And then he continued his previous rhythm and Kurt almost gave into the urge to start ripping his beloved hair out. The sound made Kurt's teeth ache as if it was his teeth the metal was smacking again. He cursed himself for even thinking that thought, shifting in his seat at how uncomfortable his pants were destined to become if that noise didn't stop immediately. God, how he wished he hadn't worn skintight jeans today.

"Would you cut it out?" he demanded sharply, uncrossing his legs and leaning towards Blaine in what he hoped was a threatening manner. Or at least extremely annoyed or offended. Anything that would get him to stop flicking his tongue piercing around because hearing it made Kurt think about it. And thinking about Blaine with a fucking tongue piercing was not something that he should be doing. Thinking about Blaine wasn't something he should be doing at all.

"Cut what out, babe?" Blaine asked innocently. He looked anything but as he turned to Kurt, lips quirked into a devilish smirk, eyes glinting in the artificial lights. It was a look Kurt couldn't name, but one he knew he should hate himself for liking. Nobody had ever looked at him that way before; like they actually thought he was attractive.

Then he remembered where he was, and more importantly how he'd gotten there, and he caught himself before what he was thinking became too obvious.

"You know exactly what," Kurt snapped, folding his arms and re-crossing his legs in an attempt to hide his growing arousal. He shifted his gaze to the painting on the far wall, intent on ignoring Blaine, which once again became impossible as he heard Blaine's chair scrap across the hardwood.

"Oh, I know," Blaine whispered softly, his warm, smoke-laced breath tickled the hairs on the back of Kurt's neck, "I just want to hear you say it."

He really wished he'd picked different pants this morning. Luckily the door to the office opened at that moment and Principal's Figgins and Mr. Robertson entered, preventing Blaine from doing anything else. Kurt was momentarily taken by surprise at their appearance. He hadn't even heard the bell ring, but before the door snapped shut he could hear the crowd of students slugging their way through the halls to their second block class.

Figgins took a seat in the worn leather chair facing them, looking uncharacteristically stern. Mr. Robertson, a packet of papers in hand, stood off to the side.

"Back again, Mr. Anderson?" Kurt was confused for a second, but then he realized Blaine had to have a last name. He glanced over at Blaine–when had he shifted his seat back over there?–and watched the mocking smile form on his lips as Figgins continued. "This is the second time in two hours."

"I should probably slow down on that a bit," Blaine intoned cheekily, folding his arms, "Wouldn't want to make it too obvious how irresistible I find you."

Everyone in the office visibly blanched. If Kurt didn't hate the boy so much at the moment he would have had to stop to admire his sarcasm.

"Mr. Anderson–"

Blaine held his hands up defensively, "Alright, alright. Dish out the punishment and get on with it then. I'm already bored with you."

Kurt felt his jaw sag slightly. He'd thought that Blaine was audacious in Mr. Robertson's class, but he hadn't dreamed he'd talk to the Principal like he was a misbehaving toddler who he had just sent to his room.

The muscles in Figgins's jaw worked furiously as he glared at Blaine, who looked completely unfazed.

"Mr. Robertson had already worked out a punishment for you boys, but obviously I will need to add onto yours, Mr. Anderson." Figgins turned as Mr. Robertson stepped forward.

"You will both serve a week of detention with me starting tomorrow." his dark eyes flashed to Kurt, who had opened his mouth to protest but then thought better of it, "Since you were both absence from the remainder of class you missed partner assignments for the novel analysis. Therefore I have partnered you together–"

"What?" Kurt squawked, eyes widening. A week of detention was going to be bad enough. Now he had to do a project with this asshole?

"It's all explained in the assignment packet," he held out the packets as he spoke and Kurt snatched it out of his hand, "You would have known this if you hadn't been disruptive."

But Kurt wasn't listening. He was scanning the outline on the first page–

For every novel we will be reading, you and your assigned partner will be designated a portion of the text to critically analyze and present to the class during discussion–

"Wait," Kurt said faintly, his heart sinking, "You mean I'm stuck with him all year?"

"I do not change partners unless given very good reason, Mr. Hummel," Mr. Robertson said sharply, "Unless it becomes incredibly obvious that you two are not both pulling your weight in the assignments then I see no reason to change this arrangement."

Figgins cleared his throat and added, "Given Mr. Anderson's glowing academic reputation from Dalton I see no reason for you to be concerned, Mr. Hummel. Learn to work past your differences and these problems you two seem to be having."

Glowing academic reputation? Kurt wondered in disbelief, glancing at Blaine, who still looked unfazed at the conversation around them. In fact, he'd gone right back to clicking his tongue piercing, ignoring the assignment sheet in his lap.

"Mr. Anderson you will serve an extra week of detention for you insolence," Figgins continued, as Mr. Robertson left the office with a small farewell, "I will write you both notes to excuse your tardiness to second block. What classes should you be in?"

"French IV with Madame Bellemont," Kurt muttered, carefully tucking the packet into his bag.

"AP Calc." Blaine added, unceremoniously stuffing his own paper into his ratty bag.

Figgins handed Kurt a short note, and looked at Blaine, "AB with Ms. Gates?"

"BC with Jenkins." Blaine corrected, throwing Kurt a roguish wink.

Lips twisted in a snarl, Kurt stalked out of the office and headed upstairs, trying to ignore how flushed his face was and hoping Blaine hadn't seen it before he'd left. No, he thought, this year isn't going to go well at all.

----------------------------------------------------------

Kurt spent what was left of his French class insulting Azimio in a dozen different ways. Even after three years in the same French class as the jock he still didn't understand exactly how Azimio had managed to pass the first section of the subject. Still, after an hour of dishing out rapid-fire French and saying things to one of his chief tormentors that he would never dare say in English, he felt slightly better about the morning he'd had so far.

A quick stop by his locker to drop off his books led him back downstairs to his Home Economics class. He was one of the last to enter, but thrilled to see some familiar faces present. Brittany and Tina had snatched a table in the front and Mercedes had saved him a spot in the back row that he gladly sunk into.

"Boy, you have a lot of explaining to do," Mercedes said at once.

Tina appeared at his shoulder, "I cannot believe you slapped him!"

"He deserved it." Kurt retorted, anger flaring up at once as Brittany joined them, "He's a vile prick who needs a hair transplant."

"I tried to give my brother's Legomen hair transplants once with my leg hairs." Brittany whispered to Tina, who just looked confused.

Okay, maybe he was lying about that last part. He loved curly hair and Blaine's was curly to the point of being completely unruly. Thick, dark curls that he just wanted to run his hands through and...the girls were looking at him expectantly and he realized he had no idea what they'd asked him.

"Sorry, what?"

"What happened in Figgins's office?" Tina reiterated, exchanging a furtive glance with Mercedes.

The look didn't escape Kurt's notice. He eyed the pair warily, "What's that look for?"

"What look?" Mercedes said, plastering on an insanely bright smile and pretending whatever that look was, hadn't happened, "How much trouble did you get into?"

"Week of detention with Mr. Robertson." he paused as the girl's looked aghast, "With him."

Tina covered her mouth as she started coughing but he could see the huge grin behind her hand. Mercedes, however, did nothing to hide hers.

"What?" he finally snapped when neither of them seemed to want to explain just what the hell was so great about this news.

The bell rang as he glared at the pair of them. Mrs. Olsen appeared at the front as Tina and Brittany wandered back to their table.

"What are you two going on about?" Kurt hissed at Mercedes as roll call started.

"Oh come on, boo. You can't be that oblivious."

Kurt stared at her blankly, and when he didn't reply she rolled her eyes and whispered back, "He's totally into you."

"He's an asshole." Kurt shot back, a bit louder than he'd meant to. The girls in front of them glanced back curiously as Mercedes cut him off.

"He's hot and gay, Kurt. Or bisexual or something." Mercedes waved her hand around in exasperation, "The point is, how many more gay guys do you think you're going to meet in high school?"

"So I should just throw myself at him because he's gay?" Kurt said somewhere between disbelief and anger, "He's not even my type–"

"Oh, please. I saw the way you were looking at him, boy. And since I don't stand a chance, you should take one during your detentions."

"No. Just no. He's already been enough trouble for me. I don't care if he's gorgeous, he's the absolute last thing I need in my life."

He glared furiously at her and turned back towards the front. Privately, he knew Mercedes was at least partly right. Someone would undoubtedly be trying to make a move during their detentions, and Kurt honestly didn't know if he was looking forward to it or not.

They didn't take about Blaine at all while they were baking, nor during their lunch break and the half an hour of class after. Kurt was grateful for it, and even more grateful that Blaine didn't seem to have lunch or any of his other classes today. He only hoped the same would happen tomorrow. He left Mercedes, Tina and Brittany at the stairwell for his last class up on the second floor.

The moment he walked through the doorway to the chemistry lab he almost turned around and skipped the stupid class because there was Blaine. His boot-clad feet were propped up on the table in front of him and a giant pair of headphones were sealed over his ears. Kurt could hear the buzz of the music from across the room and silently took the seat farthest away from the delinquent. He had the sudden feeling that Blaine was going to be in all of his AP classes. Figgins's comment about the "glowing academic reputation" rung in his ears as he pulled out his supplies, ignoring the sound of Blaine's fingers drumming on the table.

A glint of metal on Blaine's ankle caught his eye as more students began filing in. The ankle monitor. He'd forgotten about it in all the drama of the morning. Now that he remembered he couldn't help but wonder just what Blaine had done to get it slapped on. But his eyes had lingered too long. Blaine's feet dropped off the table as he turned to Kurt, pulling off his headphones.

"See something you like, Hummel?"

He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, but he wasn't going to let Blaine keep getting the better of him.

Several of their classmates had turned to watch. Judging by the whispers, Kurt knew the incident from English class had already spread like wild fire.

"Just admiring your gaudy jewelry, Anderson." Kurt snapped, glaring at every one of those pearly white teeth, "It's reassuring to see someone's keeping you on a short leash."

The smile on Blaine's face had to be frozen. It didn't widen or shrink or flicker in any way. It was unnerving to Kurt. Everything about Blaine was unnerving. He managed to get under Kurt's skin in a way nobody else had ever done.

Mrs. Mentore entered with the bell, and only when she called for everyone's attention did Blaine finally look away, his smile still lingering on his handsome face. A thrill that Kurt had been trying to suppress shot down his spine and he squirmed in his plastic seat. Why couldn't it have been someone– anyone– else that had decided to be the asshole to pursue him with those damn lustful eyes? He could have denied them easily with a witty remark and a snarky look but for some reason he couldn't fathom he couldn't do that with Blaine. It was starting to piss him off more than the actual boy was.

There was a call to partner up for a lab and fortunately the girl next to him agreed to work with him. It was only when everyone had shuffled off to the lab stations that Kurt realized there was an odd number, and more importantly that Blaine was the odd man out. He hadn't budged from his seat and Mrs. Mentore noticed as she headed towards the back where the stations were set up.

"Oh, we seem to have an odd number, guys! Who wants to be a trio?"

Nobody spoke. It was like the silence that had followed his slap this morning, only for some reason it made him feel a lot worse. Blaine rose from his desk and everyone shrunk back in obvious alarm, clearly expecting some form of aggression for the snub. The reaction would have made Kurt flinch at the very least, but Blaine's expression was impassive.

"I prefer to work alone actually." Blaine intoned lightly, snatching a lab sheet from her shocked hands and settling in at the only empty lab station.

"Are you su–" she stopped at the dark look he shot her, looking as flustered as Kurt usually felt under his gaze, "Right. Um...class! Welcome to AP Chemistry II! I had most of you for the first section of Chemistry so you know the drill for labs. Wear your goggles for this one and answer the questions in your lab notebooks. Here are the directions..."

As she went up and down to each group handing out the sheets Kurt saw that Blaine was already way ahead of the rest of them and not wearing the protective goggles like they'd been told. Mrs. Mentore seemed hesitant to approach him again and instead called, "Everyone make sure your goggles are on!" before making her rounds to help them with the lab. Blaine ignored her.

Kurt knew he should be focused on his own lab, but he couldn't help but watch the delinquent. Blaine was flying through this like he'd done it a million times before. At least the glowing academic reputation made sense to him now even if the obnoxious attitude didn't. After half an hour of progress Kurt was glad to see that they were half way through the lab and ahead of everyone else. Except Blaine who was finished and pulling a cigarette out of his back pocket. With a swift movement he stuck the tip into the still lit Bunsen burner and brought it to his lips–

"Mr. Anderson! Put that out at once!"

The entire class spun around to watch as Mrs. Mentore snatched the smoking cigarette from his hands and put it out in the sink.

"There is no smoking on school grounds and especially not inside a classroom! Principal's office, right now!"

With a roll of his eyes and an accompanying sigh, Blaine shouldered his bag, thrust his finished lab report at her and walked out. Somehow, Kurt seriously doubted Blaine would actually end up where he had been sent.