This one actually broke the 2,000 word barrier. I'm excited. :D
I hope that I'm not the only one that wants to see Blaine without a helmet of hair gel.
I really don't have much else to say. Enjoy?

Disclaimer: Hi, name's Casey. I don't own Glee, but I do own a penguin pillow pet! (:

When Kurt misses his daily moisturizing routine, it upsets him. When Kurt is overshadowed by a certain Rachel Berry, it upsets him. But when Kurt is woken up in the middle of the night by his phone going off, regardless of who just so happens to be calling him, it really upsets him.

Maybe that's the reason that he answers with a very impatient and annoyed, "Whaddaya want?" But all that Kurt can hear on the other end is his name being called again and again. After about the eighth time, Kurt's brain begins adequately functioning, and registers the sound of a seemingly distressed Blaine Anderson on the line.

"Kurt? Kurt, are you there? KURT!"

The boy in question winces at the volume of Blaine's voice.

"Blaine," Kurt hisses into his phone, glancing toward the hopefully-still-sleeping silhouette of his roommate, Thad, "Be quiet. You're going to wake up the whole building."

Kurt waits with unbelievable patience until the boy is completely silent before continuing, "Now, I would really like to know why you're calling me at..." he stretches to peer at his clock, "...3:17 in the morning?"

"Well, I had to go to the bathroom really badly-"

"Oh my Gaga, you peed yourself."

"-and then...wait, what? No!"

"Not so loud!" Kurt shushes him as he looks toward Thad once more.

Blaine repeats himself in a whisper, "No."

"Then why, Blaine?"

"Okay. I went to the bathroom, washed my hands, and I looked over and my hair gel was gone. All of it. Gone."

Kurt blinks in disbelief, "What?"

"I know! It's...it's tragic." Blaine sounds honestly heartbroken.

"You-" Kurt shakes his head, "you interrupted my beauty sleep because you can't find your hair gel? Are you serious?"

"But Kurt, this is bad. Very bad."

"And why is that?"

"My hair is going to be a nightmare."

"You'll be fine, Blaine."

"No I won't! You don't understand, I need my-" Blaine's desperate and pleading voice is cut off by Kurt disconnecting the call. He quietly places his phone on the table next to his bed and sinks back into his pillow lazily. Kurt feels a little bad about hanging up on his best friend, but sleep consumes him long before guilt even has the chance.

The next day, Kurt strides through the seas of matching Dalton uniforms (another thing that upsets him) to his French class that he sits by Baline in. His excruciatingly dapper friend is always to class before Kurt, sitting with perfect posture as he waits for class to begin. Every single day. Blaine baffles Kurt. It's like he's not even human, but rather an alien robot that was engineered to be perfect and flawless.

Kurt sighs, sitting next to him, and turns to ask if he survived the hair gel fiasco without too many injuries.

Except Blaine isn't there.

Kurt furrows his perfectly manicured eyebrows at the empty chair beside him. Was he just really early today? He turns in his chair and scans the room, seeing everyone else that was meant to be in class talking amongst themselves.

Maybe Blaine's just running late. Kurt thinks to himself as he eyes the door, expecting the boy to appear at any second.

When the bell rings and Blaine still hasn't shown, Kurt finds himself worrying. He soon discovers that he's not the only one who is concerned. Jeff, seated behind him, taps him on the shoulder, and begins motioning at the empty seat with a questioning gaze when Kurt turns around. He shoots Jeff an apologetic glance and shrugs, facing the front once more. Even Madame Bouvier seems taken aback by his absence.

Careful to not be seen, Kurt pulls out his phone.

Blaine, where are you? -K

The reply came within seconds.

In my bed. :( -B

:( Sick? -K

Erm...kinda. -B

? -K

This time, Blaine's response isn't immediate. Kurt half-listens to Madame Bouvier's lesson, but mainly attempts what it could mean to be "kinda sick", and how it was keeping Blaine from class. After all, Kurt has heard from Wes and David that Blaine attended all of his classes last year with the flu until they had forced him to go and see the nurse.

Well, I look terrible. -B

Kurt involuntarily scoffs at the message. There's no way that Blaine, the flawless robot boy, could ever look terrible. Ever.

"Qu'est-ce qui est si drôle, Monsieur Hummel?" Madame Bouvier's voice cuts abruptly cuts through his thoughts. (1)

"Rien. Je suis désolé, il ne se reproduira pas." Kurt quickly responds in perfect French, hiding his phone in the sleeve of his blazer. (2)

She eyes him for a moment, "Je vous remercie." (3)

Kurt forces himself to pay attention for the next couple of mintues, until his teacher stops firing suspicious glares throughout the lecture. Once he's certain that he's safe, he types out a response.

Because you're sick? -K

Not exactly. -B

That's when the answer dawns on him.

Did you ever find your hair gel? -K

No. :( Do you know where it is? :) -B

You aren't in class because your hair isn't gelled back. -K

... -B

Seriously? This is golden. :D -K

Kurt! D: -B

I'm sure it's not that bad. -K

Ohhh, but it is. :'( -B

Bad enough to skip? -K

Ummm... -B

Why don't I just come and see for myself? -K

OH PLEASE NO. -B

Kurt is thankful that the bell rings at that particular moment, allowing him to release a light giggle building in the back of his throat.

"Hey, Kurt!" He looks up from his phone to see Wes waving him over, looking serious.

Kurt froens and walks to the other side of the room, "What is it?"

"Do you know what's wrong with Blaine?"

Deciding that it's a good idea to avoid supplying Wes with any blackmail, he replies, "No. I was actually about to run up to his dorm to check on him. I have study hall this period."

"Ah. Good." Wes nods, and begins to turn away, when his eyes rapidly dart back to Kurt, "I, uh...I wish you luck."

Before Kurt can even think to ask what that means, Wes joins the crowd of blazers shuffling through the hall. He pushes the conversation to the back of his mind and heads in the direction of the junior dorms, his messenger bag perched on his shoulder.

When he knocks and Blaine's door and recieves no response, he honestly isn't surprised. So he knocks louder and more forcefully.

Blaine groans in exasperation, "Oh my God, Wes. Go away!"

"I'm offended, Blaine." Kurt snickers and opens the door. When his glasz eyes flash from the ground to the agitated boy, he is met with a pair of startled hazel ones, and...

"...Wow." Kurt breathes out, taking in the sight before him. Blaine is in his uniform pants and dress shirt, the first few buttons undone on the latter. That isn't what really catches Kurt offguard, however. Once he manages to tear his eyes away from the soloist's somewhat exposed torso, he sees Blaine's face-blushing face, Kurt notes-framed by a mass of dark and thick-looking curls.

Blaine turns an even deeper crimson color under Kurt's gaze, but chuckles, "Terrible, right?"

It is only then that Kurt realizes that yeah, he's kinda awkwardly staring at Blaine. He glances down at his uniform shoes quickly, praying that Blaine doesn't notice the blush creeping across his face.

"I knew it." Blaine's voice is drenched with embarrassment. Kurt's eyes shoot back up, in an effort to meet the other boy's, but sees that he has found a sudden interest in the floorboards.

"Blaine, look at me."

He does.

"You're being completely ridiculous. You look amazing."

"You..." He's beaming at Kurt now, "You think so? Really?"

"Yeah," Kurt feels his face heat up, "I do. I think you should leave it ungelled more often. It's absolutely dreadful for your hair anyway. I don't even know why-"

He stops when he registers that Blaine is still staring at him, an almost sheepish smile decorating his features.

"What?"

Blaine bites his lip and looks away for a moment, "Nothing. I just..." He glimpses back at Kurt, "I'm kind of surprised that you like it."

The corners of Kurt's mouth turn upward, "Oh. Right. I...okay." He hastily casts his eyes back to his shoes, when something grabs his attention.

"Blaine?"

"Yes?"

"Look under your bed."

Kurt smirks as he watches confusion coat the other boy's face as he follows the order anyway.

"I don't under-MY HAIR GEL!" Kurt giggles as Blaine retrieves it and holds it close to him, as if reuniting with a long lost friend.

"I guess I found the cure to your, um," he coughs, "sickness."

Blaine grins, "Yes, sir!"

Kurt laughs, "Well, I have study hall to go to. So I suppose I'll leave you to it."

"Oh," Blaine tries to hide his abrupt disappointment, "Right! Yeah...sounds good."

He nods, and Kurt takes it as his cue to leave. Blaine merely stands and lets his gaze follow the taller boy as he steps into the Dalton hallway and lightly closes the door behind him. He glances at the various bottles of hair products in his arms and tosses them onto his bed after a moment of contemplation, smiling to himself.

Kurt always sits by Blaine at lunch. Always. And now that his best friend had recovered his pointless gel, he figures that there should be no reason that things will be any different today.

So he is genuinely surprised-and disappointed-when Blaine never shows.

By the time Warblers rehearsal rolls around, Kurt is in quite the sour mood. He has yet to see Blaine since the two were in his dorm room, which puzzles him. He has no reason to skip.

Not that he had any reason to begin with, but that was beside the point.

"Warbler Kurt!" Wes calls upon him in his formal, council voice.

His reply comes quickly and quietly, "Yes?"

"Do you know where Warbler Blaine is?"

Before Kurt can respond, he hears the double doors burst open, a voice accompanying the sound soon after, "Right here. Sorry I'm late."

All of the Warblers turn to see their lead soloist standing before them, calm and composed. Blaine locks eyes with Kurt and fights the smile that threatens to show at the sight of his perplexed face.

Wes sighs from the council table, "Just don't let it happen again." With that, he bangs his gavel as a finalization of his words. Blaine nods and sits next to Kurt, who is attempting not to gawk at him.

Blaine turns to him and whispers, "Hi."

"You-hair-it-your...curly." Kurt sputters, He closes his eyes and takes a breath, "Your hair is curly."

"Yes."

"But I thought..." Kurt glances back at him, "Your hair gel?"

"You said you liked it like this." Blaine spoke as if he had just supplied the most obvious explanation in the world.

Kurt can't hide the confusion in his voice, "Well, yeah. But-"

"And if you like it, then..." Blaine averts his gaze as he feels the blush sneaking up his neck, "Well. Then it must be good. So I kept this curly mess."

"Because of me?" Kurt doesn't even try to bite back the smile that he knows is coming on.

Blaine chuckles quietly and beams back, "Yeah, because of you."

"Aw, shucks." Kurt playfully nudges him and he immediately follows suit, both boys oblivious to the fact that everyone else in the room is now staring at them.

At least until Wes banged his gavel again and obnoxiously cleared his throat, "Listen, as much I hate interrupting your oh so adorable flirting, we have a rehearsal going on right now."

Kurt and Blaine both instantly turn bright red and go silent, staring at the ground with embarrassment. Wes rolls his eyes in return, proceeding to drone on about changing setlists that had been completed over a week ago.

Less than a minute into the monologue, Kurt feels a soft brushing against his fingertips. He glances to his left to see a very hesitant looking Blaine peering at him. Kurt bites his lip and pretends to consider the wordless offer for a moment, before smirking and giving in, linking pinky fingers with the grinning, curly-haired boy beside him.

(1) "What's so funny, Mr. Hummel?"
(2) "Nothing. Sorry, it won't happen again."
(3) "Thank you."
Please excuse my French! (;
Seriously though. I pulled it from Google Translate, and I have no idea if it's right.

Review? I'll love you forever and ever. Until we die.