"Euh, M. Schuester, j'pensais que mon p�re voulait que Finn et moi soyons ensemble?" Uh, Mr. Schuester, I thought my dad wanted Finn and I to be together?, asked Kurt, trying desperately to keep his voice steady and sound at least slightly aloof.

Judging from Mr. Schuester's concerned face he hadn't succeeded on either count.

"Kurt, si �a te pose vraiment un probl�me je serais content de te remettre avec ton fr�re mais le but de cet �change est non seulement d'apprendre l'anglais mais aussi de ce faire des nouveaux amis. Et puis je pensais que tu serais content de ne pas avoir � t'occuper de Finn pendant quatre mois; je sais que vous deux avez d�j� la relation typique de grand fr�re/petit fr�re..." Kurt, if it really poses a problem to you I'd be more than happy to room you with your brother again but the point of this exchange is not only to learn English but to make new friends! And also, I thought you'd be happy about not having to worry about Finn for four months; I know you two already have the typical big brother/little brother relationship going on...

Kurt stood with his bags still in wand worrying his lip. He had wanted to get rid of Finn. And really there was no reason for him to be so flustered at the idea of rooming with Blaine, after all there'd be another boy in the room who Kurt was sure wouldn't want to deal with his two roommates getting up to anything... uncouth. And besides, having to room with Blaine might be a blessing in disguise; after all, any lingering traces of his crush on Finn had definitely vanished after having to share a room with the guy. Dirty clothes all over the floor and forgotten bags of chips on the bed were quite possibly the biggest turn off Kurt could ever come up with. Maybe he shouldn't be thinking of his rooming arrangement as the fate taunting him by dangling the forbidden fruit in his face, maybe he should see it as the fates dangling said fruit so close to his face that he could see every single little bump and bruise and blemish and remaining pesticide layer.

Okay that metaphor got a little out of hand. Kurt suddenly realized that Mr. Schuester was staring at him expectantly. Oh right, he was still in mid-conversation. Kurt was quick to reply that no, he didn't have any problem with it and that it was considerate of Schuester to think about how Kurt would feel not being able to get away from his entirely-too-protective brother for the next four months.

He's not a great teacher, Kurt thought as he climbed the stairs, luggage trailing behind him, but he does have his moments.

After climbing the four flights of stairs- I might not need to add time to my morning workouts if I have to climb these things day in day out- Kurt was standing slightly breathless in front of the ajar mahogany door. All he had to do was put on a smile, interact as little as possible and get settled in quickly so he could escape the temptation incarnate that was Blaine Anderson. Simple.

With one last deep breath and a set of his shoulders, Kurt pushed the door and took a step inside.

Only to die at that very moment.

Because surely he had to be dead to open a door and be greeted by a half-naked Blaine Anderson.

Blaine had been half-listening to the french argue about who knows what for a while now, and all he knew was that the french girls had confirmed something he had always thought: girls were crazy scary. Thank God he was gay because he couldn't imagine being in his friend's shoes right now; terrified but still more than willing to do anything that might get them in their pants.

Blaine sighed and zoned back out of the rules Mr. Schuester was probably going over in french, knowing that he'd soon be lecturing them in his attempt at Italian. But hey, soon enough Blaine would be the one butchering a language so who was he to judge. He just wished that Schuester would get on with it because he was still freezing his ass off.

Damn American weather...

Blaine couldn't bring himself to truly complain though because the warmth from Kurt's fancy gloves was seeping from his hands, deep into his skin and to his heart. Blaine didn't know if his face was red from the weather or from replaying the scene of Kurt handing over his gloves to him over and over in his head. He didn't understand Kurt when he spoke but the image of the french boy holding his gloves out to him with that gorgeous smile on his face couldn't have been a better invitation if he'd started speaking fluent Italian to him. The softness of the fur lining the black leather gloves was almost as soft as the small brush against Kurt's hand had been.

If Blaine didn't know he had to give them back he would never take these gloves off again.

All of a sudden, Kurt's soft voice broke through Blaine's reverie. Blaine felt like one of those sailors in the Greek mythology they had to read for Professor Colleoni's class, entranced by the very sound of the beautiful mermaid's voice, regardless of whether or not he could understand what they said. One word he did understand: Dalton.

He turned to Wes and asked him why Kurt would be talking about him- them. Dalton.

Wes shot him a look like he saw right through his ploy and saw him for the desperate puppy he was. And knowing how well Wes knew him that was likely to be the case. When Wes shot David one of their trademark "Oh, Blaine" looks, Blaine knew for certain that his best friends were onto him.

Wes was going to answer him but when he saw the way Blaine was looking at Kurt- who had begun screaming at the tall fella- he knew he'd lost him. Wes turned back to David with a slightly impressed look on his face; Blaine had really gone and fallen for this guy. They then proceeded to have one of their silent conversations.

Wes shot a quick glance at Blaine and raised an eyebrow to David.

He's really got it bad this time, huh?

David raised his eyebrows and threw his head back, pursing his lips in a look of approval.

Definitely got it bad.

Wes' eyebrows took on a slightly more worried slant.

Should we be worried?

David looked at his other best friend and then at the boy who seemed to have entranced him with a single sway of those fashionably covered hips. He didn't miss the quick looks Kurt kept shooting almost unconsciously at Blaine's direction. David smiled and looked back to Wes, scrunched his nose and shook his head with a smile on his face.

Nah, I think he'll be good.

Wes and David shared one last smile and then turned back to Schuester who had begun explaining their lodgings to them. All the boys listened attentively to the French teacher trying not to miss any part of the message which might help them decipher his garbled Italian speech.

"Allora, um, io sono nell primo piano dov� c'� anche una biblioteca, dov� vi potete fare il vostro lavoro e studiare. Le donne sono nell secondo piano. Vietato andare nell secondo piano, ragazzi. Um, allora, vi dormirete tutti con un ragazzo francese e con un amico italiano nell terzo e quarto piano. Ho gia deciso chi � con chi. Um, due minuti, devo cambiare una cosa... Ok, allora, Wes, lui, uh tu e David siete nell terzo piano a sinistra con Sam, Jeff e Nick, lei sono a destra con Finn." So, um, I'm in the first floor where there is also a library, where you can do your homework and study. Women are in the second floor. Forbidden to go in the second floor, boys. Um, so, you all sleep with with a French guy and an Italian friend in the third and fourth floors. I have already decided who is with whom. Um, two minutes, I have to change a thing ... Ok, then, Wes, he, uh you and David are in the third floor to the left with Sam, Jeff and Nick, they are right with Finn.

By this point Blaine was trying not to hyperventilate. That could only mean...

"...Blaine e Thad, vi siete nell quarto piano con Kurt." Blaine and Thad, you are in the fourth floor with Kurt.

A giant dopey smile appeared on Blaine's face.

Thank you Madonna. I owe you one.

Mr. Schuester wrapped up his little speech pretty quickly then and he signalled the Dalton boys to go in and get settled. Blaine grabbed his luggage and made his way to the front door not being able to resist walking a little closer to Kurt than was truly necessary and brushing past him. Kurt turned to look at him and Blaine knew the stupid smile on his face must still be there, because Kurt was smiling shyly back.

This was going to be a good four months.

On his way to the fourth floor, every single one of his so-called friends went out of their way to tease him about Kurt, but Blaine was too far in the clouds to pay them any attention past shooting them a still-gloved middle finger. By the time he reached the landing on the top floor we has slightly sweating in thick wool coat, beanie and gloves.

Not that he blamed the gloves for his discomfort of course.

He reached the room to find Thad had already been inside. It was a nice room, very big. More of a suite really. As soon as you entered you could see the huge glass window and the cushion covered seat in front of it. If Blaine didn't know that window pane would be freezing he might have settled down there for the rest of the four months, book in hand, legs stretched out in front of him on the nice long alcove-type seat. Along the left wall were two dressers and a door that Blaine assumed led to a bathroom while along the right were three single beds, separated by classic wooden night stands. Thad had already claimed the bed closest to the door, judging by the luggage on top of the bed, which left Blaine with little to no choice but to pick the middle bed. After all, he couldn't very well stick Kurt between two guys he doesn't know.

Of course that left him sleeping a mere two feet away from the prettiest boy Blaine had ever laid eyes on.

I think Thad might have planned this.

Blaine heard the sound of running water and out of the left hand door came out Thad, shaking his hands clean of water.

"Blaine! Bastardo fortunato, in camera con il tuo nuovo ragazzo! E non ti preoccupare, vado subito fuori dai piedi! Ecco, adesso vado a trovare Wes e David! Ciao, Romeo!" Blaine! You lucky bastard, sharing a room with your new boy! And don't worry, I won't be in your way! In fact, I'll go visit Wes and David right now! Bye Romeo!

Thad clapped him on the back and was out of the room before Blaine could blink.

Well, then. Might as well change out of his sweaty airport uniform before Kurt got here. Blaine started by taking off his coat and haging it in the dresser that already held Thad's; Kurt could have the other dresser. He stuffed his beanie in the pocket and hung his blazer next. With gloved hands he unknotted his Dalton tie from around his neck and he hung it on the same hanger that held his blazer.

Thank god I won't have to wear my uniform for the next four months. If I end this trip without knowing a word of English I'll at least have had that.

Blaine knew he should have taken off Kurt's gloves by now too, but he was trying to post-pone the moment for as long as possible. He untucked his wrinkled white shirt and began un-doing the buttons, concentrating on getting each small piece of plastic from the hole that housed it with clumsy leather bound fingers. He relished each small brush of leather against his over-heated chest. Good thing he hadn't bothered with an undershirt for the trip. Blaine was moments away from getting lost in a fantasy involving Kurt's leather covered fingers brushing along his skin when a loud thumping noise came from the door way. Blaine turned fully towards Kurt, who was staring red-faced at Blaine, his trunk on the ground beside him.

Well, staring at Blaine's chest.

Blaine flushed brighter than Kurt and he briefly contemplated re-doing his shirt only to conclude that it would simply make his embarrassment that much worse. He raised a hand in a half wave only to realize that he was waving proof in Kurt's face that he was a total creeper who still had Kurt's gloves on.

He took them off in record time and handed them to Kurt, who still looked shell-shocked in the doorway.

"Oh Dio. Devi pensare che sono pazzo. Ehm, ecco, tuoi guanti. Grazie ancora, erano molto confortevoli e caldi, molto di moda anche, ma poi sembri un tipo molto alla moda e mi piacciono i ragazzi alla moda. Oh Dio, che cosa ho detto. Voglio solamente dire che apprezzo molto la gente alla moda, non � facile stare alla moda, e tu lo fai senza sforzo, oh Dio, adesso smetto di parlare." Oh God, You must think I'm crazy. Um, here, your gloves. Thanks again, were very comfortable and warm, very fashionable also, but then you look like a very hip and trendy guy and I like trendy guys. Oh God, what did I say. I just want to say that I appreciate very fashionable people, is not easy to be fashionable, and you are, effortlessly, oh God, I'll stop talking now.

And just when Blaine thought he could never want to melt into a puddle and vanish through the floorboards more than he did then, Kurt began to laugh. Loudly, and for so long that tears were coming out of his adorably scrunchy eyes. Blaine is considering taking the next flight out to Italy.

Or Timbuktu.

Kurt gradually stopped laughing like a madman and he wiped at his eyes, still fighting back giggles. He then looked straight at Blaine with a huge toothy smile on his face and he took his gloves from Blaine's hand.

"J'ai absolument rien compris de ce que t'as dit mais j'ai jamais vu de quoi de plus mignon. J'ai un fort pr�sentiment que ces quatres prochains mois vont �tre tr�s difficles, Blaine." I didn't understand a word you just said but I have never seen anything more adorable. I have a strong feeling that these next four months are going to be very difficult, Blaine.

Kurt then smiled and put his trunk at the foot of his bed, opened it and took out a fresh outfit and a towel. From his messenger back he took a toiletries bag.

"Est-ce que tu voulait prendre une douche ou puis-je y aller?" Did you want to take a shower or may I?

Blaine hadn't moved from his spot in the middle of the room, his shirt still open. He hadn't understood a word Kurt said but he was kind of brain-dead from Kurt's laugh and him talking to him and saying his name. When Kurt's voice registered, standing with clear intentions of taking a shower, Blaine shook his head and pointed towards the bathroom in a clear invitation for him to go right ahead. With a final smile Kurt flounced towards the bathroom for his shower.

Blaine suddenly hoped that when he shook his head no he hadn't accidentally turned down an invitation to join him in the shower.

Fuck English, Blaine needed to learn French.