He hated how fast he'd gotten in over his head against both his father's and Carole's warnings. He hated himself for enjoying what had happened and more importantly he hated Blaine. He hated the finger-shaped bruises on his hips and the hickeys all over his collarbone and neck, and especially the one on his hipbone. Blaine had strung him along fully knowing how inexperienced he was and how awkward he was with anything of a physical nature and he hadn't cared. He'd gotten himself off and then basically tossed him out like he was garbage.

God, he hated Blaine more than he ever had before. His first time being in any way imitate with another boy had been completely ruined. Even the thought of his first kiss made his chest ache. None of it meant anything to Blaine because all Blaine cared about was his dick.

So he avoided him like the plague once their novel analysis was finished. He made sure there was always somebody else with him wherever he went and when that wasn't possible he got from point A to point B as quickly as possible. Because this time he wasn't going to break his promise to himself: he was done with Blaine Anderson and nothing was going to make him change his mind. That asshole had already ruined enough of his first experiences and he wasn't going to let him ruin anymore.

By the following Tuesday Blaine was trying his damnedest to get him on his own. He made a habit of following after Kurt and whichever friend he was walking with, shoving his way into their group and breaking up the conversation. Every time Kurt made a stop at his locker Blaine was waiting with the books he needed for his next class. By their afternoon Chemistry lesson he seemed almost desperate, forcing his way between Kurt and his lab partner and trying to touch every bit of him that he could. In an almost panic Kurt asked to use the restroom just to escape for a few minutes to get his head together. Even though he'd made the decision he still couldn't control his body's responses to Blaine's proximity. It was the worst part about it all really. He hated everything Blaine had done but he still thrilled at the tremor of pleasure the slightest touch gave him.

But Blaine hadn't given up when he'd left for the bathroom. As Kurt came out of his stall he ran right into Blaine, who had a self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

"You know there's really no need for you to play so hard to get anymore, baby."

"I'm not playing anything." Kurt replied scornfully, quickly getting over his alarm at being followed and quirking his lips into his patent snark, "I am done with you."

A quick side step towards the sink to wash his hands did nothing to deter Blaine.

A deep chuckle sounded in his ear as Blaine grabbed his hips, his fingers pressing into the little bruises that hadn't completely faded yet, "I think you and I both know that's a lie."

Kurt knew it was going to be next to impossible to get rid of him. He'd given Blaine a taste of the one thing he was after. It was like he'd waved an entire bag of candy in some toddler's face but only let him have a little piece of it while he sat there and ate the rest. That simple taste had only turned Blaine's want into a full-blown obsessive desire and Kurt had to somehow find a way to stop it without giving in to everything his own body still wanted. Because an excited shiver still shot down his spine at the touch, and he'd never been more confused inside his own head when half of him wanted this and half of him didn't. He silently cursed his hormones for completely destroying what had been a competent and intelligent brain three weeks ago.

Still, he'd let things go even farther than far enough and this time he had to be firm until he figured out his own head. Or until Blaine gave him something more than testosterone-induced lust. There'd already been too much of that.

Kurt turned the faucet off and shoved Blaine away, hard. Even though he knew Blaine was stronger, the other boy stumbled back a few steps as Kurt glared at him, "Do not touch me, Anderson. I said I'm done with you and I meant it."

He turned to walk out of the bathroom but was stopped by a firm grip on his forearm. There was no denying his surprise when Blaine spun him around and backed him up to the wall. The last time he'd told Blaine to stop he'd backed off immediately, not pressed for more. Kurt could feel the desperation in Blaine's touch as he pushed himself against Kurt, feel his short, panting breaths brushing over his neck. And for the first time he was scared, so scared he actually froze.

"Fuck, I just–I want you so much, Kurt." Blaine rested his forehead against his, eyes fluttering closed but not before Kurt saw the briefest flash of panic. "I need this. I–I–fuck, I need you."

A knot twisted in his stomach that had nothing to do with the fact that Blaine's body was sealed against his. He couldn't do this. He'd sworn he wouldn't do this again. Not until he figured all of this out. Maybe not ever. In that moment, he didn't care that Blaine was almost vulnerable and open to him, or that maybe Blaine did feel something more than just a sexual attraction to him. The rational part of his brain had already made its decision. Blaine was just on edge because it'd been almost five days since they'd gotten off and this was all an act to relieve his tension.

"No." He was amazed he managed to keep his voice so steady as he spoke. "I said no and I meant it. I'm not your whore, Anderson. I'm not letting you climb on top of me every time you need to get off."

He made to shove Blaine away again so that he could escape to the safety of the hallway but Blaine's hands caught his wrists and shoved them down between their bodies. His heart was thundering in his throat as he looked Blaine in the eyes. There was just the smallest flash of something painful before the anger flickered to life, and with the anger came the cockiness.

"Oh, come on!" Blaine growled in exasperation, "I already told you I don't think you're a whore, babe."
His own anger boiled to the surface at the remark. Blaine really didn't understand his perspective on this at all.

"I don't care if you don't think I'm one." Kurt spat, trying to shoulder Blaine off of him. He knew he was about to really lose it if Blaine didn't back off and he really didn't want to know what would happen to either of them if he did. "You made me feel like one. You used me, Blaine." He looked away as he trailed off, feeling the sharp sting behind his eyes. God, why did he have to be so emotional?

"Don't worry about that." Blaine said quickly, a little lewd smirk tugging his lips, "I can make you feel so much better, baby."

He ground his hips against Kurt's and Kurt finally just snapped. The leg that had been pinned between Blaine's jerked up hard, slamming right into Blaine's balls. He saw the absolute shock morph across Blaine's features as his eyes shot open wide and his eyebrows scrunched up in pain. It only took a small push to get Blaine off of him this time. The other boy stumbled a few steps before crumbling to the ground with a sharp, high-pitched whine.

"That's for using me to get off, Anderson." Kurt said savagely. "I bet it hurts a lot more with a hard-on, doesn't it?"

The door banged shut behind him as he fasted as walk as possible without running back to the chemistry classroom. He didn't want to think about what he'd just done or Blaine or anything that had happened since they'd met. As he re-entered the classroom and passed by Mrs. Mentore at her desk he overheard the conversation she was having on the phone.

"Yes, Blaine Anderson walked out of class again. I don't know if he's still in the building..."

He kept walking and re-joined his lab partner, trying to bury himself in their work and to just once forget about Blaine.

At Glee rehearsal that afternoon he half expected Blaine to come swaggering through the door, but he didn't. Ms. Pillsbury's boyfriend, or he thought he was her boyfriend he honestly was never sure with her, stopped by to lecture them about dental hygiene and to make an obviously jealous Mr. Schuester even more jealous. Aft that, Kurt sent the majority of class dodging Santana's prying questions and Puck's obscene gestures whenever someone mentioned him and Blaine. Because no matter how many times he insisted that they weren't "together" nobody really believed him.

It was just another good reason to hate Blaine. He'd turned them into an "item" or as Puck and Santana kept saying "fuck buddies"(he literally cringed at that phrase) without even trying.

Wednesday morning he'd expected a renewed attempt at a make out session or just even a few touches. But he was quickly finding that Blaine was full of surprises and never did what Kurt expected him to do. He taken his usual seats in all of their classes and if it hadn't been for Kurt being so hyper-aware of his presence he wouldn't have even know he was there.

He didn't stare at him, or try to tangle their legs together. There were no shoulder brushes or grabs for his ass. Not even a few inappropriate remarks or actions to keep his detention streak going. Their teachers at least seemed relieved at making it through a lesson without him interrupting in some way or another, but it just unnerved Kurt even more. sure Blaine had ignored him before, but then he'd been flirting with some random girl and trying to piss him off to draw him back in. Now he was just keeping his head down, like every second of his time was being spent reconstructing himself.

He was never going to understand Blaine at all, was he? Why did he even want to? He was supposed to be done with him.

So he followed Blaine's lead and ignored him too. Or at least he looked like he was. The uncharacteristic silence drew his attention like opposite poles of a magnet. Had he really hurt Blaine with what he'd said? Or was it just because he'd crushed his balls to mush on Tuesday? He had been the kicker on the football team after all so he knew it had probably hurt a lot more than it should have. Maybe he'd heard something from his parents or his grandfather that seemed to be helping him out. Why had his parents even disappeared in the first place? Was it because of how much trouble he was or, and he really didn't want to think it was true, was it because they'd fought out he was gay? He didn't even know how long Blaine had been out or how long he'd been on his own. Or why he couldn't stop mulling over all of this in his head when he should be focusing on what Mr. Ferguson was saying.

Thursday afternoon he was finally given something to take his mind off of Blaine. Mr. Schuester had caved in and was letting them doing a Britney Spears number at the pep rally the following afternoon. The only problem was Mr. Schuester's sudden desire to take part in their performance. He didn't even want to think about the why behind that one. An extra hour of rehearsal spent learning some vigorous choreography and working out the vocals sent him almost straight to sleep after a quick dinner with his father.

He was extremely offended after their pep rally fiasco by the time school let out on Friday. Everything had been going spectacularly until Coach Sylvester had feared the worst and pulled the fire alarm. Mr. Schuester had sworn them off doing anymore Britney numbers and instead went back to his boring, repetitive lesson plans.

Then the thing he was dreading happened the first Wednesday in October. Mr. Robertson handed out their assignment plans for their second novel analysis and returned their grades and notes for the first. He wasn't surprised by the ninety-eight scribbled in red at the top of their returned one, Blaine's notes had been incredibly detailed and in-depth. It was the thought of having to spend time, potentially alone with Blaine again, that worried him. Blaine, much to his surprise didn't appear keen on the idea either. He made a few half-assed remarks when Kurt tried to work out a time and place for their project and eventually just gave up. The other boy had never been so uncooperative, but at least they were one of the last groups again. It was only the sixth and the eighteenth was a long way off. He had more important things to focus on this weekend than a stupid project with Blaine.

The annual Sound of Music sing-along was this Friday and even if his dad was upset that he was ditching on Friday Night dinner again, he'd only sort of cared. They had those dinners every single week, it wasn't the end of the world if he missed a couple so he could hang out with Mercedes and have a fabulous night. Nothing was doing to ruin his day, not Blaine, or their project, or even being partnered with Azimio in French class. He'd make it up to his father over the weekend somehow, maybe by hanging out at the shop and helping or going to see some stupid action movie he'd fall asleep during.

He was halfway through a French rant insulting Azimio and telling him how much fun he was going to have tonight when the classroom door creaked open. Azimio glanced over him as the people who had entered started whispering urgently behind him to Madame Bellefort.

"Kurt?"

Confused by Mr. Schuester's voice being in his French classroom, he spun around lightly in his chair, still smirking at how clueless Azimio was to his insults.
"Can you come outside with us?"

Ms. Pillsbury was with him. His face fell at the looks on their faces and his heart sped up. Whatever they were about to tell him wasn't anything he wanted to hear.

The next three hours were a muddled blur. He'd been ushered out into the hall only to be told his father had just been rushed to the hospital. Mr. Schuester drove the three of them over, explaining what little he knew from the brief phone call the hospital had made to the front office. He barely heard any of it over his father's voice from that morning.

I'm disappointed in you, Kurt.
Breakfast of champions...

God, he just wanted to curl up in the backseat and sob until someone woke him up and told him he was dreaming. But he knew he didn't have that option as Ms. Pillsbury opened his door and helped him out the car. He paced the waiting room for nearly an hour before the doctors came to speak with him and even then they didn't give him anything to go on.

His father had had a heart attack and was in a coma. They didn't know when or even if he was going to wake up. After nearly an hour of sitting beside his bed, holding his limp hand just like he'd held Kurt's so many times before, Mr. Schuester persisted that they head back to McKinley. He almost refused, but another glance at his father, who was usually full of life and smiles and jokes and laughter, lying there more lifeless than a sack of potatoes changed his mind.

He had to get away, to forget. This couldn't be real. It just couldn't.

He made it back to school just in time for the last hour of his final class. He was even almost glad to see Blaine just for the distraction, even if the boy seemed to want nothing to do with him anymore. Everyone was already settled into their lab stations; Blaine was flicking his fingers in and out of the little fire of the Bunsen burner which the group next to him tried to get as part away as possible.

Mrs. Mentore looked surprised to see him wandering into her classroom. She jumped and ushered him over to his seat.

"Kurt, I wasn't expecting you after your father's–"

"I can't miss classes. They'll be too much to make up."

Kurt said quickly, flinching slightly at the mere mention of his father. He didn't want to think about it now or ever.

"Okay. You can skip today's lab if you want to, Kurt."

"No, no. I'll do it. It's fine." His mouth was moving of its own accord, trying to find something, anything to take his mind off of the reality closing in from all sides.

"Well Emily's out sick today so you can work alone–"

"You can always work with me, babe." Blaine's voice called from across the room. "We make a pretty hot team."

He was so out of it he barely registered the return of Blaine's cockiness, or the fact that he seemed to be talking to him. He barely even thought about what he was doing as he reassured Mrs. Mentore that he was fine working with Blaine. Every pair of eyes in the room followed him, a lot of people were whispering, as he dropped down next to Blaine, the biggest and most welcome distraction he could have asked for at that moment.

By some miracle Blaine hadn't even started their assigned lab yet even though he was usually nearly done at this point.

"You haven't even started?"

Blaine shrugged, eyes fixated on his lips as he shuffled closer. "Been distracted by more important things, baby."
Kurt stiffened slightly as Blaine's warmth pressed into his side, and a booted foot tangled around his ankle. Yes, this was definitely a big distraction.

He glanced down at the assignment sheet to see what they were supposed to be doing: Chemical reaction strip tests. Something easy but that they'd have to wait for. And waiting meant his mind would be free to wander. He ignored the increasingly bold touches as he set about starting up the lab and dipping each test strip into the assigned chemicals. Once everything was set up, he clicked the little stop watch they'd been given and pulled up his stool, sitting in to wait and take notes on whatever they were supposed to be seeing.

He mind instantly circled back around to the hospital until a strong hand clamped around his hip. His stomach clenched up, both at the thrill and the way the touch reminded him of his promise.

"Blaine, please stop touching me."

The hand froze but didn't move. "Why, baby? I know you like it. Besides, you could use a good distraction."

So Blaine knew then. Perfect. Now he was back to thinking about his father again. The moisture behind his eyes started building up again at the thought of his father, usually strong and brave, looking like a tiny premature infant wrapped up in a jungle of wires and tubes.

Blaine's hip bumped his as he sniffled and the hand on his hip tightened again. He didn't offer anything more, though Kurt didn't really expect him to. Blaine didn't care, and he was terrible at being nice or saying anything that wasn't offensive. He was probably just hoping that Kurt would before his standards and morals in his hysterical state and throw himself at him.

The stopwatch went off and he buried himself into finishing their lab report while everyone else was starting to pack up. Blaine just sat there and watched him work, not saying anything but not helping either, as the afternoon announcements started over the sound system. He tossed things back into their places and went to rinse out the cups from the chemical dips as the bell rang.

Much to his surprise Blaine didn't leave with the rest of the class. He slid his arm around Kurt's waist again and pressed himself close, whispering so that Mrs. Mentore couldn't hear from her desk, "I can help you forget it you want, baby."

His breath caught and his chest gave a funny jolt at his words. But he wasn't doing this again. Even if it would help him forget everything for just a few hours. As much as he wanted to pretend it wasn't happening, that wasn't going to stop it from continuing.

"No, Blaine." He said tiredly, drying the cups off and putting them in their cabinet. "If the only help you can offer is an orgasm then I don't want any part of it. Why don't you get that?"

"Oh, come on. Just imagine how much harder you'll come when I'm blowing you, babe."

Not if, when. Kurt shuddered at how sure Blaine was again. And really he just hated it. Hated how his father was in the hospital, and everything had changed in only a few hours, and how he may very well end up an orphan, and how the only thing Blaine got from all of that was a renewed opportunity for sex.

"God, just fuck off, Anderson." Kurt shrieked. He didn't care that Mrs. Mentore was sitting ten feet away or that he'd probably end up in detention again. He just couldn't handle Blaine's advances on top of everything that had just been thrown at him. "I don't want to have sex with you. I don't want you near me. My father is–could be d–"

He couldn't say it. Saying it made it real. The tears that had been threatening to fall all afternoon started leaking out of his eyes before he could stop them. And he ran, he didn't even grab his things or look to see either of their reactions to his explosion. He didn't pay attention to where he was going until he found himself inside an empty classroom and even then he could barely see through his tears. He slid down to the ground next to the closed door hugging his knees to his chest.

Now that'd he'd started crying it was hard to stop. But he knew he had to. Carole and Finn were supposed to be meeting him so they could all go over to the hospital together and he didn't want them to worry about him on top of all of this. He wiped furiously at his eyes as he tried to pull it together, and then the door opened and he froze, expecting the room's teacher to have returned for something.

But it wasn't a teacher–it was Blaine.

He almost screamed. Why did he have to follow him and just not give up?

Blaine leaned back against the door, pressing it closed as he folded his arms across his chest. Kurt stood quickly and tried to shove him off the door so he could get out and away from him. But Blaine barely budged at his half-blind shove–tears were still pooling in his eyes even though he was trying to stop them.

"God, would you just leave me alone!" Kurt yelled–or tried to, his throat was too scratchy and hoarse from crying.

"Hummel–Kurt–I–fuck." Blaine ran a hand through his curls, looking more awkward and confused than ever.

Kurt could tell by the look on his face that even he didn't know why the hell he'd followed Kurt when he was so upset. But he just didn't care what the reason was more Blaine's presence in the empty classroom. He wanted to be left alone.

Kurt charged towards the door again, grabbing Blaine's shoulders roughly and trying to push him away from his escape. But Blaine shoved back, locking his biceps in a death grip as he pulled Kurt off of him.

"Just let me go, damn it." Kurt nearly sobbed, fighting against the hold and the scream threatening to climb out of his throat.

"No." Blaine said firmly, backing them away from the door.

He couldn't see anymore, the tears were completely glossing over his eyes and dripping down his cheeks as he slammed his fists against Blaine's muscled chest, yelling, "God, why? Why do you even care?!"

He pounded his fists against Blaine repeatedly twisting and pulling with all of his might to get loose. He was half-yelling, half-crying as Blaine tightened his hold even more.

"Because I know how this feels!"

It was the first time Blaine had ever shouted in his presence, the most emotional Kurt had ever heard his voice. He froze at the admission that had just echoed off the walls of the empty classroom, staring at Blaine. Blaine's hands fell away and clenched into his fists that he pressed against his eyes as though he was furious with himself for what he'd just said.

But Kurt was to upset, to furious and blinded by his own pain to care if Blaine was being truthful and open with him.

"Bullshit." Kurt snapped, shouldering past Blaine towards the door, "You have no idea how this feels." His hand was on the knob when Blaine spoke. His was soft and hollow and it made Kurt's body freeze up again.

"My father died when I was fourteen. My mother when I was six."

Kurt stared at the wooden door, the hand on the doorknob sweaty and cold. For a few seconds the only sound was the clap of Blaine's heavy Doc Martins fading away from the door and Kurt's shaking, snuffling breaths. He slowly turned back towards Blaine, disbelief clawing at his insides. The dark-haired boy wasn't looking at him. His arms were wrapped tightly around his chest, his eyes focused on his foot toeing at the a scuff on the tiled floor.

"Blaine I–I'm–I'm sorry." Kurt stuttered.

Blaine's head shot up at his words, looking startled, as if nobody had ever felt bad for him before.

"No, don't be. I mean,–I just–I should..."Blaine shuffled his feet and dropped down onto the teacher's desk, twisting his forearms around where they crossed over his chest.

Kurt took a hesitant step forward as Blaine cleared his throat loudly.

"I should be the one who's," Blaine cleared his throat again, and mumbled the last word, "sorry."

He'd wanted an apology but he hadn't expected to ever get one. He wiped his cheeks and asked, "Why?"

"Because...god, do I really have to say it? Isn't it enough that I am?" Blaine was suddenly angry, taking to pacing in front of him. Kurt stopped him with a hand of his arm, turning him until their eyes met.

"Yes, you do because I need to hear it."

Blaine stared at him for so long Kurt almost thought he'd forgotten they were talking or even why they were standing there. The hazel-green eyes flickered to the closed door, almost hoping someone would come in and rescue him and then they were back on Kurt's face. It took a moment for Kurt to realize that hadn't glanced at his lips or anywhere else like they always did when Blaine looked at him. There was no lust or cockiness either, just a lot of uncertainty and unease.

"For–for last week at–at my place..."

He trailed away but Kurt could tell by the look in his eyes that there was so much more he was trying to say only he didn't know how to say it. He bit his lip and shuffled his feet as Kurt waited and then–

"I wasn't like–using you–well I was I guess–but just–shit–I just..." he stopped again, and sucked in a huge breath of air, "I want to keep you–keep you close...I just like kissing you, okay?"

He tossed his hands in exasperation and turned away and really, Kurt thought, it was nowhere near a perfect or amazing apology. But from Blaine it was a thousand times more than he'd ever expected. And he knew, even if Blaine would never admit it, that he did care. He couldn't bring himself to call him on it though. Just by watching Blaine struggle through those honest words he knew anything he said could send Blaine right back into hiding.

So he nodded into the silence, even though Blaine was turned away and couldn't see it. The clink of metal against teeth started up as Blaine turned around, some of his cockiness starting to seep back into his expression. For some reason he didn't quite mind the sound so much anymore. They stared awkwardly at each other as Blaine clicked his tongue ring some more.

"So how about that blowjob, babe?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and turned towards the door, "No, just no."

Blaine chuckled behind him, but it didn't have its usually tone of arrogance and superiority. He turned back for a final look–a small glimpse–of the understanding that was still shining there.

"Not even in your dreams, Anderson." He tossed over his shoulder as he wrenched the door open, wiping his nose and cheeks with his sleeve.

"Actually we do a lot more than that in my dreams, baby. I bet we do a lot more in yours too."

Kurt just slammed the door closed and headed back up to grab his bag before meeting Carole and Finn. He didn't understand why his heart felt a little lighter all of a sudden. The daunting visit to the hospital with a father that might never wake up was now looming before him, but Blaine... Blaine Anderson might not being as much of a lost cause as he'd originally thought.