"Blaine?" Kurt called out tentatively, holding his bag close to his hip. It was Wednesday night: he was in the school gym, where Blaine had reminded him that day at practice to be in by 8:30 sharp, and he was just a few minutes early. The day seemed to rush past him, and now it was time for what he dreaded the most. It didn't help that Coach has worked them hard at practice after school, considering that the first football game was that Saturday. He also had Glee again the next day, and Santana had passed on the message that the Cheerio spies were to meet in front of the choir room ten minutes before to go through what they were going to do. Kurt wasn't sure if he was least excited for that or the pending practice with Blaine.

After a moment of utter quiet, Kurt assumed that he was either in the locker room getting changed or hadn't gotten there quite yet, so he decided to take the extra time to stretch.Might as well prepare myself for hell. Stretching had quickly become his favorite part of practice, since it was the least rigorous part, and was somewhat calming. He walked into the center of the gym and sat himself down on the smooth, cool floor and spread his legs into a straddle, leaning over to the right. He held for some time, and then moved to the left, held, and finally walked his hands out into the middle as far as possible, feeling a semi-painful yet effective stretch in his groin. Suddenly, he felt a hand pressing on his back: he bit his lip to stop himself from gasping in surprise. It stayed there for a second, the palm solid against his spine, the fingers spread across his back like petals stemming from a flower, and then gently pushed him forward, farther than Kurt had ever been able to go before—his muscles felt as if they were tearing apart. His nose was nearing the ground; he let out a small groan as the hand pressed even harder, and Kurt immediately felt his cheeks flare in embarrassment. The hand then began to alleviate its pressure until Kurt was sitting up straight.

"Wow, you're flexible, Porcelain," Blaine came into view, sitting himself across from Kurt and positioning his own legs so he was in a straddle as well, "I didn't expect you to even be able to touch your toes," Blaine began leaning to the right; Kurt quickly diverted his gaze from the boy's now-visible torso, since his uniform had hitched up from performing the stretch. Without looking at Blaine, Kurt crossed his right leg over his left and turned to the left, pushing against his knee-the burning sensation had moved to his right IT band on the outside of his thigh, a particularly sore spot. Kurt gritted his teeth as he completed the stretch on both sides and then lied down on his back to do his hamstrings. He was pleased that he was able to ignore Blaine for so long, and even more relieved that Blaine was silent. The only sounds in the room were their breathing patterns as they stretched their muscles. It was strange, knowing that it was just the two of them alone, and it made Kurt feel a bit uncomfortable.

Kurt nearly jumped as he felt the hand on him again; he didn't see Blaine return because his eyes were closed. It was sitting on his upper shin (of course he'd found a fresh bruise from practice), pushing his knee even closer to his chest. While it was helping him, Kurt was getting a little confused. Blaine never touched him; why would he openly touch him? Kurt could stretch by himself.

"Why are you doing this? Shouldn't you be stretching yourself?" At that, Blaine grabbed Kurt's other knee; Kurt shuddered as Blaine grazed his other upper thigh with his hand as he reached to straighten the other leg out-on accident? Regardless, Blaine pressed with more fervor.

"You're the one who's going to be practicing, not me," Blaine snapped quickly, and released his leg, signaling with his hands for Kurt to lie on his stomach. He reluctantly did so, and cringed as his cheek brushed the dirty ground. Blaine then bent his right leg back; his quad burned as his foot neared his butt. Finally, something landed on it-at first Kurt believed he'd actually bent his leg back that far, but it didn't feel like a foot...

Blaine Anderson is touching my butt. Correction: Blaine Anderson ismassagingmy butt.

"Oh my God!" Kurt flipped on his back uncouthly and stared up at Blaine in disbelief as the boy quickly climbed on his hands and knees on either side of Kurt. Thin hazel rings encircled the large, deep holes that were the pupils of his sultry gaze; Kurt had never seen Blaine like this. He wasn't smiling; there was a hint of desperation playing on his parted lips. The blaze in his eyes was almost primitive. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Kurt didn't know what else to say or do. He was shaking with anger, yet still felt numb at the same time. Blaine had gone from despising Kurt's guts tothis. What had caused this transformation, Kurt had no idea, but he had the feeling he was about to find out.

"The things you do to me, Hummel," Blaine replied huskily, and moved his knees in so they were touching Kurt's thighs, making an unfamiliar feeling lurch in his core. Blaine was close enough so Kurt could catch a whiff of the fruity, pungent gum he was chewing. Kurt was uncomfortable with how close Blaine was, and how he was looking at and touching him...Kurt shifted a little, and Blaine closed his hand over one of Kurt's wrists.Oh God. This isnothappening.Kurt wildly shifted his gaze around the room, trying to look at anything but Blaine's eyes, but found that they drew him in like magnets.

"C'mon, why don't we forget about practice," He continued under his breath, his lips grazing Kurt's ear. Kurt felt a wave of chills travel down his spine completely unrelated to the fact that it was cold in the gym. His free hand trailed down Kurt's chest as Blaine leaned even closer to him, closer than anyone else had ever been before, when Kurt finally came to his senses.

"No! I don't-we're not-I won't let you use me like that," Kurt said adamantly, and scooted away from Blaine, finally freeing himself from his iron grip. He stood up, looking down upon Blaine's shocked, crouched figure. "What the hell is your problem?" Kurt queried, finally finding stability in his voice and thoughts. His question echoed throughout the empty room. Blaine had gotten to his feet and was staring at the floor, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. He then looked up at Kurt, his eyes dark and obscured by his furrowed eyebrows. It was such an intense expression that Kurt had to stare at the floor.

"Do you know why," he started shakily, a strange, strangled emotion in his voice, "I've been trying to ignore you? Why I'm so mean to you? Why I requested to do this training with you? Yes, it was my idea, not Coach's. She doesn't give two damns about you, really." Kurt opened his mouth to interject, but saw that Blaine was sincere in this admission that he was the one who suggested starting the extra practices. "Because I know that you're good. Because I want you to stay on the Cheerios, and be in Glee club, but I can't stand to be so close to you. Because, fuck, you make me feel things I'm not supposed to feel," he spat furiously, running his fingers through his now-frizzy, untamed curls, since he keep gripping them. It looked as if he was actually in pain. "I can't stop thinking about you; it's notfair! Why are you so damn irresistible, Kurt?" His eyes bored into Kurt's, pleading for an answer. "I'm the fucking captain of the Cheerios, I can't be staying up all night thinking of a-a freshman like you! I can't—Jesus, that song I sang yesterday? I was thinking about you. That song wasforyou. I practiced so much, envisioning you every. Fucking. Time.

"But I can't help it, with how nice you are, how beautiful your voice is, how damn sexy your ass looks in that uniform-" he growled the last bit, and Kurt felt something catch in his throat. "Christ, Hummel,why?"

Kurt was stunned into silence for a minute, and finally found his voice. He was angry—he couldn't remember the last time he was this enraged. "I know: you have that little boy type of thing, where you treat your crush badly even though you l-like him," Kurt stuttered the last bit, realizing what he was implying. He could hardly piece together his thoughts. Blainelikedhim, that's why he hated him so. Blaine didn't seem the least bit affected by what Kurt just said, so he decided to take it a step further. He wanted to hurt Blaine, just as he had been hurt by him. He need to explain that he had actual feelings-and none for Blaine. "Anyway, you've just taken it to a whole new level of douchebaggery, since you just...came onto me. That's so low. It doesn't matter that I ma-you feel this way, you've always been a jerk. You're no better than someone who hates me. I will be treated like a person, not a toy for you to play around with."

Blaine shook his head, laughing a little. His eyes traveled over Kurt's heaving figure obscenely, making Kurt feel like he was under the lens of a dirty microscope. "Damn, you're hot when you're pissed, Hummel. I'm sure you'd be good with that in bed." Kurt blushed at Blaine's lewd comments. He never thought he'd discuss these things with Blaine, and he never wanted to. "My offer still stands, you know," Blaine began to advance towards Kurt again, but Kurt shook his head and crossed his arms. Just a week ago, he'd be very open to the idea, but now, there was no way.

"What is wrong with you today?! I told you, I'm not a fucking object for you to-for you to ogle at or fondle all the time!" While he wasn't proud of his churlish tone and the ridiculous amount of curses he was spewing, Kurt found there was no other way to get his animosity across.

"Jesus, Kurt, if you want to be a cock-blocker, then let's practice. I don't understand why you don't want to get some from me, but that's your stupid choice. All right, get going, and we'll take it from the top of the routine for half-time. That's what Coach wanted you to work on, since you're still struggling with that back-handspring. It's admirable that you were able to do it so quickly, but it's sloppy, so that doesn't matter. You also tend to fall behind, so work on listening to the beat of the music.

"I'm going to give you a rougher workout than what you'd get if I fucked you, so trust me, you're not going to be able to walk afterwards. Go on, take your place."

Although he was not keen on practicing that much, especially after what had just taken place, Kurt was relieved that Blaine had finally gotten his act together...somewhat. Kurt was shaking slightly as he took his place, which was the most he could to suppress the wide range of emotions he was feeling at that moment. Anger, confusion...a little curiosity?

Just channel it all, use the energy, Kurt thought. He needed to prove to Blaine that he didn't need to do these practices anymore. If Blaine was going to be this horny every week, Kurt wouldn't be able to take it. He was hardly able to deal with that one episode. Maybe if he didn't do too badly, Blaine would change his mind...

They ran through the routine a hundred times, with Kurt making a handful of mistakes here and there, much to his dismay. Blaine simply corrected him from afar in the stands, but wasn't rude in doing so. He told Kurt what to do, and Kurt did it. It was very awkward: Kurt could practically hear Blaine judging him, even though he didn't explicitly or implicitly say anything. Kurt tried to concentrate only on what to do, but Blaine's admission had him all out of sorts-it was the worst when he'd recall the feeling of Blaine's knees against his thighs, or the smell of that damn orange gum. That was when he made the most mistakes. It wasn't very often, though, so for the most part, Kurt did very well. The one problem he did have, though, was that Blaine was still looking at him like an object: this time, however, it seemed that he saw Kurt as a machine rather than a boy to objectify. Kurt rarely got water breaks, and while he worked like a horse, Blaine scrutinized his every wrong move.

Soon enough, Blaine called for him to stop. It felt as if he'd been practicing in that gym for days. He was sick of that damn song that they were performing with at half-time; if he had to hear it one more time Kurt was sure his ears would fall off.

"All right, we've got to get going. It's after 11; Coach said we needed to be out by quarter after at the latest. Is your ride here?" Blaine snapped his gum as he climbed down the stands, walking towards Kurt. Kurt got up from the split he was in, panting a little since he had just finished a tough sequence. Blaine had almost fulfilled his promise: Kurt was exhausted. His legs were rather wobbly, but he was able to walk. He did not want to think about the alternative that Blaine said would make him feel the same way.

"No, I didn't know exactly when we'd get out, so I said that I'd call." He didn't want Burt to waste his time waiting in the parking lot when he could be watching that football game he had missed the other day—Burt got in a very bad mood when he missed a game.

"Shit. Okay, I'm going to have to give you a ride home. Get your stuff," Blaine said, picking up his own bag and scavenging it for his keys. Kurt stopped in his tracks.

"No no no, not after what happened tonight," Kurt replied, shaking his head.There is no way I'm going to be that close to him in an enclosed space, he thought.

"A night-shift janitor is going to be here soon; the deal was that we get out of here before 11:15, as I said before," Blaine said hurriedly. "C'mon, Porcelain, let's get out of here." He began to speed-walk towards the door.

"Can't you just call me by my name? I'm sick of this 'Porcelain' and 'Lady' business." Kurt huffed as he caught up with the boy, frustrated that he had no choice but to follow him.

"I did, more than enough times, but it did nothing to change your opinion about me, did it,Kurt," Blaine sneered, opening the door. A cold blast of air welcomed them. Kurt followed him outside into the dark night after Blaine shut the door behind them, taking out a set of keys that Kurt assumed belonged to Coach, since there was on a chain attached to a silver tag with "Sue Sylvester: National Champion" engraved on it. Blaine locked the door and began to walk towards the lone Pathfinder in the parking lot in front of them: Kurt trailed behind him.

The walk to the car was silent. Kurt didn't dare say a word, since Blaine seemed to be dangerously close to falling victim to a fit of rage. Kurt himself was furious.Why can't he just act like a normal person with a crush, he fumed,although I can't see how anyone can like me in that way. I never thought it would happen so soon, or that a person likeBlainewould like me. Kurt immediately chastised himself for the way he enunciated Blaine's name as if he was back to the day he first met Blaine and didn't know how much of an asshole he was. He was so different then, so much...calmer.

Still, how can helikeme?Kurt couldn't help but wonder. It was simultaneously flattering and intimidating that someone could think of him that way, staying up all night...Someone namedBlainecould...Fuck, I did it again.

"Are you going to get in or what?" Blaine asked impatiently. Kurt snapped his head up, since he'd been staring at the ground: he found himself standing in front of the car that Blaine was already half-in.

"I'd like to go in the backseat, because frankly I'm uncomfortable with sitting up next to you,"I will not be bullied, he thought boldly as he opened the back door on the passenger side. Kurt threw his bag in first and then took a seat on the leather padding, feeling a bit childish as he crossed his arms.

"If you insist," Blaine replied mockingly, and tossed his own bag in the passenger seat. He got into the driver's seat and stuck the keys in the ignition. "Do you need me to buckle you in, too?" Kurt could see Blaine's smirk though the rear view mirror.God, I hate him. He was acting more like a child than Kurt.

Kurt had lost all of his patience. "Why are you such a dick?" He retorted, watching the school disappear as Blaine finally drove away. He wished that he lived closer so he could just walk home and not have to deal with this abuse. He wished that he was a year older so he could drive himself. He just wished that Blaine didn't exist.

"Well, they say you are what you eat," Blaine's grin grew even wider.

"You disgust me," Kurt spat, absolutely revolted at Blaine's crude suggestion. There was, however, a tiny image in the back of Kurt's mind trying to envision Blaine in front of him-

"Kurt, did you hear me? I said I forgot to ask you where you live," Blaine's voice cut through Kurt's thoughts, which he was actually quite thankful for. The difference between Kurt's objectifications and Blaine's was that Kurt kept it to himself and didn't advertise it, and that Kurt loathed them with every fiber within his being.Why does he do this to me? Why do I do this to myself?

"Um, 21 Pine Way," Kurt answered quickly, his face burning as he tried to smother his buzzing mind. Blaine nodded and continued to drive; Kurt assumed that he knew where he was going.

They rode in silence. Kurt wished that Blaine would put some music on or do something to alleviate the heaviness of the utter quiet in the car. He took out his phone to occupy himself, just to see if Burt had called, since his phone was on silent. Unsurprisingly, he had three missed calls from his dad; they were all from a few minutes prior. Kurt decided against calling him, because they were nearing his house.

"Turn here," Kurt's high voice cut through the silence, "it's quicker." He was only helping Blaine so he could get out of his car and away from him as fast as possible. He also realized he was about to pass out, since his eyelids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds.

"Thanks," Blaine said gruffly, and he obliged. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that Kurt was sure his knuckles would burst out of his skin. Kurt wondered why Blaine seemed so uncomfortable, but his question was soon answered.

"Kurt," he said the name carefully, as if he was caressing the single syllable with his tongue, reluctant to let the delicate thing go in fear that it'd shatter in the air, "do you have any idea what you do to me?" His voice was unstable; Kurt was amazed at how similar the statement sounded to his thoughts.

"Well, you said my ass had something to do with it," he replied flatly, his answer contrasting his myriad of thoughts generated by the question. Blaine chuckled lightly.

"Yeah, a bit," he replied, "but...Kurt, you're just so good, and perfect, and so damn pure and innocent. Sometimes I can't decide if I want to uphold your chastity or corrupt you so badly that you can't walk straight for days."

Kurt was at a loss for words. All he could muster was "It-It's the third on the right" as Blaine turned onto Pine Way. Blaine seemed so serious in that laden statement.

Finally, he pulled into Kurt's driveway: Burt was standing outside the front door in his bathrobe. Mortified, Kurt gathered his things and burst out of the car like a bat out of hell the second Blaine put it in park. He watched in silent horror as Burt rushed over to the car, waving his hands to get Blaine's attention. Kurt could see the amused expression on Blaine's face as he rolled down the window.

"Yes, Mr. Hummel?" Kurt could hear his sycophantic voice from where he was standing by the front door, frozen with embarrassment.

"Hello, are you a friend of Kurt's? Thanks for giving him a ride," Burt panted, still out of breath from his run. Blaine seemed disappointed that Burt didn't know his name.

"Yes, my name is Blaine,"You're not my friend, Kurt seethed. "I'm the captain of the Cheerios; we were just working on his routine."It didn't start out like that!"He's pretty good, but he needs to really improve if he wants to go to Nationals. Now that he's in Glee club, he needs to do this extra practice in order to make up for the days he'll miss. Is that okay?"Please say no, please say no...

Burt took a second to reply. "Yes, I understand. That sounds fine, Blaine. But on one condition, though." Blaine leaned over, his arm splayed on the car door. "You have to take him home afterwards, just like tonight. I want a call from Kurt once you two finish up, and I expect him home by 11:15 at the absolute latest. My son needs his sleep, and time to do his moisturizing regimen, alright?" Kurt's entire being lit up in flames as Blaine sent him a questioning look at "moisturizing regimen."

"I want you to do whatever it takes to win, but I don't want him to get beat up too much, you hear?"

"Of course, Mr. Hummel. Is that all?" Kurt never wanted to slap Blaine more than in that very moment. He was so damn pretentious; Kurt could practically see his pompous aura.

"Yep. Thanks again for driving him. Wait, why don't I give you his phone number so you two can keep in touch about this arrangement."No, no, no, no, NO!Kurt nearly screamed.

"That's a great idea; let me get my phone." Kurt did not like the eager look on Blaine's face as they exchanged phone numbers. He did not even want to think about looking at his phone ever again: he was sure any messages he'd receive would not be related to practice: they'd probably be more along the lines of what Santana had showed him the week before.

"And hey, if you ever have any problems with your car, I can fix it up in my shop." Burt added as they finished. Kurt hated how generous his father was.

"Sounds great! Thank you, Mr. Hummel, it was so nice to meet you. Bye, Kurt," Blaine waved at the fuming boy with a large smile on his face; Kurt fought the urge to flip him off. He turned and stormed into the house as the car backed away, glad to finally be rid of Blaine.

"He seems like a decent guy, don't you think?" Burt asked as he walked in the house after Kurt, who had just taken out his half-empty water bottle from his bag.

"No-" for a second, Kurt felt like divulging how much of an asshole Blaine was, but then decided not to. Burt would not let him stay on the Cheerios if he knew what had happened, and frankly he didn't want to stress his father out.

"He's okay. I don't know him that well-yet. He's also in Glee."

"Good for him. I'm glad that you're making new friends." He clapped Kurt of the shoulder. "Geez, he must have the cheer squad all over him."

Kurt turned away and walked towards the sink to empty his water, hoping that Burt didn't see the rosy flush staining his cheeks. He realized that he didn't ask Blaine about the whole Brittany debacle; in fact, he'd completely forgotten about it. He remembered seeing them smushed up against his locker, Blaine's eyes landing on his when he surfaced for air—

Oh my God. How did I not see it?

"Nah, he doesn't want to complicate his relationship with them." The irony of the statement nearly killed Kurt. The revelation he had just made punched him in the stomach like a robust fist: Blaine wanted to make Kurtjealous.

"Oh. Does he have a girlfriend?" Burt inquired, and Kurt accidentally dropped the bottle he was now cleaning in the sink; it clattered loudly against the other dishes.

Not exactly."Not that I know of," Kurt answered vaguely. "Why are we talking about this? You know this isn't exactly my department."

"I know. However..." Burt's voice trailed away, and Kurt knew something was up.

"What?"

"On Friday, we're going to Breadstix so you can meet my girlfriend." Burt stated, and prepared himself for Kurt's response.

"What!? You have a girlfriend?" Kurt exploded. Evidently, he wasn't the only one keeping secrets. There were a thousand questions he wanted to ask, but Burt held up his hands in defeat.

"Yep. We haven't been dating for that long, don't worry. You kind of know her, too...I'm tired, so we'll discuss this more later. I want you to get to bed as soon as possible, okay?"

"Yes, Dad. I'm not going to let this go," he called to Burt's retreating figure. His body was racked with fatigue, but his mind like New York City, blazing with lights and sound andlife.

Sleep continued to elude Kurt a few hours later as he lay in his bed, watching the minutes and hours tick by on his alarm clock. His mind had finally shut up, and his body was pretty much dead, but he simply could not fall asleep. Sometimes he'd still feel the ghost of Blaine's knees against his legs, the touch of his hands on his thighs, his butt, his chest...he wasn't sure if he liked it or not. It just felt...weird.

He needed to do something about the whole Blaine situation, and figure out a way to not have to do those extra practices. It actually scared him, thinking that Blaine could work him so hard that he literally could not walk and then take advantage of him. It seemed that Kurt's words fueled him, that his negative reactions just made Blaine lust for him even more.

What if I just ignore him?The thought popped up in Kurt's mind out of nowhere.Maybe if I don't talk to him, he'll stop annoying me. I'll become boring and he'll give it up.

It wasn't an intricate plan, but it seemed like it was worth a shot to Kurt. Imagining Blaine leaving him alone made Kurt feel a little better. It even made his mattress seem more comfortable, and the darkness of his room seem even blacker...