Glue
Author's Note: OK, so while I'm supposed to be writing and updating my other fics, I'm actually writing this. Sorry about that. But after watching The First Time last night, I was distracted by just how much gel Blaine had in his hair! And then we had a PVA glue fight in class earlier, so I came home and wrote this…
Just so you know, my usual beta-reader, D. H. Spy, is not answering my messages, so this fic remains un-beta-d. Is that a word? So I hope it's OK.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story; they belong to Ryan Murphy and CP Coulter, but if I put them on my Christmas list, do you think I'll get them?
Blaine's alarm clock struck 2:07am just as two hooded figures slipped through the door, moved soundlessly across the room and crept into the en suite bathroom. Once the pair were safely inside, they switched on their flash lights and pulled down their hoods.
"Do you think he heard us?" Evan whispered.
"Nah, he sleeps like a log," Ethan said, switching his flashlight on and shining it over the counter top before failing to stifle a gasp.
"Whoa!" the Tweedles whispered in unison. And for good reason.
Walking into Blaine's bathroom was like walking down the hair gel aisle of a drug store. Bottles, jars and tubs of the stuff covered nearly every surface in the bathroom; Evan was pretty sure that if they opened the bathroom cabinet they would be met with a cascade of yet more gel. It was like a hair gel army.
The two boys took a few more moments to take in the scene, before remembering what they had come for.
"Now you know what we're looking for?" Evan asked. Ethan nodded, and immediately, they began; quickly unscrewing the lids from the hair gel containers, examining the consistence and colour, before quickly replacing the lids and putting the container in a large bag they had brought with them.
About 7 minutes into this, Evan removed the lid from a large blue tub of runny, white hair gel and smiled.
"Jackpot," he whispered, showing the gel to his twin.
"Great; leave it on the side while we take care of this lot," Ethan replied, indicating the stack of tubs that still lay on the counter top. Throwing the rest of the tubs in the bag, he picked up the blue tub of white hair gel, tipping its contents down the sink and rinsing it away quietly.
Pulling out a large bottle of PVA glue from his jacket, he filled the tub with the glue, (which, as planned, looked identical to the original gel), replaced the lid and left it on the counter. The Tweedles couldn't help but think that it looked a little lost without the rest of the many tubs, bottles and jars.
Pulling their hoods back over their faces, the twins switched off their flashlights and made their way back to their own room.
Blaine woke at 6:15 the next morning, rolling out of bed groggily. He was not a morning person.
So when he made his way to the bathroom just moments later, he was not pleased with what he saw. All of his hair gel was gone, except for one lone tub that remained in place. Blaine sighed. He knew that his hair gel addiction was probably getting out of control; but while he could handle the constant jokes about it, waking up and finding nearly all of it gone was an annoying but regular occurrence.
Blaine jumped in the shower, going over the suspects in his mind. Kurt – no way… Kurt had an important hair ritual of his own that he knew Blaine would target if he stole any of Blaine's gel. Reed – he definitely would've heard him tripping over something, Blaine thought to himself. This continued until Blaine stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. Wes, David and the Tweedles were all prime suspects.
Well, at least this time, there was still one tub left behind and thankfully, it was still full. Blaine scooped out some of the gel and began carefully applying it to his unruly curls.
There was a short knock on the door. "Come in!" Kurt called from where he was carrying out his vigorous moisturising routine.
Blaine walked in, carrying two cups of coffee, one of which he placed in front of Kurt. "Thanks," Kurt mumbled, not looking up from the mirror. "Hey, how many pages did you write for that essay Murdoch set us, because I think – BLAINE, WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR HAIR?"
Kurt had turned to ask Blaine a question, but had been momentarily distracted by Blaine's hair. It looked like Blaine had gelled his hair with… well, glue. It was sticking up in all the wrong places and just looked a complete mess.
"I know, it looks awful… I think someone swapped my hair gel for glue," Blaine mumbled miserably. "I didn't have any time to wash it out."
Kurt sipped his drink. "Wait, you sacrificed washing out glue from your hair so you could go and buy me coffee? You didn't have to do that," Kurt replied bashfully, looking at Blaine's troubled expression.
"Is everything OK, I heard shouting?" Reed tumbled out of the bathroom. His tie hung undone around his neck and his finger was wrapped in a tissue.
"Someone swapped Blaine's hair gel for glue," Kurt explained from where he was sat behind Blaine trying to loosen some of his cemented curls. "But what happened to you?" he asked, indicating Reed's tissue wrapped finger.
"I was cutting my nails when you shouted… it made me jump," Reed muttered, replacing the tissue with a plaster and doing up his tie.
Kurt apologized, before sighing and attempting to untangle his fingers from Blaine's sticky hair. "Ugh, this is no use, you're gonna have to wash it."
Blaine put his head in his hands, grumbling under his breath. "OK, I'll go and wash it out," he moaned, leaving the room and apparently bumping into the Tweedles on the way out.
"Nice hair, Blaine!" they chorused in unison.
"You guys are dead… I want my gel back."
Blaine disappeared down the corridor as the Tweedles walked into Kurt and Reed's room, where Kurt was rinsing his hands in the bathroom. "He will murder you, you know that?" Kurt added, drying his hands on the towel.
"We know. Still, at least we got pictures…"
Kurt looked wide eyed in shock at the Tweedles' identical grins. "No… you didn't…?"
"… and they were uploaded to Facebook about 15 minutes ago."
Laughing at the lengths that the Tweedles would go to just to get a few snaps of Blaine looking ridiculous, Kurt sat down on the bed.
"Are you not coming with us to breakfast?" Reed asked, joining the Tweedles at the door.
"No, I'm gonna wait for Blaine," Kurt replied, picking up one of his books and opening it.
"OK, we'll see you in a bit."
"Hey Kurt… Kurt?" Blaine whispered, gently waking the boy on the bed.
"Oh, hi," Kurt mumbled sleepily. "Must've fallen asleep. I was up until one in the morning writing my essay."
"C'mon, we've got class," Blaine said, running a hand through his hair. He had somehow managed to get all of the glue out of his hair, but due to his lack of product, his dark curls exploded all over the place.
"Whoa, Blaine, your hair… did you get all the glue out?"
Blaine grinned. "Yep. But the Tweedles still have all of my gel hidden somewhere; I'm sorry, it looks terrible."
"No, it looks fine… good, actually," Kurt stammered, blushing.
Blaine smiled. "Well I'm glad someone likes it."
Blaine held out his hand, pulling Kurt up, who was scheming ways of hiding Blaine's hair gel every morning, wondering why on earth he doused his beautiful curls with copious amounts of product every day.
"Come on. Class won't attend itself."
Lame ending, I know, so I'm sorry about that. I just wanted to get it posted ASAP. This is my first oneshot, so I'm unnaturally excited. *flailing* :D