Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, but Riker is mine.

…

Nick's reading at a coffee shop, sitting in his favourite chair close to the fire, letting his fingers dance over the pages, when he hears footsteps approaching. The sharp click of shoe heels and the faint aroma of cologne invade his senses, and without even having to see him, Nick knows that Blaine is approaching. He freezes slightly as he hears the soft shuffling of feet underneath, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck rise up like a dog on alert.

"Hey, Nick," he calls, smiling happily, "it's Blaine."

Nick looks up, his fingertips resting on the page, and smiles, his brown eyes directed towards the spot where he thinks Blaine is standing. "Hey, Blaine."

Blaine chuckles lightly, putting his hand on Nick's shoulder and gently turning him to the left. "I'm right here, man."

Nick tilts his head. "Sorry, I thought I…"

"No worries." Blaine moves to sit down, before turning to the person standing next to him. "Oh, and Nick. This is Jeff."

Jeff looks up from his feet shyly and smiles. "Hey," he half-whispers.

Blaine looks over at the boy a little strangely, because in the thirty minutes that he's known him, the blonde hasn't stopped talking. Perhaps he's just run out of things to say, Blaine thinks, or perhaps…perhaps it's something else. He shakes his head at the thought and continues on, "Jeff just transferred here from Canyon. The Dean said he wanted to join the Warblers and asked me to show 'im around."

Nick nods, reaching for his coffee and bringing carefully it up to his lips. "It's nice to meetcha," he says. "And you sing?"

Jeff nods emphatically, before remembering what Blaine had told him, "Yeah, not that well, but good enough, I guess." He pauses awkwardly. "Do you?"

Blaine laughs. "Does Nick sing? Dude, he's only one of the best singers out there. I'm surprised he hasn't gotten more solos."

Nick shrugs. "I'm not as good as Blaine here, but I'm pretty solid."

"You should hear him sing. He's crazy good," Blaine adds, a slight smirk on his face as he looks at Jeff.

Jeff turns a delicate shade of pink. "I-I'd love to," he admits.

Nick fingers the handle of the mug for a moment, before he drops his hands onto the table. "Can you…?" he trails off slightly, looking in Blaine's direction for assistance.

"Jeff's got hazel eyes and blonde hair that's sorta floppy in front and hangs over his eyes." Blaine pauses and Nick nods slowly, trying to piece it all together in his mind. He remembers hazel, a shade lighter than his eyes, and blonde, the warm yellow of the sun. "Oh, and he's tall, a lot taller than you or me—"

"Six foot one," Jeff adds, finally understanding what's going on.

"And six foot one, apparently," Blaine continues. "And he's got a brilliant smile. Perfect teeth, I swear."

Nick nods, oblivious to the effect that he's got on the blonde, who's blushing furiously and contemplating whether or not to hit Blaine over the head. "I'm sure he does," Nick laughs. "I'm sure he does."

…

Jeff's sitting in the practice room a week later when he hears the steady click-click of Nick's cane bumping up against the walls. The blonde's sitting in on his first Warbler's practice, to see if he truly wants to join, and he couldn't help but arrive fifteen—well, thirty—minutes early. He looks up from his perch on the couch and smiles. "H-hey Nick!" he calls out.

The brunette's brow furrows slightly, before his eyes light up in recognition, "Is that Jeff?" he asks, laughing a little awkwardly. He hadn't talked with the other boy since the day at the coffee shop, but he's positive he'd know the voice anywhere.

Jeff blushes, his heart swelling. In all honesty, he hadn't expected Nick to remember him, but the fact that Nick recognizes his voice is more than he can handle. He's not really sure where to go from there. Jeff's never known any blind people, and he's dreadfully afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing. Remembering Blaine's assurance of "just treat him like you would anyone else," Jeff stands up and walks towards the other boy. "Sit next to me?" he asks hopefully.

Nick smiles. "I-I'd like that," he says truthfully. He starts to walk forward, but his cane hits something with a dull clunk.

"Oh, sorry," Jeff apologizes, his voice much closer than before.

Nick stands still for a moment to collect his bearings, before realizing that he must've hit Jeff, and his cheeks redden slightly. He opens his mouth to apologize, but stops when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns his head to the left, and he can almost feel Jeff's breath ghosting over his cheek, and his stomach is doing somersaults like never before.

Jeff didn't mean to get so close. All he wanted to do was help, but suddenly Nick turns and it takes everything Jeff has to force himself to pull back, because Nick's face is right there, inches away from his. Instead, he slips his hand into Nick's, gently tugging him forward and trying desperately to ignore the tiny shocks of excitement that spread through his body.

They walk over to the couch; Nick relies mostly on Jeff, letting his cane drag behind him. It's strange, Nick thinks, how much he trusts him, seeing as they've only talked once, but he can't help but feel safe around the blonde. He feels the couch dip slightly with as Jeff sits down. Their knees brush, but just barely, and Nick can't help but smile at their proximity. "So have you decided if you're gonna join the Warblers?"

Jeff nods. "I'm sitting in on practice today, y'know, to see if I'd like it."

"So can I—can I hear you sing?" the brunette asks, a slight waver in his voice.

Jeff blushes, "I-I'm not that good, not like you at least."

Nick tilts his head curiously. "How do you know what I sound like?"

Jeff blushes even further, and ducks his head down, peering up at him from underneath this blonde fringe. "Well see- I was just-" he begins. "I'm not a stalker, I swear."

Nick laughs. "I'm sure you're not."

"Well, I got lost on Tuesday; I was looking for the French class in the East Wing, and somehow I ended up in the West, but I heard singing from one of the halls, and and I thought it was good, so I followed it. Then I saw you singing in one of the practice rooms, and yeah." He drops his hands down into his lap and studies them carefully, hoping desperately that Nick doesn't think he's creepy or wants to stop talking to him.

Nick fingers his collar self-consciously. "You-you thought I was good?" he asks, his hazel eyes gently shining.

Jeff looks at the brunette and smiles, wondering if Nick realizes how beautiful he is. "Yeah, yeah I do," he whispers.

...

They fall into a sort of routine, hanging out in the practice room before Warbler practice and meeting every week for coffee. Nick quickly grows to recognize Jeff's footsteps, surprising him one Friday by calling out, "Hey Jeffie!" before the blonde has a chance to say anything.

Jeff stops slightly before his face breaks out into a smile and his cheeks flush with a mixture of happiness and surprise. "Hey," he replies somewhat breathlessly.

Nick tilts his head observantly. "You okay?"

Jeff shrugs, struggling to keep his voice level. "Just happy I guess."

…

Nick thinks he can hear the spring in Jeff's step as he practically bounces into the practice room.

"Guess what, guess what, guess what!" he cries, flopping down onto the couch.

Nick stifles a laugh, setting his book down and looking over in the direction of the other boy, who has one arm is draped over the back of the couch, while his other rests lightly on Nick's knee. "I'm guessing you're excited?" Nick teases.

"Of course I am!" Jeff cries, pulling something out of his back pocket and placing it in Nick's hands.

"What are they?" the brunette asks, turning the envelope over in his hand and pulling out two pieces of paper.

Jeff beams. "Coldplay tickets. Two of them, specifically." He pauses, blushing. "I was wondering if…maybe you wanted to go with me." Like a date. he adds mentally, a trace of a smile crossing his face as he imagines what it'd be like to have Nick as his boyfriend.

"A date?" Nick echoes softly as Jeff realizes that he'd said the last part aloud.

Jeff blushes. "No, no, it's not," he replies quickly, his heart fluttering at the thought of a date with the brunette, before remembering that Nick sees him as nothing more than a friend.

Nick swallows painfully, his throat constricting. He could've sworn he heard Jeff say it was a date, and almost hated himself for getting his hopes up. "Oh, okay," he laughs, hoping he's smiling enough to hide his true feelings.

Jeff shifts slightly on the couch, noting the change in Nick's tone. Something's wrong, but he's not exactly sure what—he's not quite as good with understanding the nuances of the human voice as Nick is—and he wants nothing more to reach out and erase the sadness from Nick's face. "Unless," he offers, "unless you want it to be?"

Nick looks up and Jeff feels a flicker of hope. "I-I'd like that."

Jeff grins, reaching over to intertwine his fingers with Nick's. "Good. I'd like that too. Good. Then it's a date."

…

"And that concludes our solo auditions for regionals," Wes announces, "Thank you boys for trying out." A polite round of applause follows.

It's been about two months since Jeff moved to Dalton, and a month and a half since he joined the Warblers. Nick thinks the blonde deserves all the solos, but perhaps he's a little biased. "For the next order of business, I believe Warbler Jeff has a song prepared for us," Wes continues on, gesturing for him to take center stage.

Nick shifts slightly in his seat. He knew Jeff was auditioning, but he'd no idea the blonde would be singing an additional song. Why hadn't he mentioned it during one of their coffee dates? Shaking his head, Nick pushed the thought from his mind, leaning forward slightly in anticipation.

"This song," Jeff begins, his voice shaking slightly, "this song is for Nick."

There's a shop down the street, where they sell plastic rings for a quarter a piece, I swear it.
Yeah I know that it's cheap, not like gold in your dreams, but I hope that you'll still wear it.

Yeah the ink may stain my skin, and my jeans may all be ripped.
I'm not perfect, but I swear I'm perfect for you.

And there's no guarantee that this'll be easy.
It's not a miracle you need, believe me.
Yeah, I'm no angel, I'm just me, but I will love you endlessly.
Wings aren't what you need, you need me.

There's a house on the hill with a view of the town, and I know how you adore it,
So I'll work every day through the sun and the rain, until I can afford it.

Yeah your friends may think I'm crazy, cause they can only see,
I'm not perfect, but I swear I'm perfect for you

And there's no guarantee that this'll be easy.
It's not a miracle you need, believe me.
Yeah, I'm no angel, I'm just me, but I will love you endlessly.
Wings aren't what you need, you need me.

Boy you know you need me
Oh you know you need me
Oh you know you need me

There's a shop down the street where they sell plastic rings for a quarter a piece, I swear it.
Yeah I know that it's cheap, not like gold in your dreams, but I hope that you'll still wear it.

The song ends and the Warblers smile knowingly at each other, clapping and cheering loudly. Nick hears someone approach him and he doesn't need to think twice to know its Jeff. "If you haven't realized by now, I really, really like you," Jeff says, biting his lip nervously and taking Nick's hands in his own. "Would you maybe, consider being my boyfriend?"

It takes Nick all of two seconds to pull Jeff into a hug. "Yes, yes, yes," he whispers into Jeff's skin. "A million times, yes."

…

"You're taking him to…Color Me Mine?" Blaine asks with a trace of scepticism in his voice.

Jeff nods enthusiastically. "For our five month. He's never gone before, but I think he'll like it."

Blaine bites his lip, choosing his next words carefully. "Jeff, he won't be able to see what he's doing. Don't you think you'd be better off doing something else?"

The blonde frowns. "So? I can tell him what there is or he can decide which shape he likes best. As for colors, he'll probably go with red or something." He leans back in his chair. "Easy as pie."

Blaine smile a little. He knows that what Nick wants more than anything is to be treated like everyone else, but he can't help but feel a bit apprehensive about Jeff's little idea. Or maybe he should just loosen up. He smiles for real this time. "Y'know, you're right; it sounds like fun. I'm sure Nick'll love it."

…

"Where're we going again?" Nick asks, fingering his seatbelt. It's been a while since he left the safety of Dalton, unless it was under the watch of his "translator", so to speak, or his family, and his nerves are starting to kick in.

"I'll tell you when we get there," Jeff promises, taking one hand off the wheel to grasp Nick's in his own.

Nick smiles. "Okay."

When they finally park, Jeff announces with great flourish that they've arrived at Color Me Mine, Nick can almost imagine the smile on Jeff's face, so he smiles right on back, hoping his terror won't show through. He's desperately afraid of bumping into something or breaking it, and how does Jeff expect him to paint something he can't see?

"C'mon," Jeff urges, guiding the brunette into the store. "First, we've gotta pick what to paint."

Nick's stomach twists into knots. "I can't-" he starts to say, until a pair of hands grab his and lead him over to the piece lined shelves.

"Hold out your hands," Jeff orders softly, placing a ceramic piggy bank into the brunette's outstretched palms. "It's a little piggy bank." When Nick doesn't say anything, he gently takes it from him and replaces it with something else. "This one's an airplane."

Nick grins, realizing that Jeff fully intends to let him feel each object until he finds the perfect one. "I think I'd like something a little more useful."

Five objects later, and Nick's decided on a small vase, and Jeff chooses a dragon. "Thank you," Nick whispers, searching for his boyfriend's face to press a kiss into his cheek.

Jeff says nothing, just wraps his arm around him and smiles, wondering what he did to deserve someone like Nick.

…

Nick hears the rustling of paper as Jeff unwraps their pieces, just finished from the store. "How—how's it look?" he asks tentatively.

He feels Jeff grab his hand and squeeze it gently. "I wish you could see it, Nicky. You did an awesome job. It's better than mine, even," he tells him with a laugh.

Nick smiles. "Can I?" he asks, holding his hands out. The blonde quickly obliges, handing him his vase.

"It's red right here," Jeff says softly, leading Nick's finger over one section. "It's sorta a cross between an apple and a stop sign. Nick nods, trying to picture it in his head. "Oh, and here, here it's yellow," he adds, tracing a line down the side, "Like that warm sunshine-y yellow you feel when the sun's out."

He grins, closing his eyes and tilting his face towards an imaginary sun. "It sounds beautiful."

Jeff nods, unable to keep his eyes off his boyfriend. "Yeah, yeah it is."

Jeff's phone rings a moment later, and he walks away to answer it. Nick stands there for a while, turning the vase over in his hands, before reaching out for the table and setting it down. In doing so, his hand brushes against the back of Jeff's dragon and he's intrigued by its scales and the ridges on its back. Nick reaches over to pick it up. "Woah," he whispers, running his hands over its body. "Jeff this is—" he falters slightly, turning around in search of the blonde. "Jeff?"

Jeff re-enters the room just in time to see Nick trip over a shopping bag and fall down, the dragon shattering in the process. "Nicky!" he cries, rushing over.

He doesn't appear to be injured, just a few scrapes and scratches, but it's obvious that he's badly shaken. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Nick cries, tears running in rivulets down his face. He struggles to get up, ignoring Jeff's offers of help, and stumbles off towards his room, his cane wildly clacking on the hardwood floors.

…

"Nicky," Jeff pleads. "Nick, please talk to me."

Nick shakes his head, "I broke your dragon. You were really excited about it, and I broke it."

Jeff frowns. "It's all right; it's just a dragon."

"It's not just the dragon!" Nick cries, clearly frustrated.

"Then what is it?" Jeff asks softly, running his fingers up and down the brunette's arm.

Nick frowns, shifting away from the blonde, his voice barely audible as he buries his face in his hands. "You shouldn't have to do this, Jeff," he whispers. "It's my battle to fight, not yours. You deserve someone who's whole."

Jeff looks at him and wishes that he could show Nick how beautiful he is, and how much he loves him. He wishes that just for a day, he could take Nick's place and let the brunette see the world again, or that he could protect him from everything. He wishes that he could change everything, but at the same time, he wishes nothing will ever change. He shifts on the bed, tugging Nick into his arms. "Shh shh shh," Jeff whispers. "Don't you ever, ever think that. Yes, you're blind, but that doesn't make you any less of a person. You're smart, Nicky—you're the smartest person I've ever known—and you're kind and funny and you put up with me." He laughs a little and hugs the brunette even tighter.

"But most of all, you're you," he continues softly. "And you don't stop being you just because someone teases you or puts you down. You're absolutely amazing and you mean the world to me." He presses a kiss into the brown locks, and smiles a little sadly as Nick curls into him, tears leaking from his eyes onto Jeff's shirt.

"I love you," Jeff whispers, "I love you so much."

Nick says nothing, just buries his head deeper into the blonde's chest, and wonders what he ever did to deserve someone like Jeff.

They sit there for a while, Jeff gently rocking back and forth and humming softly until Nick's tears have dried and he feels well enough to sit up. "I love you too," he says softly.

Jeff kisses him gently on the nose. "I know."