**

Chapter 2

“Did you have fun yesterday?” Burt asks casually as he spreads butter on his toast.

Kurt stares at his untouched breakfast. “Yeah.”

“You're quiet.”

“Tired is more like it.”

Burt looks up and squints at his son. “Hungover?”

“No! God no,” Kurt says a tad too quickly. “I don't drink, remember?”

A solemn nod. Then the crunch of teeth on toast.

To be fair, Kurt's a little hungover – but the main reason he's upset is because as this innocent morning drags on, he becomes increasingly aware of last night's happenings. Frowning, he lifts his cup of orange juice and takes a long sip.

“So, what about that new kid?” Burt asks suddenly, making Kurt bend over and cough as the juice burns his throat. “You okay?”

“I... yeah,” Kurt gasps. “Just wasn't expecting the question.”

“Is he nice?”

Kurt puts down the juice and sighs. “No.”

“Is he bothering you?”

“No, he's... he' just...,” Kurt falters, noticing yet again how difficult everything was with Blaine. What do you call a guy who constantly makes you want to scream or hurl something out the window, but simultaneously turns you on so much it's starting to physically hurt? “We have this... toddler relationship,” Kurt explains awkwardly. “Like in second grade, when you have this mean kid pretend to be better than you, so you start getting into all kinds of trouble to show him who's boss.”

Judging by Burt's alarmed expression, Kurt has said too much.

“I mean, he's okay! It's all fun and games, for now, but he's infuriatingly persistent.”

“Does he... you know... play for your team?” Burt makes a vague hand gesture towards Kurt.

“Dad, it doesn't matter, I'm not attracted to him,” Kurt lies. “If I were--”

“But you seem to be taking an interest.” Burt's tone is calm and matter-of-fact, like they're talking about the weather or news. “And sometimes annoying others is a way of getting their attention, or hiding feelings.”

Kurt ponders this, remembering Blaine's words from last night's party, dull and muffled by the haze of his hangover but still clear enough to understand.

I hate being rejected and it's this habit of mine to make sure everyone acknowledges me.

And suddenly Kurt knows exactly what to do.

-~-

Blaine's sitting, just like last time, alone in the empty locker room. Kurt hasn't seen him all morning since they only share about a third of their classes, but somehow he finds him and without hesitation strides up to the bench.

“Is this the only place we'll ever really get to talk?” Blaine sighs, fixed on the sport supplies in his lap.

“Well,” Kurt says sarcastically, “since whenever we're out there you're either belting a solo in my face or sucking on my tongue, yes, apparently this is the one place we can talk.”

“For the record, I didn't initiate the kiss last night.”

“Sure.” Kurt sits down next to him, enjoying how Blaine seems to scramble away at the proximity. “So, I have a proposal.”

Blaine looks unsure, but doesn't object.

“We'll repeat what we did last night without any alcohol, and after that you'll leave me alone because apparently you just want attention and you'll stop bothering me if I give you what you want, right?” he finishes in a rush, biting back a comment on how Blaine's behavior is similar to a fight-grader's. He'll save that one for later.

“I..,” Blaine stammers, seemingly confused. “That's not why I kissed you last night.”

“Then why did you kiss me?”

“Because I was drunk and the way the light hit you... it was a natural reflex, but I wasn't trying to get your attention or anything.”

Kurt bites his lip. Whoops.

“Waaaait.” Blaine smirks and drags the word out, making Kurt wish he hadn't said anything. “Are you still a virgin?”

“I--”

“You are! That's why you're suggesting this – you want to get laid!”

Kurt smacks a hand against his forehead and turns away. “Listen, we never talked about this--”

“You like me, Hummel, admit it.”

Kurt groans, resisting the urge to smack himself again. “No, in fact, I despise you.”

“We'll see about that.” But before Kurt can turn back and ask Blaine what he means, two hands are sliding down his waist and as his head swivels around a pair of lips meet his. He sinks into the kiss, closing his eyes and letting himself be whisked away into a world of pleasure. He drinks in the closeness, the warmth of Blaine's tongue tracing patterns across his sensitive lip.

And in a flash, they're lying on the bench.

Blaine is weaving between his legs, tangling limbs around him and squeezing his body against the wood. For a second, Kurt worries about the publicity of this place, but his mind is once again flying high with that enticing feeling of having someone rub up against him.

“Stop...,” he mutters and hooks his legs around Blaine's. “We shouldn't--”

“I thought this is what you wanted?” Blaine mumbles around Kurt's lips, making little grunting sounds as his movements become rougher. “Getting me in your pants with your sly virgin ways.”

“You're ruining the moment,” Kurt shoots back. “Naturally.”

“Quit being so patronizing!” Blaine hisses and clashes their lips together again. Somehow, the fury behind their words becomes a wave of passion and Blaine pushes down harder in the heat of the argument. Warmth pools below Kurt's belly and he thrusts up his hips, straining for attention.

In a way, Blaine is right. He is a virgin and ever since they kissed he's been craving more, but it's not like this is the only reason he's calling Blaine out.

He's intrigued by the boy and quite frankly, he's sick of all the emotions and talks getting in the way of relationships. He just wants a kiss and some rubbin', no cliché soulmating or all that sitcom romance crap.

Another wave of heat throws Kurt back into the present.

Blaine rolls his hips agonizingly slowly, pulling away from Kurt's mouth to grin at him. “I can be pretty dominant, just so you know.”

“Didn't seem like that yesterday,” Kurt replies, drunk with pleasure. “I mean I knocked you over and-- oh!” He throws back his head as Blaine sinks his teeth into Kurt's neck, fiercely nipping his way down to his collarbone.

“I--” Every word he starts ends in a moan and he barely pulls himself together enough to utter, “We should go to the changing stalls...” and Blaine thankfully complies, wordlessly slipping a hand around his butt to pull him off the bench. Hands in his ass-pockets, Blaine guides Kurt into one of the lockable stalls, slamming the door shut behind them as he continues to kiss a trail down Kurt's neck.

“What are we doing...,” Kurt mumbles desperately. He knows he shouldn't be doing this; his Dad will kill him and it's really not what he imagined his first time to be like, but he's so incredibly turned on and what's the point of living if you don't live a little? So he decides not to object as Blaine pushes him against the wall and then down on the bench. The changing room is small, but it's big enough for two people to effortlessly sit on the wooden board, and now that the door is locked Kurt has no worries and he finally lets himself go completely.

First Blaine pulls away his own shirt, then removes Kurt's, straddling his waist and grinding downward, moaning as their erections touch. At some point Kurt's eyes are actually rolling back and suddenly Blaine's hands are all over his body, touching and squeezing and scratching the pale skin. And Kurt loves it.

Blaine is hard against his thigh – Kurt can feel it oh so clearly – and without thinking Kurt unbuckles his own and then Blaine's belt, relishing the friction of loose denim against cock. But it's not enough – not yet. Slowly, they slide their pants and boxers down, eyes meeting as they undress completely and move back together in a fierce frenzy. Kurt can feel Blaine's exposed hardness against his own and the touch of sensitive, throbbing skin is so sudden, he feels like he's going to come right there.

Blaine grasps Kurt's hands and clasps them together above his head, keeping him captive while dragging his cock against Kurt's. Kurt throws back his head and exposes the naked skin of his neck which is soon met by Blaine's seeking lips and in the back of his mind Kurt knows Blaine will leave a mark, if only to embarrass him further the little prick.

But before Kurt can form a coherent thought and stop this madness, Blaine closes his mouth over one of Kurt's nipples and sucks it slowly, swirling his tongue around the tender pink flesh.

“Oh my GOD!” Kurt groans involuntarily, hands twitching helplessly beneath Blaine's hold.

“We'll regret this. You'll regret this,” Blaine says hoarsely while licking the skin below Kurt's nipple.

“I don't care, just seal the deal,” Kurt replies, sucking in some much-needed air.

Their tongues collide as Blaine continues to ride him into the bench, skin meeting skin in a series of slaps that would've sickened Kurt to the bone if it weren't for the heat cursing through his senses.

“I want you,” he breathes into Blaine's ear. “I don't care how much I hate your guts; I want you right now.”

Blaine's breath hitches and he snaps his hips forward.

And then the heat explodes, sears a fiery path through Kurt's veins and leaves him bucking up frantically. He throws back his head and groans at an embarrassing volume, eyes flickering shut. Blaine shivers and trembles above him; Kurt can hear the grinding of his teeth as he pushes through his orgasm without a sound.

Then the overwhelming sensation passes, fades away into the exhausted wheezing that fills the stall. Blaine laughs hollowly and collapses on top of Kurt. “Told you I was dominant,” he says, releasing Kurt's arms.

Kurt rubs them absently, trying not to think about what just happened and who's body is naked and sprawled on top of him.

“This complicates things,” he mutters, though the grumpiness doesn't quite reach his tone (he is still recovering from his orgasm after all.)

“No it doesn't.”

Blaine's face is turned to the side, ears pressed to Kurt's chest and the whole scene would probably be adorable if it weren't for the circumstances. Still, Kurt can't let that comment slide. “Why not?”

“Because we barely know each other and it's not like we're an item.” Blaine plants his forearms on Kurt's chest and props himself up, giving Kurt a stunning smile. “You were good, by the way.” He gives Kurt a complimenting pat on the shoulder and slides off, collecting his clothes and slipping out the door.

Kurt lies there, frozen.

What the fuck?