It all started at that stupid pool party The Warblers throw every winter. Kurt didn't want to go, but Wes threatens anyone who doesn't attend with the gavel, and well, it's kind of hard to say no to that. After much cajoling, I managed to talk Kurt into borrowing one of my swimsuits so his precious clothes wouldn't get wet. But, of course, he couldn't walk to the pool house with the trunks on like a normal person. No, he had to be all done up as usual and change when we got there.

OK. Look. Kurt and I may be doing the friends thing, but I'm not blind. I know he's hot. It's also been winter the whole time we've known each other. The least dressed I've ever seen him is a couple times during his nightly moisturizing routine with that gray off the shoulder sweatshirt he wears. And, well, it might be kinda nice to get a chance to see what's underneath everything.

So, I'm standing on the deck in my trunks and a t-shirt when Kurt comes strolling out of the locker room looking better than anyone in a cheap pair of navy swim trunks has a right to look. He's cruising the deck like it's runway in my stupid bathing suit and a simple white tank and my mind just goes blank.

He's… gorgeous. His neck is so long and leads down to his toned shoulders and arms. And then there's the chest. It's broader than I thought and just so nicely defined without being overly muscled and it all tapers down to his tiny waist. I'm staring and I know I should stop, but I can't. My hands are itching to reach out, but I can't. He's not mine to touch.

He's breathtaking.

He sits down in one of the chairs furthest from the pool with his bag, pulls out a magazine and plops a pair of sunglasses on his head like he's at the beach. It should look ridiculous given the actual situation, but it's just so endearingly Kurt that I can't help smiling at him.

He finally looks up and catches my eye and smiles back. He then quirks his eyebrows a little when I don't break the gaze and I finally blush and turn back to the conversation I was having with Wes and David to find them both staring at me, their eyebrows up to their hairline.

"What?" I say, trying to shrug it off.

Wes just clears his throat and discretely looks down slightly.

Oh, shit.

Yeah, um, bathing suits don't really leave much to the imagination. I quickly strip off my t-shirt and jump in the pool to cool off.

I'm trying to keep calm, but inside I am totally freaking out. We agreed to be just friends and after the whole Jeremiah debacle, I'm not actually sure I'm ready for a relationship of any kind. And Kurt is just too important to me to risk messing something like that up and losing him from my life entirely. And not to be shallow, but to finally be able to see the body that has been hidden under bulky sweaters all winter is making me rethink the whole friends thing.

I swim around for a little bit, chatting to some of the guys in the pool and agree to a game of pool volleyball later. As soon as I've calmed down enough, I hop out and grab my towel before I head over to where Kurt is sitting. No one else has come over to talk to him and that makes me a little sad. I thought he'd really started making friends.

"Hey," I say dragging another chair over next to his.

"Hey, yourself," he replies, not looking up from his magazine. "Having fun?"

"So far. There's gonna be a game of pool volleyball later," I stammer out, suddenly awkward and unsure and completely aware of the fact that I'm mostly naked at this point. It doesn't help that Kurt keeps darting his eyes over in my direction, but never really looks at me. This shouldn't be so hard.

"Sounds like fun," he says sharply flipping a page of the Vogue he's reading.

"You could join us," I offer.

He finally looks over at me and seems to think I've gone insane. "Sports in a pool? Really?"

"Yeah, you're right."

"Well, as a former Cheerio, I will definitely be cheering very enthusiastically for your team to win whenever the game begins."

"That sounds great," I say sincerely.

I don't know what comes over me next, but I just can't resist anymore and I know I can't just reach out and touch him. I get up from my chair, intending to return to the pool for a some more swimming, and fake slipping on the deck to land on him, my hands spread over the firm muscles of his chest. I manage to sneak in a bit of extra groping as I stumble to my feet.

"Shit. Sorry," I apologize.

"It's fine. Are you okay?" he asks genuine worry on his face.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good," I smile and make my way back to the pool. I drop my towel on the deck and smoothly dive back under water. I am such an idiot.

It only gets worse from there. It's like, now that I know what's there, everything just seems to accentuate his amazing body. His shirt seems to cling tighter, the stupid uniform jacket that no one looks good in is suddenly impeccably tailored to show off his broad shoulders and slim hips. We've always been more touchy-feely with each other than guys usually are, but I find myself letting my hand drop lower when I sling an arm over his shoulders to give him a quick pat on the chest; my hand lingers on his bicep when I drag him with me to show him something.

And if that's not bad enough, my dreams are filled with disturbingly explicit and erotic dreams. In my favorite one, if I can call it that, we're back at the pool party and Kurt actually decides to join us in the water. He strips off the tank top, revealing acres of smooth, pale skin and well defined muscle. He dives neatly into the pool and comes up like some kind of sea nymph, the water sluicing off his body in slow-motion. He wastes no time and swims right up to me, pinning me against the side. He leans in to whisper in my ear and I can feel myself tensing, not yet wanting to touch what is barely inches away. His hands settle on my shoulders and, suddenly, his chest is right against mine. I close my eyes and sigh in contentment. He tells me to open my eyes, so I do, and find him leaning even closer, tilting his head to one side. He's almost close enough; I start to lean forward in response and then… my alarm goes off. Every. Single. Time. It's starting to get really… frustrating, if you know what I mean.

A few weeks have gone by since the party, and I'm heading to his room to pick him up for Warblers' practice. Regionals are just around the corner and we've been working really hard to step-up our game. I knock on his door and hear a muffled "Come in!" in response. I open the door and am greeted by the sight of Kurt turning from his closet, wearing only his pants, which are actually still unbuttoned and unzipped. He has a clean shirt in his hands and there's just… skin. My brain just stops working. I stop dead in my tracks, my mouth drops open and I just stare. I don't know what else to do. It's seriously like one of my ridiculous dreams come to life.

"Sorry," he says as he starts to pull the shirt on, oblivious to my current crisis. "I spilled salt-water on myself during chemistry and my shirt got all crusty. I'll be ready to go in just a second."

I nod vaguely, watching mutely as he covers himself back up. I want to stop him, I want to tell him not to do that, but I'm frozen to the spot.

"Blaine?" he asks quietly. "Are you okay?"

I snap out of whatever fog I've been in and immediately turn away, trying to hide the blush I know is coloring my face.

"I, um, yeah," I mutter. "Yeah, it's fine. I'm fine, I mean."

"Wow, okay," he whispers.

"What?" I ask, leaning against the wall by his door.

"I didn't realize my being in a state of undress would offend you so much. Next time I'll make sure I'm fully clothed before I let you in."

His reply finally gets me moving. How could he possibly think that? I turn around and am across the room in barely a second. I don't stop until I'm right up in his space, my hands rest on his where he's still buttoning his shirt, stopping his action. He just looks at me with a confused look on his face.

"No, Kurt," I whisper. "That's the last thing I'm thinking."

"Then what the hell, Blaine?" he asks, throwing up his hands on frustration, leaving me clutching his shirt. "I'm so confused right now. You say you just want to be friends, but you're always in my space and touching me and I just don't know what you want."

There's really nothing I can say to excuse my behavior. I know I've been sending mixed messages, but I just don't know what I can say or do to get is out of the box we had put ourselves in. So, I do the only thing I can think of and kiss him. I'm worried for a second that I've completely over-stepped my boundaries and then he's kissing back.

And it's amazing.

His hands come up to tangle in my hair as mine creep up to finally touch his bare skin. He sucks in a breath at that and I seize the opportunity to deepen the kiss. He responds beautifully, opening wide for me and moaning as our tongues meet. I undo the few buttons he'd fastened on his shirt and busy myself with touching everything I can. There's not an ounce of fat on him anywhere and I growl into the kiss as I flex my fingers into his skin. He turns away to gasp as my fingers brush over one his nipples. I lean in to kiss and lick and his neck and am rewarded with a whimper of pleasure as he sighs my name.

All thoughts leave my head and the only thing I can concentrate on is getting him out of this shirt completely and lavishing his skin with the attention it deserves. I push gently to get him walking backwards and pause when I feel him hit the bed. I tug the shirt off his shoulders and he lowers his arms, letting me strip it off him. I drop it on the floor and step back to just look, now that I can. A faint blush begins to color his skin and he looks uncomfortable, moving to cross his arms over his chest.

"Don't," I say, reaching out to lower his arms. "You're gorgeous." I kiss him deeply once more before stepping back to pull off my own jacket and shirt. Stupid uniforms. Way too much clothing. My hands fumble at my buttons and I'm just about to say "Fuck it" and rip them off when Kurt's hands are on mine, pulling them away. He steps in close and finishes undoing my shirt for me. He kisses me shyly when he's done, still unsure of himself.

The gravity of the situation hits me then. Ten minutes ago, we were just friends and now we've kissed and are standing half-naked in his room. A lot has happened and I need to know he's on the same page as me and I'm not just taking advantage of him.

"Only what you want," I say, cupping his cheek and pulling him back to me.

We both gasp as our skin touches for the first time. I can feel his breath quicken as his hands wrap around my waist.

"I want," he replies, leaning his forehead to mine.

From then on, I know we're in this together. I can't contain myself any longer and attack his mouth. His kisses are glorious and I can't believe no one's kissed him before now. It's a shame, really. He's so responsive and eager and refreshingly bold. He's not afraid to let his hands roam as mine do. I gently push back again and he goes down to the bed willingly. I'm on top of him immediately, settling against him easily. It's amazing how well we fit together. I nudge his cheek and he turns his head, giving me access once more to his delectable neck. My hands trail down his arms from his shoulders and I gently grab his wrists and move his arms up over his head, wrapping his hands around the headboard. I pull away slightly to look at him and make sure this is okay. His eyes are wild, the pupils blown wide and he nods in acceptance. I kiss him again in reassurance before finally moving down to the rest of his body that's become my downfall.

I kiss and lick and nibble at every inch of skin I can reach. Licking a nipple has him arching up into me for more, biting at his rib cage earns a gasp and squirm. Soon, his skin is peppered with small red hickeys and teeth marks. And I put them there. He's writhing constantly now and as soon as I feel his hard dick press into my hip, I'm just done for. I surge back up to his mouth, sucking his tongue into my mouth. I grab one of his thighs to pull him even closer as I grind down against him. He rolls his hips in response and there's no way this isn't going to end with two pairs of very messy trousers. There's no sound in the room except our panting breath and moans of pleasure. I feel his hands back on my skin, his fingernails raking lightly across my back and I just can't take it anymore. I bury my face in his neck, moaning his name as my orgasm overtakes me. He arches up against me a moment later, my name a whisper on his lips as he rocks against me once, twice before he's done and spilling into the tight space between us.

I go limp against him, panting harshly in his ear. I can feel his hands lightly stroking my back and I shiver in response. The cool air of the room is suddenly harsh against my sweat soaked skin.

"Blaine," he says quietly. "As lovely as this is, you're not exactly a lightweight."

He shoves gently at my shoulder and I shake myself out of my stupor enough to move off him. I don't move far, though, and rest my head on his chest, just above his heart, feeling it beat strongly against my skin. My hand seems to have a mind of its own and returns to gently stroke the skin in front of me. It's mine now, I think to myself. I turn my head slightly and resume my earlier kisses in a much gentler manner. Now that I'm allowed, I can't seem to stop touching him. I latch on to one his nipples and suck on it gently.

"Blaine," he whimpers and, god, I would do anything to keep hearing him make that sound.

He rolls towards me, bringing my mouth back to his and throwing a leg over my hip. We're rocking together once more and before I know what's happening, I feel him come again. And, wow, that's pretty amazing.

"Sorry," he says laughing lightly and burying his head in the pillow.

"Don't," I tell him, turning his face back to mine to look him in the eyes. "Don't be ashamed. You're beautiful and wonderful and amazing and I'm going to make sure to tell you that every day."

"You promise?" he asks uncertainly.

"As long as you'll let me," I reply.

He smiles in response and kisses me lightly on the lips before rolling over onto his back.

"Ugh, I'm all sticky," he finally says.

"Who cares? So am I.."

"I guess you are," he says looking at me with a smile.

"Oh, shit!" I say, noticing the clock over his shoulder.

"What?" he asks, sitting up in alarm.

"We're late. Practice started fifteen minutes ago!"

"Shit!"

We scramble off the bed, grabbing whatever clothes we can.

"Wait!" he cries. "We can't go to rehearsal like this," he says, gesturing at the obvious wet spots on our pants.

"Crap," I say panicking for a moment. "That's okay. My room is on the way. You change and I'll run back now to change and we'll be there in two minutes."

He nods in response, taking a deep breath to calm down. This is not how I saw this ending, really. Well, not that I foresaw it even starting. I kiss him deeply, but gently before pulling away. My hand finds his and I give it a gentle squeeze.

"We'll be fine," I reassure him.

"Right," he agrees. "But if Wes yells at us, I'm telling him it's all your fault."

"Actually," I reply with a laugh. "It's Mr. Richter's fault for having salt-water in class today."

"Well, then, I'll just have to tell him thank you on Monday."

I laugh and kiss him finally one last time before running back to my room. My head is swimming with the images and sounds of what had just happened. Kurt's just so… everything. I can't believe I never saw it before. And not just his body, now that I know. But he's smart and funny and witty and can be a total bitch when he needs to be. And I just… I love him. I do. I can't believe I didn't figure it out sooner. I feel a huge grin creep on to my face, but I don't care and I don't care who sees. I'm in love with Kurt Hummel and I can't wait to tell him.

THE BEGINNING