Kurt walked into the laundry mat, once again cursing their luck that they couldn’t yet afford a proper washer and dryer of their own. Most other people he knew went out on a Saturday and did things. Not Kurt though, Saturdays were the only days Kurt could devote to proper clothing care. This wasn’t the closest laundry mat to him, no, he had to take a cab the several blocks to get here, but it was worth it. Not only was it clean and offered free wifi, served fairly decent coffee, but the view was spectacular.

Admittedly, the space itself left much to be desired; windows facing a busy street with nothing notable outside them, the walls were a off white (though clearly from age and not due to color choice), the music over the radio was several decades out of date and sounded tinny over the speakers. But, there was The Boy. Kurt didn’t know his name, hadn’t even spoken to him, but he was there every Saturday as well, and so Kurt was too.

In all Kurt’s dreams of New York, two stood out, Broadway and dating. His Broadway dreams were now a faint memory, after failing to gain acceptance into NYADA but moving here anyways with Rachel, Kurt snagged a job as an intern at Vogue.com, and a new dream was born. Yes, he still longed to perform and enjoyed singing, but he loved his job. After a year with the company, he was now a fully-fledged employee, and making contacts for his own designs. His boss Isabelle was fantastic and encouraging, which helped.

While Kurt’s career was flourishing, his love life was just as stagnant as it had been in Ohio. He just didn’t meet people. Most guys he met at work were either straight, taken or too old. Rachel wasn’t much help, the only guy she brought around from NYADA was Brody who was painfully straight; great to look at but he was only interested in Rachel. She claimed that no one in her classes was right for him, which he supposed he couldn’t blame her for wanting to protect him, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t lonely. Kurt wasn’t one to go out to clubs (he wouldn’t even if he was of age) and he didn’t know where else to meet guys. So, every Saturday he came to the laundry mat and watched The Boy, though he was careful not to get caught.

The Boy looked to be around his age, with black curly hair, that usually was slicked back against his head, although there were a couple of times he came in sans gel, looking decidedly uncomfortable with that fact. His smile was bright, so much so it made Kurt’s heart leap. And his eyes… he had the most beautiful expressive hazel eyes Kurt had ever seen. He was breathtaking.

Kurt wasn’t sure yet it The Boy was gay. It wasn’t something you just approached a stranger and asked, even in New York. He did however enjoy analyzing the contents of his laundry as he neatly folded each article (that in and of itself put a big check mark in the gay column). After several months of close observation, Kurt had concluded that The Boy was either gay or a hipster, either way he was kind of a dork. Most people in the laundry mat were in their ‘wash day clothes’, although Kurt himself still used every moment to be as put together and fashionable as possible. The Boy, however, was always a surprise. Some days he would come in wearing a neat button up, sweater and slacks. Others he would be in ratty (but sinfully tight) jeans and a t-shirt. The shirts ranged from comic book characters to movies and sometimes just a nice plain fitted shirt.

This particular Saturday, Kurt made his way over to the bank of washers on the far wall. He was just placing the first load (presorted of course) in one machine, when he saw The Boy walk in and begin working at a machine a few down. Kurt kept his gaze firmly on the job he was doing.

“I love your hair.” The Boy said. Kurt was turning the knob on the machine to the proper setting so he wasn’t sure if he heard right. He couldn’t have heard right. Who says that to a total stranger?

Kurt looked up thoroughly confused. “What?”

“I…uh… I love the… air…” The Boy stumbled over his words. It was all Kurt could do not to laugh at the embarrassed look on The Boy’s face, so he looked away down to his basket at the next load he needed to put in. He faintly heard a groan coming from next to him. Maybe, just maybe The Boy was gay, maybe he had been watching Kurt all these months as well. Kurt was just trying to think of a way to ease The Boy’s embarrassment and actually talk to him when what sounded like a keyboard began to play.

Kurt looked over at The Boy who had his phone out, which was playing an unfamiliar staccato melody. Kurt was about to ask what the music was when the unthinkable happened. The Boy opened his mouth to sing.

Laundry day
See you there
Underthings
Tumbling

The Boy was looking right at Kurt, a sheepish smile on his face. Kurt was frozen to the spot, not sure if his brain could process what was happening to him. A man, no, The Boy, was serenading him, in the middle of a laundry mat.

Want to say
Love your hair
Here I go
Mumbling

With my freeze ray
I will stop the world

Then Kurt laughed, he couldn’t help it. Here was this amazingly handsome boy singing to him… about freeze rays. It was the most surreal experience of Kurt Hummel’s life. Kurt continued to listen to The Boy sing, the words sweet, but dorky all at the same time. He had no idea where in the world this song came from but it was… endearing, at least coming from The Boy, who looked so open and hopeful. His eyes never left Kurt, even as he lifted himself to sit on top of the washer Kurt had just started. As soon as it began the song was over.

With my freeze ray I will stop -

Kurt stood in stunned silence for a moment before clapping. He knew he must be a sight, his cheeks pink from the blush he could feel on his cheeks and an uncontainable smile on his face. The Boy dropped his head, a small laugh hitching his shoulders as he shook his head. A few other patrons joined in the clapping, most looking perplexed at what had just occur, others looking for a camera sure this was a stunt for a TV show.

“I’m Kurt,” he finally said holding out his hand. “I was actually just about to introduce myself before you started singing.”

The Boy’s face reddened even further. “Oh my god, don’t tell me that. You mean I didn’t have to make a fool of myself to finally get to talk to you?”

“Finally?” Kurt asked unable to hold in his mischievous grin.

The Boy rubbed the back of his neck, “I’ve seen you every Saturday for months. I told myself I had to talk to you today and what comes out, ‘I love your hair?’ I don’t think I have ever felt so stupid in my life… but then it made me think of Dr. Horrible and really how many times in your life do you get to sing a Dr. Horrible song and it fit.”

Kurt cocked his head to the side, he understood every word The Boy used, but it made no sense. “I have never heard of Dr. Horrible. Are they a band or…”

An excitement lit The Boy’s eyes, “No, it’s this really great web series, it has Neil Patrick Harris, you should really watch it sometime.”

Kurt decided to be bold, he was finally talking to The Boy (though he just wish he knew his name) so he might as well put it out there. The worse that would happen is he would have to find a new Laundry mat. “Maybe you could show me one day.” He told The Boy.

The Boy looked shocked, but a clearly pleased expression crossed his face. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” He seemed to remember something then, “I’m Blaine by the way. It’s nice to finally meet you Kurt.”

Kurt took his hand to shake, and it felt like things finally fell into place. A shiver ran down Kurt’s spine and he could no longer contain a smile bigger than any that could have graced it in years. When their hands, finally released, he said, “How about we finish starting our loads, then I can buy you a coffee and we can talk.”

“Alright.” Blaine said before hopping down and returning to his own laundry. As Kurt loaded his third and final load into the machine, he could have sworn he saw Blaine doing a happy dance out of the corner of his eye. Yes, it seemed Blaine was a dork, but he was indeed a gorgeous one.