He'd never had more trouble trying to follow a lesson than he did in English. Because the chalkboard where it had happened was right there judging him for the numerous sinful things they'd done against it yesterday. The whole room was just an enormous reminder of how stupid he'd been. Mercedes and Tina kept nudging him and passing him notes asking if he was all right but he just shrugged them off. There was no way he could tell them about that. They'd only encourage him to let it happen again. Or worse-they'd demand he push the already shattered boundaries farther.

Behind him Blaine was uncharacteristically quiet and well, not annoying. He hadn't made a move towards Kurt at all or even searched him out before class. It put Kurt more on edge than when he wouldn't leave him alone.

As Mr. Robertson droned on about what they had read for today's class, Kurt's eyes again drifted to the chalkboard. Heat flared up his neck and crept across his cheeks like hot lava. He still couldn't wrap his mind around what had happened. His first kiss. His first real kiss. And it had been with a complete swine, who had only two talents: a knack for trouble and an incredible tongue. He couldn't believe any of this had happened. If he spend the rest of his life kicking himself in the balls for it he wouldn't be surprised. Never had he imagined that he would cave to Blaine Anderson so easily. Or ever for that matter.

Even if Blaine's lips were the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. And the metal bead of his tongue ring had felt amazing sliding roughly against his own...

He smacked his hand resting on the desktop to stop his thoughts from spiraling. It was this exact train of thought that had gotten him into this mess.

The people around him were staring at him. Oops.

God, he was losing his mind.

At the bell he scooped up his things and left before Tina or Mercedes could start questioning him about how weird he had been acting. He knew them well enough to know they'd try to follow him though. So he went into the one place they wouldn't dare follow –the boys' bathroom.

It really was a last resort for him. The last time he'd been in a boys' bathroom, besides the one in the locker rooms, had been at the beginning of the previous year when Puck had tried to give him a swirly. Needless to say he'd been far from eager to return. He slipped inside quickly, keep his eyes downcast and praying that he was alone. A fast scan of the gap under the stall doors and the urinals made him breathe a little easier. He was alone. For now at least.

Kurt dropped his bag under the closest sink and turned the faucet on full blast. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and winced. Even with the extra twenty minutes of skin care this morning the cut on his cheek was impossible to miss against his pale skin. Cursing under his breath he pulled a small bottle of facial cream from his back pocket, set it on the edge of the sink and bent down to splash his face –

He gasped loudly, swallowing a mouthful of water.

As quick as lightning a pair of hands had grabbed his hips, fingers squeezing tightly –possessively – into his flesh, and a warm, hard body had pressed him forward into the sink. He gripped the rim of the sink hard as he straightened back up, rapidly blinking the water out of his eyes as he tried to see who the hell had cornered him.

In the back of his head he already knew the answer.
Blaine. It thrilled and terrified him to no end. Every inch of him was already tingling with want. Then he remembered his promise to himself –he would not let this happen again. He made a move to twist away from Blaine but he was suddenly prevented by a strong arm curling around his waist. The other hand remained on his hip, rubbing slow circles into the fabric of his jeans.

"Relax, baby." Blaine's lips lightly skimmed over the curve where his neck and shoulder met. Kurt's breath caught in his throat. He could feel the prickly stubble on Blaine's chin as his lips traced over his neck. "Nobody's going to bother us. I locked the door."

Oh Jesus Fuck.

The arm around his waist tightened possessively as Blaine's lips firmly attached themselves to his neck, nipping and sucking hard. A shuddering breath fell from Kurt's lips and his head dropped back onto Blaine's shoulder before he could stop it. God, the things this boy made him feel.

He moaned softly as Blaine shifted behind him until they were flush together, the other boy's hard cock pressed firmly against his ass. The contact made him whimper, with longing or disbelief, he didn't know. Blaine was hard already. Hard for him. The thought still didn't completely register in his head. And god, if he didn't feel big as he pushed against him again. He felt more than heard Blaine groan as he ground back against his hard-on, the rumble deep in Blaine's chest vibrating across his back.

Smooth lips were still firmly glued to his neck, lips parted and tongue lapping gently against the swollen skin, leaving no doubt that there would be a mark in their place later. Deft fingers were yanking at the hem of his shirt, desperately pulling it from the waistband of his pants as he clutched onto the sink to stop himself from collapsing to the floor. As soon as his shirt was loose Blaine's callused hands were rubbing every part of his stomach he could reach. Kurt gasped sharply at the sudden and entirely new contact. His right hand shot up, gripping hard onto the curls on the back of Blaine's head.

His eyes drifted shut as he tangled his fingers into the soft curls. Blaine's rough hands traced over the toned muscles of his stomach heading higher to his chest as he grinded against him. He'd never been touched in such a way before. He'd never had anybody make him feel so incredible before. How had he ever gone without this? How the hell was he supposed to have a defense against something he wanted so desperately?

It would be so easy to just let go –to let Blaine completely ravage him senseless. Blaine's hips bucked against him again, pushing his own hard-on against the porcelain sink.

"Stop."

From a great distance he heard his own voice tremble out the word again, but he really didn't expect it to be obeyed. Suddenly, the fingers that had been tangled into Blaine's hair was grasping at air. Cold air brushed over the skin on the back of his neck. The water in the sink was still running full blast, some of it rebounding against his exposed navel.

He shivered, glancing into the mirror. His face was flushed a rosy pink, his hair slightly tousled. The skin where Blaine's mouth had been attached was discolored and turning a dull red. behind his own reflection stood Blaine, still extremely close to him but no longer touched. Kurt turned the water off and stepped away from him, making sure to put several feet of distance there.

"I don't want you touching me anymore. This stops now." Kurt said in his most authoritative tone. He was still surprised that Blaine had stopped at his command –he'd half expected he'd have to physically fight him off.

Blaine's expression was unfathomable. He blinked slowly and something dark flickered in his eyes. Kurt shivered. He was making the right decision, he told himself as he grabbed his bag and left. There were so many things he didn't know about Blaine and so many reasons for him to want nothing to do with the delinquent.

So why did it hurt him so much to say that?

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

His friends were on his case the moment he stepped into Mrs. Olsen's classroom for fourth block. To make matters worse, Brittany kept playing with the scarf he had grabbed from his locker to hide his hickey. The snappy demands for her to stop may have slipped over Mercedes and Tina's heads but when they finally settled down together at lunch, Santana joined them. Needless to say, she caught on to his scarf's real purpose fairly quick.

"I see you took my advice, Hummel."

Kurt choked on his mouthful of chicken.

"W-What?" he gasped, trying his best to sound innocent. If there was anybody he wouldn't be able to foul it was Santana.

"Don't play stupid," Santana said snidely, "You've been getting your wank on with that hot delinquent." She looked thoughtful as Mercedes and Tina looked completely baffled. "Such a shame. I really wanted a piece of that..."

"Seriously?" Mercedes said in disbelief, "Are you sure they didn't use part of your brain when they did your boob job? Kurt won't let that guy near him, right?"

Kurt stared hard at his tray, his face burning. Mercedes was looking at him expectantly.

"Kurt?"

Santana reached across the table and snatched the scarf from around his neck. He made a dive for it, but it was too late. His hickey was in plain view from the girls. He heard Tina gasp in amazement on the other side of Mercedes.

"Oh my god, Kurt! Tell us! Tell us everything!"

The girls, minus Santana, were squealing in delight. Mercedes had even grabbed his arm and was bouncing them both up and down in her excitement.

Kurt buried his face in his hands as they continued to pester him. He knew it was no use. He'd have to tell them something.

"Boy, give us all the details." Mercedes said with an enormous grin, "All the dirty details."

Kurt just shook his head in disbelief and said matter-of-factly, "There isn't much to tell."

Liar, he scolded himself. There was so much more than he could form into words.

"Come on, Kurt. Or are we going to have to let that hickey speak for itself?"

"Fine." He thought for a moment, trying to find the best way to not tell them everything, but to tell them enough to make them stop. "Mr. Robertson left us alone for like ten minutes during our detention and well... you know how he is."

When the girls still looked expectant, he sighed heavily and added, "And he kissed me, okay?"

That was what they'd been waiting for. People at the surrounding tables looked over in alarm as the girls exploded into squeals and laughter.

"I'm so happy for you!" Tina cried, getting up and hugging him tightly. "So are you two, you know, like a thing now?"

"No. Absolutely not." Kurt answered sharply. "He forced that kiss on me. And ruined my sweater."

"He ruined your –what?" Santana was staring at him, intrigued.

Oh crap. Why did he have to let that slip?

"I –he –" He was getting flustered and the girls looked thrilled at the fact. They just kept smiling in a knowing way as his face burned under their looks.

"He shoved me up against the chalkboard, okay?" he hissed across the table at them.

Their jaws dropped, and they shared another excited glance. Before they could question him further the bell ending lunch rang. He breathed a sigh of relief as they headed back to their class. Now all he had to do was hope none of them let any of their conversation slip to Finn. Because if Finn found out it was only a matter of time before his father did.

Then he remembered he wouldn't be at Glee Club this afternoon to do damage control. He groaned as he retook his seat in Mrs. Olsen's classroom. He was so screwed.