Author's Note: This is a one-shot awarded to brewers23 for writing the 400th review about my multichapter fic "Weave Your Magic". I hope you like it, sweetie :-)
Free Hugs
Kurt wasn't much given to cursing, but now he did. At length. And loudly.
His class had run late, and as a consequence, he'd missed his bus to the train station, leaving him no other option than to walk there.
It was raining cats and dogs, and a violent gust of wind had ruined his umbrella. By the time he reached the train station, he was soaked through and his perfectly styled hair was reduced to a flat mess that made his bangs flop into his eyes annoyingly.
To top all that off, a taxi had just driven past him at full speed, hitting a puddle and splashing muddy water all over his new Marc Jacobs pants.
He shivered and hurried towards the station entrance, thinking longingly of coffee and maybe a bagel to go with it, as he'd had to skip lunch because he had a tutoring session with a freshman. His stomach rumbled in agreement with these thoughts, but he wouldn't have the time. His train was scheduled to leave in four minutes exactly, on platform twelve, so he had to run all the way through the station.
When he'd nearly reached the furthest platforms, gracefully weaving through the crowd, a hurried traveller going in the opposite direction bumped into him with such force that they both lost their balance and fell. Kurt's head hit the wall with a thud, and with a cry, he dropped his calfskin briefcase onto the floor. Apparently, he hadn't closed the clasp properly, because it opened all by itself and spilled its contents.
Oh, great, now I'll certainly miss my train.
Before he could even start picking up his books and papers, people were already stomping all over them, and it was all he could do not to cry in frustration.
He scrambled around on his hands and knees retrieving his belongings and trying not to get stepped on in the process.
And then he saw someone else's hand pick up the last of his books and dust it off carefully before handing it to him.
He took the book with a quiet murmur of "Thank you" and put it back into his briefcase, closing the clasp carefully until it gave a satisfyingly loud click.
Then he looked at the man who had helped him. It wasn't the person who'd run into him. No. That one had yelled a few choice insults at him before running off again full tilt. The man crouching next to Kurt didn't seem to be in a hurry at all. He smiled at Kurt, got up smoothly and then held out his hand to help Kurt up as well.
Kurt smiled back tentatively and took the hand to get up.
"Thank you," he repeated. "Thank you so much."
"You're welcome," said the helpful stranger, smiling sunnily at him again.
He was slightly shorter than Kurt, and seemed about the same age. His dark hair fell in messy curls around his face, and his eyelashes could make any woman weep in envy. His eyes were a warm mixture of green and gold and brown, like a sun-dappled forest on a late August afternoon. His raincoat hung open, showing an outfit in a mix of bright colours that would have looked horribly mismatched on anybody else but strangely worked for him. And he was wearing a bow tie. A bow tie!
Their eyes met again, and Mr Helpful raised an eyebrow playfully, sporting an amused expression. Kurt realised he'd been blatantly checking the man out, and felt a blush creeping up his face.
"Well?" asked Mr Helpful. "Do I pass muster?"
He twirled around for good measure, and then winked at Kurt.
Kurt's blush intensified. He bit his lip, and then decided to go along with it. "Well, I like your shoes, though I would wear socks with them. And red is definitely your colour. Is that cardigan vintage? It looks like it's vintage."
Mr Helpful's smile broadened. "Yes, it is. There's this quirky little thrift shop a few streets from here where I love to browse from time to time, and sometimes, I find real treasures."
"I know exactly what shop you mean!" Kurt exclaimed excitedly. "I'm Kurt, by the way. Thanks for helping me out. I was in such a hurry and now I missed my train after all."
"My name's Blaine. I'm sorry you missed your train."
"Pleased to meet you, Blaine, even if it isn't under the best circumstances."
They shook hands.
"So …" Blaine trailed off uncertainly.
"Yes?" Kurt prodded.
"So you have some time to kill now?" Blaine asked. "When's your next train?"
"In about an hour and a half," answered Kurt. "Which is good, because I'm starving. I didn't have time for lunch. It hasn't been a very good day so far. I got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, and it's grown steadily worse from there. Murphy's law, I guess. That Murphy deserves a firm talking to."
"I know just what you mean," sighed Blaine. "My day wasn't exactly a picnic either. That's why I'm here."
Blaine dug into his backpack and produced a big cardboard sign. He unfolded it and showed it to Kurt with a triumphant "Ta-da!"
The sign said "FREE HUGS" in big messy block letters.
"Free hugs?" asked Kurt, puzzled.
"When I've had a bad day, I come here to the station, I stand at the entrance and I offer free hugs to everyone who comes in or goes out. It's free cuddle therapy, and it makes me feel a million times better. You should join me and try it!"
Kurt laughed. "People actually come up to you and hug you?"
Blaine nodded enthusiastically. "They do. They come right at me and hug me as if I were a long-lost relative. It's the best feeling in the world!"
Kurt pursed his lips consideringly. "Can I eat something first? I'm really hungry."
Blaine grinned widely and nodded, bouncing on his heels in excitement.
They went to the Subway sandwich store in the station, and Kurt bought them both a cup of coffee - "Consider this a thank-you for helping me out" - and himself a turkey breast sandwich, which he devoured in mere minutes, without paying any attention to table manners or to his companion.
"Wow," grinned Blaine. "You really were hungry."
Kurt flushed and nodded sheepishly.
"Hey, that's okay," Blaine reassured him.
They drank their coffee in slow, measured sips, as they talked about the less than stellar day they'd had, and then discussed the latest issue of Vogue.
When they'd finished every last drop, Blaine jumped up. "Shall we?"
Kurt let out a small sigh and got up. "Lead the way."
They stood in the entrance to the train station, the cardboard sign in between them, and inviting smiles on their faces. And sure enough, people did come for a hug.
Lots of them were teenage girls who giggled before, during and after, batting their eyelashes at Kurt and Blaine.
There were elderly people as well, who hugged Kurt fiercely and sent him a blazing smile afterwards that tugged at his heartstrings.
There were little children who came bouncing up excitedly, tugging at their parents' sleeves: "Can I? Can I, please?" When Kurt crouched to wrap them into a hug, they hurtled into his arms and hugged him tightly.
But some huggers were people Kurt would never have expected to want a hug. He hugged a tall man with spiky black hair, tattoos and piercings, who looked like a crossing between a vampire and a rock star, and winked at him before he sauntered off.
He also hugged a man who looked like a super model, with piercing green eyes and a confident smirk. He felt him slide a business card into his back trouser pocket. "Call me if you want to do more than just hug me, killer!"
And he hugged harried-looking business men and women, whom he would have expected to completely ignore him and Blaine and hurry through the doors, yet they stopped, and really hugged him, sagging against him in relief, the tension seeping out of them instantly. Brief as the hugs were, they continued on their way looking much happier.
He could feel his mood lighten with every hug he gave and received. Blaine was definitely onto something. Hugging was magic.
I am so doing this again!
After a long while, when the crowd had dwindled to a trickle, Blaine whispered to him: "Don't you have a train to catch?"
Kurt checked his watch, and Blaine was right. He had to hurry if he wanted to make it to the platform on time. The question was: did he want to?
"I changed my mind," Kurt whispered back. "I'm not going home today. I'll send my dad a text to expect me tomorrow."
He grabbed his phone and started composing a text.
He could feel Blaine watching him intently, so he looked up. "What's the matter?"
"So what are your plans for tonight?" Blaine asked, looking curious and hopeful at the same time.
"I don't know yet," admitted Kurt, "but … I hope they include you."
Blaine beamed, and then carefully folded the cardboard sign in half again to tuck it into his backpack. "Whatever you want to do, I'm all yours."
Kurt gave him a happy grin and then opened his arms wide. "Well, you could start by giving me a hug."