You Got Me

A/N: I was sucked in to the whole skank!Kurt, nerd!Blaine thing, okay? Shoot me.

It's Kendra's fault. (kendracandraw dot tumblr dot com) Blame that woman.

Chapter 1

"You're late."

Kurt leant against a row of lockers as he glared at Quinn. She started digging around in her locker, stuffing a couple packs of Marlboro's and a lighter into the pocket of her ripped vest designed with pink skulls. "You were supposed to be here early. It's fifth fucking period."

"I was sleepy," Kurt replied with a shrug, toying at the bicycle chain around his jeans, "so I stayed in bed. It's not like anything happened anyway."

"That's where you're wrong, sunshine." Quinn slammed the locker door shut and crossed her arms as she faced her fellow skank. She smirked once she realized the new piercings in his eyebrows before continuing. "You're never going to have more piercings than me Kurtie, but nice try." Kurt smirked and slouched lower against the lockers, looking at the blonde and pink haired girl expectantly, "And there's a new guy. He's the talk of the school. Pretty nerdy but attractive at the same time, I hear. I don't know how that works…" Quinn trailed off as she thought about it, one finger sporting neon pink and black polka dotted nail polish on her chin pensively.

"Like I said," Kurt stood up and began to lead the way down the hall, Quinn's hips rocking as she followed, "nothing happened anyway. When are we meeting by the bleachers? I need a smoke already."

"After seventh. I have this stupid pop quiz next and you know how strict Smith is."

Kurt started playing with his lip ring as they turned the corner. He took a couple steps before crashing into someone and almost stumbling back. The collision almost sent him tumbling to the floor, but a pair of strong arms caught him before that could happen.

"Oh my—oh I'm sorry. Are you alright?" A deep voice asked. Kurt cursed at the run in before standing up and slapping the person's hands away. He looked up to see an unfamiliar face, a boy slightly shorter than him with dark curly hair that was lightly gelled, wide rimmed glasses, dressed in a burgundy sweater vest and khaki pants. He was tanned and had hazel eyes behind his thick frames, and a look of sincerity that topped it all off.

Kurt in his observance hadn't even noticed that the other guy had dropped all of his books because of their impact until the bumbling teen bent down to pick them all up.

"I'm so sorry, it's just my first day and I'm a little nervous and coming here is a little overwhelming." Quinn stood off to the side with folded arms, waiting for Kurt to hurry up so that they could go. She nodded her head yes to answer Kurt's silent question as to whether or not this guy was who she was referring to earlier, and Kurt glanced down to him watching the talkative boy pick up the last book. "My name is Blaine. I transferred from a school a couple hours away and everything was a lot different. Adjusting is going to take some time—"

"Just watch where I'm walking next time, 'kay big guy?"

The boy nodded and apologized again, and Kurt gave him two patronizing slaps on the cheek before walking away. He strutted down the hall, Quinn laughing at something he said as they walked away, and Blaine raised an eyebrow as he watched them go. They must be the Skanks his new friend Mike warned him about. He could tell from the pink streaks in their hair, generous amounts of piercings, and the tramp stamps each had on their lower back, revealed from the belly shirts they wore.

The late bell rang and Blaine sighed, realizing he was tardy for yet another class on his first day. He huffed as he turned around, scattering off in the direction of the chemistry lab.

….

Kurt took his usual spot at the back of his seventh period French class. He couldn't wait for this class to be over so he could burn down a pack of those cigarettes Quinn had hid away in her locker. The stress of the day was already getting him down. Sure, he'd only been there since fifth period when he was due to show up first, but fifth period alone was enough to send him off his rocker. His teacher was a dumb ass, his classmates were dumb asses, and the stupid girls could only talk about how adorable that new nerdy kid was. Since when are nerds adorable?

Oh well. One more period, and then Kurt could smoke. There was nothing a little nicotine couldn't solve.

Kurt pulled out his cell phone, already bored with class three minutes into it. Out of habit, he began sucking on his lip piercing as he fiddled with his phone. A knock sounded at the door interrupting Madame Fournier from her mini lesson on conjugations, something Kurt was well versed in already, and she headed over to open it.

An 'Aww! He's so cute!' made Kurt look up from the text message he was reading from Quinn. In walked a coy Blaine Anderson, hugging a French text book and apologizing for his lateness.

Fucking great, Kurt thought to himself.

"I'm sorry Madame, I'm still getting used to finding my way around."

Madame Fournier smiled and welcomed him inside before introducing her new student to the class.

"Students, meet your new classmate Blaine Anderson. He just transferred from…"

"Westerville." Blaine added with a smile, pushing his glasses further up his nose, "From a private school named Dalton Academy. I studied Italian there so I might not be up to speed with you all," he blushed shyly and the girls all 'awwwed' some more. Kurt rolled his eyes. This guy was a lame nerd, and he probably wouldn't be trying to get into their pants any time soon. He was probably scared to touch himself. Kurt smiled to himself at the thought.

Huge virgin.

"Say something in Italian!" one girl shouted with a wide smile. Blaine hugged his book to his chest, apparently shocked by all the attention people were giving him. All the positive attention, that was.

"Erm…" he giggled a bit, cheeks tinting a light shade of pink, "Grazie per avermi accolto alla classe." Thank you for welcoming me to the class.

"Awwww!" a collective group of females chanted, though Kurt was positive they had no idea what was just said.

Because of this, Kurt only rolled his eyes harder.

"Okay, class, meet and greet is over." Madame Fournier announced, motioning to the back of the classroom. "Take a seat next to monsieur Kurt Hummel. He's one of my best students, when he decides to show up to class."

The students snorted trying to hold back laughter as Kurt glared at them all.

"Kurt, levez la main de M. Anderson pour voir, s'il vous plaît." Madame Fournier asked Kurt to hold up his hand so that Blaine would know where to sit.

"No." Kurt said simply, slouching lower in his seat. There's no way I'm going to be stuck next to the nerdy virgin all year long, he thought to himself.

Blaine smiled once he noticed Kurt was the boy he ran into earlier, the skank. "It's okay, Madame. It's the only available seat so I think I know my way."

"Perfect." The instructor let Blaine pass her and walk towards the back of the room as she continued with her lesson.

Blaine sat next to Kurt with a smile, even going as far as to drag his seat a little closer into the aisle so that they could speak without getting into trouble.

"So your name is Kurt? I like that name," he began, trying to speak as low as possible. Kurt glared at him with a bitch face he spent many a nights perfecting in the mirror as Blaine continued. "I'm happy I got sat next to you, maybe you could help me with all of this. I don't know the first thing about French—"

"Maybe if you shut your trap and paid attention you'd be able to catch up, Anderson."

Blaine smiled and apologized, turning to face the teacher. Kurt slipped his phone into his pocket and sunk down against the desk, trying to ignore everything around him. Especially how good this dork smelled, and that beautiful shade of brown in his eyes as he rambled on and on, talking non-stop.

Madame Fournier continued to talk, bringing up a "projet de groupe" that she wanted her students to complete in three weeks. "Can anyone tell me what that is?" she asked.

Kurt's head snapped up off the desk as he tried to make sure he wasn't dreaming this. "Group project?"

"Thank you Mr. Hummel! Now," the lady continued, "it's on a French speaking country of your choice. Pick one and give me a research paper, done in French of course, and I want in typed and pretty on my desk three weeks from today."

"We can work together, Kurt!" Blaine blurted out rather loudly, before lowering his voice with a mild blush on his face. "I mean I'll have to make sure my boyfriend doesn't go ape shit, but…"

Boyfriend, Kurt's eyes went wide. He's gay?

Blaine continued talking and Kurt shook his head to come back down to earth.

"Someone give this twerp the memo that he's supposed to be afraid of me." Kurt breathed out tiredly. He turned to a polite looking Blaine who apparently hadn't gotten the memo and said his next words just loud enough for the nerdy boy to hear. "You don't befriend a skank, Blaine. We run this school, and now that you're a slave to McKinley, we run you. And there's no way I'm doing a research paper with—"

"That's a great idea, Blaine!" Madame Fournier announced, "You work with Kurt. I'm sure after three weeks you'll be at a level well enough to get a decent grade in this class. Now, everyone else, listen closely so that you can get your partners—"

"No offense Madame," Kurt spoke up, rubbing a hand down his pierced face, "but there is no way I'm working with this prude. I will do my project alone—"

"And fail this class?" Madame Fournier questioned. Kurt glanced from his teacher over to Blaine, who for the first time all day looked hurt, back to his teacher.

"No Madame Fournier."

"Good. So you will work with Blaine and he will be up to speed in the allotted time. As I was saying," the teacher went back to her introductions of partners and Kurt threw his head into his folded arms on the desks.

This is not happening.

"You don't have to be so rude," Blaine whispered, hurt evident in his voice. "If you didn't want to work with me all you had to do was say so. There's no need for name calling."

Kurt rolled his eyes and sat up. This would be the longest three weeks in the history of his young life, he was sure of it. "I didn't mean to hurt your little virgin feelings, but it's just that I don't want my room smelling like virgin because I'm stuck working on a French project with some nerdy virgin. I would've been much better off getting partnered with Daryl," Kurt smiled, glancing over to the soccer player a couple rows over, "There's a list of naughty things I'd do to that blonde," he said, biting his lip and turning back to face Blaine. "A list that I don't want to explain to you because it'd probably hurt your pristine virgin ears—"

Blaine smiled lightly before interrupting. "I'm not a virgin, Kurt."

Kurt began to cough rather violently at the statement from the new guy and Blaine became concerned, patting the skank on his back in attempt to help. He frowned when Kurt pushed him off, trying to regain his composure.

"Est-ce que ça va là-bas, Kurt?" Madame Fournier asked, trying to make sure her student was okay.

"Oui, je suis très bien." I'm fine, he replied, glaring at the students who were giving him rather questioning looks. They all turned to face front as Kurt rubbed at his tattooed neck, taking deep breaths in the process.

There was no fucking way this was possible. There was no way Blaine Anderson, the new geek from some private school, the dude with the glasses with tape holding them together, and a sweater vest that Kurt's own father wouldn't be caught wearing, had got laid sometime during his life, and he hadn't!

"So, erm… yeah," Blaine continued in a low voice as Madame Fournier resumed her lesson, "if you're worried about getting," he paused dramatically to hold up air quotes, "virgin" and then put them down, "all over your bed sheets and in your home, you don't have to worry about that. I'm not a virgin, Kurt. And I'm willing to ignore how rude you were before because you have something against virgins, for whatever reason," he continued, ignoring Kurt's death stare, "and agree to work with you on this project, so that you don't fail, and I don't either. What do you say?"

….

"I just don't understand, Q."

Quinn took a long drag of her cigarette, already well past annoyed with her best friend.

"How the hell did he get laid and not me? Did you see him today? He's wearing a fucking sweater vest!"

Kurt snatched the cigarette away from her and started to pace as he took a long exaggerated puff from the stick, holding it in his lungs before breathing out. Quinn rolled her eyes away with a smirk that she made sure to hide before her friend could look up at her.

"So he's into sweater vests and school work. I used to be a diligent student. I had sex. He could have sex. It's not that big of a deal—"

"It's a huge deal, Q! You were a cheerleader. He's a dork. He had sex! He's rolled around in the sheets with someone, and I," Kurt poked himself in the chest as he said it, chain bracelets rattling, "Kurt Hummel, haven't!"

"That's rough," Quinn replied uninterested, staring down at her nails, "you gonna smoke that or flail about with it in your hands?"

Kurt took another drag and handed it back to his friend. "This is such bullshit. And now I have to work with him for three fucking weeks."

"Maybe he'll let you hit it so you can stop bitching so much."

Quinn smirked at the scoff her fellow skank let emanate from his lips. "Yeah, right. I'm not losing my virginity to Urkel. I'm not that bad off."

"Oh yeah, you're waiting for the one. Sorry, I forgot. And you called him a prude."

"Fuck you."

Quinn laughed, taking another puff and tossing the roach to the ground. "Listen, I'm going to class. Are you going to be alright out here wallowing by yourself or...?"

"I'm going home. I need to sleep."

"You slept all morning, Kurt. Remember?"

Kurt headed to the direction of the parking lot as Quinn laughed at her best friend, shaking her head in the process.

This is going to be a fun three weeks, she thought.

A/N: Review and let me know how you feel about a continuation :)

-Janelle