Hey :)

Before you read, yes I played around with some sexual preferences a bit.

Also, I rewrote it because of the lack of straight males—which are still lacking—but now less so.

I always feel awkward here, so the quality of these author note things will probably drop more.

I'm also on leavers from this morning (no computer), so there won't be the update until I get back.

It will be up either Tuesday if I can be bothered writing it on my iphone, otherwise Wednesday (Perth, WA time).

Oh, and I'd prefer it if you didn't come and murder me after this one?

If you want to/need to contact me, I have my tumblr on my phone (though I just cleared my tumblr completely).

It's seamars(dot)tumblr(dot)com, just incase one cares.

Otherwise, enjoy :)

I do not own Glee.

CHAPTER TWO

"So I guess I'm the girl from Human Resources?" Blaine continued, his smile never faltering.

"Funny." Kurt said bluntly, dripping with sarcasm.

Kurt turned and walked—or perhaps stalked—back into his office, leaving a shocked looking Blaine behind him. The First Assistant prodded him towards the room Kurt had just entered, a reassuring smile on her face. She shut the doors behind Blaine, leaving just Kurt and Blaine standing on either side of the desk.

The first thing that Blaine noticed about the office was that it was large. Very large. A window covered one wall in its entirety, taking in a view of Central Park. Kurt's glass-topped desk was pushed off to one side of the room, with his chair facing away from the window, but towards a fan of glossy fashion magazines, a tray of coffee and a New Yorker. The other side of the room had a modern and comfortable-looking chaise lounge, and racks of clothes organised by designer and colour.

"They're for the run through on Friday." Kurt said, and Blaine realised he'd be staring curiously at the racks.

Blaine turned back to Kurt, to find him now sitting at his desk, drinking a coffee and flipping through The New Yorker. He stood there awkwardly for two whole minutes, waiting for Kurt to invite him to sit down.

"Well, at least you know how to not talk." Kurt remarked, still not looking up from his newspaper.

Kurt Hummel is a dick. Blaine thought to himself, trying to hide his smile. He glanced over his shoulder to see the two other assistants watching them through the glass.

"Alright," Kurt began, setting his newspaper aside, "Girl-sent-by-Human-Resources—"

"Most people call me Blaine." He interrupted, struggling to hide his smile.

"I'm not going to interview you, and ask you 'what's your future in the fashion industry?' and 'why do you belong in this company?' because I honestly don't care. If my Starbucks is on my desk, hot, by the time I'm back from my meeting then you can sit behind desk number three."

"You got a job because you got some pretentious dick his coffee?" David asked, slurring his words slightly.

"It had to be hot as well!" Blaine said defensively. Yes, he really didn't do much to deserve this job, and yes he didn't really see a way that he could succeed as much as Kurt had, but he had always wanted to be in entertainment, and fashion was close enough.

"I'm proud of you Blainey. A reference from that place and you could get a job doing anything you wanted… like working at McDonald's." Trent said, laughter erupting again at the table they were sitting at.

Blaine was glad that he had stayed in touch with so many people from his high school. Most of the Dalton boys had left Ohio as fast as they could after graduation, quickly looking for the bigger, greater things that their parents expected of them. A large portion of the Warblers had moved to New York to seek jobs on Broadway, study at an Ivy, or waste away their trust fund on the nightlife.

It was almost a requirement that they meet up as often as they do, no matter that they had such a range of ages, as the rowdy private school graduates were hard to escape from in such a compact city, but they kept each other happy and insane.

"You should see the amount of couture he has sitting in his office. And when the workers heard that he had finished breakfast it was like a Warbler meeting without Wes and his gavel." Wes shot him an apprehensive look at that comparison, "Except they were all running around making themselves pretty or look like they were working." Blaine said.

The guys all laughed again, cautiously checking their watches to make sure they'd get enough sleep for the next day. They always caught up on weekdays, so they had to limit themselves most of the time, knowing the next day there was work or classes or something to do that was much easier senza hangover.

"Jeff just got a job in that building as well, I think. Some big-time marketing company?" Wes informed them.

The bar was crowded with people, most perched on stools around tables or the bar itself. Rush was popular on every night of the week because of the prohibition décor.

"Do you guys ever wonder whether our parents are disappointed that we aren't some big-time lawyers or something?" David asked. David was still finishing up his masters in civic engineering or something at Cornell University, no one really understood what he even did or planned to do with whatever civics was.

Everyone looked at each other around the table in agreement. Generally, the Dalton boys left the school for Ivy colleges, only to end up as lawyers or politicians or company executives. It was the creative boys, namely the Warblers, who demolished the high statistics and successes of the other boys by becoming successful in the arts, or even becoming well-known celebrities.

"At least we have fun." Wes said, hitting his hand a few times on the table—old habits die hard, Blaine thought.

People around them started to trickle out as the night wore on, and the ex-Warblers started to join them, until just Trent and Blaine were left at the table.

"I still can't believe that you just stopped singing. What happened to your dreams of being great?" Trent asked.

It was no secret that Trent was very fond of Blaine and Blaine's voice, though he claimed to be straight. There were suspicions amongst the Warblers that he had been the one to set Blaine up with Sebastian back in junior year as no one else could quite identify how the transfer had Blaine's identifier as "sex on a stick".

"My dreams changed into nightmares, I guess." Blaine stood and straightened his coat, getting ready to leave. Trent always stayed until they practically kicked him out, he claimed that he didn't like to walk home in peak pedestrian traffic, but as no one knew what that meant, and they had caught Trent making eyes at one of the waitresses, no one believed him. "And besides, who says I shan't be great?" Blaine asked with a smile and waving as he walked towards the door.

"Anyone can be great at fetching coffee, Blaine!" Trent called after Blaine, watching his friend push open the door of the bar and using his coat as a shield from the biting wind.

Kurt stumbled into his apartment, squinting through the darkness to make sure that when he threw his keys and iPhone onto the hall table they didn't fall to the floor.

When he came home this late, all he wanted to do was curl up in bed without changing or turning on any lights. But, even in his unusually drunken haze, he knew that he would regret it in the morning if he didn't moisturize and hang up his winter coat, at least.

As he busied himself with the bottles of Christian Dior cleansers, toners and moisturises, Kurt couldn't pull his mind away from Blaine.

He was completely entranced by the shorter man with the styled black hair. Blaine knew how to dress, which pleased Kurt, and Blaine was a guy, which also pleased Kurt.

The fact that he was a guy that Kurt could not stop thinking about did not please Kurt. When Blaine had walked into Kurt's office, he had busied himself with the newspaper, carefully and subtly inspecting Blaine without his assistants knowing. He looked so fragile, vulnerable and even a bit uncomfortable.

That was how Kurt liked the people around him to be… not that he was a tyrant, just that he didn't let people push him around like they did when he was in high school.

Kurt finished up with his moisturising routine, hung up his coat in the hall closet and put his loafers in their spot on the slanted shelves of his wardrobe, managing it all without turning the lights on.

He jumped into his bed in a set of cotton boxers and a shirt and stared out his large window. The city was started to sleep for the night, the lights on the buildings more scattered through the windows then they were a few hours ago. The moon was a tiny white sliver, like the whites of a fingernail, and reflected off the Hudson in a magical way.

"I could never get tired of this city." Kurt hummed to himself as he let sleep claim him.

Blaine didn't mind the long walk to his apartment. There would have been a time when he was too afraid to walk the streets alone past happy hour. Now, however, he relished it.

It was a good time for him to think. Once he got home, Sebastian would be badgering him for half an hour at the least, asking him about his day, forcing food down his throat in attempts to sober him up and generally treating him like a child.

The walk to this babysitting service, however, was peaceful. There were less people walking the streets, particularly on a cool night like tonight. But the cooler the night, the happier Blaine was.

He felt his iPhone vibrate against his right leg, and with a sigh at the blocked number, answered it.

"Hello?" He said brightly, trying his hardest to keep the annoyance from his voice.

"You're late." A snarky voice said on the end of the line, the tone tattooed deep in Blaine's mind.

"You're calling from a blocked number… You don't own me you know?"

"No, I don't own you. But you clearly need to be looked after and I somehow got the job, so you have to listen to me."

"Goodbye!" Blaine said quickly, moving his phone away from his ear and going to hang up. All he heard from the phone was the spluttering of his caller's voice, not used to Blaine defying him in such a way.

Kurt's aurora is getting to me. Blaine thought to himself, realising how much more confident he had been since Kurt had sent him on errands all day. The First Assistant, who had introduced herself as Annie, had taught him when it was best to drop Kurt's name into a conversation so that he could get what he needed easier, and when it was best to drop the name of the magazine instead. The Second Assistant had listed all the different temperatures and travel times from all of the coffee shops that Kurt may request coffee from, so that it was always sitting on his desk hot for when he returned from meetings.

What Blaine wasn't taught was how everyone in the building coveted Kurt.

He was pretty, yes. He had sarcastic blue eyes, and hair that was gelled into a lazy but stylish quiff. He was captivating as well, exuding confidence and ease. Blaine just didn't really understand why everyone fawned over Kurt. Then again, Blaine never understood why someone fawned over someone else, anyway.

Blaine started to drag his feet, really resenting the need to go home to Sebastian every night. He liked that Sebastian wanted to come to New York with him while he looked for the job, rather then his holiday to Paris to see his family again. Sebastian was sometimes, just a little intense.

Blaine let himself into the apartment, which now looked incredibly small compared to Kurt's office, leaving his keys and phone in his coat pocket and throwing it onto the hooks near the door.

Sebastian was standing in the hall just before it forked off into the bedroom on one side and the living area on the other.

"Tell me you didn't just walk home." Sebastian said, in the same snarky voice he'd used on the phone.

Blaine rolled his eyes and threw his hands into the pockets of his pants and started to walk towards the taller man before him.

"The only way I could spend longer away from you, Seb."

As Blaine approached, Sebastian grabbed the crook of his arm and pushed him against the wall, his lips placing opened mouth kisses all the way down Blaine's jaw, before ending up on Blaine's mouth.

Blaine deepened the kiss, pulling Sebastian's head closer, but the taller boy broke away, resting his forehead against Blaine's and rubbing their noses together.

"I'm sorry I worry so much." He murmured, his warm breath sending goose bumps up and down Blaine's spine.

Blaine wrapped his arms around Sebastian, pulling himself off the wall while keeping Sebastian close. He kissed Sebastian softly on the neck before biting down softly on his collarbone. Sebastian let out a whimper, pulling Blaine's lips back to meet his, but Blaine wouldn't let him, instead just blowing over the still-wet skin he'd just kissed, making Sebastian whimper again.

"I'm sorry I'm such tease." Blaine said, smiling, before stepping into the kitchen to fix himself a sandwich.

Blaine was sitting on top of the counter eating his first half of the peanut butter sandwich he'd just made when Sebastian came into the kitchen. Blaine had always felt sorry that Sebastian didn't really connect with the other boys in the Warblers, dropping out halfway through their junior year.

"You are such a child, Blaine Anderson." Sebastian said his face breaking into a smirk.

Blaine realised he was probably right—this time—as he was sitting on top of the counter, swinging his legs, eating his peanut butter sandwich with a glass of milk. Blaine just poked his tongue out.

"A child that you love?" Blaine asked, mock concern on his face.

Sebastian smiled.

"A child that I love."

"You paedophile! Get away!" Blaine yelled, jumping off the counter and running out of the kitchen, his glass of milk almost sloshing out of the glass.

"Why would you run towards the bedroom if I was a paedophile?" Sebastian asked, grabbing the remainder of Blaine's sandwich and following him slowly.

Blaine had stopped, standing in the middle of the living room, a couch separating the two of them. Sebastian smirked at him.

"What are we, five?" He asked and Blaine just chucked.

They chased each other around the couch for a while, until Sebastian finally jumped over the back of the lounge and pulled Blaine down on top of him, the empty glass falling onto the plush rug.

Blaine held onto his boyfriend's sweater tightly. Sebastian rubbed soothing circles on Blaine's back until Blaine's eyes began to flitter.

"Bedtime?" Sebastian inquired, knowing Blaine had to get up for work.

Blaine just nodded in agreement, his eyes closing once more and staying closed. Sebastian marvelled had how childish Blaine actually was. He had the boyish good looks, matched with his cheeky smile, playful, bright eyes and what the Warblers labelled as his "Peter Pan Life Outlook" where he believed he'd never grow up.

"Carry me?" Blaine asked, the pleading in his voice turning Sebastian on… just a little bit.

Sebastian sighed, but pulled Blaine up with him and carried him as a groom would carry a bride over a threshold. Blaine buried his face into the crook of his boyfriend's neck, never loosening his grasp on Sebastian's sweater.

Sebastian lowered Blaine onto his side of the bed, the room dimly lit by the streetlight just outside their window. Sebastian pulled the covers out from under Blaine before pulling them back on top and tucking him in tightly and pressing his lips onto Blaine's forehead.

"Do you want me to read you a story as well?" Sebastian inquired softly, but was met only with Blaine poking out his tongue again.

Sebastian chuckled, and Blaine's stomach fluttered as he realised just how lucky he was in New York.

Please Note: If i said Thad at all in this, it was meant to be Trent. It was a last minute change with a fair amount of rewriting that I did about fifteen minutes ago. I tried to change them all over when I edited it, and double checked it as well but it's 2AM and I'm sure I missed one, so I'm just apologising incase! :)