"Why are the falafels from the sketchy carts on the street so good?" Kurt asked, stuffing a huge mouthful of his sandwich into his mouth.
Blaine laughed. "Because they're packed with grease and fat," he replied.
Kurt glared at him. "Don't ruin this for me," he said with his mouth full.
Blaine hadn't even started his yet. He was waiting until they were comfortably sitting on a park bench in Central Park overlooking the lake. Blaine was spending the weekend in New York with Kurt and they decided to spend their day in Central Park. After waking up late, they grabbed lunch on the run and were now only a few blocks from the park. They stopped at a cross walk and waited for the light to change. Blaine felt a tap on his arm.
"Excuse me," an older man said to him. "Do you have any money for the bus?" he asked.
Blaine dug through his pockets, not wanting to present his entire wallet in front of the man. "No, sorry, I don't have any change," Blaine said.
The man looked sad: he was dirty, his clothes were worn, and his hair was disheveled.
Blaine's guilt set in. "Here. I bet it's still hot, too," he said, handing the man the bag with his falafel in it.
"Thanks, man! Have a nice day," the man said. He disappeared into the crowds of people on the streets.
Kurt stood next to Blaine, beaming. "That was really nice," Kurt said.
"Thanks, but now I have no lunch," Blaine said, laughing. They crossed the street and they got into line at the next street cart. When Blaine tried to pay for his lunch, Kurt stopped him and paid for him. "You didn't have to," Blaine said.
"Yes I did," Kurt said. He leaned in and kissed Blaine. They found their way to their favorite bench in the park, overlooking the lake and sat for a while, eating their lunch and talking.