[A collaboration fic with Daftydraw - co-author of Glad You Came / Glad You Stayed]

Of course I had heard him sing on the radio, and had seen him on TV and always thought he was amazing, but like, a million miles away from where I lived - which is Lima, Ohio.

I grew up here, and went to school at Dalton Academy in Westerville before opening a music store - sheet music, that is; not records or cds, everyone buys those digital now. Sheet music for musicians. It's the right street for it, the neighbourhood a touch artsy, bohemian, host of the county famous vintage flea market twice a year and a much humbler weekday market every Tuesday. Mom-and-pop stores instead of pop-ups stores. The only franchise we have is, inevitably, Starbucks, because they're everywhere. But I like a good coffee just as much as anyone, so that's alright.

My parents had high hopes for my future after graduation, and I'm not sure a sheet music store on the verge of breaking even was in their plans. Luckily they support me - sometimes literally, when we don't meet the costs - and are only mildly insistent that I try to make something of myself.

I said we - that's me and Steph. We're not together! I'm definitely gay. Steph's my shop assistant, and the one with the actual degree to keep our administration running. All I contributed was start-up capital and a passion for music. Steph's amazing, and I often think she should be running the store instead. But for now, Between The Sheets is owned and run by me, Sebastian Smythe. The store name is a bit of a wink to my dating life, if you will. It's where the magic happens - I'm not exactly a wine-and-dine kind of guy; not anymore. But people can change, given the right incentive.

I live above the store, in a small apartment for two that I initially bought with someone specific in mind to live there with me. That never happened, and now the second room is taken, bedazzled and glittered, by my somewhat eccentric flatmate Elliott. He has a fabulous taste in fashion and a disastrous taste in men. He's always either head over high heels for some straight guy, or dodging calls from his one-night-stands. Well, we have that last thing in common, I guess, though I rarely give out my phone number to avoid just that.

He designs and makes his own clothing but has a short attention span, so more often than not, all of the flat surfaces in our place have half-unwrapped bolts of cloth or pattern paper on them that will stay untouched for weeks. We have agreed that he either cleans up after himself or accepts the fact that I will use said surfaces for their intended use, (and occasionally some unintended use that requires condoms). It works, but it's not ideal. Sewing pins in your ass? Not fun.

APRIL

"Is this ever going to turn into the jacket you said you wanted to make?" Sebastian lifted the corner of a slippery, silver cloth hanging from the couch before settling down next to it with a bowl of cereal. Lucky Charms - Breakfast, lunch and dinner of champions in one. Or it used to be, before Elliott picked out all of the marshmallow bits.

"Mmm, sure, one day," Elliott mumbled through the pins between his teeth, focusing his attention on the border trim of a top hat in his hand. "Going out on a date tonight and needed a hat first."

Sebastian looked at his flatmate, his naked chest with tattoos swirling up and around his arms, and the leopard print underwear he was wearing. "You need a hat more than you need clothes? Sounds like a fun date, can I come?"

Elliott chuckled. "Not your kind of crowd, honey," he said. "It's a Starchild night." He finished the last touches on the hat and put it on, pushing it slightly askew and giving Sebastian a pose.

Sebastian blew him a kiss. He knew what Elliott meant, and he was right. If he was going all out with his sparkly alter-ego Starchild, it wasn't Sebastian's kind of gig. He finished his cereal and put the bowl down on the couch. "I'm gonna go to the store. If I don't see you later, have fun. Be safe."

"Always, darling," Elliott promised, and for once, made a show of picking up all of his pins before they could get lost on the floor.

"Oh my god! Are you Kurt Hummel?"

The excited, slightly breathy voice pulled Kurt's attention from the vintage scarf he had been examining. He turned around to look at the girl and almost jumped a little when he saw that she was wearing a t-shirt with his face on it.

Three number one albums, a Brit Award and four MTV Award Nominations, and Kurt was still a little shocked whenever someone stopped him in the street. Particularly here in Lima, Ohio, the place he had fought to get out of for so long. Walking down the familiar streets still gave him little bursts of anxiety. Years of being jeered at and being treated like an outcast had left some deep scars, and no amount of fame or fortune would ever completely heal them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man on a motorbike point a long-lense camera at him and he sighed. That was something he'd never get used to either: paparazzi. Kurt decided to ignore him.

He nodded at the girl and smiled. He always made time for his fans. "I am indeed, how are you today?"

"Oh my god, I knew it! My friend said it wasn't you, but I knew it was!" the girl let out, barely breathing in between sentences. "I love you so much, your music is just…amazing! Your song Flight really spoke to me. You're living proof that people make it out of this godforsaken town."

Kurt felt his heart twinge.

"What's your name?" he asked kindly.

"Sasha," she replied in the same breathless tone.

Kurt could see she was shaking. "How old are you, Sasha?"

"I'm fifteen," Sasha replied. "I'm saving up for a trip to L.A. but my mom says I can't go until finish school and-"

"School is important," Kurt reminded her gently. "L.A. will still be there in a few years. Promise me you won't drop out?"

Sasha swallowed and nodded fervently. She would have probably promised him anything.

"Stay strong, Sasha," Kurt said, squeezing her arm. "If I can make it out of here, anyone can. Would you like a picture to prove your friend wrong?"

Sasha gasped and almost dropped her phone. "Oh my god, yes please…that would be amazing!"

Kurt smiled and took the phone. He wrapped his arm around the girl and angled the camera towards them, snapping a few pictures.

"Thank you so much!" Sasha squeaked, looking red-faced and starstruck.

"You're welcome, sweetie," Kurt said with a smile. "Have a great day!"

Sasha blushed and hurried off up the street, clutching her phone to her chest.

Kurt smiled after her for a second before he noticed that another bike had joined the first and both men now had cameras directed towards him. He wondered what awful spin they would try and put on it this time. Secret underage mistress? Long-lost half-sister reunited? There was no limit to their sordid imagination.

Kurt spun around and headed away from them. He heard the roar of two engines kick into gear and sped up his walk, sliding between people in the hope that they'd help him disappear.

When he realised that wouldn't work, he darted to the left and slid through the open door of a store.

Sebastian looked up from his paperwork at the sound of footsteps. "That was fast, it usually takes longer to get a frap- You're not Steph."

Kurt cocked his head. "I am not," he said dryly.

Sebastian quickly glanced over the young man standing at the door.

"I can see that. Sorry, I thought you were my assistant. We don't get that many customers...uh- around this time of day, I mean," he added quickly, hoping to ease over his fumble with a winning smile. The guy was pretty hot. He seemed familiar somehow. Hopefully not in a we-met-at-club-one-night-for-twenty-minutes kind of way, because it would be pretty damn unlucky if he'd have forgotten that.

"How can I help you?"

Kurt hesitated at the man's question, unsure of how to answer when he didn't even know what kind of store he'd walked in to.

"Err," he stammered as he glanced around. His eyes fell on the back wall of the store. A line of music was painted in black paint across the surface. As his eyes took in the rest of the shop, he noticed signs advising genres and instruments. Sheet Music. He suppressed a laugh. Of all the places he could have stepped into, he had chosen a music store.

"I'm fine, thanks," he said, still amused. "Just browsing."

"Well, as you can see, it's all yours," Sebastian said, spreading his arms out to the deserted store. "Tell me if you see something you like."

He kept their eye contact just a little longer than necessary, hoping it was clear the invitation extended beyond what he was selling (and no wonder my store is doing so badly, he thought to himself, I really shouldn't be distracting my customers from my wares to offer, well, my wares). He snorted to himself.

Kurt raised an eyebrow at the obvious suggestion and bit the inside of his cheek. He casually let his eyes sweep over the man. He was attractive; a tall lean frame, sharp, playful green eyes and an attractive lilt to his mouth. "Oh, I will."

Pleased that his gaydar was on point, Sebastian just nodded and turned his head back to his paperwork, pretending to mind his own business. But the store's accounts were boring, and the man in his store was most definitely not boring. Sebastian couldn't keep his eyes on the rows of numbers; they followed the man around the room as he traced the title cards of the sections with long, well-manicured fingers, stopping every now and then until he arrived at the Broadway section.

"It's mostly just Sondheim," Sebastian said apologetically, wincing at himself for not saying something more interesting. "I mean, I suppose if you like classic showtunes, he's fine, but we also have a great...contemporary...section?" he trailed off, because as he spoke, the man had turned around and looked at him curiously. His eyes sparkled - and Sebastian wasn't sure yet if that meant good things or not.

Kurt held the man's gaze for a second, toying with an idea in his head. He didn't want to seem arrogant - he never minded at all if people didn't recognise him. He sang for the love of the music, not the celebrity status - though of course it did have its perks. With this man though, he was curious to know.

"Do you have anything by Kurt Hummel?"

"Um, I think so," Sebastian said, going through some orders in his head.

Steph was a big fan, so even if he had neglected to re-stock it after the last album won several awards, he knew she would have. He moved from behind the counter to walk over to the contemporary section, and quickly flipped through several folders.

"Here we are," he said, pulling two stacks out. "Though good luck trying to match that range, I guess. It's pretty incredible. The closest I've heard anyone hit the high notes like that was my flatmate Elliott and let's just say he wasn't singing in the shower at that moment if you know what I mean."

Kurt grinned at the back-handed compliment. He did pride himself on his wide range of vocals.

Sebastian grinned back, pleased that the man had liked his insinuation, and glanced at the folder before handing the sheet music over. "Kurt Hummel. I think he's actually from around here, isn't he?"

"I am actually, born and bred. Left when I was seventeen to share my music with the world."

"No, I meant the sing-"

Sebastian did a double-take and closed his mouth. His eyes glanced over the man's face,darted to the album cover on the back of the folder - and back to his face. He could see why Out! Magazine had named him sexiest man of the year. Also, pictures really didn't do him justice.

"Ah, well. Wow," Sebastian said, and immediately cringed internally. Oh my god, Sebastian, he thought to himself. You almost had him before and now you really fucked it up. Wow?

"I definitely walked into that one," he admitted. "Do you still want it?" There was a small pause. "The sheet music, I mean."

Kurt grinned. "No, it's fine thank you…I have the original draft. Just making sure my music is out there for the next generation of cover artists." He winked. "I will sign it though, if you like? You can charge more for it. Lima needs places like this. It feels like the old-school stores are all closing down. "

"Uh, yeah, thanks," Sebastian said, looking around trying to remember where he'd last seen a pen lying around.

As he finally retrieved a pen from the counter, he saw that Kurt had already taken one from the inside pocket of his jacket. His pretty amazing jacket, Sebastian added in his mind. He shrugged awkwardly and pushed the pen into his back pocket like he had been wanting to do that anyway.

"Yeah, there's not many places around that still sell sheet music, I guess. But hey, you write your own now, huh? So...you certainly don't need me - It! The store, I mean!"

Get a grip, he admonished himself, now is not the time to act like a school boy.

He cleared his throat. "More...browsing?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow at the slip and handed the signed sheets back to Sebastian. He cast a furtive glance towards the window and saw that the motorbikes were gone. His shoulders relaxed in relief and he smiled at Sebastian. "No, I think I'm done. Thank you."

Sebastian put on a smile hoping to cover up his disappointment, and put the sheets back into the folder.

"Well, if you need anything else, you know where to find me. Between the sheets." He winked at Kurt and congratulated himself on a good recovery. Maybe that line was the sole reason for the name of his store. It worked pretty often.

Kurt bit the inside of his cheek to hide a smirk and backed out of the store silently, almost bumping into a young woman carrying a Starbucks tray.

"Oh my god, I'm so sor-" she stammered, her eyes going wide as she looked at him.

"No problem, it was my fault," Kurt said holding the door for her. "Have a good day."

He closed the door behind her and walked off down the street.

"What was Kurt Hummel doing in our store?" Steph demanded of Sebastian as she walked towards the counter.

"Just browsing..." Sebastian said pensively, looking out onto the street in the direction Kurt had just left. Then he caught himself and straightened his back.

"You know, checking everything out," he added smugly.

Steph smirked and rolled her eyes. "Sure he was."

She shook her head and offered the tray of coffees to him and brandished a brown paper bag. "They'd run out of croissants so I got you a cinnamon swirl."

Sebastian sighed deeply. "It was Patrick at the counter, wasn't it? Ugh. I bet he stashed the croissants as he saw you coming. He hates me." He rolled his eyes a little at himself. "Maybe I should have returned his calls."

He grabbed the cinnamon swirl and bit into it. "I'll get us a refill in a bit and set things straight with him."

"You never set anything straight, Seb. Now tell me about Kurt."

Sebastian took a long sip of his coffee, enjoying making her wait. Her punishment for implying Kurt hadn't been checking him out, because he totallyhad.

"Well, he came in, looked around a bit - we checked each other out-" Sebastian stressed, "and then he signed a few of his own songs and left."

Steph almost dropped her coffee. "Wait - Kurt Hummel, the Kurt Hummel signed some of his own music? In our store?"

"Yeah, over there." Sebastian pointed at the shelf. "Hey, see if he wrote me down his phone number, will you?"

Steph rolled her eyes and walked over to the contemporary section. She flicked through the 'H' box until she found Hummel and pulled out the sheets.

She smirked. "Nope, no phone numbers. Just a few inspirational quotes."

"Well, that's kinda pretentious," Sebastian muttered, squashing his disappointment. "Defacing our merchandise and then leaving without buying anything."

He quietly finished his coffee while Steph went on and on about how amazing a singer Kurt Hummel was. Sebastian tried to tune her out. Maybe he should go see Patrick and hit him up for tonight.

"Another frappuccino then?"