Blaine Anderson breathed in sharply as walked across the diving board. He glanced around the enclosed natatorium, surrounding himself in the blue tile walls and floor. He locked eyes with a beautiful boy that was seated quietly on the benches, a sketchpad in hand. He seemed completely focused in his work, doodling onto the blank white notepad, and Blaine wondered who he could be. Must be new, because he definitely would remember that stunning face. Oh well, probably another swimmer. Blaine inhaled once more and jumped off the floppy, white surface.

The water hit Blaine's face like a cold smack against the cheek. Which was completely abnormal because the pools were always slightly heated, the cold temperature caused the muscles to tense in their bodies. The water rushed up his nostrils, of course he forgot to plug them, and accidentally inhaled the chlorine-filled water. Blaine knew he was about to start choking, so he pushed off the bottom tile of the pool, and sprang upwards. He made a straight route for the deckside, coughing as he used his arms to launch his chest over the side of the large, olympic pool.

Coughing extremely loudly, Blaine began to feel incredibly nauseous as he hacked the toxic water out of his lungs. Come on Blaine, you're an olympic swimmer. You're an expert, stop acting like a beginner.

"Oh my god, are you alright!?" He could hear the pounding of shoes across the tile floor, and he could tell they were rushing right toward him.

Without an answer, Blaine kept choking out his brains. He gave a quick nod, still leaning over the pool while his bottom half of his body rested in the water.

The gentleman that had ran over was now propped next to Blaine, patting him on the back soothingly. Real smart, Blaine Anderson. He thought to himself, slowly coming down from his embarassing coughing fit.

"The uh, the patting thing doesn't really work when your skin is w-wet." Blaine shivered as he powered his entire body up onto the floor, raking his hair back over his head, noticing his cap must've peeled off.

"Oh, gosh! I'm so sorry. I just, I panicked a-and I didn't want you to drown o-or choke to death, and I can't really perform the Hiemlich manuever from this position, so I just did the first thing that came to m-mind." The beautiful boy stuttered, and he looked down with worried his crystal blue and emerald eyes piercing with worry.

"H-hey, thanks. It's alright. Thank you, by the way. I'm Blaine." Blaine smiled, reaching his pruny hand out from underneath him to shake the lean, perfectly manicured hand.

"Kurt. Kurt Hummel. I'm guessing your one of the swimmers?" Kurt asked, biting his lip in the most adorable way, and swaying back in forth. Blaine analyzed his outfit, his lips coming to part in astonishment as he took in the figure in front of him. He looked perfectly kept, his hair was swept back in a fitted fashion and his clothes were skin-tight and swaying style.

"Yeah, believe it or not. I was kind of caught off guard. When such a beautiful boy looks at me from across the stadium, I tend to forget how to breathe." Blaine's face completely washed over with a pale tone as he realized what he just said out-loud. Oh my god you're a fucking idiot. He's probably not even gay, and hey he almost just saved your life. Now is NOT the time to be flirting, Anderson.

"Well, next time I'll be sure to look somewhere else. I'm actually here to evaluate the swimming bottoms you guys are made to wear. I'm designing the speedos this year, lovely project to give a gay male by the way, and I figured I'd come to see why the need editing. I can see why." Kurt smiled, reaching down a hand to help lift Blaine off the floor.

"Ah. Well, I hope they're better than these ones. They're scratchy and tight, not really comfortable to be swimming 1500 meters in.." Blaine sighed, grabbing his towel and shaking his curly hair with it, attempting to dry himself off.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind. I have to go now, but I'll see you at the London Aquatics Centre for practice, right?" Kurt asked, seeming to shuffle on his feet as he gathered his leather satchel that was resting on the bench behind him. Blaine noticed that he shoved his notepad quickly into the leather bag before even acknowledging it was still open.

"Yeah, I'll see you then. Bye Kurt." Blaine smiled, and waved with his right hand as he wrapped the white, London towel around his toned waist.

"Goodbye, Anderson." Kurt smiled, and began walking toward the large, black doors that held two guards next to them.

"How do you know my last name?" Blaine asked, suddenly confused as he began to walk toward the locker room, his wet feet pit-patting across the tile floor.

"It's printed on your ass." Kurt winked, and opened the doors, disappearing out into the hallway with a swish in his step.

Blaine quickly made his way into the showers, resting his head under the warm, clean water pouring out onto his naked skin.

"Oh, god." Blaine sighed as he leaned his tan, curly head against the yellow ceramic walls in the shower.