Chapter 5

Blaine does his best to avoid Kurt's eyes during class on Thursday and to avoid him altogether as much as he can over the next few days, but they still have their lessons twice a week and glee every afternoon. He catches Kurt staring on several occasions, but it only serves to make him more determined that he keep his relationship with Kurt on a strictly professional level.

After their first lesson, Blaine could no longer deny that he is attracted to Kurt. The moment between them in the choir room was dangerously close to being a fireable offense. If not for Rachel Berry's impeccable timing (thanks to her overinflated drive to be a Broadway superstar) Blaine may have made a very grave error in judgment. And he knows he can't risk putting himself in that kind of position again.

"You have to separate yourself from this," Wes says when Blaine confides in him that night. "You're on a slippery slope, Blaine."

"I know, I know….FUCK! What is wrong with me?"

"Hormones," Wes says simply. "I mean, when was the last time you got laid?"

"It's not like that," Blaine insists. "I'm not having sexual fantasies about the kid. I just feel drawn to him; I can't explain it."

It's the complete truth. Blaine can't explain his attraction to Kurt. And it's definitely more than lust, that much he's sure of. Kurt is certainly sexy in a subtle and unassuming way, but that's not what has Blaine intrigued. He feels an inexplicable pull toward Kurt that extends beyond physical desire and into a deep, unmistakable, and ultimately really scary, connection.

"Then I think it's best if you just avoid him as much as possible."

"Yeah," Blaine says, still lost in his own thoughts.

"….And nix the private lessons," Wes adds.

That catches Blaine's attention.

"What?"

"You really shouldn't be alone with him," Wes says. "Considering the circumstances."

"Yeah, I suppose that would be a good idea." Blaine's not entirely convinced, and Wes keeps talking.

"And maybe go on date or something with someone your own age. At least get out of the house," Wes says. "Isn't there a gay bar nearby?"

"Scandals?" Blaine scoffs. "It's like an obstacle course of STDs and middle-aged bears. I don't think I could stand it."

"Well, you need to figure out something before you jump all over some pimply faced kid and scar him for life."

"He's not pimply faced," Blaine mutters.

"Whatever he is or isn't," Wes says, "developing anything other than a strictly platonic relationship with him is highly illegal and likely to get you fired ... Stay. Away."

"I know, I know," Blaine concedes, suddenly very done with the discussion. "Listen, I have grading to do. Thanks for the talk."

"Anytime, man."

After Blaine hangs up, he thinks about what Wes had said, and knows his best friend is right, but whenever he thinks about telling Kurt he can't work with him one-on-one anymore, all he can picture is Kurt looking sad and dejected, and it breaks his heart.

He worries over it all weekend and by Monday, he's come to a decision. He'll take Wes' advice…well some of it anyway.

The truth is, the more he thought about it, he just can't bring himself to end the private lessons because he doesn't want to disappoint Kurt. He had been so excited to work on his range, and Blaine didn't want Kurt to think he was giving up on him. It sure seems like no one has ever given him — or his talent — much of a chance before. He'll just have to try not to think about Kurt as anything more than another talented student. And try to avoid any extraneous conversation. Or eye contact. And definitely no flirty duets.

It's relatively easy to avoid interacting with Kurt in a classroom of 25 students, but it becomes more difficult in a choir room of 12. And it's frankly impossible when it's just the two of them. But he manages to keep the conversations to a minimum and avoids all eye contact lasting longer than 1.2 seconds…give or take.

By the third week, Kurt seems to have had enough of Blaine refusing to look at him and only speaking when absolutely necessary, and he has started storming out of their lessons in a huff. They've not so much as exchanged a "From the top" or "Was that the right note?" since their first lesson, so Blaine can completely understand his frustration. But he refuses to give in. Kurt, on the other hand…

"Mr. Anderson, did I do something wrong?" Kurt asks after first period one Monday morning in early October.

"No, of course not, Kurt. Why would you think that?" Blaine says, erasing the board at the front of the room to avoid the temptation of looking at Kurt.

"Well, for starters you never look at me anymore," Kurt says. "And you barely speak to me."

"Kurt, I speak to you," Blaine says, still focusing on the board. "We're talking now."

"You know what I mean," Kurt says quietly. "I thought we were kind of…friends?"

The hurt in his voice is clear, and it weakens Blaine's resolve. He sighs and drops heavily into the chair behind his desk. After a moment, he tempts fate and glances up at Kurt, who looks pensive, sad, and so, so young.

"How old are you Kurt?" he asks.

"Seventeen," Kurt replies, blue eyes wide and questioning. "Does that matter?"

"Yes and no," Blaine says, unsure of how to explain.

Kurt tilts his head to the side and gives Blaine a perplexed look. Blaine leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, and looks up at his student, who is now leaning seductively on a desk in the front row. Does he even know what he looks like right now? He's all long limbs and sinewy muscles. Strong jaw. Perfect hair and rosy cheeks. It takes Blaine's breath away to even look at him.

"I'm not very good at explaining myself, am I?" Blaine asks rhetorically. He drags his hand down his face and drops it into his lap. "Listen Kurt, I'm going to be very clear with you about this because you're almost an adult now, at least in the law's eyes, and I think you'll understand." Blaine is gesturing with his hands as he talks, the only tell that his nerves are frazzled, and his heart feels like it's about to beat out of his chest.

"How can I put this?" He pauses, glancing up at the ceiling and taking a deep breath. "I don't think it's …" He exhales loudly. "…appropriate for us to be friends."

Kurt, for his part, looks unflappable as he raises an eyebrow and lifts his chin like he's steeling himself for a punch.

"Do you understand what I'm saying Kurt?" Blaine tries to plead with his eyes, praying that Kurt will make this easy on him.

"No," Kurt says, lifting his chin higher. He fidgets a little when Blaine gives him a pointed look. He knows Kurt felt the same spark that he had, and this boy is definitely not stupid. Blaine stares at him until Kurt sighs and says "Yes," barely above a whisper.

Blaine stands and steps closer to Kurt. He has to cross his arms over his chest in order to keep himself from placing a hand on his student's shoulder.

"Kurt, I'm your teacher," he says gently. "This needs to be completely above board. I can't risk my job by being your friend, and you know people will talk if we get too close."

He knows they both feel the extra meaning Blaine puts on the word "friend," and Kurt practically winces when Blaine says it.

"I know…it's just… Can't you at least treat me like you did before?" Kurt says, his voice sounding frantic in its quiet restraint. "It was nice having a teacher at this stupid excuse for a school be nice to me for a change."

Kurt looks like he's on the verge of tears, forcing himself to look anywhere but at Blaine. And yet, he looks so beautiful in that moment that Blaine has to grip his own elbows tightly to resist the urge to cup Kurt's face in his hand and dry his tears before they fall.

"Kurt…"

The sound of his name draws his eyes up to meet Blaine's and the emotion between them is palpable. It's taking everything they both have to not close the distance and indulge in a forbidden comfort. Blaine can see in Kurt's eyes that for all his youth, he understands that being in such close proximity and not being able to do anything about their attraction will be torture, but the thought of not being around each other at all is unbearable.

Blaine knows he's playing with fire, but he can't stop himself from smiling sadly at Kurt as he says, "We'll just have to be on our best behavior."

The smile on Kurt's face practically lights up the room.

"I heard you're giving Porcelain private vocal lessons," a voice from behind Blaine says as he's pouring a sludge-like cup of coffee from the pot in the teachers' lounge.

"Excuse me?" Blaine says turning around to face Sue. He gives her what he thinks is his most menacing glare. But if the smirk on her face is any indication, he's not intimidated her in the slightest.

"Oh don't play dumb with me, Blanderson," she sneers. "If you think you can hide anything from me at this sorry excuse for a school, I'll have your head on a platter sooner than I thought."

"Look, I don't know what I did to piss you off, but I hardly see how me giving a student help outside of class is a blackmail-worthy occurrence, let alone any of your business. Now if you don't mind, I'm late for class."

"Watch yourself, Hobbit," Sue calls out after him as he storms out of the lounge. "I've got my eye on you."

"Okay guys," Mr. Anderson says. "We need to get ready for sectionals and I've got a list of songs I want us to try out. So we'll be holding open auditions for the possible solos and featured parts."

Kurt looks over to see Rachel's face, contorted in barely contained rage, as Mr. Anderson continues. Over her shoulder, Kurt can see Mercedes smiling smugly. The contrast amuses him. It's such a change in circumstances, he can hardly believe it.

"The lead vocals will go to the singers whose voices are best suited for each song," Mr. Anderson continues. "And then we'll work on narrowing it down to three songs from there."

Rachel's still obviously unhappy with the new (read: fair) process of solo selection, but Mercedes is positively giddy, and even Santana is smiling a little.

Kurt tries to contain his own excitement when he asks, "What songs are on the list, Mr. Anderson?"

The teacher looks at Kurt and smiles. "Well, Kurt, I'm glad you asked. I think you'll all find something on this list you can relate to."

He passes a stack of papers to Quinn in the front row and motions for her to pass them around. Kurt takes a look at the paper when it reaches his hands and gasps. At the top of the list, bold as brass, is "I Want to Hold Your Hand." He looks up to find Mr. Anderson looking at him with concern.

"Mr. Anderson, this list is certainly … eclectic," Rachel says, disdain clear on her face. "But do you really think 'Teenage Dream' translates to show choir?"

"It's all in the arrangement," he replies with a grin. He looks at the group expectantly, but suddenly his face falls. Kurt glances around the room and sees lots of skeptical faces. Puck looks downright bored, and Santana is coloring Brittany's fingernails with a red Sharpie.

Kurt decides to help Mr. Anderson out a bit. "Tell us about the arrangement, Mr. Anderson," he says.

Mr. Anderson smiles. "I'll do you one better," he says, waggling his eyebrows. "You guys want to hear it?"

Before anyone can respond, Mr. Anderson points to Brad at the piano and the first bouncy notes of "Teenage Dream" are echoing through the choir room.

"Now if you can imagine, Mr. Anderson says, "the piano part will actually be vocals…you'll be singing it."

"He wants us to do it a cappella?" Rachel says in shock.

"My eye doctor says I shouldn't do that anymore," Brittany says quietly.

Kurt has his mouth open and is turning to his right to correct her, when he hears Mr. Anderson start to sing.

You think I'm pretty without any makeup on…

Kurt forgets whatever it was he was going to say to Brittany because the arrangement is good…really good. Mr. Anderson's facial expressions and dance moves completely change as he starts to get into the performance. His rich tenor gives the song new life. No, Kurt thinks, this isn't Mr. Anderson; this is Blaine. This is the same guy who bounded shamelessly around the Gap serenading an employee. This is the guy who wore a navy blazer and performed as the Warblers front man. It's his full-on stage persona, and Kurt Hummel is absolutely in love.

Practically all of New Directions is rapt as their teacher dances around the room singing Katy Perry at the top of his lungs. Kurt has stopped breathing, though, because Mr. Anderson now appears to be singing directly to him. No one else seems to notice or care.

Mike and Brittany have joined in by dancing exuberantly at the front of the room with Mr. Anderson doing a step-touch move that looks straight out of a Warblers video. Artie and Sam are singing backup vocals and occasionally adding a little beatbox. They really hit their stride during the chorus.

You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream…

Kurt shifts in his seat, looking around at his friends to see if anyone is seeing what he sees. Do they know Mr. Anderson is singing to him?

Finn looks confused; Rachel is definitely not amused. Mercedes, Puck, and Quinn are caught up in the performance and swaying along to the music. Santana appears to be watching Brittany dance. No one seems to have picked up on the fact that Kurt is being serenaded. He puts a hand over his mouth to hide his giddy smile as Mr. Anderson launches into the chorus for the second time.

My heart stops when you look at me.

Kurt is pretty sure he loses his mind a little more every time Mr. Anderson winks or smiles and he feels a flutter in his chest that keeps growing in intensity. Thankfully everyone else is either dancing around the room or singing along. Even Rachel has seemed to soften a bit as she gets caught up in Mr. Anderson's enthusiasm and begins to sing back up.

When the song comes to an end, his eyes are locked on Kurt, a smirk playing across his face as he sings the last line.

Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans, be your teenage dream tonight.

Kurt watches Mr. Anderson's heaving chest and parted mouth for a moment before he realizes the song has ended. He frantically applauds along with everyone else as the ones who had joined in the performance take their seats.

"That was really cool, Mr. A," Mercedes says, nodding and smiling. "I think we can work this list."

Mr. Anderson smiles back at her, and Kurt wonders how he's going to get through the rest of the school year with his sanity in tact if he's busy thinking about putting his hands on his teacher in his skin-tight jeans.

It's going to be a long year.

Blaine knows he probably shouldn't have looked at Kurt so much while singing "Teenage Dream," but it was yet another example of Kurt's presence being intoxicating. The fact that he can't control his physical reaction to the guy is really becoming problematic. He feels like he's fighting his impulses more and more while his rate of failure continues to climb.

It takes several weeks for it to hit a peak, and it's ironically during an argument with Kurt during Glee rehearsal that he feels the wave crest and crash into him like a tidal wave.

Kurt had been standoffish and quiet for several days, feeding off of Blaine's anxiety, no doubt. But he'd kept his cool, at least during classes and practice. And during their one-on-one sessions, he'd been friendly without being overtly flirtatious. All of that must have been an act, though, because clearly he'd been bottling something up, and the pressure was finally too much to take.

"Okay guys, let's take it from the top," Blaine calls out to the class. "We need to really nail this choreography if we're going to take sectionals next week."

He can hear groans and murmurs of complaint as the group resets, but it's the eye roll from Kurt that sets him off.

"Something wrong with that, Mr. Hummel?" he says.

Kurt looks shocked at the harshness of his words and the formal address. Suddenly he stiffens and raises his chin, looking down his nose at Blaine from across the stage.

"Nothing at all, Mr. Anderson," he replies coldly, Blaine's name cruel on his tongue. "I just love doing this third-rate choreography ten times a day because two people can't get their shit together. That makes perfect sense."

"Now hang on a second, Kurt. This is a team. If one person needs the work, we all need the work."

"Whatever," Kurt says, rolling his eyes again and thrusting his arms down in exasperation. "I'm done."

Blaine watches as Kurt storms off the stage, and even though he's acutely aware of the many pairs of eyes on him from the rest of New Directions, he doesn't think twice about going after Kurt.

"Everybody take five," he says. "I'll be right back."

He takes off through the auditorium at a pretty healthy clip, practically down the aisle. Once he hits the open hallway, he calls out for Kurt, looking left and right before choosing a direction. He finds Kurt leaning forward to rest his head on a row of lockers near the choir room. He's kicking the floor and leaving dark, angry scuffmarks with his right foot.

"Kurt?" he says softly, trying not to startle him.

Kurt doesn't look up. His shoulders sag heavily with a sigh. "The door's locked," he says. "My bag's inside."

"Kurt," Blaine says, grabbing Kurt's arm near the elbow. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he says, refusing to make eye contact. "Just let me get my stuff, and I'll be out of your hair."

Blaine digs in his pocket for the keys and unlocks the door to his office, motioning for Kurt to head inside.

"Mr. Anderson," Kurt pleads, finally looking up. "I just want to go home."

"Just humor me for a minute," Blaine says, smiling. "Come in and have a seat."

Kurt reluctantly walks into the office and stands with his arms crossed. Blaine has no idea what's gotten into him, but stubbornness is radiating off him in waves. Something has him riled up, and he wants Blaine to know that he's the one in control, not the teacher.

"Would you please sit?" Blaine asks, trying to put all his concern in his voice. He takes a seat behind his desk and looks up at Kurt.

Kurt rolls his eyes, but there's less venom than before. He sits in one of the chairs.

"You never blow up like that," Blaine says. "What's wrong?"

Blaine leans back in his seat and folds his hands in his lap. Kurt takes a deep breath and bites his lower lip. His eyes begin to gloss over with tears and a hand comes up to brush them away before they can fall. Kurt looks toward the ceiling to fight back any more tears.

"I can't help you if you won't talk to me," Blaine says softly.

"I know," Kurt says. "It's just…"

He looks at Blaine and freezes. His stunning blue-green eyes are welling up with tears, and there's something else burning through the sadness. Longing, perhaps? As the meaning of Kurt's emotional outburst dawns on him, Blaine lifts his eyebrows in acknowledgement. Kurt gives a small nod. The attraction they've both been ignoring for weeks bubbles over and floods the room.

Oh.

"Kurt, I…"

"No, I know," he says. "I know."

Kurt looks down and picks at his fingernails. The silence is almost unbearable as it drags out, moments ticking away. Worse still, it gives Blaine time to think. Time in which Blaine's mind fills with every thought he's been trying to quash since early September.

A strand of Kurt's hair falls out of place. God, he's so beautiful. I wonder what it would feel like to run my hands through his hair. Kurt bites his lip again. Is he a good kisser? Kurt wraps his arms around himself in a protective gesture. Does he like to snuggle while watching old movies? I wonder if he's seen Casablanca. Kurt pulls at the neck of his lopsided sweatshirt. He'd look good in my green cardigan. Kurt looks at him with wide eyes. Why does he have to be so young? Why is life so cruel? I will never find a man as perfect as Kurt.

Blaine clears his throat, breaking the silence harshly. If he keeps dwelling on his pain and desire for Kurt, this will end badly. "Kurt, I should really get back to practice," he says. He tries to swallow down the lump forming in his throat. "Will you join us?"

Kurt's eyes shine brightly again as he shakes his head. "I think I need some time," he says.

"I understand," Blaine replies. "I'll see you tomorrow for our lesson?"

Kurt nods, and Blaine leaves the stifling warmth of his office. He can't be sure if it's his imagination or not, but he thinks he hears muffled sobs coming from behind him. He forces himself to keep walking and bites the inside of his cheek to keep his emotions from spilling over. He's got a job to do. Blaine Anderson is an adult and a professional. Kurt will be fine.

Except the thought of Kurt being hurt shatters his heart. He's barely coherent for the rest of rehearsal.