Blaine sat in his history class on Monday afternoon, as antsy as he had been ever since waking up on Sunday morning.

He'd woken early, gone for a run, came home, touched himself tenderly, taken a shower, made himself an overly complicated lunch, practiced his piano, laid down to think about the night previous and how wonderful Kurt had been, he'd pleasured himself a second time, he'd napped, woken three hours later, read, made an overly complicated dinner for his family. His mother had walked in after her work day and been surprised to see him standing over the stove, they were not a cooking family and their manual units never saw much use, they used the synthesizer for nearly every meal, save for holidays and birthdays.

They'd eaten Blaine's roast in the formal dining room, as a family. Both of his parents staring at him suspiciously as he ate while drumming his silverware against the edge of the table, staring intently into his grilled peaches.

"Blaine, dear, stop fidgeting" his mother had reminded him. He had grumbled an apology and finished his meal in still silence. He had excused himself to bed directly after he finished doing the dishes.He'd touched himself once more, his release had come while he'd been thinking of Kurt. For the third time that day. He slipped into slumber Sunday night, thinking of how his mind had wandered to Kurt. Guilt surged through him. He had always taken pride in the fact that, even if he was a pervert, at least he had never fantasized about anyone real.

Wait no, he thought, He was not a pervert, they had told him that at the resistance, Blaine did not think himself a pervert. Kurt did not think he was a pervert. He would talk to Kurt, and tell him how he wanders into his head. Kurt would understand. Kurt who's so smart and nice.

Excitement thrummed in his belly, I get to see him again soon, and he calculated the number of hours until he would be meeting Kurt in the library.
He fell asleep thinking about Kurt, and there was now a face featured in his dreams of warm, comforting skin.

Though his Sunday had gone relatively quickly, Blaine's Monday seemed to drag on and on. He hated how angry he felt and he marveled at how the other night had changed him so. He'd never particularly liked or trusted the things they had taught him before, but now, even with only the barest of introductions into rebellion, he saw through their lies, he listened as they told him half histories and he felt rage swirling in his chest. He refused to take notes on their lies, and instead spent his day playing chess on his tablet.

He kept his eyes peeled all day, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kurt in the halls. So far he had been fruitless.

The bell rang, signifying the end of his history class. He only had chemistry to suffer through now. He slipped his tablet into it's carrying case and got up to wait his turn to file neatly into the hall.

The hallowed halls of McKinley High School were wide, students navigated their way through carefully, in straight lanes of very particular traffic. At any intersections in the corridors, teenagers stood with their elbows tucked in, blushing and insisting the other person went first. The whole process took forever and frankly, Blaine didn't have time for this bullshit. Not today.

He turned around abruptly when one particular jam was taking too long, startling the people lined up behind him. He squeezed past them, closer than the average person's comfort, and they gasped and grimaced a him, one of the school's track and field stars announced to anyone near "Anderson's tryin' to cop a feel again."

Blaine grumbled to himself and if the whoosh of air tickled them too uncomfortably as he passed, well they could just deal with it.

There was another way to get to his next class, it was further in length that his primary way, but fewer people went that way, so Blaine figured it evened out. Still, it was longer than he thought and he found himself running to get to his class in time and almost running head first into an angel.

All long legs and perfectly coiffed hair and an impeccably put together outfit, Kurt stood at his locker. His eyes were wide. Understandable, as he had suddenly had a very frazzled and frantic Blaine figuratively dropped into his lap.

"Kurt?"

"Blaine?"

"Kurt! I've been looking out for you all day!" Blaine smiled brightly despite his hurry. He put on what he hoped was a cool, calm, collected face. "I was worried you were hiding from me." He chuckled nervously.

Kurt smiled, "No not hiding. I could never purposefully avoid a smile like that... I do have to go, unfortunately, I have French." He shrugged apologetically and turned away from Blaine reluctantly. He waved his fingers at Blaine in parting. "I'll see you after school!" He called over his shoulder as he hurried away.

Blaine stood there looking after him. "I'll be there with bells on!" He called just as Kurt turned the corner. He leaned against a locker and chastised himself for using such a dorky, old-fashioned sentiment. He'd been aiming for some type of chivalry.

The warning bell rang and Blaine remembered why he'd taken the detour in the first place. He ran towards his classroom, he knew his brain would be meandering far from the periodic table, he should at least be on time.

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Kurt's only saving grace in his French class was Mercedes. She carried him through their demonstration with her own stunted French while his usual rapid-fire language skills were impared by his wandering mind. She'd finished more than one line of dialogue and had to clear her throat to bring it to Kurt's attention that it was his turn to speak.

He'd come out of his trance with a "Hmm? Oh, right uh- Oui, oui, desole`" and answered in bare-bones responses before allowing his mind to wander yet again. Her tones grew more and more annoyed as his mind wandered further and further.

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Blaine was practically skipping. Seeing Kurt in the hall seemed to have fueled the flame of his anticipation and he honestly couldn't remember ever being this excited. The excitement he had felt upon learning about and leading up to the resistance meeting was nothing compared to this. He felt butterflies fluttering in his abdomen.

And if his big, bright, wide, cheery smile inspired his cruel peers to throw things at him as he passed, well, it barely even phased him.

The old, dusty, no man's land that was the William McKinley High School library featured an entire wall of floor to ceiling windows. The three o' clock sunlight poured through them, the light catching in dust motes swirling through the air.

Kurt had delicately perched himself in one of the hideous green chairs that was positioned directly in line of the golden light. The light that caught in Kurt's high and perfect chestnut hair, that flowed over his pale skin, casting a peaches and cream glow about him.

In fewer words, Kurt looked ravishing. The darkness of two nights ago had not done him justice.

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Leather creaked under Kurt's backside as he relaxed into the chair totally lost in his thoughts, his thoughts that were far off pressed in between the pages of the book. The book that he hoped to show Blaine that night. He had read it so many times he could easily recall the character's conversations and small details were second nature. He'd subconsciously been casting himself and Blaine in the parts of the boy and the other one ever since the first time he'd seen Blaine, and now that he'd spent time with Blaine, learned his name and his voice and his scent and the feel of his skin pressed against Kurt's own, his projections went far past subconscious. The book had become a manuscript for his imagination. Everything that boy did with the other one were things Kurt couldn't help but picture doing himself, doing with Blaine. How bizarre and wonderful that such a short time ago Kurt would have been utterly scandalized by such things and now he ached for them, couldn't stop thinking about them, even in class his mind had wandered and to his horror he'd felt his pants tightening beneath his desk.

He knew he should be cautious. He knew that he should be wary of the way he felt he had cannonball dove into non-stop thinking about Blaine, knew he should question the instant obsession, but since meeting he felt so new and alive. Blaine was a welcomed splash of bright orange paint across the drab grey canvas of his life. He contemplated for a moment Blaine's simple power of making it so that he suddenly seemed to think in metaphors. He puzzled and waxed poetic and caught up in his own thoughts as he was he didn't notice Blaine had arrived and was watching him from afar.

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Blaine stood leaning against the dusty reference section watching Kurt and gathering himself to approach him without tripping or saying something stupid or, heaven forbid, getting caught up and touching him in his excitement. Kurt was staring intently at his hands folded in his lap, he looked far away in his thoughts and Blaine wanted to ask Kurt what he was thinking about and just sit and listen for hours. Unable to keep himself separated from the beautiful boy any longer he snuck up behind Kurt's chair and lowered his mouth close to his ear, closer than would normally be acceptable, but not close enough to get himself reprimanded, which of course was never close enough.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He whispered. Kurt must've jumped a meter in the air and he had made the cutest little squeak of surprise.

"It's only me, you don't have to be scared." Blaine said, trying not to giggle as he edged himself around the chair so Kurt could see him better.

Kurt's eyes were wide and his chest heaved for breath as he clutched at his heart "Jesus Blaine I almost had a coronary."

"Surely I can't be that frightening?" Blaine asked smirking a little.

"No I just.." Kurt trailed off, remembering the very sinful position he had been imagining Blaine in just as he'd heard the voice in his ear."You startled me... I was sort of... somewhere else." The faraway look flickered in his eyes again, and Blaine noticed. He wasn't as intimately acquainted with each of Kurt's expressions as he hoped to be someday, but he could tell when his attention wandered off.

"Just what was I interrupting, Kurt?" He teased.

Kurt hesitated, chewing his lip thoughtfully before- "I'll tell you- No, I can show you- about it, at my house. You're still coming over right?"

"Of course."