Kurt lets himself fall slowly backwards against Blaine, stretching his legs out as far as they could reach. Blaine catches him easily, wrapping his arms around Kurt's chest and leaning his head over his shoulder, as Kurt slides easily between Blaine's legs.

They sit like that for a few moments, the spiralling heat diffusing from the hot water surrounding them, making them feel pleasantly dizzy. Blaine runs a bubble-covered hand over the smooth expanse of Kurt's chest, who smiles and closes his eyes as a result.

"Kurt, sit forward a moment, will you?" Blaine whispers into his ear, eliciting a soft sigh as Kurt obliges.

Blaine's hands come to rest on Kurt's shoulders, his elbow banging against the tiles on the wall. He presses a sweet kiss to the back of Kurt's neck, just below his hairline, and then begins to move his fingers in slow, easy circles, applying pressure. Kurt lets out a soft mmm, the ghost of which echos on the walls.

"Is that okay?"

"Yes."

So Blaine continues, working his way across the delicate line of Kurt's clavicle to the centre of his spine, fingertips and palms varying the roll of his hands across Kurt's skin. He finds a knot resting between the wings of Kurt's shoulder blades, adds a little more force to his movement, and Kurt whimpers slightly.

"Does that hurt?"

"No, it's okay. Just a little strange, that's all."

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"I'll tell you if I want you to stop."

"'kay," Blaine replies, his voice barely there as he starts to focus again on releasing the tension that has settled in Kurt's back, working it with gentle movements in his thumbs and feeling it wear away beneath his touch as Kurt falls back into him.

His fingers dance down the waxing crescent of Kurt's spine, trace the fragile vertebrae, linger on the tiny silver scar he knows and loves before kissing it, his lips tasting the faint traces of Kurt's skin that cuts through the clean scent of water. They then work their way back upwards, exploring, mapping, memorising every little fault in Kurt's skin that Blaine finds so perfect, crossing the ridges and traversing the valleys and galaxies that form his miracle of a body.

"Tilt your head back, just a little."

Kurt's movement is so fluid, it seems almost subconscious, his head now resting against the centre of Blaine's chest. Blaine cups as much water as he can, holding his hands tightly together to seal any breaks in the grasp. and slowly allows what remains to fall onto Kurt's hair. He repeats this once, twice, three times, until Kurt's hair is shining silver in the harsh light of the bathroom, almost iridescent like the bubbles around him. It's then that Blaine reaches for the bottle at the side, pours a little too much onto his hand, then starts to distribute it through Kurt's hair, fingers massaging Kurt's scalp, wanting to feel what lies underneath. Kurt lets out a soft exhale.

He curls his hands around the back of Kurt's neck, brings them back up again before pushing forward around his temples, making sure it's spread evenly and that Kurt is completely and utterly relaxed beneath his hands. There's something very calculated and methodical about the movement of Blaine's hands, like he knows exactly the right places to touch to get the desired reaction, but there's still a honeyed tenderness to each touch as well.

He then begins to run his hands through Kurt's scalp, forcing Kurt's hair backwards and causing it to stand up. He does this again, gathering the strands into a group before twisting them towards the ceiling, styling under the guise of making sure Kurt's hair is thoroughly clean. Finally, he reaches forward, takes a small tangle, toys with it a little around his finger and lets it curl on Kurt's forehead, just a bit off-centre.

It's Blaine's gentle laughter that causes Kurt to stir and sit up.

"What's so funny?" he asks, the words stumbling lazily from his mouth.

"I sort of styled your hair. And it looks pretty good. Different, but, well, good too." Blaine's voice is a little tentative, knowing just how much pride Kurt takes in his appearance.

Kurt sits forward, adjusting himself so he can view his reflection in the steamed-up mirror. He inspects it, turning his head a little.

"Oddly reminiscent of Noah Puckerman, but much more classy."

"You like it?"

"Maybe I just might, Blaine." And Kurt smiles, and Blaine smiles too.

"Shame we've got to wash it off now, then!"

"Well, you could always redo it afterwards if you like."

And Kurt sinks back against Blaine, immersed once more in the warm water.