“I thought I told you not to touch my bed unless you plan on getting fucked on it, Jeff.” The hazel-eyed boy scowled, eyeing the rumpled checkered sheets from where he sat, leaning against the headboard.

“Aw, you’re no fun.” Jeff pouted but acquiesced, sitting on the plush carpet instead.

“Well if you want fun, why don’t you go find Nick? I’m sure he’d be willing to put up with you,” Blaine muttered.

“No, Nick’s off with Wes and David. They told me to get out of their hair.” The blonde scowled.

“So, you came to find me… why?”

“Huh…? Oh yeah! Right, well guess what I saw today when I was out near Tiller?” He grinned, looking almost puppy-like, but it faded quickly as Blaine’s eyes grew dark and angry.

“What the hell were you doing out in Tiller alone?! Dammit Jeff, you remember what happened last time? Do you want to get your ass kicked?” Blaine hissed, clenching his fists tightly as harsh memories began to resurface within him.

“BLAINE, HELP!”

Lying there several feet away was Thad, raising his hand towards him. Pure, undiluted fear swam in his eyes.

A switchblade knife raised until it slashed down into his stomach, impaling him.

They all watched in fear as the life drained from him, blood gurgling from his mouth.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, FAGGOTS!”

“Blaine, it wasn’t like-” The taller boy whimpered, releasing Blaine from his reverie.

“Shut up. I don’t even want to hear it. Just next time you go anywhere near Tiller, be sure to have back up of some kind.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes, resting his head on his hands.

“…I’m-”

“Jeff, I don’t want to hear it.”

Falling silent, Blaine closed his eyes and recounted their advise.

If you don’t want to feel like this, just remember. Breathe in… breathe out… breathe in… breathe out…

“Now, what the fuck did you come barging in here to tell me?” Startled, Jeff bit his lip and stood straight again.

“There’s a new kid. Looks like a pretty boy if you ask me.”

Blaine’s mind immediately began to conjure different images of what the boy could possibly look like. The most prominent details were blonde, stuck up attitude, prim and proper, and definitely a virgin.

He always did like virgins the best.

“A pretty boy?”

“Yeah. Pale, blue eyes, looks like he could burst into flames at any second.” Jeff counted off each attribute that he could remember. He didn’t see Blaine’s of confusion.

“Oh, and his hair looks like it gets hairsprayed at least five times a day,” Jeff added.

“Ah… So, if he was near Tiller… does that mean that he’d be making his way down to the main hall?” With a click of his tongue, he began to envision the fastest way down there, deciding to take the staircase directly across from his room.

“Seems like it.”

“Sounds fun… You go find Trent. I’m going to go meet our guest.” Blaine said and jumped off the bed.

“Alright. Don’t kick his ass to much. Portia’s still suspicious of you.” Jeff warned but winked at him and slid down the hall.

________________________________________________

It didn’t take long to find him and he understood exactly what Jeff meant when he said that the boy could burst into flames at any second.

His light brown hair was obviously well taken care of, if it’s style was any indication; he had it coiffed delicately and perfectly. And the jacket that he wore had obviously come from some famous designer. His shoes were spotless and matched his shirt, which was more than could be said about the other boys at the school.

So the kid was spoiled then?

He took his time admiring his form, but dove out of the new boy’s line of sight when he began to turn around. He ran quietly, standing directly behind the new boy. After searching the hallway, Blaine saw him shrug and turn around and he found himself face to face with quite a sight.

His chestnut hair looked even more perfect and his eyes… his eyes were the most interesting part about him.

On a first glance, they were merely light blue. But looking closer, Blaine noticed so many different colors that he couldn’t even begin to name them all—they were blue, green, grey and every color in between. He stood with a graceful poise and high chin—in fact, the only aspect of him that showed his anxiety about being in a new school, or just Dalton in general, was the furrow in his eyebrows and the bottom lip caught between his teeth.

If anybody asked, he would deny it. But in his mind he had to admit the boy truly was beautiful.

But nervousness and beauty wouldn’t get you very far at Dalton. In fact, he screamed virgin—Blaine’s favorite.

“Get out of my way, I was trying to get back to the main hall.” Blaine was snapped out of his trance by the high voice that drifted out of the new boy’s mouth.

Blaine smirked. Oh, this was going to be fun. “Is that so?”

“Yes it is so!” The boy snapped and pushed past him.

“Do you even have any idea where the front office is?” He asked, and chuckled to himself when ‘Fresh Meat’ stopped in his tracks. Blaine took his time catching up to him and stopped directly in front of him and leaned in to whisper hotly in his ear.

“Didn’t think so. That’s the wrong way, babe.” He leaned back and smirked as the boy flushed once again.

“Babe?” He squeaked.

‘How cute. The virgin’s nervous.’

“Yes, babe. Unless you’d prefer a different name, like Honey? Sweety-pie? Sugar booger?” he recommended and almost laughed at the dumbstruck look on the boy’s face.

“First of all, no. Second of all, no. Third, I don’t even know your name. So if you’d excuse me.” The boy turned around and headed back towards the door.

“Blaine.” He said, stopping him in his tracks once again.

“…What?”

“My name is Blaine.” He called after him. “Get used to saying it, I’ll have you screaming my name by the end of the month.” He winked.

“Goodbye, Blaine.” He couldn’t help but notice the waver in the boy’s voice, and the way he walked a little too fast and a little too shakily on his way to the door.

“Wonder how long it’ll take until he sleeps with me. I think I can break my record this time…” he mumbled to himself and trailed back up to his dorm.

______________________________________

“You’ll be in the Anderson dorms.” The police woman told him, not waiting for him to keep up as she walked briskly ahead.

“Anderson?”

“Yes. Breakfast is at 7am sharp, lunch is at noon, and dinner is at 7pm on the dot. If you are even a minute late, you will be locked out of the cafeteria and will not be able to eat until the next dining time. Class periods last an hour each with study periods 2 hours each. You will take 2 electives and one 3-hour discussion with a therapist and your group.” She told him and he frowned.

“Your uniform and your class schedule is in your room. I will be your guide tomorrow, but for only that day. Understood?”

Kurt felt a bit overwhelmed, but he nodded anyway. “Understood.”

“Good. Now, here is your room. Be up and ready bright and early tomorrow morning,” she told him and he nodded. The woman nodded stiffly in return and stalked off towards the hall.

‘Well… welcome to hell, Hummel.’

Kurt sighed and set down his three piece luggage set. At least the rooms were nice; they, much like the rest of the school, were mostly ambers and wood colors. The floors were carpeted in a plush deep red. There was a twin sized bed sitting stripped of sheets in the corner, and a sad little wooden dresser and mirror stood next to the mini-bathroom. A small reading lamp sat on the desk in the other far corner of the room. Kurt sighed tiredly as he imagined trying to fit all of his clothes into the tiny dresser.

“Well, well… look who we have here.”

Kurt froze in his doorway, closing his eyes. The voice—Blaine’s voice—hummed softly behind him.

“What do you want, Blaine?” said Kurt through clenched teeth. He didn’t want to deal with Blaine right now. All he wanted to do was unpack and go to sleep.

Good thing it was a Friday.

“Just welcoming the new neighbor, is all. And I never did catch your name.”

Kurt spun around to find Blaine dressed comfortably in sweats and no shirt.

No shirt.

Blushing, Kurt tore his eyes away from Blaine’s toned chest and met his eyes, only to find that they were sparkling with amusement.

“I’m Kurt, Kurt Hummel,” He said, a bit breathless.

There was a shirtless boy in his doorway.

“N-neighbor?” He cursed himself for stuttering.

“Yes, babe. I’m three doors down from you,” said Blaine simply, walking past Kurt and flopping down onto his back on Kurt’s bed. He scooted forward until his head was hanging off the edge and he was staring at Kurt’s upside-down. “Well?”

Kurt stared from the doorway. “Well’, what?”

“Well, aren’t you gonna unpack?” asked Blaine, gesturing at all the bags, making no move to get up from his position on the bed.

Rolling his eyes, Kurt closed the door and walked into the room.

No use in trying to get him up, he thought dejectedly. It was his first day and he had already managed to attract some creep.

Blaine watched as Kurt began unzipping his suitcases and started carefully hanging his designer clothes in the tiny closet and folding clothes into drawers. His eyes took their time roaming down Kurt’s thin, lean form, analyzing every curve of his arms and waist, until finally landing on his ass. His skinny jeans left almost nothing to the imagination. He smirked at the thought of reaching out to curl his fingers around his belt loops and tugging the boy against him, his cock twitching at the image his mind had concocted.

“What are you doing?”

Blaine glanced up to see that the boy in question was staring at him. His arms, firm and muscular, sat low on his hips. One of his sculpted eyebrows raised up in defiance and his mouth formed into a scowl.

And he was still adorable.

“Oh you know, just admiring the view, babe.” He winked, the familiar smirk set back in place.

It only widened as Kurt flushed.

“Stop calling me babe.” The boy ordered.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

Kurt huffed and turned away from him once again, zipping up the smallest suitcase on the ground, giving Blaine another chance to sneak a peak. He stood up slowly, and set it down to the others near his bed and faced it towards the wall.

“What’d you do to get in here anyway?” Kurt questioned.

“It’s none of your business.” Blaine snapped.

The boy opposite him pursed his lips and he watched in morbid fascination as he began to shake, the anger radiating off him in waves.

“I’ve had it,” he whispered.

“What’s that?” The delinquent rose a thick brow in mock interest.

“I have had it!” Kurt shrieked, and stomped towards him, stopping mere centimeters from the edge.

“Had it with what, princess?” Blaine mocked, his smirk growing.

“With this! This school, this dorm, and most of all, I have had it with you! Your stupid, cocky behavior! Just because you’re good looking does not give you the right to act like such an… such an asshole! I hate you! And you need to stop staring at me before I report you to the authorities for sexual harassment.” The boy screamed, his pale cheeks becoming flooded with color.

“You think I’m good looking?” Blaine commented, looking extremely pleased with himself.

Kurt glanced up and found that Blaine’s eyes now had a mischievous spark.

“No, I don—” He was cut short by an arm that snaked around his waist, bringing him closer until he was pressed against Blaine’s strong chest.

He was immediately intoxicated by the scent of cigarettes and lime that seemed to be radiating off Blaine in delicious waves.

“W-What are you…?”

And then Blaine’s lips were on his, the smell of lime and cigarettes much stronger now that he could actually taste them. A low growl erupted out of his throat and then Kurt froze.

“GET OUT OF MY FACE.”

“YOU CAN’T HANDLE JUST HOW EXTRAODINARILY ORDINARY YOU ARE-”

And then chubby, dirty hands were reaching for him, grabbing on tightly so he couldn’t escape. The panic bubbled within him at the thought of what could be happening to him. Would he be punched? Would he be given a black eye?

But all his thoughts came to an end when chapped lips covered his own, biting down on his angrily to get him to open, pushing him further back until his back hit the edge of a row of lockers much farther down from where they originally stood.

Tears bubbled up in his eyes at the thought of what was going to happen.

Kurt pushed Blaine away, gripping the sides of his head, eyes blown wide in panic.

“Babe—” The shorter boy reached out, his eyes filled with…was that worry? Maybe even fear?

But as soon as his hand touched Kurt’s arm, he slapped it away.

“Don’t touch me.” Kurt hissed, and ran to the bathroom, his voice wobbling until he slammed the bathroom door behind him.

It wasn’t until he heard the front door of his room shut that he let the tears fall in a shaky gasp.

“I’m sorry, dad… I’m sorry… Please forgive me. Please.” Kurt wrapped his arms around himself protectively, repeating it like a mantra.

It happened again.