He slunk over to the next hallway to meet Mercedes and Tina at their lockers. He'd lucked out this year and gotten one next to nobody he knew (and hopefully not Blaine he added silently). He'd barely turned the corner when he was shoved face first into the lockers lining the wall. It was only very quick reflexes that saved him from a bloody nose. His arm and shoulder took most of the impact but his cheek still caught on one of the locker's air vents. Part of him expected his tormentor to be Blaine, who had realized he wasn't going to get what he wanted and had decided on a new tack: aggression. But as he turned around he spotted two hulking lettermen jackets high five each other as they continued down the hallway.

With an irritated sigh he readjusted the shoulder strap on his bag and dug into one of the smaller pockets for some tissues to wipe his cut. His search was ended abruptly when a callused thumb swept across his cheek, pressing lightly into the cut and taking the blood off. On instinct he slapped the hand away and took a defensive step back to center his balance, prepared for anything.

A cocky smirk and brilliant hazel-green eyes stared back at him. Blaine eyed the streak of blood on his thumb and said offhandedly, "You should really learn to control that hand. You'll land yourself in more detention."

Kurt's eyes narrowed as the shorter boy leaned against the lockers in front of him. Over his leather clad shoulder, Kurt could see Tina and Mercedes pulling books out of their lockers, but Blaine was effectively blocking his route.

"I'm surprised they let you back in today. Aren't you a fire hazard?" Kurt asked snidely. Blaine was still eyeing the pad of his thumb and didn't comment. He was just calculating the easier way to dodge around Blaine to get to his friends when Blaine did something that made his mental processes implode. He sucked his thumb into his mouth, slowly pulling it out as his tongue twisted around it, licking the coppery liquid off his skin. It was a slow, deliberate movement on Blaine's part. The small part of Kurt's brain that hadn't completely shut down realized it immediately as those smoldering hazel-green eyes locked onto his.

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and way too much heat migrating south. His mouth was suddenly very dry and he couldn't summon the will to move away as Blaine inched forward, eyes raking over his body. Kurt held his ground, his wit taking charge before he could really gain control of himself.

"Please tell me you aren't going to start sparkling." Kurt deadpanned, causing Blaine to stop a good foot away from him.

The smile from yesterday afternoon had returned. Kurt felt the heat rising up his neck, which he was almost thankful for. At least it meant it wasn't flooding south anymore.

"Rest assured, Hummel. My taste in literature is quite fantastic." The smile widened as he leaned against the lockers again, his arms folded across his chest, today covered by a tight army green shirt.

The fashionista part of Kurt recognized it as an excellent color choice: it made the green in his eyes stand out a mile off. For the same reason his rational side hated it. The pants on the other hand...

"Whereas your taste in fashion likes to recycle itself." Kurt eyed the same tight, dark jeans from yesterday with a look of deep disdain. He regretted it almost instantly because he couldn't stop staring at how the dark material hugged his thighs or the way it stretched over his-

Kurt gulped, his face heating up as he looked away. He didn't dare look at Blaine's face. Not that he was given much of a choice a moment later. With a swift lunge Blaine was on him like a tiger, one arm blocking his escape route towards Tina and Mercedes, the other ghosting over the sleeve of his sweater. Kurt hugged his books to his chest tightly, sucking in a lungful of air as Blaine pressed closer, his chest inches away from Kurt's. He wasn't actually touching him but his entire body was tingling somewhere between fear and excitement.

"I think my tastes in other areas more than make up for that, Kurt."

It was the first time Blaine had used his first name. He shuddered at the way it fell off his lips; at the sharp inflection on the "T" and the way Blaine's voice deepened slightly. Kurt's eyes flickered up from the fingers tracing over his sleeve and he looked into those damn eyes. Blaine's face drifted closer until his eyes filled Kurt's entire line of vision. He didn't know where he was or what he was doing. He couldn't remember much of anything. He wasn't even sure if he liked where this was headed. All he knew was that he didn't want this to stop. There was barely a whisper off space between their lips when Blaine stopped. Peppermint and cigarettes swirled together as Kurt's chest heaved air into his lungs, anticipation flooding his veins. Long, dark lashes fluttered closed for a moment and Kurt shuddered again.

"You're not the only one who can tease." The words were whispered against his lips, the hot breath brushing over his lips and making him bite back a gasp. And then the heat that had encircled his entire body was gone. Blaine's hand was still resting against the locker next to his head, but the almost-contact had disappeared. He felt numb as Blaine mumbled a husky, "See you in class, babe." and strutted off.

"Damn, boy. Just damn."

Mercedes and Tina had finally noticed his presence in the hall and made their way over. Kurt still couldn't form a complete thought. His eyes were glazed over as he stared at the spot where Blaine had been.

"You seriously need to tap that." Santana had appeared too. Kurt groaned. The last thing he wanted right now was an ear-full of why Blaine should want her and not him.

"I bet he'd love to hear you make that noise again," Santana persisted. She looked thoughtful for a moment and then added in her sly, conniving tone, "Actually, I bet he'd love to make you scream for him. You've totally got screaming bottom tattooed on your forehead."

He chose to ignore her for the sake of his own sanity. "Heading to class now."

"Get busy, Hummel!" Santana's voice echoed after him, "Before I gets up on dat ass."

He was blushing furiously when he half-ran into Mr. Robertson's room, Mercedes and Tina arriving not long after. Blaine was already reclined in his desk at the back, smirking broadly as they approached. God, he hated that boy, even if he might love the way Blaine made him feel.