A/N: Thanks everyone for the lovely reviews and faves! You made my day. =]

Rating: NC-17 for explicit m/m Klaine goodies.

Story: Set after AVGC, except in this story Kurt transferred to Dalton in Oct, not Nov. And his baby penguin days are well behind him.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, but Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk are my heroes. In fact, I don't own much besides a computer and a dirty mind, certainly none of the well known names or products mentioned here.

Update: Sequel is posted, titled 'One Part of Me'.

The winter break was over and Kurt was back at school. He'd been enrolled at Dalton since October and he was happy there, even though he really missed his Dad and Mercedes and all his other friends. Not to mention his extensive wardrobe with its gorgeous collection of hats, scarves and boots. He was only able to bring a fraction of his clothing to school with him. Whoever decided that the Dalton dorm rooms didn't need closets because armoires would be sufficient, ought to be stripped down to his off-brand, white, cotton boxers and whipped with Kurt's fabulous new royal blue Salvatore Ferragamo belt.

He called often to check up on his Dad and make sure he was eating right, glad that Carole was there to take care of him, and he went home for the weekend once a month to refresh his wardrobe. He and Mercedes would also make plans occasionally to meet somewhere after school, if homework and rehearsals allowed, but it still felt odd to be living away from home. Nevertheless, he was happy because, on the bright side of all this – on the brilliantly, radiantly, incandescently bright side – he got to see Blaine every day. That was enough to make up for everything else. There was no denying that Dalton had many other benefits to offer, but none were as important to Kurt anymore.

The zero tolerance no-harassment policy had seemed like an impossible dream a few months ago. The simple acceptance he'd craved all his life was his at last. But time and distance had dulled his fear of Karofsky's threats, and he'd dealt with ordinary bullying for so long that it seemed almost normal. They were Neanderthals who'd still be working at the mall long after Kurt became a shining star on Broadway. He'd never allowed any amount of bullying or unwarranted hatred to stop him from being himself or showing them with a withering glare that he knew he was superior to all of them. No, his true reason for staying at Dalton, in spite of missing his father and New Directions, and being forced to wear an oppressive and unflattering uniform, was Blaine.

He sighed – a common occurrence these days – just thinking about the handsome boy with the thick, dark hair. Blaine kept it very short and tried to forcibly straighten what was obviously a natural curl. Kurt longed to touch his hair, twirl it and watch it curl around his fingers while they lay in bed. He thought a long bout of hot, sweaty sex should muss his hair sufficiently for twirling.

Looking back, his crush on Finn last year seemed very childish. His idea of romance had been holding hands with Finn as they walked down the halls of McKinley, gazing sweetly into each other's eyes while the student body uttered a collective "Awwww." Those idealistic images couldn't compare to his wicked fantasies about Blaine. He now realized he'd never experienced true love before, or true lust for that matter.

His daytime fantasies were hot enough to be a distraction during class, but at night the dreams controlled him. Being a teenage boy, he'd long ago accepted, grudgingly, that there would be mornings when he was going to wake up sticky and sweaty, in desperate need of a shower, and there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn't expected it to become a daily event. But, now that it had, he loved those blissful moments between sleeping and waking when the memories lingered, even though it was difficult to climb out of bed knowing they'd start to slip away the moment he opened his eyes. Most of the details would slip away, but he remembered enough to know what he'd dreamed about, with predictable results.

He'd tried to train his body. Sometimes he'd go to his room an hour before curfew so he'd have time to fantasize about Blaine, get himself off and clean up before his roommate came in. But, even with the pre-emptive strikes, his nighttime emissions continued.

He sighed again, this time in frustration, lifted his chin and smoothed his already immaculate hair, a habit of his, a subconscious calming mechanism. The mixed signals from Blaine were really getting to him. There were times he'd swear the other boy was flirting with him. Blaine often touched him for no apparent reason, or gazed right into his eyes, smiling that gorgeous smile and causing his stomach to flip-flop. They had coffee together regularly at their favorite little spot off campus, did homework together in the evenings and generally spent most of their free time in each other's company.

Once, before Christmas, Blaine had found him alone in a students' common room and asked for a duet of 'Baby It's Cold Outside', knowing Kurt couldn't resist the opportunity to sing with him. But it wasn't just the song, although it was flirty enough, it was the way he'd sung it, chasing him around the room, begging him with both the lyrics and his eyes to spend the night. He blushed at the memory.

So why hadn't Blaine kissed him? Or at least asked him out on a real date yet? He almost growled out loud right there in French class as the teacher scribbled verb tenses on the board, pronouncing each one and using it in a sentence as he wrote.

He knew there were other gay boys at Dalton. Boys who were actually out, unlike McKinley's deeply closeted homosexual population. Since he'd enrolled at this school, a couple of boys had shown an interest in him. He didn't return the attention.

There was only one boy he wanted to be with. But if Blaine didn't make a move soon, Kurt was honestly concerned he might walk right into his room one night, crawl into his bed and suck him off in his sleep. He knew next to nothing about sex, but his recent dreams had been giving him lots of ideas. His fingers drifted to his mouth and brushed across his lips as he daydreamed. He definitely wanted a taste of the sexy tenor and most of his fantasies involved getting his mouth on that perfect cock. Ok, well he didn't actually know for a fact that it was perfect, but it was a safe assumption. Everything about Blaine was perfect. Everything except his unwillingness to jump Kurt's bones, so far at least.

Blaine was looking forward to Warblers rehearsal after last period, as always. He enjoyed his classes and he was a model student, a favorite among the teachers, but lately he'd been feeling more and more impatient for the end of the school day. When the final bell rang, he hurried to his room, tossed his books onto the desk, brushed his teeth, straightened his hair and rushed off to choir practice. He automatically scanned the crowd of uniformed boys for his best friend as he walked through the door, completely unaware of the way his face lit up when he spotted Kurt, who returned his smile and beckoned him over.

"How did you do on your calculus test?" Kurt asked.

"No problem," he answered easily. "How was Algebra today?"

Kurt groaned and laughed self-deprecatingly. Algebra II was his one true weakness when it came to school work. "Mr. Caulfield had us trying to find the equation of a line. Why? If you already have the line, why do you have to try to understand precisely how it came to exist in that form? Can't it just be accepted as is, without having to explain itself? So what if it's a little different from the other lines? It's still a line. But no, the poor thing has to be examined in mathematic detail as if there must be some reason it turned out the way it did." He raised his eyes to the ceiling and heaved a melodramatic sigh. "I can relate."

Blaine laughed and promised to help with his homework after dinner. They chatted companionably until Wes called for everyone's attention and they both concentrated on their shared passion for music. Wes informed the group that, instead of their normal rehearsals, they would hold a brainstorming session for potential new songs to add to their set list. Every Warbler was invited to contribute ideas and, if the entire group seemed enthusiastic about a particular song, the council would consider it. Final decisions for the set list would be theirs.

The two friends quickly ran through numerous songs they each loved to sing, trying to narrow down the options. While they talked, Blaine couldn't help thinking to himself, not for the first time, that Kurt's eyes were really unusual. They seemed to keep changing color depending on his mood or his outfit or even his surroundings. Looking at his eyes, a clear ocean blue at the moment, a song suddenly popped into his head and he turned toward Wes, David and Thad, who sat at the front desk talking over the short list of songs they had so far. "I have a suggestion." The room quieted as the others paused in their discussions to hear what their lead soloist had to say.

Wes looked up from the list in front of him. "Yes, Blaine? What is it?" Blaine had a gift for selecting crowd-pleasers and everyone there knew it.

"'Cute', by Stephen Jerzak."

A few of the guys nodded their heads, while others waited, unfamiliar with the song but trusting Blaine's instincts. "I don't think I know that one," Wes confessed, glancing at David, who shook his head and shrugged. "How about letting us hear it? Then we can decide whether or not to put it down for consideration."

Always happy to oblige the group with a solo, Blaine moved to the center of the room and closed his eyes to do a quick mental replay of the music. His body began to move and he snapped his fingers to the beat only he could hear. He opened his eyes and began to sing the fast-paced song which, like so many pop songs, was precisely in his wheelhouse.

[A/N: Replaced the broken link. If you'd like to listen along delete the spaces, www. youtube. com/watch?v=OVShnitaGJQ]

Your eyes are blue like the ocean, and baby I'm lost out at sea
Did the sun just come out or did you smile at me
I've been trying to ask you but I can't seem to speak
Was it love at first sight 'cause I walked by last week.

I'm singing Fa la la la la...

The Warblers who knew this one provided backup, one grabbed a guitar from the corner and the others snapped their fingers along with Blaine.

Your lips look so lonely, would they like to meet mine
You are the one that I've been hoping to find
You're so sweet that you put Hershey's out of business
Can I have a photograph to show my friends that Angels truly exist.

I'm singing Fa la la la la...

Blaine danced around the room as he sang, pulling everyone into the music in that special way he had, and soon the whole room was joining in as they listened to their talented friend take an OK song and make it great.

You're as cute as a button, the things you do sure are something
Are you running out of breath from running through my head, all night.
Is there something in your eye, Oh wait, it's just a sparkle
Can you get a little closer, and help me out a little bit
I scraped my knee fallin' for you, but baby a kiss will do.

I'm singing Fa la la la la la...

You're as cute as a button, the things you do sure are something
Are you running out of breath, from running through my head, all night.

I'm falling in love, and wouldn't I like to think so
And every night I look at the stars out my window
And hope I can see the one that we saw together
It was just you and me and honestly I'll look for that star forever.

[Repeat]

You're as cute as a button, the things you do sure are something
Are you running out of breath, from running through my head, all night.

[Repeat]

The room broke out in applause as they finished the song in rounds and Blaine drew out the last notes. He looked at Kurt, who was cheering enthusiastically, eyes sparkling.

When practice was over they strolled down to dinner together, discussing various music genres and comparing artists. After sitting down with their meals they were joined by Wes and David. "That was a great performance today," David commented. "What made you think of that song?"

Blaine considered the question, shrugging. "I guess it must have been Kurt. We were talking and I noticed again that his eyes are the color of the ocean, and that made me think of the song." Blaine took another bite of his baked fish, oblivious to the look exchanged by David and Wes, or Kurt nearly knocking over his Diet Coke at that casual statement.

The three boys stared at Blaine, who finally noticed that the table had fallen strangely quiet. He paused in the act of spearing a forkful of steamed veggies and looked around. "What?"

Everyone very quickly became interested in the food on their plates. "Nothing. Nothing," David said with a cough. "It was a cool song. I think everyone really got into it."

Kurt pushed the food around on his plate without really seeing it. What did it mean, that Blaine thought his eyes were the color of the ocean? Was that a good thing? It kind of sounded good, but the way he said it was like it meant nothing. He could have been talking about the weather. Hey, did you see those clouds out there? Reminded me of Kurt's eyes. Looks like it might rain. He threw down his fork, drawing a curious look from the object of his frustration.

"Everything okay, Kurt? Don't you like the fish?"

"Yeah, it's fine." He managed a weak smile. "Guess I'm just not very hungry."

Blaine frowned slightly, hoping his friend wasn't coming down with something. He looked a little flushed. Come to think of it, the others were acting strange too. They were normally much chattier. He scanned the dining hall, wondering if there was a stomach bug going around. His gaze passed over a sophomore a couple of tables away and he did a double-take when he realized the guy was staring at him.

As he took a second look he could see that the boy – James or Jimmy, if he remembered correctly – wasn't staring at him at all. He was staring at Kurt. Blaine glanced at his friend, but he didn't seem to be aware of the other boy's eyes on him. He looked back at James, his eyebrows drawing together unconsciously. That guy had better not even THINK about harassing his best friend, or he and the rest of the Warblers would have a serious talk with the kid.

Experiencing a rare flash of anger, in which he imagined himself walking over to the younger boy's table and smashing his fist into the guy's face, he observed as James smiled shyly, brushed his hair back behind his ear and returned his attention to his meal. Blaine's anger vanished as quickly as it had appeared and he blinked, reevaluating.

James was probably 16, but he looked a little older. He was about 5'10" or 5'11", and appeared to be in good shape. He remembered now that he'd seen the guy a couple of times when he'd been outside for gym class. James had been running laps with the track team. He had longish, light brown hair and Blaine supposed some people would call him attractive. He turned to Kurt again, wondering if there was something going on that his friend hadn't told him. Friends would tell each other if they'd met someone, right? He hadn't mentioned liking anyone, but it might be only a matter of time now that he was going to a school where he was not the only out gay guy.

Blaine wasn't sure why that thought should bother him, but it probably had to do with the traumatic experience Karofsky had subjected his sweet, innocent friend to not so long ago. No, he didn't think Kurt was ready to start dating yet. He'd be sure to stick closer to him from now on, to discourage anyone who might think of hitting on his friend, who obviously had no interest in them. He scowled openly at James, who choked on his food when he noticed, then hurriedly cleared his dishes and left the hall.

He suppressed a smug grin, mentally patting himself on the back. Kurt didn't have anything to worry about as long as he was around. He quickly finished his meal and asked his friend if he was ready to tackle some Algebra.

Two hours later, alone with Blaine in one of the common rooms, Kurt slammed his book shut, groaning. "I used to think there was nothing I couldn't do with enough focus and practice." He raised both hands to the back of his neck to dig his fingers into muscles made tense from hours spent poring over his least favorite subject.

Blaine smiled reassuringly. "There isn't anything you can't do. You'll get this. I won't give up until you do."

He blew out a frustrated sigh, still rubbing his neck, head bent over the hated book. "Thanks Blaine. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Well, luckily you don't have to worry about that, because I'm right here." He moved to stand behind Kurt, placing his hands lightly on his shoulders. "Here, let me." He squeezed and began a slow, methodical shoulder rub to soothe his friend's frazzled nerves.

Kurt stifled a gasp, trying not to read anything into the unexpected touch. Closing his eyes, he repeated the silent chant to himself that had lately become his mantra. You're just friends. He doesn't like you that way. Stop imagining things that aren't there! Still, he wasn't foolish enough to object if Blaine wanted to run those hands all over his shoulders, neck, back, arms, thighs, ass, or any other body parts he could think of.

After a few minutes the massage had turned him into a puddle, face-down on the book with arms out on the table, eyes closed and a lopsided smile on his face. "Blaine Warbler, you are a constant surprise. Thank you."

He chuckled at Kurt's nickname for him. "Anytime. I take it we've had enough Algebra for one day?"

"Yes, please! I can feel the tension returning just thinking about opening this book again tonight."

"Good thing I've got these magic fingers!" He plopped down into the chair beside his friend and showed him his jazz hands, waggling his eyebrows for added effect. Kurt laughed at his goofiness, relaxing again instantly, and Blaine smiled, mission accomplished. "We've still got a little time before curfew. Feel like taking a walk? My legs could use a stretch."

"Sounds fantastic. I owe you one."