Work Text:
Wednesday May 21, 4.43pm
“Kurt Hummel, Travel Expert. Drinker of coffee. Friend of bowties. Fan of Sweden”
Blaine had lost count of the amount of times he'd turned the business card over between his fingers, reading and re-reading the words. He'd saved Kurt's number into his phone the day he'd received it as "Hot Travel Agent Kurt" but still hadn't plucked up the courage to call. The business card had never left his sight.
Don't be an idiot you idiot. He gave you the number for a reason.
He picked up his phone and hovered his finger over the CALL button.
"You can DO this" he mumbled to no one in particular.
Taking a breath, he lowered his finger to the bright green button. Just. One. More. Millimetre...
"BLAINE! ARE YOU HOME?" accompanied the sound of repetitive knuckles against his apartment door.
Startled, Blaine flailed and his phone leapt from his grip and landed on the floor. He sighed, silently thanked the shock proof cover, and crossed the apartment.
"Sam...worst timing ever, man" he groaned, opening the door.
Sam thumped him on the back with a hand full of soda can as a greeting and pushed past him. Blaine closed the door with a defeated sigh. He often wondered why he had his own apartment to start with. But particularly why he hadn't forced Sam to start paying rent yet.
"Why's that? What did I interrupt?" Sam asked.
Another sigh.
"I was just about to call him".
"Call who?" Sam asked, flopping onto the couch and opening the can of soda.
"HIM. Kurt. Hot travel agent guy" Blaine replied, slinking into the small space Sam had left unoccupied on the couch.
Sam sat up, confused. "Wait. You've had his number for what...two weeks now?"
Blaine nodded, his eyes glued to the ground in shame.
"And you still haven't called him?"
Blaine shook his head.
"Why the hell not?!"
"It's just....he's so....LEGS. Sam, his legs. How could I ever be worthy of those? I've mentioned them, right? What if he doesn't even remember me? He probably gives his number out to all the guys dumb enough to think he likes them. It's a good way to make money after all...reel the boys in...collect the gays..."
Sam held his finger up to Blaine's face to silence him.
"You're a crazy person, do you realize that?"
"Bu..." Blaine started to interrupt. He was silenced by Sam's finger being thrust against his lips.
"We're gonna call him. Right now". Sam reached to pick up the phone, and as he lifted it from the floor he heard a voice.
"Hello? Who is this?"
Blaine and Sam looked at each other confused. Sam looked down at the phone in his hand. The phone with the illuminated screen...
"Hello?"
Blaine's face drained of all color.
"Sam...tell me the call didn't connect. TELL ME THE CALL DIDN'T CONNECT"
Sam tapped the screen, disconnecting the call.
"Blaine. You're my bro. My buddy. The wolverine to my cyclops. I want with everything in me to tell you what you want to hear. I want to tell you that the call didn't connect. But I can't do that."