Gabe is an amazing man. He's interesting, he's funny, intelligent, handsome- ungodly handsome can I just add- and he likes me. My subconscious is grinning as well.

"I'll see you tonight?" he ask with that gleam in his eyes and that smile that makes my knees crumble.

"O- okay," I stutter, because he has that much of a profound affect on me.

He grabs me by my waist once more and kisses me chaste on my lips outside of NYADA after our little lunch together.

"See you later," he says, flashing me a grin before entering the school.

Our date last night was phenomenal. He told me about his time in Julliard, and how his passion for the Ballet dance grew from there. He told me about the year he spent in a peace corp helping the needy people of Africa. The six months he spent in Rome to learn more about the history. He is an amazing man and I'm still trying wrap my head around the fact that he likes me- plain, pale, disinteresting me.

I feel the glares when I walk down the hallway down to my dance class, dreading the two hours of Cassandra July. Most of the students pretty much have seen me and Gabe out together, and he kisses me often outside, and sometimes inside of school. Ginger basically has stopped talking to me, which I could care less about.

I enter hell- aka miss July's dance studio- and sit on the floor, stretching as I do.

"Rumor has it you're sleeping with Mister Parker," two ballerinas are towering over me, looking at me like I'm dirt. I suppress the urge to tell them their outfits are dirt.

"Rumors can talk all she wants," I say politely because my dad always thought me to kill bullies with kindness.

"You know who he is right? The type of person he is?" they say.

"I don't, but I reckon you're about to tell me," I smile.

"Well, he's the type that will hump and dump."

"Excuse me?" I frown.

"Rumor has it he's quite the playboy in town, and that he sleeps with men and then dumps them the next morning."

"You're really reliable with all your facts being rumors," I say sardonically.

"It's true."

"Funny, two seconds ago you claimed it a rumor."

"Watch your back, Hummel, because he certainly is. For now," they let out a hail mighty laugh as they dance away.

I hate the bitches here they're actually worse than Santana Lopez, McKinley's number one bitch back in my high school, and that's saying something because Santana once made Rachel cry by telling her her face looks like a horses' feces. Though she has more class than the ballerinas here.

Was it true about what they said about Gabe? I mean sure, in the past three days I've gotten to know more about his gleaming, interesting life but it's the things that people choose not to tell you the ones that they know will make you want to run.

Is that the type of person Gabe is? The type that humps and dumps? It just donned on me that I don't really know. Should I ask him? And if he did want to dump me, shouldn't he have done so by now? I hate the ballerinas for making me question all this.

"You should know that I skipped lunch for this mediocre class so if you disappoint me more so than I already know you're going to, I cannot be held accountable for the things I say. Off your incompetent asses, now."

With that, the devil's mistress herself makes her grand entrance. I hoist up quickly, bracing my self for two hours of torment and vile, cruel words from Cassandra's pleasure.

--------

It's four o'clock by the time I leave NYADA, the questions still swirling in my head. Is that really the type of person Gabe is? I don't think it'll be appropriate to ask him myself because I don't want him to think I doubt him, or succumb to adolescent gossip. He's a man, afterall. He finds this childish.

It's a slight drizzle now as I make my way back to my apartment. Stopping by the nearest 7Eleven to get twigges for Ben. He takes it gingerly, with the small umbrella I gave him to protect him from the rain. A card box can only shelter you so far.

Mister Montry says nothing and I feel relieved that he's off my back. I have Blaine to thank afterall, though I didn't want his help.

My phone rings then and I smile widely when I see the ID. "Hi," I greet shyly.

"Hey," Gabe says which makes me blush so hard. Yes, he has that affect on me. "Done with school?"

"Yes, just got home. Slightly drenched though." I tell him.

"You're wet?" he says and there is a salacious tone in his voice.

"Slightly," I say.

"Hey listen, I can't meet you tonight."

"Oh," I say, forgetting to hide my disappointment.

"Yeah, it's just that there's going to be some work done to prepare my gallery for the fashion show so I have to be there to direct everything. You're not mad, right?"

"No, of course not," I assure. "Yeah, it's work. I'm not mad, don't worry."

"Okay, but I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure," I hum.

"Great, oh and Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"You looked really sexy today, I forgot to mention."

I blushed so hard, and I actually crumbled this time- onto my bed. I grow speechless and there is a momentarily silence on the phone.

"Th- thanks," I manage to stutter.

"See you tomorrow," he sings before the line goes dead.

Oh lord, this man will be the death of me. He's so sweet even when he's canceling plans, if that is even possible.

But I can't shake to question whether he's lying as the words of those bitchy ballerinas haunt back to me. That man couldn't possibly be that description, right? He's sweet beyond words.

I suppress my wonder with some bad television and lose sweat pants and decide I should worry about this another day- one where we establish a proper relationship, should the day come.

------

It's a little past 10PM and I'm drowning myself in bad reality TV. Kim Kardashian looks awful in that get up, though she looks awful almost every time.

My phone rings and I expect it to be Blaine, asking me out to one of his gay bars, but it's Gabe and I grin.

"Hello?" I say.

"Hi," he greets and his voice sents me to the moon.

"Hi," I grin like an infant child.

"Were you asleep?"

"No, just poisoning my mind with television," I tell.

"Sounds awful."

"It is," I tell him.

"Well I just got out from the dreadful rehearsal show, and I'm famished and thinking about you. Fancy a late pizza run?"

"Pizza is awfully fattening especially at this time."

"As if you need to worry with a God sent body like yours."

I feel an electric current run down my spine and it goes down straight to my groin. Oh lord this man is so sexy and sweet. How is it possible that he likes me.

"Still- fattening."

"So, no then?" his tone is disappointed and I just want to wrap him in my arms. He's adorable even when he's disappointed- that's not fair play.

"I have a better idea," I take a deep breath. "Do you want to come over?"

I am aware at my request and all the ropes this can lead to, but I don't care. This man makes me want him so bad and I am not ashamed to admit that. There's a silence in his part, the sound of his slow breathing and cop sirens in his background.

"Come over- to your place?" he sounds surprised. Why?

"Yes, if you want. I have leftover lasagne I ordered earlier. Heat it up and you have an unhealthy supper at your serve," I laugh dryly.

There's a momentary silence again. Is it that hard to believe that I would invite a guy over to my place? Sure, the only guy every here is Blaine but he comes unannounced sometimes.

"Sure. I'll come over."

My subconscious leaps into the air and does five thousand jumping jacks to abdominally prepare himself for the arrival of my hot, hot knight. I feel nervous, a tinge. Okay, a ton.

"Great. Just press the buzzer. Apartment 701." I tell him.

"See you," he says and I can sense his salaciousness. Damn.

"Okay," I hang up and I run into my room. I need something sexy, but laid back because I'm at home. I pull out my lazy, moderately tight jeans with a simple black tee. There, that should do it. Understated, simple.

I start tidying up my apartment, which is usually already organized but because I've been swamped with school it's an organized mess this time. I pop the lasagne into the oven and wait patiently for the ding.

I'm so nervous I cannot even breathe.

-------

When the buzzer goes, my heart clenches and leaps out of my chest at the same time.

He's here.

"Gabe?" I ask, pressing the intercom.

"One and only, baby," he says and I blush.

"Come up to the seventh floor," I tell him as I press the green button.

I have this nagging voice in my head that tells me I should do some push-ups, pull-ups. Anything to make myself look beefed up but all that fails when there's a knock on my door. My heart sinks down to a chasm.

Not ready.

"Coming!" I shout as I do one quick scan across my apartment. It looks tidy, slightly.

I open the door an Gabe is standing there. His maroon dress shirt tight on his body, his chest vaguely outlined, his biceps clear. His hair is lush and sexy with small little locks hanging behind his ears. His smoldering green eyes that look into me and his brows perfectly shaped. That smile, a different smile this time but still the same no-mercy-to-your-hormones smile with tinge of something salacious

He looks drop dead handsome.

"Hi," he says so gently that my heart stops beating for a second.

"Hey," I say, feigning nonchalance.

He leans in and kisses my lips chastely, his soft lips brushing against my own before he pulls away, leaving me wanting more.

"Come in," I tell, stepping aside to give him room. He's taller than me, which is a first considering I'm at a respectable height. I'm at his ear- perfect ears I might add.

He steps in and and places his sling on briefcase onto the ground next to the door. His eyes flicker across my apartment and I fell embarrassed. It's like allowing someone you lie read your diary.

"Nice place. Cute, very New York," he tells and I wonder what that means.

"Thanks," I say. "Do you want something to drink?"

"What do you have?" he ask as he walks in further to the couch in front of the television.

"Coke, lemonade- very PG, I'm sorry."

"Coke it will be then," he smiles.

My hands are shaking as I take a can out and pour into a cup with ice. I hope he doesn't notice me, or realize I'm a ball of nerves right now. Dear god, even when he's sitting there with one leg resting on his thigh, grazing his stubble with his fingers, he still looks might fine.

"Here you go," I tell.

"Do you live alone?" he ask as he takes the glass from me. Does that question pertain something else? I wonder.

"I use to live with a girl, Rachel. Yeah, she went to NYADA too actually."

"Rachel Berry?" he ask.

"Yes. You know her?"

"Are you kidding? She's practically a legendary student in NYADA, all the teachers in NYADA talk about her. She was something special, is what they tell me."

"Yeah, she was. But she went to LA to pursue acting."

"Acting? I would think a student from NYADA would want to pursue something with more depth."

"Yeah, but she went anyway to LA."

"She was the one that won the winter showcase, right? First freshman ever," Gabe tells me.

"God, how much do people talk about her?" I ask, strangely curious. "I know the students aspire to be like her, I didn't know the teachers are so fond of her as well."

"Oh they are, very much so," he says

I feel a tinge of pity for Rachel. She was suppose to be on Broadway, on the revival of Funny Girl playing Fanny Brice, win Tonys. She was the one that was suppose to go far in the Broadway industry, but she switched course for Finn, for love. I wonder vaguely if I could do that- let go of my dreams for love.

But my thoughts are obliterated into ash when Gabe leans forward and kisses me hard, passionately and I lose all senses. His hand snakes behind my neck and pulls me closer, deeper into the kiss as his tongue slides into my mouth and swirls with my own. I forget the world.

"It's good to see you tonight," he breathes.

"You too," I mutter incoherently as my hand slides into his soft, lushes locks.

He moves and I begin to slowly fall back onto the couch. Slowly, slowly until I'm fully on my back and he's on top of me, his body hovering over mine, our lips still intact.

Oh god he's such a good kisser. His tongue so professionally works it's way in my mouth, his lips soft as it grazes over and over mine. Moist, soft and ungodly skilled.

His fingers slowly begin to pull on my tshirt, pulling it up from the hem and exposing my flat, unimpressive stomach. Even by that small modicum of skin, I feel exposed. His fingers slowly brushes over my abdominal and my belly button and I cannot suppress a soft moan.

He grins and repeats the action, slowly brushing over my skin with the tip of his finger and I hush, moaning slightly.

"You have very soft skin, Kurt Hummel," he says.

"You have very soft lips, Mister Parker," he smiles an he kisses me more.

"Say Mister Parker one more time," he requests.

"Mister Parker," I whisper quietly and he pushes his hips downward, pressing himself against me.

His erection- oh god he's erected by me. He grinds over me, over and over and torturously over again. The material of his pants grazes with my denims and I feel the sensation in my stomach- my own erection yearning to be free.

His hand goes to my back and lifts me up slightly, his lips still on mine. He tugs my tshirt over my head and tosses it to the floor. Those eyes molest my chest, gleaming with pleasure.

"God are you sexy," he says before he crashes his soft pillow of lips onto mine again.

My fingers fumble with the buttons on his dress shirt, slowly undoing them one by one and pulling the excess cloth out from his pants. He parts from me for a heartbeat and shrugs off his shirt.

He's unreal- his body looks unreal. His abs are tight and toned, his chest hard as stone, the amazing structure of his collar bones.

He's slightly tanned, which looks so good on him. I want him so bad and my finger traces the lines of his pecs. He smiles at me in amusement.

"You like?" he tilts his head.

"Very much," I say before he falls on me and kisses me roughly in that expert way he knows how to.

He grasp both my wrist gently and puts my hands over my head, holding them there with a modicum of strength. His lips then slowly begin to descend from my mouth. He kisses my chin, his tongue grazes down my jaw. I tug slightly on my wrist but he holds them securely over my head, restraining me.

God I am so turned on.

He kisses my neck, slowly, gently leaving a ghost of the sensation as he places one kiss after another all over my neck. He nibbles on a portion of my neck, and I moan in the quiet apartment.

He lives another ghostly kiss before his lips travels lower. My hands are still restrained over my head. The feeling is excruciating and aggravating not being able to feel him, but the sensation duplexes as he does all the dirty work on me, not allowing me to move.

Those lips are on my chest now, kissing them and then he clasp his teeth with my right nipple and I forget between heaven and earth.

"Gabe," I moan his name like a prayer.

He teases my nipple with his teeth and flicks his tongue across the sensitivity and I grow frustrated and tug on my wrist, but he holds them over my head. It makes the feeling even more sensual, not being able to move while he tortures me sexually.

He does the same with my left nipple and I scream in a hushed manner. My legs are rigid as I try hard to cope with the sensation, what with not being able to move my hands. His lips descend lower onto my abdominal and he plants random kisses over my stomach before he rises and takes me away with a kiss.

"You're fucking sexy, Kurt," he breathes and I gasp as his hot breath brushes against my lips.

He lets go of my hands and I am free to wonder my fingers across his strong structured, muscular back. He's so physically well toned, I trace his spine and he kisses me harder.

"Shall we take this to your bedroom?" he says then.

My eyes flicker to the TV where the credits are rolling. "Well, the show is over," I shrug with a grin.

"Oh baby, the show's only begun," he smiles as he hoist me up and carries me into the bedroom, my legs on either side of his body, clinging onto him, my hands wrapped behind his neck.

His hands grasp on my butt as he carries me into the bedroom, our lips still moving.

"This ass," he says forwardly.

He places me gently on the edge of my bed before sliding above me, our legs hanging off the mattress as he kisses me again. I fumble with his zipper, wanting to release him. He smiles and stands up, undo his hook and drops his pants. His white boxer briefs do no justice to hide his erection, and my god is he big.

He expertly undo the button of my jeans and pulls them off with one swift tug. His eyes widen as he looks at my naked body.

"No underwear?" he says in amusement.

I blush shyly, feeling stupid to be so bare in front of this man who looks like he is a model ripped out of a MensHealth magazine. He smiles before pulling down his boxer briefs and his impressive member springs to life. I wonder vaguely how good that would feel inside me- full.

He climbs over me again and adjust me so my head is on the pillow and he kisses me more, roughly. His fingers skim down my body and I shudder at his touch. He takes my erection in his hands and I think I'm in heaven.

He strokes the head of my sensitive cock with his thumb and I spas slightly under him. He grins and does the motion again. Oh lord the sexual torture.

"Gabe," I whisper his name again.

"I love it when you say my name. Say it again," he says as his thumb brushes on the line of my cock.

"Gabe," I breathe onto his lips.

"Fuck," he curses and presses his hips onto me, our erection pressed against each other. I throw my legs over him and wrap it around his strong hips as he thrust his hips, rubbing onto me.

"Your body does things to me," he says. "I want you, bad," he breathes again. "I want to be inside you, so bad. Say yes, please," he begs as he licks my earlobe.

"Yes, please," I say without hesitancy.

He clambers off me and and lay, facing me, his body sideways. He puts his finger on the tip on my lips then.

"Suck," he orders before pushing his long middle finger into my mouth. I suck it gingerly, twisting and turning my tongue around and around his finger. I hear him sharply intake his breath and he kisses my sensitive nipple again.

He pulls the finger out and trails down my body, slowly and tantalizingly across my skin. I shudder again as his touch skims through until it's right in front of my screaming entrance.

I glance over at him and he's watching me with those green eyes. He leans forward, kisses me once before his finger intrudes my ring muscle and I tense and moan. God, the feeling of his finger inside me- the feeling of him inside me is indescribable.

He works his way deeper inside me as my body thrashes slightly and tenses, my legs especially, as he goes deeper and deeper. The pain is pleasure.

He pulls out then for a moment, and there is an uncomfortable burning sensation before he thrust his finger deeper and I scream his name again. He follows his rhythm, inward and outward and I follow with each moan. He crooks his finger, hitting my sweet spot and I lose my logics.

"Fu-fuck Gabe," I say.

He pulls out, thrust inside me again and crooks his finger. The feeling is beyond the world, beyond even the seventh sky.

He pulls the finger out of me abruptly, leaving me yearning for more of him.

"There," I point to the dresser behind him for the condoms and the lube. I mentally congratulate myself for stocking up.

He stands and goes to the switch of the light, flickers it shut, before going to my side lamp and flickering it on. The room is now dim and I see the light lick across his side frame as he clambers on top of me. He takes my shoulders and pulls me to a sit down position and tells me to turn around.

I do so and my knees press into the mattress. I feel his heat radiating onto my back. A sense of thrill courses through my spine as I await the sweet, sweet sensation of anal sex.

His big, strong hands snakes his way to my front. One hand goes to my erection, his fingers coiling around it and the other hand goes to my hard, sensitive nipple and his finger catches it with a slight pinch that i feel go down to my groin.

"You're so sexy, Kurt. So, so sexy. I'm sorry I made you lose you job," he whispers to my ear.

I giggle, feeling stupid. "I'm not sorry i threw that coffee at you," I say and I feel him grin.

His chest presses onto my back and he pushes me forward slightly, so I am bent forward. I feel him hovering over my entrance, and then swiftly he pushes himself in and I scream aloud at the intrusion.

Fuck, he's big. He fills me, fills my carnal hunger, awaken the sinners in me as he goes deeper inside of my body. I breath heavily as he fills the emptiness, the stretch of my hole pains but I don't care.

His hand starts to pump my erection simultaneously as his fingers pinch and twirls on my nipple. All my places of sacred are dominated and I cannot suppress my moans, and screams of utter ecstasy. Fuck this feels so good.

He pulls out slowly, aggravatingly before thrusting deeper inside me and I scream, loud. The sensation of his touch makes me go wild and I feel myself building.

"You're so hot baby, so hot," he mutters as he pulls out, and thrust deeper going at an increasing pace.

"Gabe- Gabe please," I beg for more and he thrust.

Soon he's pounding into me and I'm lost on a far, distant world. In an oblivion as he follows a rhythmic pace of inward and outward motion, faster and faster each time.

I'm climbing, higher and higher.

He hits that sweet spot of mine constantly and I don't know what to feel. His touch all over me is aggravating and so, so good. My mind swirls into nothingness and my body thrashes at every pound.

I cannot hold myself any longer. I'm high, going higher with every thrust on his expert hips. His hand pumps rough and hard on me and the tantalizing sensation on my nipple threatens to set me off.

With one, grand, rough thrust into my sweet stop, my body convulses, hard as I crumble all around, screaming for mercy as my orgasm alleviates my thoughts as I find my sweet release.

"Fuck," he groans and soon finds his own release, screaming my name as we both crumble into pleasure.

--------

The morning glory streams through the seams of my curtain. I flutter my eyelids momentarily from the brightness, and remember that there is a man in my bed. A naked man whom I had sex with last night. The thought makes me giggle like a stupid child.

I carefully spin on my side and turn to look at Gabe, who is facing the other direction, his back to me. But hot damn if that's not the hottest back I've ever seen I don't know what is. His spine goes down and lifts where his perky ass is. His back muscles protrudes and I resist the urge to skim the outline. He's snoring slightly and the sound is calming.

Last night was honestly top five in my list of 'Good Sex' - a mental list, don't worry I'm not creepy- I've never convulsed that hard before, never had someone pound into me that hard before. His fingers are skillful and godsend. That slightest touch can set me off like a cutter to a defusing bomb. My mind runs back to how sweaty we both were by the end of it and simply laid next to each other, panting and breathing heavily until Gabe fell asleep.

I remember then that I have Ballet History at eight thirty- and Gabe is teaching that class.

I don't mind missing it though because as much fun as it is listening to my lecturer talk about ballet, it's more fun to be naked, in bed with my lecturer. But I'll feel guilty if everyone misses a day of lecture because of me so I brace myself to wake him, even though I don't want to - because he's hot when he sleeps. He's hot always.

I carefully sit upright, not wanting the sprints to squeak and inhale, and exhale slowly. Calming myself.

"Gabe?" I say cautiously, gently shaking his fine, fine shoulders.

"Hmm?" he says in an adorable sleepy voice I cannot suppress or hide my blush.

"It's seven thirty. You- we have class at eight thirty," I tell. A silence follows and it seems that was the least impactful wake-up call. "Gabe?"

"Hmm?" he mumbles again.

"Class. Eight thirty. It's seven thirty now." Gabe is still silent as if I hadn't said anything. "Gabe!" I shake him and he abruptly jolts and pushes me down onto the bed and climbs over me.

He attacks me with a kiss, his morning breath in my mouth but I don't care. He presses his hips onto me- Oh god he's horny, I feel him.

"Good morning," he grins.

"Morning," I manage to mutter through my stunned manner.

"You woke me up. I was having a really nice dream," he says.

"I'm sorry," I say.

"You should be. I was fucking you in that dream."

I am momentarily stunned. He dreamt about me- naked me. I can't hide my blush as I feel the hear rise on cheeks. Oh this man makes me feel so desired, I won't hide it.

"That can turn into a reality, you know."

His rows raise in a smirk and he lowers down so his lips are right above mine. "Is that so?" he says and I feel his tantalizing finger skin down my stomach again.

"Yes," I breathe.

He smiled and hoist my legs up in the air, my entrance is at his mercy. I gasp and await for his sweet, sweet member to intrude me and fulfill good morning promise.
------

"So, lunch later?" I ask when we're both out of the shower and he's pulling on his boxer briefs again.

I can't tear my eyes away from his naked body as he slowly dresses. He really is a God sent to this earth with the sole intention of destroying ever heart- and ass- in this world.

"Can't. Long day a the gallery," he tells me.

I am disappointed and wonder why his tone was so clipped. The words of those ballerinas haunt back to me and I wish I hadn't heard them, or kicked their mouths shut when they spoke. He notices that my face falls and he tilts his head in wonder.

"What's wrong?" he frowns.

"Nothing," I tell.

"Tell me."

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Please tell me?" he sounds earnest, dutifully wants to know what the matter at hand is.

I smile briefly at him, hoping it reassures him of my pretense but he walks forward and cups my chin with his hands and looks down at me with those warm, emerald orbs.

"What's wrong," he says sternly.

"It's just- it's fine it's just stupid gossip in school that I shouldn't even be listening to-"

"What is it, Kurt?" he says soothingly, softly tickling my chin.

I sigh, wanting so bad to resign from this conversation and regretting that I allowed my emotions to show in my face. I exhale slowly and brace myself to tell him.

"A couple of stupid ballerinas told me that- that you're the type of guy who 'humps and dump'," I use my fingers to air quote. "Because they heard that we're dating. I know they're just trying to pick a bone with me but I can't help but to wonder, you know? Because I don't know you all that well, I mean sure you've told me about yourself and everything but I've always had trust issues I mean just ask my dad so I just- I don't know what they're saying is true and I'm afraid to ask you because I don't want you to get the wrong impression I just I'm sorry," I stop myself because I realize that I'm rambling.

He studies me, his green eyes unreadable as he watches my face. I am nervous for what is to come. Those eyes seem to look into me, my soul feels exploited.

"Do you believe them?" he ask, tilting his head to the side. He looks so adorable. I learn he doesn't play fair.

"I don't- I don't know, Gabe. I barely know you," I say timidly.

He looks at me again, and then suddenly sits down next to me on the edge of my bed. He crosses his legs and stares at me, his eyes gleaming and simply spectacular.

"How about you ask me what you need to know," he tells.

I am momentarily perplexed. He smiled encouragingly at me. The corners of his lips upturn and his dimple- yes he has dimples.

"I don't- I don't know what to ask,"
I admit, because I am at a loss for words.

"Well, there's a vast, vast spectrum of questions you can ask really. Shoot," he says casually, like he has nothing to hide.

I compose myself. This is what I wanted right? To dig into his depths?

"Okay, is that rumor true?" I ask nervously.

"No," he says. "In fact, I've never slept with anyone that I'm not interested in- for the long haul."

I lose my ability to process oxygen to carbon dioxide. Does this mean he's in this with my for the long haul?

"How many people have you dated, exactly?" I can do this. I try to manifest a foreign confidence.

"Well, I've been on plenty dates, but there's only one that I've ever been interested in. You," he tells.

"Me?" I ask in disbelief. That can't be true.

He nods.

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why, Gabe? I'm- I'm me. I'm nothing special. You- you're you with you stupid gorgeous smile as your eyes like sapphires and your passion with Ballet. I'm just me. Plain ol' me. Why would anyone like you be interested in me?" I get that off my chest.

He looks at me as if I'm a zoo animal. His frown lines dig deep into his forehead. He's still sitting there, legs crossed, looking adorable bare chested with boxer briefs.

"Are you nuts?" he says with amusement.

"What?"

"You're amazing, Kurt. You're interesting, you're tenacious. There's something about you that draws me in. It's your past, it's your future, it's your dreams, it's the way you blush, it's your smile, it's those eyes of yours. You're far from plain. You're beautiful, one of the most beautiful man I've ever met. Don't, for a second, doubt how amazing you are, okay?" he stands and strolls towards where I am standing and places his hands on either side of my arms.

"I am not that guy those ballerinas say I am. I mean honestly how reliable are ballerinas? I'm a one man kind of guy, and I'm hoping that man would be you."

His eyes bore into me intently, I feel as if he's dismantling me part by part with that stare. It practically burns into my skin.

"I want you to be that man for me too," I squeak so quietly even I couldn't hear myself, but because Gabe is perfect everything he heard micro sounds too.

"Good. God, Kurt, you don't understand the things you do to me," he leans forward and crashes his lips onto mine. "How long do we have?" he breathes into my mouth.

"Thirty five minutes to get to NYADA. It's a twenty minute walk from here."

"Great. Another round?" he smirks salaciously.

"Hell yes," I say an tug his boxer briefs down because I know he wants me as much as I want him, though it's hard to grasp that fact.

-------

"You're coming tonight, I presume?" Gabe ask as we walk back to NYADA from our coffee run- a routine thing since we established a relationship. At least I think we did.

"Yeah. Eleanor sent me an invite VIA email. Do I see you there?"

"I have to be there early, backstage to ensure everything goes smoothly, but I'll try to run out between intervals to see you?"

"Okay," I beam. "I'm excited for tonight. I can finally introduce you to Blaine."

"Have you told him about us?" Gabe asks, his hand clutching on mine as we walk down the busy streets of Manhattan at noon.

"No, in fact I have spoke to him for a few days," I tell.

"Why?" Gabe asks.

"Been really busy, and I bet he's swamped at work."

I'm lying. I haven't called Blaine for three days because I've been with Gabe almost every day- morning, afternoon, and at night we go to my place and..well you get it. Thing is, it's not true that when you spend too much time with someone, you'll grow bored of them. It's not the case with Gabe. Every day feels new and fresh with him. Also, I'm hesitating to tell Blaine that Gabe and I are together because I have have good guess to what he's going to say.

We arrive outside NYADS and Gabe swirls me around and press our chest together, our faces inches apart.

"This is where we say goodbye," he says and he pouts like a baby.

I laugh. "Tonight?"

"I'll see you there, and put on something hot- not that you anything on you doesn't look hot. Even this outfit-"

"Embracing a casual look today," I shrug.

"Well you look hot, always," he says and kisses me, publicly. Oh the thrill.

"See you tonight," he whispers to me and I manage a simple nod before he releases me. He gives a wink and strolls away into the crowd of New York, disappearing from my view and I still wonder how someone like that can even remotely want to be with me.

I am beyond nervous for tonight- beyond. Besides the fact that Gabe will probably introduce me to the rest of his artsy friends who will stare me down and wonder what the hell is Gabe thinking wasting his time with a plain canvas like me, I'll be seeing Blaine too tonight and that means telling him about my relationship with Gabe.

I know what he's going to think and what he's going to say- because I know his protective nature over me. But this relationship, it's something I've ever had before and it feels good.

I contemplate to call him. I haven't called him since that night Gabe and I slept together, and to be perfectly honestly I rejected most of his calls because he calls me whenever I'm with Gabe. Full on guilt and nerves, I pull my iPhone out and scroll for his contact.

The ringing tone rhythms into my ears in steady gaps before it ends and Blaine speaks. "Well if it isn't my estrange bestfriend," he says.

"I'm sorry," I say sincerely. "I'm sorry I haven't spoken to you in awhile."

"Three days to be exact," he says. Oh, he counted?

"I feel bad," I say.

"Yes you should feel bad for rejecting my calls." There is no trace of humor in his speech and I feel a cold sweat running down my back.

"I'm sorry," I say with earnest, deep apology.

"What have you been busy with?" he ask.

"Oh- just school and stuff. I have to put together a tango piece for the devil's mistress so I've been swamped," I try to avoid telling him that I've been spending my long, hot days with Gabe- well at least until tonight.

"What is 'stuff'?" he emphasizes.

"Just- other stuff," I say.

"You're very secretive. Since when?" Oh lord I cannot handle this. Maybe a change of conversation course?

"Are you going to your mum's show tonight?" I ask, crossing my fingers I've successfully derailed his inquisition.

"Duh. It's mandatory, she says. Are you? You better. I cannot do a family event without you or sober."

I laugh, glad he's less stern. "Yes, I am aware of that, Blaine. Yes, I'll be there your mum invited me. And I have to tell you something," I say nervously.

"What?" he ask.

"Tonight? I'll tell you when I see you."

"Why can't you just tell me now?"

"I just- have to tell you something tonight, okay?" I say, hoping that suffices.

"I think I'd prefer to know now," he says.

"Later, Blaine," I roll my eyes.

"Fine, but just so you know I have a lot of work to do but now I can't help but to wonder what is it you have to tell me so in all, you botched my job."

"Ha ha," I feign. "I'll see you tonight."

"Pre cocktails?"

"Can I just see you there? I end really late and I have to rush."

"I can ask Marcus to get you-"

"Don't bother your driver for my sake, Blaine. God. I'll see you tonight I'm late for class-"

"Kurt?"

"What?" I say exasperatedly.

"It's good to hear your voice after three days," he says, and he sounds honest.

"You too," I smile because I truly do miss my best friend too.

------

Eleanor Anderson is known for being lavish, extravagant, expensive and absolutely, absolutely over the top.

So when she has a big, New York Fashion Show of her own line, naturally it will be as big as the MET Gala cum MTV Music Awards.

The outer arena is illuminated like a Christmas tree, or the Empire State during Christmas. Bright, yellow spotlights cast over the three storey town building, painted white with glass panels on either side. There is a red carpet that leads into the building where on either side, photographers are snapping away behind red velvet ropes.

I show the bouncer my invite and he allows me through. None of the photographers snap my picture as I scurry up the red carpet into the building- what a boost to my self esteem.

The inside is just as grand as the outside- even more, which I thought was impossible.

A long, white runaway centers the ground floor where it interlocks with a white wall that opens on either side. Metal paneled chairs are placed in neat rows on either side of the long white trail. It's elegant, it's simple for someone like Eleanor, but just when I thought she took a subtle take on her night, a huge chandelier dangles on the ceiling where it sparkles and breaks the pink lights into smaller mediums.

Yup, over the top.

An upbeat rhythm is bouncing around the room and people are already seated. Gabe is probably busy backstage so I sought out for my bestfriend. I see an open bar pressed at a far corner and I know he's there.

As a group of woman, all dressed well above the value of billions clear away to take their seats, I have a clear view of the bar counter and I see him, Blaine. He has an arm resting on the counter, a drink of no doubt Bourbon in his other hand. He looks good, slick in a navy tux, with a bleached out grey dress shirt inside.

He meets my stare and waves at me, smiling in the goofy way he does.

"I've missed you," he says when I approach him and he wraps me into a gentle hug.

"Me too," I say as I reciprocate his gesture.

"You look good," he says as we part from our short longing embrace and studies my outfit. My suit is a deep washed red, black trimmings and black cufflinks. My dress shirt is black, with a little silver chain running from one sharp end of the collar to the other.

"Thanks, you too," I say.

"So why exactly have you been dodging my calls?" he ask, taking a swig of his drink.

"I haven't been dodging them-"

"Sure," he says sarcastically.

"I've been really busy okay! Come on, I don't want to argue with you. How's work doing?" I ask.

"Fine. Cooper might end up falling from his office window, onto the streets of Manhattan."

"Oh my god that's right. Your dad hired Cooper to co Vice President with you," I say, feeling guilty I forgot about it.

"Yeah," he says, annoyed.

"I'm sorry, okay? School's been hectic what with it being my final year and all," I try to appeal to his better nature I know is usually only reserved for me.

"It's fine," he sighs. "He's just been a real pain at work making me feel like a child-"

"A child?" I frown.

"He calls me 'squirm' in the office, in front of all my employees."

"What? That's so- immature," I cannot hide the grin on my face though.

"Why are you smiling then?" He says, clearly aware of my smile.

"Because if I were your employees I'd laugh watching my meanie boss get bullied by his own brother."

"I'm not amused," Blaine says

"Of course you're not. The joke is on you," I smile and he grins too.

"Oh, what's the latest with your sexy prof? Did you screw him over?" he ask and I gulp.

"Blaine- I need to tell you something."

"Oh right, yeah what is it?"

"I-"

We are interrupted when Eleanor Anderson walks down the runway and everybody begins to clap gracefully. Blaine and I are apparently the only ones still not in our seats.

"Later, come on," I say as I tug on his sleeve and we stumble our way to the front row where Blaine's mum had reserved us for VIP seats.

She probably did so because she knows she would have a harder time getting Blaine to come if she had seated we somewhere far off. The woman despises me in secret but she knows well that getting me means getting Blaine.

"Welcome, everyone. I thank you all for your presence this evening," Eleanor addresses. "Fashion is like an art to me. It requires meticulous precision, imagination, creativity- there are no rules, hence why I chose this particular venue to début my collection, the Art Of Ballet gallery. I'd like to thank mister Gabe Parker who so graciously granted me permission to host my show here. Where better place to showcase art than in a gallery that houses a timeless art like Ballet, right? Without further ado, I present you, Eleanor's Summer Couture."

A round of applause follows as Eleanor takes a dip before clicking her heels back up the runway. The lights begin to dim, only the runway illuminated with spotlights that lessen up to the very front. It's a spectacular view from my seat.

"Gabe Parker?" Blaine whispers questioningly to me and I tense. "Isn't he-"

I'm thankful then that the music begins to play. Gentle, yet upbeat. No lyrics, just rhythm. Is perfect and the thumpa thumpa vibrates my heart.

A tall girl steps onto the runaway. She is donned in one of Eleanor's designs. It's a black floral dress that flares at her waits, but there's a red mesh overlay. Her accessories are excessively granted and her plain black wedges subtle the look. Her legs are long as she walks down the runaway, her fade expressionless. She looks stunning, though I can't help but to think if she looks that good without make-up.

Models after models they step onto the runway and shimmer down uber confidence as they strut the catwalk, obviously working the cameras more than the crowd.

"She's outdone herself," I yell to Blaine over the deafening music.

Soon, the show concludes are the final girl, donned in the finale, jaw dropping dress steps on and struts down. It's a gorgeous long down, with a thigh high slit. A floral train shadows her footsteps. It's backless but there is a mesh detailing that semi covers back spine.

Gorgeous.

Eleanor walks out and waves thankfully as people applaud her artistic genius. I too am on my feet cheering on Blaine's mother. I may not be that fond of her as he is with me, but there is no denying the woman knows her stuff.

She bows before disappearing backstage.

-----

"Your lecturer owns this gallery?" Blaine ask as the show concludes and we're heading up to the second floor for the after party

"I told you that before," I say glumly.

"You did? Oh that means he's here then! Finally I get to see just how sexy this guy is."

I gulp and nervously try to prepare telling Blaine about the established relationship. He's still under the impression that nothing serious has progressed between me as Gabe- little did he know.

The second floor is a large room, with one portion made of a tinted glass. The place is already bustling with models and fashion designers and celebrities. I think I briefly saw Vera Wang.

"Drink?" Blaine ask and I follow him to the open bar. Alcohol, yes that's what I need.

There are loud cheers and claps and everyone's attention turns to the stairs where Eleanor just ascended from. She smiled and waves at everyone as she gets pulled into conversations already.

I see him then. Gabe.

He looks drop dead handsome as he always is in a fitted black leather blazer with khaki colored snug pants. Damn he looks good tonight. His eyes are gleaming when they meet mine and he gracefully makes his way through the crowd.

This is it.

"Hey there stranger," he says and he kisses my cheek.

I sort of wish he saved the affection- if that's crazy to believe- because just as he kisses me, I feel Blaine's confused stare burn into me. I turn around to his face him and swallow my lump of nerves.

"Blaine, I'd like you to meet Gabe. My boyfriend," I say.

---------

His triangular brows shoot to the heavens, his eyes widen, practically those eyeballs popping out from their sockets. He stares at me for what feels like ages if not eons.

"Urm- Gabe, this is my bestfriend Blaine," I tell him.

"Finally nice to meet The Blaine Anderson. Kurt speaks very fondly of his bestfriend," Gabe says politely, extending a hand to Blaine.

Blaine's eyes are still widen to me. It feels like he stared at me forever and I don't know what to make of that stare. Finally, he inhales.

"Nice to meet the guy who made Kurt lose his job," Blaine says as he takes Gabe's hand in a gentle, firm shake.

I look at him and practically beg him like the African children suffer for water with my eyes to please, please hold his tongue, but Gabe takes it lightly.

"Odd as it may sound, I'm glad he threw that coffee at me. Besides, I think I did him a favor more than anything," he laughs.

I wonder briefly what that even means but I am too caught up in fear of what Blaine might say. I can tell by his eyes that we're going to be arguing about this later.

"So, when did this happen?" his finger jumps from Gabe to me, and again.

Gabe looks at me and I know he wants me to tell it to Blaine. Oh lord he's going to judge me so bad.

"Well, uhm I don't know. How does anything happen really. It just- it just happened," I say vaguely. Blaine's smile is giving me chills.

"So, Gabe, you're Kurt's teacher, right?"

Oh my god. I am raging and I'm begging him to hold his bloody tongue but he glances at me and smile. Thank laughs light. I know he's at a loss too.

"Well, technically I'm his lecturer-"

"So then this is legal?" Blaine has this confident smirk on his face, like the time we both went back to Lima after his name ranked second in Times magazine and he bumped onto Noah Puckerman who used to torment him in high school.

"Well, yeah. But I don't think law would have even stopped me from dating Kurt."

I blush hard under the eyes of both Blaine and Gabe. I am secretly hoping a hole would open up and drop me into a chasm of some sort.

"Oh so you don't abide by the law. Very promising," he shows his thumbs up to me.

Fuck. I need to intervene and I can sense Gabe getting uncomfortable too.

"Well it was very nice to meet you, Blaine," Gabe says, though I know he's being sardonic, he hides it well. "Kurt always talks about his bestfriend who helped him get through high school. It's finally nice to meet the person who holds a huge part in my boyfriend's life."

The way he said 'boyfriend', it sounded so..possessive, and proud. I feel a little turned on by his testament.

"Ditto," Blaine says, gently shaking Gabe's hand. I want to slap him for his immaturity.

"Can I introduce you to my friends now?" Gabe whispers to me in the loud bustling of music and chatter around us.

"Please," I nod to him.

Blaine is still watching me and I know he has a whole speech written of why he thinks otherwise of Gabe and my relationship. I'm glad my knight is here to whisk me away from my distress.

"Can we talk later? I know you I owe you an explanation-"

"You're damn right you do," he says and my pores tighten.

"Tomorrow, breakfast. On me?" I try to appeal to that better in nature Blaine. Pancakes is like his grease to a rusty chain.

He doesn't say anything, so I hug him and hope it sums as apology. His arms snake around me and he hugs me back and I'm glad he does.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I say.

"Yeah," he looks down, and disappointed. I feel guilty as I watch his figure slowly disappear when Gabe tugs me through the crowd and I find myself in the middle of a group of snobbish, artsy assholes.

I can't help but to wonder where did Blaine go.

-------

"Good morning sexy," I hear a man greeting from somewhere in front of my bed frame.

My eyes flutter and try to adjust to the brightness before I am greeted with the mighty fine sight of Gabe shirtless and pulling on his khaki colored pants.

"Good morning," I say hoarsely. "And what a good sight too."

"You like?" he teases, doing a spin.

"Very much," I smile. "Though why are you up? You're suppose to be in bed naked with me. It's Saturday," I pout, though I feel stupid and ugly doing so.

"I have a meeting with a few of my colleagues this morning. I'm sorry," he says. He walks forward and slides on top of me. "Can I make it up to you by being naked in your bed in the afternoon?"

"Okay," I smile shyly. "I have breakfast with Blaine today anyway."

His gleaming, heart stopping smile disappears. I know he isn't Blaine's number one fan. I can tell.

"I'm sorry about his behavior last night."

"It's fine," he feigns.

"He's just- stunned, I think. I mean the last time I talked to him I did call you the asshole that made me lose my job," I laugh.

"Yeah, I guess," he shrugs.

"Hey, what?" I ask, brushing my fingers into those locks.

"It's just- your bestfriend disapproves of me. I kinda feel- sad that he feels that way."

"What? Don't be sad. Blaine doesn't know you and heck I wouldn't care if he doesn't like you. I like you."

"I like you too," he laughs and kisses me. "Promise he won't come in between us?"

"Promise," I say.

He kisses me chaste again, my fingers trailing down his spine. "I love it when you do that," he whispers. "Turns me the fuck on."

"Good, I want you turned on."

--------

I enter the Rozz's Diner. It's a small little food joint at the corner of West street. Blaine loves the place because they serve pancakes from morning to night.

I see Blaine already in a booth, blackberry in hand, donned in a slick all black suit. His hair is gelled down and I have to fight the urge to go there and ruffle it out of it's prison. He thinks it makes him look professional, I think it makes him look like a douche bag.

"Hey," I greet and he looks up.

"Well, well if it isn't little mister full of secrets."

"Right in the face ," I say glumly as I take a seat. "Why are you dress so formally? It's Saturday."

"I have brunch with a few clients. So tell me Kurt, since we're here, how did the rude jackass who made you lose your job just suddenly becomes your boy toy?"

"I did tell you we kissed that first night we went to dinner-"

"Coffee, you said. I didn't know a kiss automatically leads to an established relationship? What is this, the 80s?"

"I like him, okay? He makes me feel good and he's an interesting man-"

"But what do you really know about him, Kurt? You've known this guy, what five seconds and you're already establishing a boyfriend- boyfriend relationship?"

"Because I like him-"

"Yes but you know nothing about him. Has he been tested before? Is he married? You don't know these things you just jumped into bed with him because he thinks you're hot."

"Are you fucking serious? You jump into bed with guys every night because you think they think you're hot!"

"Yes but the difference is I don't intend of having a relationship with any of them."

"Do not compare my relationship with your one night fucking stands, okay? Sure I don't know Gabe all that well but that's what relationships are for, discovering new things about each other."

"No, that's what dating is for. Relationships is if you're done discovering all there is to discover and still want him."

"Why are you so against this?" I cross my arms and stare him down.

"Because you don't know him and I'm your bestfriend. I want to make sure he's good for you."

"He is-"

"Yes because you can determine that in three days," Blaine says sardonically.

"How about you get to know him first before you determine he's not good for me-"

"I think you should determine that before I do. Besides, some of my friends tell me he's a jackass."

"What friends?" I frown.

"I asked about him at the party last night from some of my friends who knows him. They say he's a jackass."

"Is there a further elaboration to that accusation?"

"They say he's a snobby prick."

I frown. Blaine is obviously making things up because he wants the best for me. What he doesn't get is that Gabe is the best for me. He's everything that I ever wished for in a man.

"Why? Because he's successful and well off?"

"No, because he flaunts his success and he's a prick."

"Being proud of yourself does not make you a prick."

"If you flaunt it and deem everyone less than you, then yes."

"You should get to know him before you make accusations."

"Fine. Schedule a dinner and I'll get to know him," Blaine says finally.

"Good, because as annoying as you are, I would actually want my bestfriend to like the person I date."

"I'm happy for you, Kurt, I always want what's best for you but you don't know this guy I don't want you getting hurt. I have never wanted that."

"I know," I sigh defeatedly. "So can we move on from this topic? I want to know what you've been up to."

"A little ass here and there, and physically restraining myself from choking Cooper at work."

"He's still bothering you?"

"Very much," Blaine tells. "But I find it suspicious."

"What is?" I ask, intrigued.

"That he suddenly jumps from being a lawyer to join the family company. He's never been interested. Why now, what changed."

"Maybe he realizes just how big your family company is and he wants in?" I try. It is indeed something that picks at my scalp. I know Cooper and he's like Gabe. He talks very passionately about his job, being a lawyer. He loves it but now suddenly he wants to join the Anderson kingdom.

"There is gossip though. Swirling around the office. That's why I have Clara."

"What gossip?"

"They say he got axed from his firm."

"What?" I frown. "He's like the best lawyer there."

"I agree, unfortunately," Blaine scoffs. He despises his brother but he knows fair well that Cooper is one of the best lawyers in town. The whole Anderson family basically are gifted in a variety of ways.

"Have you asked him?"

"I try to avoid him, Kurt."

"Your dad?"

"Maybe. But he'll never tell. Too busy wanting to paint the perfect description of Cooper I doubt he'll ever let slip of the real reason why he hired Cooper."

"Well, I am very aware that you always have ways to find things out. Use those dark abilities of yours to poke into the lives of others."

"You know me so well," he smiles and I'm glad the tension is afar.

"There you are. Enjoy," the waitress name Libby says politely before she skirts away.

"Does Gabe like pancakes?" he ask and I know he's poking me.

"I don't know," I roll my eyes at his triumph smile.