I say "can you believe it?"

As we're lying on the couch,

The moment I can see it,

I can see it now,

"Bilbo, if you don't get your lazy ass out of that bed, I will crack one of your nuts; right or left, that's your choice."

Blaine Anderson chuckled, rolling out of bed, as his best friend and one of his two roommates, Santana, rapped her knuckles on his bedroom door.

"I'm up, Satan," he yelled through the door in reply.

"You better be. I'm not afraid to come in and kick your ass," the Latina girl threatened. Blaine, faced with the same threat a million times, just rolled his eyes.

"Okay, San," Blaine laughed, listening to her retreating footsteps before heading into his en-suite bathroom and getting into the shower.

He stood under the showerhead, the hot spray drumming on his toned, tanned skin, mentally preparing for his first day at his new job; McKinley High School's all new history teacher. It was actually his first serious job, one of his closest friends, Sebastian Smythe, having helped him get it. Sebastian taught English, and had talked to the Principal when he'd heard the post was opening. Now, here was Blaine, preparing for his first day.

He stepped out of the shower, drying his body off with a towel and wrapping it around his hips before walking to the sink. He picked up the tub of gel that was sat there, looking at himself in the mirror and styling his hair the same way he always did, commonly referred to as 'the helmet' by Santana.

He strolled back into his bedroom, taking his planned outfit off of the hanger on the front of his closet and getting dressed, checking himself out in the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the corner of his room. He'd picked out plain charcoal trousers that clung perfectly to the tops of his thighs with an arctic-white long sleeved button up and black suspenders, all underneath a fitted navy pea coat. He finished his outfit off with a maroon bowtie.

"Blaine! I woke you up half an hour ago and you're still not out here; I'm coming in," he heard Santana yell through the door just seconds before it flew open. She stood in the doorway; hand on her hip as she looked him up and down.

"I approve. You look like sex on a stick, as usual," she said, grinning.

"That wasn't the desired effect, but okay," Blaine laughed in reply, pushing past her and walking to the entrance of their little apartment. "I'm going to go. I'll see you later, okay?"

"No, you're not leaving yet. I'm not letting you go anywhere without eating, which is why I had Britt grab us all some donuts," Santana smirked, herding him into the kitchen like a mother hen, while Blaine rolled his eyes...again.

"Good morning, Blaine," Brittany squealed, wrapping the man in a hug as soon as he stepped into the room.

"Hey, Britt," Blaine chuckled, hugging her back quickly before he pulled back. She offered him a donut from the open box on the table.

"Donut?"

"Yeah, thanks," he said, taking it and biting into it, the sweet flavor smacking into his senses like a wall of sugar. "Anyway," he began, "I've really got to go or I'm going to be late. I'll see you two later, okay?"

"Sure thing, Blainers," Santana grinned.

Blaine arrived and headed straight to his new classroom. He'd been in a few times over the summer to fix it up, moving desks and bookshelves, organizing the books and so on, so he knew which room was his. The bell for first period was due to go in five minutes, so he had time to boot up his computer and make the final preparations for his first class.

The bell rang out and Blaine looked up as students began to file in, quickly sliding into their seats. He scanned the classroom, taking in the appearances of each of the students, nodding to himself.

"Okay, guys," he grinned. "I'm Mr. Anderson and I'll be taking you all for history this year. So, all I can do is hope you enjoy yourself, although I know how difficult that is in high school." The whole class laughed, holding pens or pencils between their fingers and turning to each other as they giggled. Blaine smiled and began to mark the students down as present.

"Rachel Berry?"

"Yes, sir," a petite brunette in 'Oh, God, what is she wearing?!'called from the back corner.

"Jeff Campbell?"

"Yes, sir," the response came.

"Hayley Davies?"

"Yes, sir."

And so Blaine continued as quickly as he could.

"Kurt Hummel?" No response. Blaine looked up from where he was leaning over his desk, raising his eyebrows and looking at the students.

"Kurt Hummel?" Still nothing.

"He's not here," Rachel said, sighing. "And if he is then he'll be late. He always is."

Blaine nodded; he knew what she was getting at. He finished marking the students in and turned to the class.

"You each have a textbook on your desk; I'd like you to turn to page thirty-four and read through the passage there, please," Blaine instructed, the students obeying immediately, as he sat down in the chair behind his desk.

Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing a tall boy. His hair was dyed black, the front a dark, dusky pink, and coiffed to perfection. His eyes were lined with black, and he had too many piercings for Blaine to count. He wore a torn and tattered denim jacket, charcoal biker boots and skinny jeans that clung perfectly to his ass and thighs. The whole class seemed to cower; the atmosphere immediately turning icy with the appearance of who the teacher could only guess was Kurt Hummel.

An image flashed through Blaine's mind. He was laying across his couch, lazily, a man lying on top of him. He was threading his fingers through the man's hair, smiling, the only sounds around them that of their steady breathing as they cuddled. After a moment, Blaine realized that the man in the daydream was Kurt. He shook his head to rid it of the image, squeezing his eyes shut and attempting to focus.He's a student!

"Kurt Hummel, I presume?"

The boy turned to his teacher, licking his bottom lip slowly, seductively, and arching an eyebrow, the corners of his lips turning upwards in a devilish smirk.

"You know me already?" he said, blinking in a somewhat innocent manner. "I suppose I do have a...reputation."

"You do indeed, from what I can tell. Sit," Blaine commanded, motioning to the only empty chair in the room.

"Okay," Kurt smiled, sweetly, walking across the room. The teacher cocked his head to the side, his gaze settling on the swaying ass of the student.

Dammit, Anderson, what are you doing? Stop leering! He's a student!Blaine thought, mentally punching himself in the face, failing to realize that Kurt had walked straight past the empty chair and was now stood in the back corner, towering over no-fashion-sense-Rachel.

"Move, Man-Hands," he growled.

"Kurt!" Blaine scolded, standing up, his hands firmly planted on the desk.

Kurt didn't listen. When Rachel didn't get up, he snarled. "I saidmove."

Rachel nodded, collecting her things in her arms and scuttling to the spare seat. Kurt smiled triumphantly, flopping down in the chair, chuckling.

"Kurt Hummel, I will see you after class. I will not tolerate one student threatening another like that," Blaine yelled.

"Whatever," Kurt scoffed, rolling his eyes.

The class took that moment to bore of watching the exchange, turning back to their textbooks. Blaine decided against explaining the task to the late student, figuring it wasn't worth the hassle and he'd confront the boy after class.

The bell rang out and student began to stuff their belongings back into their bags, sliding out of their seats and barreling towards the door before anybody could tell them to stop.

Kurt stayed sat in the corner, earphones in and texting, expression unreadable, leaning back with his ankles cross on the desk. Blaine watched for a moment before standing and walking towards the student. He stopped about a meter away, watching as Kurt began to smile, his clear blue eyes flicking upwards.

"Problem, sir?" Kurt chuckled, pulling his earphones out and looking up at Blaine.

"I want you to tell me why you felt you had to treat Rachel like that when there was a perfectly okay seat at the front," Blaine said, his voice soft, which surprised the student.

"I always sit in the back corner.Rachel Berry," he snarled the name, "knows that damn well. She knew I'm in this class, yet she still chose to sit in my seat."

"And that deserved the attitude you gave her?" Blaine raised his eyebrows, sitting on the edge Kurt's desk as the student moved his feet and sat forward.

"She pissed me off," the boy said simply.

"That's not an excuse. I can't have you acting like this in a classroom."

"But I can act however I want. Freedom and rights and all that shit."

"Watch your language. It's inappropriate."

Kurt grinned mischievously, leaning forward until his face was no more than a few inches away from Blaine's. "So I can't say fuck?"

The teacher's eyes widened. "No, of course not."

"So I can't say how much I know you want to fuck me?"

"Kurt! That's completely inappropriate!" Blaine gasped.

The boy did nothing more than chuckle. "You like it, though. No point in denying it, sir. I'm completely sure you'd love to bend a student over your desk and fuck him until-"

"That's enough!" Blaine snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose and inhaling slowly, eyes shut. He reopened them slowly to find that the student had sat back, smirking.

"Why are you acting like this, Kurt? Honestly?"I need to thank Principal Figgins for giving me a free period after I have this kid's class.

Kurt immediately grew colder, sitting straighter, muscles rigid. "My personal life is none of your business."

"No, but I had a pretty shit adolescence, so I understand."

"You couldn't understand what I've gone through."

Blaine wet his lips and sighed. "I'm not going to force you to tell me, but I can tell that this isn't you-"

Kurt stood up suddenly, his chair shooting backwards and toppling over as the boy screamed at his teacher. "You don't know me!"

"Sit down, Kurt."

"No," the student snarled back.

"Kurt."

The boy shook his head, scowling as he grabbed his bag, storming out of the room. "Fuck you, I'm out of here."

Blaine opened his mouth to call after him but decided against it, snapping it shut again and sliding back on the desk, leaning his head against the wall.

Blaine dragged his feet through the door to his apartment around six o'clock that evening, toeing off his shoes and walking to his room. He dropped onto his bed, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

"Blainers?" Santana poked her head around his door, a small smile on her face.

"Not now, Satan," Blaine whined.

She raised her eyebrows. "That bad, huh?"

"Worse."

"What happened?"

Blaine sat up, blinking in disbelief. "Which part of not now didn't you get?"

"Do you not know me at all?" Santana grinned, sitting on the edge of the man's bed and lifting his feet onto her lap as he lay back down. "What happened, Bilbo?"

Blaine rolled his eyes at the nickname. "Just a problem child."

"Sounds bad. What'd he do?"

"How are you so sure it was a guy?"

"Because if they were a chick they wouldn't have gotten you so hot and bothered. Just tell me he had a nice ass?"

Blaine chuckled. "He had an amazing ass."

Santana grinned. "So what did he do?"

"He was basically just a jackass. Not a lot I could do; he wouldn't listen to anything I said. It just...really pissed me off. But the way he was acting...I could tell it wasn't reallyhim."

"It never is. But he was cute?"

"He's mystudent, Satan."

"I know. But a little bit of eye candy never hurt anyone."

Blaine grabbed a pillow and playfully hit her with it. "You're crazy."

"And you're sex on a stick. So what?"

The man rolled his eyes for what felt like the billionth time since he'd first met Santana in college. To be fair, it probably was.

"The thing is, Santana, in that moment that he first walked through the door...it was like I could seeeverythingwith him. Is that stupid? He's my student, it could never happen and I just don't understand."

Santana arched a perfect eyebrow. "What was he, a senior?" Blaine nodded, so she continued. "That's what, an eight year age gap? Trust me, Blainers, I've seen much worse than that before."

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm his teacher and he's underage. It's illegal."

"Blaine, I know you. You won't let anything happen no matter what goes down. You can dream. Jack off, have a bit of fun. You're dating Sebastian anyway, right?"

"For the last time, Satan, I'm not dating Sebastian."

"I thought you were against the whole 'friends with benefits' thing, though? Don't think I couldn't hear you two the other night."

"Santana," he warned.

"What? You were going at it like rabbits in heat. And I don't think rabbits even go into heat."

Blaine couldn't help but laugh aloud at that, but he quickly focused in all seriousness. "I'm not dating Sebastian. Sex is not dating; I learned that from you."

"That's because I'm awesome. Anyway, what was his name? The kid, I mean."

"Kurt. Kurt Hummel," Blaine sighed.

"How do you know Kurt, my precious dolphin?" Brittany asked, walking into the room and flopping onto the bed next to Blaine.

The man raised his eyebrows. "He's in one of my classes. The question is: how doyouknow him? Because what you just said made it sound like..." he trailed off, hoping the statement spoke for itself.

"We went to the same dance class when we were little. He was really good. Well, if it's the same Kurtie. I miss my happy, happy unicorn."

Blaine blinked at Santana, who was sat gazing adoringly at her girlfriend. He grinned, lifting his feet off of the Latina's lap and sitting up. He turned back to Brittany.

"So he was a dancer?"

"Yeah!"

Blaine nodded. Kurt didn't come across as the type of kid who danced, but he figured appearances could be deceiving, right?

"Thanks for that, Britt. That's definitely going to help me out a hell of a lot. I doubt it'll get him to open up completely, but it's definitely a start.