Time passed when nothing happened. The tension between Blaine and I was still there, bigger than ever but even so seemed to slowly fade away. I had tried talking to Mr. Jenkins about changing lab partner, trying to make him see the reasoning that I couldn't work with someone like Blaine. He said he understood, but that there was no way of changing now because everyone already had partners.�It's not the end of the world, you might even learn something form each other, he'd said, and that had been the end of the discussion.

We met in the school library one afternoon to work on an assignment. We sat in the private section, on the dirty blue couch in the corner, behind the bookshelves about African American culture that no one came looking for anyway. We were both on the couch, propped up beside each other. We were sitting awfully close to each other, thighs touching all the way down to the knees. Blaine didn't seem to mind, and to be honest, neither did I. We were mimicking positions with our feet on the table in front of us, books in our laps, while casually leaning back against the couch. I was staring at the periodical system like it held a mystery I could discover by staring long enough.

Having Blaine as a chemistry partner wasn't the worst thing, I had soon discovered. He clearly knew what he was doing, he had brains. So did I, and, ironically enough, we worked great together. But I knew the calm couldn't last, the storm was coming. If I rushed it on, maybe it would be over sooner. Like, how the calm before the storm only is temporary, but the destruction after it was still possible to rebuild to former glory.

"Why are you still in the closet?" I blurted out, knowing I'd end up regretting my words if I thought about them too long. My eyes never left the heavy book, but I could still feel Blaine's eyes boring into my side. "I mean," I hurriedly added, "I'm not picking on you or anything. I'm just wondering how your mind goes. You seem like a reasonable person. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Blaine stopped me before I started an all-out ramble. "It's fine," he said calmly, going back to his book. He made no further attempts to continue.

I honestly wanted to know. Most people were afraid of what their friends and family would think. Or they were disgusted by themselves, or just not used to the idea of it. But there was something different about Blaine, I could tell.

"I know it's a hard thing to come to turns with, I've been there," I kept going, squeezing my eyes shut for a second and cursing myself for not shutting up. "Some people aren't comfortable with themselves, they want to change or adapt to-"

"It's not like that," Blaine said finally. I looked up at him. He sighed frustratedly. "I know this is who I am, and I'm perfectly fine with it. I don't want to change. I have accepted myself a long time ago, Kurt. It's nothing like that."

"I don't understand," I answered honestly, worrying my lower lip between my teeth for a moment, before realizing it had caught Blaine's attention. He looked at the motion for a beat, before turning back to his book.

"Maybe I'll tell you someday," he said simply. "But not today."

I decided to stop pushing, and nodded. But I would definitely hang around for that day.

. . . .

The library corner became our routine quickly. Weeks passed where I almost lost myself in school and my friends, only to be reminded - by Santana or by mine and Blaine's study sessions - that I had to keep my mind on track.

We were in the library like we usually were these days when we met. It was early November and it was already darkening considering how late it was in the afternoon. The library was quite empty considering how many test were in the near future, but we'd had a long day and I for one was completely exhausted.

As usual, Blaine hadn't said a word past a grunted greeting when we met up. He'd already been buried in his math book when I showed up after Glee practice, and didn't acknowledge me much. Again and again I kept cursing myself for not doing more to get his attention, making him feel safe with me instead of allured. But today I decided the calm was coming to an end.

"This stupid shit!" I swore under my breath, slamming my math book on the table and leaning back on the sofa with my arms crossed over my chest. Obviously, this caught Blaine's attention, who was startled by the abruptness of it after almost half an hour of silence.

Blaine raised an eyebrow and fought back a smile. "You need help?"

He was watching me, his head only slightly bent towards me. It wasn't until then that I noticed that his usual eyebrow ring was replaced by a curved barbell in gray. I saw his eyebrows crunch as he frowned when I didn't reply.

"Um," I said, clearing my throat. I had to admit, that thing was actually pretty hot. And awfully distracting, all I could think of was leaning in and running my tongue over it. "If you don't mind."

"It's not so hard once you get into it," Blaine encouraged.

I raised an eyebrow. "What if I like hard?" I teased, sliding a hand up his thigh.

Blaine released a shaky breath and lifted my hand away with one of his own. Other than that, he ignored my comment. "See, if you want to find the f prime of x, you have to derive it. But when you're trying find the biss it's like a second derivation. So just derive the factors a second time." He ended his explanation with a shrug, like what he spoke of was the simplest thing.

He looked up from the book, and realized that I'd been staring at him the entire time. "Did you listen at all?" he asked, again trying to fight a smile. This time however, he did not succeed in the least. He looked absolutely adorable when trying not to laugh at me. It was so different from his usual evil grins or condescending smirks.

An embarrassed laugh escaped my lips when I realized that I hadn't. "Sorry!" I laughed, hiding my face in the palm of my hand. "I just space out when it comes to this. For all I know, it could be in Italian or something."

Something wicked flickered in Blaine's eyes. "Che si desidera," he said, and smirked at my widening eyes. "Never mind," he smiled. Call me crazy - maybe it was because I was tired and because the lightning wasn't so good where we sat - but it almost looked like Blaine was blushing. "Do you wanna try it a second time?" he asked, and licked his lips.

His lips, his very red lips, were what I was looking at when I replied. "I'd love to."

"Okay, sure. So to find the bi-�hmpf."

Blaine came to a sudden stop when I captured his lips with mine. At first it felt like he was going to pull back, his features went stiff and he wasn't kissing me back. At first. When I started sucking on his bottom lip it was like his thoughts of what was right and what he should do went out the window and his mouth opened up under mine.

I took my time this time, exploring Blaine's mouth with my tongue, every dip and every rise, in deep and lazy movements. Blaine moaned involuntarily in the back of his throat when he traced my tongue with his, and the sound was highly arousing. I felt a familiar heat spread to the base of my stomach, and it made my cock ache for more.

When we finally broke, Blaine's lips looked - if possible - even more delicious that they had before. They had shifted from deep pink to blushing red and the kissing had sized them up a great deal.

What I tried not to think about was what was going on inside me, other than the physical turmoil. Seeing Blaine in front of me, eyes blown wide and mouth agape in surprise. He quickly recovered, eyes frantically searching the library to see if anyone had noticed. It only took a few seconds for him to come at ease, but when he turned back to me, his jaw was clenched and his eyebrows were shot together.

"Stop doing that!" he hissed.

"Doing what?" I asked innocently.

"You know what I'm talking about! You can't just…�kiss�me like that."

I smirked internally at Blaine for being so flustered, and because what I was doing was actually affecting him. "Sorry…" I dragged, not at all meaning it.

But it wasn't enough for Blaine.

"Kurt, I mean it," he said firmly. Kurt could see the wall he was putting up around himself as he wrapped an arm around himself. His eyes grew cold and distant. "I don't know what your angle is, but I'm here because we got teamed up for chemistry class. Nothing else."

Blaine turned back to his book, and I kept my eyes on him. There were certain obstacles I had to overcome in order for everything to work, and I realized I would need a different approach. As the kiss, seemingly doing its purpose, had turned out awfully wrong, I knew he had to do�something�to not make this whole encounter end up as a waste of trial and error. Therefore, I ended up following my next hunch.

"My�angle?" I gasped breathlessly. Surprised at the tone, Blaine turned his head back in confusion. But I, as a part of the act, started scrambling my books together and stuffing them into my bag, feeling my eyes sting and not meeting Blaine's gaze. "Sorry for liking you!" Stuffing another book. Oh, there I ripped the pages! Great… "Sorry for thinking that just maybe you could like me too!" I wasn't even aware of how loudly I was speaking.

At my final words, I met Blaine's eyes forcefully. "Sorry for being so utterly�stupid�to think that someone like you could ever be interested in someone like�me. Or that the only reason to find you attractive and interesting would be if I had some sort of�angle."

Wiggling out of my seat and rounding the table, I clutched my bag tightly and stared back at Blaine, who was practically gaping at this sudden outburst. Even though this was just another act, there was something inside me that stirred of how close to home the words actually hit, and how naturally they came to me. It was like it was everything I'd ever wanted to say, but never known how to or to whom. Maybe to the endless line of guys - both gay and straight - who never could see me or be attracted to me in the way I was to them. Everyone always ended up seeing me - sooner or later - as the gay guy who had too many features resembling a girl to ever be seen as the guy I actually was. And I was sick of it.

Something in the depth of Blaine's golden eyes told me that what I'd said actually had made an impact on him. There were flashes of remorse and sorrow carefully shielded behind the exterior he always put up. But if my words would make him soften, I didn't stay to find out. Instead, I took the opportunity for a dramatic exit and rushing out. What can I say, I'm a fan of drama. It wasn't like Blaine tried to stop me or anything.

As I lay in bed that evening, twisting and turning for what must have been the eighth time, thoughts seemed to be everywhere. I tried to keep most of them out, such as�what am I even doing?�but others seemed more determined to make themselves heard. One thought was particularly attached to the spark of admiration I had seen in Blaine's eyes after we broke the heated kiss in the library.�What if I fall for him?

Shaking my head, I turned in the bed again, flopping onto my stomach in a very uncomfortable - but surprisingly soothing - position. There was no way I'd ever fall for that guy. Sure, he was drop dead gorgeous and had some sort of intriguing mystery attached to him like a personal rain cloud, but there was no way I'd let myself fall in love with a guy who beat up and threatened innocent freshmen. For god's sake, they were just kids! And what for, to get respect?

It must've been past two in the morning when my head was finally dozing off into something resembling unconsciousness. As I went, two parting thoughts wandered through my brain.

I will never allow myself to fall in love with him.

But what if it's already happening?

. . . .

I didn't see Blaine for days. There was that small chance that he'd memorized my schedule by heart and purposefully avoided any hall in McKinley that might bring our paths together. Or maybe he was just ditching again. Wasn't that what every badboy did when things got a little too difficult to handle: ran away?

On the other hand, it bought me more time. Winter was crashing down hard on us - which I happily celebrated by a new knitted sweater by Marc Jacobs - and as seasons changed, so did settings. When another day of not seeing Blaine came and went, I decided to confront in one of my girls with my difficulties. I caught her by the lockers as the school emptied in the afternoon after the last class of the day.

"Give him time, Kurt," was Rachel's advice. "You've laid out the bait, you just have to give him some time to get caught by the hook."

"Thanks, Rach." I was planning on heading home when Rachel's facial expression changed and stopped me in my tracks. "What is it?"

She gnawed her lip and cast a tentative glance around the hallway before taking a step closer to me. "But…" she said, lowering her voice. "If I were you I'd call the whole thing off." I was about to snap at her when she cut me off. "All I'm saying is that there's something much bigger on the line here than wounded pride. Someone might get hurt."

I heaved a sigh. "Yes, Rachel, that's sort of the point…"

She shook her head and slammed her locker shut. Her lips were bent into one of her knowing smiles. "I wasn't talking about him. I was talking about you." She patted my shoulder before leaving me frozen on the spot in the empty hallway.

What was that supposed to mean anyway? I wasn't planning on getting hurt. How could I get hurt? This was a win-win situation on my part.

Or so I thought.