October 28th

Kurt stood with one shoulder braced against his locker—leaned might be an accurate term, except it implies a relaxed pose, and Kurt was so tense, he was almost vibrating. So, Kurt stood with his shoulder against his locker, unconsciously picking at his cuticles, staring holes into the side of Finn Hudson's head. Finn was chatting with a few of his fellow football players, occasionally laughing and smiling his amazing smile.

Kurt started chewing on the edge of his thumbnail.

Finn was a nice guy. Like, great, really incredible. He was sweet, and open—okay, he was slightly less dumb than a post, but still, he made up for it. He'd been a little awkward in the beginning about the whole dating-a-male-cheerleader, but Kurt had patiently explained to him that he was the quarterback, and Kurt was the head cheerleader, and they were practically duty-bound to date; and besides, kissing and grinding pretty much felt the same no matter what sex the other party was. Finn had gotten over it pretty quick after that, and after seeing that none of his other friends—well, not friends, entourage—after seeing that none of his entourage of footballers were at all bothered that he was dating another guy.

It wasn't like dating a guy was some taboo thing, in this day and age. Being gay had been severely looked down on in the recent past, but slowly people were starting to realize that, with the advances in new medicine for HIV, being gay was perfectly acceptable again. Kurt couldn't imagine what it would be like if men couldn't bear children—the field-days the right wing conservatives and Christian groups would have with that, and the whole 'marriage is holy, if you can't reproduce then it's a sin' etc, etc.

Kurt could definitely reproduce.

That was sort of the problem.

A sudden stab of pain had Kurt looking down dumbly at his thumb. The nail bed was slowly filling up with blood. He'd stripped the nail down to the quick.

God, he felt awful. Emotionally...and a little physically, as well. How could this have happened?

September 12th

Kurt gave Blaine an incredulous look—which is quite a feat for someone completely naked. "You've got lube in your bag, but no condoms? Really?"

Blaine rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I'm clean," he said impatiently. "I'm a Skank, that doesn't mean I'm a slut."

Tell that to Quinn, Kurt thought snarkily, but wisely kept his mouth shut.

Oh, wait. Not quite far enough back.

~4 Hours Earlier~

It was hot out, but not sweltering; the perfect kind of night to stay out all night with your friends and no parental supervision.

Kurt, in particular, felt the need to release some tension. School had started a month ago, and Coach Sylvester had been pushing them particularly hard, since they'd lost several good cheerleaders at the end of last year, and, Kurt suspected, she also recognized that this was the last year she'd have him and several of his friends, who were the best on the squad (if he did say so himself—which he did). She had to whip a new batch of Cheerios into (her idea of) shape, and weed out who had leadership potential to take his place. It was stressful, and she was taking it out on her squad.

On top of that (and of course the usual school work, which was rather laughable, but still took a small amount of time to actually complete, more so now that he was a Senior; and keeping abreast of all the rumors and gossip floating through school that helped keep him on top of the social structure), his very new relationship with Finn was... taking more effort than he'd expected. Finn didn't seem sure whether he should treat him like a girlfriend (emphasis on girl), or like 'just another guy', neither of which Kurt was. It was surprisingly annoying. Thank God Finn was cute. And sweet, on occasion. He was still in that awkward 'I'm-kissing-a-guy' stage, though, which just...wasn't working for Kurt. He figured he could deal with it, but really, he was a teenage boy, and just like every other teenage boy in existence ever, he wanted some action. Maybe not 'all-the-way' action, but he'd like it if his boyfriend didn't seem like he was doing him an enormous favor just making out with him.

And, there was also 'The Anderson Problem.'

Blaine Anderson continued to pop up in his life, despite the fact they ran in different social circles. Blaine, apparently, despite being a complete juvenile delinquent, was also really smart, and was taking a lot of the same AP classes Kurt was. It was annoying. Santana and Brittany were friends with Quinn Fabray, one of Blaine's "Skanks", his little delinquent 'gang'; Quinn, in fact, seemed to be one of Blaine's better, if not best, friends, and while Kurt knew that his two friends associated with Quinn, it seemed to be getting shoved in his face a lot more often, recently. Again: annoying.

What might be the worst offense, in Kurt's mind, was the fact that Blaine...was sinfully attractive. He made leather and the James Dean look not only completely acceptable, but unfathomably hot. Kurt just wanted to sink his hands into Blaine's disheveled curls...which led to thoughts of sinking other things on other parts of Blaine, and really, Kurt clearly needed to relieve some sexual tension, if he was having fantasies about Blaine Anderson.

The more insidious problem, though, was how nice Blaine was. Not when anyone else ever saw him, but the few times over the summer when they came across each other (why weren't there more secluded places for a teen to go to be alone with his thoughts in this town, anyway?), he was...soft. He was soft-spoken, thoughtful, and altogether too alluring. If he weren't such an obnoxious jack-ass the rest of the time, mouthy and cocky, he would be kind of unbelievably incredible. Kurt found himself reminding himself just what a jerk Blaine was 95% of the time, during the 5% that he was with Blaine alone.

But it was when they were alone that Kurt had the hardest time remembering he couldn't stand Blaine, and it was then that he needed to remember the most.

Maybe it was just meant to be. (Except Kurt didn't believe in fate, so that couldn't be it.)

Most everyone seemed to be outside, where there was at least some vague stirring in the air that resembled a breeze to keep them cool; Kurt didn't want to deal with anyone at the moment, wanting to unwind a little in private, so he made his way into the barn. It smelled sweetly of hay, and not at all like animals, which was a pleasant surprise. It was a little warmer than out in the open air, but not stuffy. A perfect little secluded spot for him to relax and decompress for a while. No friends to attend or conversations to follow, no homework, no awkward boyfriend. Perfect.

"Hiding from your loyal flunkies?"

Kurt groaned in disbelief, before turning to find Blaine leaning against a support post, half-obscured in shadow, watching him. "Why are you here?" Kurt asked.

"Hey," Blaine said with a shrug, "I go where the party's at."

Kurt gestured dramatically toward the half-closed barn door. "So? Go party!"

Blaine narrowed his eyes, and the look made Kurt want to fidget; it was far too penetrating, as if Blaine could read his every thought. But his words remained deceptively casual. "Why aren't you out there partying?" He stood up away from the post, moving closer to Kurt, who stubbornly stood his ground, despite having the definite urge to back away and put some distance between himself and Blaine.

"I don't really feel like drunken debauchery at the moment." It came out a lot less forcefully than Kurt would have liked, but Blaine was now definitely in his personal space. And...it could just be his imagination (and libido), but it really looked like Blaine was staring at his lips.

And then Blaine raised his arms, placing his hands on either side of Kurt's head on the wall (and when had he backed himself up against the wall?) and asked quietly, "What about sober debauchery?"

Kurt swallowed heavily, hardly daring to blink, unable to stop watching Blaine; staring into gold eyes that seemed far too intense.

Blaine moved one hand to cup Kurt's neck and jaw, and murmured, "I'm going to kiss you now."

"Ok—" Blaine didn't give him a chance to argue or agree — but what was worse, Kurt hadn't been planning on arguing.

It wasn't what Kurt expected kissing Blaine would be like. It wasn't rough or dirty or hurried. It was slow, and surprisingly sweet, with a press and slide of lips, before Blaine ran his tongue along Kurt's top lip. It wasn't a demand to deepen the kiss, and as Kurt opened his mouth, he had the ludicrous thought that, despite not giving him a choice in being kissed, Blaine was allowing Kurt to control the pace.

It took longer than Kurt was proud of to pull away, even a little bit, to ask breathlessly, "Why are you doing this?"

There was a brief pause, and Kurt could practically see Blaine going through his options of answers, before he settled on saying softly, "Because I want to."

Kurt wanted to get defensive, as a knee-jerk reaction...but something in Blaine's voice made him pause. Still... "So, you just thought, 'hey, I think I'll make out with the head cheerleader tonight'?"

Blaine made a face, an aborted sneer. "I don't care who you are at school. You're just Kurt Hummel to me. And..." he hesitated, debated saying more, before finally murmuring, almost shyly, "I've wanted to kiss you...for a while. I decided to take the opportunity tonight."

If Kurt didn't know any better (and maybe he didn't, the entire encounter was so surreal), he'd think Blaine was trying to say he had a crush on him. "I've thought about...it, too. Kissing you," Kurt whispered in a rush.

Blaine gave a pleased lopsided smirk, and leaned in to kiss him again, but Kurt turned his head, so Blaine ended up kissing his cheek. "I have a boyfriend," Kurt blurted.

A look, something like anger, flashed across Blaine's face, before quickly being replaced by ill-hidden annoyance. "So I'd heard. Mr. Star Quarterback himself. Noticed he's not here tonight."

Kurt pursed his lips together. He wasn't exactly happy Finn wasn't there, either, but his mom didn't like the idea of these parties, and Kurt could definitely understand doing something you might not like to please your parent. "No, he's not. That doesn't mean we're not still dating."

Blaine sighed, sounding regretful. And then Kurt felt Blaine's hand, from just behind his knee, sliding up in a caress until it stopped on the curve of Kurt's ass.

"One night," Blaine breathed against his skin. "Give me at least one night with you." When Kurt hesitated, Blaine caught his eye and whispered, "Please."

Well, fuck. Here was Blaine Anderson, practically handing Kurt one of his (recurring) fantasies on a golden platter. And it wasn't as if Kurt was likely to be getting anything besides fairly tame make-out sessions from Finn any time soon, anyway.

"Okay," Kurt finally whispered, watching Blaine break into a breathtaking smile. "Okay."