So this started as a random drabble for a pic of Chris that showed up on Tumblr and became a spontaneous collaboration between myself and my British lover Charlotte (youmovedmekurt on Tumblr/Charlotte-LOVE- on FF). We're continuing writing on Tumbr but at the request of our readers have decided to post it here as well! Updates to come soon! :D

Kurt smirked, eyes trained on the new transfer student, with his bowties and gelled back hair, leaning over to pick something up off the floor of his locker. He was too put-together for his own good.

Tossing his cigarette on the ground, disregarding the scandalized looks a few students threw him, and crushing it with the heel of his boot, Kurt moved towards the other boy, rolling back his shoulders and loosening his hands with a flick of his wrists.

"Hey, new kid," he said, stopping behind the other boy, who jumped and banged his head of the shelf of his locker as he hurried to straighten up.

Kurt suppressed a snicker, cocking an eyebrow as the boy stood, looking mildly flustered as he rubbed the back if his head. He froze when his gaze fell on Kurt, eyes widening very slightly as he took in his tousled hair, tight jeans and sleek leather jacket.

"Oh," he said, blinking as if the clear his head. "Hello. Who are you?"

"Kurt Hummel," Kurt said, ignoring the hand the other boy extended to him. "You're Blaine right? Blaine Anderson."

The dark-haired boy nodded, the smallest of frowns creasing his brow as he let his hand fall to his side.

"Were you smoking?" he said, a mix of curiosity and disapproval clear in his voice and features.

"Yeah," Kurt said, shrugging as he leaned against the lockers, picking absently at his fingernails. "So?"

"It's very bad for you," Blaine said matter-of-factly."

Kurt snorted. "Thank you, mother," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm sure your mother wouldn't be pleased either," Blaine said.

"Well, she's dead so I wouldn't know, would I?" Kurt said in a bored voice, trying not to blanch at the mention of his mother.

"Oh," Blaine said, suddenly quiet. "I'm sorry." Kurt shrugged again.

"It's been a long time," he said, glancing up to see Blaine's almost pitying look. "I don't need your sympathy," he said, a slight edge to his tone. "So you can stop looking at me that way."

Blaine looked taken aback, perhaps even affronted. "Okay then," he said, holding up a hand in surrender. He straightened his books in his arms and shut his locker. "I suppose I'll see you in class?"

Kurt blinked in bewilderment at the dismissal. "Oh," he said, trying to regain his mental footing as he met Blaine's gaze. His eyes somehow caught every throw of light from the florescent bulbs overhead. "Yeah…whatever. See you later."

Blaine gave him a final appraising look. "You really shouldn't smoke," he said before turning and striding off down the hall.

Kurt stared after him, frowning in consideration as the sudden urge to toss out all his cigarettes for Anderson's approval hit him. Now wasn't that intriguing?

After a day of researching (Kurt refused to think of it as 'stalking', despite what Puck said to him when he'd asked the older boy to steal Blaine's file from the office at lunch), Kurt had discovered many things about the boy.

He was apparently in Kurt's Calculus class - which gave Kurt a sudden desire to attend the lesson he hadn't touched in three months - and had transferred from some posh all-boys private school.

That explains the hair, Kurt thought to himself as he watched Blaine leave his final class of the day and hurry down the hallway.

"Hey, Blaine," he called, taking pleasure in the way Blaine's tight t-shirt clung to his chest as he turned to face Kurt.

"What?" he asked sullenly. Kurt got the feeling that the new kid's first day hadn't gone too well; then again, a day at McKinley High never went well.

"You sing?" he asked. It was a pointless question to him - he had already read in Blaine's file that the boy had been the lead of his previous Glee Club, but he didn't want to admit to Blaine the lengths he'd gone to to do his research.

Blaine frowned. "I'm sorry?"

Kurt smiled at the boy's endearing politeness before repeating slowly, "Do you sing?"

"I- Um… Yeah, I do. Why?"

"Glee's today and we need voices. Besides, I'd like an excuse to stare at your ass in those pants for another hour."

Kurt loved the way Blaine flushed at Kurt's words.

"Don't I need to audition?"

"Yeah, so you better think of a song quick. Come on, choir room's this way."

He walked away, Blaine following close behind. The choir room was still deserted when they arrived; the rest of the kids were most likely at their lockers or being held back in class (the latter applying mainly to Puck).

Blaine didn't say a word until Kurt collapsed into one of the hard plastic chairs.

"You are in Glee Club?" he asked.

"Why the tone of surprise, Anderson?"

Blaine raised an eyebrow as he eyes very obviously stared at Kurt's intentional disheleved style. "Doesn't it hurt your bad boy reputation?" he said sarcastically.

Kurt snorted. "I don't care what other people think of me. I like singing, so I'm here."

Blaine was cut off from replying by the arrival of the other Glee Club members. Most only glanced at Blaine before going back to their conversations, but Puck - after seeing Blaine - pointedly smirked at Kurt and mouthed 'stalker' as Kurt flipped him off. Blaine, thankfully, was too engrossed with inspecting the other people in the room to notice their silent exchange.

Mr. Schue entered last, pausing when he saw Blaine standing awkwardly by the piano.

"That's Blaine Anderson," Kurt drawled from his seat. "He's auditioning today."

"If that's okay?" Blaine tacked onto the end of Kurt's statement.

Mr. Schuester smiled warmly and nodded. "Of course it's okay, we're always happy to welcome new members."

"Especially when they look as fine as you," Santana said. Kurt glared at her.

"Um…"

Mr. Schue hushed Santana as he took a seat at the side of the room. "Just start whenever you're ready."

Blaine smiled uncertainly, took a deep breath and opened his mouth and-

Oh. My. Fucking. God, were the only words Kurt's brain was able to come up with. Because Blaine Anderson - cute, polite, put-together Blaine Anderson - had a voice like sex. He was deep and smooth, confident without being annoying or cocky and- fuck, did he just growl?

As the song drew to a close, Kurt found himself reduced to a body of cravingwant, no, need. He needed Blaine Anderson's tongue down his throat ten minutes ago.

There was a brief moment of silence before the room burst into applause and Blaine smiled his adorably happy smile and Kurt was reminded of the other side to Blaine Anderson, but that only led to the memory of Blaine glaring at him in the hall and telling him not to smoke. Blaine was pretty hot when he was being assertive, too…

"I think I speak for all of us when I say welcome to Glee, Blaine!" Mr. Schue said, breaking through Kurt's lustful haze.

Blaine thanked him and walked quickly to the seat next to Kurt's, accepting the praise and compliments the rest of the Glee Club threw at him modestly.

He caught Kurt's eye. "So, what did you think?" he asked; Kurt could just hear a faint hint of cockiness in his voice, like he knew exactly where that song had put Kurt's mind.

Kurt suppressed his inner desire and shrugged coolly. "You're good, but you'll have to do a lot of work to be anywhere near as talented as me."

Blaine laughed. "You'll have to show me what you can do so I know what I'm working towards."

Kurt just tipped his head, mentally planning the performance he was going to put on for Blaine.

While Blaine paid attention to Mr. Schue's description of that week's assignment, Kurt studied his profile, knowing that one way or another, that boy was going to be his.

He didn't focus much on Glee that day—which was odd given that it was usually the only thing he cared to put any substantial amount of time into—as he was much too busy focusing on Blaine, studying the way he sat ramrod straight in his seat, hands placed carefully in his lap as he absorbed every word Mr. Schue said. He was like a sponge, it seemed, an incredibly sexy sponge.

When practice was finally over, Kurt hurried to snatch up Blaine's bag before the other boy to reach it. Blaine gave him a half curious, half angry look and Kurt simply grinned.

"Just being nice, new kid," he said with a wink. "I'll carry it for you."

Blaine narrowed his eyes, looking vaguely suspicious. "Alright," he said after a moment's scrutiny. "Just…don't get it dirty. It's—"

"Prada," Kurt finished for him. "I know." He caught Blaine's astonished look and grinned. "I've got a bit of an eye for fashion. Don't let the hair and attitude fool you."

Blaine nodded slowly. "Oh, so you're aware you're an asshole?"

Kurt's lips parted in surprise; he quickly shook it off, laughing and shaking his head. "Funny," he said, hitching Blaine's bag higher on his shoulder. "Come on. I swear I won't hurt you or try and convert you or anything."

"Convert me?" Blaine said, frowning as he followed Kurt out of the choir room. Kurt let the other boy get half a step ahead of him so he could chance the occasional peek at his ass.

"To being a badass like me," Kurt said, smirking.

"I didn't realize being so arrogant made you a badass," Blaine said bluntly.

Kurt felt a stab of annoyance as he turned to Blaine. "You've got some nerve," he said. "You barely know me."

"Yes, and you barely know me," Blaine stated pointedly. "And yet you're trying to get in my pants."

"What?" Kurt said, trying to sound nonchalant and amused even though he could feel a faint flush creeping up his cheeks at Blaine's frankness. "I never said that."

"You told me you wanted me to join Glee Club so you could stare at my ass," Blaine said dispassionately. "If that doesn't scream attempted seduction, I don't know what does. It was very poorly executed, by the way. Your methods of seduction, I mean."

Kurt gaped at him, slack-jawed and disbelieving. He cleared his throat, trying to think of something clever to say in response; his mind was suddenly moving much slower than usual. "Well what do you suggest I do then?" Kurt said as they pushed out through the double doors and out into the parking lot. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and his lighter, a force habit at this point.

The filtered end was in his lips as he flicked the lighter to life. He stopped at the sight of Blaine's look of mild disgust.

"Oh, right, sorry," he muttered, stuffing the lighter into his pocket and shoving the cigarette back into the pack. "Forgot you don't like that."

"It's nauseating," Blaine said simply, a reproving frown on his face.

"Right," Kurt said absently. "So, you never answered me. What do I have to do?"

"Are you trying to ask how to seduce me?" Blaine said, sounding faintly amused as they stopped at his car, a sleek black BMW. "That's a little forward of you, don't you think?"

Kurt shrugged, sighing. "I'm a forward person," he said resignedly. "It's a curse. Just like my incredible hair and amazing skin. It's hard sometimes, being this perfect."

"Hmm," Blaine said, looking doubtful. "I'm sure."

"So what do you want?" Kurt said, leaning against Blaine's car casually and shrugging off the expensive leather satchel to pass back to the other boy.

Blaine accepted his bag and pulled out his keys, expression unreadable. "How about you ask me on an actual date," he said, unlocking his car and sliding into the driver's seat.

"Alright," Kurt said, internally triumphant. "Me. You. Movies. This Friday. I'll even buy the popcorn. And I'll even let you grope me in the back row."

Blaine chuckled.

Spurred by this, Kurt continued, "It's the perfect place to see if I can get you to growl like you do when you sing," he said, winking. "Or maybe even scream."

Blaine smiled. "Tell you what," he said, closing his door and rolling down the window so he could continue to talk to Kurt. "When you've pulled your head out of your own ass, we'll talk, okay?"

He turned the key in the ignition, flashed Kurt another winning smile as he shifted the car into gear, and drove off, leaving Kurt staring after him with a jumble of emotions—namely indignation and an increasingly piqued sense of interest—swirling around in his brain.