The Proper Way to Fall A Little Bit In Love With Kurt Hummel

Usually, just talking with him will do the trick...

The next day I made sure to wake up with the bell that signaled the end of second period and grinned openly at Kurt when he walked into the room. He walked stiffly towards the seat he had sat in the day before, eying me the whole way as if he expected me to suddenly jump on top of my desk and proclaim his secret to the class.

"Someone's jumpy," I said once he was situated at the desk directly to my left.

He bit his lip and ran his fingers somewhat nervously over the cover of his book, but otherwise said nothing.

"Relax, it's not like I'm going to say anything."

He looked around a bit frantically at that, searching for eavesdroppers. When he found none he shot an angry glare my way.

I couldn't help it, I laughed and he haughtily turned away from me to read his book.

Class started and I settled back in my chair, making myself comfortable. I didn't fight the allure this time and studied him with unabashed interest. Now that I knew why I felt so drawn to him I was able to look my fill without greatly disturbing myself. I checked him out like I would any other guy I found attractive, with a shit eating smirk on my face and a thick air of confidence.

Somewhere at the back of my mind I wondered what I was doing. For the sake of keeping my head above water so that I didn't completely drown myself in all things Kurt, our relationship had to be kept strictly platonic. Despite my casual sex only relationship rule, I sensed that the second I got involved with Kurt, even if it was just physically, I would be following him around like a lovesick puppy for the rest of my life. Therefore, there would be no one-time-only-but-still-hot-as-all-fuck sex with Kurt bent over the headmaster's desk for me, no matter how appealing that was. I had to keep my distance.

But teasing him was ridiculously amusing, so I indulged against my better judgment, purposely being obvious about the fact that I was leering at him.

It didn't take too long for him to sense that something about the way I was looking at him was different that way it had been from the day before. He lost focus on his book, shooting glances my way every few minutes and blushing at the obvious admiration in my eyes.

I quickly became addicted to the rise I was getting out of him, which was both adorable and entertaining as hell, so I upped the ante by biting one side of my lip as I smirked at him. As I stared into his eyes I slowly pulled my lip free of the hold my teeth had on it, dragging skin against bone. Kurt watched the whole thing with a slightly blank expression on his face and then took me by surprise. Instead of looking shyly away again, his eyes narrowed in suspicion and annoyance lit in his eyes.

The look on his face made it clear that he didn't appreciate being played with but I found myself chuckling and unable to recall the last time I had had so much fun.

With a vicious glare, he snatched a notebook from his bag and scribbled a quick note. He tore the paper, crumpled it, and it at me, scowling when I managed to catch it before it hit me between the eyes. I grinned at the message once I managed to smooth the paper down enough for the words to be legible: Will you stop doing that?

Doing what? I scrawled back before tossing it back to him without any kind of discretion.

The grip he had on his pen tightened and I was surprised that he hadn't left holes in the paper once I had it back in my hands.

Really? That's what you're going to go with? was his reply.

I'm having too much fun to stop, was mine. He rolled his eyes and returned his attention to his book, pretending to be engrossed.

I was just about to ask him what he was reading when Hedley snatched the paper from under my pen. "Passing notes, Mr. Anderson?" he asked in a triumphant tone that grated on my nerves.

I frowned and leaned back against the back of my chair. "Do I really need to answer that, or are we counting that as a rhetorical question?"

A vein in the side of Hedley's neck presented itself. I liked to call it Blaine. "Perhaps you'd like to share what you find so much more important than my class."

"Just about anything, actually," I said dryly, "so that might take me a while." I grinned. "But, hey, if you've got the time..."

Hedley's jaw bulged. "This is a school, Mr. Anderson, not a free for all," he snapped. "Either you pay attention in my class or you can walk yourself down to Headmaster Bennett's office."

I grabbed up my bag from the floor and stood up. "Actually, I could use a good walk." Math was almost over and I wasn't in Kurt's next class. At least this way I had an excuse to skip.

I looked down at Kurt, who was looking at me with raised eyebrows. "Don't go to the cafeteria after next period, alright? Meet me in the entrance hall."

Everyone turned to look at Kurt and he turned slightly red under all the attention. Still, he maintained his icy glare, red cheeks and all, and gave no indication of whether or not he would do as I asked. I grinned.

Hedley pointed forcibly at the door. "Goodbye, Mr. Anderson. And you can be sure I'll be checking in with the headmaster to see if went like you were supposed to."

Without bothering to look back I flicked my fingers out in mock salute as I strode to the door.

Bennett's office was a fun time. I sat there quietly and let him give me his usual spiel: my father would be disappointed, blah blah, not even daddy's money can keep me safe from expulsion if I keep it up, blah blah, need to get my act together, blah blah.

I have to say I didn't agree with the getting my act together bit. I liked to think of my 'disruptive behavior' as a benefit towards local society. You see, Bennett liked hearing himself talk, so giving him an excuse to bust out the good ol' soap box every once in a while and blab for an hour about my many atrocities made him feel like he'd accomplished something. Therefore, instead of crabbing around his front lawn later on and spraying unsuspecting kids with the garden hose, maybe he would get someone to sit on his dick and possibly even help him pull out the stick stuffed up his ass. That way, Bennett was happy, the kids were happy, and I was happy since I didn't have to go to class and thinking about all this really sort of amused me, as did the way the three hairs poking out of Bennett's left nostril blew each time exhaled, but that was another matter.

Anyway, in conclusion, my getting sent to Bennett's office was a win for everyone, really. Except for the poor woman who had to sit on Bennett's dick; she got the short stick out of the deal. There was nothing I could do about Bennett's anatomy, though, which no doubt left much to be desired, so that was out of my hands.

When Bennett was done playing authority figure I made my way to the entrance hall and sat down against a wall to wait for Kurt, who was nowhere to be found despite the fact that lunch period was already fifteen minutes in. I waited patiently, knowing he would show up eventually. For all his eye rolls and huffing and puffing, I could tell he was just as intrigued by me as I was by him. The difference was that I was a lot less stubborn about it.

Sure enough, after about ten minutes, he showed up with a frown on his face and his white board in his hands. Once he was a few feet away, he turned it over so I could see the front of it.

What do you want from me? Are we friends now or something?

It was kind of adorable and I couldn't help but grin up at him. "You're not going to talk to me?"

He didn't need to use the board to give me his answer. The no was pretty clear on his face.

I shrugged, unconcerned. "Maybe later," I said and stood up. I walked over to him and grabbed his hand, lacing our fingers together so that our palms could touch. (Not exactly platonic, but I couldn't help myself. I needed to be close to him.)

He lifted one eyebrow at our hands, an expression I was growing to like on him, but didn't pull away.

I gave his hand a light tug to get him moving. "Come on. I can only stand this place for so long. We're going for a walk."

We walked silently past the parking lots, the courtyards, and the few students eating outside, towards Dalton's one and only tree-a huge, old oak. Kurt craned his head backwards to look up at the leaves.

"This is the best spot on the grounds," I told him. "As you can see, there aren't rose bushes all over the damn place unlike everywhere else around here." I wrinkled my nose and dropped to the ground, letting go of Kurt's hand at the last second so I didn't yank him down with me. Stretching out on my back, I made myself comfortable. Kurt remained on his feet and looked down at me. "I fucking hate rose bushes. Bushes in general are pointless-they make me feel claustrophobic and they're creepy in large groups, but rose bushes are just offensive."

His expression told me he thought I was strange and I shrugged. "Roses suck," I informed him. "They're overrated for a flower that can make you bleed if you hold on too tight." I pushed myself up on my elbows and frowned at him. "Don't you want to sit?"

Instead of answering my question, he simply wrote, My pants. I noted the fact that he used an incomplete statement instead of giving me a straight answer. It answered my question in a way that wouldn't force him to lie. It also reminded me of something I had been wondering about.

"So how does this whole dishonesty thing work? Are there exceptions? Like, can you tell the truth if you write it down?"

He looked at me and said nothing, his expression guarded.

"You can trust me, you know," I said in a more gentle tone.

He looked at me and I could tell that he didn't entirely believe me, but his lips parted and he spoke anyway. "Yes," was what he said and I heard the resounding, No, in my head.

I made a hissing noise. "Rough. What about gestures? Can you nod?"

"If I can't be honest on paper what makes you think I'd be able to be honest by physical means?" he asked and I grimaced at the idea of being so handicapped by your own self. He sighed at the frown on my face. "Are you starting to catch on that this is less like an ability and more like a curse?" he asked and I nodded my agreement.

Still, I had to admit I was impressed by his ability to communicate verbally through questions. It said that he was unwilling to be victim to his own condition.

"You found a loophole, though, I see," I said, referring to his redirection skills.

He glanced down at me and I saw he had that almost smile on his lips again, only this one was a touch devilish. "Did I?"

I laughed out loud. "Absolutely gorgeous and he refuses to just lie there and take it." I smirked at his wide eyed glance. "You are gay, right? Please tell me you're gay."

"W-Why? Are you?"

"You think I would point out that I find you attractive if I was straight?"

I could redirect, too.

He shrugged, scowling at the ground as his cheeks got a little bit redder. "How should I know?"

I took pity on him. "Breathe, gorgeous, it's just harmless flirting. And, yes, I'm gay."

Perhaps it was even a little too harmless. I was beginning to feel like I was on a date.

I looked up at Kurt. He wasn't just beautiful. He was cute, too-adorable, even, with his red cheeks and shy sideways glances. That was dangerous, too, I decided-perhaps even more so than getting physically involved with him. My feelings towards him were a little bit too sentimental for comfort.

I liked him. I liked his bite and his sarcasm and his wit. I liked his stubborn refusal to let his restrictions keep him from living how he wanted to.

Again, it was brought to my attention how very easily I could get addicted to Kurt Hummel-especially if I wasn't careful. Those beautiful eyes glanced my way again. Very careful.

"So you gonna answer my question or what?" I prompted against my better judgment. I couldn't help it. I needed to know more and he was a fascinating enigma. "You can blink once for yes and two for no," I said with a cheeky grin. He shot me a vicious look.

"I'm straight," he snapped.

"Was that so difficult?" I asked after hearing his truth.

His expression asked, "Do you really want to know?" and I chuckled in response before lowing myself back down.

After that we were quiet for a while. It was unusually hot for the end of September and the shine of the sun through the still green leaves felt nice on my face. Eventually Kurt sat very carefully down on one of the larger roots not covered by the dirt and grass and I smiled at him. He looked back at me with inquisitive eyes.

"How can you tell when someone is lying to you?" he asked softly, leaning forward slightly to wrap his arms around his raised knees.

I shifted onto my side to see him better, propping my head up with one arm. "In layman's terms, I hear the truth in my head."

"And the more complex version?"

"Difficult to explain. It's kind of like hearing someone's thoughts, only more complicated. It's not like I was given a manual or anything, but I don't think I hear what the person is actually thinking when they lie. It's more like I hear in my head what the person would have had to say to be completely honest."

His eyes shifted momentarily to the side as he thought about it. "So, I say after dinner I went straight to bed and you hear...?"

My face scrunched with concentration as I struggled to listen to the rundown in my head and reiterate it at the same time. I missed a few of the more minor details, but got it mostly right. "After dinner I did my homework, listened to Ingrid Michaelson songs while I went through my nighttime skincare routine, brushed my teeth, texted my dad 'I love you and good night' and told him to send my love to Carole and Finn, I wondered briefly if Sebastian's absence at night was going to be a reoccurring thing-keep your fingers crossed on that one-got into bed and..." My eyebrows lifted at the last bit and I trailed off to give Kurt's truth my full attention.

Kurt squirmed. "And what?" he asked nervously.

A devilish grin started slowly at my lips. "And thought about Blaine Anderson until I fell asleep." Kurt turned cherry red and I smirked at him. "Did you really? Something you care to elaborate on?"

He looked away and said nothing.

I laughed. "Didn't think it would be that thorough, huh?"

"What's it like hearing people's voices in your head?" he asked in lieu of a response.

The grin slipped from my face and I turned serious once again. "Depends on whose voice it is."

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

"If the person has a really annoying mental voice... eh, it's hard to explain. Sometimes the voices come in too loud or they just sound inhuman. The inhuman ones used to scare the shit out of me when I was a kid. The worst part is feeling trapped, though." I shrugged. "It's not something I can escape by covering my ears, you know?"

He frowned thoughtfully and after a minute, a worried look settled on his face. "Is my voice one of the bad ones?"

I shook my head. "Your voice is beautiful," I told him seriously, looking right into his eyes and letting the raw honesty I felt shine through.

He flushed again and this time I couldn't bring myself to grin playfully at him, even though I knew I probably should have, just to make light of the situation and release some of the tension in the air. My lips tingled as we continued to look into each other's eyes and for a wild moment I wondered what would happen if I just leaned up and kissed him. I would keep my eyes closed and tilt my head to the right, maybe even cradle the side of his head in my hand, just to feel more of his skin against mine. I wondered if he would kiss me back.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"You're welcome."

Wes kept us longer than usual for Warbler practice, much to my annoyance, and I wasn't the only one peeved off. It was hot enough in the practice room to make everyone crabby. Even Trent was less bubbly than usual and Kurt looked about ready to pass out.

Wes was relentless. He ignored everyone's angry glares and pleas for mercy and ordered us to toughen up and stop whining ("Correct me if I'm wrong, boys, but did I or did I not say yesterday that practice was adjourned? We all know what adjourned means, yes?"). Our groans fell on deaf ears.

Still, despite fifteen more minutes of side-stepping like a robot, it was fifteen more minutes I got to spend with Kurt, even if he did look exhausted. I couldn't blame him. Side-stepping sounded easy enough, but do it continuously for over hour and you start to feel it. The heat certainly didn't help.

After practice I headed straight for the showers, parting ways with Kurt halfway between the bathrooms and the dorms. I had to forcibly peel my uniform from my body because of how much I had been sweating (Wes insisted that everyone be in uniform for practice and I had learned a long time ago that the wrath of Wesley Montgomery was a force with which one did not fuck), so it took a bit longer than usual, but struggle was well worth it once the cool shower water was trailing down my too hot skin.

The time spent alone in the shower forced me to think, so of course I thought about Kurt. There was still so much I wanted to know about him. Like, what kind of a relationship did he have with his family (I kept thinking about the texts he had sent the night before to his father)? What was his favorite thing to do on rainy days? What did he love most? And, most importantly, how had he not been classified as a D4 by SIIPA?

For those of you who don't know, and I'm assuming that's about 99.999 percent of you, SIIPA (pronounced Seepa) stands for Special Intelligence for Individuals with Preternatural Abilities. Upon discovering what our abilities are, SIIPA categorizes us into one of five Divisions.

People classified as D1 are understood to be fully capable of functioning within 'normal' society and are not assigned a handler. Touch empaths, or people with the ability to read the emotions of others through physical contact, are typically classified as D1.

D2s generally consist of the less powerful psychics. Usually you'll find a D2 referring to herself as Madame Something-Or-Other as she wiggles her fingers at a crystal ball she bought on eBay and answers mundane questions about how many children the sap sitting spellbound across from her will have and what letter the name of his one true love starts with.

Everyone classified as D2 or higher is assigned a handler. Handlers are the SIIPA agents who monitor the actions of all us freaks. A lot of Handers are D1s but some 'normal' people are thrown into the mix, too.

A D3 is any individual who has an ability that could potentially prevent him or her from functioning in normal society. Us D3s are kept under very close watch by SIIPA. Should any of us step out of line, our classification will be bumped up to D4 and we'll be taken into SIIPA custody.

A D4 is someone whose ability prohibits him from blending in with normal society. D4s are rounded up and sent to live in a facility where they will be 'safe.'

Finally there are D5s.

D5s are considered to be dangerous to themselves and everyone around them. They are institutionalized for their own safety and are only allowed contact with others in very special circumstances. Thinking about D5s and the facilities they are kept in depresses me, so if you don't mind I'm going to move on. If you do mind, I'm still going to move on.

As I showered, I thought a lot about Kurt's condition and how it differed from my own. Usually someone like Kurt who was bound and controlled by his condition to lie (despite his apparent determination not to be) would be classified as D4. I myself was bound by my own ability, but mine was less obvious than Kurt's. I could hide my ability from normal people, which was why I was classified as a D3 (not a D2 because there was always the possibility I could snap under the constant influx of truth in my skull, kind of like the way I freaked out in the cafeteria, only on a much larger scale). For the most part, though, I could make myself look normal and blend in. Kurt could hide the fact that he was forced to lie, but the way he hid it made him stand out because it made him noticeably different. SIIPA didn't like for us to stand out.

And what would happen to Kurt once people began to notice that he wasn't quite normal-not in a preternatural way, but just strange in general? SIIPA didn't like for us to be strange either, and even the most innocent situations were potentially dangerous for Kurt.

For example, Wes might ask me "You're singing 'Teenage Dream' tomorrow, right?" the day before a scheduled performance and it would be my job to say yes. It was the type of question people asked all the time-just to confirm that everyone was on the same page. When a question like was asked, both the asker and the person answering already knew what the response would be. Wes would already know that I was going to say yes. In fact, he would expect me to say yes.

What would Kurt do in that situation? Say nothing? It wasn't like he could lie. Sooner or later, he was going to get trapped.

With that cryptic thought, I turned the cold water tap to shut the water off. It probably wouldn't do me any good to wonder too much about Kurt. I didn't think he would actually share that sort of information with me anyway. At least not yet.

I pulled most of my uniform back on after doing a shitty job of drying myself off with my blazer. Then, with my blazer tossed over my shoulder, and my shirt unbuttoned due to sheer laziness, I walked back to my dorm.

When I got there I found Sebastian splayed across my bed naked as the day he was born. He was stretched out on his back with one leg bent at the knee and his arms folded under his head looking like the picture of ease.

"What the fuck?"

Sebastian popped and eye open and grinned at me. "Hey, Blaine. Steven stepped out to get food-we're in between rounds at the moment." He rolled to the side and gripped my sheets, pressing his face in close to breathe deep. "I just decided lay down here for a while. It smells just like you." He grinned.

Nonplused, I walked over to the nightstand by the bed and dropped my carrier bag on the floor. "Get off my bed, Smythe."

Sebastian grinned like a cat and moved to stretch out on his back again, his bent leg falling more to the side so that he was on display. He rolled his hips a little. "I don't think I will."

Pulling my blazer from my shoulders, I whipped the material down so that it smacked against his naked crotch with an audible CRACK.

Air whooshed out of his lungs and Sebastian's eyes went wide a moment before they squeezed shut and his hands shot down to cup himself. He rolled onto his side, going into the fetal position, his mouth still wide open and his face screwed up. I rolled my eyes and used my foot to push him off my bed. He landed on the floor with thump and a groan.

I walked around the bed to where he lay on the floor. I bent down into a squat and leaned forward, invading his personal space. "If you ever go near my bed again, naked or otherwise, you won't like what I do to yours."

"Fuck you," was his breathless response.

I grinned. "I don't think you can get it up right now."

The door opened then and Steven's shocked gasp reached my ears. "Oh my god!" he shrieked as he pushed past me and dropped down next to Sebastian. Sebastian pushed Steven away and rolled to his other side as he let out a string of curses. Rejected, Steven turned his accusatory eyes on me. "What did you do?"

I shrugged. "Whipped him with my blazer."

"In the private?" Steven exclaimed, making my eyebrows shoot towards my hair line.

"Yes, Steven," I rolled my eyes, "in the private." I rolled my eyes again and stood up, leaving Steven to deal with Sebastian, who still had both hands on his crotch. I snorted to myself. "In the private," I muttered once more, because, really, who said shit like that? I quickly exchanged my dress shirt and pants for the first tank top and pair of sweatpants I could find and got the fuck out of dodge, needing to be away from the offensive idiocy in the air.

Sebastian had been inside my dorm twice now without my permission, so I saw no qualms about heading over to his. There was soft music coming from inside, but it silenced once I knocked. Kurt opened the door a few seconds later wearing white leggings that hugged his legs sinfully and a long tan sweater with a wide neckline that showed the pale skin of his shoulders. It obviously wasn't an outfit made for a male, but fuck did he pull it off.

"Blaine?" he asked, obviously surprised, and I nearly whined at the sound of my own name.

"Hey, gorgeous."

He rolled his eyes. "Did you want something?" he asked, but not before checking to see whether there was anyone else in the hallway who might hear.

"Yeah, for you to say my name again," I answered honestly. He huffed his annoyance and I chuckled, but decided to stop teasing him. "Sebastian is naked in my room-again-and there are only so many times I can take that sort of thing before I get violent, so can I come in?"

Kurt's eyes went wide. "He's..."

"Naked. In my room. Probably going to fuck my roommate once he regains the feeling in his dick."

He scrunched up his nose. "Do I want to know?"

"It might amuse you. But I can't tell you about it unless you let me in."

He considered that for a moment before stepping back and holding the door open wide enough to admit me. I grinned cheekily at him and stepped inside and he shut the door behind me.