Blaine rested his forehead against the shower wall, Tuesday afternoon. He stood under the shower and really, just stood there. He felt the droplets of water cascading down his back. He listened to the serene sound of the water splashing as it fell to the shower floor.

Taking showers were always relaxing for Blaine. He could push all his problems away and just be. He'd sing his vocal chords out in there, too. It was nearly as comforting as driving on his bike was.

Blaine had a mental list of things he could turn to when he felt like getting away from the world for a while. He could ride his bike. He could shower until his skin looked like it belonged to that old lady across the street whose cats were larger in number than his bowties, and that wassaying something.

He also had the room.

This particular room was left with no purpose when they had finished unpacking upon moving houses in his Junior year. Initially, he had set to transfer to McKinley at that time but couldn't pluck up the courage to do so. He and his parents had already moved to Lima by then.

The room was bare bar a narrow desk and a chair Blaine loved to spin around on or glide across the room with. Three windows allowed natural light to blanket the room with warmth and brightness. There was a sturdy wooden door on the left side upon entering which led to a walk-in closet that now contained an abundance of paint.

The walls were imprinted with writings. Musical compositions, to be precise. Blaine would stay in this room for hours and write music on the walls. He wrote as the ideas came to him. Sometimes he wrote with thick markers. In other circumstances, he cleans his hand, dips it into a can of paint, and uses it as his makeshift paintbrush.

One would think it looked messy and ugly. Blaine preferred to call it art, for art it was. He writes a note where he writes it for a reason. He makes certain things bigger, some smaller, some just the right size, for a reason. Every touch, every stroke, every dab of color, every splash of life, piece together to create one beautiful masterpiece.

He would stay in this room for hours on end. Blaine would squint his eyes at the walls and stare. A note that seemed like it didn't belong with the other notes, a splash of paint that seemed like it wasn't meant to be splashed on the wall, they all counted.

Sometimes he felt like those little details. He doesn't want to call them mistakes. They remind him of himself quite a lot. He wasn't afraid to break the norm. He wasn't afraid to be who he was. And, just so, those quirks added up to create a tremendous piece of art; himself.

He heard what seemed like a buzzing noise and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He then heard the cute little jingle his phone emitted whenever someone was calling him. He took one final breath, ceased the water from running, wrapped a towel loosely around his waist, and stepped out of the shower into the steam-filled atmosphere of his bathroom.

He rummaged in his clothing hamper for his jeans in which he must've left his phone in. He felt the familiar weight in his hand and pulled out his arm from the pile of dirty laundry. With hair still damp and body still slightly wet from his lengthy shower, he answers the call and holds the phone by his ear. David starts frantically speaking on the end of the line.

"Blaine, something happened and you have to go to the hospital now. The halls were crowded and everyone was rushing and Sebastian h-he–"David said. He didn't usually act like this manner.

"Whoa, slow down! Sebastian? The hospital? What has that idiot been up to now?" Blaine questioned, startled. At first glance, one wouldn't think of Sebastian as the crazy type. He had to be if he were friends with those group of misfits. Once Sebastian set his mind to accomplish something, he accomplished it.

His incorrigible determination has led him into many situations Blaine couldn't fathom. He had never gotten anyone hospitalized though, which was why Blaine was frantic about the situation at hand.

"No, Blaine, Sebastian hasn't done anything! He was chasing this Charlie guy and everyone was going to their respective classrooms and h-he probably didn't see where he was going and he tripped and fell down one of the staircases," David answered with worry evident in his voice.

Blaine's jaw was slack. He hadn't expected that. Sebastian's injuries couldn't be that bad, could they? David continued speaking.

"He landed on his head," Ouch. "It isn't looking so good. The doctors say he might not be thinking straight." David concluded. Sebastian would never think straight, Blaine thought with a chuckle. Now is not the time, Anderson. Your best friend's gone coco.

"Alright, I'll be there in a quarter. I'll see you then, David." Blaine said into his phone with finality.

"Bye, man." With that, Blaine ended the call with David and began dressing up. He was pretty sure his shirt was on backwards and his zipper wasn't fully zipped, but he didn't care. He didn't even bother gelling his hair

Blaine ran down the stairs in lightning speed, nearly tripping on the last step. He grabbed his car keys and made sure to lock the frontdoor. He surely didn't want to add a robbery to the list of things he had to deal with right now.

He slammed his car door shurt and began speeding to the hospital, houses whizzing by as he did so. He was forced to hault at a red light. Come on, faster, faster, faster...

He was tapping on the steering wheel rapidly, lost in his worried thoughts. Distracted in his world, he jumped in his seat when a driver honked his horn behind him. Apparently the light had turned green.

He continued his hastily rushing to the hospital. Nearly bumping into a couple crossing the street, he parked his car and burst through the doors of the hospital, finding Nick and Jeff waiting for him inside. They headed to Sebastian's room, shoes creating squeaky sounds against the hospital floor.

He failed to notice the blue-eyed boy who was in a peaceful slumber sitting in a chair, dreaming about a certain someone.

...

Strong, muscular arms were wrapped around Kurt's waist from behind him. He couldn't see the owner of these arms, but he didn't care. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of the person.

He leaned his head on the shoulder of the mystery man. The guy was slightly shorter than him, he took note. Kurt could stay like this forever. The close proximity made him feel warm all over.

He wrapped his own arms over the arms that trapped him in this state of pure joy and content. He felt a warm breath tickling his neck that made him shiver. The guy only held unto him tighter, much to his delight.

He then heard a familiar voice whispering in his ear. It was the voice that belonged to the boy from the swing in the park. They were slowly stepping side to side now, swaying just so.

The boy with the unknown identity started singing an all too familiar tune in his ear. Kurt's lips curled up into a giddy smile. This smile only got wider as the boy's singing continued.

He wanted to last in this moment forever. He wishes to see the boy's face, but his body disagrees. He wants to turn around and stare into the eyes of the boy that made him feel so happy, so pleased.

He wanted to know who this person was and spend all eternity with them. One might think it was silly and irrational to want to be with someone whom you hadn't even met yett, but Kurt didn't have control over his feelings. The heart wants what the heart wants, and what Kurt's heart wanted was him.

He began to hum along softly to the song. His voice and the stranger's voice meshed wonderfully together. He entwined his fingers with the fingers of the boy holding him.

Their fingers fit perfectly. He wonders if they fit perfectly in other ways, too, and not just sexually. Kurt raised their intertwined hands and planted gentle kisses on each of the boy's knuckles. The kisses were soft and feather-light.

He strongly desired to open his eyes and about face. Apparently the owner of the smooth voice wanted so too, for he tenderly whispered in Kurt's ear.

"Turn around." the boy uttered.

Surprisingly, his body began to cooperate, although his eyes were still shut. He unwinded his body from the mystery boy and obeyed to what he had instructed.

He feels two hands gripping his hips and pulling him closer and closer. He was now chest to chest with the boy. He could feel the steady beat of the guy's heart, ever so close to his own.

With eyes still closed, he winds his arms around the boy's neck and lowers his head to rest on the stranger's shoulder, placing a little gap between their bodies.

He felt disappointed at the oh so slight loss of warmth, so he raises his head and presses his cheek to the cheek of the unknown boy. His torso was now fully pressed to that of the stranger.

He feels fingers cupping his cheek, slowly guiding his head away from the side of the boy's face. He leans into the touch and sighs in bliss. Out of the blue, he feels warm, plump lips pressing against his. This boy was delicious.

His brain practically explodes, and he feels tingles in his stomach, as cliché as it was. He smiles into the delightful kiss and reciprocates with enthusiasm, wanting, needing, more of this stranger. The kiss ends far too soon in his opinion. He smiles sadly when he realizes it's over.

"Open your eyes, Kurt." he hears the voice say.

Kurt does so, but instead of seeing the owner of the smooth voice and the subject of most of his dreams, he sees the lobby of the hospital Carole worked at. He sighed. Just another dream...

Nowadays, all of his dreams were focused on that boy from the swing in the park. Those were the best dreams he's ever had.

He begins to wonder if he actually knew the boy. What if he was someone from school? He wasn't sure if the physique of the boy in his dreams was just an idea of his subconscious, or if the stranger actually had that stature.

He's watched his fair share of movies Leonardo DiCaprio has starred in, because damn. Was it true that you only dreamt of people you've encountered at least once in your life, just like in Inception? Does this mean he has actually met this stranger? Then, was this stranger really a stranger afterall?

Were his dreams going to stay dreams? Would he ever find out who this guy was?

He thinks he's gone insane. While getting his books from his locker yesterday afternoon, he thinks he hears that particular boy singing his now favorite song to listen to in the distance. Just wishful thinking, Kurt.

Carole had asked him to come pick him up from the hospital for some mid-week grocery shopping. She was dealing with her last patient of the day now. "Poor boy fell down the stairs." That undoubtedly sounded like it hurt.

He pulls out his phone from his pocket and starts texting Quinn.

Kurt So Q, you think the team's ready for the performance?

The Cheerios were performing this Friday after hours and hours of gruesome practice. Kurt and Santana were singing a wonderful rendition of 4 Minutes by the Madonna.

Quinn If we aren't ready I don't know if we'll ever be. Sue worked us to the bone.

Kurt and Quinn continued texting back and forth about parts of the routine they needed improvement on.

Kurt received a text from Finn asking him if he should bring Rachel to Breadsticks or order pizza and eat in candlelight to add to the romantic feel. Kurt rolled his eyes fondly. Finn wasn't the most romantic person, but he tried.

He flinches when a voice shouts "BUT BASTY!" near him. He rolled his eyes. Some people needed to quiet down their voices. Thankfully, whoever the owner of the voice was exited the hospital.

Kurt wasn't very fond of hospitals. People die there daily. The smell and the food were horrible. The receptionists were beyond rude at times. Plus, hospitals reminded him of his mother, and not in a good way.

His memories of her were usually filled with glee and laughter, but all he remembered when he was in a hospital was her paler than usual face and her eyes that lacked the light they once shone. His skin was feeling itchy.

Fortunately, Carole appeared, still in her nurse attire, ready to go. Kurt exhales a shaky breath. They leave in order to buy the groceries, flushing down Kurt's memories that filled himself with dread.

...

"Alright sweetie, you're free to go." Said the nurse to Sebastian, Carmen or something.

Sebastian couldn't care less. He wanted to get out of this room. It was too white. Kind of like living in a cloud. But the cloud wasn't fluffy. Why was it not fluffy?

A kid entered the room. He had fluffy hair. That bastard. He stole all the fluffiness from the cloud. Anger bubbled up in Sebastian's stomach. How dare he?

A person with a mango as a head came into the room next with a guy. Why did he have a mango for his head? It looks delicious...

Sebastian felt dizzy. What happened to him? He looked around him. There was a guy in the corner of the room whose posture was rigid. His face was contorted into a frown. The guy looked familiar. Oh yeah...

He went to Charlie's Chocolate Fucktory because he wanted to get to cloud nine. But the floors were slippery with chocolate and the Oompa Loompas were blocking his way. I think I arrived in the wrong cloud...

This was definitely not cloud nine. He was supposed to be ecsatic right now. Which cloud was he on? Would he ever find his way back home?

The fluff thief was walking over to him. He glared with all his might at him. Stupid fluff stealer. I want my fluff back.

He then realized the fluff thief was really short and he had curly hair, was he an Oompa Loompa? Was it his fault Sebastian was on the wrong cloud?

"Seba–"

"THIEF!"

"Bas, I don't know what you–"

"THIEF! I DEMAND THE ARREST OF THIS MAN NOW." Sebastian stared expectantly at mango head and mango head's friend. They were just standing there with eyebrows raised. Mangos have eyebrows...

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Sebastian questioned petulantly. He definitely wasn't going to let this guy off the hook. If mango head and company weren't going to do anything, then hell, he was. He made a move to get out of the bed, but everyone came rushing to him to stop his actions.

"Lunatics! This man is a criminal! He must be put to justice!" Sebastian exclaimed to all the people around him. "You right there! Do some–"

"Sebastian!" the fluff thief screeched at him. "What the hell are you talking about?" the thief questioned. Sebastian blinked hard at him. Was this man feigning innocence? That asshole.

"You stole all the fluff, you bastard!" Sebastian said through gritted teeth.

This guy was seriously pissing him off. First, he transports Sebastian to the wrong cloud. And then, he freaking steals all the fluffiness from said cloud. And then, he pretends he didn't do anything wrong. What the actual fuck, right? Ugh. Pests, he thought.

The thief looked like he was about to speak up, but the door to the cloud opened. A boy with jet-black hair walks into the room. Finally, maybe this guy had some sense in him.

...

Sebastian had no sense in him. Blaine was about to give up. His best friend's allegiations of him robbing the room of 'fluff' were driving him nuts.How hard had he hit his head?

Trent and Thad told Blaine about what happened to Sebastian as much as they could. They didn't know all the details, but they knew some. They'd heard Sebastian's mutterings despite arguing over irrelevant candy that had gone missing. "Gummy bears are not irrelevant!"

Trent had been ignoring Thad's accusations of him hiding all the purple gummies. The pair had been walking the halls with Sebastian, heading to class. Thad had been making grand hand gestures, nearly smacking an elderly teacher in the process whom rolled their eyes.

Sebastian had spotted Charlie sucking face with one of the freshmen. He was supposed to be sucking face with Charlie, not that freshman. Charlie's make out session had been creating a commotion, causing students to reroute.

The hallway had been a rapidly flowing river filled with navy and red. Shoulders bumped, feet were stepped on, and apologies were sent. Sebastian had strode over to Charlie and his little friend, knocking over someone's things and rolling his eyes when the guy called out to him. He had had more important things to deal with.

Sebastian had tried exchanging words with Charlie, but the boy hadn't listened, continuing his who-can-eat-the-other-faster contest with that freshie. He had tapped Charlie on the shoulder, but the boy had merely shoved his hand away. Oh, so that's how you wanna play it, he had thought. Sebastian had taken a few steps back.

He had immediately regretted it.

His right foot hadn't landed on the floor it was supposed to land on. He had stumbled backwards, his sense of equilibrium gone. He had fallen down a flight of stairs, one that had over fifteen steps to it.

His head had been the first to take impact, which had resulted to a concussion, and to his current loony state.

Blaine was about to attempt talking calmly and assertively when the door to the room swung open revealing Aaron. Wait a minute. Didn't Aaron mention he had a cousin that went by the name of Charlie? Oh shit, Blaine thought.

...

Aaron, upon entering the drab room, threw a quick questioning glance to Charlie who was standing in the corner with his eyes closed shut, although looking tense and uneasy.

Aaron looked over to Blaine who was rubbing his eye with his palm. Despite only meeting the boy and his friends yesterday, one could tell he wasn't in the best mood. He looked, well, annoyed.

"What's going on in here?" Aaron asked, concerned. Blaine parted his lips and closed them again, looking quite like a goldfish. Sebastian, of course, answered.

"This man committed a crime and is pleading innocent." Sebastian claimed through gritted teeth, jerking his head towards Blaine. He was done wasting his voice over that delinquent.

Aaron quirked an eyebrow at Blaine with an amused grin planted on his face, sparkly teeth and all. His demeanor changed abruptly, though. His face turned stern and serious, as if what was happing was not a matter to kid about.

"I understand," Aaron began as he questioned Sebastian on the situation at hand. They conversed about nonsensical and seemingly ridiculous topics before Aaron nods his head utters five words to Charlie, Wes, David, Thad, Trent, Nick, Jeff, and the last and the least, Blaine. "You've got your Sebastian back." he says with a toothy smile.

Whoa, not possible, Blaine thinks. The others think of not so similar thoughts.

Don't worry, Sir Bangy Bang Bang. You won't end up like him, now won't you?

Poor Sebastian, I hope his leg heals fast.

Crap, I need to find a new hiding place for those gummy bears. Wes flipped his shit when he found them in his underwear drawer...

Purple gummies, purple gummies...

Damn, Sebastian still looks hot with that cast. He may look even hotter...

I love Jeff.

I love Nick.

The doctor had ordered Sebastian to rest and to take things easy. Fortunately, he didn't have to stay in the hospital overnight or anything of the like.

With some assistance from his friends, Sebastian sat uncomfortably on a wheelchair. He didn't take not being able to walk around too nicely.

Once they were in the lobby, Jeff had offered to wheel Sebastian around. Sebastian, not fully himself quite yet, snapped his head towards Jeff and with a scrunched up face and replied, "Hell to the no!"

"BUT BASTY!" Jeff pleaded, kneeling in front of Sebastian's wheelchair to prevent him from rolling away. Sebastian drew in a deep breath, composing himself.

"Fine." he said.

"Yay!" Jeff exclaimed, doing a little disco dance, just before standing up and wheeling Sebastian out of that godawful hospital and into the refreshing feel of the outdoors.

They were an awfully large group with ten people. Jeff, Nick, and Sebastian were leading, with Nick's arm around Jeff's waist who was wheeling Sebastian around. David and Wes were questioning Blaine furthermore on his experiences in McKinley. Thad continued his interrogation of where his gummy bears were with Trent, whose ears were covered with his hand while he sang "la la la" all over again to mute out Thad. Adam and Charlie were lagging behind, watching the crazy party interact.

Adam sighed and walked briskly to the front of the group, overtaking Blaine, Wes, David, Thad, and Trent. He tapped on Jeff's shoulder, catching the boy's attention.

"Mind if I take over?" Aaron asked kindly, motioning to Sebastian who's chin was resting on his palm, looking rather bored and unamused. Jeff pouted, but obliged, causing the wheelchair to hault to a complete stop.

"Jeff! What the – oh, it's you." Sebastian said, looking a bit embarrassed. He looked away. He started staring at a pink car with no interest at all, really.

"Yeah, it's me." Aaron said with a smile. Did he ever tire of smiling? "Um, sorry by the way." Aaron continued, rubbing the back of his neck, pushing the wheelchair with just one hand.

"What? Oh. It's okay. I mean, I could've fallen out of the wheelchair and broken my face but I didn't. So, it's all good." Sebastian replied with a shrug. Aaron chuckled, although it seemed slightly forced.

"I didn't mean w-with the wheelchair, I'm apologizing for Charlie." Aaron said sheepishly, looking shy and innocent.

Wait, what? "You're apologizing for Charlie?" Sebastian questioned Aaron, a look of curiosity and disbelief on his face.

"...Yes?" Aaron answered, unsure and cautious.

"Aaron, you don't have to do that. I was just being clumsy. Charlie didn't do anything wrong, and if he did do anything wrong, you shouldn't be the one apologizing." Sebastian reassured the boy, quite surprised a himself. Sebastian wouldn't have just let that go. But then again, maybe his brain was still acting loopy and he just wasn't himself at the moment. Yeah, that's why, he thought.

Blaine had been watching and Aaron and Sebastian from behind them. He had heard their conversation. Peculiar, how Sebastian was acting around Aaron.

...

Wednesday had Blaine sitting with Aaron and Mike, toying around with his food. Tina was eating with Rachel and Mercedes. He didn't have an appetite. His phone vibrated every now and then signaling a text from Quinn. The two were closer than ever, but they didn't hang out much. They just talked.

Sometimes, talking was all they needed. They just needed to vent out their feelings and discuss mindless things, the topic of the conversation changing after every ten texts received and sent or so.

The bell rung, the sound echoing in his ears as he half-heartedly waved Mike goodbye. The good news was, he shared his next class with Aaron.

The bad news was he shared it with him.

Kurt Hummel.

He had always looked forward to French class, Kurt Hummel just had to ruin that too for him. Firing one text to Quinn and breathing out a sigh, he entered the classroom searching for a vacant seat.

He and Aaron took slightly long walking down the hallway, which resulted in them being the last two coming in to class. The two vacant seats were miles away from each other, unfortunately.

Worse news, one of those vacant seats happened to be right beside Kurt Hummel. How convenient, he thought. Aaron, not knowing about his encounters with the cheerleader, sat in the other seat. Blaine was forced to sit beside Kurt. Oh well...

Blaine took down notes as Madame Patterson elaborated on in French. He and Quinn were still texting from time to time, not yet ready to end their chat. Kurt sat to his right, his mile-long legs stretched. He wasn't paying attention at all. That's when Blaine felt it.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Kurt was kicking the foot of Blaine's chair absent-mindedly, though intentionally.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Blaine rolled his eyes. Childish little... "Would you stop?" he demanded. Kurt payed him no attention. Blaine replied to a text from Quinn.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Would you please stop?" Blaine said louder and with more conviction this time. That got Kurt's attention. Kurt ceased his mild kicking.

...

Kurt rolled his eyes. He was just having a little fun. He crossed his legs and straightened his back, glancing at the board. He already knew what they were talking about.

His phone vibrated, shaking him out of disdainfully staring at Madame Patterson's outfit. That woman should get arrested for combining blue, green, and red.

Quinn I told you not to call me that!

Wait, what? Kurt didn't call Quinn anything.

Kurt Call you what?

Quinn Oh, nothibg. Don't mind that text.

That's bizarre. What's up with that typo? The last he remembered, he hadn't called Quinn anything. Had he not?

Kurt shook his head. Quinn sure was acting strange.