Part IV of the mobster!Blaine AU- woo! Their first date :D (But don't tell them, they think it's just Thank You Coffee, so shh)

Intoxicate Me

Kurt arrived at the designated café- just a block away from Central Park- and looked around, searching a short, curly haired boy.

Was he late? What if Blaine was already here, waiting for too long? What if he had to wait so long he just left? What if he's going to get his coffee and leave? What if-

Kurt mentally slapped himself and yelled at his brain to shut the hell up. Both Blaine and he were allowed to be late. It's not a date, Kurt, it's a goddamn Thank You coffee for Blaine saving him from getting mugged or raped or killed or whatever.

There he was! He was, indeed, there already- in his leather jacket, tight jeans, and big boots, sitting next to one of the tables. He notices Kurt a second later, an expression Kurt wasn't able to decode on his face. He waved once, got up, and walked towards Kurt.

"Hi," said Kurt gently, smiling just a little bit. It's not like he actually had some control over his face muscles, right? "Nice jacket," he commented. He noticed it was a different one today- less ragged-looking, clearly newer and more expensive.

"Nice hair."

Ha! He told Rachel the hairspray was alright.

After a moment of silence, Kurt chewing on his lips and Blaine fiddling with his fingers, he asked, "Care for that coffee now?"

Blaine smiled, more tenderly than he wanted to admit. "Sure."

They stood in the line, and Kurt made sure with a light pat on his back pocket that his wallet was still there, as well as his phone and keys. Too late, he realized his mistake, hearing Blaine's sharp inhale. Trying to dissolve the sudden tension, he asked, "So what's your coffee order?"

Blaine ran a hand through his hair. "Well, um, I don't drink much coffee, actually, but when I do, it's usually a medium drip."

Kurt turned around just in time to tell the cashier, "One medium drip and one non-fat mocha."

Once both were out of the noisy café, holding their hot coffee cups, Kurt decided they should go sit somewhere in Central Park, as so they walked slowly, burning their tongues with too-hot drinks, not talking, too afraid to break the ice.

They sat down on an empty bench, chastely distant from one another. Blaine seemed more formal today, and Kurt could help but wonder why.

"So," said Blaine suddenly, apparently deciding it was time to end their uncomfortable silence. "What are you doing here in New York? Besides, you know, getting lost," he teased, but somehow his eyes didn't seem amused- they were burning.

Kurt was taken by surprise- he didn't expect personal questions. "Oh, um, I'm studying in NYADA. It's-"

"I know NYADA," interrupted Blaine, his voice harsh, holding something that sounded a lot like… longing? No, that couldn't be.

They talked about Kurt life in New York- why he'd moved here, his major, his roommate, his dad…

It took Kurt more than three glances from strangers who walked by to realize they were leaning closer to each other now, completely engaged in the conversation. He wasn't bothered by that realization as much as the realization he was babbling about himself and that Blaine has barely even said anything.

He tried to ask about Blaine, and found himself sucked back into the conversation, asking more and more about Blaine's friends, brother, parents, plans for the future, inexplicably interested.

When it happened, neither knew who moved first, whose idea it was. One moment they were talking on and on, and the other- their lips were smashed together, tangled in a fierce, almost angry kiss.

They kissed for a long time, their hands holding their coffee cups in their laps, only lips touching and nothing else; nothing but the burning fire of a lustful, breath-taking, tongue-sucking, lip-biting kiss.

When they broke apart, Kurt was panting, and Blaine's beautiful hazel eyes were so dark it was hard to notice their color.

"I… I have to, uh, go," said Blaine in a low, throaty voice, breathing heavily. He rose to his feet and walked away, not looking back, leaving Kurt's cheeks red and his chest heaving, shocked and yearning.

That was… the second longest drabble I have ever written here, I believe.

Um.

Oops?

To be continued, don't you worry!