My 1st story here so some info
1. This is not Blaine friendly, so if you like that character do not read
2. Harry is 33, Kurt is 19 so, again, if that squicks you do not read
3. Harry is a wizard, Kurt is the son of a squib (his mother being the squib), and for the purposes of this fic, when a squib or the non-magical child of a squib (no matter the gender of the squib/offspring) has intercoures with a wizard, he/she can get pregnant.
4. When I get to the smut it will be Top and mildly dominant Harry, and Bottom Kurt (and a very slutty Kurt for Harry)
If you are fine with all of the above, please continue on to the fic.
The first thing Rachel says about him is: "I don't trust him, he looks like he's hiding something."
Santana scares him, she really does. Not in the 'going Lima Heights Adjacent' (is he the only one who recalls her father is a Dr and that there is no such thing or place as Lima Heights Adjacent?), but in that she tends to say what he is thinking. As in, "Berry, please. Everyone in New York is hiding something."
"Mainly, who they were in favor of who they hope to be." Kurt finishes the sentence and gets a look that tells him, in another world (one where blue eye shadow, Taylor Swift, and knitted golf shirts were outlawed) the two of them could be friends.
To be fair to Rachel, and he tries, she is off men ever since the Brody thing (Kurt knew that man was too comfortable getting naked for it to be normal). That doesn't mean he still doesn't want to slap both of his roomies: Rachel for letting Finn 'rescue' her, and Santana for calling in a man for back up. Surely the Latina was independent and fierce enough not to need to do that. Live and learn, but in his heart of hearts he's disappointed in Ms. Lopez for that one.
But that is a subject for another time, maybe when the first trimester is over (and hopefully the accompanying morning sickness with it, 1 bathroom + 3 roomies, 1 of whom hurls each morning is not a good combo). At this moment in time Renaissance man (the name Kurt has given him in his head) is looking at him expectantly.
"Do not make me go all Lima Heights on you Hummel. That is a fine piece of man meat, go for it." He glares at her, to no avail. "From what he's packing, he'll get that stick out of your ass and put a bigger one in it's place." With a sigh that could pass for encouragement coming from her, she adds, "Not a theatre geek either."
Kurt would agree with the last observation (and the first one as well, the man fills out his denims very well, especially the front) He's had that impression for months now. Not that they've ever talked. They walked.
The first time it happened was over the Holidays. Still reeling from his father's news and 'gift' (and why hadn't he told his Dad the reason for the break up? Oh, right. He's a masochist, obviously), he'd gotten on the subway and just rode till he found himself at the Northern most tip of Manhattan. Then he'd walked until he found Cloisters.
Later, when having lunch with Isabelle and finding she was looking for unusual locations for a photo-shoot, he'd kept quite. For some reason he wanted to keep Cloisters unspoiled and separate from the rest of his worlds.
Walking around the collections and grounds he felt at peace; his emotions and thoughts no longer roiling. That was when he noticed the man, taller than him, mid to late twenties, handsome, even with the scar. And blessedly quiet.
They passed each other a couple of times that morning, the final round they nodded and smiled at each other.
The next Sunday found both of them there again. And the next. And the next. The fourth Sunday, when they were walking in the gardens and Kurt paused to admire (and gasp at) the Hyacinths in the snow, the man handed him a cup of coffee. Not strictly allowed but no one was there to see and it was welcome.
Kurt brought the coffee the next weekend. From then on it became a routine part of his weekend, one he looked forward too; walking the grounds together in companionable silence.
It should have felt odd, or scary. This was Manhattan, the man could be a perv or violent, but Kurt didn't get that sense about him. His instinct (Kurt's father would have called it his 'gut') told him he was safe with this man. Something about the way he carried himself, easy and confident but ready to defend if needed, or maybe that was just Kurt's imagination. But he trusted the older man not to hurt him.
But, still, seeing him in one of mid-towns many coffee shops instead of at the Metropolitan's Renaissance collection, was a bit startling. And to his surprise, welcoming, as well. He and Adam were stuck in first. Kurt was over Blaine, mostly, it was just hard to give up on that romantic dream even if it had no basis in reality. But he knew he had to if he wanted to find a new dream to take it's place. And then there was Adam, sweet lovely Adam who he felt something for, but couldn't define what. Adam who said "Maybe you should try dating a few other people, myself included, just a thought"
No pressure, and aside from Burt when was the last time anyone had wanted what was best for him, even if it meant losing him? And still he couldn't get past something that wasn't there with Adam, or not there yet. So, he'd take Adam's and Santana's advice.
Leaving his roomies, he strode over to the table, and smiled as a chair was pulled out for him. "Only polite' and the man was British as well. Nice. Once seated, a hand was offered to him, with a smile and a introduction. "I'm Harry by the way. Harry Potter."