A/N: Yeah, so, this idea hit me like a tidalwave, screaming, WRITE ME, WRIIIIIITE MEEEEE!

So here I am, appeasing the plotbunny.

Damn you, plotbunny! I'm supposed to be writing more oneshots for the LVB/U! D:

Anyway, for those who know me, you all can guess the pairing. But I'm still only listing this fic as "Kurt H." because there will be a few plot twists and hints of other pairings as well, just to keep ya'll guessing. Because who knows, maybe I'll change my mind. ;D

Sneaky sneaky. C;

This fanfic won't be very long, however. So don't expect too much, okay?

Hey, did anyone else notice that they kinda failed to mention whether or not Dalton is a boarding school or not? I know it's private, but I assume it must not be boarding, since I don't remember hearing anything about dorms. Although on Google Maps, when my sister and I jokingly searched 'Lima, OH' and 'Dalton, OH,' they looked pretty far apart. So I dunno. :/

This is AU after the Christmas special episode, since that one was the last for a while (there's a hiatus that's supposed to last until about February, I heard. Wahh. I dislike hiatuses for TV shows; makes me have withdrawals. D: )

[Long author's note is long.]

Enjoy~!

Part I

It's not a date Kurt easily forgets. He stares at the calendar blankly, trying to sort out his thoughts. In red, three dates thus far this month have been circled: the fourth, the fifteenth, and the twenty-third.

Kurt smoothes his hair with one hand, blowing air out his mouth. He doesn't understand it. He's been getting random objects for a few weeks now, on scattered days, in unpredictable places.

The first object, sent to him on the fourth of December, was wrapped in white tissue paper and stuck to his front door. Finn had found it, and said it was addressed to Kurt. He handed his stepbrother the object, and Kurt had stared at it until Finn had asked, "Well, aren't you going to open it?"

Inside, there was a single head of a red rose, a little black around the edges from the cold, but stunning nonetheless. There was no note, save for the tag around the top of the tissue bundle, signed in typed text, "To Kurt."

Finn grinned at the time, laughing. "Looks like you've got a secret admirer," he remarked smugly.

Kurt had blushed and huffed, "I highly doubt one rose constitutes as the sign of a secret admirer. I'll wait to see if anything else shows up before I jump to that conclusion."

But it happened again. And then again. Next on the fifteenth, and then on the twenty-third.

On the fifteenth, there came a Harry Potter knitted scarf, Ravenclaw-colored, with a note that said once again in typed text, "To Kurt, because I owe you one, and thought you'd like something from those books you read."

On the twenty-third, there was a small black box on the hood of Kurt's car, a large red bow tacked onto its lid. It had snowed early this morning, so the person must have just been and gone. Inside the box was a new cell phone, and a typed note that read, "I heard your old iPhone broke, and you hadn't gotten a new one. So here's my old one. It unlocks with your birthday, since I thought that'd be easy for you. The phone number for this phone, so you can share it with other, is in the contacts list, along with a single contact: me. I have it set up to text only. Merry Christmas, Kurt."

And now it's the day after Christmas, and Kurt is left glancing between the calendar and this last gift, wondering whether or not to use the number, to text the person who keeps leaving him things.

He decides to try it out. Anonymous people annoy him, since Kurt likes knowing what's going on and who he's talking to, but it's also a little thrilling, so with a quick blur of moving thumbs, Kurt unlocks the phone, opens a new text to his first contact (he's long since added his family and shared with them the news of this person's thoughtfulness). He says simply, 'Thank you for the gifts.'

Not ten minutes later, the phone blips in Kurt's pocket. He takes it out, and finds the message, 'I take it that means you liked them.'

Smiling a bit, Kurt replies, 'Yes, actually. They were thoughtful, and giving me your phone was very kind of you. But hey, what can I call you? The contact you gave for yourself only says, 'Your Stalker.' As true as that is, it sounds creepy.'

'Why change it if it's the truth? Secret admirers ARE creepy, in case you haven't noticed.' The mysterious person replies, and Kurt rolls his eyes.

'Nevertheless, I would like to dwindle the possibilities. Can I at least know an initial? Or your gender?' Kurt texts, wondering if this person is a girl who somehow doesn't know that Kurt is gay.

'I'm surprised you're not asking how I know where you live, or why I didn't give you anything at your locker or desk at school,' the other replies, sounding amused. Another text pops up before Kurt can reply. 'And if you must know, I am a guy, and since I'm admiring you, you know what that implies. And as for an initial… you can call be B.'

B.? Kurt thinks to himself. His hopes soar in his chest, making his heart flutter. That could mean Blaine! Does this mean Blaine is courting him? That's so sweet, Kurt muses with a short giggle. Excited now, he texts back, 'Alright, B. It's nice to finally meet another gay guy in Lima besides myself. Which reminds me: you mentioned school. Do you know me from McKinley? Or do you attend Dalton?'

There is a long pause in the chain of texts, and for a moment, Kurt worries that B. feels as though he's been figured out, and doesn't want to respond. But soon enough, a reply comes. 'Yes, I know you from school,' is all it says. No hint whether or not this person knows Kurt from McKinley or Dalton, and it's a tad disappointing.

'Well, whoever you are, it's flattering. I look forward to any other surprises you have in store for me.'

The guy seems content with this, because the last thing he texts is, 'Oh, there's much more, don't you worry. I'm going to take my time, though. And eventually, maybe I'll let you know who I am. But for now, I'll simply say goodnight.'

Blushing minutely, Kurt tucks his phone away, a single text sent back to his admirer, returning the statement. And on that note, Kurt readies himself for bed.