Kurt and Blaine are the intellectual property of Ryan Murphy and Fox.
Kurt's ears rang with the sound of New York traffic and the angry screams of pedestrians and drivers alike, the wetness of the pavement seeping in through the sleeves of his pea coat and the legs of his pants. He was only half aware of the stinging pain in his palms and the throbbing pain in his head as he opened his eyes to survey his surroundings. He could make out two cars, one t-boned by the other, about twenty feet away from him. Smoke leaked from the hood of one of them and both drivers were yelling frantically at each other, while a woman paced up and down the sidewalk behind them, talking quickly into her cellphone.
Groaning, Kurt struggled to recall why he was lying in the middle of the street, and what exactly had happened before that. He remembered leaving his apartment that morning, running late for an exam, and sprinting as fast as he could in the direction of the subway. Once he'd made it to the stop closest to campus, he jogged across one of the crosswalks…and then everything went fuzzy.
Pulling his sore arms underneath him, Kurt attempted to get up on his feet when he registered a heavy weight on top of him. He froze when the weight shifted, and suddenly it all came rushing back to him. A car had run a red light, almost crashing into him at full speed, when someone shouted from behind him and a dense force rammed into him and threw him to the other side of the road. He remembered hearing the sound of tires squeaking and a large crash, most likely the car slamming into another one as it swerved to miss him. He must have hit his head after that. 'That would explain the ringing. And the headache. And the nausea,' he thought absently.
The weight on top of him moved again, and Kurt looked up to see a face right above his. A male face. And a very attractive one at that. Or at least, he thought it was attractive. It was a bit hard to tell when his world was spinning.
"Are you-" the face above him began, pausing to catch his breath. "Are you okay?"
Kurt heard the question, but was having trouble getting his brain to connect with his mouth. Now that his vision was starting to clear, he could safely say that this guy really was incredibly good-looking. He'd never been so close to someone so handsome in his life. His hair was almost black, and even though it was gelled back, Kurt could see that some of his curls had fallen loose in the midst of their little tumble, plastered to the side of his face by the rain. He wasn't clean shaven, but he wasn't too scruffy either, and his concerned, worried looking eyes were the most gorgeous shade of hazel he'd ever seen. Looking down at his full lips, Kurt noticed that they were moving, talking to him, but he couldn't hear anything for the buzzing noise in his ears.
"-ey. Hey!" the face yelled, and Kurt winced as the noise sent a shooting pain through his pulsing head. "Hey, can you hear me? You need to go to the hospital, what's your name?"
Kurt continued to stare at him, obviously awestruck. "You…." he groaned, finally finding his voice. "You saved my life."
The concerned look on the man's face melted briefly into a smile. "You'll have plenty of time to thank me later. Right now I'm pretty sure you have a concussion you should get looked at and-"
Kurt brought his hand up to his savior's face before he could stop himself, feeling the course texture of his stubble on his scraped-up palm. "You pushed me out of the way….you saved me."
The man laughed, gingerly pulling Kurt's injured hand away from his face. "Oh yeah, definitely a concussion."
The wailing sound of an ambulance siren pierced Kurt's delicate ears, and he wondered momentarily if the woman on the sidewalk had been calling 911. Then suddenly, without any warning, Kurt felt himself being lifted up by his mysterious knight in shining armor. His stomach heaved from the motion and he wrapped an arm around himself in an attempt to keep his breakfast down.
"Woah, sorry, sorry," the man apologized, rubbing his back soothingly as he placed Kurt in a sitting position. "I didn't mean to rattle you."
Kurt took a few slow, calming breaths, and his stomach gradually began to settle. The sirens sounded slightly closer now than they did before.
"Can you tell me your name?" the man asked again.
Looking up at him, he muttered "Kurt," before losing himself in the man's sympathetic eyes again. Maybe he really did have a concussion. He'd never felt quite so light and airy before.
"Well, Kurt, I wish we could have met under better circumstances." He picked up Kurt's limp, uninjured hand and shook it lightly. "I'm Blaine."
"Blaine…" Kurt repeated. It was a nice name, and it felt so nice to say. When the ambulance finally did arrive, and Kurt was being loaded onto a stretcher, he found himself wishing he'd had the presence of mind to ask for the man's last name.
Kurt was released from the hospital the next day with a prescription for some wonderfully helpful pain medication and instructions to lay low for the next couple of days. He hadn't seen Blaine since his ride to the hospital, and it felt a little weird to him that the man who saved his life would probably forever remain a stranger to him.
A couple of days later, while Kurt was curled up on his couch watching a rerun of America's Next Top Model, he heard an unexpected knock on his door. Confused, since he hadn't invited anyone over or ordered out, he made his way over to the entrance and fiddled with the locks in an attempt to open it. Finally succeeding, he cracked the door open a ways to see who it was.
"Blaine?" he asked, bewildered, opening the door the rest of the way. "What…how-"
"I noticed we went to the same school," Blaine explained, gesturing to the backpack sitting next to the front door. "We even have the same keychain on our bags that they hand out during orientation. I, uh…looked up your name in the directory, and just wanted to see how you were doing, if you were okay and everything."
Kurt must have looked extremely confused, because Blaine continued to explain himself, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand as he did so. "It just felt weird, you know? Meeting someone like that and then never seeing them again. Maybe that sounds stupid, but-"
"No, no, not at all," Kurt assured him, a smile gracing his face. "I know exactly what you mean. And thank you again, by the way. I wish I could do something for you too. Sorry seems like such a silly thing to say in this situation."
"Well," Blaine said, dropping his hand back to his side. "Maybe we could go out sometime and get to know each other? You know, now that I won't be full of adrenaline and you won't be loopy with a head injury and stroking my face."
"Oh God," Kurt cringed, one of his hands flying to his forehead. "I'm so so sorry, I must have seemed completely ridiculous." Blaine just laughed, and Kurt turned bright pink.
"Don't worry about it, really. It was cute."
Kurt laughed lightly, his hand dropping away to rub his forearm nervously, still feeling incredibly foolish.
"So…is it date?" Blaine asked hesitantly.
"Yeah. Yeah sure," Kurt nodded, smiling again. "Does Thursday at 7 sound okay for you?"
"Yeah, that's great," Blaine agreed. "I'll meet you here then?"
Kurt nodded.
"Awesome. It was nice to officially meet you Kurt…"
"Hummel," he finished, holding out his hand. Blaine slid his hand in Kurt's and shook it and grinned.
"Blaine Anderson," he returned.
Kurt rolled the name around in his head long after Blaine had left, along with the feeling of Blaine's hand in his, the way his voice sounded now that it wasn't muffled by the falling rain and the sounds of shouting newyorkers, the way his face scrunched up when he laughed. Plopping back down on his couch with a smile on his face, Kurt couldn't help but feel like that runaway car had started the beginning of something wonderful.
