I.

The subway was not Kurt’s first choice of transportation. True, it had that New York-esque feel to it, and he certainly felt like a true citizen once he began walking down the steps with the rest of the people, but he would have preferred having his car with him, despite the fact that the traffic here would’ve given him daily bouts of horrible stress.

 Burt had decided that maybe Kurt’s fancy and expensive car didn’t need to accompany him to New York, at least, not yet. The apartment Kurt lived in—alone, unfortunately—wasn’t exactly the kind of place you’d want to park a fancy car, and what with Kurt’s tuition to think about, they couldn’t replace it if anything happened to it.

Kurt agreed to take public transportation. It wasn’t beneath him. He could survive in a crowded train every day for a few years, couldn’t he?

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he got himself a subway card. For a month. This would last him a while, right? He wasn’t really educated in the ways of New York yet.

Taking a major in Literature wasn’t something Burt expected of him. It wasn’t something anyone had really expected of him. Kurt had always loved reading, but to take it as a career? No, no one expected him, but when he took a few classes at community college, he found it impossible to stop. That’s why right now, the stack of paper’s in Kurt’s arms was almost too much for him. But he managed, like always.

The train itself wasn’t that bad. At this time, it wasn’t that crowded, but the seats were filled. Kurt settled for leaning his back on one of the poles, papers in his arms and praying that he could find a place where he could bind them before the week ended.

The pole was surely filthy, but Kurt didn’t—couldn’t—mind. Once he was settled, he took in his surroundings. It wasn’t that bad, actually. Besides the standing part, it wasn’t as rowdy as he imagined. Looking to his left, someone caught his eye.

It was a boy.

And by god, he was gorgeous.

Kurt bit his lip and looked away for a second, tightening his grip on the stack of papers he held to his chest. A cute guy with curly hair that was gelled up more than Mr. Schue’s had been. That wasn’t something you saw every day.

He snuck another look, leaning harder against the pole as the train rattled. A man flipped the page of a newspaper loudly on his right. The boy was reading a paperback, his thick eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Was he hallucinating or were his eyebrows actually triangular?

The boy must’ve felt his gaze on him, and because he looked up to meet Kurt’s eyes.

His eyes. Good god, they were so clear and so bright. Hazel.

Kurt bit his tongue and looked away, but not before he saw the boy stand up from his seat and offer it to Kurt.

Blushing lightly at the boy’s kindness, Kurt slowly moved from where he was standing to sit, watching as the boy moved to where he was, also leaning against the pole.

The boy pulled out a book and started reading as the train rattled.

Kurt smiled to himself, trying to block his face with his papers.

Okay, so maybe the subway wasn’t so bad.

II.

Kurt walked into the subway and next day, less papers in his hands but papers nonetheless. Despite the certain sternness in his professor’s voice, he knew he would enjoy the class. The professors who were the most serious about their craft were always the best to listen to.

Kurt stepped into the subway, his mind filled with the assigned readings he had started last night.

Who gives sixty-page reading assignments overnight? Kurt loved to read, sure, but he wasn’t that talented. Seemed much for a freshman, but he could do it. Just a bit of hard work, right?

Despite his determination to finish the reading, he had only reach page forty-six before he fell asleep all over his notes. Thankfully, he didn’t drool.

As got in, he took an empty seat and dumped his messenger bag in between his feet. Kurt fumbled over his readings and tried to find the last paragraph his brain had absorbed, but he made the mistake of looking up for one second.

Curls was sitting right across from him, still buried in the same book, with the same furrowed brows.

And still adorable.

Kurt sighed and looked down, saying it was just a coincidence and convinced himself to read. He could do it, couldn’t he? If that boy could read with all this rattling and movement, surely Kurt could.

No, Kurt, stop thinking about him.

He skimmed through a few lines of his notes, trying to absorb the information and trying to will his morning coffee to take effect.

All this on the first day? Must be some discussion, but Kurt knew never to underestimate what an admired professor could do with two hours.

Sudden movement caught his eye, and he looked up again. The boy was getting up. Was this his stop? No, there wasn’t a stop now. The train was moving.

He saw the woman standing next to him smile, and she took his seat. Curls smiled back.

Oh.

Why the hell didn’t Kurt smile at him yesterday?

The boy’s eyes crinkled at the sides and his teeth weren’t straight but they were so white and it made his eyes even brighter.

Kurt looked back at his notes. No, no distractions.

He should’ve known better than to look back up.

Their eyes met, and for a split second, Kurt could’ve sworn he saw a flash of recognition in the boy’s eyes. His eyebrows raised the slightest bit, before he broke away. Almost shyly.

Kurt didn’t look up for the rest of the trip.

IV.

Kurt didn’t see Curls yesterday, but he couldn’t stop thinking about that smile.

The boy’s teeth were far from the accepted standard of perfect. From where Kurt was sitting, he saw that they weren’t straight and that they weren’t evenly shaped and all that, but they were so bright and so white that Kurt couldn’t get the image out of his little head.

He thought that maybe if everyone in the world smiled like that, this miserable planet would be a happier place to live in.

He wasn’t carrying anything that day, having successfully stuffed everything into his messenger bag, which he had promptly put down in between his feet when the train doors closed.

Kurt had to admit, he was bit disappointed when he didn’t see the boy the previous day—so disappointed, in fact, that he spent the whole train ride texting about it with Rachel.

Kurt walked into the train, and stopped to survey his surroundings.

Well, he was here today.

This time, he didn’t have his book, which Kurt found strange. The book had been pretty thick, and Kurt’s sharp senses saw that the font was similar to those in the paperbacks he carried around—small and thinly spaced. Kurt contemplated over the possibly that this boy could be a very fast reader, despite having only known the guy for two days. (And really, he didn’t even know him. He just saw him on the train twice.)

To compensate for the lack of reading material, he saw bright purple earphones that lead down to a shiny pink iPod nano.

Pink? Purple? Really?

On a prepubescent girl, that colour combination would’ve been acceptable, but on this boy? He seemed like a perfectly normal, fashion forward boy who lived in New York, but with his fascination with exotic feathers, Kurt had no right to judge this boy for his choice of accessories. 

And he was tapping his feet and bobbing his head, most probably to the beat of the song he was listening to.

And there was an empty seat next to him.

Kurt resisted the smile that tug at his lips as he took the chance.

Of course, he didn’t sit right next to him. He sat a few inches away; far enough not to induce any sort of contact but close enough to let the world know that Kurt didn’t think he was disgusting or something.

Kurt took out his phone and started to make it look like he was busy texting.

Today, Curls was wearing a dark grey cardigan with red piping. It was cute, and it matched the red scarf that was around his neck.

For some reason, Kurt didn’t remember what the boy was wearing when he first saw him.

Either way, he liked his top. What confused him was what he was wearing with the top. Looking down as discreetly as possible, Kurt looked at the pair of black pants. They were too short for him. He was wearing black shiny leather dress shoes. And he wasn’t wearing socks.

Who doesn’t wear socks with dress shoes?

Who doesn’t wear socks in New York? In the fall?

Kurt shook his head and pretending to be smiling at his phone.

Curls got off two stops before his.

V.

This boy was starting to get onto Kurt’s nerves. Why? He wasn’t sure.

Maybe it was because neither of them had the balls to go and introduce himself to the other, or simply because of the possible fact that Curls was nothing more than a regular gentleman and wasn’t interested in Kurt.

Or maybe Kurt was annoyed at himself for thinking about him.

You barely know him, Kurt. In fact, you don’t know him at all. You haven’t talk to him. You’ve only made eye contact. What does that say?

Wasn’t a boy allowed to dream?

Kurt took his seat in front of the boy, who was once again listening to his iPod and staring into space. He had a tiny dopey smile on his face and his eyes were bright as ever.

Good god, he looked like the kind of guy you’d want to mug.

Kurt pulled out his own book and read. His first reading assignment of the semester; Antigone by Sophocles. It wasn’t really his type of book, but drama was what he loved. Plays weren’t much fun to read, Kurt believed. They were meant to be performed and the actor’s emotions were supposed to be part of the experience. Still, his teacher assigned it, so this student is reading it.

From the top of his book, Kurt watched Curls. Maybe for a second the guy could snap out of his dreamy state and notice Kurt. It was impossible that he hadn’t noticed him. He had seen a lot of fashionable young men on the train, but clearly none of them were Kurt Hummel.

Kurt didn’t expect him to, but he did. Those hazel eyes cleared for a second and he shook his head. He caught Kurt’s gaze and his eyebrows raised again. Kurt’s face was hidden behind the book, but the boy could clearly see his blue eyes.

Curls smiled.

It was so bright. So happy. So carefree. Kurt wondered how this guy survived in New York on his own.

Kurt’s breath hitched and he hid behind his book completely.

VII.

It’s been two days, and Kurt still couldn’t get the image of that smiling boy out of his head. Those teeth. Those eyes. Those eyebrows.

Those lips.

Kurt shook his head, completely and utterly disgusted at himself for having developed a crush on someone he hadn’t even met properly. He couldn’t blame himself, really. Someone that gorgeous wasn’t easy to come by.

Rachel had decided that they were soul mates and started trying to convince Kurt to initiate contact with the boy. Kurt rolled his eyes and just told her that, no, she was insane and he didn’t want to walk up to a stranger on the train and introduce himself.

The stack of papers he had today was once again, moderately thick. His more rigorous class was on Monday and as if the universe wanted to make that particular day of the week worse, it made sure that one class came with a lot of paper. Thing is, he had already read most of what was in these papers over the weekend but his teacher had a knack of scolding people who didn’t bring their notes. And sometimes he even kicked them out. That was the last thing Kurt wanted.

Despite the assignments, the weekend meant no school, and no school meant that Kurt didn’t have to take the subway. By extension, he didn’t see Curls. And to be honest, the moment he got on the subway that morning the first thing he did was look around.

He had a book again.

It was a different one. The first one had an old yellowing cover and this one was brand new, the pages still making a crisp sound as he turned a page. Hm. An avid reader. Not bad, Kurt thought.

Tearing his eyes away from the boy, he once again looked around, this time for a seat. There weren’t any, so he settled for standing against a pole, like he had on his first day.

Oh, had it already been a week?

Time flew, didn’t it?

Kurt sighed softly, holding the papers to his chest. The boy was too absorbed in his book to offer his seat to him this time, but he didn’t mind. A good book was always a good excuse.

As he was about try and take out his iPod, Kurt heard it.

It was soft, and barely audible over the train, but his sensitive ears heard it.

Curls had laughed.

Well, it was more of a small chuckle, really, but it was still a laugh. It was short, sweet and when Kurt looked, he saw a smile lingering on his face. It was adorable.

Looking back to the front of the train, Kurt smiled to himself.

VIII.

There were bags under Kurt’s eyes.

He’s not even two weeks into college and he already feels grossly unprepared for college life. McKinley schoolwork was nowhere near this laborious, and it didn’t require this much thinking considering that even a shred of intelligent analysis was enough to merit a student an A.

Sometimes public school sucked.

Curls wasn’t sitting today. He was standing straight, one hand gripping a pole by the door. There were vacant seats. Kurt eyed him for a second before sitting down in a place where he had a complete view of him.

Why was he standing?

His earphones were still as purple as ever and his foot was tapping to the beat of the song he was listening to. His black pants were still a couple inches too short. There was this small and content smile spread across his face, and Kurt thought it was one of the nicest things he’s seen so far.

Curls seemed happy. Genuinely happy, which Kurt couldn’t help but be jealous of. Sure, he loved his school and his classes and his friends, but things could be so much better. He wasn’t that happy.

Curls seemed to be.

Kurt watched him get off at his stop, with a spring in his step.

X.

Kurt didn’t take the subway yesterday. He was late and there was an empty and willing cab right outside his apartment so he splurged a bit and took it.

During that ride, all he could really think about was the pile of papers that his first professor would probably give him, and then occasionally worry about that quiz that his second professor was surely going to give.

He forgot about the hazel-eyed boy for a day.

Only a day.

When Kurt was sitting on the edge of his bed, putting on his socks, his mind wandered to the curly haired boy who, to his knowledge, never wore socks.  He glanced at the clock, to make sure that he got to the subway the same time as he usually did. Kurt was sure the only reason the two of them were always on the same train was their mutual punctuality.

Curls was already sitting, with a vacant seat right next to him. Kurt contemplated over sitting next to him for a moment, but as he was deciding, a little girl came and sat next to the boy. Kurt raised an eyebrow and then sat across from him.

He watched Curls and the kid.

The girl started talking to him. Kurt held his breath. Would he reply?

“Do you like my coat?” She said, smiling up at him. Kurt did his best to listen—to ignore the trains sounds and hope for a short glimpse at what his mysterious train boy’s voice sounded like.

Despite his obvious lack of height, which Kurt couldn’t really deny, the tiny girl had to crane her neck up to see him. Her coat was pink with little yellow dots all over. It was a button down and the hem stopped at her knee.

“Oh, yeah. That’s a pretty little coat you have there.” He said, and Kurt had to keep himself for swooning. His voice was deep and smooth and absolutely gorgeous. The sound of his voice was almost as amazing as the smile that spread across his face when he noticed her. It was just so genuinely excited that you’d think the little girl was sent from heaven.

She smiled back up at him. “Thank you!” She cried, trying to hug the boy with her tiny little arms, only to fall short. Curls put one arm loosely around her, awkwardly patting her back. Maybe he didn’t want people to think he was some sort of pedophile.

“My mommy says people always dress nice in New York.” Her blonde hair bounced as she did, overly excited at everything. This kid must be a tourist, Kurt thought. Curls kept smiling.

“Oh, I agree. Some of the people here have the prettiest clothes, though I can’t really speak for myself.” He gestured to his outfit, which today was a thinly striped green button down shirt with a forest green bow tie. With khaki pants that were once again much too short for him. “I know about as much about fashion as I know about quantum physics, which, in cast you don’t know, isn’t very much.” Curls joked. The little girl pursed her lips and nodded, her little cheeks becoming round.

Kurt smiled to himself. His sense of humour was endearing. Kurt wished for their conversation to last forever; his voice was extremely dreamy.

Before Kurt could look away, the girl’s eyes were on him.

“Your coat is pretty too!” She said, letting go of the other boy and skipping over to Kurt’s side of the train. She smiled at him and Kurt couldn’t help but smile back. For a millisecond, his eyes flicked back to Curls, who had this amused smile on his face. Kurt must’ve blushed pretty hard.

“Th-thank you,” Kurt said, smiling at the girl and marvelling over the carefree sparkle in her eyes. “Yours is pretty neat too. I love pink.” He said, pointing at her coat, “And I must say, the boots were a lovely touch. Quite an eye for fashion, you.” She giggled and whispered a thank you before walking back to her mother, who was seated a few feet away from him.

Kurt’s eyes went back to Curls, who looked at him for a second before chuckling and returning to his book. Kurt couldn’t place the look in his eyes, but he was positive it was something good.

That counts as the second time they’ve acknowledged each other’s existence.

XII.

Kurt couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of this boy, so during class, right after the encounter with the little girl, he made a list.

1. Physically attractive
2. Avid reader
3. Loves his music
4. Shamelessly taps his feet and walks in time to said music
5. Dreamy voice
6. Seems to have a good sense of humor
7. Was kind to a random little girl he met on the train
8. Smiled at me
9. Offered me a seat the first time I got on the subway.

Kurt examined the list, analysing each bullet and trying to recreate each moment in his head as perfectly and accurately as possible. His professor droned on about proper diction in spoken word poetry but Kurt stopped caring a while ago because this guy was completely by the book and he had read everything the night before.

How was this guy real? And why on earth did the universe have to dangle him in front of Kurt? It wasn’t like he could just go up to him and introduce himself, even though they’ve seen each other on the train for two week not. That would be weird. He needed something—an excuse to walk up to him and actually talk to him.

But what?

Two days later, as he sat and watched the boy read, he hoped for it.

The train ride was uneventful. Curls read his book and was absorbed in it that Kurt didn’t even bother to control his urge to stare, because he knew the boy would to be too busy reading to notice.

His curly hair which was once again subdued by vast amounts of gel. His jawline that was strong and the touch of stubble that suggested that he was either too lazy or forgot to shave that morning. The way the corners of his lips twitched as he read—as if he were about to laugh.

When Curls’ stop came, he was still reading. The sound of the doors opening jolted him out, and for a second he looked around, like a puppy that lost its owner. When he realized he had to get off, he practically jumped up and then ran out the door—feet almost slipping against the smooth floor of the train. Something small and rectangular flew out from his book as the doors closed. It floated in the air for a second before falling near Kurt’s feet.

It was a picture.

Kurt picked it up by the corners, and looked at it. There was a boy with his family on it. Undeniably him, with the bush of curls which sat atop his little head. He had a wide smile on and was sitting on the lap of a woman. She was beautiful, with bright brown eyes and brown skin and without a doubt, Kurt knew where Curls got his smile.

The man standing over them was pale, with hair that was already thinning and greying. Kurt suddenly felt envious of this family’s overall joy. Their smiles were all so bright and happiness radiated from the photograph.

Flipping it over, Kurt saw a message. It was written in blue ink and was in a smooth print.

“We miss you over here. Come to visit more often, okay? We demand tickets to your Broadway debut! Keep working hard, love. We know you’ll make us prouder than we already are. All the hugs, Mom and Dad.”

Kurt couldn’t suppress the smile. That added three new bits to his list.

10. Aspiring Broadway Star.
11. Implied singing and acting talent.
12. Beautiful relationship with parents.

Kurt carefully put the picture into his bag, pressing it in between the pages of the book he was currently reading. He was still smiling when he got off the train.