Chapter 4

Kurt was over the moon. After fighting tooth and nail for almost a full year now and becoming head cheerleader, he had finally managed to convince Sue to not only perform lead in the routines as he has been, but to let him do the vocals as well, rather than just playing the original track. He had been so enthused when Sue had announced it that he had to excuse himself to go far away enough to be able to flail, squeal, and jump up and down excitedly like a child given a shiny new toy and a bowl of candy without being seen or heard by the Cheerios.

He was also glad that Sue had finally given in and let him adapt the uniform slightly to his taste. The main downside to being a Cheerio was, to Kurt, the ghastly polyester pants that were part of the standard-issue uniform. Last week, Coach Sylvester had—at last—given in to his desperate, relentless pleas and told him he could make his own for the next performance. Now, he wore pants that looked exactly like red skinny jeans to the untrained eye, even though he had made them from a fantastic, breathable, stretchy fabric that looked almost exactly like denim that he had discovered. He was almost inclined to give religion a try—because what could it be but a gift from God?—but ended up simply accepting the miracle and crafting the magic pants he now wore that made his ass look fantastic.

Now, he was waiting and positively buzzing with anticipation, knowing the music would start any minute now. He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for Figgins to wrap up his useless, monotone droning. He still didn't know how Sue had managed to get Principal Figgins to allow this song—knowing her, it was likely some form of blackmail—but he really didn't care. His snapped to attention, though, when he heard the principal's bumbling coming to a close.

"Now, to close out our assembly today, let us 'give it up' for the Cheerios."

Kurt heard the applause start and inhaled sharply as he heard it fade out and saw the lights go down in the auditorium and felt a sudden rush of fear, but quickly pushed it aside as the lights came up, channeling his nervous energy into his performance as he strutted to the front and center of the auditorium.

Na na na, come on

Na na na, come on

Na na na na na, come on

Na na na

Come on, come on, come on

Na na na na, come on

Na na na

Come on

Na na na na na, come on

Na na na

Come on, come on, come on

Na na na na

Blaine's jaw dropped as the music started and the lights came up, revealing a confident and impossibly sexy Kurt Hummel strutting to the front of the auditorium. Right in front of where Blaine was seated between his two closest friends, Tina and Sam, in the audience. He had known the Cheerios would perform, as they did for all school assemblies, and that Kurt would almost definitely be performing lead, so he had rushed to get the best seat possible, and was sure to sit down quickly to claim it. Once seated, Blaine fidgeted impatiently as he waited for the announcements to be over so the performance could begin. Tina and Sam had cast knowing glances at each other when he rushed off, smirking as they tagged along with him and made their way to sit on either side of him. Both had witnessed his hopeless swooning over the infamous Kurt Hummel, and occasionally teased him about it, but kept their mouths shut most of the time. He knew, though, that after this performance, their merciful silence would likely come to an end. He couldn't really blame them, though, because he knows his face is like an open book, and the content of said book is too blatant to ignore.

Feels so good being bad (Oh oh oh oh oh)

There's no way I'm turning back (Oh oh oh oh oh)

Now the pain is my pleasure 'cause nothing could measure (Oh whoa-oh-oh-oh)

Kurt's uniform, he noticed, was different from that of the very few other male Cheerios. The shirt was the same, but the pants. Blaine almost whimpered aloud at the sight of the pants. Kurt always wore skinny jeans when he got the chance, but seeing him perform in them was a whole new level of sexy. He didn't know how Kurt was able to dance in them, but fuck, did they look great. The red pants clung to his body snugly and put his perfect ass gloriously on display. Blaine watched, eyes wide and throat suddenly dry, as Kurt began to dance, barely noticing the elaborate routine of the Cheerios were executing behind him and barely hearing their small back-up vocals. His focus was solely on Kurt: on his gorgeous face, his glorious pants, his sensual movement, and his flawless voice.

Love is great, love is fine (Oh oh oh oh oh)

Out the box, outta line (Oh oh oh oh oh)

The affliction of the feeling leaves me wanting more (Oh whoa-oh-oh)

He felt Tina lift his chin, closing his mouth and felt a mixture of relief and intense embarrassment, but it was soon forgotten as the music picked up and Kurt's movements became even more suggestive.

'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it

Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it

Sticks and stones may break my bones

But chains and whips excite me

Kurt was loving every second of this performance. He was owning the song like he knew he would, and the entire auditorium full of students was silent, tension filling the air as they stared, agog (and, in some cases, visibly aroused) at the spectacle before them, completely captivated. The crowd was a blur, though, as Kurt was lost in the music. 

That is, he caught until a small movement directly in front of him out of the corner of his eye.

A girl—a pretty Asian girl who he almost didn't recognize since her hair was now brown with bangs, subtle highlights, and a gentle curl and she was clad in a simple, bright, classic-cut, cute dress, drastically different from the goth girl with straight black hair with blue streaks that he remembered from when he was in glee club—whose name he thought was Tina, if he remembered correctly, had moved to close the mouth of one adorable Blaine Anderson, who had apparently been gaping open-mouthed at Kurt for a good portion of his performance. Oh, he thought wryly to himself, realizing he could have fun with this. Isn't that cute? 

Kurt always felt powerful on stage, but the knowledge that he could make the oh-so-sweet-and-dapper Blaine speechless, gawking, helplessly and hopelessly captivated, that he had that power over Blaine, was thrilling in a new way. Might as well enjoy this while it lasts, Kurt thought, throwing himself even more into the performance as he began to direct some of his focus to where Blaine was seated and moved with a new energy and aggression, infused with the thrill and confidence of his newly discovered power.

'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it

Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it

Sticks and stones may break my bones

But chains and whips excite me

Na na na

Come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it

Come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it

Come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it

Come on, come on, come on

Kurt turned his sultry gaze to Blaine's face, noticing the hazel eyes before him darkening with lust and smirking. He liked this game. Seeing Blaine—Blaine, the boy who was always put together and perfect in every conceivable way—falling apart before him, because of him, was intoxicating and sent shivers down his spine.

Blaine couldn't breathe. Well, he could, but with great difficulty. He had been stupid to sit in the front. Truly, completely, irrevocably, totally, painfully, pathetically STUPID to sit in the front. He knew Kurt could see him falling apart, and was convinced that Kurt was getting some sort of sadistic pleasure out of watching him suffer and might even go so far as to say that Kurt was making attempts to further Blaine's undoing. Had he been more coherent, he would have made a joke about how Kurt's sadistic pleasure at Blaine's torture was fitting to the song he was performing, but he wasn't. Instead, he was having increasingly inappropriate thoughts about the man in front of him. His thoughts came to a halt, though, crashing jarring lay to the present, when Kurt turned and looked directly at him. He was trapped beneath Kurt's smoldering stare as helplessly as an animal caught in a hunter's snare.

Love is great, love is fine (Oh oh oh oh oh)

Out the box, outta line (Oh oh oh oh oh)

The affliction of the feeling leaves me wanting more (Oh whoa-oh-oh)

The way Kurt looked at him was almost predatory, and the way he moved was far beyond just "sexy." No, "sexy" simply didn't suffice. Kurt's movements were no less than obscene–almost pornographic—and became increasingly sensual as the song progressed and Kurt launched into the refrain.

'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it

Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it

Sticks and stones may break my bones

But chains and whips excite me

Blaine was sweating now—he wasn't sure if it was due to the temperature in the auditorium, his sweater vest, his nerves, or the pure heat of Kurt's gaze, but whatever it was, it was stifling. He felt heat pooling in his stomach and blushed as he felt himself beginning to get hard. Not now, he begged his own body not while he's looking right at me and oh dear god just let me fall into a hole and die. He tried to focus on breathing, on staying calm, on anything other than Kurt. He failed.

Kurt could see that Blaine was hot under the collar. Literally. He was flushed and sweaty and he was reaching to loosen his bow tie. Kurt couldn't help but notice how utterly debauched Blaine looked right now. His eyes were darkened with lust, his pupils were blown wide, his cheeks were flushed, his body was covered in sweat, and his mouth was slightly open, lips wet, despite Tina having shut it for him earlier. Kurt stayed in the performance, though, giving it his all while making sure to keep his eyes fixed on the beautiful image before him. 

Na na na

Come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it

Come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it

Come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it

Come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it

Kurt kept looking at Blaine, catching him as he closed his eyes, threw his head back, and bit his lip, and almost broke character to climb in Blaine's lap so they could fuck right then and there but didn't because that would be insane oh my god what the hell is he even doing to me. Channeling his desire into his performance, Kurt soldiered on.

S-S-S & M-M-M

S-S-S & M-M-M

Blaine had given up now. He was fully hard and he felt as if he was going to burst with sexual frustration. Unable to take the stifling heat, he untied his bow tie, leaving it hanging around his neck as he moved to unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt. Much better. He may be desperately turned on, but at least he wouldn't die of a heat stroke. He still might die though—slain by Kurt's overwhelming sexiness. As the bridge began, Kurt was lifted by the rest of the Cheerios, whose hands ran over his stretched out body suggestively as Kurt sang with a face of pure pleasure.

Oh, I love the feeling you bring to me, oh, you turn me on

[Yes, Blaine thought. Yes you do.]

It's exactly what I've been yearning for, give it to me strong

One of the Cheerios had nudged Kurt's shirt and Blaine made a pathetic, strangled sound at the sight of the small, but glorious bit of uncovered skin, longing to touch. Oh, how I wish I could, Blaine's brain continued as he tried to suppress a whimper. Kurt was now placed gently back on his feet and the spotlight shone on him as he slinkily walked forward, singing the next line.

And meet me in my boudoir, make my body say ah ah ah

Kurt's face was a picture of total, filthy, orgasmic ecstasy as he sharply punctuated each "ah" with a thrust of his hips and Blaine couldn't help but wonder if this was what Kurt actually looked like when he came. Blaine wanted very much to find out. Kurt now dropped to his knees and fuck, Kurt really must be trying to kill him. Blaine watched hungrily as the sex god on his knees in front of him lowered himself to all fours, throwing his head back to face the audience (to face Blaine) with a coy smile and sang.

I like it, like it

Just as Blaine began to think he could never possibly be more painfully hard, Kurt began to actually crawl toward the audience (toward Blaine), looking directly into Blaine's eyes, and Blaine knew he was wrong.

Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it

Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it

Sticks and stones may break my bones

But chains and whips excite me

This was definitely fun for Kurt, thrilling in a way he couldn't explain. Kurt had seen Blaine fall apart more and more throughout the song—sweating and blushing and fidgeting and loosening his bow tie and unbuttoning his shirt—but only noticed while he was crawling that Blaine was hard. Like, fully hard. And he felt sexier than ever because he, Kurt Hummel, knew he was the reason Blaine was so shamelessly turned on. The bulge in Blaine's pants was obvious and prominent and just...well, rather impressive. Kurt moaned into his words as he stood to perform the final chorus.

Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it

Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it

Sticks and stones may break my bones

But chains and whips excite me

Kurt continued to hit every note perfectly and flawlessly execute each and every one of the tricky pieces of choreography, but could see that Blaine was so wrecked probably wouldn't even be able to stand up straight. For the grand finale, Kurt and the Cheerios launched into an elaborate acrobatic routine. An acrobatic routine involving whips. An acrobatic number in which chains were heavily utilized. Kurt saw Blaine move his hand toward his crotch, then withdraw it quickly in favor of shoving them under his thighs. He looked like he was about to come in his pants without even being touched. 

Na na na

Come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it

Come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it

Come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it

Come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it

S-S-S & M-M-M

S-S-S & M-M-M

S-S-S & M-M-M

The number ended to a standing ovation and thunderous applause, but Kurt's focus was on the disheveled boy who had gotten up and bolted for the door the second the first clap resounded through the auditorium. Kurt grinned to himself, victoriously. 

He may irk me, Kurt thought as he basked in the applause, but he is fun to play with.