Author's Note/ second story in one day, geeze. i am on a roll. again, again, i am really sorry to anyone reading When The Day Met The Night. i swear to you, that chapter will be posted this week. i got the idea for this oneshot while watching the taylor swift video for 'mine'. for once, i'm actually kind of glad my mom had cmt on all morning. i kind of wrote this in less than half an hour, so i hope you guys like it as much as i do. thanks for reading! please review.

Disclaimer/ i own nothing. seriously. i still live with my parents. (i'm sixteen. it's okay.)

"Hey, Curly Q."

Blaine sighs heavily into the phone, balancing it between his ear and his shoulder. "Listen, Santana—"

"What, are you too busy for me?"

"Of course not," Blaine rolls his eyes.

"That's what I thought. Listen, I need you to come down to Quinn's café."

Blaine closes his eyes and counts to ten, says, "I can't, San. I'm doing something."

"How can you possibly be doing something so important that you have to blow off your best friend when she needs you the most—"

"What do you want?" Blaine cuts her off, annoyed. He's been trying to wrap his sister's baby shower gift for the past twenty minutes, but how the hell do you wrap a giant teddy bear? He's about to slap a bow on it and be done.

Blaine can almost hear the grin in Santana's voice as she says, "Quinn just hired this new barista and she's totally hot. I think her name is Brittany? I need you to—"

"Walk up to her, tap her shoulder, and see if you're in her future?" Blaine says in a monotone. Santana laughs.

"Exactly. See you in ten, Blanderson."

Blaine hangs the phone up without so much as a goodbye. He's beginning to regret telling Santana about his gift. Blaine doesn't exactly consider it a gift, because so far it's done nothing but make his life that much harder. It's just one of those things that some people can do and other people can't, like wiggling your ears or crossing your eyes. Most people can't see the future. Blaine Anderson can.

He throws the bear to the ground and walks out, slamming the door behind him.

The thing is, Blaine can't see his own future. He can touch any person in the world and their life will flash before his eyes, but he can't tell you for certain what he'll eat for breakfast two days from now. There are very rare times when he'll see himself in the background of other people's futures, like when he met Santana. He'd bumped into her in the hallways and she'd immediately demanded to know what his problem was, and would he like to know how they do things in Lima Heights Adjacent? Blaine had been too busy watching her future play out. That was the first time he'd ever seen himself play a big part in someone else's life. He'd known she was gay before she'd known—in her future, she would marry a beautiful blonde and Blaine would be her Man of Honor. He hasn't told Santana this yet. There are some things that just need to play out for themselves.

Most of them time, though, he's going through his life as blind as the next person. It's extra annoying when you know exactly what your big sister is getting for Christmas and have no idea what your parents got you, or when you see your best friend's wedding before your eyes with no indication that you've found anyone special for yourself.

Blaine enters the coffee shop and waves to Quinn, the owner. He scans the room for Santana. She's not there. As the realization hits him, his phone buzzes in his back pocket.

nvm bb. got a d8 wth her dnt bthr showin. thanx boo. xx

And at that moment, Blaine wants to take Santana and her stupid text speak and throw her out of the nearest window. He notices that the only pretty girl behind the counter is Quinn, and she's married. Santana must be off with the other barista—Brittany or whatever. Blaine's always pretty flippant about everyone Santana dates, because her future hasn't changed since they first met in seventh grade. It's still the same beautiful blonde standing next to her. Blaine sighs, annoyed. He's been standing in the middle of the shop for a good five minutes now and he's starting to feel like an idiot. Especially because the kid behind the counter is looking at him like he's stupid.

Blaine does a double-take, because wow, that boy is absolutely gorgeous. He absently runs a hand through his hair because he has yet to learn it does nothing but mess it up, and heads over to the counter.

"Finally gonna order something?" the boy asks, eyebrows raised. Quinn walks by and smacks his arm absently.

"Hi, Blaine," she says with a kind smile. She turns to the boy and adds, "Place nice."

The boy rolls his eyes and waits until Quinn walks over to clean a table before asking, "What can I get you, Blaine?"

"Medium drip, please," Blaine says, distractedly. The boy stares at him for a second longer before turning away to get his coffee.

Blaine's fingers twitch on the counter, tapping out a random beat that makes no sense to even him. He frowns a little deeper, staring out the window as the people pass by. The sound of the city is drowned out by the relaxing music playing through the speakers. Blaine recognizes the song but he can't remember the same. Something by Band of Horses, he thinks. Maybe. Quinn's in the corner talking to a man with a Mohawk, and Blaine wonders if he's her fiancé. By the way she swoops down to kiss him a second later, she proves him right.

A coffee is slammed down in front of him, on the counter, accompanied by a loud, "One medium drip, sir," The boy shoots a look in Quinn's direction. The Mohawk man grins in his direction and the boy sticks his tongue out.

"Thanks," Blaine murmurs, and as he grabs the coffee his fingers brush against the boy's.

The coffee drops to the floor.

He's in an auditorium, sitting next to three people. The boy—Kurt, his mind screams. Kurt—is standing on the stage, and then he starts to sing. He's got the voice of an angel, and he's singing a song from RENT.

How did we get here, how the hell? Pan left. Close on the steeple of the church…

The scene blurs a little, Kurt's voice ringing in his ears, and suddenly the song is over and Kurt's standing expectantly and then there's collective applause from the strangers sitting beside Blaine. "Brilliant, brilliant."

The one in the middle stands up and only says, "Mark."

"I…I got the part?" Kurt's voice is shaky, almost like he's afraid to hope. The man standing up nods once, twice, and Kurt's grinning like a madman. "Wow, I. Thank you! I have to go—go call my, my boyfriend, yeah! Thank you! You won't regret this!"

The auditorium shifts and becomes the outside of the building, where Kurt's jumping up and down, screaming into a ratty old phone, "I got the part! I got the part! God, I just. I love you, Blaine, so much."

Before Blaine can try to figure out what that means, he's watching Kurt sitting on a bed. He's talking on a phone, twirling the cord around his long fingers and grinning endlessly. "I think he's the one, Mercedes. I really do."

And then he's watching Kurt crying on a park bench, a hand covering his mouth daintily. The second Blaine starts to think that maybe, maybe the one Kurt was talking about wasn't the one after all, the smoke clears. He's seeing himself on one knee, holding up a plain ring.

"It isn't much," Future-Blaine says, "I couldn't really afford anything better, like you deserve but—"

"It's perfect," Kurt whispers, and then he launches himself at Blaine and exclaims, "Yes, yes, yes, forever and ever."

The park is gone, only to be replaced by an extravagant church. Blaine and Kurt are facing each other, holding hands. There's a huge man standing behind Kurt with a small brunette on his arm. Santana's behind Blaine, trying to discretely thumb away a few stray tears to make it seem like she's totally composed. There's a wedding band on her finger. The two men lean in and kiss, and everyone erupts into cheers. "I love you, I love you, I love you," Future-Blaine keeps repeating.

Then Blaine is shaking hands with a realtor, and Kurt's rattling off designers they can hire. And then it changes, and Kurt's holding a little baby girl with beautiful blue eyes while a little boy clings onto Blaine's leg in spiderman pajamas. And then Blaine is coaching a little league team with Kurt in the bleachers, cheering loudly, "That's my son, the one that hit a homerun there? Yeah, that's my kid!" And suddenly the field is gone, only to be replaced by an elementary school. Blaine's crouched down in front of a little girl whispering, "You're all grown up now, Val. First grade, wow!" Kurt's trying not to cry behind them.

The images start to slow from there—Kurt and Blaine sitting at a school talent show, watching their son play guitar on stage. Taking pictures of a beautiful young woman and her prom date. Kurt and Blaine walking that same beautiful woman down the aisle towards that exact prom date so they can be married. Kurt holding a baby girl again, only this time her mother is behind them, sleeping in a hospital bed. A young man who looks to be the splitting image of Blaine shoving cake into his wife's mouth. Scenes filled with grandkids and nieces and nephews. Kurt and Blaine sitting on a porch swing, holding hands.

Blaine isn't just seeing Kurt's future, no. He's seeing his own as well, for the first time, because Blaine is Kurt's future.

"Hello? Sir...? Blaine?"

Blaine's eyes shoot open, wide and locked on Kurt's. Kurt cautiously reaches for a rag and begins to wash up the mess on the counter. "Are you okay?" he asks slowly, "You totally zoned out."

"I—I, yeah. I'm fine," Blaine manages to choke out. Kurt nods, looking not for the first time like he thinks Blaine is insane.

"I'll just get you a new coffee, on the house," Kurt offers.

Blaine decides to take a chance then, in the middle of that dingy old coffee shop. "How about you let me take you on a date instead?"

Kurt's face splits into a dazzling smile, and Blaine can't believe he'll get to see that smile every day for the rest of his life. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I'm Kurt."