OK, so hi. Welcome to this story, I hope you like it :)

This is AU, set sometime between Never Been Kissed and Silly Love Songs. This is how it should have happened :P

This chapter pushes the T rating about as far as it'll go, with language and whatnot, but the rest are K+ with hints of T. If that makes sense.

I have tried to use American phrases and terminology, but I apologise in advance for any mistakes. My excuse is that I'm British, and I'm sticking to it.

I don't own Glee, blah blah blah. You know the drill.


Blaine leant forwards, closing the space between them, and pressed his lips against Kurt's. It was chaste and sweet at first, but was quickly deepened - Blaine didn't know (or really care) who by. He just wanted to savour Kurt's taste and the feel of his skin. He couldn't think why they hadn't done this before, why they hadn't been doing it forever.

Kurt moaned a little, tentatively pressing his tongue against Blaine's lips. He parted them willingly, granting the other boy entrance and sighing slightly as Kurt's tongue explored his mouth.

Blaine reached up and curled his arms around Kurt's neck, pulling him closer; until they lay along the couch, Kurt pressed on top of Blaine, legs tangled together.

Kurt pulled away first, pressing kisses along Blaine's neck and jaw as Blaine caught his breath. He gasped involuntarily when Kurt's mouth grazed his collar bone; Kurt grinned impishly at him and concentrated on that spot, encouraged by the sounds he elicited from the boy lying beneath him. A mark blossomed, deep purple, as he continued to nip and suck at the skin there, alternating gentle bites and kisses.

Blaine groaned, unable to take anymore, and recaptured Kurt's mouth with his own, flipping them over without breaking contact. He kissed Kurt fiercely, shivering at the ragged breaths he drew from him. He let his mouth roam over Kurt's skin, trailing kisses along his jaw and nibbling the lobe of his ear. Kurt's breathing hitched and he pulled Blaine's mouth back to his, kissing him hard.

They moved together, each loosening the other's tie. Dalton blazers hit the floor with muted thuds; and Blaine slowly popped each button on Kurt's shirt, kissing a blazing trail along his chest and down his stomach, leaving plum-hued marks of his own on Kurt's soft skin.

Kurt pulled off Blaine's shirt, fabric sliding over skin, and they met in a kiss once more; but this time it was softer and sweeter, tender even as Kurt slid his hand towards the waistband of Blaine's trousers, fingers fumbling on the cool metal of the button...


Blaine woke with a choking, shuddering gasp, sweat soaking his skin and the sheets around him. He lay still for a moment, breathing hard and realising the precise implications of the dream he had just woken from.

He liked Kurt.

Like, like liked Kurt.

Fuck.


Blaine sat on the edge of his bed, feeling like his head was about to split in two. It had been a very long day: he'd stared at Kurt constantly every second they were together, memorising him. He couldn't believe there were so many things he'd never noticed about Kurt before: the little bounce in his step when he walked; the precise clarity of his eyes, and how they seemed to shift between green and blue, depending on the light and his mood; the way he always tried to hold a laugh in, stretching out the moment before it bubbled up anyway, a split-second later.

It had been so tiring, noticing all these things about someone he'd thought he'd known so well, and realising that he found all of them beautiful. He felt like such an idiot when he thought that it had taken such a long time (and such an...insistent dream) for him to realise it.

Still, he had realised it, eventually at least; but, though he was fairly certain he was the only person who had noticed how beautiful Kurt was (the only other out gay guys that Kurt had any contact with (as far as he knew) were Nick and Jeff, and they only had eyes for one another, though they'd been dancing round each other forever), he couldn't quite quash the fears that, maybe, there was already someone else. There was so much he didn't know about Kurt, after all - a boyfriend wasn't completely impossible.

The numerous new discoveries and hard-to-shift anxieties had exhausted Blaine; but he owed his headache to Wes and Wes alone. The council member had seemed distracted during that afternoon's Warblers meeting, even to Blaine, who hadn't been paying much attention himself (at least to anything other than Kurt); and he'd seen Wes looking at him carefully, scrutinising him, more than once.

He felt certain that Wes knew how he felt about Kurt, especially once he remembered that Wes' room was right next to his. He groaned, dropping his head into his hands as he imagined all the noises he was sure had escaped him as he'd slept, and how audible they were sure to have been through the thin walls that separated each room. Only an obnoxiously loud knock on the door drew his attention back to the here-and-now.

"Hey, Blaine, you in there? It's Wes."

Of course. Who else would it be? Blaine stood up slowly and opened the door.

"Hi Wes, come in, be my guest. I'm fine, thanks for asking," he said tonelessly as Wes pushed past him into the room and threw himself down on the bed with a creak of tortured bedsprings.

"Thanks, I will. You all right?" Wes asked, head cocked to the side, looking worriedly at his friend.

Blaine tapped his temple. "Headache."

Wes rummaged in his pockets for a moment, extracting a packet of painkillers and offering them to Blaine, who hesitated.

"Why do you have these in your pocket?"

"David's been really stressed lately, what with mid-terms and everything, and he gets headaches when he's stressed," Wes explained, still proffering the box of ibuprofen.

"Thanks." Blaine took it, popped two tablets from the packet ad swallowed them with some water from the glass on his bedside table. The water tasted stale, left over from the night before, but it did the job.

"Now," Blaine said, setting the glass on the side again and turning to Wes. "What did you want, anyway?"

"I, uh, wanted to have a word."

"Of course you did." Blaine sighed, sitting next to Wes on the bed.

"Well, last night, I couldn't help hearing some...interesting sounds coming from your room, and I was just wondering...who was it about?" Wes asked, trying not to think about how this was kind of weird, asking his friend who he'd been dreaming about.

Blaine felt his face flush scarlet, but decided to play dumb a little longer. Though he had anticipated this, he was mortified that Wes had heard him like that; and he wasn't going to own up that easily. "Who was what about?"

Wes raised an eyebrow, but decided to play along. "Your dream, Blaine. Last night."

"What dream?"

"There's really no need to be ashamed, Blaine. It happens to all of us. So who did you dream about?"

"Who said I dreamed about anyone in particular?" Blaine asked, still reluctant.

"Blaine, just tell me who the dream was about," Wes said, clearly losing patience.

Blaine groaned and buried his face in his hands, the name he uttered muffled and incomprehensible.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

"Kurt, OK?"

Wes smiled smugly, nodding. "I thought so."

"What? You knew? How?" Blaine spluttered, though the sinking feeling in his stomach told him he already knew how.

"I was watching you during the meeting this afternoon. You were pretty obvious."

Blaine gave another groan. "Who else knows?"

"Not sure," Wes admitted. "I spoke to David about it, and I reckon most of the others have probably worked it out. They're not stupid, and you weren't subtle."

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, peeking at Wes from between splayed fingers.

"Oh, God, no!" Wes laughed. "Kurt's as clueless as you are!"

"Huh?"

Wes clapped a hand over his mouth. "Oops," he said guiltily, "forget I said that."

Blaine didn't pursue the comment; he had too much to think about without worrying about something obscure that Wes had let slip accidently.

"You're sure Kurt doesn't know?" he asked, looking nervously at Wes.

"I'm sure," Wes replied patting Blaine's shoulder reassuring.

"Thank God."

"What, you're not going to tell him, ask him out?" Wes stared at him, bug-eyed.

"Uh, no," Blaine said, looking back at Wes as if he was crazy. "One, he almost certainly doesn't like me like that; and two, I don't want to...pressure him or anything. He's been through enough."

Wes sighed. "Well, fine, whatever. It's your choice," he said. "Anyway, I'd better get going."

Blaine stood too and opened the door to let him out. "Bye Wes, see you later."

Once Wes had gone, Blaine closed the door and slumped against it, sighing deeply. This was not good, this was really not good. Wes never gave up that easily, not unless he already had a plan to get his own way. Blaine had practically heard the cogs whirring as he'd shown Wes out. This was not good. At all.

He slid down the door, two fingers pressed against each temple. At least his headache had gone - though he didn't think that would last very long.


So there we go. I hope it wasn't a complete load of crap ^-^

I have the rest of this written, but if it's bad, then I won't bother continuing. As a result, your reviews and comments are appreciated. Let me know if you want to read the rest, or if I should go die in a hole for ruining Klaine.