Ma’am stood up from behind her desk, picked some invisible lint off her blouse and beckoned for Kurt to follow behind. There was a door at the end of the main corridor, opposite the front door is it wasn't for the walls which got in the way. Kurt had always wondered what was concealed behind the few centimetres of wood which made up the door.

There were plenty of locked doors at Boondock. Many of them were clearly unused: the door knobs covered in dust, or even rusted. But this one was used frequently. He’d often seen Ma’am walking in and out, always locking the door behind her when she exited, to keep people out, or perhaps, to keep something in.

He was disappointed as Ma'am pulled the large ring of keys from her belt, put the appropriate one in lock and turned. As soon as the door was opened he was greeted with a set of steep wooden steps, leading down to the basement, (Boondock had a basement?) which creaked in abuse with each step he took.

“I should warn you now; our new guest is here because he violates Law #27. I shouldn’t have to remind you which particular subject that law covers.”

“No, Ma’am.” Of course Kurt knew. All 124 Laws (and counting) had been drilled into everyone’s minds during their civilian studies lessons.

“Now, class. You need to learn all of the Laws for when you are ready to go and work Outside. We shall start from the beginning. The first 10 Laws are based on the 10 commandments. These are the most important, and therefore the most punishable.”

Ms. Spencer was a nice lady, if a little patronising. She never punished anyone; not that anyone would dare misbehave in any lesson anyway. The Law which Ma’am had mentioned approached the subject of sexuality: what was wrong and what was right. All based on scriptures from the holy texts. That meant only one thing: this new student was gay.

“I believe you can set him on the… now what’s the phrase? Oh yes, on the straight and narrow.” She made a sound which sounded vaguely triumphant.

Kurt audibly swallowed as he continued to follow her slowly down the flight of stairs. Two things which will stop you from being taken away, another step down on the social pyramid, as Quinn says.

One: No displays or indications of romantic and/or sexual attraction to another student. Kurt knew that the two prefects who were on duty when he arrived at Boondock were somewhat romantically involved. It was one morning, just before roll call. Prefects woke up before the other students. He was going to the bathroom, just to get some water. No one would know if no one saw him. He overheard them talking, then. He pressed his ear against the door, in time to make out the ‘we shouldn’t be doing this’ and ‘no one will find out ’ just as he leaned a little too heavily against the wood, ended up falling flat on his face, and became acquainted with the bathroom tiles.

“If you tell anyone about this, you little faggot, I’m going straight to Ma’am and tell her all about you little cockmunching ways, alright?”

Two: Don’t be gay.

The basement wasn't small, but it had been sectioned off. The room in which Kurt was currently standing in was unfurnished apart from two worn, red leather chairs, facing each other with a low wooden coffee table between them. It would be pitch black if it wasn't for the single light bulb which hung from the ceiling.

“Please take a seat, and wait here.”

Kurt took a seat as Ma’am disappeared round the corner to another room. Just like the rest of the house, the basement was rather shabby. The wallpaper, obviously placed there years ago, had begun to peel away from the wall, revealing the mould and damp it previously concealed. The only other two rooms which Kurt could see had automatic shutters on them. The same as the ones used on the doors of the dormitory at night. It was cruel to keep a young boy locked up in a room like that, all by himself. They could at least have him roam the basement alone; there was nothing else down here, as far as Kurt could see.

He heard them approaching before he saw them, he raised his eyes from where they were trained to his hands. Ma’am reappeared, dragging the, apparently reluctant, new student by the collar of his navy-blue t-shirt, and Kurt stood on arrival.

He didn’t notice how old the boy actually was until he was standing in front of him. He must have been around Kurt’s age, although he was shorter by a few inches. The fluffy curls on the top of his head stuck out at every direction; as though he’d been repeatedly running his hands through his hair. He kept his eyes down, focusing on the firm grasp Ma’am had on his t-shirt.

“This is our new student, formally known as BDA. Mr. Hummel, you already know what your role is regarding Mr. A’s introduction here at Boondock. Please, take a seat and get acquainted. If you require my presence at anytime, do not hesitate to come and find me; I shall be in my office. I’ll be back in an hour.”

She let go of the stranger’s shirt and he grumbled something under his breath as he sat down, opposite to where Kurt was originally sat. Ma’am walked towards the staircase, as she did, she put her hand on Kurt’s shoulder and whispered, “Good luck.”

Kurt watched her disappear the way they came in, and listened as the steps creaked, the door was shut behind them, and the final click of the locked door was the only sound in the room.

This was it. There was no way out. It wasn’t as if Kurt was actually nervous. He spent all of his days with other people, but he couldn’t say he could ever remember being locked in a room with a total stranger and forced to talk before.

Kurt sighed and sat down again, back straight, hands folded in his lap, as he waited for the other boy to co-operate.

Clearly that wasn’t happening.

Kurt cleared his throat.

“What?” He looked up then, arms still folded over his chest, feet still on the coffee table. Now Kurt could see his face for the first time. His hair wasn’t long, but long enough so that his curly hair fell over his forehead, just above his eyebrows. As soon as he locked eyes with Kurt, the fear in his face seemed to subside a little. His honey coloured eyes meeting Kurt’s glasz ones. He was kind of the most beautiful thing Kurt had ever seen. No. Stop. If anyone found out they’d take you away: another step backwards. You’re taking a headfirst dive into the pool of never-return and there will be no one there to throw you a buoyancy aid.

“I… erm, we’re not supposed to exchange names, but I’m Kurt.” He held out his hand. Be polite. Names are a good place to start.

The new student ignored the offered handshake.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the prefect here? If you aren’t supposed to tell me your name, why did you?”

“I was just being polite…”

“Anyway, I know.”

“Know what?”Kurt asked.

“I saw your initials on your band: KEH. I guessed it was either Kurt or Kyle.” He shrugged. “It’s interesting that you spell it with a ‘K’, though. Are your parents German?” As soon as he realised the person standing in front of him wasn’t going to grab him by the shirt collar, the student became rather… self assured. Kurt knew he had the advantage power-wise, but in strength, this boy could easily overthrow him.

“I don’t know my parents.”

“You don’t have to lie to me; I already know your name.” The student chuckled and winked in Kurt’s direction. At least, he thought it was a wink. Okay, he was definitely not frightened anymore. Kurt felt the tips of his ears go red at the tips at the gesture.

“I suppose you think that’s funny?”

“Sort of.”

“You’re still avoiding the question…”

“And you’re avoiding the truth.” He replied.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean, Kurt.”

“I’m not lying. I don’t know them.”

“Fine. Okay, whatever you say.”

The boy was still eyeing him up and down like a fresh piece of meat. “And you need to stop that.”

“What?” He smirked and winked at Kurt again.

“That! That thing that you keep doing. You know it’s wrong, so stop it.” He folded his arms over his chest and suddenly the floor became very interesting. Oh, it’s tiled with dark red slabs, just like the bathroom. Fascinating.

“Fine. Whatever. Not that it matters to me, but apparently someone doesn’t seem to mind.” Kurt felt his cheeks flush again and tears swelling in his eyes. Stop crying, it makes you look like an idiot. Pull yourself together, Hummel.

He hated the boy already. He’d spent long enough fighting it, locking it away; convincing himself that these… feelings weren’t real. The still nameless stranger unfolded his arms and moved so he could see Kurt better, taking his feet off the coffee table and moving round it to crouch down next to Kurt’s chair.

“Hey, no, Kurt, please don’t cry.” He prised Kurt’s hands from his chest and held them in his own. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I just thought; well, if I was going to be stuck in here, I may as well find someone to share late-night hook ups with. Shit, no, that came out wrong. Oh, you’re laughing. Thank god, I thought I’d fucked it up before I even started.” He laughed nervously.

“Started what?” Kurt sniffed.

“I… don’t think I can tell you yet. This situation is really fucking weird for me as it is.” He chortled.

“You’re not supposed to do that either. You know, swear.” Kurt sniffed and laughed too.

“Oops. I’m not getting off to a very good start am I? I guess you’ll have to teach me the ropes, Mr. Hummel.” He looked up from where their hands where joined together, locking eyes with Kurt again. Kurt felt his breath catch in his throat. Definitely the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“One more thing, you can’t touch other people.”

“Oh, God. I’m really not doing too well, am I?”

“No, not really.” Kurt smiled as he lowered his eyes to look at their still intertwined hands. “But that does kind of mean you have to let go.” He raised his head to lock eyes with him again.

“What if I don’t want to?” Kurt kept looking at him. He didn't really know what to say. He’d never held hands with anyone, not only because he wasn’t allowed to, but he didn’t allow himself to.

Eventually the other boy stood up and Kurt let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“I’ve got to go. If I don’t get back to my room in time then my carriage will turn back into a pumpkin.” He laughed at his own joke, Kurt stared. “Cinderella? No? Okay. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” The student coughed awkwardly.

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

Kurt turned to leave, only making it up the first few stairs before someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around.

“Can we start over?” The boy was fidgeting with the bottom of this t-shirt.

“Sure.”

“I’m Blaine.” He stuck his hand out.

“Kurt,” he said, taking Blaine’s hand and shaking it, just like it should have been first time round.