He counted himself lucky that he was able to get close to the gorgeous boy with the hazel eyes and gelled hair, even when said boy had previously gifted him a look of loathing. Kurt didn't blame him. Instead, he had tried to soften the blow of his previous conduct with some light banter and flirtation. And when he did manage to slip the watch in his pocket as the boy became distracted, Kurt had revelled in the warm, musky scent that could only belong to Blaine Anderson. As he mulled over the finer details of the boy – his eyes, voice and lips in particular – his hand had unwittingly left the side of the pillow and moved down to nestle inside his briefs. Kurt stopped his fingers before they were able to grasp at what they were searching for: if he was going to go any further, it needed to be done with discretion.

He knew the other boys liked to boast about pleasuring themselves before lights out, and he grimaced at the thought them doing so in full view of an officer walking past. Despite the solid concrete walls that housed each cell, the noise made whenever someone nearby was in the throes of self-expression made them seem paper-thin. Kurt knew this all too well from having his room situated next door to Finn Hudson's.

Unfortunately for Kurt, Finn's vocal expressions of his doing sounded as if he was either in agony or trying to pass a very difficult bowel movement. One night during the past week, Kurt had just barely begun to fall asleep when he heard the all-too familiar grunting through the wall to his right, this time interposed with the addition of 'Rachel…Rachel…': it made Kurt delay sleep until the activity on the other side of the wall had subsided.

Kurt reached over and grabbed a handful of tissues from his nightstand, sliding them under his pillow. As if providing further encouragement, the lights in the corridor went out, shrouding him and the room in total darkness, save for a strip of white light across his bed from an outside street lamp. He turned himself over so that he was lying on his stomach, hearing the protest of the springs in the mattress as he rested his head to one side. Again he reached down into his briefs and stroked himself once, feeling his cock already half-hard underneath him.

As he continued, he thought back to the week where he had kissed Blaine, but this time, Blaine was kissing back with want and need and desperation, desiring nothing more than Kurt' lips on his own and Kurt's tongue tangled with his. Kurt stifled a moan into his pillow; he needed to be quiet in case anyone heard and used it against him. His small, shallow breaths quickened with each stroke of his hand and he conjured up what he knew was another unlikely scenario in his mind: Blaine lowering himself down to his knees, eyes dark with lust as he kissed Kurt without meeting his lips. Then the hand that Kurt was using to stroke himself with became Blaine's tongue and then Blaine's mouth. Blaine's eyes were closed in pleasure, his eyelashes quivering as he sucked Kurt down, almost as if his life depended on it…

Kurt reached for the tissues just in time as he came, biting down hard on his lip to stifle his cry, drawing blood. He felt sweat on his forehead and chest but he quickly cleaned himself up, thankful that he was able to avoid soiling his pajamas and mattress. He drew the blanket up to his neck and rolled back over to his side, sucking the blood from his bitten lower lip. His body was satisfied but he couldn't shake the feeling that he somehow felt empty. Even so, he closed his eyes. He thought of how long it would take for Blaine Anderson to figure out that he was again in possession of an item that was not his, and would again need to return it to its owner.

As it turned out, not long at all.

…

Blaine just wanted to get it over and done with.

On Monday afternoon, he took the route to McKinley, Kurt Hummel's watch tapping against his pocket with every step he walked. When he reached the school's reception area, he was asked to sign in and leave his satchel behind. Deciding not to remove his blazer after being assured he would not be visiting the cells again, he was accompanied to the meeting area and asked to take a seat at one of the empty tables.

The meeting area was a spacious hall with a high ceiling and housed rows upon rows of aluminium tables, bench seats on either side. Unlike the living quarters of the school, it contained natural light from the windows that surrounded the vast proportion of it. A few officers stood around by the walls, keeping watch. Blaine looked around; students were seated facing their family members and the gentle hum of conversation hung in the air. To the left of him was a boy with his parents seated opposite; his head was hung and he was staring at his knees. His parents were looking at him expectantly but he didn't seem to be in the mood for talking.

Blaine straightened up as he saw Kurt walk through the door at the far end of the hall, accompanied by another officer. His pale skin and light brown hair contrasted with his navy blue tracksuit uniform, but Blaine realised how much they brought out the color of his eyes. On seeing Blaine, Kurt stopped in surprise, but a little smirk played up on his lips and he breezed over to Blaine's table, maneuvering himself around to the bench opposite him.

'Hello,' said Kurt, slowly easing himself down without taking his eyes off Blaine. 'Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?'

The staring unnerved Blaine, but even so, he reached down into his blazer and pulled out the watch, slamming it on to the table. He saw Kurt flinch at the sound it made on impact but Blaine didn't care; he slid the watch in the centre of the table so that it sat between them.

'You left this behind,' he muttered gruffly. Kurt looked down at it briefly but returned his gaze to Blaine again.

'So I did,' Kurt replied. He shifted his weight and to Blaine it looked as though he had crossed his legs under the table. 'It must have somehow…slipped from my grasp.'

Blaine opened his mouth to call his bluff, but he promptly closed it as he felt something brush his thigh.

'I knew I could count on you to return it,' Kurt continued, and Blaine felt what he now knew was Kurt's sneaker, nudging just underneath his blazer to the side of his thigh, slowly massaging the length of his trousers. Blaine moved his body away, shifting over to one side which made for a much more uncomfortable sitting angle.

'Can you please just stop?'

'Stop what?' Kurt's eyes were sparkling.

'Stop that,' Blaine demanded, annoyed.

'I'm sorry,' Kurt replied, resting his elbow on the table and placing his hand on his cheek. 'You'll have to tell me exactly-'

'Stop feeling up my leg!' Blaine hissed, his eyes shooting daggers at Kurt.

Kurt smiled sweetly. 'Very well.' Blaine felt the movement stop, but Kurt made no motion to remove his sneaker, instead resting it beside Blaine's thigh. Blaine sighed; he hadn't even spent five minutes with Kurt and he had already given up on fighting Kurt's advances.

'So what can I do for you, honey?' Kurt asked, leaning back in his seat and observing him. 'I have a few things in mind, but I'd like to hear your suggestions first.'

Blaine didn't know if there was anything he could ask him without resulting in more teasing.

'Why are you here?' Blaine said quietly, staring at the watch on the table.

'What was that?'

Blaine looked up at him. 'Why are you here? What did you do that made you get sent here? '

He felt air where Kurt's sneaker had been, and Kurt sat further back, placing both hands on the table in front of him.

'I did something I shouldn't have,' Kurt replied, moving his eyes down to his hands. 'And I have regretted it since.'

'Which was?' Blaine prompted.

'I can't tell you.' His smirk returned as he lifted his eyes away from his hands, but it seemed less pronounced this time.

Kurt liked to play games – that, Blaine was sure of. But now Blaine had a sudden idea; if everything was a game to Kurt, then there was no reason he shouldn't play along too.

'But we can talk about something else…wait, where are you going?'

'I'm leaving,' Blaine replied, standing up from his seat. He hesitated for a moment before picking up the watch in the middle of the table. 'And I'm taking this back with me. Unless, of course, you want to tell me the reason why you're at McKinley.'

Kurt stared at him and muttered something wordlessly, but his final answer was a definite 'no.'

'Suit yourself.' Blaine slid himself through the gap between the bench and the table.

'You'll have to return it at some point,' Kurt pointed out smugly, folding his hands across his chest.

Blaine could have told him that he had the power to dispose of the watch if he wanted to, but he felt that would have been too cruel.

'Fine. See you in a week,' he said instead, turning away. The smile on the other boy's face disappeared.

'One - one week? One whole week?' Blaine chose to ignore Kurt's exclamation and walked out of the hall, his hand clenched over the watch which he then slipped back into his blazer pocket.

Check, Blaine thought to himself.