Despite the fact that a most certain death awaits him in the auditorium that afternoon, Kurt finds himself saying goodbye to his friends and instead of going out to his car walks in the direction of the big room. It is dark and empty when he arrives, and as he walks down the aisle he tells himself he is only there to ask Blaine to back off, once and for all. But as he climbs the stage he can’t get rid of the dreams that have haunted him, the short conversations he has had with the boy, his comments. But neither can he forget what Puck has told him or the way he looked when he said it. It isn’t normal for Puck to be like that, not at all, and it scares him more than he likes to admit. And the rumors, the rumors which are still going around and gets worse by each passing day.

“Hummel.”

His chest clenches tight and his stomach flips at the sound of the voice, a feeling he has already begun to associate with Blaine’s presence.

“I didn’t plan to come.”, he says and turns around. And there he is, Blaine, coming out of the shadows.

“But you did.”

“Yes.”, Kurt admits.

“Like I knew you would.” The smirk is there, of course.

“Are you always this cocky?”, Kurt asks with a glare.

“Yeah.”, he says, and he is closing in now so Kurt begins backing away.

“Well, I’m here to tell you to back off.”, Kurt spits out, but there is the piano and Kurt can’t really back away any more. He is trapped, and Blaine could have a knife hidden behind his back or in that leather jacket or-

But Blaine puts his arms on either side of Kurt and now he is trapped for real, he can’t go anywhere. His face is so close and his breath is so warm against Kurt’s face.

“What do you want?”, Kurt whispers.

“You.”, he answers. “Haven’t you figured that out? I want you.”

And then Blaine’s lips is on Kurt’s; sucking, tracing them with his tongue to gain access. And Kurt doesn’t know why, but his lips part and Blaine tastes like cigarettes and mints and he smells like leather and smoke and something dark, something extremely masculine which makes Kurt shiver. And Kurt doesn’t know how, but the leather jacket is off and Kurt’s hands are in Blaine’s hair and Blaine presses closer, pins him to the piano.

And then it is over, just like that. Blaine takes a few steps back and leaves Kurt panting and craving for his touch, confused over what has just happened. His head is spinning, spinning out of control, and he tries to grasp something, whatever he can catch.

“People say you killed someone.”

The words are out before Kurt can stop them and he really, really, wishes he could take them back, but it is too late. The look on Blaine is not what he expects to see though. Instead of anger there is something hurt in his eyes, something broken. And the cockiness is gone, replaced with something which makes his shoulders slump and his face look more tired than any face Kurt has ever seen before. And then the other boy turns around and he walks away and Kurt’s legs won’t work, because oh god, Blaine Anderson just kissed him, and even though he calls Blaine’s name after him, there is no answer.

That night Kurt can’t stop tremble in his bed. The image of Blaine’s pain-streaked face is impossible to shake off. The dreams turn to nightmares, but when he wakes up he is not afraid, he is worried. Worried for the sake of a boy he doesn’t know, a boy he should be afraid of, but somehow has managed to possess him in a way that in itself should be frightening.