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Week 12 out of 144 at college, and so far Kurt is finding that the only thing keeping her functioning is her shower routine. For some reason, the dorms have better showers than her ensuite bathroom at home, which she's taken full advantage of every night since she arrived.
Tonight she needs an extra-long shower, shuddering as she thinks of the way the Treblemakers had looked her up and down in the quad, like — like some piece of meat, or a slice of cheesecake. Gross. Kurt puts her hair up and scrubs off the day she's had, lathering and rinsing off the dirt and suds. If only washing off the male gaze was this simple.
When she's done, she grabs a few pumps of shaving cream and preps her legs, propping one against a ridge in the wall and shaving quietly. Too quietly, almost, now that the water isn't running. She can almost hear her own thoughts, and it's too much; the whole point of her night was to forget. She doesn't want to think about idiot boys, or how she had to settle when she didn’t get into NYADA, or how much she absolutely does not want to be here.
So she starts to hum, gaining volume and courage as she remembers she's the only one in the showers at this hour.
"Remember those walls I built, well, baby they're tumblin' down," she sings, sliding the razor up her left leg. "Didn't even put up a fight, didn't even make a sou — aaaaaaaagh!"
Kurt's leg slips off the ridge and she flails a little bit, dropping the razor in shock as a girl — a completely nude girl — stands pleasantly before her, clutching one side of the shower curtain she'd just yanked open.
"Hi!" she says. "My name's Blaine."
Kurt can't do anything but gape at her total immodesty before she remembers that she's actually naked, too. She grabs her towel from the rack overhead, clutching it to her chest. She hopes she's covering all the important bits.
"What are you doing?" Kurt hisses.
"You have a very beautiful voice," is Blaine's reply, and she's gorgeous and wearing literally nothing but the biggest smile Kurt's ever seen.
"You're naked!"
Blaine tilts her head, ignoring the statement. "How would you feel about auditioning for our school's a cappella group?"
Kurt lifts her chin, trying to keep her eyes at about Blaine's forehead level. "The Treblemakers? No thanks. I've seen everything I need to know about them."
Wrinkling her nose in a way that shouldn't be this adorable, Blaine shakes her head. "Those pigs? No, I want you to come audition for the Barden Bellas! The way you hit that low note was...wow."
This isn't the first time Kurt's heard something like that, but it's a sensitive issue. "Oh. You want me to join because I sound like a man."
"No!" Blaine's eyes get really wide. "Look, the thing is, we've always been at a disadvantage because not many girl voices can hit the bass notes. It's something the Treblemakers — " Blaine makes another scrunchy face " — won't let us forget. If we had a voice like yours, we could show them that a cappella doesn't need testosterone to kick butt!"
"Kick butt," Kurt repeats slowly, raising one eyebrow. When Blaine nods, still with that florescent grin, she sighs. She can feel herself relenting already. "If I say yes, will you at least make sure I'm wearing clothes before you next ambush me?"
With a squeal of delight, Blaine throws her arms around Kurt's shoulders, squeezing a little and whispering, "You won't regret this!" into her ear, and then, with mischief that brings a sweet warmth to Kurt's cheeks, "And you have nothing to be ashamed of." Kurt swallows, discreetly adjusting the towel between them for maximum coverage even as Blaine — still nude, oh god — pulls away, turns to leave, and offers a completely shameless view of which Kurt takes full advantage.