A/N: Ew, who's that? It's just me. Miss me? I sure did. Remember how I said I'd get my life in order. Well I did it! Yay! Anyway, work is super quiet these days so I have an abundance of time to write (while I'm pretending to do work...?) and I mean, Glee's actually been good lately (yeah yeah, that's a sketchy opinion) and I'm producing Klaine even when there isn't Klaine to write about. (what?) Whatever. I never had to make sense. So anyway Hi! :D

Blaine was late.

Blaine was always late, but today he was really late.

Class had started about ten minutes ago, but today his coffee had just been so good that he actually needed to take the time to sit down and drink it. To let the warm liquid seep down his throat and make him feel alive.

Mornings were never good for Blaine. Usually he was a bucket of sunshine, but that was only after a coffee. Or two.

Waking up at five am was never this hard when he was in high school. He supposed it was the routine - wake up at five, coffee, cardio and boxing until six thiry, vocal warm ups and then general hair maintenance until he left at seven. Every morning.

But now in college it was Monday, wake up at five. Tuesday: sleep in until two. Wednesday, don't bother getting up. Thursday, wake up at six. Friday, sleep in until nine. Sometimes he didn't even gel. Scratch that. Mostly, he didn't gel. Who could schedule a day around those times? Nobody, obviously.

So here he was, guitar in one hand, half-finished, cold coffee in the other. He was running, which could only end in disaster.

Three blocks into his sprint to the classroom that was on the other end of the campus to his preferred coffee venue, a boy opened the door to a classroom and Blaine smacked him with his guitar. The inertia stunned him and jerked him around, and he ended up dumping the contents of his cup onto the both of them.

In his split second of panic, Blaine decided he wasn't going to attend his lecture today.

"I.. am so sorry." Blaine mumbled weakly, ducking his head in shame. "Are you okay? I.. I wasn't looking, I'm so sorry. I can pay for the drycleaners, if you want."

If only it had been some guy in jeans and a tee. But no, this guy looked like a model. Hell, he could have been a model - this campus offered those courses. He was beautiful, in a white button up (of course) and a scarf and a brooch and those jeans looked like they were painted on.

Blaine audibly gulped as he met the perfect, cloudy blue eyes of the man he'd spilled his coffee on. The boy looked like he was twenty-five, but something told Blaine that he was only nineteen, like himself. Blaine waited for the rage, for the blow up or some restraining order. He was already wincing, waiting for his punishment, when the boy looked down at himself and suddenly laughed, shaking his head.

"It's okay, it's okay." he soothed, seeing how distressed Blaine looked. "How about...we go get a coffee on the way to the dry-cleaners, and if you buy mine, we can call it even?"

Blaine couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't help but nod. "Blaine, I'm Blaine," he introduced himself hurriedly, extending a sticky hand.

"Kurt," he said with a grin, not taking his hand but scooping up to take the empty cup from the ground to put it in the bin. "That's a sturdy guitar you've got there."

Blaine blanched. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"I'm pretty sturdy too," he winked, glancing down at his shirt and shaking his head. "I should learn not to wear white."

Blaine blushed and looked away. "I'm sorry..." he said, genuinely remorseful. He felt terrible, despite how well the guy was taking it.

"Hey, seriously, don't worry about it. I got slushied enough in high school to know to always carry around a spare shirt that goes with the outfit." he said, opening his bag and pulling out another shirt - dark blue this time.

"Slushied? You?" Blaine raised an eyebrow. "How come?"

"Gay," he said with only slight hesitance - always cautious to let people know.

Blaine didn't miss a beat. "Rough school?" he asked quietly as Kurt started to lead the way to the coffee stand.

Kurt gave him a little nod. "The worst. Complete with dumpster tosses and locker checks."

Blaine winced. "Ooh, shit. At my school... I was kind of the poster child for zero-tolerance. I went to an all boys school, and in my opinion, half the cohort was in the closet."

"And you?" Kurt asked none-too-subtly.

"I was leading the parade with all of my rainbow paraphernalia." he winked back and Kurt gave him a shy smile.

"You're lucky."

Blaine shrugged. "I wasn't always. I had a few rough times. Ended up in hospital for most of my junior year because of some homophobia." he shrugged. "But I'm stronger because of it, I guess."

"Poster child indeed." he laughed.

They walked in silence for a little while, and each boy snuck subtle glances at the other until they reached the counter of the coffee place. Kurt ordered his, before Blaine stepped up to order his second coffee of the morning and pay.

"There's something... overwhelming..." Blaine murmured sagely as they waited. "...about being drenched in the lovely smell of coffee..."

Kurt snorted. "That's okay, I think you got some in my hair, so even after I've changed, I'll inhale and think of you."

"How romantic." Blaine cooed, before he frowned a little. Too soon? The way Kurt was smiling, maybe not. "So what are you studying?"

Kurt gave him a bashful little smile. "A little bit of everything." he admitted. "Fashion, dance, IT and economics this term, and law, secondary education, music and art next term..."

Blaine's eyes bulged. "Seriously? I didn't even know you could do that!"

"It's a bridging course." Kurt laughed. "I didn't really know what I wanted to do, so they gave me a little bit of everything. Hopefully I'll know by next year."

"That's really cool." Blaine stated. "You're going to be like a super-hero..." he mused. "And your brain is going to implode with all that information."

Kurt giggled. "So what are you doing?"

"Secondary education, majoring in Music and Drama," he beamed. "I don't actually want to teach secondary, but if I get this degree then I can do tutoring and hopefully open up my own music school."

It was Kurt's turn to be impressed. "Whoa," he breathed. "Here you are with your future stretched out in front of you and mine on a rollercoaster of ambivalence."

Blaine shrugged. "A rollercoaster of ambivalence isn't a horrible thing to be on. I mean, what if I'm terrible at being a teacher? I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

Kurt gave him a little smile. "I'm sure you'd find something. Even a struggling artist would be a fun profession."

"Is there anything you want to do, or are you really unsure?"

Their names were called and they collected their cups as Kurt collected his thoughts. On the way to the drycleaners, Kurt spoke again.

"I auditioned for NYADA." he said quietly. "I wanted to go on Broadway... but the headmistress decided that I wasn't good enough to join her ranks." he said it lightly, but Blaine knew how much it was hurting him. "And... now I don't know what to do with myself."

Blaine listened to him with wide eyes, mouth gaping. "Wow." he said quietly.

Kurt nodded a little, biting his lip. "But it's okay," he shrugged.

"You know..." Blaine started quietly, tilting his head in thought. "You don't need a degree to be a broadway star..." he said with a little smile. "I mean, unless you're really bad at singing and dancing."

Kurt raised an eyebrow at him and he backtracked.

"What I mean is... like, if you already know how to act and sing and dance, what are they going to teach you? Broadway is about preparing for 6 plus months to get it perfect. You do rehearsals and workshops to make yourself better and if you don't get it straight away you practice. Every character is different and every character has a different backstory and every character needs to be lived through to come alive." he blinked rapidly, a grin on his face. "As long as you've got the basics, you can do anything."

Kurt couldn't help the smile on his face as he listened to Blaine passionately rant. "And what will people think when they have two people in front of them - one with a degree and one without?"

Blaine shook his head wildly. "Broadway is about a typecast. Actually, anything - especially if it's well budgeted - is more or less a typecast. Galinda from Wicked will always be a fair skinned, naturally beautiful, petite girl." he said. "Even if that girl is only beautiful with a tonne of makeup, and only beautiful from the stage, as long as she can wear that blonde wig and pull off the character, she's got the part. When you go for an audition, the only thing people really care about is your headshot. Even in TV, directors have a... vision, of what type of person will play their character." he said, matter-of-factly.

Kurt had just started blinking at him, more impressed that he knew who Galinda was (and that he used her real name, and not the silly version she concocted because she simply gave up on correcting people) than with his speech. When Blaine had finished, he glanced at Kurt expectantly, as if he'd just dropped a knowledge bomb and had changed Kurt's life forever.

"Yeah.." he said softly, and Blaine seemed disappointed with his reaction.

"In other words..." he said quietly. "Don't let college stamp on your dreams. If you want to be on Broadway, go and be on Broadway. Don't let other people tell you that you aren't good enough."

That made Kurt perk up slightly and he bit his lip. "Thanks, Blaine..."

Blaine grinned, stepping into the coin operated Laundromat and heading to a washing machine. The two of them stripped down to their undershirts - almost a little shyly - and tossed their clothes in while Kurt pulled his other shirt on. Blaine, in his white singlet, hoisted himself onto one of the counters and crossed his legs, patting the counter in front of him and inviting Kurt to join him. Kurt pulled himself up and for a moment they just sat there, in perfect, comfortable silence.

"Do you live on campus?" Blaine asked softly, wondering why he'd never seen this guy before.

"No, no... I live with my parents. I commute here gives me time to actually catch up on my readings."

Blaine scoffed. "Readings. Ha. Who does them?" he crooned

"People who do four different subjects, that's who." Kurt teased back. "What about you? Are you on campus?"

Blaine nodded proudly. "I share a dorm with one of my friends from high school," he beamed.

"Is that expensive?" Kurt asked, head tilted.

"Not when you have your parents paying for it." Blaine shrugged.

"Ooh, very cool," Kurt exclaimed. "That's nice of them…graduation present?"

Blaine winced. "It was mostly to get rid of me, to be honest. The whole… 'loving dudes' thing didn't sit too well with them."

"Oh, I'm sorry…" Kurt flushed slightly.

"No, don't be," he waved it off. "Like I said – stronger because of it."

Another silence passed, this one slightly more uncomfortable than the last, as Kurt started to think about the two of them. Blaine got up as the machine beeped, putting their shirts in the dryer.

"Oh my god, how rude of me…" Blaine slapped his hand to his forehead, knowing how cheesy this was about to sound. "I spilled coffee on you, smacked you with my guitar, bought you coffee and I haven't even given you my number yet…" he glanced at Kurt hopefully, giving him a cute little grin.

Kurt laughed, shaking his head. "You're right, that is pretty rude. So rude, I don't think you deserve my number."

Blaine pouted, "But how will we meet up for coffee in the mornings?"

"You'll just have to spill your drink on me more often," he said playfully, before handing his phone over to Blaine. He took a moment, typing in his number before passing it back and catching Kurt's eyes.

"Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are?" Blaine said rather suddenly, and Kurt stared up at him, blinking rapidly.

Blaine immediately coloured.

"I mean… no, I mean, that's exactly what I meant, I just…" he closed his eyes, confused. "I mean, you're just really gorgeous."

"Smooth," Kurt retorted bashfully, biting his lip. "But…thanks," he whispered quietly. "I… I really appreciate it."

"You must get it all the time…" Blaine murmured, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Uhm… that was the first, actually."

Blaine's mouth fell open. "No…" he shook his head. "No, come on. That was not the first time that's happened."

Kurt didn't say anything, glancing away.

"Oh my god, why weren't we friends sooner? I would absolutely shower you with compliments every god damn time I saw you!" he didn't notice the way he shuffled closer, eyes sparkling with sincerity. "No wonder you're doing fashion, you dress like a god."

Kurt giggled and shook his head, his face flushing a dark red. "Stop that…" he chided playfully.

"What if I don't want to?"

"You have to."

"Why?"

"Because… you're supposed to ask people out before you shower them with stupid compliments like that," he said, matter-of-factly.

Blaine looked affronted. "Why Kurt, we've only just met!"

"You also hit me with your guitar," Kurt answered him.

Blaine reasoned his point. "Yeah… yeah, I guess you're right. We have to date each other now."

Kurt nodded seriously. "It's only polite."

Blaine let out a ridiculously loud, drawn out sigh. "FINE." He grunted. "Kurt, will you go out with me?"

Kurt pretended to consider it, giving him a raised eyebrow before looking him up and down. He looked disgusted for a moment, reluctantly nodding. "Yeah…if I have to…"

"Good," he beamed, jumping off the counter as the dryer beeped. "See you later, boyfie."

Kurt watched, a little stunned as he went to the dryer, taking his shirt out, tossing Kurt's at him before taking two steps to kiss him on the cheek. Blaine barely looked at him, and Kurt could see that Blaine was blushing as he grabbed his guitar and left the Laundromat without another word.

Ten seconds later, Kurt's phone beeped with a text.

Blaine: So… coffee tomorrow?

A/N: I know, I know... it ended a bit abruptly, but I was running out of time. Also guys, I want to let you know - the opinions expressed by my writing is not necessarily the same opinions expressed by myself. Keep that in mind as you read. I've had a couple of.. um, talkings to about the language that I use and the views I express.