A/N I had a bit of a naughty dream last night, and this one shot is the result. Starts in season one's The Rhodes Not Taken, and jumps to season two's Blame it on the Alcohol. Oh, and for the purpose of this story, Kurt did not confess his feelings to Blaine during Silly Love Songs.

I blushed the entire time I was writing this ;P. Enjoy!

Reviews are Always Welcome!

…

Yee-haw!

Westerville High School, September, 2009

Lydia Hammond smiled out at the show choir kids. She'd been the artistic director of The West End Crew for five years now, and thought they might actually have a shot at Nationals this year, especially with their secret weapon. She turned her indulgent smile to the curly haired young man as she called them to attention.

"Okay, boys and girls, I have some exciting news. We've been asked to compete at an invitational at McKinley High School, in Lima. They have a brand new show choir, the New Directions, and they are looking to test the waters a little before Sectionals."

As predicted, the kids all began talking excitedly. This crew of kids loved to perform, and were driven to compete. "Okay, settle down. The Invitational is in two weeks, so we'll need to pick our set list. We'll be doing two songs..."

…

Two weeks later

Blaine Anderson slipped into the auditorium at McKinley high along with the rest of The West End Crew, feeling both nervous and giddy. It was his first competition ever, and the freshman would be singing lead on both of their songs. By luck of the draw, they were performing first, and he knew they had to set the bar high.

They didn't see New Directions before the competition, but they did see the other team, who would be performing second. It was the all girl's choir from Crawford Country Day, the Pixie Chicks. Blaine just shook his head at the antics of the boys in his crew trying to impress the prep school girls.

This competition would be less formal than Sectionals. There were no local celebrities to judge them, just a panel of teachers from each school, with one representative from the state show choir association to break any ties.

They were called on stage, and Blaine took a deep breath as the music started. He thought they did very well on both Miley Cyrus' Party in the USA and Jordan Spark's Battlefield. After they performed, they took their seats in the very back row to watch the other two teams.

He thought the Pixie Chicks did well vocally, but their dancing could use some work. And then finally, the host team was introduced. He heard some of the guys in his group snicker when they realized New Directions were all wearing cowboy outfits. The lights were dim, but he could see they all wore tight black jeans and black rodeo style shirts, along with the black cowboy boots and hats.

The music began, and they began to dance.

Last night, I got served
A little bit too much of that poison baby
Last night I did things I'm not proud of
And I got a little crazy
Last night I met a guy on the dance floor
And I let him call me baby

Blaine wasn't overly impressed with the group's front runner, who looked like she was way too old to be in high school, but his eyes kept being drawn to a figure to the right of the stage. The boy was lean, and wore the cowboy outfit well. He couldn't really make out the boy's face from this distance, but got a peek of auburn hair when he had tipped his hat at one point. Of all the dancers on the stage, he was one of only three that looked comfortable with his body as they swayed and line danced to the music.

And I don't even know his last name
Oh, my mama would be so ashamed
It started off "Hey cutie, where ya from?"
And then it turned in, "Oh no, what have I done?"
And I don't even know his last name

Blaine was mesmerized by the way the boy swung his hips. He found himself getting just a tad aroused, and was fighting to hide it. He hadn't come out at school yet. Hopefully if anyone noticed, they'd assume it was the older blonde, or one of the New Direction girls that had him adjusting his pants.

Whoo
We left the club right around three o'clock in the morning
His Pinto sitting there in the parking lot
Well it should have been a warning
I had no clue what I was getting into
So I blame it on the Cuervo
Oh where did my manners go?

God, those legs should be illegal! And that ass! He wanted to be those jeans, hugging the boy's curves that tight.

And I don't even know his last name
Oh, my mama would be so ashamed
It started off "Hey cutie, where ya from?"
And then it turned in, "Oh no, what have I done?"
And I don't even know his last name
Here we go...

He was biting his lip, trying not to whimper as his eyes remained glued to those hips.

I don't even know my last name
Oh my mama would be so ashamed
It started off "Hey cutie, where ya from?"
And then it turned in, "Oh no, what have I done?"
And I don't even know my last name

What have I done
What have I done
What have I done
Oh, what have I done I don't even know my last name

Well it turned into "Oh no, what have I done?"
And I don't even know my last name

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, wooow
Yeah-yeah (oh), yeah-yeah (oh), Yeah-yeah (oh), Yeah-yeah

Blaine couldn't take it anymore. He excused himself, saying he needed to use the restroom. He could hear the song ending as he made his way out the door.

Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah, ohhhh yeah
It started off "Hey cutie, where ya from?"
And then it turned into "Oh no, what have I done?"
And I don't even know my last name
Oh yeah

He went to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face and get himself under control. He didn't want to go back in there and make a fool out of himself, or worse, out himself. It wasn't that he was ashamed of being gay, but he had seen what had happened to his friend, Aaron after he came out; the bullying and the verbal abuse, even some threats of physical harm. He didn't think he could deal with all that hassle.

He sent a text to Aaron, saying he wasn't feeling well and was going to wait on the bus for them. He thought about his friend while he waited. Yeah, the kids tormented him, but he still held his head up as he walked down the hallways. He wished he had the courage to be more like the tall blonde. Maybe he should just bite the bullet and come out. Yeah, the thought terrified him, but wasn't the definition of brave doing something despite the fear?

He was getting tired of living a lie. His parents already knew. Maybe it was time for the rest of the world to know as well.

His mind drifted to the mystery boy from New Directions. Was he gay? The way he moved, flowing so easily, gracefully. He was definitely comfortable with who he was, either way. Blaine decided he wanted to be that comfortable, that confident in himself, and he couldn't do that if he wasn't being himself.

Courage, he thought. He could do this. He would come out at school first thing Monday morning.

…

Lima, Ohio, February, 2011

Blaine woke slowly, his head pounding. He couldn't hold back the whimper of pain as he tried to sit up. God, his head hadn't hurt this much since he woke up after the attack. What the hell had happened to him. And where the hell was he? He didn't recognize this room. Crap, had he been attacked again? After the first attack, he'd woken up in a hospital, his head covered in bandages. Physically, he'd been mostly fine, but he'd had trouble remembering details of events that had happened before the attack, even things that had happened months before.

He almost panicked before he heard a familiar voice.

"Hey, how you feeling?"

He blinked at the boy coming around the corner. "Kurt? Where am I?"

His best friend smiled at him. "You were pretty drunk last night. I didn't think it was a good idea to drive back to Dalton with you, so I brought you to my house, and let you sleep it off."

He smiled at the older boy. "Thanks. I hope I didn't do anything too bad last night."

Kurt grinned. "You mean other than making out with Rachel Berry?"

"What?" Oh god, he was never going to drink again. He felt like there was a layer of grime coating his body, and he smelled like stale sweat and alcohol. Kurt seemed to read his thoughts.

"Why don't you take a shower? You can grab a t shirt out of my closet to put on afterwards. Unfortunately I don't think any of my pants will fit you."

Blaine just grunted and got up. He showered, lingering in the hot water for a while. He almost felt human again once he washed his hair and scrubbed himself clean. He put his pants back on, but carried the shirt to Kurt's room and dropped it on the bed. The taller boy wasn't there, but he could hear him talking to his dad downstairs. He hoped his friend wasn't in too much trouble.

He went over to the large walk in closet, smiling to himself that the pale boy trusted him enough to enter this sacred space. He was awestruck at the amount of clothing neatly hung and color coordinated. He slowly made his way deeper into the packed to capacity closet, laughing at some of the outfits he spied, imagining them on Kurt. As he neared the back of the closet, he found shoes and boots and other accessories carefully lined up on several sets of shelves.

His jaw nearly dropped when he saw the ten inch heels on a set of silvery boots. What the hell? Had Kurt actually worn those? As if to answer his question, his eyes found a cork board filled with photographs of Kurt in different outfits, including a picture of New Directions, all dressed in some outrageous costume. The girls and Kurt seemed to be dressed in various Lady Gaga get ups, while the rest of the boys were dressed as the band members from KISS.

He looked back at the rows of footwear. None of them were as outlandish as the ten inch silver boots, but some of them made him grin. And then he spotted the pair of black cowboy boots. They seemed incongruous among the pricier designer boots. Blaine frowned as a memory tried to tug at his thoughts. His gaze moved up the shelves to where several hats were displayed. His eyes narrowed in on a black Stetson hat.

No, it couldn't be! He slowly turned back to the cork board and it's photographs, scanning the pictures. There, top left corner, was a group shot of New Directions from the previous year. And there was Kurt, baby faced, flushed from excitement, dressed in tight black jeans and black rodeo shirt. Oh God! It was him!

Blaine recalled the boy he had lusted over at the invitational very well. The boy had starred in several of Blaine's hottest wet dreams back then. Still did, actually. After the attack, he could still recall the Invitational, and the boy (although he had never gotten a good look at the boy's face), but he couldn't recall the names of the groups they had competed against, or where it had taken place.

Kurt was the boy he had been fantasizing about for the past year and a half! He scanned the closet again, and found the shirt and those damn jeans neatly folded and placed on a shelf. As he held the jeans in his hand, Blaine could see that night clearly in his mind, the way the auburn haired boy's hips had moved so enticingly. He felt a stirring in his pants. Oh God, how would he ever face Kurt again now that he knew that the pale boy was the man from his dreams?

He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the boy in question call his name. He hastily shoved the jeans back onto the shelf, not noticing that he had dropped the shirt on the floor.

"Blaine? Everything okay?"

Oh damn! He still had an erection! He couldn't let Kurt see him like this. He'd think Blaine was a Perv or something! He snatched up a t shirt from a pile on the shelf and held it in front of himself awkwardly, turning to face the front of the closet as his best friend entered.

"Oh, uh, hey. Sorry, guess my mind was wandering. Must be the alcohol." He tried to smile at the other boy, but it felt more like a grimace, as he kept picturing Kurt in the cowboy outfit.

Kurt just smiled back. "Well, if you are hungry, I made some breakfast for us. Dad had to go to the garage, he had an emergency tow call, and Finn hasn't come home yet. Carole is out of town for the weekend."

"Your dad left us alone? I kind of got the impression he wasn't happy I was here at all."

Kurt laughed. "I swore that nothing happened between us and nothing will happen. We're just friends."

"Just friends, right." He almost sounded disappointed. He glanced down at the ground, and spotted the black shirt on the floor. Kurt spotted it as well, and stepped forward.

"You knocked something off." The boy picked up the shirt and smiled at it fondly.

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to." He knew his voice sounded wrong, and apparently Kurt noticed as well.

"Are you okay?"

Blaine opened his mouth to say he was fine, but that wasn't what came out. "Put it on."

Kurt frowned at him. "What?"

Blaine pointed to the picture on the cork board. "I-I want to see you wear that outfit."

The other boy laughed. "Why? It's not really my style."

"Please?" Blaine almost begged, puppy dog eyes set to stun. The pale boy studied him curiously for a moment, and then rolled his eyes.

"Fine." He gathered up the shirt and pants.

"The boots and hat, too," Blaine insisted.

Kurt sighed. "You better not laugh at me, though."

Blaine had to swallow twice before he could answer. "Promise, no laughter."

The closet had felt spacious when he'd entered, but now it felt like it was shrinking around him. He rushed out behind the auburn haired boy and paced as he waited for Kurt to come out of the bathroom.

It seemed to take forever for the taller boy to change his clothes, and he could hear Kurt muttering from behind the closed door. When it was finally open, Blaine stood there, stunned, staring.

Kurt didn't seem to notice. He was tugging at the jeans and shirt, both of which were much tighter now than they had been a year and a half ago. "Happy now? I look ridiculous!"

Blaine was incapable of speech as his eyes devoured the pale boy from bottom up. Those legs had been killer a year and a half ago, and now they were positively sinful! And oh god! That ass! He clenched his fist, wanting to grab on and never let go. His eyes got stuck on the fly of those jeans. He could clearly see the outline of Kurt's cock. Which suddenly seemed to be growing.

"B-Blaine?" Kurt said, voice sounding higher and breathier than usual. Blaine finally managed to tear his eyes away from the other boy's crotch (good lord, was the pale boy really that Big?) and found those glasz eyes staring back at him, dilated almost impossibly wide with lust.

He didn't remember moving, but in the next instance he had the older boy pinned to the wall, mouths fused together in a demanding kiss. His hands found that ass and molded to the twin globes, as Kurt's hands fisted in his ungelled hair. As he thrust his hips forward, the countertenor made the lewdest sound Blaine had ever heard, and rocked his own hips forward in response, spreading his legs so that Blaine settled more firmly against him. Blaine made a lewd sound of his own, and thrust forward again.

The need for air finally forced their lips to part, but only long enough for them to draw in needy lungfuls, before they were kissing again, tongues dueling for dominance. Blaine moved his hand around to the lithe boy's chest, tugging at the snaps that kept the shirt closed, hearing a series of satisfying pops as they parted. Only once their chests were pressed together skin to skin did Blaine realize he hadn't put a shirt on.

He thumbed over the pale pink nipples exposed by the open shirt, and Kurt involuntarily bucked his hips hard at the contact. The dark boy broke their kiss once more to kiss his way down the porcelain neck, over the collar bone, to trace his tongue over the sensitive nubs. Kurt was keening and undulating against him desperately, hand still fisted in Blaine's hair.

The darker boy began unfastening those torturous jeans, and somehow managed to get the damn things off without removing the boots. He grabbed Kurt's hips again and began moving back towards the bed, unfastening his own jeans and shucking them and his shoes and socks before sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling Kurt down to straddle him. They both groaned in pleasure as as their erections pressed together, only the thin barriers of their Jockey shorts separating them. Then Blaine captured his mouth again in another long hard kiss, while rocking up against the boy in his lap.

"Fuck! Ride me, Kurt!" Blaine cried out.

Kurt, still wearing the boots and cowboy hat, rolled his hips down and forward repeatedly, thrusting their lengths together again and again. His head dropped back on his shoulders, his hands bracing him on Blaine's shoulders. Blaine lay back on the bed, wiggling until Kurt straddled him more fully. The pale boy had to switch his grip from the darker boy's shoulders to his chest, and increased his pace. Both boys were panting, gasping, Blaine's hands gripping Kurt's hips hard enough he thought there would be hand prints there tomorrow, urging the other boy to thrust harder.

"Oh god yes, Kurt! Ride me, cowboy!" The boy leaning over him bucked wildly at his words, and soon Blaine was coming hard in his underpants. Kurt let out a wild cry and followed him a fraction of a second later, then collapsed on top of him, both trying to calm their racing hearts and catch their breaths.

Kurt was the first to find his voice. "Cowboy?" He asked, the smirk unmistakable in his tone.

Blaine laughed. "Sorry. It's just I've been fantasizing about this since I saw you the first time."

Kurt sat up and looked down at him, a confused expression on his face. "You've been fantasizing about me in cowboy gear since we met on the stairs at Dalton? You have some kind of Western fetish or something?"

The darker boy blushed. "Actually, I've been thinking about it for a year and a half, I just never realized it was you I'd been having wet dreams about."

Kurt's frown deepened, and he sat up even more. "I don't understand."

"Do you remember the Invitational New Directions had in September 2009?" Blaine asked.

"Vividly. How do you know about that?" Kurt sounded a little suspicious.

Blaine smiled and rubbed the other boy's arm. "I was there. It was before I transferred to Dalton. I was still at Westerville High, and I was the lead singer for The West End Crew, their show choir. We were one of the groups you invited. I saw you doing Last Name with that older woman, but I couldn't look away from you. It was seeing you dance and how comfortable you seemed with yourself that actually made me decide to come out at school."

"But why didn't you realize it was me?" Kurt asked, still confused.

Blaine shrugged. "After I was attacked, I had memory issues. I could remember events that happened, but not the details. I forgot that that invitational was at McKinley, and the names of the two teams we competed against. I remembered the boy I was infatuated with, but I never saw your face clearly, I was seated in the back row. It wasn't until I saw the boots in your closet that I put two and two together."

Kurt was about to ask something else, but they both stiffened when they heard the garage door opening. They scrambled to get dressed before Burt Hummel could catch them.

…

Sunday night, Blaine was waiting at Dalton for Kurt to return so they could talk some more, but was surprised when the taller boy just took him by the hand and all but dragged him upstairs to his dorm. It wasn't until the door closed behind them that he noticed the odd bulge in Kurt's bag. The auburn haired boy smirked at him mischievously and unzipped the bag.

Blaine thought his eyes would pop out of his head when he saw the cowboy hat and boots laying on top, along with lube, condoms, and a headband sporting a pair of bull horns. His body shivered when Kurt leaned in and whispered in his ear.

"Saddle up!"

…

Twenty minutes later, Wes Montgomery frowned at the sounds of country music coming from his countertenor's dorm room. He didn't think Kurt was into that kind of music. And then he heard his lead soloist singing Ty Herndon's You Can Leave Your Hat On." What the hell?

His eye nearly bugged out of his head when he heard Kurt shout "Yee-haw!"

…

A/N Okay, so now that I'm beet red from blushing so hard, I really hope you liked this one shot.

Please review!