Thursday morning was a borderline disaster when Mr. Robertson gave them ten minutes at the start of class to discuss things more thoroughly with their partners. Blaine had made one of his typical vulgar comments, Kurt had glared at him and demanded to know when he was available to work on the project. The only response he'd gotten was Blaine pulling a small pocketknife from his pocket and proceeding to start carving into his desk. Kurt's jaw had dropped as the students around them fell silent and turned to watch. The sudden hush alarmed Mr. Robertson at once. After another tense silence in which Mr. Robertson, looking completely terrified, had watched Blaine continue to vandalize his desk, Principal Figgins had been called and Blaine had been escorted out of the room.

He didn't see Blaine again for the rest of the week, but everywhere he turned people were talking about him. Glee Club on Thursday had been divided between discussing the insanity of Blaine and verbally smacking Rachel down for running off some girl called Sunshine, who apparently had an incredible voice, but was now in the clutches of Vocal Adrenaline. Kurt hated that he'd missed so much already. He'd only missed two rehearsals but it seemed things were already out of control.

By Monday Kurt was getting anxious. Blaine had still not appeared and part of him wondered if they'd expelled him for bringing a knife to school and vandalizing school property. Surely Mr. Robertson would have told him and arranged for him to join another group. The other part of him–and he hated admitting it–actually missed the stupid asshole.

When the bell for lunch rang later that afternoon, Kurt took his time heading downstairs to the cafeteria. Today he had nobody to eat lunch with, and since Blaine seemed to have disappeared for good he didn't even have anybody to annoy him.

Much to his surprise as he headed around the corner to his usual table he found it already occupied–Blaine.
No matter what, he knew he had to do this. He needed a plan for their project because he didn't want to fail.

He approached cautiously, hating how his heart fluttered just at the sight of the dark curls. Blaine was straddling the bench, feet flat on the ground, back pressed against the wall, his eyes closed. Kurt paused before he reached the table just watching him. His brow was furrowed and there were dark bags under his eyes, the stubble on his face was thicker and darker than he'd seen it in the previous weeks. The softness in his face was what really made Kurt pause. He'd only seen it once before and it had been in the same room barely two weeks ago.

"If you want to jump my bones I won't object as long as you don't hold me responsible for the bruises you'll have when we're finished."

Kurt just rolled his eyes at the implication and set his tray down. Blaine drove him mad but he was starting to just accept that this was how he always talked. The boy just had no filter and was constantly tried to make everything said between them sexual. Even the whore comment had only stung for a few hours–taking anything Blaine said seriously was only going to make things more difficult. Blaine wasn't worth getting himself all riled up over.

But back to the matter at hand–their novel analysis that was due on Friday.

"And where have you been?" Kurt couldn't help but ask, folding his arms over his chest and trying to look annoyed. Not that it really mattered; Blaine's eyes were still shut.

"Having marvelous adventures in in-school suspension."
At least that explained some things.

"Right. So when are you–"

"Why don't you ladies get a room so we don't have to watch this again?"

Startled Kurt twisted around and came face to face with a trio of lettermen jackets. One person in particular stuck out in his mind–Karofsky. His entire body stiffened. On instinct he took a step backwards–and right into Blaine's chest. There wasn't even a second for him to process this bit of information before a pair of arms had encircled his waist and Blaine's cheek was nuzzling against his neck.

"I thought you liked watching, Karofsky. Since you never get any action of your own." Blaine replied smoothly, his voice even and calm. It unbalanced Kurt that he could be so relaxed with three jocks bearing down on them. And then Blaine's lips were softly brushing over the skin above his shirt collar, his eyes still trained on Karofsky. Kurt nearly squirmed away from Blaine but he knew if given the choice he'd rather deal with Blaine than them.

Azimio rocked on the balls of his feet, pounding his fist into his palm. "Man, let's just hit them or something. I don't want a couple of faggots hanging around here."

But Karofsky looked more uncomfortable and uncertain than Kurt had ever seen him. His eyes were following one of Blaine's hands that was skimming over Kurt's hip and he bit his lip. They were the same hands that had been responsible for the bruises that had finally faded from his cheeks.

"Let's go, guys. They aren't worth getting detention over."

"Oh, man. Who cares. Let's just hit–"

"No. Let's go." Karofsky ordered, and Azimio snapped his mouth shut.

"Run along, "Blaine waved his hand at them in a dismissal and Kurt felt himself being dragged backwards and pulled down to straddle the bench as Blaine did the same behind him.

"Lean back," Blaine's voice was soft in his ear, but the hand on his stomach was strong and sure, forcing his torso backwards until his back was pressed into Blaine's chest. The three jocks eyed them in disgust as Blaine's hands slid up his thighs and his tongue flicked out against the sensitive skin behind his earlobe.

Kurt gasped at the rush in his head, barely noticing as the boys wandered back over to their own table. It was only as one of Blaine's rough hands cupped him through his jeans that he realized how fast things were spiraling out of control...and just how insanely much he had missed being touched like this.

"Break it up, boys!"

Mr. Robertson apparently had the same lunch shift as them. Kurt jerked away at once and made a dash to the bench of the other side of their table, cheeks burning. Blaine grinned lewdly at Mr. Robertson as he continued past them issuing a warning about inappropriate touching before moving off to stop the beginnings of a food fight across the room.

Kurt fiddled with a stray hair dangling down his forehead for a moment as Blaine leaned back into the wall again, eyes drifting shut, and looking as though he'd never left his spot. He still didn't understand why Blaine seemed to be protecting him. Or what he just trying to be possessive and "stake his claim" or something else as ridiculous and macho? Why would he even feel the need to do that with a bunch of dumb jocks?

Mr. Robertson's suddenly appearance had done one good thing at least–it had reminded him of why he had even approached Blaine in the first place.

"I need to know when you're free to work on our analysis." Kurt said, keeping his tone business-like and trying his best to block out the fact that Blaine's hands had just been all over him a few minutes ago.

"Got detention until Wednesday. So Thursday afternoon unless they lock me away for something else."

Blaine didn't even open his eyes as he muttered the answer. Kurt sighed in annoyance. Thursday he had Glee rehearsals and he'd already missed enough of those because of Blaine. And this week in particular he did not want to miss: him and Mercedes had begun a Britney Spears campaign on facebook and he was determined to get it on the option list for the Homecoming assembly. At the same time, the school library closed at five o'clock and Glee didn't end until four-thirty. Even with Blaine and himself both being rather smart that didn't leave nearly enough time to work on it.

"I have Glee rehearsal on Thursdays until four thirty." Kurt told him in irritation. There was absolutely no way he was inviting Blaine over to his house; his father would castrate Blaine on sight and Kurt really didn't want someone who could break into his locker to know where he lived. And then he had a sudden idea.

"What if we meet at the public library across town at five?"

His hopes were instantly dashed as Blaine's foot, today covered by a beaten up converse high top, crashed down onto the table. The ankle monitor shined dully in the artificial lights. At this range Kurt could see the little lights blinking out a steady rhythm that was almost in time with his heart beat.

"I can't even make it past the grocery store down by Blockbuster." Blaine's said and for the first time Kurt detected something like frustration there. He'd rarely heard anything but sexual innuendo and arrogance spewed out of Blaine's mouth.

Kurt thought hard for several more moments. What the hell were they going to do? There was no way he could have Blaine over, but what other options did he really have?
Instead of saying what he was preparing himself to be doomed to, he said rhetorically, "You aren't going to make this easy, are you?"

"We could always do it at my place, Hummel." The suggestive tone made Kurt frown in disdain. He glanced up to find Blaine leaning towards him wiggling his eyebrows. The idea was terrible but he really couldn't think of any other solution right now. And, he reminded himself, at least Blaine's parents should be home. At his house his father wouldn't be home until at least six, which would mean an hour alone in a house with Blaine. That was nothing if not a terrible idea.

"Fine." he conceded scathingly, "What's the address?"
Blaine just smirked at him, "Don't worry about it. You said something about Glee, right? I'll just stay after with you and we can head over together."

"You in Glee Club?" Kurt laughed contemptuously, "Please, Anderson. You need actual talent to join us."
The bell rang and Blaine's smirk just widened as he left without a word.

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

Blaine was once again missing from classes on Tuesday and Wednesday. Kurt could only assume he was still under lockdown in in-school suspension. This was fine with him; it gave him time to reassess himself and get his head on straight again. After nearly a week without any physical contact he'd thought he was safe.

But he'd been wrong. So very wrong.

He spent half the day on Tuesday berating himself for letting Blaine touch him again the previous afternoon. Because now he couldn't stop thinking–or dreaming– about it. He'd awoken drenched in sweat at four o'clock Wednesday morning with a throbbing erection and the memory of Blaine's hand pressed firmly against it still whispering across his skin. Every time his mind wandered in class it fell right back in where his dreams had been cut off. He was completely on edge and it wasn't until he was awoken by another vivid dream on Thursday morning that he realized why.

The week away from Blaine hadn't made things better–it had only made the slightest touch ten times more powerful. He'd never known such potent emotions like these could exist but he was starting to realize exactly why his classmates were all obsessed with anything related to sex. Combining the rush of all these new experiences with the hormones running rampant in his veins was bound to barrel over any sort of logic a sixteen-year-old boy possessed.

Thursday dragged on but with one key difference. Blaine had returned to classes, still cocky and vulgar and as sexy as ever. It did nothing to help Kurt focus on his lessons. But at least it had been on a day with even block classes; he'd have a substantial break between his doses of Blaine and it would be a good basis to prepare him for their project tonight. He didn't even want to think about how long that was going to take them to get through.

Blaine actually stayed throughout their chemistry lesson that afternoon, fiddling with the different instruments when he once again finished early, much to Mrs. Mentore's displeasure. Eventually she ordered him to return to his desk up front since he was done and Kurt was certain everyone in the class gaped in shock when he did just that. After the stir Blaine usually caused, it was strangely bizarre to witness.

Kurt only remembered the motives behind Blaine's behavior when they were finally dismissed for the day and he was happily heading to Glee rehearsal. A large hand traced over one of his ass cheeks as he turned the corner to where their rehearsal room was. He didn't even jump at the touch, though he still batted the hand away as Blaine asked, "So this Glee thing, you guys just dance around and sing or something right?"

Kurt just grunted in reply. The hand of his ass had had way too much of an effect on him. It brought back hazy memories from his dream last night. Only the hands had been much rougher. He shook himself as he led the way into the room, half believing he was dreaming as Blaine followed him. As cocky as Blaine was Kurt had no doubt that when Mr. Schuester prompted him, he would get up and sing. Or try to sing, Kurt corrected himself.

There was no way, on top of everything else that made Blaine irresistible, that he could sing. His voice was sexually charged enough without that added component.

Kurt settled down into his seat next to Mercedes, who was staring right through him in astonishment. Blaine had pulled another chair over until its legs were tangled with Kurt's chair. Kurt usually sat with impeccable posture, but he suddenly wished he wasn't so careful about that. It gave Blaine the chance and enough space to slide his arm around his waist. Even through the double layers of fabric Kurt could feel his skin burning under Blaine's grip. Because it wasn't just a light touch. It was tight and possessive and he hated and loved it all at once.

Everyone else in the room had suddenly gone quiet too. Until Santana sidled up and gave Blaine a seductive look.
"If you're not getting what you want from Hummel then I am totally yours."

She dragged a well-manicured finger along Blaine's jaw line and Kurt swore he heard Blaine hum quietly next to him. Kurt suddenly had the urge to pounce on her and start yanking on her hair. But then Blaine laughed, soft and deep, and his nose crinkled up–god, it had to be illegal to be that adorable and hot all at once–as he said, "Not your team, Lopez."

Blaine's hand had moved up his back and he hadn't realized how tense her presence had made him until Blaine's thumb was rubbing along his spine. "Relax, baby. There's no need to get so jealous."

Kurt spluttered indignantly at that comment. He was not jealous. He was absolutely not jealous.

Santana flashed Blaine a flirtatious wink and said sultrily, "If you ever change your mind, you can totally tap this." The way Blaine's eyes followed the sway of her hips as she returned to her seat made something hot coil tightly in his chest.

He gritted his teeth, not sure if he was more annoyed with Blaine, Santana, or himself. Okay, so maybe he was a little jealous.

Mr. Schuester finally appeared at the front and announced something about discussing young adult contemporary for their next few lessons. Then he spotted Blaine and looked surprised and thrilled all at once.

"It looks like we've got a new potential member, guys!" his eyes fell on the arm wrapped tightly around Kurt's waist, "Kurt, you-uh, wanna introduce your-er friend?"

"Name's Blaine." Blaine said simply.

"Well, welcome to the Glee Club! Everyone is welcome here, though we prefer to have singers. I know you probably don't have anything prepared but–"

Blaine cut him off, "You want me to put on a show?"

"Uh, well. You don't have to today if you don't want to," Mr. Schuester said, trying to be reassuring, "But whenever you feel comfortable enough to give it a go–"

Blaine's arm slipped away from his side as he shrugged and stood up, "I'll go now."

Mr. Schuester looked startled at his willingness. He dropped onto his stool behind the podium up front as Blaine tugged his leather jacket off and, much to Kurt's surprise, grabbed an acoustic guitar instead of employing the band's help. He's been imagining some lewd, fast-paced sexually charge song as Blaine's choice. Something acoustic just seemed too...soft for him.

"You guys can sit this one out." he said to the band guys. His tone was more cocky and confident than Kurt had ever heard. Oh, he was going to enjoy watching Blaine fall flat on his face.

And then Blaine was counting off with a few guitar strums and Kurt was floored. The thought that Blaine might actually be good hadn't even crossed his mind.

"Is it still me that makes you sweat
am I who you think about in bed?"

Blaine would pick an entire song that was devoted to sex and somehow may it even sexier with an acoustic version. Because Kurt knew this song; Puck had spent the better part of last semester singing it under his breath in his classes. It was one of the main reasons Kurt had opted for so many AP courses.

"I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck
than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me"

His eyes were boring into Kurt's and as much as he wanted to, he couldn't look away. He was stunned. Sweet God, could he sing. His voice was growly and low and was sending shivers pulsing down Kurt's spine every time their eyes met. There was no way that Blaine Anderson was real. It just could not be possible to be this attractive. Kurt finally gained enough control to look away only to see Santana fanning herself. The other girls weren't fairing much better and both Finn and Puck were looking irritated at how easily Blaine had stolen their girlfriends' attention.

As Blaine hit the chorus, Kurt felt his heart leap into his throat to pound out a tattoo against his Adam's apple.

"So testosterone boys and harlequin girls"

If he'd been standing he would of had to sit down at that falsetto note. Every part of him swooned as that note washed over him. His mouth was dry and licked his lips subconsciously not realizing that Blaine was still watching him. Mr. Schuester was looking amazed at Blaine's talent but obviously unease at the song choice and the fact that his eyes were focused on nobody but Kurt.

Kurt stared at a spot on the wall behind Blaine's head as the song continued, focusing all of his willpower of controlling the arousal swirling through him. The last thing he needed was to get a boner in front of the entire Glee Club. His seemingly inattentive state only drove Blaine on, until he was literally growling out part of the words in the final chorus.

"Testosterone boys and harrrlequin girls"

Kurt's eyes snapped up and he shuddered at the look Blaine was directing his way. Bedroom eyes. The same thing that had been his undoing in their first detention. And he was supposed to go spend however many hours after this alone with Blaine to work on that stupid project.

God, who was he kidding?

Whether he liked it or not, Blaine Anderson was going to have his way with him. Only there was really no debate necessary to tell him what he knew he wanted.