This popped into my head and wouldn't leave.
For anyone who reads SLS, I apologize for the lack of posting. I'll do better, I promise.
I got the smidge of French off of Google Translate, so.

This is AU, in which Kurt and Blaine have always been at McKinley. And merely best friends. (ha.)

Disclaimer: I just want to own Kurt and Blaine. But alas.

The first one was on his locker.

A little, neon yellow square stuck right in the center of his bright red locker.

A Post-it Note.

Curious, he peels it off and stares at it.

He reads, in a handwriting that he doesn't even remotely recognize: You look amazing today.

Looking more closely, he realizes that it is addressed to him.

There's no signature.

Strange.

He smiles to himself and folds the neon yellow paper square in half, slipping it into his pocket and grabbing his things for his math class.

The second one was waiting on his desk in Calculus.

He first spots it from the doorway, florescent green this time.

Quietly, he sets his things down and glances at the note.

His name is scrawled across the top in bold Sharpie strokes.

You're like a song, the way you're always stuck in my head.

He very nearly scoffs at the utter cheesiness of it.

Opening his textbook, he hastily stores the second note with the first.

He finds the third one on his locker once more.

He quirks an eyebrow.

In messy cursive, he reads, You're adorable.

He glances around him, desperately searching for a suspicious face in the sea of students.

Nothing.

He begins to wonder if some kind of trick is being played on him.

The fourth note was stuck to the inside cover of his French textbook.

Votre voix est incroyable. (Your voice is incredible.)

He stares at the pink sqaure, confused.

He figures that it was placed there when Rachel had called him over to talk about songs fit for that week's Glee assignment.

What a sneaky little-

The sound of his teacher clearing her throat startles him.

She's staring impatiently at him.

"Sorry. Here."

He doesn't pay attention for the rest of class.

The next note was right where he had expected it to be.

Stuck in the dead center of his locker door.

He peels it off carefully.

And then there's your eyes. I can't even begin to describe them.

He briefly smiles at the message, but he finds himself focused more on the handwriting.

It's familiar, but...

The one minute warning bell rings.

He'll have to think about it later.

He's one of the last people to arrive to his social studies class.

After brushing off the cold glare he was recieving from the substitute teacher, he quickly shuffles toward his seat.

Sure enough, a bright blue Post-it note is waiting for him.

He almost laughs.

This was getting ridiculous.

Your smile is gorgeous, too.

He rolls his eyes, grinning nonetheless.

He spends his lunch period alone, his friends all having other obligations and deciding to skip.

He doesn't mind all too much.

It gives him plenty of time to study his notes.

All six of them have nothing in common, except that they were all written in Sharpie, on Post-it notes.

No two handwritings are even vaguely similar to each other.

He groans to himself, and takes a quick swig from his water bottle.

He was never going to find out who was behind this.

Santana taps him on the shoulder as he's making his way to his AP English class.

"I'm supposed to give these to you. Here," she coldly forces the two notes, one yellow, one orange, into his grasp.

There's something playing in her eyes, though. Underneath the indifferent expression.

He shakes it off as she walks away, and looks in his hands.

The first reads, Make a detour to the bathroom at some point. Then look on the right hand side of the last soap dispenser.

He raises his eyebrows at the bizarre request, but moves on to the second note.

Are you from Tennessee?

He stares for a moment, narrowing his eyes.

He curiousity gets the best of him, and he pivots and strides toward the men's room.

Part of him still feels as though he's being set up.

An equal part of him is oddly at ease with the notes.

He shakes himself of his thoughts and steps through the bathroom door.

It's empty.

He releases a breath that he hadn't been aware of holding.

Just as promised, there is a neon Post-it stuck to the right hand side of the last soap dispenser.

Because you're the only ten I see.

A pick up line. Of course.

He actually laughs out loud this time.

His little detour leaves him tardy for English.

But as he accepts the slip of paper from Mrs. Lawson, he realizes that he's too giddy to even begin to care.

As he's walking toward his Chemistry class, he's hit with a sudden thought.

The end of the school day is approaching.

He didn't have long to figure this out, or else he wouldn't be able to sleep that night.

Maybe whoever was behind all of this would reveal themself.

A rush of anxiety and excitement takes him over for a moment at the idea, and he has to pull himself out of his own head before he enters the classroom.

He has to read the pink Post-it note left on his desk four times before he fully registers the words.

You are so much better than Lima, Ohio.

To say that he ran to the choir room for Glee rehearsal would only be a slight understatement.

Glee was the last chance he had to make sense of all of this for the day.

He planned on interrogating Santana to no end.

He planned on enlisting as much help as he possibly could.

He had to find out.

He was going to go insane if he didn't.

But as he slips into the room, something catches his eye.

A little, neon yellow square stuck to his normal seat.

He snorts and steps toward it.

It's then that he notices that everyone is watching him.

And they all have identical knowing smiles on their faces.

They all know.

A surge of nerves builds in his chest, and he picks up what he discovers is a stack of notes.

Holding them in quivering hands, he slowly reads each one.

This is the last set.

You might have noticed that all of these notes were written in different handwriting.

Everyone in Glee helped me out with this.

Even Finn, although, he took some convincing.

I hope that these didn't freak you out too badly.

It didn't occur to me how creepy this might seem until around fifth period.

But I had to do it.

You inspire me every single day. You...move me.

And, as cheesy as it sounds, I feel like I've been looking for you forever.

Turn around?

With wide eyes and a rapidly pounding heart, he turns.

He gasps at what he sees.

Before him stands his best friend, grinning hopefully. He has a small, green square attached to his cardigan.

I love you, Kurt Hummel.

"Blaine, I..." Kurt feels himself tearing up, but he can't find it in him to care.

Blaine's face falls at the sight, "Kurt, oh god, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"No," Kurt cuts him off. "Happy tears."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh," Kurt breathes out a laugh. "I love you too, Blaine Anderson."

And then their lips meet for the first time.

And it's sweet and hesitant and beautiful and Kurt had ever dreamed of a first kiss being.

When they break apart, their eyes are glowing and they're both smiling so much that their faces are hurting and their friends are making inappropriate catcalls.

And it's perfect.

Mr. Schuester's voice snaps them back into reality, and they quickly scramble to their seats.

Kurt watches Blaine out of the corner of his eye as he peels a fresh Post-it note off of the large stack he has on hand. He scribbles something down quickly. When the Glee instructor isn't looking, he passes it to him.

Your lips are delicious.

Kurt flushes and shoots a playful glare, "Dork."

Blaine flashes him a cheeky grin, "But you love me."

But he does.

And it's mutual.

And what a noteworthy thought that was.

The smile doesn't leave Kurt's face for the rest of the day.

And there you are! Hope you enjoyed.
I'll try to post a chapter of SLS tomorrow, so stay tuned!

- Casey (: