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Blaine Anderson can say without a doubt that the day he physically ran into Kurt Hummel, and had red oil paint spilt down his clothes in the process, was the best day of his life. They spent the afternoon at Blaine’s apartment waiting for Kurt’s clothes to dry from the wash and talking about everything from musicals to mechanics. Blaine didn’t dare admit out loud that Kurt looked hot in his tight fitting Dalton t-shirt and baggy grey sweatpants. They learnt a lot about each other in such a short space of time and before Kurt left, he suggested they meet up for coffee soon.
One coffee date turned into two, then two turned into three and three into a daily coffee during school. Their fast blooming friendship was more than Blaine had ever wished for; someone to rely on who would push and support him out of his comfort zone, someone fashion forward who helped him alter his wardrobe to look less like a 5 year old boy and an old man at the same time, and someone who he thought was incredibly physically gifted. When Kurt went to the bathroom or when he was walking home afterwards, Blaine would admire his strong, lean physic.
One day, two months later, out of courage or sheer stupidity, Blaine met Kurt after his needlework class and asked him out on a real date. Kurt’s eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face, accepting with an enthusiastic nod. They agreed to meet at Blaine’s apartment the next day at 7pm with a dress code of ‘casual, comfortable and acceptable in public’.
Throughout his two classes that day, Composing and Songs in Film, Blaine’s leg constantly bounced and he picked at his nails. He took breaths and tried to remember that Kurt accepted his date offer and that they both clearly wanted their relationship to move forward into the romance stage. At the end of the day, he ran home to shower and get ready. By six thirty, he was wearing a simple black pair of jeans and a red button up with barely visible spots- he opted out of wearing a bow tie. His usual wild curls had been tamed with some mousse and hairspray.
At seven on the dot, he heard a knock on his dorm door and he opened it to reveal Kurt, wearing skin tight jeans and a woollen black turtle neck.
“Hi,” Blaine managed to squeak out, eyes drinking in the sight in front of him.
“Hi,” Kurt replied, blushing. “So, where are we going tonight?”
“I thought I’d take you out to dinner and then for a walk in the night.” Blaine grabbed his jacket from his bed.
“Sounds romantic,” Kurt teased as Blaine walked out and closed his door. He kissed his cheek, “let’s go.”
The evening occurred as Blaine planned; they held each other’s hands as they walked alongside the river after enjoying a delicious meal at a cheap restaurant. After a short walk, Blaine took Kurt back to the loft and kissed him sweetly goodnight with promises of a second date.
After three weeks of dates, they moved to boyfriends territory. One evening in Kurt’s room, Blaine was lay across his lap with him playing with his hair when he annoyed that he wanted him to meet his friends. Blaine froze; having heard stories of these friends, he was worried.
Three weeks later, Blaine was anxiously waiting outside the door to the loft, telling himself to just knock . When he did, the door slid open immediately to reveal his beautiful boyfriend smiling wide. They greeted each other with a quick kiss.
“Ladies, meet Blaine!” Kurt gestured to two women, “Blaine this is Rachel and this is Santana!”
“Hi, nice to meet-“
“Oh, please, Hummel tell me this is a joke.” Santana snarked.
“Santana!” Rachel squeaked.
“Excuse me, Santana?” Kurt snapped at the same time, folding his arms defensively.
“Look at him! Kurt, you work at Vogue so I am sure you see top tier models regularly and you only managed to snatch this up? He’s short, his hair’s a mess and I can see a little tum. I don’t believe it.”
“Santana, that is outrageous! Blaine is gorgeous and you have no right picking on my boyfriend like that!”
“Just the truth,” she hissed, raising her hands in surrender.
“No, don’t walk away from me! Apologise!”
“Kurt, it’s okay,” Blaine reassured.
“No, it’s not! She has no right to say that about you. Your height is perfect because you fit perfectly into my neck, your hair is so soft and I love the curls and, not that this is either of their business, your tummy is so cute and,” Kurt leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I can’t wait to memorise how it looks and feels without the shirt.”
Blaine giggled and his ears tinged red. Kurt turned sharply to Santana.
“Blaine is my boyfriend, not any of those fake-ass dolls that work at Vogue. I wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s mine and you’re not going to take that away from me!”
“You’re mine too,” Blaine whispered.
“Ugh, whatever you make me sick sometimes.” Santana said before she stormed off into the tiny bathroom.
“Well,” Rachel announced clapping her hands. “Blaine, do you sing?”