Kurt leaned against Quinn's locker, clutching his books to his chest and laughing at her jokes about Coach Sylvester. The atmosphere of the school was glorious; it was a Friday, they had a short schedule for the pep-rally, and on top of all of that, he was going to get to cheer at the game tonight. It was before first period, so people were still coming in the door and bringing in the cold morning air with them. Kurt shivered a little; it was unusually cold for August. Goosebumps rose on his skin and he shivered again. Just then Blaine swooped in, kissing Quinn's cheek. He was wearing a jersey.

Which meant he played football.

Which meant tonight, Kurt would be cheering for him.

Kurt was immediately more nervous, staring at the floor and avoiding eye contact.

"Hey, Fabray. Kurt," Blaine said, smirking at Kurt before offering his varsity jacket to the now noticeably-shivering boy.

Kurt shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, but once people stop coming in it'll get warmer. I appreciate it, though." Kurt chanced him a smile. Blaine just nodded, slipping the jacket back onto his own body.

"Fair enough. See you on the front lines, gorgeous." He winked and walked away.

Kurt took a moment to notice that there was more than one sport on the back of his jacket. Football and basketball. Which meant two cheer seasons that he would be cheering for Blaine. "Who'd he call gorgeous?" Kurt leaned in, trying to keep his voice low. "Both of you." Blaine answered without turning around and kept walking down the hallway. Quinn just laughed when Kurt's face turned red. He was starting to get used to blushing every time that boy walked by.

Kurt was stretching outside of the gym for the pep rally. He had a lead in the singing portion, but he also hadn't really performed in months. His flexibility wasn't what it used to be.

"Hello, beautiful."

Kurt turned around to see Blaine standing there. He was wearing his jersey, with Quinn's button pinned to the meshy fabric. He was clad in dark-wash, straight leg jeans, and sneakers. His hair was messier than usual, but he just looked..

Gorgeous. Of course.

Kurt could tell he was one of those people who could wear a potato sack and still look stunning. It was nauseating.

"Hi, Blaine."

Blaine smiled crookedly as he moved closer. Kurt didn't want to like him, but he could feel himself starting to, if all the blushing and those butterflies he got whenever Blaine was around were indicators. But Kurt was smart. He knew Blaine's type, and he wasn't about to let himself get hurt falling for the football star.

"So, are you preforming in there?" Kurt nodded, straightening out his uniform.

"I'm looking forward to it," Blaine murmured, his voice like velvet.

"T-thanks," Kurt stuttered, mentally cursing himself for not playing it cool. "Anytime, sweetheart." With that, Blaine left him, strolling back into the gym. Kurt stared after his retreating figure, his heart beating quickly in his chest.

Kurt regained his composure before walking into the extremely loud gym. People were tossing a beach ball through the audience. It took a minute for him to find Quinn, who was motioning for him to join the huddle that the squad had formed. He hustled over, seeing Blaine sliding through the bleachers to his friends. Kurt glanced down, not wanting to make eye contact after their hallway encounter.

The principal walked to the center of the gym, tapping the microphone. The crowd silenced, eyes directed to the short man in front. He gave a small introduction, including the name of the song the Cheerios would be performing. Kurt hadn't even heard of the song Guilty Pleasure or Cobra Starship before, but it was easily one of his favorites now.

The principal motioned Quinn forward and the crowd clapped as she bounded forward to the microphone.

After a quick encouraging word as head cheerleader, Quinn passed the microphone to Blaine. The air in the auditorium loosened quickly, becoming light and casual with Blaine's presence.

"What's up, McKinley?" he said into the microphone, pointing it now at the crowd to intensify their already-loud cheers.

He waited for the screaming to die down before continuing.

"So, it's the first game of the year. Obviously, everyone's a little nervous, some of you probably need to go to the bathroom or something-" a few members of the audience tittered"-and you're probably thinking about how there's no way in hell we're winning against the Sharks today."

Kurt stiffened visibly behind Blaine, and even a few members of the team glanced nervously at each other before returning their attention to their captain.

"I'm here to tell you that after four months of hard work and intense training, we're ready to take them down. Today, we'll be busting our asses to make sure that every drop of sweat, every aching muscle, every salty tear was worth it. Today, the Titans go down as this season's victors!"

The crowd roared and the athletes relaxed, visibly reassured by the strong words of their captain.

"Now," Blaine said into the mic, interrupting the masses, "I'd like to introduce to you the newest member of WMHS's star cheerleading team, The Cheerios, Kurt Hummel! Come on up here, babe."

Kurt stumbled forward, a little light on his feet because, hello, what?

"Blaine, what the hell are you doing?" Kurt whispered. Blaine simply smirked and shoved the mic in his face.

"Well, I don't even know how we can possibly follow Blaine Anderson the Great, but we'll do our best! Go Titans!" Kurt said, winking at the crowd. The students rose to their feet, cheering them on as they fell into formation.

Kurt's hands clenched at his sides, his head bowed as he waited for the music to start. The adrenaline started in his hands, tingling and spreading to every part of his body. A slow smile spread across his face as the anticipation bubbled like champagne in his veins. The lights started to dim and his heart pounded frantically against his ribs.

The music started and immediately the squad was in motion, the crowd's eyes shining over with the intricate light display. When Kurt's voice first rung out, it sounded better than even he could have imagined. The crowd cheered and started to clap along to the beat. When he sung "Poor baby, I can dish it 'cause I know how to take it," his eyes landed on Blaine, whose eyes were wide and his mouth hung agape.

Kurt smirked, using the reaction against Blaine and started to grind his hips to the music. He had to keep his voice steady as Blaine looked absolutely pained at the sight. Kurt redirected his line of vision and finished the performance, belting out "Shut up 'cause we won't stop and we're getting down till the sun's coming up." with a magnificent grin to the audience.

The Cheerios were awarded a standing ovation, but when Kurt looked at Blaine, he found the otherwise bold football star to be blushing like a school girl. Kurt smirked a little, proud that he had been the one to fluster the other boy this time.

The squad crowded around Kurt, attacking him with hugs and compliments as the lights rose and the crowd started to disperse to numerous buses and beat up, two-wheel drives. Kurt thanked all of the girls and dismissed himself to get a drink.

He was leaning up from the water fountain when he noticed Blaine leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He was looking at Kurt, his eyes an overwhelming hazel. He straightened up and stared at Blaine, waiting for him to speak.

After a beat Blaine walked over to Kurt, leaning in close to his ear. Blaine's warm breath made Kurt shudder, but he stood there with false confidence. "Maybe you can be my guilty pleasure," he murmured softly before leaning back and walking away as if nothing had happened.

Kurt walked to his locker, opening it and throwing his books into his bag. Why was Blaine acting like this? Kurt didn't think he was anything special, and there were a couple other gay guys in the school. Not to mention it would be a piece of cake for him to meet guys at other schools. Kurt was a Cheerio, he got good grades, and he had a social life. Blaine however, was head of the school, captain of the football team when he didn't even play the stereotypical position to be the captain, and on top of that he was still one of the more humble members of the team. Why would he be interested in Kurt?

His train of thought was interrupted by Quinn hurrying up to him as he left. He turned around, forcing a small smile on his face.

"Hey Kurt, I was hoping I would catch you." She grinned expectantly, rocking on her feet.

"Hey, Quinnie. What's up?"

"Well, the squad is hanging out after the game tonight at my house. It's a sleepover, and we were wondering if you'd want to come? I mean I know you probably wouldn't want to hang out with a bunch of girls, but-"

"I'd love to."

Quinn's expression was surprised as she reached into her bag and handed Kurt a folded piece of paper. On it was an address scrawled in swirly script.

"Most of the girls carpool to the game, and hanging out after the game is tradition, so you can carpool or just follow us. Whichever." She smiled, hugging Kurt around the neck.

"Awesome. Thanks for inviting me."

Quinn laughed into his shoulder, "You're a Cheerio. It's automatic. However, I'll let you in on a little secret. I like you more than a lot of the girls."

Kurt chuckled and waved goodbye as she skipped down the hallway to Santana, who blew a kiss to him sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and waved to her too before walking in the opposite direction.

Quinn approached Santana, double fisting to the air.

"Is he coming?"

Quinn nodded, linking arms with Santana.

"Game. Set. Match."

"Oh McKinley you so fine, you so fine you blow my mind, McKinley! Hey, hey Mckinley." They had thrown that cheer in for fun, and it made a few of the people in the crowd chuckle. Kurt ruffled his pompoms and walked over to Quinn, who was reaching into her bag for a bottle of water.

"How am I doing?"

Quinn straightened up, raising an eyebrow towards Kurt, smiling curiously. "You've cheered hundreds of times, you're doing perfectly."

Kurt's eyes were anxious, but he thanked her quietly. He was focused on Blaine who, even though he was out of the game for the particular play, was clapping and shouting encouragements with his helmet propped under his arm. Occasionally his eyes would flicker to the cheerleaders, and he would search for a bit and direct his attention back to the game. They were pulling their weight in the game, which didn't surprise Kurt. He'd seen them practice, and he wouldn't want to go up against them.

Eventually it was seconds before the end of the fourth quarter. They were winning by seven, and Kurt's voice was nearly gone. He had been cheering for a few hours, and as the sun had set, the cold had coarsened his voice. The las few seconds ran out and as the buzzer rang out, the team huddled together, celebrating their win. Blaine calmed them down quickly and gave them a quick pep talk, and Kurt glanced up to watch as he packed his bag up.

"Like what you see, Hummel?" Santana smirked down at Kurt, who laughed slightly.

"I was just spacing off."

Santana rolled her eyes, "Sure you were. We're leaving for Quinn's, but you can stick around if you have any unfinished business." Her eyes flicked to Blaine, who was high-fiving his teammates. His hair was messy, sticking to his forehead and blowing in the slight breeze. His face was sweaty; the two black lines across his cheekbones starting to smear. The smile plastered on his face was way too big for it, but it was endearing. He looked so happy. It took Kurt a second to peel his eyes away, but he eventually gathered his bag on to his shoulder, glancing at Blaine a few times before walking to the parking lot.

He climbed into his car, warming his hands by the heater and turning up the radio. He typed the address into his phone and it gave him directions to a magnificent house at the end of a long, gravel road. It was a country style home, painted white with rocking chairs on the wrap-around porch. There were vines creeping up the sides of the home and up the chimney. Kurt stared at the beautiful home before pressing the doorbell. Quinn answered it, clad in pink silk pajamas. Her hair was in a messy bun and she smiled, opening the glass door and welcoming him in. She took his bags as he stared at the even more magnificent entryway. He could see the living room from there, which housed the entire squad in various forms of sweats and tank tops. They all waved to Kurt and returned to their conversations. Quinn led him to a room where he could change and then walked to the kitchen, motioning over Santana.

"Wassup Blondy?" She grabbed handful of popcorn.

"So we have to get Kurt to admit he likes Blaine. If they don't get together soon, I'll end up slapping one of them. Seriously, Blaine is driving me insane. Kurt is literally all he talks about"

Santana nodded sympathetically. "Look, it shouldn't be too hard. Although, I totally think our little Kurtsie should make it difficult for Blaine. It's been a while since he's had to chase anyone."

Quinn rolled her eyes, "He's never had to chase 's never had to chase anyone. He just has to shoot you that stupid puppy-dog face and suddenly you're wrapped around his little finger"

"True."

Just then Kurt entered in a t-shirt and sweats. His hair was messy and damp from washing out the gel and his face was a little pink from washing it.

Santana walked past him, chewing on a Twizzler and slapped his butt. Kurt gawked at her, but she just shrugged. "You have a cute butt, I had to." Quinn laughed, grabbing Kurt's hand and leading him to the living room. "Ignore her, she's just very up front about things."

Kurt nodded, sitting by Quinn in an over-stuffed chair. The circle of girls quieted as Quinn began to talk.

"So, who wants to play a game?"

The girls nodded in agreement, sitting up.

"How about truth or dare?" Santana clapped, "I go first. I pick you, Hummel."

"As long as you don't slap my butt again, I'm game."

"No promises. Okay, truth or dare?"

"Truth." Santana rolled her eyes, but Kurt just smirked.

"Fine, wimp. Do you have a crush on Blaine Anderson?"

Kurt spluttered, "No, no! Of course not."

Santana clucked her tongue, "My bull-shit alarm is going off."

Kurt's face reddened, but he shook his head. "No, absolutely not."

"Well you at least think he's nice, right?" Quinn turned towards Kurt.

"Of course, he's super nice."

"And you like him."

"No. Yes. I don't know! Shit. I-he's so nice and he's really cute, but he could get any guy, or girl, he wanted." Kurt looked down at his hands, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

Quinn sighed, "He wants you."

"Sure, sure. Well I'm super exhausted and I have to leave early in the morning. I'm gonna lay down." Kurt got up, lying on the couch and snuggling into the pillow. It was incredibly comfortable.

"Kill joy!"

Kurt sat up, sticking out his lower lip and pouting. Santana came over, "You know I'm kidding." She hugged him loosely around the neck, kissing his cheek with an audible 'Mwah!' sound. "Auntie Tana loves her Kurtsie."

Quinn giggled, "Night, Kurt."

The circle echoed their goodnights and as they giggled and continued their game, Kurt fell asleep.

That following Monday Quinn was at her locker, checking her face in a compact mirror. Blaine came up behind her, hugging around her thin waist and taking the mirror in his hand.

"You look gorgeous, Fabray."

She smiled, taking it back and putting into her locker. "Thanks, good morning."

"Good morning indeed. Kurt's looking amazing, as always." The boy walked past them, waving slightly and continuing to his locker.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about Kurt." Blaine released Quinn, leaning against the locker.

"When don't you?"

Blaine stuck his tongue out, "I'm serious."

"Okay, what is it?"

Blaine licked his lips, "I need the Cheerios to help me out with something."

At lunch, Kurt was munching on a salad while finishing his Pre-Calc homework. They were outside by the steps, basking in the sunlight and Kurt prayed for a little bit of a tan. They had small conversations about the Chemistry's teacher wardrobe. Out of nowhere Blaine, Mike, Puck, and Sam descended onto the steps in front of the Cheerio's table. A few of the Cheerios, including Quinn and Santana joined them, falling into an unfamiliar formation. Kurt looked around, confused if he was supposed to join them. They started to clap and the football players stepped forward. In a few of the cheerleader's hands were large poster boards, but he couldn't see what was on them.

"Hey Kurt, you looking fine, and I really, really, wanna make you mine. You looking cute, but you already knew, I have a proposition for you." The girls who weren't cheering handed the boards to the boys, who held them high over their heads.

"Eight, one, eight, four, five, six, three, will you do me the pleasure of calling me?" Blaine smiled as they held the huge numbers over their heads. Kurt felt himself blushing, not exactly sure what he was feeling.

The lunch crowd clapped, a few of the girls writing the number down. Kurt didn't budge, he just stared at the boys who were now going to sit down. Blaine walked in front of Kurt, grinning shyly.

"It's up to you, sweetheart."

Kurt just swallowed loudly and Blaine walked away to his table.

Tuesday morning, after spending the weekend warding off questions at the traditional sleepover and texts from the squad that weekend, he stood in front of his locker hair-spraying his hair. Blaine walked up, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Good morning, gorgeous. I didn't get a call this weekend."

Kurt played it cool, careful to keep his expression stoic, and closing his locker.

"I didn't have a pen." Kurt sauntered off, leaving the smaller boy speechless behind him.