how little they know each other. It scares him a bit, that he's so invested in a boy he's only met once before. That added to how often Blaine's been on his mind over their brief period of separation should have Kurt running for the hills, but he's not. He can't imagine not having Blaine in his life.
"Sounds like you had fun that day," Kurt comments. "Now, to answer your previous question. I've always had this love for nature and since the Amazon rainforest is in Brazil... I just think it would be so cool to see it all."
Blaine nods and stores that bit of information away in the "Kurt" drawer of his mind. "Good choice."
Kurt takes a sip of his now cold latte, buying time to think of a good question to ask in return. "What is the first song you've ever sung?"
Blaine raises an eyebrow curiously, but answers. "Let's Stay Together. Al Green."
Now Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Really? How did that come about?"
"Nu-uh. One question at a time," Blaine reminds. "First, same question to you."
"I Wanna Hold Your Hand by The Beatles."
"Guess we both have a thing for iconic songs from before we were born," Blaine observes with a chuckle. "Sticking with your earlier question, or would you like a different one?"
"Earlier one."
"My grandmother and grandfather used to take care of me when my parents had to leave on an extended trips for work, conferences and stuff like that. My grandmother, despite her Italian descent, loves Motown. She listens to it all the time. When I stayed over, she'd have me sing the songs with her."
Kurt imagines a young Blaine, curls sticking out in every direction, singing along with the smooth, soulful voice of Al Green and he can't hide the smile that spreads across his face. "I bet you were absolutely adorable."
Blaine groans and hides his face in his hands. "Looking back, I was so off-key, especially on the higher notes."
"Well, not everyone can be lucky enough to be a countertenor like myself," Kurt replies soothingly.
Blaine snaps up, a involuntary gasp leaving his lips. He's never met a countertenor before. He's heard about them, of course, but a male singer with such a range is rare and meeting one in person and knowing that the person is Kurt... that's just amazing.
Kurt chuckles. "Yes, that's usually the reaction I get from people who know their music."
Blaine's about to respond but Kurt's cell phone beeps loudly, causing Kurt to hold up a finger and dig around in his jeans pocket. He slides his finger across the screen and intently reads the message that appears. He groans quietly and sticks the phone into his satchel with an annoyed sigh.
"I'm needed at the office," he informs. "Apparently not even my trained employees can correctly tell the difference between a flat seam and a french seam."
"It's okay," Blaine says, hoping he sounds more sure than he feels. "You're a busy guy. I get that."
"I had a great time just sitting here and talking with you, Blaine," Kurt says softly. "We should do this again sometime."
Blaine nods enthusiastically. "I'd love that."
"So would I. How about you give me your number and I'll get in contact when I have a free moment?" Kurt suggests, hoping he doesn't sound too desperate or come across as overeager.
"Sure," Blaine replies as he scribbles his name and number down on a napkin. He checks the numbers over three times to be sure he hasn't made a mistake in his rush (because how horrible would it be if he'd given Kurt the wrong number?) and hands the thin paper to Kurt with trembling fingers.
Kurt looks it over, smiling and nodding when he's finished. "Perfect."
"So I guess I'll be seeing you?" Blaine asks, just to confirm that he's not dreaming all of this.
"Yep," Kurt says with a smile. He leans down to grab his bag from the floor and hangs the strap over his shoulder. "See you around, Blaine."
"See you later, Kurt."
Kurt waves and then walks toward the door, pausing by the window to be sure his cap is on straight before walking out the door and out onto the bustling sidewalk. He looks back one last time to send Blaine a smile and then he turns and is gone in the sea of people traveling up and down the cement.
Blaine looks down at the worn wooden table, a wide grin spreading across his face.
A/N: I could come up with an excuse to try to validate the amount of time it's been since I've published the story, but honestly I don't think you guys want to hear it.
Did this completely flop or no? I feel like something's missing but seeing as you wonderful people deserved an update, I put this up. Hope it's to your liking.
Looks like this will be at least two chapters longer, so there's that. If there's something you want to see in particular, maybe some Rachel/Mercedes/Kurt interactions or Santana/Blaine perhaps, feel free to let me know in a PM or review. I write not only for me, but for all of you.
Until next time. And I wish everyone a happy and prosperous 2013! :]