Kurt was dreading going to glee club on Thursday. He thought that would be the one place he'd be free from Blaine Anderson, since he'd already taken over everything else – his classes, the Cheerios, and even his dreams, though he would never admit that to anyone.

He walked into the choir room, feeling almost sick to his stomach, and took his regular seat in the back corner next to Santana. "So, Berry tells me that your little admirer is joining glee club." She paused for a moment, then added, "He must really want to get in your pants."

"Well, I'm not going to let him," Kurt said.No matter what happens in my dreams, he didn't.

"Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart," she replied, patting his thigh with a condescending hand. He promptly slapped it away and Santana smiled serenely at him before turning to her left to talk to Brittany.

By the time Mr. Schue walked in with Blaine, Kurt had made sure that someone was sitting on his right so Blaine didn't have a chance to. Which meant that he was stuck listening to Rachel blabber on about whatever solo she wanted to sing next, but it was worth it.

"Welcome back, guys," Mr. Schue said with that level of enthusiasm that only he was capable of. "Now I know we're a couple men down-"

"Only because Puckerman couldn't convince Zizes to stay," Santana interjected.

"- But that's okay," Mr. Schue continued as if Santana hadn't spoken. He tended to do that, ignore Santana and Kurt's bitchy quips. "Because we have someone who'd like to audition. So let's give Blaine our attention, okay?" He sat down in the front row, giving Blaine the floor.

Blaine sat down at the piano and Kurt sat a little straighter in his seat, prepared to laugh at him when he inevitably failed and Mr. Schue asked him to leave. But then he started playing and Kurt slumped back in his seat.

And then he started to sing

It's a little bit funny this feeling inside

Of course he could sing. He could do everything else, so why shouldn't he be able to sing? Kurt crossed his arms – he knew he was being petty, but he couldn't find it in him to care. He hadn't even known Blaine for a full week and he was already ruining his life.

You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue

Blaine locked his eyes with Kurt's and Kurt got the message – this song was for him. Kurt could also understand the deeper, hidden meaning – this was Blaine's way of trying to get Kurt to sleep with him.

Well, it wasn't going to work.

Blaine finished the song and everyone but Kurt applauded. He was fuming because he could already tell that Blaine was on his way to having the entire school under his thumb. Except that this wasKurt'sschool and he wasn't going to let it go without a fight.

Mr. Schue welcomed Blaine to the club and he sat in the seat directly in front of Kurt. "Hey, gorgeous," he said, turning to look at Kurt, completely ignoring Mr. Schue as he started rehearsal. "Like the song?"

"Leave me alone, Anderson," Kurt snapped, looking up at the ceiling to avoid looking at the way Blaine's uniform strained around his biceps.

"Aww, don't be like that." Blaine reached out a hand and tried to rest it on Kurt's knee. Kurt slapped it away. "Fine, have it your way, then." Blaine turned back around in his seat and Kurt felt a little uneasy. He'd been trying for days to get Blaine to leave him alone and then all of a sudden he does? It was just too good to be true.

His phone buzzed and he dug it out of his bag. Unlocking the screen, he saw a text from Blaine that read:

jsyk...i don't give up easily

Kurt groaned and shoved the phone deep in his bag, ignoring the text. He wasn't going to let Blaine get to him.

"Party at my place tonight, Hummel," Puck said without preamble, walking up to Kurt before homeroom one day.

"Already? School only started two weeks ago."

"Exactly. Two weeks is a long time, man. Gotta get the party season started before one of the hockey dudes steals my thunder." Kurt nodded as if that was completely logical and not dumb at all. "So you in?"

Kurt didn't usually go to parties on Friday nights because he was terrified of what would happen if he missed another Friday night dinner, but his dad and Carole had plans to go out that night, so there wasn't even a dinner to miss.

"Sounds good," he said.

"Awesome," Puck replied. "Can you pass the message on to Santana?" Kurt said that he would and Puck walked away after slapping Kurt hard on the back.

Kurt spent the rest of the day deflecting questions from Rachel about hanging out (he never told her about parties because she was never invited) and ignoring advances from Blaine about hooking up at Puck's party. It was all very tiring and by the time he got home, all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep forever.

"Get up!" A pillow connected with Kurt's head and he groaned, rolling over to stare at Santana. "Come on, Sleeping Beauty. Your daddy let me in so you can help make me pretty – well,prettier– for the party tonight, so let's go." She hit him with the pillow again, a smile on her face. Kurt rolled his eyes at her and got out of bed, stretching until his back popped.

"Okay, let's see what you gave me to work with." He dragged Santana's duffle bag towards him, pulling out the outfits she packed. "Are these dresses or shirts?" he asked, which earned him another smack in the head with the pillow. "But seriously," he said, handing her the most modest thing he could find, "you have more self-respect than that. I know you do."

"Okay, okay," she said, stepping out of her Cheerios skirt. "No need to go all Dr. Phil on me."

After she got dressed, Kurt braided her hair and said, "Hey, I'm your best friend, I'm allowed to go all Dr. Phil on you if you want."

"Not if you don't want me to start asking questions about you and a certain co-captain."

"There's nothing to tell," he said truthfully.

"Sure," she said and Kurt could tell that she didn't believe him at all. "Anyway," she continued, "I think that you should wear those pants you got the last time we were at the mall. You know, the black ones with the safety pins?"

"Are you sure?"

"Completely. Anderson won't be able to keep his hands off of you."

Kurt pushed the images that Santana's statement conjured up – he got enough of that when he was asleep, thank you very much. "I don't want his handsonme," he said, while tugging on the exact pants that Santana had suggested.

What? They made his ass look fantastic.

By the time Kurt and Santana got to Puck's apartment, the party was already in full swing and nearly everyone was drunk or well on their way.

"Kur'!" Puck yelled, stumbling over to them. He threw his arms over their shoulders, which was most likely just so he could keep himself upright. "An'... an' Sanat... San... you."

"Having fun, Puckerman?" Santana laughed, raising her voice over the pulsing bass of whatever song was playing.

"'m havin' a blast!" he slurred. "Go get a... a... one of these," he held up his beer can, "an' join the fun." Someone called his name and Puck stumbled off, leaving Kurt and Santana to their own devices.

"Well, I better go find Britt and make sure she doesn't take all of her clothes off again. Have fun, Hummel. And remember, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"So, basically, you're telling me that I can do anything," Kurt shouted at her retreating form, smiling when she flipped him off.

He wandered around, greeting friends as he went and accepting the beer one of the football players (Johnny, Kurt thought his name was) handed him. He didn't particularly like beer, or alcohol in general, but it gave him something to do. Eventually, he found himself in a relatively quiet, semi-secluded corner and sat down, sipping at the god awful drink.

Sometimes he hated being popular. He hated the people, the parties, all of it. But this was the price he had to pay to keep himself safe, so he kept his mouth shut.

"Hey, gorgeous." Kurt groaned and looked up at Blaine. "What are you doing over here all by yourself?"

"Not in the mood to party, I guess," he admitted, surprising. He had no idea why he was sort of confiding inBlaine Andersonof all people. Maybe what little beer he had was going to his head, so he set the can aside. "Are you not drinking?" he asked, noting that Blaine sounded too lucid to be drunk.

"Oh, I'm completely trashed." Blaine gave him a crooked smile that was more adorable than it should have been. "I just hold my alcohol well. Unlike some people." He gestured to the rest of the party goers, who were definitely less than sober. Kurt hoped that none of them were going to drive home at the end of the night. "You look really good, by the way. Likereallygood."

"I know," Kurt responded and, oh God, was he flirting?

"I really like you, you know."

"I don't like you."

Blaine eyed him strangely. "Do you really believe that, Kurt?" It was the first time Blaine had said his name and Kurt hated the way it made his heart speed up.

"I... yes." Well, it wasn't a complete lie. Blaine was obnoxious and Kurt hated how he apparently didn't understand what the word no meant. But... how could he hate him when being around him felt so good?

"All right, that's fine. I respect that." Blaine smiled that crooked smile again and this time Kurt smiled back. "But..." he continued and Kurt didn't like the new, sneaky tone in his voice. "Just to prove that you really don't like me, can you give me just one little kiss?" Even in the dim light, Kurt could see a glint in Blaine's eye that he could only describe as conniving.

"What?" he managed to get out.

Blaine leaned close, close enough that Kurt could taste the alcohol on Blaine's breath on his own tongue. Beyond that, however, Blaine smelled really good. Sort of musky, but also fruity, and it was completely overwhelming and Kurt was pretty sure he could get drunk on that smell alone. He could barely concentrate on anything else until Blaine spoke again.

"Kiss me, Kurt."