AN- Alright, so maybe I was convinced to make this a not-one-shot. I'm not sure if the awks with Puck lived up to expecations, buuut I tried .
PS- I (thankfully) haven't been in the hospital too often, most definitely not in the past couple of years. I, therefore, am unclear about whether there are showers in the bathrooms attatched to the rooms. For the sake of this fic, I am saying there isn't.
There was another pause, just as awkward as the first. Or at least, it was to Blaine. He was pretty sure that he was blushing, and was thanking whatever chromosome it was that made him blush on the nearly invisible place on the back of his neck. However he knew Kurt wasn't so blessed. He'd seen the boy's face change into a large variety of reds and pinks before. And, in fact, at that rather blunt statement by his old Glee Club member he noticed Kurt's cheekbones were the healthy colour of a tomato. Well, at least one of them was. The other was marred by that goddamned black eye. And, to Blaine's delight, he was opening and closing his mouth multiple times. Like he didn't quite know how to respond. Which was a good sign, right? After all, Kurt always had a response. For everything.
Blaine also noticed the large grins that spread across Wes and David's faces and was quite annoyed and vaguely amused when they managed to simultaneously cross their arms over their chest and slowly turn to him with a raised brow. Finn was just giving Kurt that charming lopsided grin of his.
Puck was still waiting in the door frame, shifting that freakishly intimidating stare from Blaine to Kurt, adding a smug grin with it.
"If you don't say anything, I'm going to assume it's a yes," the mohawked boy warned him. "And if it's a yes then I get to give the "Break his heart than I break you" speech."
"Hey!" Finn cried indignantly. "I'm the step-brother here! I'm the one who gets to say that!"
Puck rolled his eyes. "Dude, we already agreed that I was the guy running the Secret Service while he was in town. Besides, if you were any more non-threatening, you'd be a gummy bear. "
Even though he'd only just met Finn, Blaine agreed. Finn was big, but more in that clumsy big-dog puppy kind of way. Puck was more of the rabid wolf meets tyrannosaurus-rex variety. Definitely not someone he would have wanted to poke with a stick. Not that he was in the habit of jabbing people with broken pieces of tree.
Puck stalked up to Blaine, who managed to keep his cool. Even thought the hellofalot-taller-than-him football player made him want to go back into the bathroom (To check on the sticky black mop on his head, of course. Not to hide. Duh.).
"Do you have sexual intentions towards my boy?" Puck asked lowly, glowering down at the Warbler. Blaine just stared, previous sense of chill disolved. Did he what now? He was pretty sure that his mouth was forming a response that was something along the lines of what he was thinking. Unfortunately that thought process happened to be,
"Uhhh—I, Uhhh—Ummm—Uhhh—"
"Calm your oxytocin, boys," Kurt inturrupted, raising his hands—well, hand and plaster cast— peaceably. "Blaine is a friend."
Without turning away, Puck added, "Do you have the intention to become 'more than friends' with Kurt?"
Fortunately, Blaine's thought process changed. It went from gibberish to "Yes, I would very much like to be 'more than friends' with Kurt."
Unfortunately, his mouth was still on the prior brainwave.
"Puck!" Kurt snapped, his voice cracking adorably. "Say one more ridiculous thing to him and I will castrate you."
Puck didn't respond. He just narrowed his eyes and jutted out his chin. He turned to Wes and David, but before he could say anything, they both quickly said,
"Girlfriends!"
Puck just glared for another few seconds before turning on his heel back towards the door. While his back was turned, Blaine gestured to the football player and gave Kurt a look of confusion, terror, and general whatthefuck-ery. Kurt just shook his head and waved him off.
"Finnocence," Puck called as he was half way out the door. "Let's go. I can hear your stomach from over here. You two," he added whirling around to look at Wes and David, who jumped and were suddenly sitting with ramrod straight backs. "Make sure Jim Morrison over there doesn't try anything funny. Or there will be hell to pay."
Finn just blinked at his friend before rising to leave.
"Text me if you want real food," he added to Kurt as he left, ignoring the injured boy's mumbles of how most of the things Finn qualified as edible weren't actually food.
As the door clicked shut gently behind him, yet another silence filled the room (Gee, that was happening a lot). Blaine was rather busy gaping at the door, and he was pretty sure that, if he checked, Wes and David would have similar wide-eyed looks of utter confusion.
"Does anyone know what just happened?" David asked slowly.
Kurt just shrugged. "Ignore him. Puck's poorly developed social skills are nothing to be afraid of. But I still advise not to cross him."
"Note taken," Blaine murmured, absentmindedly running another hand through his hair, only to wince when his hand came back covered in some more gel. Alright, that was it. If he was going to be doing this all day then he was not going to put up with it. He growled, "Kurt, I am stealing your sink. Find a way to get Wes and David to amuse you."
He turned back into the bathroom to a call of, "Good luck. But the sink's kind of stuck in the wall," from Kurt.
It took a bit of maneuvering, but Blaine managed to get his head close enough to the faucet to half stick his head under the tap and pour the water over the other half of his head with his hands. It took a bit of time to get all of the gel out, but by the time he dried his hair with the hand towel his hair was more or less back to the way it naturally was. Mind you, the curls were damp and just hanging there, but it was much more natural than having it plastered to his head. If truth be told, Blaine actually hated wearing his hair gelled down. It was a pain to do every morning and he liked his hair all bushy. But Dalton wasn't a mini-fro kind of school. So it was either gel it down or cut it off. And there was no way on this good earth that anyone was touching his hair with scissors.
When he stepped back out, he had another moment of complete shock. Seriously, this was the third or fourth time today. Was someone trying to give him a heart attack?
In the largest space of the room (which was between the window and the hospital bed) Wes was scowling at Kurt as the boy was instructing him through some kind of dance, much to the amusement of David. Wes was not a dancer. Plain and simple. The guy had rhythm, but it just didn't transfer anywhere past his mouth and vocal chords. Which was why the Warbler choreography was always so simple. Even though the council changed members often, Wes had pronounced himself as Head Choreographer Until The Day He Graduated. If anyone tried to say otherwise they were met with a glare that probably could actually kill someone if it tried. Therefore, simple 'dance steps'.
This, however, seemed much more elaborate than their usual "three steps to the left. Now turn and look at the audience", and Blaine was almost sorry to have missed it. And, to Blaine's added disappointment, the moment Wes had laid eyes on Blaine reentering he refused to do anything else, stating that Blaine's forced 'contract' was now null and void. The frustrated Warbler grabbed David by the back of his blaiser and dragged him from the room.
"Where're we going?" Wes' poor victim wondered, nearly tripping over the corner of the bed as he was dragged backwards.
"Somewhere that isn't here," was the growled response. Blaine barely heard David's worried mumble of, "What about Puck?" before they were out of the room.
Blaine cast Kurt a sideways glance and a raise eyebrow. A lopsided grin spread across his face when he saw Kurt staring now at his untamed hair (actually, he preferred the term 'free') with… was that approval? Or appreciation? Or was it affection? Or some other 'a' word that he couldn't think of at the moment, but was still definitely an awesome thing?
Blaine took a few more moments to drink in the 'a' look before breaking the silence.
"So what was that about?" He wondered as he strolled around to the chair that Finn had once occupied. Kurt seemed shocked back into reality and stared blankly at him for a few moments before his mind registered the question, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.
"What? Oh, I, uh," he said distractedly, "You, uh, you told me to get Wes and David to entertain me, so I did. I've never seen Wes dance before and thankfully he can be easy to easy to convince." He paused, pointing at Blaine's hair. "Is… is that what your hair actually looks like?"
Blaine grinned at his flusteredness, ruffling a hand through his damp curls and delighted to have his hand come away gel-free.
"Yup." He replied cheerily. "Well, sort of. It's a bit bigger. But water tends to deflate it."
"Why don't you leave it like that all the time?"
Blaine sighed with overdramatic longing, resting his arms on the side of the bed. "Because Dalton doesn't seem to appreciate the brilliance of the bed head look. Some nonsense about being 'proper and presentable young men'. Why, you like it?"
His grinned widened when Kurt nodded. Score one for genetics! He was pretty sure that if the voice in his head had a body it would be doing a victory dance. Hey, anything that could possibly label him as 'Kurt's Type' was definitely a plus. Even if it was his repressed mane.
Deciding to go somewhere with this that would hopefully get a few more hints, Blaine plucked an invisible microphone from thin air and 'spoke into it' with a very cheesy game-show-host voice.
"And what else would Mr. Kurt Hummel find that 'he liked' in a guy?"
Alright, so maybe he wasn't looking for hints so much as a detailed list of Kurt's interests. Complete with flow charts and diagrams. And maybe a picture or two. And he was starting to get bored with being 'subtle'.
Kurt blushed darker and looked away, choosing to become fascinated with a loose string on the blanket folded under him. Blaine was vibrating with both nerves and excitement. The awkward embarrassed looking away was definitely a good sign. Obviously it meant that Blaine was kindasortamaybe what he was looking for? Then again, that stupid other voice that he often wanted to somehow throw out of his head said, maybe he was awkward and embarrassed because Blaine wasn't his type and he didn't want to say so. Which didn't make much sense or have much impact on the other voice that dancing in circles.
He was about to pursue further when yet another of Kurt's friends decided to make an entrance.
"Hell naw. You are not trying to put the moves on my boy while he's in the hospital."