Edible flowers

Author's note: This is a part of Chapter 20 which I cut out (not wanting Greg's point of view in the final chapter). However, I really recommend reading this. It's short. If I continue on a side story about Blaine/Greg then look out for story titles that are used as dessert garnishes. I don't think I'll be writing any Blaine/Greg, but someone might request it as a present or something.

They sit in uncomfortable silence, and he knows he's to blame, but the guy is almost painfully eager. He wishes he had an excuse to go out, anything. Except Dave had taken him aside and asked. As a special favour. He'll never be able to deny that man anything, and keeping Blaine company today is a small thing.

"So, uh…what do you do now?" Blaine asks, and the tone of his voice makes him feel even worse. He sounds hesitant. Nervous. He's snapped at him several times already, and still the guy tries to make conversation. He sighs, consciously trying to relax and let go of his hang-ups regarding good looking guys.

"I'm a photographer. I…take photos." Fuck, he sounds like a condescending prick, but he can't help himself. He decides to just start talking, ignore the fact that all his instincts are telling him to be quiet. "I quit being a model and took time off to figure out what I enjoyed doing. Being behind the camera instead of in front of it…appealed to me. And I had developed an eye for it. I managed to fall into it and support myself through it, because of the contacts I had already made."

"What kind of photography do you do?"

"Landscapes. Mainly wineries." He wants to gesture to the enormous example of his work that's on the wall behind them, but stops himself, if only because he'd feel like he would be showing off.

"Oh. Do you enjoy it?"

"Yeah. I still get to travel a lot, but only when I want to. I've always liked travelling." He shrugs. He already knows what Blaine does. Had heard him talking about it at breakfast, and the impending move to London. The conversation stalls and he bites his lip, struggling to think of what he can ask. Silence reigns again.

"So how did you meet Dave?"

He almost sags with relief. He's never struggled so much to make conversation before, and he's rarely put in this type of social situation with no one else to talk to but a complete stranger.

"My brother used to work with him, so when I came here to stay with him he introduced us. My brother just assumed we'd have things in common because we were both gay…"

Blaine huffs in amusement, and it's starting to feel easier. At the least less awkward.

"Scary thing was we did have a lot in common. Once Dave actually agreed to go out with me and get to know me…"

"Yeah, I can't get my head around that. You and Dave Karofsky. That's just…"

"What do you mean?" Greg demands, suddenly wary and Blaine studies him with clear open eyes.

"Well, you're not exactly the same grade are you…?"

"I don't care about looks. They've never been important to me."

"I think that's a nice ideology, but our society is still ridiculously fixated on looks."

"You think I don't know that? Coming from the field I used to work in?"

"Of course. It's the same with Kurt's profession. I think you misunderstood me, I definitely think Dave is good looking. Definitely attractive. Confident. I just wouldn't have put him in the same league as you. It's like comparing homemade apple pie with…I don't know, restaurant grade chocolate mousse."

Greg raises his eyebrows, not quite sure how he's meant to feel about being compared to a dessert.

"I'd prefer apple pie," he mutters, feeling decidedly petulant.

Blaine shrugs and smiles good-naturedly, and Greg feels slightly more relaxed, no longer feeling as wary.

"Dessert's dessert. They're all good in my book."