From Patrick: See you soon. I’ve got something to ask you when you get here.

He forced himself not to get his expectations too high; he’d said the exact same things before and each time it had turned out to be a complete let down. An elbow jabbed into his side and he glanced to Tina, who jerked her head towards the window. He followed her gaze and immediately knew what she was looking at.

He was there, wrapping his apron strings around his waist, his ridiculously tiny waist, and getting settled at his cashier stand. Kurt knew his name already, having watched him from afar for many weeks, getting only close enough to actually read his tags. The first one read ‘Hi, my name’s Blaine, and I’m plum crazy about organic produce’ and the second read ‘Blaine Anderson—Manager’. Blaine was attractive in a very proper way, with slicked down black hair and a pretty face with a strong jaw. Kurt had never gotten close enough to him to see anything else—he was too afraid to face the guy. Plus, he already had a boyfriend.

“Wanna go in and pretend to buy something so that we can meet him?” Tina asked with a grin on her lips.

For a moment there Kurt was tempted to go, then Blaine turned to smile at a woman and he felt his cheeks heat up. He loved the boy’s profile, finding the strength in his jaw line incredibly attractive. As if feeling Kurt’s gaze on him Blaine’s head turned a little more to look over his shoulder out the window. Their eyes met, Blaine grinned at him and waved and Kurt had to force his suddenly numb hand to rise up and wave back.

Tina cleared her throat and Kurt jumped, hurrying to reply to her question, “No, um, I’m okay. Let’s go or we’re going to be late for work.”

Tina sighed, giving him a, “Whatever.” They started walking and Tina continued her story. “So, I was talking with Kegan last night and he said that they’re pitching ideas in a few days about app ideas. He has no idea what to pitch though.”

Kurt skillfully flipped his phone in his hand. “He should come up with an app that allows us to get dating advice from our future selves.” He grumbled, glaring down at his phone which still showed Patrick’s text message. He had been dating this guy for almost six months and they’d been taking it slow—so slow in fact that Kurt was going crazy. He was waiting for Patrick to bring up the question of their future for weeks, or maybe even ask move in together. But Kurt didn’t want to bring it up because he didn’t want to seem needy. He at least had a guy. Unlike his roommates, Santana and Quinn. Santana had a parade of men and women coming and going and Quinn was too busy to ever even think about guys.

Tina eyed him. “You know, that’s actually a good idea. Can I tell him about it?”

Kurt laughed. “I didn’t think it was that good of an idea but, if it turns out to work you have to let me be the first one to try it out. I can use all the dating help I can get.”

“Having trouble with Patrick? He still keeping you just hanging by a string?” she asked, linking her arm with his.

Kurt quickly shook his head. “Yes, and it’s driving me nuts. But he’s such a good guy, maybe a little narcissistic and callous, but he likes me and he’s attentive.” She frowned at him but didn’t say anything until they’d gotten to the studio.

They checked in at the front desk and took the elevator up to the third floor where their boss, the designer’s office was. Patrick was at the desk and looked up as they came in. “Hey there. Two cuties at the same time.” Patrick was shorter than Kurt with blonde hair, perfectly spiked and big green eyes that always seemed to be crinkled up in a smirk. He never failed to look like he found everything in the world amusing, especially when it came to Kurt. He leaned up to kiss Kurt softly as Kurt got a text.

From unknown: Outlook not so good.

He frowned at it, vaguely waving to Tina as she wandered down the hall towards the studio. What the hell did that mean, outlook not so good?

“-urt, are you listening to me?” Patrick asked and Kurt’s attention snapped back to him.

“Huh?”

“I wanted to know if you wanted to do dinner tonight and then maybe come to my house?” He lifted an eyebrow and smirked at Kurt. Kurt felt his cheeks heat up and in his hand his phone buzzed. Another message from unknown:

From unknown: Don’t. Do. It.

“Kurt!” Patrick prompted.

Kurt looked back up and floundered for words, suddenly feeling a cold clench in his chest, which was silly. Maybe tonight was the night. “Um, Yeah. Definitely.” Before he could give himself more chances to sound too eager he ran after Tina and slipped into the meeting as their boss started talking.

As the meeting droned on the text from earlier nagged at his mind and he pulled out his phone and texted back,

To unknown: Who is this?

From unknown: I’m you.

Then another one came through.

From unknown: Ten years in the future.

Kurt narrowed his eyes at the screen, frowning. Bullshit. He thought, tucking his phone away into his pocket and settling in for the rest of the meeting. He forgot about the messages for the rest of the day, getting lost in work until Patrick caught him as he was getting ready to leave. “You still up for dinner tonight?”

“Yeah.” Kurt replied quickly. “I’m just going home to change. Want me to meet you?”

Patrick nodded. “Take a taxi to ‘Blue’. I have reservations under my name.”

“How’d you know that I was going to say yes?” Kurt asked, leaning in and smirking slightly.

Patrick curled his fingers under Kurt’s jaw. “Would you really say no?”

Kurt and Tina left quickly after that, her chatting all the while. He got lost in his thoughts, lips turned down in a soft frown. Tina said goodbye to him at the door to his apartment and started back to her own house that she shared with Kegan. Inside the apartment Quinn was curled up on the couch, her feet tucked under the skirt of her flowery dress. She had papers from her students in her hand, glaring at them as if giving them a mean look would magically make them into ‘A’ grade papers.

“Rough day at work?” Kurt asked, glancing to the glass of wine settled on the coffee table.

“I don’t know why I ever became a teacher.” She sighed, letting her head fall back against the pillows of the couch. “How was your day?”

“Okay for the most part. I kept getting these weird messages from an unknown number-“

“You can block numbers? Really, I wish I’d known that.” Quinn muttered, glaring at her own phone.

“-and Patrick asked me to dinner then over to his house.” Kurt told her, continuing to talk over her comment.

Quinn’s lips turned down slightly, “You’re going over to Patrick’s tonight?”

“Yeah.” Kurt replied tentatively. “Is there something wrong with that?”

She shook her head back and forth quickly. “No. Not at all. Maybe he’ll even ask you finally. I’m sure you’ll have a great time tonight.” Santana came around the corner, slinking along in her little red dress, holding her own glass of wine—although for her it wasn’t that odd to have alcohol in hand.

“Who’s going to have a great time tonight?” She asked, settling on the arm of a chair and crossing her legs.

“Kurt. He’s going over to Patrick’s tonight.” Quinn supplied, setting her papers aside in favor of her wine.

Santana’s eyebrows flew up. “Fancypants is getting married? Well now, we have to find you the perfect outfit.”

Kurt rolled his eyes at the girl. “You forget that I work in fashion too. I know how to pick the perfect outfit.” He strolled off to his room with his chin held high. Both girls followed him intently and then proceeded to give him helpful hints as he tore his wardrobe apart.

Santana paraded around in her dress, checking her legs in the mirrors and measuring how well specific heels affected her hotness factor. Quinn sat on the bed, toying with her phone until Santana bit out at her, “What are you doing?”

“Kurt got a message from an unknown number. I didn’t know you could block numbers.”

“You can’t.” Santana shot back before turning to Kurt who was trying on a very nice pair of tight jeans that once had been christened the ‘sex jeans’ during college and a black button shirt, “Was it at least a dirty text?”

“No, nothing like that.” Kurt sneered back, tugging off his shirt. “Some stupid prank message.” He turned towards Santana and gestured to her dress with his index finger as he backed into his closet. “What do you have going on tonight? That’s not your usual barhopping style.”

Santana flopped down onto a chair and stretched out her legs to rest on the auto-man. “I am going to a party with some of the models from work. It basically a shitty networking thing. The only good thing is that there is an open bar and I will most likely get laid.”

Quinn narrowed her eyes at the other girl, “Don’t you ever get tired of one night stands?”

“Don’t you ever get tired of not getting any?” Santana parried back. Quinn’s shoulders straightened and she moved towards Santana as if she were going to attack.

Kurt emerged in time to stop the girls. “Ladies! No cat fights! I’m having a crisis here.” Both sets of eyes were on him immediately, looking intent and expectant. “Blue shirt or the black?” He noticed the slightly disappointed look in Quinn’s expression and Santana’s sudden lack of interest. That didn’t exactly help with the bubbling feeling of worry that was causing his chest to ache.

A few hours later he was leaving the apartment and grabbing a cab to ‘Blue’, which was a restaurant on the upper side of New York. Patrick never spared any expense.

Patrick was waiting at the table when Kurt arrived. He pulled out Kurt’s chair for him and gave him a giant smile that Kurt got lost in. About ten minutes into their dinner a girl that knew Patrick from one of his previous jobs came up to the table. Kurt tried to listen until his phone went off again with a message from the unknown sender.

From unknown: Leave the restaurant now.

Kurt glared at his phone.

To unknown: Who the hell do you think you are?

From unknown: I told you, I’m you in the future.

To unknown: Prove it.

From unknown: Patrick’s shoes don’t match his belt.

Kurt glanced to Patrick and leaned to the side to surreptitiously look under the table and check the man’s shoes and then his belt. Sure enough they didn’t match. His head whipped around to glance at the restaurant but didn’t catch anyone looking at him.

To unknown: How do I know you’re not in the restaurant?

The reply was almost instantaneous.

From unknown: Has the waiter tripped coming out of the back, spilling wine on that woman’s white dress?

Kurt smirked and was in the process of writing, ‘no’ when the waiter burst out of the back room holding a tray of wine glasses. He stumbled over another man’s foot sticking out into the aisle and fell to the ground, the glasses going flying and landing on the woman. All eyes turned towards the woman and Patrick had to suppress a small smile while Kurt felt his hands begin to shake. “I need to go to the men’s room.” He told Patrick and sprinted away, locking himself in a stall, looking at the newest message from unknown.

From unknown: Do you believe me yet?

To unknown: Yes. Kurt forced himself to type.

From unknown: Good. Now leave and don’t look back.

To unknown: Why?

From unknown: Because if you don’t you’ll end up lonely forever.

Kurt’s heart froze at those words and didn’t reply immediately. These messages terrified him more than he could explain. He shoved his phone into his pocket and returned to the table. Patrick grinned up at him as he settled, “I was worried I was going to have to go and track you down in there.”

Kurt waved his hand as if trying to wave away the entire situation. “I was just having drama and strange things to deal with.”

Patrick tilted his head to the side. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I think.” They passed dinner in simple conversation, Patrick discussing office gossip and Kurt offering new ideas that he’d had for his own future fashion line. When Patrick won the argument to pay for dinner, using the excuse that he’d asked Kurt out, he led him outside and called a taxi. They got about halfway to Patrick’s house before Kurt heart began to pound. What if tonight really was the night? Patrick’s arm was wrapped around his shoulders, middle finger running up and down over the cloth covering Kurt’s bicep. Kurt grabbed for his phone and texted his supposed future self.

To unknown: I think tonight’s the night. I think Patrick’s going to propose. What should I do?

�It seemed like a long shot but Kurt was desperate.

From unknown: Jump out the taxi. You’re safer with New York traffic than Patrick.’

Kurt narrowed his eyes.

To unknown: I’m not jumping out of a taxi. I’m wearing Ralph Lauren. Plus, don’t I want him to propose?

From unknown: No. You really don’t want that. Go home to Santana and Quinn, have a drink and eat cheesecake.

The taxi came to a stop and Patrick leaned forward to pay the man before slipping them out of the taxi and pulling Kurt up the stairs to his door. Without preamble Patrick tugged Kurt in and pressed him against the door, sealing their lips together in a heated kiss. Kurt melted into the kiss without thinking, wrapped his arms around Patrick’s shoulders and leaned in. It wasn’t until Patrick was trying to take off Kurt’s shirt and pants at the same time that Kurt found his strength and pushed back.

Patrick pulled back, panting and looking very confused. “What’s wrong?”

“Have you thought of our future together?”

“You’re kidding right.” Patrick growled, mouth tightening into a frown.

Kurt shook his head. “No, I really am serious. Have you thought about us and the future and being together. Maybe even living together?”

Patrick’s eyes widened. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” He leaned back. “Listen Kurt, I like you. You’re fun and awesome. I just don’t see us settling down.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes. “You mean you don’t see you settling down.”

With a shrug Patrick let him go. “Yeah. I don’t see me settling down. You’re awesome and I like you but I don’t see us going farther than this.”

Kurt pushed away from Patrick, grasping the doorknob. “I can’t do this anymore.” He replied, his hand turning the brass. “I am so sorry. I just can’t.” He sighed. “I am so sorry.”

Patrick grabbed Kurt’s arm as he tried to leave the room, immediately looking repentant. “Kurt, I didn’t mean that. I just, I’ve never really thought of marriage it’s just, I have trouble thinking about things when you’re in front of me looking so very hot.”

Kurt’s eyes narrowed and he moved out of Patrick’s grasp. “Have you even thought of us ever being together?”

Patrick’s hand clenched and unclenched. “Kurt. C’mon. Let’s not talk about this now. We can talk about it after. Let’s go to bed.” Kurt shook his head once and grabbed the handle to the door.

“I really do like you Patrick, but I don’t want to be stuck in a relationship that’s going nowhere except the bedroom for the rest of my life. Maybe we should take some time?” He paused, hopeful that the other man would say something, when he didn’t Kurt slipped through and closed it tight. Before he knew it he was out on the street and in a cab heading for home.

Both girls were waiting there for him, sitting in an oddly companionable silence for the two of them. Normally he would come home to dead silence or raucous fighting. Instead they were both on the couch watching a CW TV show with frowns on their faces. Then Kurt noticed the guy sitting next to Santana, who looked murderous—and for once that look wasn’t directed at Quinn.

As he came in both heads snapped to look at him, “Did he pop the question?” Santana asked and then the man next to her looked interested.

“No.” Kurt said, his voice small and miserable. He was such a freak. “Who’s your friend?”

Santana turned to look at the man as if she had just realized he was there. “This is… Mike?”

“Mic. Hi.” The guy, Mic, offered with a lazy wave. His attention moved back to the scantily clad girl on the screen.

“Hi Mic. Why are you here?” Kurt said with a nod, not moving away from the door.

Quinn smirked at him over the back of the couch. “Mic came in with Santana and when he caught me watching ‘The Vampire Diaries’ he sat down. Apparently this is one of his favorite TV shows.” Santana scowled at her and then Kurt broke down. Tears began slipping down his face. “Oh, God, um, Santana?”

Santana looked over as Quinn rushed off the couch to hug him tightly and took this opportunity to pull Mic off the couch. “You gotta go.” Quinn moved Kurt a little away from the door so Santana could push her guy out the door.

“So, you’ll call me?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah. Right.” And slammed the door in his face before whirling around to face Kurt. “So he didn’t?” He shook his head. “Good. The guy was a massive douche.”

“I agree with Santana.” Quinn cooed. “He didn’t deserve you.”

“But you were all for it earlier.” Kurt squeaked, feeling betrayed.

Santana scrutinized him. “That’s because it’s an unspoken agreement for us to encourage you even if we hate the guy. Seriously though, I would have lost what little respect I have for you if you’d actually married the sleaze.” She grinned at him as he felt tears burn his eyes.

“I don’t know whether to hate you both or tell you I love you,” He sighed, pushing off from the door. “But right now I want nothing more than to eat a gallon of ice cream and go to sleep.”

Santana and Quinn both grabbed his arms. “As much as I love that idea,” Quinn started, “I know that you will hate yourself even more in the morning if you do actually do that. Instead, go to sleep and we’ll cleanse in the morning.”

“Cleanse?” Kurt asked tiredly.

“You’ll see.” Santana quipped and lead him to his room where Kurt barely managed to get his clothes changed before he fell into bed. His phone buzzed and there was another message,

From unknown: I am so happy for you, for us, right now. You made the right decision. Sleep well.

To unknown: Are you sure I did the right thing because I sure don’t feel like I did.

From unknown: Positive. Let the girls take care of you in the morning and maybe you should take a trip to Whole Foods.

To unknown: Why Whole Foods?

From unknown: You know how much you love their dark chocolate covered dried mangoes. Now sleep. Don’t worry about your skin routine.

Kurt scoffed at his phone but decided to take up his future self’s instructions and let his eyes fall closed.