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Kurt isn't sure which is faster: the speed of light or the rate at which Blaine's hair grows.
And by Blaine's hair, Kurt means all of his body hair, from top to bottom.
Kurt's no stranger to the five o'clock shadow that always prickles his jaw by the time he comes home from work, and though Blaine always shaves it clean the next morning without fail, Kurt would be lying if he said that the rugged, roguish look of it, stubbly and dark across Blaine's face, doesn't drive him wild with arousal each time he welcomes Blaine home with a kiss to his cheek.
It enhances his already insane sex appeal to astronomical heights. Kurt's tried to understand how it grows so quickly, especially since it takes him several days to even sprout the small beginnings of stubble on his own face, but he gives up every time.
He's settled with the idea that it's just one of the unexplained wonders of the world.
But Kurt's never really known how fast and how much Blaine's hair could grow until they become shut in and cooped up in their apartment for months on end.
Blaine stopped gelling on the weekends and at home soon after they got married, and what he did gel for work and public appearances was reduced by a drastic amount. A few days into quarantine, he gives up gelling entirely. (Did Kurt dance happily and fist bump the air once Blaine was out of sight? Maybe.)
And a few weeks into quarantine, after Kurt starts to realize Blaine's hair grows even more quickly than he thought, he comes up behind Blaine one morning while he's sitting at their breakfast table and runs his fingers through the long mop of curls, scratching his scalp and smiling when Blaine sighs happily.
"You want me to trim this up, hon?" he asks, because he was thinking about having Blaine help him with his own hair that day, maybe the next. Blaine looks up at him over his shoulder, eyes glowing a little more green than brown, as they usually do in the morning sunlight.
"Does it look bad?"
"Not at all," Kurt replies, watching as the curls pull apart and straighten through his fingertips, then recoil. "It's just longer than you usually wear it."
It's not longer than Kurt has ever seen it before, but it is edging a few inches past what he knows Blaine prefers, though Kurt thinks it looks incredibly sexy framing down the sides of his forehead almost in a side-bang type style, winding in little curls that peek out beneath the bottom of his ears.
"I'm kind of liking it," Blaine admits with a smile, and Kurt bends down to press a sweet kiss to the corner of his lips.
"Help me with mine, then?" he says softly into Blaine's ear and Blaine smiles, turning his chin to peck a kiss to Kurt's mouth.
"Of course." Then he pats the top of Kurt's head. "We're gonna need vaulted ceilings in here if this coif gets any taller," he teases, and Kurt chuckles because, yeah, that's more than true.
Though he lets his hair grow out, Blaine maintains pretty good control of his beard at first.
Until they realize that they might be stuck at home a tad longer than they anticipated, and he gives up on the beard, too.
The beard grows even faster than his hair, and it's only a week or two later when Kurt walks into the bathroom as Blaine's drying off from a shower and erupts into giggles he can't hold back.
"What?" Blaine asks, and Kurt pats his towel clad hip affectionately as he moves around him to get into the cabinets under the sink.
"Sweetheart, you look straight out of The Revenant," he laughs, looking up at Blaine's long hair and thick beard, thicker than Blaine's ever had it while they've been married, or while Kurt's known him. (And considering Kurt's known Blaine since they were sixteen, he suspects this is probably the longest Blaine has ever had it in his entire life.)
"All I'm hearing is sexy Leonardo DiCaprio," Blaine grins, and Kurt rolls his eyes fondly.
The beard doesn't last much longer than that. Not because of Kurt's continual mountain man quips (he very seriously asks Blaine if he wants to legally change his name to Jedidiah Smith while they're watching a movie one night, and is answered by a firm elbow in the ribs), but because the beard burn gets unbearable for Kurt.
"And I am not just talking about on my face, Blaine," Kurt complains, and Blaine shoots him a toothy grin and a wiggle of his eyebrows before heading to the bathroom to shave it off.
He does, however, continue to grow out his hair, and Kurt's not sure exactly when, but at some point it passes the a-little-longer-than-normal length and becomes a full on afro of beautiful, full, dark curls that Kurt just absolutely adores.
Kurt's never seen Blaine look like this before, with curls fluffy and voluminous from not just the top of his head, but all the way around the sides and the back, and he becomes insatiable for his gorgeous husband, even more so than normal, which is really saying something.
There's just something about the young, uninhibited appearance of it that makes Blaine look so carefree and happy Kurt's heart lurches with adoration every time he looks at him. He loves the way Blaine has to brush it out of his eyes anytime he's looking down at papers or the screen of his phone, loves the way he wears a headband to keep it back anytime he's working out or doing the dishes and Kurt can't stop smiling as he watches him, loves the way it's like a whole soft pillow in and of itself when Kurt nestles into it at night, spooning around Blaine's back and breathing in his scent.
He loves the way it looks nothing like the polished, seemingly perfect and put together image of confidence that his husband used to obsess over when they were younger, when he needed some semblance of control over his battles that no one knew he was facing.
This is just Blaine, natural and exuberant and unrestrained, and utterly, downright, beautiful-- the simple boy that Kurt loves without anything else in the way.
They're watching TV one night, and Kurt's fidgety hands are occupied where they most often are-- combing through Blaine's thick curls, so frizzy and wide Kurt can bury his entire hand in their softness. Blaine's head is in his lap, and he's let out some rather obscene sounding moans more than once, but Kurt can't really blame him. He's kind of full on rubbing his hands through Blaine's hair and massaging his scalp like there's no tomorrow.
"I think you're developing a fetish for my hair."
"I'm sorry, we've been together for how many years?" Kurt teases, fingers grazing through the shorter curls at the nape of Blaine's neck (which at this point, can't even be classified as short). "If you think this fetish is just developing darling, you have not been paying attention."
Blaine chuckles, then hums when Kurt hits a particularly good spot with his fingers. "What if I told you I was thinking about cutting it tomorrow?"
Kurt's a little embarrassed to admit he audibly gasps. "No! No, no, no, no please don't, please--"
He will hide the hair clippers from Blaine if he has to.
"I'm kidding!" Blaine says frantically, then bursts into laughter at Kurt's resulting glare. "But you definitely just confirmed your hair fetish."
Kurt scowls, but he can't be mad for too long because Blaine arches his head up into his hands a little and Kurt's fingers go back to petting instinctively and, oh God, all that luscious hair.
"You really like it then, huh?" Blaine asks, and Kurt smiles as Blaine shifts onto his back and stares straight up at him.
"I do," Kurt tells him. "I love it this length. I love you. And I guess... I just love how happy you look lately."
Blaine's smile is brighter than the sun, gleaming through both his plump pink lips and the fire of his golden eyes.
"Well, I'm with you every day. How could I not be happy?"
"Sap."
"Aw, but you love me, remember?"
"Yeah," Kurt smiles, heart filling with warmth as he bends down a little and Blaine rises up on his elbows to meet him halfway in a slow, sweet kiss. "I really do."
"I love you, too."