Things hadn’t gone the way Blaine had planned.

In hindsight, he supposed he should have expected something like this: everything had been far too perfect and that never happened. Not to him. Not in his life.

So when Kurt had come over to watch DVDs, looking so perfect and bearing snacks, he should have suspected disaster was on the horizon.

It had started out well enough: they’d put the snacks into bowls and popped corn kernels while his iPod played from the dock on the counter. And every time Kurt turned away Blaine got to pelt him with popcorn to regain his attention.

Kurt had accused him of being worse than a puppy.

Blaine had insisted he didn’t know what he was talking about.

There was no sign that anything was wrong until they got upstairs and had settled on Blaine’s bed. As the DVD began to play, Kurt lay back against the pillows, and Blaine lay back against his chest. Just like they usually did. And for a while, in the quiet flickering of the TV, everything was absolutely perfect. Kurt was running his hands slowly up and down his arm and Blaine couldn’t believe his luck.

Until Kurt had sneezed.

“Ugh, sorry.” He’d said, and Blaine had had to sit up while his boyfriend stretched over to get a tissue from the box on his nightstand. “That was gross, I-“

And then he’s sneezed again. And again.

“Woah,” said Blaine, “you okay there?”

“Yeah I’m fine” - sneeze - “I just” - sneeze - “I don’t know what’s come over me!”

Blaine watched in confusion as Kurt kept sneezing. He didn’t look sick, and he hadn’t seemed to be ten minutes ago. Yet here was his boyfriend, red-nosed and sniffling, for no apparent reason.

“Kurt…” Blaine said, as it slowly dawned on him, “You’re not allergic to anything, are you?”

Despite the sneezing, Kurt still managed to throw him an epic death stare: “Like what, Blaine? Popcorn?”

Blaine floundered for an answer, when Kurt froze and looked at him.

“Unless…”

“Unless what?” Blaine started, but Kurt was already up and by his vanity, going through the bottles that were standing there. “What - why are you going through my vanity?” Blaine frowned, watching his boyfriend carefully.

“Aha!” was all Kurt said, turning around and looking victorious. The effect was somewhat ruined when he sneezed again. He was holding a tub of hair gel - of all things - like it was the cure for cancer.

“I knew your hair gel would be the death of me one day,” he said dramatically, giving Blaine a sharp look. “You went and changed brands, didn’t you?”

Blaine, for his part, looked stunned: “They ran out of my usual stuff.”

“Hm.” was all Kurt said.

“Wait, so you’re allergic to my hair gel?”

“So it would seem. I tried this brand once ages ago and nearly destroyed my nasal passages. Now get up! You are going to shower and get that junk right out your hair or else!”

Kurt grabbed his arm and pulled him off the bed, marching him towards the bathroom.

“I’ll look like a poodle, Kurt.” Blaine argued, but the bathroom door slammed behind him, brooking no argument.

“Its that or no cuddling. Pick your poison.” The door opened a crack as Kurt threw in a t-shirt and some sweatpants, “Now, shower!”

It was only after much grumbling (and a dose of Clariton) that they finally made their way back to the bed, where their DVD was still waiting for them, unwatched throughout the entire escapade.

“Well, that went well,” Blaine said sarcastically, as he leaned back against Kurt once more. “Just a calm evening watching movies and eating popcorn, what could possibly go wrong?”

Kurt smiled and hugged him round the middle. “Its not all bad,” he said, “We still get to do all those things." Blaine hummed nodded slightly.

It was only half way through the movie, as Kurt absently began stroking his fingers through Blaine’s hair, that Blaine thought maybe, just maybe, things didn’t always have to go as he’d planned. They were more than welcome to go better.