The locker-room at McKinley has never been Kurt Hummel's domain (obviously.) To be fair, no one really likes the smell of jockstraps and sweaty socks. But in his tenure as team kicker, Kurt has quietly and stealthily turned it into a far more hospitable and comfortable place to spend time. More day spa and less dung heap, he tells Mercedes. It's not as hard as he expects, sneaking in air fresheners and bath mats, and leaving spare bottles of deodorant lying around as a gentle reminder of the rules of hygiene. But it's not the general odour and dirty 'feel' of the place that irritates Kurt most, it's the conversation, or lack thereof. Football players (ones that aren't lithe and fashionably immaculate) talk about three things; sex, boobs and beer. These discussions are enough to drive Kurt completely insane, they are inane and a complete waste of time, which is why he has begun tuning them out and putting his time to better use. JockChat' time is now Kurt-Mentally-Goes-Through-His-Amazing-Wardrobe-And-Plans-Suitably-Amazing-Outfits…Time. He's quite proud of his own initiative and time management skills, even buying himself a new scarf to celebrate the occasion.

It's a stifling hot day and Kurt claims a stomach ache in order to leave practice early, hoping to avoid the excess stench that comes on hot days. As he exits the shower he figures he has 15 minutes before the rest of the team join him in the locker room, so he sits and casually begins his post-training facial treatment. The voices bounce off the walls, obnoxious sound filling the previously silent room and Kurt sighs, and he was so close to believing he was in an actual day spa. As if Finn and Puck would ever set a foot in Kurt's personal heaven. He keeps his eyes closed, the old mantra of "If I can't see you, you can't see me!" echoing in his mind as Puck's voice echoes around him.

"Like those Lizards that change colour"

"Huh?" (Definitely Finn)

"Y'know, they change colour so they can hide n'shit"

"Chameleons"

Kurt doesn't know why he interjects, he certainly doesn't know why Puck thinks whomping him on the back is an appropriate measure of gratitude.

"Right! Her eyes are like a chameleon!" He announces to Finn, as if this is in some (any) way a logical statement. Kurt considers responding, his new scarf needs to be paired with some shoes, but he should at least try to have a conversation with the love of his life and his lover's best friend; he inhales deeply

"Some poor girl has the eyes of a lizard?"

He braces, still unsure of his position in Puck's eyes. A recent lack of daily dumpster dives does not necessarily mean instant Bffs. Puck appears to size Kurt up, but shakes his head in frustration.

"No, like, her eyes change colour like a Camelot"

"Chameleon"

"Chameleon. Whatever."

Finn's own, non-reptilian eyes have grown as wide as dinner plates, his face skewed into a mix of confusion and what Kurt thinks is dawning comprehension.

"Do they go red when she's angry? Like a mood ring?"

Maybe not.

Puck, who himself was just confusing animals with Arthurian legends, now looks at Finn like he's the idiot.

"No dude, they're blue all the time but different shades, sometimes they're dark and inky-"

"Like St. Mary's football uniforms!"

"Yeah, but other times they're really light, like the days with no clouds."

Kurt watches his teammates in surprise, scattered throughout the boneheaded comments, he's almost picking up an underlying current of emotional maturity, or at least actual feelings! His mind races with thoughts of actual conversations and maybe even, god willing, trips to an actual day spa. He hates the term metrosexual but with some grooming and moulding, Kurt might have to reschedule his wardrobe planning time.

"So she's hot?" Finn's voice breaks through Kurt's reverie as Puck smirks,

"Oh Yeah. Her cans are rockin'"

Kurt sighs and begins to think of scarves and how it was nice while it lasted.