So here it is – my first attempt at a bad boy Blaine fic. I've only read like two bad boy Blaine fics ever, both of which were just smutty one-shots where Blaine was a bit of an asshole, so I thought I'd be different. For starters, this fic actually has a plot and is way longer than I originally intended it to be. But mainly my bad boy Blaine isn't really that bad, more misunderstood (hence the title). Also this is the millionth fic I've written that involves Cheerios Kurt. It's like an obsession with me, pay no attention.
Anyway, reviews would be lovely.
And I don't own Glee. I'm just making the characters do stuff.
Not So Bad
I've never been big on feelings and all that crap. They just get in the way. I've always been more of an 'instant gratification' kind of guy, to be honest. So everything that had happened since I got transferred to this new school was seriously unfamiliar.
For as long as I can remember I've always been seen as the bad guy. I was always in and out of detention, getting yelled at by my teachers and my parents for whatever reason. I hardly ever went to class because I just didn't care, but when I did I would always end up getting punished for something. It's funny though, because whenever I actually did any work my grades were always awesome, nothing ever lower than a 'B'. It confused the hell out of my teachers, but they just didn't get me and didn't even try. They figured that, just because I acted out and talked back, I had to be stupid. But there's a difference between being stupid and just not giving a shit.
I got into a lot of fights too, especially when it got out that I was gay. I already got a lot of crap for being so short, which I really didn't care about, but when all those Neanderthal jocks started calling me a fag there was no way in hell that I was going to just sit back and take it. Fuck all that 'take it on the chin' shit. If some ignorant asshole dared to start calling me a faggot and a fairy then they were getting a bruising. I've always been surprisingly strong for my size.
Eventually – inevitably, my father had said – I ended up in juvie for criminal damage. I trashed this guy's car because he was being a homophobic ass to me and his parents pressed charges. While I was inside I got into even more fights. A short, curly haired gay kid like me was an easy target, and if I hadn't stuck up for myself I'd have been someone's bitch by the end of my first day.
Once I got out my parents sent me to Dalton Academy, Ohio's most notorious (and expensive) all-boys reform school. It was kind of like being in juvie again, except that I got to go home at the end of the day, and they made us wear blazers and ties instead of orange jumpsuits. It was a little more mellow than juvie too. I didn't get into as many fights, I made some friends, and I even hooked up with a few guys. It was just sex, of course. I wasn't up for getting emotionally involved. That crap was more trouble than it was worth.
So now I'm at a new school for junior year. At first I absolutely fucking hated it at McKinley High. I got a detention on my first day because some douchebag jock chucked a slushie in my face as I was walking to my locker and, after asking him why the fuck he did it ("Dude, you're the new kid, which means you're fair game. Welcome to McKinley, dwarf!"), I punched the bastard in the face, giving him quite a spectacular black eye. I mean, come on, how else was I supposed to react to that? The guy threw a cup full of crushed ice and corn syrup in my face for no fucking reason. And yet I was the one that was given a detention when a teacher broke us up. Honestly. After that I knew I was going to hate it at this place.
But it was on that very same day that everything changed. After serving my detention after school I was walking past the auditorium when I stopped in my tracks. Someone was singing, and their voice was beautiful. It was soft and haunting and actually kind of... moving. I'd never really been moved by music before, unless you count the obvious pangs of nostalgia whenever I heard the Harry Potter theme tune. I mean, I could sing and play a bunch of instruments – my mother thought the creative outlet might straighten me out – but music had never been a big thing for me. It certainly never made me feel like this; like there was nothing else in the whole world other than this voice, this soft, velvety voice that actually made my heart ache. I needed to know who this voice belong to.
I snuck into the auditorium as quietly as possible, keeping to the shadows so I couldn't be seen. Up on the stage was the singer, and I was surprised to find that it was a guy. His hair was brown and meticulously styled, his skin was pale and creamy, his face was androgynous and somehow managed to be soft and sharp at the same time, and he was dressed like no one I'd ever seen in this school, form-fitting high-end fashion and skinny jeans that looked like they'd been sprayed on. I was too far away to see what colour his eyes were – blue or maybe green, I don't know. But his voice... oh my God. It was like listening to an angel. All I could do was stand there, watching him and listening.
"...but a room is not a house, and a house is not a home when the two of us are far apart... and one of us... has a broken heart..."
I'd never heard anyone sing with so much emotion before, like he meant every single word. The high notes he hit with ease gave me shivers. I sat on a chair right at the back, sitting low so that he couldn't see me, and just... listened. I had to stop myself from clapping once he finished singing. I sank even lower in my seat when I suddenly heard him speak.
"That sounded better, right?"
"Much better, Kurt," said a brisk girl's voice from the very front row. "Mr. Schue would be a fool not to give us both solos in the next competition."
The guy, apparently called Kurt, smiled and I actually felt my stomach do a weird little swoop, like when you miss a step on the stairs. The girl, who was small and had long brown hair and was kind of dressed like a kindergarten teacher, bounded up on to the stage and the two of them left arm in arm. When he turned around I couldn't help but notice that this Kurt guy's ass looked fantastic in those spray-on jeans. That was it for me. I was officially hooked. Maybe McKinley High wasn't so bad.
I decided on that day that I was going to make an effort. I mean, so far everyone in the stupid school had made me just want to torch the place. But I wanted this Kurt guy, I wanted him so bad even though we'd never officially met. He was gorgeous in the most unique way I'd ever seen, his voice was out of this world and I just wanted in them ridiculously tight pants. The next day I decided to learn more about this guy. Some might call it stalking, but I called it research.
But on Tuesday morning I got a shock. The next time I saw him he was standing at his locker, fixing his hair in the little mirror on the door... and wearing a cheerleader uniform. This guy – the guy with the beautiful voice that I couldn't get out of my head, the guy that I'd actually dreamt about last night – was a cheerleader. At this school they were apparently called Cheerios, and so far I'd only noticed the girl ones. Some of them had stared at me like they wanted to ravish me right then and there, but most of them had turned their noses up like I was something grossed they just trodden in. There had been a little group of them giggling their asses off when I'd gotten that slushie in the face on my first day. Unless movies were lying to me, cheerleaders were all shallow bitches obsessed with popularity and very little else. So maybe this Kurt guy was a total bitch too. Maybe I'd managed to fall for some bitchy twink who only dated shit-for-brains jocks and wouldn't give me the time of day. And I was not used to getting turned down. Back at Dalton no one ever turned me down.
I walked over to him and lent against the lockers, just looking him up and down. Bitchy cheerleader or not, he looked all kinds of smoking hot in that uniform. The track pants made his ass look even better than in his jeans and the top showed off his slender, toned chest and his surprisingly defined biceps. Even his forearms were sexy; covered in downy blonde hair and snow white against the bright red uniform. Damn. He finally noticed that I was right next to him and slowly turned to look at me with an arched eyebrow.
"Can I help you?" he asked. Yep, definitely a bitchy cheerleader.
"Maybe," I said with a little shrug, looking him up and down again. He was seriously hot, slightly taller than me as was pretty much everyone, and fucking gorgeous. Even this close up I couldn't tell exactly what colour is eyes were, but the look of contempt he was giving me just made me want to fuck him even more.
"You're that Anderson guy, aren't you?" he said. "Blaine Anderson?"
I smirked. "How did you know that?"
"You've been here five minutes and you're already famous," he said, sounding a little bored. "Everybody's talking about the little new kid that gave Dave Karofsky a black eye on his first day."
"Impress you, did it?" I said, my smirk getting even wider.
He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Please. Half the girls in this school might be falling for your clichéd bad boy image, but don't let the Cheerios uniform fool you; I'm not as easily amused. Acts of bravado don't really do it for me, and neither does your look. I mean, I wasn't aware that Baby Gap had a James Dean collection, but '1950s rebel' has kind of been done."
I laughed at his bitchiness and moved a little closer to him, still leaning on the locker. "So what does do it for you then, Princess?"
He glared at me as he slammed his locker shut. His eyes were blue. No wait... green. I really couldn't tell.
"If you're attempting to flirt with me, calling me 'Princess' isn't really the way to go."
"What do you want me to call you then, baby?"
"My name is Kurt," he said fiercely. "Not 'Princess' or 'baby', but Kurt. Kurt Hummel. And just so you know, you're wasting your time."
"Am I now?" Challenge accepted. "And why's that, Hummel?"
"I'm kind of spoken for, if you must know."
His cheeks were already a little rosy, but turned even pinker. It was adorable.
"I'm sort of... I mean, I'm seeing someone... I think."
I just arched an eyebrow at him. "And does this guy who you think you're sort of seeing have a name?"
"Not that it's any of your business," he said, narrowing his eyes. "But his name is Sam Evans and he's on the football team."
"Ooh, very original," I chuckled. "A cheerleader dating a jock? I've never heard that one before."
"Oh, shut up," he said, rolling his eyes again as the bell rang for class. "This pointless conversation is over. I have to go to Spanish."
He turned and walked away without another word. I wasn't even sorry to see him leave, since watching him walk away was so awesome.
For the rest of the week my research continued. I cut classes just to follow him to his and saw who he hung out with the most. It was mainly other Cheerios, this Latina girl and a blonde girl the most. He also spent a lot of time with this curvy black girl, and that girl I recognised from the auditorium. Further research told me that they were called Mercedes Jones and Rachel Berry, they were all seniors and they were all in the Glee Club. So that explained the singing. I'd seen him practicing with the other Glee kids in the choir room, as well as out on the field with the Cheerios. That research was particularly enjoyable. Most of the guys on the squad were mainly there for the lifts and stuff, but Kurt danced with the girls. And he was deliciously bendy. Hot damn.
Not so enjoyable was when I discovered who exactly Sam Evans was. He was blonde and muscular, with possibly the biggest mouth I'd ever seen. But he was really handsome in a 'wholesome, non-threatening jock' kind of way. Kurt always seemed a little flustered around him, but they didn't seem that... couple-y. That Sam guy was in Glee Club too, so they were together a lot, but he spent more time talking to his fellow jocks then to Kurt, and Kurt seemed to spend way too much time gazing at him with nauseating longing. You wouldn't think they were dating. You wouldn't even think they were fucking. But I could tell that they were. It didn't matter though. I still had a chance.
My suspicions were confirmed by my new friend, Quinn Fabray. She was about the only friend I'd made at this school. I met her under the bleachers when I went for a smoke while cutting class, she'd lent me a lighter and we got to talking. Even though girls don't do it for me, I'd have to be blind not to notice that Quinn was beautiful – or at least, used to be. Her hair was short and dyed bright pink, she wore a tone of eyeliner and had a nose ring. But she was still the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, like a Prom Queen's evil twin or a Punk Rock Barbie. I guessed that something bad had happened to her, but I didn't want to ask. Even the way she spoke was slow and breathy, like she was too exhausted to even get the words out.
"As far as I'm aware, Kurt Hummel and Sam Evans aren't like, boyfriends or anything," she said, after taking a drag from her cigarette. "They're just fucking, I think. Why do you care?"
"I'm trying to get with Hummel," I said, shrugging. "A nice hook up would take the edge off this shitty new school, but he said he was spoken for. But whatever, his guppy-faced fuck buddy doesn't scare me."
"There are other guys in this school though," she said. "You don't have to focus all your energy on Hummel. He's kind of uptight anyway. Typical cheerleader."
"The male population of this school is made up of ugly straight boys and closet cases," I scoffed. "I haven't got time for that shit. It almost makes me miss Dalton. I mean, it sucked there but at least the guys were attractive. Hummel's different to everyone else in this crappy school. He's hot, and I want me a slice of that fine cheerleading ass."
Quinn shook her head at me, almost smiling. "Whatever. Have fun chasing him."
I caught up with Kurt in the locker room at the end of the week, after watching a particularly hot Cheerios practice. That cheerleading coach was insane, but Kurt seemed to be the only one that she never really yelled at. Unfortunately when I got in the locker room he hadn't started changing yet, but at least he was alone – that particular practice had just been him and the girls.
"What are you doing in here, Anderson?" he said once he noticed me.
"Just saying hello," I said, checking him out before I could stop myself "No need to freak out about it, Princess."
"I told you not to call me that," he said with a glare, folding his arms. "Can you go away now please? I need to get changed."
"Don't let me stop you, baby," I said with a smirk. "Feel free to put on a show for me."
He rolled his eyes at me. "You're a pig, Anderson. Now get out."
"Off to meet your boyfriend, are you?" I sneered. "Going on a romantic Friday night date?"
His whole body stiffened and his cheeks went pink. "No, actually. Not that it's any of your business."
"Y'know, you said you were spoken for," I said, stepping closer to him. He took a step back. "But I'm not so sure. I think that trouty mouth Evans guy is just using you for an easy hook up while he gets comfortable in the closet."
He glowered at me, moving right back against the locker as I stepped closer.
"Sam isn't ready to come out yet," he said defensively. "And I'm just being respectful of his wishes. He'll be open about our relationship when he's ready, he promised."
"Oh, he promised, did he?" I said, standing right in front of him. I placed my hands against the lockers, trapping him between my arms. "Well he must be telling the truth then. Here's what I think. I think your precious Sammy Evans wanted to fuck you, but didn't want to admit that he's gay. So he's stringing you along, promising that he'll come out soon, and because he's so sweet and charming and handsome you just can't help but trust him. And of course, being a cheerleader, you think you have to get with a jock just to fit in, even if said jock is a total closet case that fucks you when you're alone and then ignores you at school. You're kidding yourself into thinking that you're happy, but you're not. You want something different... something dangerous. But you're scared."
He tried to scoff, but I could tell I'd hit a nerve.
"You think you know me so well, don't you?" he said quietly. "This is only the second conversation we've ever had, so you have no right to start making assumptions about my life just because you can't have me."
"And who says I can't have you?" I whispered, my face so close to his that our noses grazed. His breath caught in his throat, his eyes fluttered closed, but just as I leaned in to kiss him he shoved me away with a surprising amount of force.
"Stop," he said angrily. "Just stop it! Do you not think that I don't know about you? Everyone's talking about you, Anderson. Stereotypical bad boy, petty criminal, juvie, reform school. Even if I wasn't with Sam, what makes you think that I'd ever waste my time with someone like you?"
"Someone like me?" I said, my temper flaring quickly. "You don't wanna waste your time with someone like me? Well, fine! Do whatever the hell you want! Man, I can't believe I actually thought about making an effort at this shit-heap of a school just for you! Well fuck it, and fuck you, Hummel! Have fun being that closet cases' booty call, since I'm obviously not good enough for a prissy, perfect cheerleader like you!"
I stormed out of the room before he could stop me, seething with anger. It was fucking typical. He was just like everyone else, thinking he was better than me. Just like every teacher assuming I was dumb, just like my father assuming I was worthless, he was assuming that I was some low-life, a waste of his time. I punched a locker as I stormed down the empty hallway, so pissed off that I could've screamed.
After that I avoided Kurt like the plague. I was done following him around like a stalker, just like I was done trying to turn over a new leaf at McKinley. I'd only wanted to in the first place because I wanted to get with him and getting expelled would kind of get in the way of that. But now I just didn't care anymore. I'd only been here just over two weeks and it was already the same old, same old – fights, detentions, stern words from the principal, letters to my parents, and yelling from my father. Whatever. I really didn't give a shit.
At the end of my third week I was leaving a late detention. Some douche in my Math class called me a homo so I stabbed in the back of the hand with the pointy bit of a compass. I didn't see what all the fuss was about, to be honest. It was just a little drop of blood, but the way everyone was going on about it you'd think I'd chopped his arm off with a rusty axe or something. Anyway, as I slowly made my way down the hall, in no rush to go home, I heard something that made me stop. It sounded like someone was crying, and it was coming from the choir room. Curiosity got the better of me and I went to take a look, surprised to find Kurt sitting on the piano bench and sobbing into a handkerchief. He wasn't wearing his Cheerios uniform for once, but a purple shirt, a waistcoat, ungodly tight jeans and white DMs. I still hadn't seen anyone in school who dressed like him. I should've just left, but I hated seeing him cry.
"You okay?" I said, walking into the room.
He looked up, startled, and quickly wiped his eyes with the handkerchief.
"What are you doing here, Anderson?" he said, frowning at me.
"You didn't answer my question," I pressed on. "Are you okay?"
"Why do you care?" he sneered. I didn't say anything, so he sighed and said "If you must know... no, I'm not okay. Sam broke up with me."
If it was anybody other than Kurt I would have gloated my ass off. But instead I said "I'm sorry."
"No, you're not," he scoffed. "I bet you're delighted. Your little deduction about me turned out to be right."
I went to sit next to him on the piano bench. "What happened?"
He looked at me for a second, his eyebrows furrowed, and quietly said "He was just experimenting with me. It turns out he's not gay after all. He even asked me if I thought my best friend, Mercedes, would agree to go on a date with him. He'd never asked me on a date. We just did it in the backseat of his car whenever he felt like it. For someone so nice, he really isn't that... nice. I knew he was just using me, but it made me feel wanted. It was either that or die a lonely virgin spinster with twenty-seven cats." He chuckled sadly, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief again. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this, it's not like you care."
"Of course I do," I said. "I asked, didn't I? And look, if you need me to kick Evans' ass for you, just say so. I'd be more than willing."
He chuckled again. It was such a nice sound. "It's okay. You don't need to defend my honour. It's no big deal."
"Well, at least let me cheer you up," I said. When he arched an eyebrow at me I added "No, not like that. I get that no means no. You don't want to get your hands dirty or whatever."
He blushed a little bit and looked away. "I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I don't think you're a waste of time or anything."
"Forget about it," I said, smirking at him and turning around on the bench to face the piano."I'm sorry I got so pissed off. It just hit a nerve."
I started to play the piano, letting my fingers move naturally over the keys and making up a tune as I went. Kurt turned around, looking at me in surprise.
"You play the piano?"
"Uh huh," I said, still playing. "And the guitar, and the drums, and the violin..."
He laughed and then quickly stopped himself. "Sorry, it's just... you play the violin? Bad Boy Blaine Anderson plays the violin?"
I just shrugged. "My Mom made me learn. It's kind of relaxing actually, but I don't really talk about it. I get enough shit as it is without being some orchestra geek too."
I could see him staring at me in the corner of my eye. I stopped playing and looked at him with a smirk. I still couldn't tell what colour his eyes were, but they were dazzling this close up.
"Any requests?" I asked.
He shook his head, still staring at me like he couldn't believe his eyes.
"You're in Glee Club, right?" I said. "So you must into Broadway and stuff. How about..."
I played the opening bars of 'As Long As You're Mine' and I actually heard him gasp.
"You like Wicked?" he said in amazement.
"It's on my top five," I said with another shrug. "Rent and Spring Awakening take the top spots since they're a little more edgy. Fancy a duet to cheer you up?" I started the song from the beginning, giving him a little nudge with my shoulder. "Go on, Elphaba, you know you want to."
He snorted and shook his head at me, but started to sing all the same. I could feel the smile spread across my face as his beautiful voice washed over me, every word sounding like he meant it.
"Kiss me too fiercely, hold me too tight... I need help believing you're with me tonight..."
It was the nicest feeling in the world, just playing the song and listening to Kurt sing. For a split second I forgot that it was a duet, but I sang once it got to my part, very aware that Kurt was watching me.
"Maybe I'm brainless, maybe I'm wise... but you got me seeing through different eyes..."
Once we started singing together our voice harmonised perfectly, like we were made to sing together. It felt so good, so right. I guess this was what being happy was supposed to feel like. When the song came to an end we looked at each other and smiled. He had such a gorgeous smile.
"You really are full of surprises," he said. "Have you thought about joining Glee Club? We can always do with new members."
"I don't think it's really for me," I said. "I mean, I like singing... I like singing with you. But Glee Club sounds kind of lame."
"Glee Club isn't lame," he said, sounding offended but still smiling. "I'll admit sometimes Mr. Schuester's song choices leave much to be desired, but Glee Club is like my family, even if we've never exactly been popular. I'll always be a Glee Clubber first and a Cheerio second. I think joining might be good for you, Blaine. You're really talented."
It was so great hearing him say my first name and pay me a compliment. It sounded so nice in that soft, high voice of his.
"Thanks, Kurt," I said, grinning. "I'll think about it."
For what felt like several days we just looked at each other, until suddenly we both leaned in at the same time and kissed. It was like something out of a movie. Y'know, like when the main couple in a movie finally have their first kiss, and the camera pans all the way around them, and everything goes blurry except the two of them, and the background music swells – it's sounds corny, but that's just how it felt kissing Kurt. His lips were so soft, and there was something really chaste and innocent about it that I'd never felt before. But, just as I was about ready to lose myself in him, he pushed me away and stood up, looking flustered.
"I – I really need to go," he said quickly, blushing violently. "If I'm home late my Dad will start to worry. I'll, erm... I'll see you, Blaine."
He rushed out of the room before I could say anything. I really didn't know what to think. I mean, what did I do? It had been so perfect, just kissing after we'd sung that amazing duet together, like a scene out of someone else's life. So why did he just up and leave? Maybe he'd remembered exactly who he was making out with. Maybe, no matter what he said on the contrary, he really didn't want to get involved with someone like me. God, it was like I just wasn't good enough to be happy. Every time something good happened to me something had to screw it up. I didn't want to get angry about it, but when I eventually got home I put that little bottle of vodka I had stashed in my room to good use. It was the only way I could get to sleep without thinking about Kurt.
But by Monday at school I was sick of feeling sorry for myself. Kurt liked me, I knew he did. I hadn't kissed him, we'd kissed each other. We'd sung together and he'd asked me to join Glee Club, for God's sake. I didn't imagine it. So what was his deal? Quinn was already sick of me going on about it.
"Oh my God," she groaned as we smoked under the bleachers. "I get it, you guys had a moment. Can you shut up about it now?"
"You don't understand," I insisted. "It was totally amazing, and then he just ran away. I mean, what the fuck?"
"I thought you only wanted to hook up with him?" she asked. "Suddenly you've gone all girly about it."
I rolled my eyes at her. "Whatever. I was down with hooking up before, but Kurt's... I don't know, different... special."
Quinn pretended to retch. "Damn, Anderson. When did you get so fucking sentimental?"
"I don't give a shit what you think, Fabray," I said. "Kurt is exactly what I've needed, someone who can really straighten me out. Or, at least, I thought he was... why did he run out on my like that?"
"Ugh, just ask him, if it means that much to you," Quinn said, sounding even more bored that usual. "If it'll shut you up and make you quite your bitching, just get him on his own and ask him. God..."
So I took Quinn's advice. Getting Kurt alone was easier said than done though. Whenever I saw him he was always surrounded, either by other Cheerios or the girls he was in Glee Club with. Didn't he go anywhere on his own? Finally I caught him at the end of the day. He was walking past when I grabbed him and pulled him into an empty classroom."
"For goodness sake, Anderson," he huffed, smoothing down his Cheerios uniform. "Was man-handling me really necessary?"
"I just wanted to talk to you," I said, checking him out before I could stop myself. That uniform was fucking sinful.
"Then talk to me," he said, sounding annoyed. "You didn't have to drag me in here. That hurt, you know."
"Sorry, sorry. But seriously, I needed to talk to you about what happened in the choir room."
He blushed then. "What's there to talk about?"
"We kissed, Hummel. And then you just ran out on me."
"So, what the fuck? Did I do something wrong?"
He shook his head, looking uncomfortable. "No, you didn't. Really, it was me. It just... it freaked me out."
"Why?" I asked, leaning against a desk.
He looked at me, nervous and imploring, and then said "What's your deal? I mean... what do you want from me?"
"What do you mean?" I said, frowning. "You think I have some ulterior motive or something?"
He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to.
"Look, I get it, okay?" I said, trying and failing to not sound bitter. "My reputation kinda precedes me. I'm this bad boy, this low-life troublemaker, and no one expects anything else from me. That's why everyone's always so surprised when they see how good my grades are, why you were so surprised when I told you I play the violin. Everyone's got this really narrow image me just because I got into a lot of shit in the past and because I just don't care most of the time. But it's not like that with you, Kurt. With you I... I care."
He still didn't say anything, so I kept on talking. I wanted him to understand.
"Before," I continued. "I tried to tell myself that I just wanted to hook up with you, y'know, because you're all kinds of crazy hot and everything," (he blushed even harder at that). "But really it was just because I didn't think I should want anything more than that. I'm used to no-strings-attached hook ups with guys who are hot but that I don't really give a shit about – fun, but ultimately meaningless. Feelings would've just got in the way. But, even though I tried to tell myself otherwise, I couldn't really ever imagine doing something like that with you. I want you, but I also want to be with you. You moved me."
"I did?" he said incredulously.
I nodded. "My first day here I heard you singing in the auditorium. And then I saw you up on that stage. And it was then that I decided that, even though I already fucking hated it at this school, I was gonna make an effort... just for the chance to know you. I don't know, maybe you're what I've been searching for all this time. I've always felt kinda aimless. I've never really seen the point of anything. But when we sang together the other day I actually felt happy – like my life had a point all of a sudden. And it made me wish that I'd known you years ago. Maybe then my life wouldn't have turned out so crappy; maybe I would've learnt to control my temper and not wound up in juvie if you'd been there to calm me down."
He was smiling slightly, looking at me as if he was seeing me properly for the first time.
"You're really not as bad as everyone says, are you?" he said quietly. "I really wish I hadn't jumped to conclusions about you, Blaine. I left so quickly after we kissed because it felt so... perfect. But I thought that maybe I was just playing into your hands, like the kindness and the duet and the kiss was just your way of charming me. And I didn't want to be just some conquest to you."
"You're not," I said, smiling properly. "I know I'm bad, but I'm not a complete asshole."
We both laughed. Kurt dropped his bag and quickly stepped closer to me, wrapping his arms around my neck and kissing me, both of us smiling into it. It was just a perfect as the first, maybe even better.
"I thought my clichéd bad boy image didn't do it for you, Princess?" I asked with a smirk once we separated.
He smirked right back, stroking the hair on the nape of my neck. It was amazing how someone so pretty could look so sexy at the same time. "I'm starting to find it ironically attractive."
We kissed again, harder this time, but it was still fucking perfect. Seriously, where had this guy been all my life? He let me into his mouth when I licked his bottom lip, and the moan he let out when our tongues touched went straight to my dick. He tasted delicious, but I wasn't sure what of – I guess it was just pure Kurt. As we made out I let my hands travel over his chest, his flat stomach and his tiny little waist. I slipped my hands down the arch of his lower back before finally cupping that gorgeous ass I'd been dreaming about, making let out an adorable little squeak.
"You're so hot, Kurt," I whispered against his lips, before kissing my way down his jaw. "You're so fucking hot..."
I turned us around so he was against the desk, squeezing his ass before lifting him up onto the table so I was between his legs. I held him close to me as I licked and nibbled his earlobe, both of us groaning when our crotches rubbed together.
"We... we probably shouldn't..." he stammered. "We're in a... in a classroom... someone might... catch us."
I caught his lips in another hard kiss before looking right into his eyes, blue and green at the same time and completely blown out with lust.
"What's life without a little danger, huh?" I said with a smirk.
He smiled, wide and excited, before he tangled his fingers in my curly hair and pulled me into a fierce, passionate kiss, his legs tight around my hips. My hands moved from his waist to the front of those damn Cheerios track pants, cupping the rock hard boner in his pants as I sucked on his neck at the same time, leaving a nice mark on that creamy skin as a little keepsake for him. The sexy noise he made as he arched his back was just... wow.
"If you're so worried about us getting caught," I whispered into his ear, still rubbing the bulge in his pants. "You might want to quieten down those porn star moans of yours."
"Whatever," he growled, nuzzling into my neck. "Just... just fuck me, Blaine."
I didn't even know his voice could go that low, but it was hot as hell, not to mention hearing him curse for the first time. I slipped my hand past the waistband of his pants and underwear, my fingers circling around his cock. He felt so thick and hot, and he shivered at my touch.
"You really want me to fuck you, baby?" I purred. "You want me to take you right here in this classroom? You want me to bend you over this desk and fuck your brains out?"
"Yes, yes, yes," he breathed as I started to slowly stroke his cock. "Oh God, please..."
There was so much I wanted to do to him – I wanted to know what his dick and his ass tasted like, I wanted to feel his lips around my length, I wanted him to fuck me – but all that could wait. This wasn't just a random hook up. This was Kurt. There would be time to explore each other later. All the time in the world. As long as he'd have me.
I reached in my back pocket for a condom and a sachet of lube, and I heard him chuckle.
"I can't believe you just happened to be carrying a condom and lube with you," he said, shaking his head.
I grinned at him. "I like to be prepared for every eventuality."
He giggled and started to kiss my neck, biting and sucking on the sensitive skin just below my ear until I thought I was going to go insane. He pushed my leather jacket off my shoulders and onto the floor, caressing my arms and my t-shirt clad chest as he licked my Adam's apple.
I lifted him off the desk and turned him around, bending him over and pulling his track pants and underwear down in one go. God, his ass was just fucking amazing. I ripped the lube packet open and squeezed the cool liquid onto my fingers, holding onto his hip with my other hand and teasing his hole with the tip of one finger. He pushed back against me with a desperate whimper, and I pushed my finger inside him. Shit, he was so tight...
"More," he said, sounding husky and demanding again. "Come on, please... I'm not a virgin, you know... you don't have to be gentle with me, I won't break... come on!"
I chuckled and added a second finger, twisting and thrusting them hard, scissoring them to stretch him out, before adding a third. He was pushing back against my hand, fucking himself on my fingers, and he cried out in the sexiest way ever when I finally rubbed against his prostate.
"Oh God, oh fuck, right there! Ohh please, please fuck me, Blaine!"
He didn't have to tell me twice. I removed my fingers – much to his disappointment – and undid my jeans, finally realising my hard on from the restrictive material. I tore the condom packet open with my teeth and rolled it on, slicking myself up with the rest of the lube and lined myself up with his hole, pushing myself into him in one swift movement. Both of us groaned as I stayed still to let him get used to me. Holy fucking shit, he was so damn tight, so hot and... and incredible. It took a lot to stop myself from just blowing my load straight away.
"Oh shit, Kurt, you feel so good..."
"Move," he whined, pushing back against me.
"You're so fucking demanding when you're horny, baby. I love it."
I pulled out of him until just the head of my cock was inside him, and slammed back into him. He cried out in the most delicious way. It took no time at all for us to really go for it. I held tightly onto his hips – I'd probably leave bruises, but whatever – and pounded into his tight heat over and over, Kurt pushing back in time with me as he moaned against the desk, which was moving with us. I was already embarrassingly close, but I couldn't help it; he just felt so amazing around my dick, and the way he was moaning my name was the hottest thing ever. I reached around and took his cock in my hand, stroking him fast as I thrust into him even harder, angling myself to that I hit him right in that magic spot – if I was going to come ridiculously fast, I wanted him coming with me.
He was saying my name and begging me to go faster and not to stop – as if I ever wanted to fucking stop – his ass clenching hard around my cock as if willing me to come. He reached around, grabbing a handful of my hair, and pulled me into a messy, dirty kiss as I squeezed the head of his cock and hit his prostate right at the same time.
"Oh fuck!" he moaned against my lips. "Oh God, Blaine, don't stop! Don't stop! I'm so, so close..."
I kissed his neck and sucked his earlobe. "Mmm, me too, baby... me too... you gonna come for me, Kurt?"
"Yes, yes, yes, oh-my-God-yes!"
"Come for me, Kurt... fucking come for me!"
A few more thrusts and a few more strokes and that was it. Kurt's whole body convulsed against me as he came with a kind of silent scream all over my hand and the desk, my climax hitting me like a ton of bricks only seconds later. His ass was like a vice around my cock so there was no way I was keeping it together much longer. I licked all his come off my fingers as he collapsed against the desk – how was it that everything about him tasted so good?
Once we got our breath back, we cleaned up and made ourselves look more presentable. Kurt had some moist towelettes in his bag that were usually just for skin care, but worked great at getting all the jizz off the desk. There was a second after we were done that was kind of awkward, like neither of us knew what to say now that the sex was over. But I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted Kurt. Just because I'd finally gotten into those devilish Cheerios track pants didn't mean that I was through with him, no way.
"Wanna go out to dinner with me sometime?"
He looked surprised, like he couldn't believe that it was me that actually said that. He wasn't the only one.
"You're actually asking me out?" he said slowly. "Like, on an actual date?"
"Of course I am," I said, resting my hands on his hips. "I know the first date is supposed to come before the mind-blowing sex, but there's no harm in mixing it up a little. So how about it?"
He smiled, his eyes sparkling, and pulled me into a kiss, his arms draped around my shoulders.
"Should I take that as a yes?" I smirked.
"Tomorrow," he said. "7'o'clock, Breadstix, your treat. And please where something other than a leather jacket, jeans and a white t-shirt for once. I mean, your signature look is hot and everything, but this is not Grease and you are not one of the T-Birds."
I just laughed and kissed him again, before he left the deserted classroom hand in hand. Okay, maybe this shit-heap of a new school wasn't so bad after all.
Hope you enjoyed my bad boy Blaine, Humble Readers.