Kurt Hummel did not belong to Blaine Anderson, so it really didn’t make sense to him when a flare of jealousy pounded through his veins at the sight of Kurt holding Cameron’s hand oh-so-nonchalantly at their table.

Blaine reasoned with himself that he wasn’t jealous, he was merely upset. Kurt was supposed to be his best friend and he would have expected his best friend to tell him if he had started dating someone, especially if that someone was Cameron Porter.

Cameron had, well; he had a reputation, to put it mildly. He prided himself in debauching innocent young boys that came to Dalton and Blaine wouldn’t be surprised if Cameron expected to have sex with Kurt after dinner.

Blaine patiently waited through their entire dinner, serving them impeccably and never losing his gentlemanly fa�ade. He waited until Cameron would leave the table for the bathroom so he could rush over and warn Kurt, but he never did. The annoyingly handsome lacrosse player stayed seated for their entire dinner, reaching over to stroke Kurt’s hand every once in a while as a show of affection.

Based on the way Kurt leaned into the touch and the bright blush that colored the boy’s cheeks with each brush, he was already in Cameron’s clutches. The boy was smooth. Blaine had to give him that, even if he himself had managed to deflect the lacrosse player’s advances upon his arrival at Dalton. Blaine had been lucky enough to have been warned about Cameron’s reputation, knowledge Kurt should have had. Knowledge Kurt shouldn’t have had to put to use.

Blaine had really fucked up this time. He had already fucked up so bad with Valentine’s and it wasn’t even until after his conversation with Kurt that he realized that if he was being really honest with himself, Jeremiah isn’t who he wanted to serenade. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t seen it sooner, maybe because he was so focused on being the perfect mentor for Kurt that the fact that he had fallen in love with the boy had completely missed his radar.

He was in love with Kurt, that much he knew, but after what happened with Jeremiah, he really didn’t want to fuck things up with Kurt and he didn’t know what to do. Soon enough more time had passed than was reasonable for Blaine to make a move on Kurt and Blaine still hadn’t figured out what to do or how to win him over or win him back.

Blaine had also been sidetracked with his new job. Dalton was a difficult school to handle as it was, add on being a designated soloist for the Warblers and a part-time job and he barely had any free time left. Somehow word of the Gap fiasco had reached his parents and they were none too pleased that he had cost someone their job. They were even less pleased when they learned what song Blaine had used and the circumstances of the relationship—so displeased were they that they cut Blaine off.

They were still covering his tuition and room and board, but any additional expenses (like Blaine’s coffee addiction) were no longer to be funded by his parents. So, in order to continue his coffee dates with Kurt and to continue to fund their other ventures off campus, Blaine picked up a part-time job.

Blaine was surprisingly good at serving for never having previously worked a day in his life. He made a lot of good tips, namely because he was attractive and charming, and had an inexplicable talent at making any customer feel at home. It was all part of the fa�ade he put on every day at Dalton, so charming Breadstix patrons was a walk in the park.

That night, however, the fa�ade started slipping. He hadn’t made nearly as much in tips as he normally did, and he couldn’t blame his customers. After Kurt and Cameron’s arrival he messed up no less than six orders that had to be sent back. His concentration only worsened after the two boys left. Blaine’s mind wandered to what Kurt might be doing, he wondered if Kurt would sleep with Cameron. He liked to think that he knew Kurt well and that Kurt would never move that quickly with someone, especially after being attacked by Karofsky, but Kurt was as much of a teenage boy as Blaine was, and Blaine knew what kind of urges he might have.

It wasn’t until he brought the wrong order to someone for the third time in a row that his manager told him to go home and get some rest. Blaine gave the older woman a pained thank you before ducking out into the chilly spring evening.

Blaine was halfway to his car before he realized that there still might be time to give Kurt a warning about Cameron and his intentions. He flipped out his phone and typed out an urgent message before sending it off to Kurt.

Call me ASAP.

Blaine’s phone still hadn’t rung by the time he got home twenty minutes later and Blaine prayed that Kurt had just fallen asleep and wasn’t getting fucked by Cameron.

As he lay in bed that evening, Blaine’s worry twisted into want; the jealousy still pumping through his bloodstream only added fuel to the fire. Kurt was his. The rational side of his brain attempted to tell Blaine that this wasn’t the case, Kurt did not belong to Blaine, but Blaine pushed that thought away because that particular part of his brain also saw fit to keep Blaine in the dark about his true feelings for Kurt in the first place.

Kurt was his.

“Mine,” Blaine whispered to himself in the dark. His hand slid down his abdomen, rubbing gently over his growing erection.

Blaine conjured up an image of Kurt, Kurt the very picture of innocence with his large blue eyes, pink flushed cheeks, and that pretty mouth that Blaine couldn’t help staring at every opportunity he got.

He imagined kissing Kurt, pushing him roughly up against the wall and ravishing him until those pink lips were red from abuse and those crystal blue eyes were glazed over with lust.

Blaine’s hand slipped into his boxers, his fingers teasing the head of his now rock hard cock, before sliding down to grip himself firmly at the base, stroking himself languidly as the heat built up in his stomach.

Blaine went back to Kurt’s lips, still red from the onslaught of Blaine’s mouth and imagined how beautiful they’d look wrapped around Blaine’s erection. Kurt would be such a good little cockslut for him. That mouth just begged to be fucked and Blaine would give it to him.

Blaine’s hand flew up and down his now weeping cock as he imagined what it would feel like to shove his dick down Kurt’s throat and just make him take it. He pictured how beautiful Kurt would look with Blaine’s cock pumping in and out of his mouth, looking up at Blaine with those innocent eyes, pupils blown out with lust.

His breath hitched, half-formed moans punctuated by a ground out ‘Kurt’ and ‘mine’ as Blaine fucked his fist even harder still.

The image of pulling out of Kurt’s perfect mouth and coming all over his red, flushed face, Kurt sticking his wet, velvety tongue out to catch whatever he could tore Blaine’s orgasm out of him with one final howl of ‘mine’, ropes of cum splattered over his stomach and chest.

Blaine let his breathing go back to normal and his last thought before falling into a fitful sleep was that Kurt was his.