A/N: So this is my take on Klaine, beginning during Never Been Kissed, and continuing on more or less with canon through Kurt's enrollment at Dalton Academy for stupidly hot boys who make me miss class because I'm asleep and having lady-wood wet dreams over their creamy, dreamy eyes and insanely sexy chest hair and that little "oof" face he makes in the picture with the wet blue shirt.

Also, for anyone reading OKFY or BTD, this is exactly why I haven't posted either in a couple of weeks.

Disclaimer:I don't own Glee. If I did, I would already have been fired for trying to convince a pair of actors that prime-time network television is totally ready for hot, graphic gay sex.

Warning: Fluffy!boys, slash, male/male love, non-con

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Their first kiss came from a terrible situation.

"Before today, I had never been kissed."

And you still haven't been, is all Blaine could think in that moment. That shouldn't count. The tears threatening to build in the delicate, beautiful boy's eyes nearly undid his composed exterior. Inside, he was shaking with fury and a fading adrenaline rush. Inside, he wanted to say, Let me make it right. Inside, he could only think of leaning over and taking Kurt's soft face in his hands and giving him a proper kiss.

But outwardly he stood and said, "Come on. I'll buy you lunch."

Kurt was grateful for a friend, and he knew that pushing Blaine into anything would end just a badly as it had with Finn. Gay or straight, no man liked to be forced. He had a feeling that Blaine would particularly identify with that. He seemed like the kind of guy who would was most comfortable when he was in charge and in control of a situation, like when he had Kurt pressed against the edge of the piano, with his slender wrists held behind his back in one of his large hands, and—

"Kurt, are you okay?"

Blaine's concerned toned pulled him out of his seriously inappropriate thoughts and back into the passenger seat of Blaine's surprisingly nice car. "Of course, why?" he asked in as light a voice as he could manage.

"You haven't spoken the entire car ride," he answered, leading Kurt into a small diner near McKinley. "This is really getting to you, isn't it?"

Of course it was. Blaine berated himself for thinking that a simple lunch date would wipe that sick bastard's mark off Kurt's delicate heart. He had to be absolutely traumatized. For someone as innocent as Kurt, having his first kiss stolen must have been more upsetting than any amount of bullying.

"I just…" Kurt trailed off. "I just feel so dirty. Like I need to go home and brush my teeth for a week. It's like—it's like now I'm damaged goods or something."

"Don't think that way, Kurt," he said gently, though the concern and sadness were obvious in his eyes. "Don't ever feel like that."

"Blaine, he—he took a piece of me, of who I am, of my fantasties, I mean, I always thought my first kiss would be with some amazing musical number in the background and some strong, handsome guy, and—" The tears were threatening to spill over those beautiful shining eyes again, so Blaine stayed silent, settling a hand on Kurt's knee as he covered his face to compose himself.

"Kurt," he whispered. "My first kiss, I got punched."

"What?"

"Yeah. Turns out you should ask, not assume." There was enough of a hint of laughter in his voice that Kurt couldn't tell if he was joking or not, but the amusement bubbled up in him anyway. Even as he laughed, he could hear the fine edge of hysteria looming. Blaine's other hand moved to cover his on the table, and the small touches were enough to keep him calm for a few minutes longer.

"So…" Blaine paused, trying to figure out how to ask the question without sounding like he really, really wanted to know the answer. "You've really never been kissed?"

"Well, I made out with a cheerleader once," he answered, blushing. Blaine looked up at him, confused, and Kurt remembered that there were, in fact, male Cheerios—he had just never counted himself among them—so he added, "Like, one of the ones in a skirt." He couldn't bring himself to look at Blaine as he said it.

A gentle snort brought his gaze up. As soon as Blaine saw that he was caught, he at least had the decency to bite his lip and cover the smile and he couldn't help but wonder how those bright teeth would feel clenching against his lip, scraping along his skin—

"I'm sorry," the dark-haired wonder said, letting his chuckle free. "I just—why?" Blaine really hoped that Kurt couldn't see the bubble of panic that he might be questioning his sexuality. Dalton might have a zero-tolerance policy on bullying, but that didn't mean that every gay student felt comfortable expressing that. Blaine was just as alone at Dalton as Kurt was at McKinley, and he wanted to hold on to that connection for as long as possible.

"Just…just trying to conform, I guess," Kurt answered. If he and Blaine stayed friends, he could share the feeling of losing his father to Finn, but that was a topic for another day.

"I know the feeling," Blaine responded, nodding. "So…did you like it?"

"I liked the kissing," he admitted. "But, well, I was sort of…" He blushed deeper.

"Pretending she wasn't her?" he offered, nodding in understanding and not a little bit of relief.

"One of the guys on the football team," he agreed. Kurt grimaced, but was relieved that he wasn't alone. "Have you…?"

Blaine shrugged, nodding. "At my old high school. I was scared there was something—something wrong with me, you know? I mean, you know what it's like in Ohio. It's not as though that's taught as a part of sex-ed or anything, so I always assumed I was screwed up inside, and I tried to force myself to be 'normal'. But then when my mom found me—" Now it was Blaine's turn to flush, and Kurt was amused to see that it flowed from his cheeks down into the collar of his pressed white shirt. "—well, she found me in a position that was difficult to deny."

"With someone?"

"No, just me, myself, and Redtube," he said, laughing openly. "But she was surprisingly really cool with it. And I've never come out officially to my dad, but he pretty much knows that I'm not interested in girls."

"My dad's really understanding."

"I'm so glad to hear that." The emotion in his voice caused Kurt to look up, wondering if Blaine did have a personal investment in his well-being, but then he added, "No one should have to be alone with what we face."

Kurt didn't pray, but he was thankful for having found Blaine—or rather, he thought with a smile, for Blaine having found him—and wondered if there was an appropriate platform for such gratitude. He wondered if they would still be friends the next fall, when the national feasting holiday would give him a not-so-creepy way to tell Blaine how important he was.

"What's got you smiling now?" He wondered if it was another guy, keeping Kurt from facing his demons alone.

"I was just wishing it was Thanksgiving," he replied.

Those thick, dark eyebrows furrowed in the sexiest confused way. "Thanksgiving?"

"Yes," he replied firmly, reaching a hand out to touch Blaine's shoulder. "Because I am so thankful that you came into my life."

He hadn't realized when he reached out his hand how close it would bring their faces, so he quickly leaned out of the close proximity, wishing desperately that he could have moved closer, instead.

"I'm thankful for you, too, Kurt." He smirked. "I'd be even more grateful if you brought your fabulous voice to the Warblers, but that's neither here nor there." And I'd be really grateful if you brought your fabulous voice to the senior dorms so I can find out if you can scream my name in all those octaves, too.

Kurt laughed lightly. "And give up my Marc Jacobs and McQueen for a polyester blazer? I could never." And give up this hellhole to be with you every day? In a heartbeat.

"We don't wear them all the time, you know," he countered. "Just in class and anytime we're on campus. Or at Warblers' events."

"Yeah, because that's not much at all."

"Well, you'd just have to show me your special Kurt fashion on the weekends." Blaine stopped himself talking before he could say anything else suggestive, and returned to his club sandwich. When he looked up, Kurt was hiding his face in his scarf, though he could still see a line of pink along his cheeks. The boy was just so precious. With a sigh, he finished his sandwich as Kurt continued to pick at the small salad he had ordered in silence.

"Kurt," he said finally, and the serious tone told him they were going back to unpleasant topics.

He looked up to find those dark eyes surveying him over a steaming mug of coffee. He had a sudden urge to take a picture of Blaine's eyes and caption it with COURAGE, because looking into his eyes, Kurt was certain he could do anything.

"I know that was he did to you was horribly invasive," he began, setting down the coffee and leaning in to speak even more softly. "I know you're an extremely innocent guy, and I don't know you well, but you're obviously very emotional and very sensitive. I'm sure to you, this feels just like a form of rape. And—and it really is, so you need to deal with it in the same way. Find a way to cope, whatever way of thinking about it you can, and talk with someone. It doesn't have to be me, but I hope you know that I will listen to anything and everything you want to say."

"I just feel so broken, like a piece of me was stolen. And there's no do-over on your first kiss."

"I wish I could give that back to you, I really, really do." Blaine wasn't certain if he was talking about Kurt's missing piece, or his first kiss. Well, he knew which he was talking about, but he wasn't sure which the other boy had taken it as.

The emotions flowing through Kurt were too much, and the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Could you try?"

That question seemed to make sense only in the context of the first kiss option, and Blaine could feel his heart quickening beneath his school uniform.

He looked around at the other diners. He took a deep breath and said in a low voice, "Maybe this isn't the place for that conversation." He dropped a twenty on the table and they left, to spend the rest of Kurt's lunch hour in Blaine's car.

After a moment of silence, he turned to the younger boy and said, "Tell me what you meant, back there," he gestured to the diner.

"It's nothing," Kurt responded, embarrassed to his core. The only gay guy he'd ever met, and he was fawning all over him. "Just forget it. I was just feeling emotional."

"No." There was a gentle urging in his voice, but also a solid core that told Kurt he would never be able to look at this man and deny him anything. So, painful as it was, he refused to look at Blaine.

"Because, I'd like to try to fix it." The words shocked him, and he couldn't help but look into Blaine's beseeching eyes. "I want to help, however I can. I was originally hoping to beat Karofsky's ass, but now that I know he's going through the same things we are, I don't think I could bring myself to it. And I don't think it would really make you feel better anyway." Kurt smiled and shook his head in agreement. "I'm not trying to take advantage of you, here, but if you were asking what I think you were…well, I think I can help like that. I'd like to help you."

"As a friend?" he asked, already knowing the answer. It would have been so much easier, so much less heartbreaking if he had never said anything at all. Now Blaine was going to offer to kiss him, and he would fall, hard, and Blaine wouldn't be there to catch him.

"As a friend with…a particular ability to help you in this case, yes," Blaine responded, laughing and ducking his head. A really adorable blush was creeping up his ridiculously defined cheekbones.

Kurt waited a long time before turning to Blaine, saying, "I'm…not good at finding the line between…between things. You're the only other gay guy I've ever known. At least, the only one who hasn't been openly hostile, and—and I don't want to lose that. I almost lost my brother because I didn't realize when enough was enough—or when no meant no."

"Ah," Blaine said, dropping his head slightly. He understood where Kurt was coming from, and as much as he would have dearly loved to have taken Kurt's slender frame into his arms and kissed him for all he was worth, he didn't know where his feelings for the boy were, and he so desperately didn't want to hurt him. "Well, I can respect that. There aren't a lot of out guys in Ohio, and…there's something special about you, Kurt. A fire that I don't ever want to see anyone douse. If you ever need my help with anything, promise me you'll believe that you can come to me."

"Thanks, Blaine, that—that really means a lot to me," he whispered. "And thank you for coming all the way out here, just to—and thanks for lunch."

Blaine couldn't think of anything to say in response to his half-formed thoughts. He could hear his voice trembling again, and it upset him more than he could say, because that beautiful voice should only be trembling with desire, whispering, "Blaine, yes" and "More, don't stop" and "Harder, harder please".

"Blaine?"

"Hmm?"

"I know I've only known you for like, three days, but would you mind if I called you my best friend?"

Blaine's smile seemed like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "I would be honored."

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Any chance of coffee after school?

Blaine smiled at his phone as he checked his messages after classes that day. Of course, he quickly responded. Seeing his boy twice in one day was like an early Christmas gift.

I'll save our table.

He was so excited that Kurt had decided they had a regular table that he almost bumped into a circle of boys standing on the sidewalk. Mind if I shower first? I'm sure I smell like moldy old building.

Actually, is there any chance you can be here asap? Before I lose my nerve.

The last few words intrigued him enough not to question Kurt's odd request. There was only one appropriate response he could give, so he quickly typed, Courage ;)

He didn't even bother stopping at his dorm to drop off his backpack. Instead, he strode straight to his car and began the drive to their coffee shop. It was nearly halfway between Dalton and Lima, so it always seemed a fair meeting ground.

As he pulled into the small parking lot, Blaine found Kurt standing outside, in the same black skinny jeans and his light blue pea coat he had been wearing earlier that day. That soft grey scarf was wrapped around his neck, fluffed beautifully up to his porcelain jaw line, though he could tell the other boy was shivering slightly. The chill of winter was still upon them, and Blaine wondered why on earth he was standing outside. As he managed to drag his eyes away from how beautiful Kurt was, however, he realized that the boy clutched two cups of coffee and a pastry bag in his hands.

"Are we going somewhere?" Blaine asked as she hopped out of his vehicle.

"It was a bit too crowded for my taste," he replied, lifting the food and drink to show him. It was a popular place, and when they met in the mornings, every table was usually packed, except for the small, dainty high-top he and Kurt had adopted as their own. There was no nearby outlet, so students couldn't find a use for the table—it was barely large enough to hold a laptop, anyway—and romantic couples were not often found at their café at six o' clock in the morning. Blaine looked past the other boy and saw that the only people inside today were the barista and an older guy on a laptop. He raised an eyebrow at Kurt, who only shrugged in response.

"O…kay. So where are we going?"

"Anywhere you want. I've been thinking about this afternoon." He felt his heart give an extra-hard thump as he remembered what they'd been talking about. His hopes deflated a bit when Kurt added, "You did a really great thing for me today. The very least I owe you is coffee and a cherry Danish." Of course, he had been talking about going with him to confront Karofsky.

There was something about him that seemed so sensitive, so close to the edge of something big and Blaine wasn't sure if it was good or bad. He beeped his car unlocked and opened the passenger side door. "Thank you," Kurt replied, stepping in daintily.

When Blaine had situated himself in the driver's seat, he turned the ignition and asked, "So where should I go?"

Kurt gave him directions, barely saying anything else. They arrived at the largest park in Lima—the largest of three, but still—and Kurt instructed him to pull in. They got out and trudged through the snow, headed toward a solitary bench, a pale brown spot on the snow-covered ground. As they walked, Kurt handed Blaine his cup and a cherry Danish, as promised. He took a sip of the hot liquid and was pleasantly surprised.

"Medium drip," he commented approvingly as they sat on the bench. "You know my coffee order?"

His hope that it meant something was quickly squashed when Kurt rolled his eyes, saying, "It's a medium drip, Blaine. Not that complicated."

"True," he replied, warming his hands on the cardboard cup. "I guess I'll have to find something a bit more interesting to test your skills of observation." He smirked sideways at Kurt, but Kurt was staring off in the distance. They fell into a companionable silence.

"My mom used to bring me here," he said at last. "I was so young, but I still remember…"

Blaine looked around, trying to imagine this park in the warm summer months. It seemed like it would be beautiful.

"My parents were married in this park," he continued, as though he didn't remember the other boy was there. "And somehow, I always imagined my first kiss would be here, in the middle of a spring production of The Sound of Music."

Blaine chuckled. It was such a Kurt thing to hope for something so wonderfully impossible. And yet—he had brought him to the place where Kurt had imagined this would happen. Perhaps he was asking for a do-over, after all. "Right here?"

"Hmm?" Kurt turned to Blaine, slightly surprised to have heard him spoke. This park always calmed him, even when he was planning on kissing the boy of his most recent dreams. "Well, not here here." He pointed to a hillock not far from them. "That gazebo over there. It's where they said their vows."

"Where Rolfe and Liesl would sing together?"

Kurt chuckled. "Yes, only…well, not Leisl." He sighed in a defeated sort of way that Blaine hated to hear. "What a stupid dream."

"It's not," he replied sternly.

"It is," Kurt insisted. "Thinking there would be a gay production of The Sound of Music, just so I could get my first kiss? Thinking a public park in Lima would let me be who I am? I was safer in the closet."

Now that hurt Blaine just to think about. That anyone could make Kurt question who he was was wrong and despicable. "Maybe," he agreed carefully. "But were you happier?" He put his arm around the slender boy, who sagged into the saddest weeping he had ever heard.

"Of course not," he whispered. "At least now, I know my dad still loves me, and my friends. It's just when someone like Karofsky sets his mind on targeting me for who I am."

"He's scared of himself, Kurt, you know that," he replied, rocking with Kurt still under his arm. He dipped his hand under Kurt's chin and made him look up. His face was lined with tears, and it had streaked his moisturizer into lovely, sorrowful patterns. "Not everyone is strong enough to mix Garçon and Burberry."

Kurt looked up in mild surprise. "You know what designers I'm wearing?"

"Yes," Blaine said slowly, wondering if that had been a creepy observation.

"Oh." Kurt looked at his Doc Marten boots in curiosity. "Who made my boots?"

"Doc Marten lace-ups, duh," Blaine responded in building confusion. "I have a pair in brown, at home."

"I never realized…" Kurt blushed and stopped speaking.

"What?"

"You're…gay."

Blaine was completely silenced by such an incredibly odd statement. His mouth worked several times before he could make any sounds come out, but those were still indiscernible as words, so he settled for more silence.

"I mean," Kurt added hurriedly, seeing Blaine's discomposure, "I know you're…homosexual, but I'd never realized you were…gay."

That made a little more sense, but it still left a lot to prove to show Kurt that he was very gay, and especially very gay for him. "Miss Katy 'Skin-tight-jeans' Perry wasn't gay enough for you?"

Kurt laughed and just looked at him, remembering that insanely sexy number. "I didn't know you were into guys then."

Blaine gave him a blatant once-over, and responded, "Your gay-dar sucks."

"What? May gay-dar is excellent," Kurt shot back indignantly.

"Straight guys don't sing Katy Perry to other guys."

There was an implied confession in those words, and Kurt would have sat to contemplate them, but he had other things on his mind. Blaine had offered to kiss his boo-boo better, literally, and he was trying to figure out how to bring it up again. Blaine was feeling a bit perturbed that he had tried to musically seduce Kurt before even knowing him, and had just admitted as much to the vulnerable boy. He stood suddenly.

"Come on, let's go."

Leaving their coffee on the bench, Blaine dragged Kurt to the gazebo where his childhood dreams had centered.

As they entered the gazebo, Kurt shivered in the cold and pulled his wool coat tighter around him, but Blaine removed his blazer and tie and left them folded gently across the back of one of the benches. Kurt could see the darker flesh of his nipples, hardening against the white fabric in the cold, and stood under the white arched frame in awkward silence. He wasn't entirely sure what to do, until he heard Blaine clear his throat pointedly. He started, and turned to see Blaine bowed toward him, one hand extended.

He cautiously took the proffered hand, and couldn't help but giggle as Blaine indicated that he should step onto the benches surrounding the small enclosure. He took a few cautious steps over the packed snow on the faded wood, fully aware that his Doc boots were not slip-resistant.

Blaine started humming a familiar staccato theme, and Kurt threw his head back in genuine laughter when he realized it was Sixteen Going on Seventeen, from the precise scene they had just been discussing. He understood now why Blaine had taken off his school uniform; it seemed to fit better for him to be wearing a dress shirt for their impromptu little number. He began singing along gently as Blaine led him, leaping from bench to bench.

"Totally unprepared am I, to face a world of men. Timid and shy and scared am I, of things beyond my kin…" There was a sarcastic bite to his quiet singing that he could not chase away, and it seemed to sour the moment.

He felt Blaine's hand slip out of his, and stopped his turns and jumps to look at the older boy. They met eyes for a moment, before Blaine sang, very quietly, "You need someone, older and wiser, telling you what to do. I am seventeen, going on eighteen. I'll take care of you."

That larger hand reached to him again, clutching his between chilled fingers. They stood together in the gazebo for a moment, and both knew what was about to happen. Kurt was resigned to the eventual heartache, and Blaine was certain that this would be the first step in making Kurt his. A bit breathless from the cold and his pounding heart, Blaine whispered, "A missing piece?"

Kurt nodded.

"Can I try to put it back?" Those beautiful, wonderful, soul-searching eyes were boring into him, and there was only one answer.

"Fix me," Kurt whispered, and almost immediately felt a slight tug from the hand he held, and followed it, so that he stepped down from the higher platform.

As Blaine pulled him into the circle of his arms, he muttered, "C'mere, you." It was casual, and masculine, and not at all the tone you would use for a lover or a boyfriend, Kurt thought. Perhaps they could manage to keep this platonic, after all.

The kiss began in almost a ballroom dancing stance; Blaine still held one of his hands, and the other settled onto his waist. Kurt had expected the kiss to be brief, a light brushing of lips and a quick brush-off, but after their lips had been pressed together gently for several seconds, Blaine seemed to relax into the gesture and drew up the hand still clasped in his, so that Kurt's arm was slung around his neck. He freed his hand, and brushed his knuckles along Kurt's cheek, pulling his lips away slightly as he did so. Kurt sighed a bit, thinking it was over already, but Blaine just tilted his head slightly and pressed his lips to him again.

It was everything Blaine had ever imagined kissing Kurt Hummel would be…only more and better. The soft skin, the delicate bone structure, even how small and frail he felt in his arms. In his boots, Kurt was just taller than he, and having to tilt his head up made him feel a bit protected, even though he was the one trying to help the boy. He let his hand fall against the back of the other boy's neck, holding him in the embrace. Kurt's lips were just tacky enough with moisturizer that their lips stuck a bit between kisses, and it was such a wonderfully intimate feeling.

Blaine never wanted it to end, but he had just declared that he would watch out for Kurt and take care of him. He couldn't go taking such blatant advantage of the boy after that. Reluctantly, he pulled away, keeping Kurt's neck cupped in his hand.

Kurt's lips parted slightly, and oh, it was so sinful. He took in a shaking breath and his eyes fluttered open, just like they would after we made love and he was so well-fucked he could barely see straight. And then his hand floated up to brush across his lips where Blaine's had just been, and then he very quietly said, "You taste like cherries," and it was all too much.

That slightly breathy whisper was nothing more or less than a bedroom voice, and moreover, that was the sexiest thing he had ever heard Kurt Hummel—or anyone else—say. The frustrated groan that rose to his throat was quickly converted into a small cough, though he hoped the shudder he hadn't been able to stop would be attributed to the cold.

"Better?" He didn't know what else to say, but he had to say something, had to make Kurt stop making those innocent, sexy little motions.

"I—thank you, Blaine," he whispered. "That was…" That was the best damn kiss of my life, he wanted to shout, but that wasn't really an option because it was inappropriate and not at all cohesive with the plan of staying nonchalant and platonic. "Now at least half of my kisses have been nice."

"When you put it that way," Blaine whispered, taking a shy step forward, but hardly daring to look him in the eye, "it doesn't seem like I've done much at all."

Kurt stepped back, biting his lip in that adorably nervous way. "Please, Blaine—don't," he muttered. "Not unless…"

Blaine nodded and stepped back, and that was almost enough to crush Kurt on the spot. Not unless it means more, he'd been about to say, and Blaine had understood, and not kissed him, because it didn't mean anything at all.

Blaine knew what Kurt was going to say, Not unless you can keep it platonic. And so he hadn't kissed him, because it would have meant more than he could ever say.

When they came back, their coffee was cold, but Kurt couldn't have cared less. His lips still tingled with the remembered sensations of Blaine's mouth, gently manipulating the soft flesh with his own lips, the gentlest hints of coffee and cherry on his breath.

They returned to Blaine's car, and he drove Kurt back to the coffee shop. Before Kurt could get out of the car, he turned to him and said, "I'm going to leave you alone for a few days."

Kurt nodded dumbly, wondering if this was already the looming end of their brief friendship.

"When you've processed all this, or if you're ready to talk, or if you need anything, call me," he stressed, "and I will answer. But I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to lead you on or take advantage of you in any way, so I will leave you alone for as long as you want me to. And if that means I don't hear from you again….well…that would be your choice."

"If you want me to leave you the hell alone, you can just say so," he replied flatly, looking out the window. "You wouldn't be the first."

"That's the complete opposite of what I want, Kurt," he said softly, and that finally got Kurt to look back at the gorgeous man beside him. "But I am trying so hard not to hurt you, and not to frighten you away, and I'm worried that I won't be able to gauge your feelings as well as you can."

"I've got a lot of homework tonight," Kurt answered carefully. "So I probably won't be able to talk tonight, but I'll call you tomorrow and let you know where I'm at, okay?"

"Okay."

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A/N: So, I'm totally in love with canon right now, and I actually wrote this weeks ago, I think right after BIOTA aired, and I'm working on continuing it, but for now, this is what I've got, and I really wanted to post something Klaine!

As always, rock on, keeping reading, and review!