"A question for a question?"

Kurt knows that most of his friends would find Blaine's dorkiness hilarious in the not-so-good way, but it did nothing but charm him. It's not something he could have expected, liking a guy that's personality was bordering on elderly, but he couldn't help but swoon when Blaine held out Kurt's chair when he went to sit down, and jokingly flirted with the waitress when she took their order, and used words like "dangit" when he stubbed his toe.

"Can we veto a question?"

"Hm…Okay. I will allow you two passes. Use them wisely."

Kurt laughs and rolls his eyes, taking a piece off of the shared biscotti in the center of the table.

"Fine. But I'm a really good question-asker, so be warned. This game may be your downfall."

"Well good thing I don't have any skeletons in my closet, then." Blaine winks and takes a sip from his coffee.

"We'll see about that. You go first."

"Okay…what's your favorite color?"

Kurt can't help but laugh at how serious Blaine looks.

"What?"

"Really? That's your question?"

"Well, it's really not polite to ask someone about their core wounds when you've just met them."

"Fine, fine. If it matters to you that much…"

"It does. It definitely does. You can really tell a lot by a person by their favorite color."

"Okay. Well now I'm nervous."

"Don't be. Unless it's orange," Blaine gags and scrunches his nose, "no one should love orange."

"Is that so? Well I guess I dodged a bullet there…" Kurt takes a sip from his mocha and plays with the straw, "I actually haven't thought about it in a while. You know, no one's really asked me that since I was six or seven."

"I'll give you time."

Kurt rolls his eyes but only because he can start to feel his throat constricting and he can't believe he's going to mention it.

"I think it's lavender. I mean, my mother had this beautiful lavender dress that she would wear to the park in the summers when I was growing up. It was always so beautiful. So…yeah." Kurt smiles and shakes his head infinitesimally, ridding himself of all the nostalgic, melancholy thoughts that are swarming to the forefronts of his consciousness. Blaine just smiles, knowingly, almost too knowingly, but Kurt doesn't pry. Doesn't mention it further.

"Okay, it's my turn…What do you do? I mean, I'm assuming your out of college…God, I don't even know how old you are." Kurt laughs.

Blaine recognizes the quick shift in subject but decides that it's the polite thing to do to just go with it. Let Kurt lead. And he's nothing if not polite.

"I think that was two questions, but I'll let it slide because you're cute."

Blaine smiles when he sees Kurt blush, but continues.

"I'm twenty-four, out of college, and I guess you would call me a freelance composer. But that makes me sound like some Generation Y, unemployed, new-age hippie, so…I'm a composer, but I mostly contract with advertising companies."

"Which means…"

Blaine rolls his eyes. "Which means I do the lame commercial jingles."

"Wait, but that's actually awesome. Wait, wait, what did you do that I would know?"

"I'm not telling you, it's embarrassing…" Blaine blushes and starts to play with the remnants of biscotti that are still on the plate.

"Well can I use it as a question?"

"Maybe. You'll just have to wait your turn and find out." Kurt sighs and slumps dramatically, making Blaine chuckle just a bit.

"Speaking of dramatics," Blaine starts, "what do you do at that drama school they call Julliard?"

Kurt huffs out another sigh, now resigned to the fact that he's going to talk about it.

"Dance. Well, ballet. And a little bit of modern, but no, modern really is dreadful so I try to stick to ballet."

"That's very…fitting for you. Elegant, graceful, sophisticated." Blaine smiles and Kurt preens at the praise.

"Well thank you."

"I should have really assumed it though," Blaine starts, taking another sip of his coffee.

"Yeah? And why is that?"

"Your body."

Kurt's eyes just about bug out of his head and he just stops himself from turning around to make sure that Blaine is really talking to him.

"Oh, well, um…"

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable. But, you know, dancers have a very specific body type. Strong, lithe, toned, and all that."

"And you notice my body often Mr. Anderson?" Kurt says, trying his best to recover from the floundering.

Blaine winks and then changes the subject to this months vogue, letting Kurt take the lead in venting about the monotony of Dior's latest menswear collection.

…..

"You know I hate shopping, Kurt."

"Yet, you agreed to come with me anyway," Kurt smiles and motions for Cass to turn around where he's standing in front of the mirrors, straightening out the wrinkles of the fifteenth button down that Kurt's forced him to try on just in this store.

"I thought we'd be shopping for you."

"You know, Cass, most people don't complain when they're told to buy new clothes."

"But I don't need new clothes," Cass whines, slumping over and pouting through the mirror at Kurt's reflection.

"Yes you do. You wear sweats everywhere. And stand up straight. You of all people should have good posture."

Cass follows directions but continues to pout, letting Kurt maneuver him and test the fit.

"Okay, well I think this one is a yes. How many more do you have in there?" Kurt asks, helping Cass unbutton before pushing him towards the dressing room.

"Two more. But I'm really tired, Kurt, and we already have five that I'm gonna buy so can we just please call it a day?" Cass asks from behind the door.

"No."

"Kurt!" Cass opens the door and sticks his head through, giving Kurt the best puppy-dog pout he can muster. "Please?"

"Nope, I'm doing this for your own good." Kurt says, unphased from where he sits on one of the decorative chairs.

Cass rolls his eyes and stomps his foot, but concedes, shutting the door. Kurt smiles, finding this side of Cass adorable and hilarious. He's always been intimidating to a certain extent, always more experienced, more talented, and more knowledgeable, and Kurt didn't really know how to interact with him outside of the bedroom, where he was best at false bravado. But this Cass; well, he can definitely see himself being friends with this Cass.

"Okay, I think you're really gonna like this one," Cass yells from inside the dressing room. He opens the door and steps out, smirk already plastered on his face, motioning up and down his torso to show off the royal blue short-sleeved button-up, patterned with stars around the cuffs. He twirls in a circle, doing his best impression of a model, before looking to Kurt expectantly.

"I like it," Kurt smiles, reaching out and adjusting the sleeves. "It's really cute. Shows off your arms well."

Cass blushes but Kurt doesn't quite notice, too focused on the small adjustments.

"Well I was thinking, actually, that we could go out on Friday. Clubbing, I mean. And I could wear this, if you like it," Cass smiles and tugs self-consciously on the bottom of the shirt.

"That sounds like fun! And yeah, you could definitely wear this with the dark wash chinos we picked up from Topman."

"That sounds great."

"Okay," Kurt pats Cass on the back and turns him around, pushing him towards the dressing room, "you still have another shirt to try on, mister."

"Yes, sir." Cass says, turning around to mock salute before retreating to try on the last shirt.

Kurt grabs his phone from his pocket and sees he has a missed text from Blaine.

Hey you. I was wondering if we're still on for coffee Friday morning?

Kurt: I actually have rehearsal early on Friday :(

Blaine: Sadface. I'm pouting at you right now.

Kurt: I'm sorry! Rehearsal is nowhere near as fun as coffee and conversation with you. Rain check?

Blaine: Of course. We'll push it to Tuesday?

Kurt: Sounds good.

Kurt thought for a second before sending another.

Kurt: But if your free Friday night and you wanted to go clubbing, we might be able to make that happen ;)

Cass wouldn't mind that he was inviting Blaine. Why would he? Anyway, he thinks it would be good to start introducing Blaine to some of his friends.

Blaine: I'm feel so old when you refer to it as "clubbing".

Kurt: If I recall, I saw you at a club a few weekends ago, mister.

Blaine: True. But I was forced there. Getting me to an 18+ club is no small feat. I feel like a perv.

Kurt: I'm rolling my eyes right now. We're going to a 21+ club anyway, I have a fake.

Blaine: GASP.

Kurt: Is that a yes?

Blaine: Well, if it's for you…then sure.

"Kurt?"

Kurt looks up to see Cass has reentered with another shirt—a hunter green camo patterned, three-quarter length.

Kurt frowns and turns Cass around so he can look at the back, pulling at the bottom of the shirt.

"No, no. I think if this was short-sleeved it might work, but with the three-quarter…no."

"Good, I think it's awful," Cass laughs.

Kurt rolls his eyes and pushes him back into the dressing room.

"Okay, just throw me all the ones you want, and I'll go stand in the checkout line."

A/N: Chapter 7 should be up soon because I've mapped it out. If you haven't already, you can find me on tumblr at kcollinspfanfic (dot tumblr dot com). I usually post there more often and take requests for ficlets and drabbles and things. Read and enjoy!