“It’s your turn, baby!”

Sugar, with flushed cheeks, smudged red lips and a manic grin, was pointing right at Kurt. His heart started to beat faster and he glanced over to the boy he’d been trying to hook up with all night.

Hunter was Sugar’s cousin. He was a college freshman, skinny and tall with sandy blond hair and designer jeans. Sure, he was a little stand-offish, but he was hot and worldly and supposedly available. Kurt had dealt with much worse.

He smiled and cocked his hips to the side flirtatiously, trying to show his interest without seeming too desperate, as he had been all damn night. Sugar scanned the room carefully and let out a hum of surprise. Kurt closed his eyes and held his breath, and she yelled her choice for the entire room to hear.

“Yo, Anderson!”

Kurt’s breath left his body in a wheeze. His shoulders slumped heavily as he watched Blaine Anderson, one of the nerdiest kids at McKinley, turn from his conversation in the far corner, where he’d been huddled around his fellow geeks all night.

“You bitch,” Kurt hissed as she brushed past him. “He’s wearing an actual sweater-vest.”

Sugar just giggled obnoxiously and made her way across the room. She grabbed Blaine by the sleeve of his unfortunate ensemble and started pulling him quickly and forcefully, before he knew what was happening.

When she returned with Blaine in tow, Kurt got a proper look at him. He had on glasses that were absurdly thick and an olive green sweater-vest and…dear god, his bowtie appeared to have a comic book character on it. He seemed twitchy and nervous, a deep blush now staining his cheeks.

He wasn’t exactly hideous, but he was as far from Kurt’s type as he could possibly get. This was, without a doubt, going to be the longest seven minutes of Kurt’s life. He heaved a great sigh of resignation.

“I guess we should get it over with.” He opened the closet door and held it out.

Blaine looked around helplessly, still immobilized in Sugar’s sticky clutches.
“Wait, w-what’s going on here?”

Sugar snorted a laugh. “You. Hummel. Seven minutes in heaven, starting in 3 – 2 -"


With that, she freed his arm and shoved him stumbling into the closet. Kurt glared at her as he closed the door behind them.

Aside from a small sliver of light at the bottom of the door, it was totally dark. That was probably for the best, though it made the stillness that much more palpable. Kurt could barely see or hear anything, aside from Blaine’s heavy breathing. Ugh.

“Look, I obviously don’t want to be here. And I’m sure you’d rather be rolling a nine-sided die in a window-less basement somewhere.”

“Six-sided,” Blaine replied breathlessly. “Or, well, it depends on what-"

“Oh my god, I really couldn’t care less. Let’s just…do what we have to do. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m a prude, even if it’s with you, so just kiss my neck or something. I bruise like a peach anyway.”

There was dead silence. Blaine’s breathing had evened out, and he definitely wasn’t anywhere near Kurt’s neck.

“Well?” Kurt snapped, his own voice high and strained to his ears.

Blaine didn’t reply. There was a rustling of fabric and metal and the squeak of a hand sliding against the wall.

“I know we have seven minutes, but I’m thinking at this rate it’s going to take you six minutes just to reach me. ”

Blaine stayed silent. Kurt thought about grabbing him and taking care of everything himself, but then he heard shoes shuffling against the carpet, and he could tell Blaine was closing in.

“That’s more like it,” he said quietly, feeling the slightest prickle of discomfort at having someone he didn’t know or like so awkwardly close to his body.

He waited, his shoulders tensed up and his back stiff. They stayed that way, in silent anticipation, a few seconds too long.

Then Blaine placed a delicate kiss to the corner of his jaw. It was almost nice. His lips were soft and warm. To Kurt’s surprise, he didn’t feel like crawling out of his skin.

He thought about throwing the guy a bone and encouraging him a little, but then came another kiss, a bit heavier and lower on his jaw. It was followed by another, and another, all soft and gentle and reverent, in a way that made Kurt’s breath hitch.

The next kiss was pressed open-mouthed against the column of his throat. He instinctively craned his head back a little to give easier access, and was rewarded with a soft press of lips just below his Adam’s apple. He swallowed automatically and felt the vibration of a pleasant hum from Blaine’s throat.

It was all kind of sweet and bizarrely intimate. Part of him wanted to reach out and run his fingers through those curly locks. Something like affection pulsed through him.

Except that it absolutely did not, because he was ridiculously out of Blaine’s league and that’s the way things were meant to be. It doesn’t matter how soft his lips are. His clothes are nursing home chic. His bowtie has a cartoon on it.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by a light, teasing lick across the center of his throat. It wasn’t quite enough to turn him on, but the echoed rumble of a groan bubbled in his chest. Blaine left a steady trail of small kisses until he stopped at a particular spot and focused all his attention on it, sealing his lips to Kurt’s skin and sucking down. Kurt gasped and reached out to brace his hand against the wall as Blaine worked his lips and tongue over Kurt’s sensitive skin, alternately scraping his teeth there gently and laving the marks he left with warmth and suction. Finally, Blaine pulled off, letting out a deliberate puff of cool breath against Kurt’s kiss-wet skin and leaving his head spinning. Blaine tucked his head in the crook of Kurt’s neck and mumbled something.

“What?” Kurt said, surprised by how quiet his own voice sounded.

Blaine lifted his head to Kurt’s ear. “Pulse,” he whispered, and leaned down to kiss the spot he’d been attending to before capturing the plump lobe of Kurt’s ear between his teeth and worrying it in small strokes.

Kurt tried and failed to hold back a whine – he had sensitive ears – which Blaine instantly knew to exploit because he started nibbling and sucking and, oh god, exploring the shell of his ear which was going to be bright red for days, and Kurt was finding it impossible to hold down all the small sounds stuck in his throat.

He grunted his disappointment when Blaine pulled away. Blaine seemed to be going for his other ear, but he never quite made it there because their noses bumped, and just as quickly their lips were sealed together.

Kissing Blaine was – he’d never felt anything remotely like it before. It was fast and frantic at first, but soon became slow and languid and indulgent, and a warmth started to grow in his stomach that made him feel utterly out of control, his fingers flexing and scraping helplessly against the wall. When he thought Blaine wouldn’t get any bolder, he felt Blaine’s tongue lick across his lower lip. He moaned in surprise and parted his lips, relishing the smooth slide of his tongue against Blaine’s, dizzy with the warmth and smell and taste of him.

For a moment he forgot to breath. He pulled away with a small cough, and it took a second for him to remember where he was and what they were doing, and then Blaine’s forehead was resting against his, warm breath ghosting across his lips. Kurt sighed against Blaine’s lips and willed his heartbeat to steady, positive that the people on the other side of the door would be able to hear it, and tried to make sense of what was happening.

So. Blaine Anderson was great at making out. And he kept doing these really sweet things. But was that just the kind of person Blaine was? Or was there something else, something underneath the fumbling and heavy breathing and staring at Kurt from across the hallway at school?

And there, with Blaine warm and solid and so close, he started to seriously rethink his stance on dating below his McKinley social class. Or he probably would have, except that Blaine chose that moment to reach behind Kurt’s back and drag the back of his knuckles feather-soft from the top of his shoulders down the curve of his spine, like he was touching something precious. Kurt shivered down to his toes and whispered Blaine’s name in the darkness.

Blaine responded by nuzzling his nose and then kissing the top of his lip. They met in the middle this time, Kurt surging forward to capture his lips just as he leaned in.

Slick with sweat, Kurt’s hand slipped from its position and he hit the wall heavily with his back, taking Blaine with him. Their hips aligned and Kurt buried his hands in Blaine’s hair, letting out a small gasp of surprise when he felt Blaine’s hands (firm and shockingly large) grip his waist and pull their bodies flush together. Blaine swallowed down his moan and a second later, he pushed himself into another kiss with such force that Kurt’s head thumped into the wall. The pain barely even registered but Blaine pulled away, and Kurt chased his mouth desperately before he could waste time with apologies.

Blaine whined softly against him and Kurt pushed forward, trying to get impossibly closer. He wanted more. He wanted Blaine’s lips on every inch of his body. He wanted to feel Blaine’s bare skin warm and yielding against his own.

A sudden metallic sound pulled them apart on instinct. The light hit them so abruptly it made Kurt’s head hurt. They were met by a chorus of cat-calls, but his squinting eyes stayed trained on the boy in front of him, with rumpled clothes and full, swollen lips. His glasses had gone missing at some point and the face behind them was so very handsome, and it was boggling that Kurt had never noticed before. Kurt wanted so badly to just grab his jaw and pick up where they left off in front of everyone. Instead, he turned in a haze and took a few steps into the light at the sound of someone saying his name, and when he glanced back Blaine was bent over in pursuit of his glasses.

And holy what. Where had he been hiding an ass like that?

Well, his pants don’t really fit. At all. Probably hand-me-downs. Maybe he has a brother? This is an actual fashion tragedy.

Kurt was struck by the realization that he was actually curious about Blaine’s family. About why he chose to dress the way he did. And maybe he actually did want Blaine to tell him about which dice he had to use in his stupid games because Blaine’s voice was actually really hot, especially when it was rumbling low and thick in his ear.

A loud hum interrupted him and he noticed Santana, head cocked to the side and eyes narrowed in his direction. In an instant, he was gripped with panic. He worried for a moment that she could read his thoughts - that she could sense his growing interest in a socially forbidden fruit and was already planning to crush him like a bug under her heel. Then he remembered that it was her turn for the closet next, and he was supposed to pick for her. He looked around and chose very carefully among their fellow Cheerios. His plans for the upcoming year did not involve being stabbed, and as much as he thought that Santana’s threats were empty ones, he wasn’t going to be the one to test that theory.

Santana grinned and pulled the chosen girl, who looked both terrified and excited, into the closet with her. With a small jolt, Kurt realized that Blaine had gone back to his friends. His eyes fell on the back of a green sweater-vest and a mop of curly hair and his lips quirked for just a second. Okay, Blaine did look kind of cute like that, even if his clothes were ill-fitting and horribly mismatched.

Sugar came over and laid her head on his shoulder. “Aww, I’m sorry for doing that to you. But the look on your face when I said his name? So worth it.” She kissed him on the cheek and rubbed his arm. “I’ll make it up to you, promise. Maybe I’ll get you a hot date for the dance next week.” She waggled her eyebrows and moved away fluidly as someone else took her place, and for the first time in his party-going history Kurt wondered if the sheer number of people in the room was entirely unnecessary.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye to see who wanted his attention now. Oh, it was…Hayden? No, that wasn’t it. Hunter?

Hunter, standing there with dull, bored eyes, like it was taking so much effort on his part just to be there, breathing the same as air as a bunch of highschoolers. He tilted his head and looked to see who Kurt was staring at. A smirk spread across his lips. “Lucky little guy. I bet you rocked his world.”

Kurt’s heart skipped as Blaine’s back straightened. Blaine turned just enough to see Kurt watching him, the smallest hint of a smile springing to life and playing across his face. His eyes (stunning hazel) were big and bright, full of life and mystery.

Kurt rubbed his neck over the pulse point, over the bruise that was undoubtedly blossoming there, and let out a shuddering breath.

He nodded without looking away from Blaine for a second.