The girls all jumped up and clapped enthusiastically as Blaine returned the guitar to its stand and shot a superior look Puck's direction. It was only Mike's firm hand pushing him back into his seat that stopped what Kurt knew would have been an interesting and nasty fight. Blaine had shown up and without much effort promptly stolen the title of McKinley Badass from Puck's grasp. Or at least Kurt didn't see it as much effort–it just seemed to come naturally to him.

Mr. Schuester roughly cleared his throat as he walked back to the front. "You've got quite an impressive voice, Blaine, but next time censor the language please. And try to pick more school appropriate material."

The arm returned to his waist and Kurt did his best to twist away. He was turned on enough without Blaine's touch.

"Oh, I will. As soon as Hummel stops being so gorgeous." He moved in to nip at Kurt's ear but Mr. Schuester firmly pulled him back, alarmed by the lack of boundaries Blaine had.

"None of that during rehearsal." he told Blaine sharply.

To which Blaine said slyly, yet loud enough for the entire room to hear, "There'll be plenty of that after this at my place."

Most of his friends were gaping at Blaine and himself in astonishment. Mr. Schuester cleared his throat again and chose to ignore that comment.

"Alright, guys! Time to work on some choreography for the pep assembly next week."

The next hour was a daze of new steps, twists, kicks, and turns for Kurt. Blaine didn't join in for this part. He'd taken a seat off to the side, following Kurt with his eyes. Even when Finn had the steps down an hour later Kurt was still fumbling around. Blaine's eyes were slowly dragging up and down his body and Kurt could feel the heat of his gaze even from across the room. When it was finally four o'clock Kurt was almost relieved and then he remembered–project alone with Blaine.

Brittany and Santana had lingered back and were both standing right up against Blaine where he was waiting by the door. As Kurt approached he heard something that made him snort.

"So you're a dolphin with Kurt? Is it fun being a dolphin? Because I've never been a gay shark." Brittany asked, her voice coming out sounding slightly dazed and confused. Blaine's eyebrows shot up at the questions, but before he could reply Brittany's gaze shifted to Santana, "Can only boys be dolphins? Or are we dolphins when we have our lady time?"

Kurt had never seen Blaine looked so confused. It was definitely a nice change of pace. Santana was muttering her own reply as Blaine interrupted, finally getting over his apparent amazement.

"Are you high or something?" Blaine asked incredulously as Kurt stopped next to him. He was so focused on Brittany's nonsense that he didn't even attempt to touch Kurt. Perhaps he should start paying Brittany to follow him around, Kurt thought.

"No. She's quite sane when she is actually." Santana answered. She seemed to debate with herself for a moment as she eyed Blaine up and down. "I know where you can score some good stuff if you wanna watch us get our lady kisses on. Most guys are pretty into that."

"Yeah? Who's your–"

"Okay. Let's go." Kurt grabbed Blaine by the forearm and directed him out into the hallway. They had a project to do. He couldn't afford to waste any time while Blaine got high off of whatever. And he didn't want to think about Blaine enjoying watching those two doing whatever it was they called it.

"You've got quite a grip there, Hummel. Bet it'd feel hot as fuck around my cock."

He dropped his hand at once, his face burning in embarrassment. The last thing he needed was that mental imagine. It was bad enough dreaming about it and then jerking himself off to it when he woke up. Blaine took one look at his face and caught on to his thoughts.

A sly, dirty grin stretched across his face as they finally reached the exit to the parking lot. "Been practicing on yourself a lot lately, have you?"

His blush crept down his neck and collarbones. If Jesse St. James had shown up to make breakfast on his head he was pretty sure the egg would have been fried within seconds. And somehow, Blaine just knew he had been–or maybe he was guessing. Kurt hoped he was guessing. There was no way he was that transparent.

"It's none of your business." he spat, digging in his bag for his car keys as he stops next to his Navigator. Blaine whistled softly, eyeing the car, as Kurt unlocked the doors before hopping in on the passenger side. His hand immediately drifted over to Kurt's thigh, rubbing slowly along the inside, creeping higher as they pulled out of the parking lot. The drive over was mostly silent except for Blaine's directions to his house and the smack of Kurt's hand against Blaine's as he tried to bat it away so he could focus on the road. His touch was starting to make Kurt feel dizzy and with every inch it moved towards his zipper his cock twitched in his pants.

"It's over there on the left." Blaine said, leaning over much too far in order to point out the stop. Kurt nearly swerved as he turned into a small parking lot. The sign at the entry–Forestwood Apartments– flickered across his mind before he slammed on the breaks, gasping. There was enough coherence left in his brain to put on the parking brake before he was gone. He didn't care that he was taking up half of the parking spaces at once. Or that the supposed apartment complex looked more like a rundown motel.

Blaine's hand had finally reached its destination and was now slowly palming over his stiff cock.

"Shit." he choked out, panting slightly as Blaine crawled over the gear shift–when had their seatbelts been unbuckled?– and onto his seat. Hot breath tickled his cheek as Blaine nipped along his jaw line from chin to ear, his voice low and demanding as he whispered, "Feels good doesn't it, baby?"

Kurt's moan caught in his throat as Blaine pressed himself into his side until he was jammed hard again the door. Blaine's hand was insistent and firm as it slowly palmed over the length of him through his pants. The door handle was digging sharply into his hipbone as another hand slid up the back of his sweater. He trembled under the touch as Blaine's fingers dug roughly into the small of his back, the nails stinging where they bit into his flesh.

This was what he'd been craving. The one thing he hated himself for wanting more of because he just couldn't get enough. An open mouth sucked at his jaw again, teeth scraping sharply over the soft skin.

"When I ask you a question, Hummel, I expect an answer." The hand against his cock started to ease away and Kurt whimpered, arching himself up to follow the wonderful heat.

"Does it feel good, Hummel?"

The raw growl in Blaine's voice made his stomach twist up as a hand slipped down the back of his pants and into his briefs. His hips bucked at the unfamiliar, yet welcomed sensation as Blaine's hand ran over his ass, a finger dipping down between his cheeks. His breath caught as the hand on his ass jolted his hips forward, slamming his cock against the hand still palming over him.

"Does it?"

The commanding tone sent another wave of arousal to the pit of his stomach. He loved how controlling Blaine was and when he finally looked over at Blaine he knew he was done for. His resolve had pretty much crumbled before he'd started the engine. He needed this. Needed to feel the heat of Blaine's body against his own like he'd been dreaming about. Needed to finally have that sweet release that he'd been imagining since they'd first kissed.

Suddenly he was lifted up until he was sitting sideways in Blaine's lap with a rigid cock pressed against where his ass and thigh met and warm lips mouthing over his neck.

"Do I make you feel good, baby?"

The soft words were whispered against the corner of his mouth as Blaine's hands slowly rocked Kurt's hips in his lap, grinding him against Blaine's cock. Kurt's eyes flickered to Blaine's again. His pupils were so blown with lust Kurt couldn't even see the hazel-green of his irises.

"Yes." His voice came out breathier than he'd expect, but as soon as the word fell from his lips Blaine sucked his earlobe between his teeth and Kurt shuddered, rocking himself down against Blaine's cock, "God, yes."

His mouth fell open as he rolled his hips hard against Blaine's hand. Underneath him Blaine's hips snapped up to meet his when he pressed down against his lap. And then Blaine was kissing him, rough and needy and wet.

"Fuck, you're so hot." he groaned as his hand down the back of Kurt's pants tightened its grip on his ass.

Something slammed hard against Kurt's window and he jerked away his hands reaching for the first stable object he could find–which just happened to be the middle of his steering wheel. His horn blasted off and Blaine's hands pulled him off it as a shrill voice shouted from outside, slightly muffled by the window.

"Hey faggots, get the hell out of my parking space!"

A heavy set woman with wild hair was leering at them through the window. She pounded her fist against the window again and Kurt jumped.

"Fuck off, Belinda!" Blaine hollered back, and the woman sneered, "You don't even own a fucking car."

"It's still my damn space and I don't want you in it, Anderson." Her voice was so high-pitched it made Kurt's eardrums throb. "Move it now before I get Milton out here!"

Blaine growled darkly, flipped her off and without even asking, took the car out of park and pulled them off into a spot in the far corner marked visitor. Kurt was speechless as Blaine killed the engine and flung the driver side door open. It was only on auto-pilot that Kurt grabbed his schoolbag and followed. Belinda was still standing guard at her parking space, glaring at them as they headed across the lot to the long, low building.

There was only one story with a crackled and crumbling awning hanging about three feet off in front and supported by several cracked wooden poles. As they passed down to the far side, Kurt took in the cracked glass panes on most of the porch lights, one door didn't even have a light. There was a lighter area of siding where it should be but it had obviously been torn off; chunks of the wall had been pulled away from where it should be screwed it. Another room's window looked like it was about to crumble to dust. The glass was completely shattered yet somehow still in its frame. Kurt gulped nervously and moved closer to Blaine as they stopped at the second to last door. Half of the little bronze number was missing, but the faded paint let him now this was apartment 5C. To his surprise, Blaine didn't dig into his pocket for a set of keys, he gave the knob a funny twist and the door popped open.

"You-you don't lock your door?" Kurt said in amazement. If he'd lived in a place like this he'd have enough locks on his door to lock every room in McKinley twice. And a guard dog. And possibly a taser in case the dog was a coward.

"Lock's never worked, babe." Blaine grunted. Without a glance at Kurt to assess his reaction to all of this, Blaine walked inside. Not wanting to be left outside with Belinda, Kurt hurried in. The door snapped shut behind him and then Blaine shoved a heavy trunk over to barricade them inside.

Kurt felt sick as he watched Blaine put the makeshift "lock" into place between the door and the busted up dresser. He tested the door, giving it a good tug to make sure it held, seemed satisfied and turned to Kurt. His face was stony as he took in Kurt horrified expression.

"How are your parents going to get in?"

"Don't have to worry about that." Blaine said simply. Kurt didn't understand what that meant at all. Did they work at night or something? Would they not get home until after Blaine left for school in the morning? Or maybe they were on a business trip?

He'd never seen Blaine look so awkward or just human as he cleared his throat and gestured towards the double wide mattress and box spring on the floor opposite of them.

"I don't have any chairs but we'll have plenty of fun on the bed."

Kurt just stared at him and then looked around the tiny room as Blaine shuffled over to the little mini-fridge on the other side of the bed. Along the left on the same wall as the door was a large window, with dusty, well-worn curtains pulled shut. The head of the bed was against the adjacent wall along with a tiny wooden night table with a shade-less lamp. The far wall was home to an acoustic guitar on its stand and the mini-fridge Blaine was digging through. The wall opened up on the other side of the fridge. From where he stood Kurt could just see a mirror and a sink around the corner. As he took it all in he couldn't begin to understand how both Blaine and his parents could all live in the tiny space, but then he realized the most obvious thing about the place.

Everything screamed teenage boy. The old guitar, the pile of chip bags and crumpled up taco wrappers that littered the dresser; the busted up CD player on top of the fridge; the textbooks piled hap-hazardously at the foot of the bed; the small heap of dirty clothes in the corner by the window; the tangled blanket and lumpy pillows on the bed. There was nothing present that would belong to an adult. Something tight clinched around his heart as he watched Blaine plop down on the bed with a can of root beer, staring at him expectantly.

"Let's get this over with then, Hummel. Or should we just get straight to the fucking?"

Kurt ignored the comment, but god, the ridiculously cocky persona was starting to make so much more sense to him now. But really it was the only thing that did anymore.

"Do you–" he hesitated, twisting his hands behind his back and biting his lip as he took a few steps forward, "Don't you live with your parents?"

The question sounded stupid even to his own ears. Blaine was, what? Sixteen? Seventeen? Of course he lived with one of his parents. He wasn't legally allowed to rent an apartment or live on his own. And yet...

A derisive snort was the immediate response to his question.

"No."

Kurt just kept staring at the other boy. He didn't even know how to begin to form a response to that. The way he'd said that simple word made it sound like it was the most obvious thing in the world or was as natural as exhaling. But Kurt knew it wasn't. Calling a place like this home wasn't even something he could imagine, let alone being on his own. His father had always been such a vital part of his life.

"But–how–?"

He couldn't even get his mouth to form the question his head needed to be answered. But Blaine had always been quick to catch on to things.

"My grandfather."It was said in the same elusive tone as his last response and Kurt still wasn't sure he understood.

"So you and your grandfather live here?"

Blaine actually laughed at that question, but it was humorless and dark.

"No." he said again, and this time there was an edge in his voice that Kurt didn't like. None of this made any sense to him at all. The only thing he was really positive about was that Blaine lived here alone. Something sharp prickled in his chest, and for the first time since they'd met he actually felt bad for Blaine. He was a troublesome asshole with too much attitude but he was still just a kid.

"Get out."

Kurt nearly jumped at the sharp tone. Blaine was glaring at him and he looked angry. Angrier than Kurt had ever seen him–even more than when Kurt had hauled off and slapped him. He took a step back as Blaine sat up, but he caught the briefest flash of panic in Blaine's eyes before it disappeared.

There it was. Another glimpse into something more. The reason Kurt still couldn't completely shake himself of Blaine Anderson. Because regardless of the asinine things he said he left Kurt hopelessly intrigued. He'd clawed his way under Kurt's thick skin like nobody ever had before and he knew that no matter how many cuts he opened up Blaine wouldn't leave until he was good and ready."W-what?" He hated that he stuttered over the word as Blaine stood up and moved towards him.

"If you're going to look at me like that, then get the hell out." Blaine snarled and Kurt actually flinched at how furious he sounded.He'd said too much was all Kurt could think. Blaine had given him more information about himself than he'd ever planned on and he was trying to back track. They stood several feet apart, Blaine glaring at him as Kurt tried to figure out something to do or say. From outside he heard Belinda's shrill voice yelling at someone else in her parking space.

"So–er–is Belinda one of your neighbors?"

It sounded even stupider than his earlier question but some of the tension in Blaine's shoulders seemed to relax. He eyed Kurt for a moment, and for some reason the lack of lust in his gaze made Kurt more uncomfortable than when it was present.

A small nod was Blaine's only response as he dropped back down onto the bed, and yanked open the drawer on the night stand. He pulled out a pair of headphones as Kurt took a cautious step forward. When Blaine continued clicking buttons on the portable CD player and didn't start growling angrily at him he sat on the edge of the bed, and dug out his notebook, the assignment sheet, and his copy of The Count of Monte Cristo.

"Alright, I split the list for the themes we're supposed to discuss. So you can do this half–"he gestured to the bottom four– "And I'll do these four."

He heard the heavy hum of music start up behind him and sighed. He really didn't want to have to hound Blaine just to get him to do his half of their project. He also didn't want to get any closer to him than he had to on this bed.

He really should have expected what happened next. Because every time he didn't want to get any closer or have Blaine near him that's exactly what happened. Strong arms circled under his arms and around his chest, the dull thump of the music was suddenly right next to his ears and even if he hadn't been able to make out the words at this range he could of once Blaine started singing them.

" I’m so good that I’m so bad
I guarantee I’ll be the greatest thing you ever had
cause you ain't never met nobody like me
and you ain't gonna wanna fuck nobody else again"

Kurt's eyes fluttered closed as Blaine's lips attached themselves to his neck. He could feel Blaine grinding himself against his lower back and he marveled at the fact that Blaine was already hard. Of course, he was already half-hard himself, but he really didn't need to let Blaine know that. They needed to focus on their project.

"B-Blaine," he gasped as the hands on his chest pulled the top of his dress shirt open. He heard one of the buttons pop and patter away across the stained carpet. "We have to–to–our project–"

His words faded into an incoherent string of delighted noises as Blaine pushed his shirt off his shoulders and dragged his teeth over his collarbone, sucking roughly at his skin.

"Relax, babe. I already did all of it."

God, he would have. He'd just gone along with Kurt's idea to get him alone–and naked if things kept progressing in the same direction.

His shirt was pushed farther down until it was a puddle around his navel. Kurt shivered at the rush of cold air across his bare skin until warm hands pressed themselves against his hipbones. Blaine's lips sucked hungrily up the column of his neck as his hands skimmed slowly up and down his sides. And then he gasped loudly as a callused thumb brushed over one of his nipples. He arched his chest into Blaine's palm and his ass curved back more, pressing hard against Blaine's cock. A deep groan vibrated against his neck as Blaine's hips bucked against him. And then the warmth against his back disappeared. On instinct he reached backwards to pull Blaine back towards him, or tried to–his forearms were still caught in the sleeves of his shirt. The next second, his arms were yanked free and pulled up and back as Blaine's bare chest cemented itself against his back.

He moaned faintly at the contact. Fuck, he'd never imagined it was feel this good to be skin to skin against someone. Blaine's hands directed his own to hook around his neck and then returned to his chest. He tangled his fingers into the thick curls as Blaine's mouth reattached to his the curve of his collarbone. They were both breathing heavily as Kurt tipped his face to nuzzle against the side of Blaine's head. Anything that brought him closer to this boy and sealed more of their flesh against each other.

Blaine's earlobe was against his cheek and then he did something that even surprised himself. He curled his tongue around the shell of Blaine's ear, using the hands cupping the back of his head to pull him closer to his mouth. Blaine's hips rock forward against his lower back at the unexpected move and his teeth bit down hard on Kurt's collarbone as he groaned loudly. And god, if it wasn't the sexiest thing Kurt had ever heard.

He twisted his ear away from the reach of Kurt's tongue and smashed their lips together, sucking Kurt's bottom lip into his mouth. The hands that had been tracing over the soft skin of his chest slipped down, rubbing over his toned stomach and then fumbling with the button on his pants. He hummed against Blaine's lips as the pressure against his cock lessened and then Blaine's tongue was thrusting into his mouth, licking against his teeth, tongue and the roof of his mouth. And then he yanked his mouth away as Blaine's hand slipped under the waistband of his briefs and pulled his straining erection free.

He cried out as stars exploded behind his eyes, his head falling back onto Blaine's shoulder as his hips thrust up into the fist wrapped around his cock. God, he was already so ridiculously close. Blaine's hand squeezed hard under the head of his cock and Kurt rocks his hips into the touch, craving the rough friction. And then the warmth of Blaine's body disappeared again and he couldn't decide if this is a sign that they should stop or if he just wanted to scream in aggravation.

Just when he had had enough time to realize how absurd he looked sitting there with his throbbing cock bouncing slightly against the shirt still tangled around his waist, Blaine slid off the bed beside him and dropped to his knees, taking his cock into his hand and stroking him firmly.

He meant to moan some word or Blaine's name or something but all that came out was "mmmph". Blaine Anderson was on his knees in front of him, pushing his own apart and sliding a hand around to his lower back to pull him towards the edge of the bed. A firm hand was still lazily pumping his cock, giving it a little twist every now and then that made the heat pooling in Kurt's stomach coil tightly.

Soft lips were pressing into the skin between his cock and his navel and his arms were shaking too much to support his upright position any longer. He fell back onto his elbows, trying to stop himself from throwing his head back in ecstasy and just moaning until he came. Because he wanted to watch this. Wanted to see Blaine's hand moving over him; wanted to see the dark head of curls sucking hard on the skin of his hip. And then Blaine's mouth trailed down to mouth over the base of his cock and Kurt didn't even try to stop himself this time. His head snapped backwards, his mouth falling open as he moaned brokenly.

"Oh fuck, Blaine." He could feel the sweat on his neck and face dripping down to mix with the sheen of sweat on his torso. He rocked his hips up into Blaine's hand as Blaine mouth over the side of his cock. The stubble on Blaine's cheeks scratched against his cock and the heat in his stomach churned as his balls tightened.

Kurt whimpered as his stomach and balls tightened and his elbows gave out. He knew he should warn Blaine but god, he couldn't even think anymore. His hips jerked up as Blaine's other hand reached into his briefs and cupped his balls.

"You've got such a pretty cock, baby." Blaine whispered against him, dragging his tongue along the underside and pressing lightly against the ridge under the head of his cock as his fingers gave his balls a light squeeze.

"Shit, Blaine!"

Kurt screwed his eyes shut tight as the heat in his stomach exploded up the length of his cock. He was cumming harder than he could ever remember, panting and gasping so loud it almost blocked out the way his heartbeat was pounding in his ears.

His cock twitched as his cum spilled over Blaine's fist that was still slowly jerking him through his orgasm. He laid there panting, his face and chest flushed and his cock dripping. He hissed slightly as Blaine hummed against his oversensitive flesh, catching the drip of cum dangling off the head of his cock and licking up the rest from his stomach. And then Blaine climbed on top of him, pressing their mouths together and forcing his tongue been Kurt's lips. His limbs felt too heavy to move, his brain was like a wire with a short in it, but through his haze he realized that Blaine was letting him–wanted– him to taste himself.

Still stupid with his orgasm Kurt could only whimper at the thought as Blaine straddled his hips and rocked hard against him, groaning into his mouth. He could feel Blaine's cock jutting against his hipbone, still painfully hard.

"Fuck, you're so hot when you cum." Blaine breathed, licking his way down Kurt's neck, nipping and sucking hard and Kurt knew he would gladly wear scarves for the rest of his life if it meant that Blaine never stopped doing that. He felt Blaine shift on top of him, and vaguely heard the sound of a zipper being pulled down as Blaine's mouth settled on the collarbone he hadn't yet adorn with hickeys.

To say he was surprised when Blaine's hand roughly grabbed his wrist and pushed it into his boxers was an understatement. He'd barely gotten over the surprise of Blaine forcing his hand into a tight fist around his heavy cock before he was thrusting into it hard. Once, twice, and then a third and final time before he felt warm, sticky cum dripping over the top of his fist, as Blaine let out a loud gravelly moan and collapsed on top of him.

They both lay there panting, their sweaty chests sliding against one another as they came down. From the head of the bed Kurt could hear the music from Blaine's headphones still pounding away to some fast punk song. He stared up at the cracked ceiling, his heart still pounding, his cock now soft and wet between him and Blaine. Blaine rolled off of him after a few minutes and sat up, grabbing his discarded tee shirt and wiping the cum off of himself before tossing it into the corner. Kurt watched him stand up and stretch, his unbuttoned jeans riding low on his hips as he stuffed himself back into them and zipped up.

He turned his gaze to where Kurt was still sprawled out on the bed in a daze and said nonchalantly, "Not bad for a virgin, Hummel. Next time I think you'll be ready for a nice cock in your ass."

"Who says there will be a next time?" Kurt spat, suddenly completely embarrassed and offended. The off-handed comment set him off like nothing else could. God, he felt so stupid. He quickly tucked himself back into his pants and stood up, trying to find his shirt.

"Looking for this?" He turned to see Blaine holding up his shirt. Kurt reached out to grab it but Blaine jerked it back with a teasing grin.

"Give it to me, Anderson. " Kurt snarled angrily, "Or you know what? Fine. Keep it. You probably like souvenirs from all your whores."

Why was he just realizing that's all he was to Blaine? A stupid, cheap thrill to get off to and then dump. He would not cry. God, he would not let the tears fall in front of Blaine. He'd been so stupid.

The smile faded from Blaine's face as he watched Kurt's face screw up as he tried to hold it all in. But Kurt couldn't stop himself from talking now.

"That's all I am to you. Just like what you said to my father in that damn parking lot! I'm just some stupid, inexperienced idiot who you knew you could take advantage of–"

"I don't think you're a whore."

It was said so softly Kurt almost missed it. But the awkward look on Blaine's face told him he'd heard right. Blaine looked distinctly uncomfortable and completely out of his element and Kurt paused because really, Blaine had given him every indication that he thought the exact opposite. It was really the only nice, sincere or honest thing Kurt could ever recall him saying to anyone. As suddenly as it had happened, the usually cocky look took over his features as the mask snapped back into place.

"I've met quite a few whores and trust me. You've got a long way to go if you ever want to compete with them, babe."

He didn't know why that comment didn't upset him like the first one had. Maybe it was because of the slip up Blaine had just had, or that brief flicker of something more that Kurt kept catching sight of, or maybe it was the dank and dingy little studio apartment that Blaine seemed to call home.

He didn't know. But he yanked his shirt out of Blaine's grasp and pulled it on as Blaine dug out a notebook from the small pile at the foot of his bed. He riffled through it, finally stopping on a page covered in untidy scribbles.

"That's what I got for all those shit themes Robertson wanted. You can add your own notes or whatever, babe."He moved the heavy trunk from behind the door and pulled it open. Kurt wordlessly grabbed up his bag and walked out, squawking indignantly when a strong hand grabbed his ass and a husky voice whispered, "See you tomorrow, baby. Maybe we can sneak off to an empty classroom and have some real fun."

The hand vanished and the door slammed shut. He stood there listening to the scraping of the trunk being moved back against the door, still not entirely sure what had just happened.