“Nice form, Anderson. If you ever want to practice your flexibility, I could help you out,” Kurt called from his place under the bleachers. He smirked as Blaine jumped, turning to see who was talking to him.

“H-help me out? Wha..?” Realization dawned on him, and Blaine flushed. “No thank you, Hummel,” he said curtly.

“Why are you so uptight, baby?” Kurt put out his cigarette and slowly got off the ground. Blaine was standing at his full height, and Kurt sniggered. “I’m not going to bite, you know.”

“If you say ‘unless you’re into that’, I’m walking away,” Blaine replied. He readjusted his uniform and glared at the skank. “And I highly doubt that you’re flexible in any way. All you do is sit under those bleachers and blacken your lungs.”

Kurt raised his pierced eyebrow and smirked. “Did you know that I used to be on the Cheerios?” he asked. Blaine shook his head and his lips parted slightly. “Coach Sylvester complimented me on being more flexible that Brittany. Think about it.”

And god, Blaine really shouldn’t think about it but now he was and Kurt wouldn’t stop smirking. “Fuck, Hummel, will you just give up already?”

“Whoa, I got pretty boy Anderson to cuss. Interesting.”

“No, I’m serious. You put on this big fucking act that I can see right through. You aren’t even remotely badass, and yet you act like you own the place. And the worst part? My status as a Cheerio intimidates you. In fact, you’re jealous of me.” Blaine huffed out a sigh and watched as Kurt’s expression turned stormy.

“You really think that, Anderson? You think I’m jealous of a virgin like you?”

“Yes,” Blaine said uneasily. Kurt laughed bitterly.

“Maybe I am,” he murmured. “But you still want to fuck me.” Blaine opened his mouth to reply but he was abruptly cut off by Kurt kissing him. Oh.

It tasted like tobacco and mocha, and Blaine found himself wanting more. Kurt pulled back, panting. “Want me to show you just how flexible I am?”

“Oh god, yes.”