“Oh, and you stop being such a baby!” replied Kurt as he placed a steadying hand on the other boy’s shoulder. “It doesn’t even hurt!”

Blaine fidgeted in his chair, knees bobbing up and down with nerves;

“That’s because I was gentle with your precious scalp!” he spat. “Which looks fantastic, by the way!”

“Yeah, now I can go join the conehead club!” Kurt chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“At least you still have a head!”

The clippers’ hum was hushed as Kurt finished, spinning Blaine around, so he could see the final product;

“Your lack of faith in me--is astounding,” said Kurt.

Blaine gazed into the mirror, pupils blown. His mouth hung open, hand lingering above his smooth skull, almost like he was afraid to touch it;

“I-uh-it’s…” he stuttered.

“Gone?” Kurt concluded.

“Y-yeah.”

“Kinda sucks, doesn’t it?” Kurt asked as he leaned to give Blaine a kiss on his flushed cheek. “But you’ve never looked more beautiful.”

“Ha-ha, very funny.”

Blaine shoved passed his boyfriend, examining himself more closely.

“It’s…sort of…shiny!” he exclaimed. “Right? Can you see yourself in it, Kurt?!”

“Oh, my God. I’m in love with a 4 year-old.”

They giggled as they exited the bathroom, but their joy was cut short when Kurt stumbled, nearly connecting with the hard floor.

“Whoa, been walking long?” Blaine joked, grasping Kurt’s thinning waist.

“Right. Yeah. No, I’m fine.”

“You sure about that?” he questioned as he guided Kurt to the bed.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Kurt was shaking, and Blaine could tell he was doing everything in his power to hide it;

“I t-told you to s-stop staring at me l-like that,” Kurt ordered, finding it difficult to force the words from his trembling lips.

“Just tell me what’s wrong,” pleaded Blaine, holding the Kurt’s convulsing body.

“W-we,” he started, “look ridiculous!”

Blaine realized that Kurt wasn’t crying, but rather, he was doubled-over in a fit of laughter;

“You jerk! I thought there was something wrong!”

“There is! The shape of your h-head!” Kurt hollered as he fell back onto his pillow.

“You’re sick, but that doesn’t mean you can be an ass!” Blaine replied, sticking out his tongue.
______________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt traced the dips in Blaine’s neck with his fingers, as if memorizing the mapping of each feature;

“You know, Prom’s about a month from now.”

“That it is,” said Blaine, turning over to face Kurt, whose eyes seemed to be encircled by even deeper blues and purples.

“D-do you think I’ll make it?”

“Of course; not a doubt in my mind.”

“Good,” Kurt sighed. “Good.”
______________________________________________________________________________________

“Um. Oh, Jesus. Ah-uh. Sorry, guys. I didn’t meant to walk in on--yeah, I’m just…I’m gonna--gonna go.”

The incessant babbling belong to a flustered Finn; who had, of course, hurried down the steps, only to find Kurt and Blaine asleep…together.

“W-what?” Kurt mumbled, sitting up quick enough to see his step-brother dart for the door. “Wait, Finn! Nothing happened!”

“It’s cool, man. Whatever! I was coming to tell you it’s time for school, if you feel like going. I mean, obviously, you felt like doing someone,” he whispered, but Kurt still caught it.

“Excuse me?! Did you not notice how I spent half of yesterday hanging over the toilet bowl? I hardly think I would be in any condition to fuck Blaine!”

At that, Blaine shot awake, and Finn fled; ears plugged and feet quick.

“Ahem…” Blaine coughed. “You rang?”

“Sorry, Finn walked in on us…again,” replied Kurt, reaching to ruffle his own hair, but soon remembering that it was no longer there.

Blaine yawned and pulled the covers close to his chin;

“I’d expect him to be used to that by now…”

“Well, it appears he’s more shocked every time,” Kurt chuckled, yanking the comforter off both of them.

“The hell are you doing?!” Blaine gasped as he curled in to a shivering ball.

“We’re going to school.”

“But I thought you didn’t wanna! Wouldn’t you’d rather stay here, all nice and warm?”

Kurt stood and urged Blaine to do the same;

“Nope. I’m tired of being stuck behind these four walls. C’mon, get up!”

“Sweeeeetheaaaart,” Blaine moaned, still not budging.

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me. I’m the one with cancer, and I’m moving faster than you are. Let’s go!”

Practically running to his closet, Kurt selected his least flamboyant outfit and threw it towards the lazy boy that was still lingering at the edge of the bed.

“I really don’t like you,” huffed Blaine as he slipped on the red & black plaid shirt.

“Lies and slander!” Kurt shouted, a broad smile forming. “We’ll wear hats, okay? Choose whichever.”

Blaine did as he was told and ended up picking a black fedora.

“Aren’t you handsome?” said Kurt, taking Blaine’s hand.

“I try, I try.”

“You want breakfast?”

“What is it?” Blaine asked.

“French toast, I think.”

Kurt could feel Blaine become tense;

“I’m fine, thanks,” he replied.

“Thought so,” Kurt breathed. “If we hurry, we could get some coffee, to go?”

“Sounds great!”
______________________________________________________________________________________

“Hi, dad! Bye, dad!” Kurt called as he passed his father on the way to the front door.

“Hey, hold on! Where are you g--I didn’t know Blaine stayed the night…and that you two shaved your heads! Kurt, wha--”

“I’ll explain everything when I get home; gonna be late for school! Bye!”

Burt was left speechless and confused; his son, who was supposed to be dreadfully weak, just ran from his room…bald…with Blaine…and declared that he was going to school.

“Carole, I--”

“Don’t worry about it, honey,” she soothed. “He’ll be just fine.”