Author's Note: Hello! Hope you're enjoying the fic (: Your reviews are so lovely! Thank you guys so much! I'm sorry I've been kind of busy lately and haven't been able to update as quickly as I would like to. I will try not to have such a large gap in between updates. Thanks for sticking with me anyways ^.^

Warnings: Language, references to violence and sex

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee!

Risk It All

Chapter 9

Kurt's hands were sliding up his arms, leaning in close, whispering words against his lips, intoxicating him. His slender fingers were trailing teasingly along the blade of his shoulder, pushing away his clothes, letting them drop carelessly onto the floor. The heat of Kurt's palms against his bare skin was making him shiver, slowly moving up until they were stroking across his chest. He could feel the subtle breath against his cheek before Kurt's lips were on his, kissing his mouth with a tenderness that melted all the bitterness within him, filling him with such wonderful warmth. He was groaning softly in response, helpless with pleasure, and Kurt's tongue running slowly along his lower lip, nipping at it playfully. His own hands were moving to link themselves around Kurt's neck, drawing them closer and closer until—

There was this ringing…what was that ringing?


Was someone calling his name?

"Dude, wake the fuck up…"

David? What the hell was he—


Blaine sat up in alarm, whipping his head around in confusion. His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest, and he could feel a thin layer of cold sweat causing his white cotton uniform shirt to cling tightly to his body and bead into small droplets on his forehead.

Damn, that one was vivid.

"Dude…did you sleep through the entire fucking class?" Wes smirked, raising an eyebrow at his bewildered friend.

Blaine glanced around to see an empty classroom, slowly blinking out of his dream-like haze and back to reality. The room was empty except for their teacher, who was adjusting his toupee at his desk, staring intently at his reflection in the computer monitor, and ignoring the three students still lingering in the back of the classroom.

"Jesus…" Blaine breathed out, raking his fingers through his hair, and took a steadying breath in an attempt to compose himself.

Yeah, that one was really vivid.

"Don't sweat it bro, i'm sure he didn't go over anything important or anything…" David reassured his friend with a laugh, clapping his hand on the shorter boy's shoulder.

"David, you're not even in this class…" Wes deadpanned.

David shrugged.

"C'mon, let's go grab lunch…guards are probably starting to line the halls, and I'm seriously not in the mood to get questioned for being seen with you two bastards in an empty hall again…" Wes said, rolling his eyes as he moved toward the door. "Besides, Mickey says he has something to say to us at lunch."

Blaine made a move to get up, but his breath hitched as soon as he felt an uncomfortable tightness in his uniform slacks.

Damn it, he cursed silently to himself.

David followed after Wes who'd already disappeared out into the hall.

"You coming, Blaine?" David called over his shoulder.

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

"I'm not hungry!" Blaine yelled quickly after them, standing up awkwardly, wishing the damn uniform blazers were just a little longer so that his hard-on wouldn't be so fucking obvious.

"I'll just see you guys fifth!" Blaine called, his voice cracking a bit.

"Whatever!" a pair of muffled voices chorused, already halfway down the corridor toward the dining hall, "We'll fill you in later. It's probably nothing anyways!"

Blaine groaned as he stood up—now painfully aware of his erection—and cautiously made his way out of the classroom. He ignored the odd looks the balding teacher was now giving him as he made his way past his desk and uncomfortably sidestepped out the door, and into the main hallway.

He ducked past two guards that were walking down towards the dining hall, and snuck down the corridor back toward the dorm rooms.

He shook his head, and took a few steadying breaths as he climbed the stairs up toward the third floor dorms.

Contradicting thoughts and emotions had begun to cloud his mind, making Blaine feel tired and irritated. The feelings were getting damn near impossible to ignore, and he knew he couldn't fight them much longer. Even his fucking subconscious was thinking about Kurt.

That was the fourth Kurt related dream he'd had this week alone—and to be blatantly honest, they were really making it more and more difficult for Blaine to even look at Kurt now—or look away, more like it.

The fact that they stayed in the same fucking room together practically every day made things all the more hard on Blaine…literally.

Blaine had to admit he'd caught himself staring at Kurt quite a bit over the past few days—okay a little more than a bit. Whether it was during class, passing through the halls, at meals—it was nearly unavoidable when they were both at the dorm together. It was slowly driving Blaine insane. He was constantly finding his eyes wandering over to Kurt's side of the room, unconsciously peering over to tall slender figure usually perched on his bed, or lounging in an armchair flipping through his magazines or doing homework.

Blaine had caught himself staring on several occasions. Kurt even caught him staring the other day. Blaine winced a bit as he flashed back to that uncomfortable moment.

Jesus Christ were those jeans fucking painted on or something? Blaine had thought to himself. He was beginning to wonder just how Kurt even managed to wriggle himself into pants that tight in the first place—it just didn't seem humanly possible.

His outfit hugged every curve of Kurt's body, accentuating his slender figure. His grey shirt hung low enough to show off his collarbones, and then trailed down to line the firmness of his torso. Blaine could even see a small strip of Kurt's exposed skin peeking out as the shirt rode up from the slightly compromising position Kurt was lying on his bed, reading through his history textbook.

The way he was stretched out, lying on his side was extremely distracting.

Blaine wasn't even aware of how long he'd been staring until he caught Kurt's eyes shift upward, and meet his.

"What is it?" Kurt asked, propping himself up and shooting Blaine a questioning look.

The two of them had settled on somewhat civil terms since their incident last week. And though things were far from friendly, neither of them were really up for the tense, hostile thing they'd had going on before, and to be honest, they were both probably too tired to keep it up anyways.

"What?" Blaine asked absently, his eyes still trained on Kurt.

Kurt glanced down at his shirt, and back up at Blaine.

"You've been staring at me for the past half-hour," Kurt replied, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

Fuck…had he been staring that long?

"Oh," Blaine replied dumbly, not knowing what exactly to say in this situation, "It was—I don''s nothing..." he murmured, and turned away, picking up the book he'd had abandoned beside his pillow.

"Blaine?" Kurt called out, tilting his head curiously, "Are you—are you okay?"

"I'm fine, everything's fine." Blaine replied quickly, pretending to be engrossed in his book.

He could still feel Kurt's eyes on him, but he refused to look up and meet them.

"Okay…" Kurt said slowly, glancing at Blaine one last time before turning back to his homework.

Blaine shook the thought away, still feeling embarrassed about the whole incident, and finally rounded the corner of the end of the third floor hall.

He pushed open the door roughly, shedding his blazer off, casually tossing it on a chair, and began to loosen his Dalton Academy tie. He rolled the sleeves of his white button up shirt up to his elbows, and collapsed onto his bed with a groan, his hard-on still straining through his trousers.

This was so hard...

He tried to shove it away, like he usually did—generally with a cold shower or some off-putting images of that time he accidentally walked in on his grandmother while she was taking a bath—but by this point his head had become way too muddled to resist the pull on his body. The shockingly vivid images of his dream flooded his mind once again, and he gulped down a throaty swallow. He closed his sleep-deprived eyes, and let out a soft moan as the image resonated back into his mind. He succumbed to them quickly, almost too tired to put up a decent fight and too captivated by the fantasies to ignore them.

He was hard...

Blaine would be lying if he said he didn't indulge himself in a sexual fantasy every now and again, but this one was different; Kurt was different. It wasn't one of his tall, tan, hard bodied fantasies he'd grown accustomed to. In his head, Kurt was exactly how he should be, with his soft chestnut hair, bright blue-green eyes, soft pink lips…that diva-like smirk gracing his familiar features—it was a look he hadn't seen in a while, and he sort of missed it, he'd always found it rather sexy, to be honest. And his body...well, he had no idea if his imagination matched the subject, since Kurt was still too shy to even think about undressing with Blaine present in the room, but he guessed he must be close, judging from the tightness of the many outfits he saw Kurt wear.

The images of hot breath against skin, and fingers trailing down a slender body began running through Blaine's mind once again, and he inhaled a shaky breath as his hand shifted lower.

He was too far gone to listen to the rational voice in his head and realize what exactly he was doing; and any whispers of doubt were kicked aside as the sensitive spot under his stomach twitched, and he hastily unzipped his uniform slacks, pulling them down to his thighs, and unbuttoned the bottom buttons of his dress shirt. Keeping his eyes firmly shut and focusing only on fantasy-Kurt's lips, he grabbed his hard length below his navel, wrapping his fingers firmly around the base of his cock.


Blaine needed this. He'd needed this for awhile—but he'd never actually allowed himself to give in, to surrender to his forbidden desires…until now—and at this point, he didn't give a flying fuck.

In his head, Kurt's hand had wandered down his thigh as he pressed light kisses to his jaw—Blaine groaned and he tightened his fist and began to pump away his tension. It had been weeks since he'd felt this release and he knew he wouldn't last long, but he didn't care. He didn't give a shit that his head was full with forbidden thoughts of Kurt—his roommate Kurt. It didn't matter that the boy was the reason behind his lustful strain right now, nor did it matter that in his fantasy, Kurt was now straddling him, hips grinding against Blaine's as he leaned down to suck little bruises down Blaine's neck, slender fingers tangling themselves into his own curly dark hair.

That image sent him over the edge, and a husky sigh-come-roar thundered out of his throat as the hot fluid splashed across his abdomen. His eyes fluttered open and fantasy-Kurt faded from his mind, leaving him satisfied—if only for a moment—and panting like he'd just ran a fucking mile. His heart was pounding hard against his ribcage as he tried to ride out the afterglow, blinking away some beads of sweat that were tucked between his long eyelashes.

"Holy fuck…" Blaine breathed out, sitting up against his headboard, feeling rather flushed and lightheaded from the intensity of his orgasm.

He lifted his hips a little and pulled his slacks into place, zipping them back up and leaned over to his bedside table to grab a few tissues to wipe the come off his stomach. He swung his legs over the bed, hunching over as he dragged a hand down his face.

He let himself sit there for a few more moments, before finally pulling himself up on shaky legs and attempted to fix up his uniform.

He could hear a distant sound of the lunch bell ringing, signaling that it was time to drag his ass through two more hours of pointless classes.

He took one last look at his slightly disheveled self in the mirror, attempted to straighten his lopsided tie, and made his way out the door.

Kurt maneuvered his way through the halls toward his fifth period class, trying to make his way through the sea of navy and blue blazers and avoid all the hulking boys and heavily tattooed delinquents shoving past him.

He'd noticed Blaine hadn't been at lunch again today, which was odd because it seemed like he was always attached at the hip with his two pals, David and Wes. He felt a twinge of worry at Blaine's absence—not that Kurt was looking or anything, but he'd noticed a different boy at the trio's usual table today, the three of them talking in hushed voices.

Kurt sighed, and pulled his bag tighter around his shoulder.

Things were getting exhausting for him. Though the schoolwork at Dalton was very remedial—even in comparison to McKinley, which was really saying something—it was tiring for Kurt to pull himself through the semester of school all alone. He missed his friends, his freedom to wear what he wanted, he missed Glee club, his family…and putting up with Blaine's weird hot and cold personality wasn't exactly making matters easy.

Kurt didn't even know how to act around him anymore. They weren't exactly friends—if they ever were considered friends, but at least they were somewhat civil.

Kurt had considered applying for a roommate transfer, hoping that it would perhaps alleviate him from the awkward uncomfortable tension that was constantly putting up with around Blaine. He pushed the idea away almost immediately though. I mean—what would he even write in the "reasons for transfer" part?

While other students could say their roommates were excessively loud, obnoxious sleepers, drug dealers, or were plotting to murder them—Kurt's would simply say oh I think I've fallen in love with my intense, withdrawn gay roommate who appears to be involved in some violent gang outside of the school and intently refuses to return the feelings.

Kurt stopped abruptly, feeling his heart stop in his chest.

—Wait a minute. Did he just say he was in love with Blaine?

Kurt had never actually admitted that to himself before. He'd never even let himself ponder the possibilities of that before. He was so used to just pushing his feelings away, telling himself it wasn't going to happen, that it was a ridiculous hope, that he didn't stand a chance. He was so used to hiding away his feelings, too tired of chasing after boys who'd never chase him back.

Kurt took a deep breath, and moved out of the busy hallway and leaned against the nearest wall.

But despite it all, all the cruel words, all the shed tears, Kurt knew that that wasn't Blaine. It'd been a while since he'd seen Blaine even remotely in a good mood, but he hadn't forgotten.

He remembered that mischievous smirk, the bright hazel eyes, and the way blaine loved to tease. The boy who'd once listened to him talk about his dark past, without any judgments, and had told him to stay strong, and have courage.

He remembered the broken boy sitting on the bathroom floor, body covered in blood, desperately pushing his pride away to let Kurt help him.

Kurt remembered Blaine, the one person in this entire school who'd seemed to care about him, acknowledge his existence. The one person who'd come to his rescue, when no one else did.

Kurt wasn't sure how, or when exactly, but somewhere along the way…he'd fallen in love with Blaine freaking Anderson.

Blaine was absolutely exhausted by the time the final bell rang, and he stumbled absent-mindedly out of the sixth period classroom after Wes and David.

It seemed his sleepless nights were finally beginning to catch up with him, and after his lunchtime activities, followed by two hours of the most boring classes he's ever had to sit through, he was surprised he didn't fall asleep again.

"Blaine!" Wes hissed, shooting his friend a look over his shoulder, signaling him to follow him.

Blaine contemplated just ignoring him and head back to his dorm and sleep, but the urgency in Wes's voice swayed him otherwise.

"What?" Blaine asked, ducking around the corner after Wes, David trailing not far behind.

Wes took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak.

"Not here..." David murmured, before his friend could say a word, his eyes locked on the group of students passing by, shooting curious looks at the trio.

"Oh my god, what the hell is it?" Blaine asked in irritation, leaning against the hallway wall lethargically, and feeling around his pockets to see if he had any cigarettes left.

Wes sighed and looked anxiously around the hall, now crowding with even more students. A few of them blatantly lingered nearby, with obvious intentions to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Blaine spotted a pair of guards looking suspiciously at them a few feet away, and groaned, shoving his pack and lighter back into his pocket. The three of them really weren't supposed to be spotted coercing anymore, either. The guards were fucking minions of the she-devil herself, and they'll probably report it to Harvey as soon as they get the chance.

"Fuck it..." Wes muttered, letting out a breath, and shaking his head. "Just stay in your rooms tonight, I'll leave a note or something. And I'll go talk to Mickey again, get more details..."

And with that, Blaine watched Wes turn on his heel and walk in the opposite direction, shooting equally menacing glares at the guards whose eyes trailed after him.

"Stay in our rooms tonight…" Blaine repeated sarcastically, turning to David, "He acts as if we have actual plans…"

David shrugged.

Blaine noticed he was much, much quieter than he normally was. He was scared, blaine could see it on his face. Did something happen at lunch that he wasn't yet aware of?

"Well that was a waste of time..." Blaine deadpanned, though there was a trace of anxiety in his tone, "I swear to god if this ends up being just another threat or rat speculation…" Blaine shook his head in frustration. He was sure his friends were getting more and more paranoid by the day.

"Yeah..." David replied, glancing over at his friend, "You—you think it's something big then? Like…you think this is it?"

"Let's hope to God this is it…" Blaine muttered, "I'm about to fucking drive myself insane with all this pointless waiting."

Blaine shook his head and gave his friend one last look before turning away and headed down the opposite direction back toward the dorms.

"Kurt, dear," the soft voice called, shaking Kurt out of the blank trance he was in, staring idly at his open magazine fashion magazine. He felt a gently hand rest on his shoulder, and he turned around to see the librarian smiling sweetly at him.

Kurt had come to the library right after school as he usually did—mainly to get whatever little homework he had to do finished, and work on putting together his new spring wardrobe.

"Oh, sorry Mrs. Davenport," Kurt murmured, rubbing at his tired eyes, "I think my mind sort of just wandered off for a moment, can I help you with something?"

The older woman chuckled, "I really don't understand how a nice young man like you got yourself into a place like this."

Kurt shook his head.

"Yeah, well, it's the ones that seem nice that end up doing the really freaky stuff," he replied with a soft smile.

The librarian chuckled.

"Well, it's nearly five o'clock, dear," Mrs. Davenport reminded him, glancing to the clock to the wall, "Almost time to go. Are you nearly finished with…um…?" The librarian tilted her head as her eyes glanced over the open magazine on the table.

"Selecting my spring wardrobe?" Kurt finished for her, looking down at the open magazine. He pointed to a small roll of stickers he'd been using to mark which outfits he'd decided on getting.

"Oh is this what that is?" Mrs. Davenport asked, adjusting her glasses and taking a closer look, "My…men's styles sure have changed since I was young, haven't they?"

Kurt chuckled, "Well, not many men have my spectacular fashion sense."

The librarian smiled.

"Um, actually, would it be too much trouble if I stayed a little bit longer?" Kurt asked hesitantly, "I'm almost finished, I just…there's sort of a reason I hang out here after class instead of the rec areas or my dorm."

"Roommate troubles?" The librarian guessed.

"Things are just a little…tense…" Kurt replied, shifting his eyes away.

"Well, I have to get home, or Horace will complain into next week about having to wait for his dinner again—but here," The librarian took a small keychain with the library key hanging off it from her pocket, and handed it to Kurt, "Just lock up when you're finished. I trust you Mr. Hummel."

Kurt looked up at her with grateful eyes. "Mrs. Davenport, thank you so much. I really could use an evening to myself. And I promise I'll be out and locked up in like an hour. I just wanted to finish skimming through these other catalogs and I'll be out."

"Sounds fine, dear." The librarian replied, gently rubbing Kurt's shoulder before gathering up her things, and made her way out.

Kurt gave her one last little wave before she disappeared out the door.

He took a deep breath and tried to focus his tired eyes back on his magazine. He hadn't exactly been sleeping too well the past few days, and the stress of choosing the perfect spring wardrobe with his limited budget was starting to get to him. The tension with Blaine wasn't exactly helping either, and it was hard for Kurt to concentrate back at their dorm.

Kurt rested his arms on the library table, and laid his head down, letting his eyes flutter shut, and let his mind finally rest in the calm serenity of the Dalton Academy library .

The library was quiet and warm, and somehow he found his eyelids getting heavier and heavier…

Maybe he could just rest his eyes for a little bit—then he'd get right back to flipping through Armani's spring line.

Kurt yawned and nestled against his arms, and felt himself gently drift off into sleep.

Five hours later, and Blaine was pacing back and forth in their dorm room.

Kurt always came back at five o'clock, always. The fact that he was now pushing eight was starting to worry Blaine.

Where the fuck would he even be? The library closed at five, and the guards began to line the halls at seven, right after dinner—which Kurt had also been absent for—and if Kurt had somehow managed to slip out to pick up some more catalogs or a new pair of jeans or something, there was no fucking way he was going to get back on campus…not the normal way, at least.

Blaine sighed and planted himself on one of the chairs in the center of the dorm, rubbing his hand over his tired eyes.

Kurt wasn't exactly a helpless person, Blaine was sure of it. He'd seen when Kurt got angry, and the way he snapped when someone pushed him the wrong way. Hell, he got in here for pushing a bully down a fucking flight of stairs. But Blaine couldn't help but picture that moment with Scarface weeks ago, and how much pain Kurt had been in, collapsed on the floor, blood dripping from his mouth. Blaine would never forget how terrified he'd been when he saw him there—and it was something Blaine never wanted to see again.

And now, Blaine had no fucking idea where he was. What if he'd picked another fight? This part of Westerville wasn't exactly filled with friendly do-gooders. It might actually be safer within the walls of Dalton than it was outside. At least there were guards to keep things moderately in control.

Blaine glanced at the door again.

God, where the fuck was he?

Kurt had been driving Blaine crazy for weeks now. His emotions all fucked up over Kurt—which was something he hadn't felt in a long, long time, and never as strong as this. Kurt was different than any person he'd ever met in his life.

Blaine liked his dry sense of humor, and the way he always seemed to light up a room when he walked in. He loved how on some days his eyes looked blue, while other days a pale shade of green. And now, it seemed even Blaine's body was physically pining over Kurt—which was much harder for him to ignore.

Blaine anxiously stood up and began pacing the floor again, raking his hands through his hair as he glanced at the door every now and again.

He'd spent the afternoon contemplating what he'd do with the situation, not able to come up with a single solution to his problem—except ignoring it, which was definitely doing him wonders right about now.

Blaine glanced over to the clock on his desk, and sighed.

Was he worrying over nothing? Had Kurt just decided to skip dinner and go take an ungodly long shower? Perhaps he had to go home for some reason and just didn't bother to come back to the dorm to get his things?—Wait no. Kurt never went anywhere without his nightly facial routine stuff, which Blaine could plainly seewas still sitting atop his dresser.

Blaine knew he shouldn't be angry, but he wished Kurt could have at least given him some sort of warning. He knew he really didn't deserve it, but a nice heads up would have been nice.

He hated just sitting around waiting. That's all he ever did now-a-days. Wait.

He growled and folded his hands behind his neck, feeling more and more impatient, the worry building up in his chest.

Damn it, Kurt. Where the hell are you?

Kurt opened his eyes slowly, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the now blindingly bright light in the library.

Oh crap.

Kurt bolted up, slightly panicking as he glanced out the windows to see that night had fallen and it was probably way past curfew by now.

Kurt stuffed all his magazines into his bag and hastily slung it over his shoulder. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and felt his heart skip a beat as he noted the time. He stuffed the phone back into his pocket and quickly stumbled toward the door, trying to fish Mrs. Davenport's key from his bag as fast as possible with fumbling fingers.

He poked his head out of the main library door, looking around to see if there were any guards surrounding the library—naturally there were none.

Kurt let out a breath of relief and silently slipped out of the library, and locked the door behind him.

Luckily there was absolutely no guards anywhere near the east wing where the library was situated, so it was easy for Kurt to get back to the dormitories.

He swiftly made his way up the three flights of stairs, and rounded the corner toward his room at the end of the hall.

Part of Kurt hoped that Blaine would be asleep by now, or at least lounging on his bed pretending to be asleep.

Since his sudden revelation this afternoon, Kurt wasn't sure how he'd even act around Blaine anymore, and he certainly didn't trust himself to be too equipped to handle all the hostile tension between the two of them after such a long day.

Kurt took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

He spotted Blaine immediately, perched on the edge of his bed.

"Blaine?"" Kurt called out, surprised his roommate was still up, and squinted over at him as he tried to see in the dark room, "...You're still up?" he murmured—mostly to himself—and closed the door behind him.

Kurt strained to see the dark figure sitting hunched over on the bed, hands tangled in his hair.

"Fucking finally," Blaine muttered, pulling himself up, and glaring over to where Kurt was standing in the doorway. His eyes were burning bright in the dim room as he moved towards Kurt, eyes narrowed at the dazed boy in the doorway.

"Where the hell have you been?" Blaine growled, "Do you know what time it is?"

The flames of hazel in his eyes glowed with such an intensity, it caused Kurt's heart to leap and race a little faster in his chest.

Kurt swallowed nervously, a bit taken aback by the intensity in his eyes.

"I was just at the library. I think I accidentally fell asleep and I…um—" Kurt trailed off, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion as Blaine kept walking closer towards him.

"Um, why were you—" Kurt began to ask, taking a cautious step back, feeling his back press up against the closed door.

Blaine cut him off, and without warning, grabbed his face and snatched his lips into a desperate kiss. He sighed shakily against Kurt's mouth, finally releasing the torturous feelings of desire he'd had pushing at him for days, the rush of release now flooding his body.

"Don't ever do that again…" Blaine whispered, pressing their foreheads together. Kurt barely had time to force a nod before Blaine was catching his mouth again, bring their lips together for another kiss.

To say Kurt was alarmed would be an understatement. Once again, Blaine had completely caught him off-guard, and he was unsure of how to react. He could feel Blaine's soft lips move against his as he remained pinned to the door, feeling the sparks of electricity pulsing through him as felt the familiar sensation of the other boy's mouth on his. And though every bit of logic and reason in his mind told him to stop, every fiber of his being told him not to…and truth was—Kurt really didn't want to.

His response was timid and cautious, but he didn't push Blaine away, and that was enough for Blaine, and he shoved Kurt back roughly, unable to help himself. Kurt tried to keep up with him, kissing back, shivering as he felt Blaine's teeth graze over his lower lip, clutching onto his arms with trembling fingers. Blaine's hands drifted up his cheekbones and into Kurt's light brown hair, coaxing a moan from him that made Blaine's hips twitch.

Blaine pressed himself against Kurt as much as he could, dragging his fingertips down his neck, shoulders, and ribs to settle possessively at his sides. He groaned as Kurt ran his fingers down his neck, making him shiver in a way he'd never felt before, and Blaine wanted more—desperately craved for it.

Blaine tore his mouth away and moved down to Kurt's throat, pleasantly surprised when Kurt rolled his head back and sighed in apparent bliss. Kurt's grip on his strong arms tightened as Blaine found a sensitive spot on his jaw that made him moan loudly, tantalizing Blaine further.

With The pounding of his heart roaring in his ears, Kurt forgot how to think, and simply let himself feel. He lost all sense of everything except the warmth of Blaine's mouth on his, and the way Blaine's fingers around his jaw, slightly tilting his face to deepen their kiss. It was feverish, and desperate, and nothing like Kurt could have ever imagined in his wildest dreams.

"Tell me to stop," Blaine mumbled against Kurt's skin, barely audible as he trailed nips down Kurt's collarbone.

Kurt swallowed hard but didn't utter a word to sway Blaine otherwise. He was too lost in the immense heat and passion, in these newly discovered sensations that were completely foreign to him. At this point, stopping was the last thing Kurt ever wanted to do. He was vaguely aware that Blaine was starting to undress him, pulling off his blazer, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt with incredible speed, while talented hands were felt tugging at his pant-line, fingers fumbling with the belt. He heard his blazer fall to the floor with a soft thud, just as Blaine was lifting his head to steal his lips again, his warm and eager fingers pushing Kurt's shirt open, warm hands running up his smooth stomach and up towards his chest. Kurt's hands dropped to rest against Blaine's chest, his fingers tracing curiously at his collarbone and neck.

"Tell me to stop," Blaine hissed out, more urgently this time, still nipping at Kurt's jaw.

Blaine's hands grazed upwards until his thumbs stroked the bare skin of Kurt's torso, Kurt's shirt was barely hanging off his shoulders by now, his fingers slowly running down Blaine stomach, eliciting a deep growl from his throat.

Blaine felt himself harden as Kurt's hands went lower. Kurt was unsure if it was the right move, but he did it anyways on heated impulse.

—That was when everything finally dawned on Blaine, smacking him hard in the face, and pulling him back into reality.

"TELL ME TO STOP!" Blaine screamed, pulling himself away from Kurt so quickly and so frantically he nearly stumbled to the dorm room floor, his eyes dark, and his lips a deep shade of red from their heated kissing.

Kurt felt all his limbs go weak, and he slid gracelessly down the door, studying Blaine intently and anxiously, trying to pull his shirt closed as best he could with trembling fingers.

Blaine looked broken and battered, like all his energy was being used to refrain himself from going back to Kurt, to keep himself from kissing him again, to keep himself from touching him again. Kurt slowly raised his head and they locked eyes—both pairs scared and open wide.

"Why didn't you tell me to stop?" Blaine growled accusingly. "Are you fucking stupid, Hummel? How far were you even going to let that go?"

Kurt was still in a state of stunned shock, his mouth slightly parted open, and stared blankly up at Blaine. Kurt slowly pulled himself up from the ground, leaning against the door for support. He was scared. Not only because of what he'd just willingly, more than willingly done, but also because even he didn't know how far he would have gone just now. He was too caught up in the moment, in the raw emotion, the desperate want and lust—any sort of rational thought had completely flown out the window.

"I—I…um…but you—" Kurt stuttered, his mind not quite able to grasp what had just happened yet.

"Fuck…" Blaine murmured to himself, raking his fingers through his hair, letting his eyes drop to the floor, "What are you are doing to me, Kurt?"

"I didn't…Blaine, wait—" Kurt was still at quite a loss for words, but Blaine, with one more half-glance at Kurt, peeled his eyes away, and quietly turned and walked over to the opposite side of the room. He braced one arm against the wall, and rested his forehead in the crook of his elbow. Something about Blaine's posture stripped him of his usual intensity, and tough attitude, exposing his vulnerability. His defeated silhouette leaned against the wall, his figure barely outlined by the few beams of moonlight streaking in through the open window.

"You're driving me insane Kurt…you're in my head all the time, and I don't know what to do…" Blaine muttered, any anger drained from his voice, and he turned his head back to Kurt, looking at him with wary bloodshot eyes, "God, I don't know what the hell is the matter with me…"

"Blaine, stop." Kurt's voice was surprisingly firm, "It—it's okay. We can talk about this. Can you just stop pushing me away for one second and just talk to me?"

Kurt felt stronger and bolder than he usually did—it was probably the sudden burst of adrenaline still coursing through his veins after that rather heated moment just now.

Blaine turned around, and walked toward Kurt, stopping just a few feet short. His expression was serious, but not at all angry. His eyes flickered to the doorway for a split second, before lifting his eyes back to Kurt.

"Kurt, you don't know me. You don't know what I've done." he replied bitterly, looking down at the floor, "Do you think that was okay? What we just did?" Blaine's eyes were, burning into Kurt as he looked at him, impatiently awaiting an answer.

"I—I don't know Blaine," Kurt answered honestly, "It was sudden and overwhelming. But…" Kurt trailed off and met Blaine's dark, hazel eyes, "But I—I like you, Blaine. If that wasn't obvious…and I think you and I—"

"—No," Blaine cut off quickly, shaking his head. "There is no you and I. We can't. We just…we can't."

"What?" Kurt repeated, his voice dangerously low, his eyes narrowed in Blaine's direction, his voice cracking from emotion. "Are you seriously going to pounce on me and say that?"

Blaine looked incredibly tired, his resolve slowly starting to shatter.

"Sorry, I just—I'm really sorry." Blaine murmured, "I shouldn't have done that…any of that. It was a mis—"

"Don't—" Kurt cut off, "Blaine, can you honestly look at me and tell me what just happened meant nothing to you? Can you look at me and tell me all of it, meant nothing to you?" Kurt's voice was getting louder, his body boldly inching closer, "Do you think I can't see you looking at me all the time? That I don't remember that first kiss and the ridiculous jealousy you had when my friends came to drop me off last week?"

Kurt's eyes were blazing as he moved closer to Blaine.

"I know you Blaine, and this can't mean nothing to you, so just tell me what you're so damn afraid of!" Kurt demanded without so much as a flinch.

Blaine's eyes twitched for a moment, gleaming with frustrated tears he refused to shed, his hands balled into tight fists, and he quickly looked away.

'I'm terrified of hurting you…' the words hung on Blaine's tongue.

Blaine swallowed and cleared his throat.

"You don't know a thing about me Hummel…" he hissed, his voice slightly strained.

Kurt inched closer boldly.

"Then tell me."

Blaine swallowed, and took a steadying breath.

"I can't…"

Kurt let out a frustrated sigh and crossed his arms impatiently.

"You know what? Fine." Kurt snapped, his endurance wearing thin, "It's getting late, and I'm tired, so fine, Blaine. We'll just continue to ignore the enormous, uncomfortable but completely necessary conversation we need to have—just like we have for weeks. Because it's been working just wonderfully for us, right?"

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sigh as Kurt pushed past him and crossed the room to his side of the dorm, gathered a few of his toiletries and towel, and without another word, or so much as a second glace back to Blaine, walked out the door and disappeared out into the hall.

Blaine's eyes followed him out, and he stared at the empty space where Kurt had just stood just a few seconds before, his words still echoing loudly in his mind. His eyes lingered around for a bit, before he finally focused his attention to the small, white piece of paper at the doorstep, which Kurt had promptly stepped over on his way out to the bathroom.

Blaine swallowed and slowly walked over toward it. He'd noticed it being slipped under the door mid-way through his and Kurt's heated argument.

He bent down and picked it up, hesitantly unfolding the paper and read what was on it, the words written in Wes's familiar and urgent scrawl.

He stared down at the paper, which appeared to have been messily ripped out from a notebook.

He read it, and then he read it again.

His heart had stopped beating, he was almost sure of it.

A million emotions hit him at once, and he turned and sat against the door, reading and re-reading the message over and over again until the words were practically imprinted in his brain.

Friday, 10pm, Main and 5th Ave. Plan's going into action, be prepared. We only have one shot at this. We can't fuck this one up. David and Mickey are getting the word out and I'll get the news to J.


Blaine took a deep breath and pulled himself up and stumbled toward his bed. He ripped up the paper and tossed the remains into the wastebasket, and sat down on the springy Dalton Academy mattress, letting his head sink into his hands.

Two days. And then it would all be over.

Blaine shook his head as the news slowly began to sink in, and let himself fall back against the pillows.

Two fucking days.

Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. I know…more angst right? My apologies. This is the last(ish) episode with all this angst...The next chapter is aliiitle bit angsty, but it gets better after that :D

Leave a review about what you think (: