A/N : Hello all! I'm sorry for a long wait, but here I am with my first story up and running (yipee!)! So this was my very, very, very first oneshot. I hope you all like it! (PS, I did chapter fics before this, so I hope it makes sense). I would love reviews!

Oneshot, Removing the Hair Gel

"N-uh! Sorry Blaine. You've got gel on your hair! I could totally smell it!" " C'mon!" Santana interrupted Brittany and pulled her away as she was telling Blaine he couldn't go to the Prom. He was completely terrified. "You can do this!" Kurt gave moral support. Blaine looked at Kurt one last time, then left for the Men's Room.

"Great." he muttered to himself. He put his blazer aside, folded up his long-sleeved polo, until his elbows, and when he put his hand on the faucet knob, he thought.

"Why would I do this to myself? But I won't be able to go in the Prom and dance with Kurt. But I can just sneak in!, right? I mean, its not like she can actually smell it. But she just said-Ugh, oh well, this will be my moment of truth." and he activated the faucet.

As he washes his hair, suddenly something cold hits his neck. As it drops on the sink, he suddendly realizes. Slushie. He was hit on the neck, by a slushie, during prom. That was bad.

"Aww, fag number two can't get in the Prom!" Rick said. Blaine continued on washing his hair, and washing off the slush. "So, just gonna stick here, Rick? Because I would hate it to see you miss your prom, to just not be crowned as prom king, you know." Blaine said. "Oh yeah faggy bitch? Try me." Rick said. Blaine just continued washing his hair.

"You know what, it is worthless dumping your head in the toilet, because you're already, wet." Rick said. "But I'd like to make you even more wet, not your head, but your darling faggy polo-" "Oh shut up Rick. Just get back to your LAST prom, and cherish it?" Blaine said. Right before Rick landed a kick on Blaine's right leg, Blaine did a half-split. So Rick ended up hurting himself. "Okay, you win! You win!" Rick said, and left the men's room, covering his gentle areas.

Five more minutes passed, and he was finished washing off all the gel. He was hearing the finishing of an instrumental. He then headed for the tissue station to partially dry his hair. As he dried his hair, he thought "Damn, I didn't get to slow dance with Kurt. I'll bring him to my place then, and we'll slow dance in my room. Hopefully others won't find out."

He then headed for the hand-dryer. He put his head under it and dried it. Then Will came in. "Oh, hi Blaine. Brittany's hair gel ban, huh?" he said. "Yeah. I think I even missed slowdancing with Kurt. That sucks. Well I hope he's enjoying the prom." Blaine said. Will's heart sank at the message.

"You know what, I think your hair is dry enough." Will said, and got a paper towel. "Here..." Will said, and trying to be a supportive teacher. He used the paper towel to dry Blaine's hair. "Thanks Mr. Schue. Youre the best." Blaine said. Will smiled back, and left the room.

He then hesitated. 'With the amount of balloons in there, I'll get static, for sure! Oh god.". He fluffed down his very fluffy curly hair. He then thought to put very little hair gel, but he stopped himself. He then unfolded his folded sleeves, and put on his blazer. "Courage." he muttered to himself. He reached for the doorknob, breathing in, then out, and left the men's room.

Then all the drama happened. The whispering, looking, amazement. Blaine was ashamed of himself. Then came Kurt and Brittany. 'Oh god, what am I doing to myself!?' He thought. "Okay Blaine, since your hair is like, that, I give you permission to wear hairgel!" Brittany says, and as she leaves "Excuse me Kurt," "No, I like it. I love it. I love you, my brave, bushy-haired, boyfriend." Kurt interrupted Blaine. "Youre the best Kurt." Blaine said.

He then starts kissing Kurt's neck, then traces up to his mouth, to stop Kurt from squealing. Right when he is very near his lips, Kurt grips his hand and says "C'mon! They're gonna announce Prom King and Queen!" and he pulls Blaine. "Whoa-who-" and he was running by the time he was able to process what was happening.