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Kurt tapped his foot impatiently and glanced at the clock on the wall of the bakery. He had to be at work in twenty minutes and had been waiting in line for what felt like hours. He huffed in annoyance as the customer in front of him took his sweet time trying to figure out whether he should buy scones or cinnamon rolls. The girl behind the counter – Remy, according to her name tag - looked just as annoyed as Kurt felt, and they shared a look of silent camaraderie as the customer changed his mind for the millionth time.
Once it was finally his turn, Kurt quickly ran off his order and as his box of sweet treats was prepared, he noticed a flyer taped to the front of the display case announcing a baking competition.
“It’s our annual cupcake contest,” Remy said, smiling as she grabbed the last few items from the case.
Kurt scanned the flyer and raised his eyebrows at the grand prize. “Free dinner for two at Triste? How is that even possible? That place is booked for the next decade!”
“Our owner is the head chef’s daughter,” Remy said, shrugging. “Good food runs in the family, I guess.”
Kurt thanked her as she handed him his boxes and ran out, hoping his coworkers wouldn’t be too annoyed with his tardiness. He did return to the bakery the next day, though, and officially signed up for the competition. The rest of the week was spent trying out new recipes and perfecting familiar ones. He had been baking for as long as he could remember and although he’d been buying cakes more often since moving to New York, he felt confident.
On the day of the competition, Kurt arrived early to find a small crowd already gathered around the doors. He found his designated table and quickly covered it with four different kinds of cupcakes.
“Tough luck getting stuck next to Anderson.”
Kurt turned around to find Remy looking at him sympathetically. “Who’s Anderson?”
“Blaine Anderson,” she said, pointing to the name card on the next table over. “He’s won this contest for the past three years.”
Kurt narrowed his eyes at Blaine’s neatly written name as if it had offended him. “Unfortunately for Mr. Anderson, his luck is about to change for the worse.”
“Good luck with that,” Remy said, and she patted his arm before walking away. Kurt brushed off her comment, not letting it bother him too much.
With a few minutes to kill before the contest started, Kurt walked around and scoped out competing cupcakes, happy to find that none of them looked all that impressive. When he returned to his spot, Blaine Anderson’s table was covered with cupcakes large and small, all of them impeccably decorated – some with fondant bowties, even – and for the first time that day, Kurt’s confidence cracked.
As he was taking a closer look, Blaine’s table shook and a man popped up from behind it, rubbing his hand over his gelled hair. If this guy was Blaine Anderson, then Kurt was in trouble. Not only was he apparently a fantastic baker, but he was ridiculously cute. He was wearing bright yellow tight pants and a white polo, topped off with a yellow bowtie with pink cupcakes on it. It was adorable when it should have been tacky and Kurt was not prepared for such an endearing juxtaposition.
“Did you hit your head? Are you okay?” Kurt blurted out, and he felt his knees go weak as the man smiled at him.
“I think I’ll live,” the man said, still smiling. “I’m Blaine. Blaine Anderson. Are you here for the contest? Anything you’d like to taste?”
Blaine extended his hand and Kurt took it, blushing at the implications of Blaine’s question. Not that anything was being implied, but Kurt had an active imagination and too many recent lonely nights at home, so he couldn’t be blamed for his train of thought.
“Yes, I’m Kurt.” Kurt shook his head and tried again. “I mean, yes, I’m here. For the contest. With the cupcakes. And I’m Kurt.”
“Hello, Kurt.” Blaine smiled at him again, but this time it was laced with a small hint of worry. Kurt supposed that wasn’t surprising since he’d forgotten how to string words together properly. “Hey, you okay?”
“What? Oh! Yes, yes I’m fine, just fine.” Without another word, Kurt scurried back behind his table as the bakery owners announced the contest was about to begin.
The bakery became very crowded, very quickly as the contest went on. Throughout the whole thing, Kurt kept sneaking glances over to Blaine, who was just as charming as he was gorgeous, working some kind of magic on the bakery patrons to make them hang on his every word. Normally, Kurt would find that annoying, but there was something about Blaine that sucked him in, too.
In the end, Blaine won the contest, though Kurt did come in second place. Kurt was disappointed, of course. Even a substantial gift card to the bakery wasn’t the same as dinner at Triste.
“Congratulations, Blaine,” Kurt said after most of the crowd had dissipated. He was balancing his trays and boxes in his arms, his table already cleared off. “I heard this is your fourth win.”
“Thank you, Kurt. Your cupcakes were amazing.” He grinned and sounded completely sincere, throwing Kurt off guard.
“You tried them?”
“Well, yeah,” Blaine said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I especially liked the salted caramel ones.”
“Thank you,” Kurt replied, and then they stood there in silence for a minute, their interaction - or lack thereof - growing increasingly awkward as neither of them looked away.
“I haven’t tried yours, sorry,” Kurt said, eyeing Blaine’s now-empty table and desperate to end their silence. “I’m sure they were great, being grand prize winners and all.”
“I have a couple left, if you’re interested?” At Kurt’s nod, Blaine bent down behind his table and jumped back up holding a small box. “I usually save some for my roommate, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Blaine took a mini cupcake from the box and held it out for Kurt to take. Kurt tried to grab it, but his arms were full and when talking to a cute guy, rational thoughts like, “put your stuff down and take the cupcake”, were nowhere to be found.
“Here,” Blaine said, holding the cupcake to Kurt’s mouth, which dropped open, mostly from shock. Blaine must have taken that as an invite, because Kurt felt his face heat up as Blaine popped the cupcake inside, his fingers brushing Kurt’s bottom lip. As soon as it happened, Blaine’s eyes widened. “Sorry, that was inappropriate. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Kurt shook his head, mouth still full of admittedly delicious cupcake. Once he swallowed, he said, “That was really good. The cupcake, that is.”
“Thanks.”
“Not that I mind being fed by handsome strangers, either.” Kurt wanted to kick himself for saying that out loud. Thankfully, Blaine didn’t seem to mind, if his suddenly shy smile was any indication.
“Um, I hope this isn’t too forward,” Blaine said, looking nervous for the first time that day. “I recently came upon a free dinner for two at Triste, and I was wondering if maybe you’d like to join me?”
“I’d like that,” Kurt said, a little breathless. Blaine looked relieved, and that somehow made Kurt even more smitten.
“Great. Here, let me give you my number.” Blaine scribbled his number on a leftover napkin and tucked it inside one of the boxes Kurt was holding. “I’ll see you soon, then?”
“Absolutely.” Kurt swayed his hips a little more than usual as he walked away, and if Blaine’s eyes followed him out the door, it was just icing on the cake.