This is from my fill on the GKM. Here's the original prompt:

As part of a school program, several Dalton students are getting exchange buddies from countries in which language they are fluent. Blaine with a student from Italy, Nick with a student from Spain, etc. Sebastian is a foreign exchange student from France partnered up specifically with Kurt. At first, Kurt thinks that this is going to be a fun, exciting experience. Turns out that while everyone got really nice, polite exchange partners, he got a total bastard determined to get into his pants.

So, I have 'amarx17' to thank for the amazing beta-ing. This is dedicated to you for putting up with a total LJ newbie like me.

"Hey," Blaine says, and nudges his best friend sitting next to him, his eyes glowing with puppy dog-like excitement. "Did you just hear the news about the exchange student programme?" All around them, students are packing up and starting to trickle out of homeroom.

Kurt blinks himself out of his trance as he gazes blearily at the two Blaine's waving a single hand between them, maniacally in front of him. The countertenor really isn't a morning person, but obviously the bundle of energy to the side of him is.

"Sorry, wasn't paying attention. What is it?" Kurt asks sleepily and Blaine rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "You should really pay more attention, Kurt. You know your grades-"

Kurt holds up a hand to Blaine's face to cut him off and slams his head softly onto the desk. His voice is muffled as he says, "Save the 'grades-are-important-to-a-Dalton-boy' lecture Blaine. I wasn't the one who blasted Katy Perry in our room the entire night so that I couldn't sleep. How can you fall asleep to-to...that?"

Blaine makes a disapproving noise in his throat. "She is a goddess, Kurt. A goddess. Anyway, the song is catchy and I thought you had your earplugs in."

"You can't fall asleep to 'Peacock', Blaine. Seriously. And anyway, Jeff stole them."

"Oh."

"Steering the conversation away from the inevitable hand of revenge that will fall upon Jeff sooner or later, what are you going off about?"

Blaine shrugs but the spark of animation glimmers. "It's for the fluent language students like you and me. Basically, Dalton will get you an exchange student from whatever country whose language you are fluent in to come here so you can study their culture while they learn about all the glories of America. So you put French down and I'll do Italian, now come on. Sign-ups are at the front." He starts pulling Kurt up by his blazer sleeve to drag him to the front but Kurt resists the pull resolutely and narrows his eyes.

"You're presuming that I'm actually going to participate."

"Why not? Come onnnnn Kurt!" Blaine whines, bottom lip sticking out in a pout and letting go of Kurt's poor blazer sleeve, now crumpled with the force of Blaine's enthusiasm.

"Give me one good reason why I'm going to want to take care of some French doofus following me around for..."

"Six weeks."

"Exactly my point."

"But French guys are usually gay…" Blaine hints, eyes twinkling in mischief.

"That's a stereotype Blaine. Save it, I'm not that desperate."

"Kurt, don't make me resort to desperate measures!"

All Kurt does is arch an eyebrow and make a hand gesture that is a universal sign of 'go on, because I'm going to ignore you anyway.' "I already know how your 'desperate measures' take place Blaine. First, you do the whining and the nagging."

In front of him Blaine scrunches up his features and begins to pester Kurt with a litany of "Sign up with me!" while poking him in the arm. After a minute, he deems it ineffective and rubs his chin.

"Next, you'll try with the pitiful eyes," Kurt says, examining his fingernails in boredom. He's seen this done before a million times.

Right on cue, Blaine lets his eyes water and widens them pathetically. This goes on for a whole thirty seconds before he slumps, realising it has a close to nothing effect on Kurt.

"Then, you'll go to guilting me."

"Come on Kurt, you never do anything with me these days!"

"On contrary, who took down Jeff and Nick in that prank war with you? Me."

"That was ages ago!"

"Yesterday actually." Kurt rolls his eyes and cracks his back. "And as a last resort, we head to bribing."

Blaine sulks. "How is it that you don't fall for my other tricks? Wes is out by the eyes, Jeff gives in with the nagging and even Nick caves with the guilt! How do you do it?"

"My little secret Blaine. So, what are you going to bribe me with this time? Rent tickets, the new Alexander McQueen scarf, a free round of coffee at the Lima Bean."

"As much as it kills me to say this," Blaine pauses dramatically, "I'll let you confiscate my 'Teenage Dream' CD from me if you sign up."

"That's all you got?"

"Come on, it's a good deal."

"Throw in 'One Of The Boys' and I'll do it. There's only so much auto-tune I can take per night. But watch out Blaine Anderson, you never said anything about returning them to you."

Blaine looked stricken. "Kurt! You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me."

"I'll throw in two more rounds of free coffee," Blaine wheedles.

"Fine, I won't destroy it," Kurt mutters, put out but looking forward to free caffeine.

Blaine grins. "So let's go sign up now!" And with that, he bounds away to the front of the classroom to print both of their names in excited, sloppy handwriting on the gradually filling piece of paper.

'Finally, proper sleep!' Kurt thinks to himself as he grins inwardly. He gathers up his books and waits outside their classroom for Blaine to catch up. The rest of the day is spent trying to endure an over-enthusiastic Blaine going on about what their exchange students will be like when they come. Kurt groans and feigns annoyance, but secretly, he can't wait either.

'This is it' Kurt thinks to himself, as all the fluent language students are called out of their respective classes by the PA system. 'This is when I find out who's going to be sticking with me for the next four months.' He can feel something flipping in his stomach, and he just can't shake the feeling.

He scans the hallway as he wanders the corridors aimlessly, trying to stumble across one of the lesser known language rooms where he's supposed to be meeting the French exchange, on the lookout for Blaine while he's at it. Then he sees Blaine past the sparse number of students wandering in the halls, either playing hooky or meeting his own exchange student. He strolls over to intercept Blaine as the dapper boy turns to face the grand staircase opposite.

"Hey Blaine."

The shorter boy turns around casually. "Hey Kurt," he responds enthusiastically. "Are you ready to meet the exchanges?"

Kurt rolls his eyes. "I was born ready," he drawls sarcastically before they both burst into laughter. It feels wrong in the near empty hallway and the giggles trail off pretty quickly.

"So which room are you going to?" Kurt asks Blaine, eyeing the staircase behind the slicked back hair.

"Oh," Blaine exclaims and fumbles to flatten out the paper that looks like it has been through war and back.

Kurt smiles wryly. "Blaine, you're not supposed to put that through the dryer, you know?"

Blaine scrunches up his nose and makes a sour face. "Oh haha, Kurt." He finally manages to unfold the paper with only a few major tears in it. He scans it avidly, drinking in the information and memorising it as best he can. "I'm going to the Hanover block, 2nd floor to meet Daniel Romano from Tuscany. How about you?"

Kurt takes out a pristine A4 sized paper, filed away nicely and reads off it. "Windsor block, 1st floor. And my lovely transfer is Sebastian Smythe from Paris." He folds the paper up and places it in his blazer pocket. "I can tell that this is going to turn out badly, and there's a ninety-nine percent chance I'm going to blame this on you." He pokes Blaine lightly in the chest and smirks. Blaine retaliates by raising one of his triangular eyebrows.

"Stop being so negative, Hummel. It'll be fine. No-one can resist your charm after all." He winks and pretends to study Kurt. "Yep," he grins, fixing Kurt's collar to make sure it sat evenly. "You'll be absolutely fine. Now go get 'em tiger." He cocks his head to one side as if he was asking why Kurt was still standing there. "Go!" he gives Kurt a light push down the hall - which by now is completely student free - and vanishes up the staircase before Kurt can protest about the dapper boy wrinkling his uniform. Kurt stares at the vacated empty space, shaking his head slightly.

"Damn you, Anderson," he mutters, and pauses to re-examine his surroundings. Wait, he has to go to the Windsor block! This is Hanover!

"Oh crap!" he yells before clapping his hand over his mouth. He is already 10 minutes late. Damn that hobbit for distracting him. He cursed under his breath and flew across the grounds, heading to the Windsor building. Which was on the otherside of campus.

"Where is he?" Sebastian complains to himself, sighing in annoyance as he perches on one of the rich wooden desks, feet propped up on the teacher's table. She totally deserves it; she had left him all alone just so she could smoke a few cigarettes outside. He files that information away for his school report on America. He didn't fly all the way here to get ignored or stood up. Nope, not at all. Actually, he flew all the way here to cross 'fuck an American boy' off his bucket list. This goal was now postponed by a couple of minutes thanks to his tardy 'caretaker'. He groans and flops back on the desk, ignoring the sharp edges that dig into his back as he stares up at the ceiling.

"Sorry I'm late!" a breathless boy cries in French, running in at full speed.

Sebastian yelps as he registers the sudden arrival of the boy and reacts by rolling onto his side quickly, forgetting about the limited width of the desk and falling to the floor with a loud thump. His shoulder starts aching as it seems to have absorbed most of the blow and, yep, there's gonna be a bruise there in the morning.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry!" a melodic voice calls out in shock, and he hears quick footfalls growing louder as the source of them draws closer. "Here, let me help you up." A slim hand makes its way into his swimming vision and he scowls at it before snatching at it and using it to haul himself up, nearly overbalancing the other boy. He presses a hand to his forehead and rubs his temple furiously with his thumb and index finger.

"You're late," he snarls. He raises his eyes to glare at the mystery boy but freezes. This guy is…breathtakingly beautiful. Blue eyes, pale skin and not to mention his fantastic ass. Looks like he can cross number #44 off his bucket list after all. He straightens up, mentally undressing the boy in front of him. "I am so sorry about that. They never told me my guide was an angel. What's your name, darling?"

"I'm Kurt. Kurt Hummel. I'm surprised they didn't print it on the itinerary. Also, I'm not sure if that's just how they greet people in Paris - in which case disagrees with my entire textbook - or if you're just testing that line out. In which case, it's failing. Epically." the boy says. He arches an eyebrow and sticks his hand out, smirking all the while.

"Oh, no. They don't usually do it that way in my hometown - I'm just the exception. Sebastian Smythe. It's nice to meet you." He grins flirtatiously, pumping Kurt's hand slowly, looking into his eyes and caressing his knuckles lightly with his own thumb.

"O-Okay." Kurt coughs lightly, pulling back his hand hurriedly as he fumbles around in his bag. "Let's get into things. I should have the program for the day in here. Do you have your own copy?"

"Hmm, no. I guess I'm just going to have to read over your shoulder, darl." He's lying. Of course he has the paper. It's tucked safely away in his pocket. He read over it a thousand times while he was waiting. He glances down surreptitiously at his top pocket, praying that the yellow sheet of paper wasn't poking out. And of course, karma absolutely hates him, because it's standing out like a beacon saying 'NOTICE ME!'

"Isn't that it?" Kurt asks, frowning and pointing to the offending slip of paper."And also, don't call me 'darl'". Sebastian glares at it in distaste, hoping that it could just collapse into ashes to spare him the goddamn trouble. He starts to lift his hand, hoping to cover it up and stall before he suddenly changes his mind.

"Why don't you look for yourself?" Sebastian breathes out softly, angling his head down to capture Kurt's blue eyes with a smouldering look. Kurt just looks really annoyed and Sebastian groans mentally. Damn, this kid is either really oblivious or really innocent. Either way, it's a total challenge and a turn-on at the same time.

"You can get it yourself you know." Kurt says tightly, thigh bouncing up and down impatiently.

"Either you get it or I look over your shoulder and 'read'." And yes, he does actually do the quotation marks.

"Whatever." He rolls his eyes and plucks the piece of paper from Sebastian's breast pocket - just over his nipple - and hands it to him. "Now, let's see what we're doing first-"

Okay. So, getting Kurt to brush over his nipple is - apparently - not a big deal to the blue-eyed boy. Shit. So if that didn't work...what will? Sebastian is still pondering when he starts to tune in slowly to Kurt's words.

"-and we're going to have a 'no sexual contact rule', okay?"

Sebastian nods absently-mindedly until the words register properly. "Wait, what!"

"No sexual contact of any sort. It's important that we remain as…friends? It's going to be a bit difficult on my part, you know? We haven't exactly had the perfect start."

"Oh it'll definitely be 'hard' on your part - "

"And don't say things like that either!"

"I didn't agree to anything, though!"

"And, I didn't really give you a choice. Now let's go." He struts out of the classroom, ass swaying. 'That does it,' Sebastian decides. 'At the end of these 6 weeks, I will have definitely fucked Kurt Hummel...at least once.' And on that thought, he straightens up and crumples the programme, chucking it into the bin on his way out. Looks like he'll have to 'read' over Kurt's shoulder after all.

"-here we have the Hanover wing. It's one of the three boarding houses and it holds most of the language rooms as well. The tulip gardens are to the left - stay away unless you're suicidal. The gardener is super paranoid about them. Oh! And there's the-"

Sebastian just can't be bothered. Why focus on the - frankly - rather unimpressive carvings of the building when Paris holds much better architectural beauty? However, there is a fine piece that really catches his eye … In other words, his eyes are trained on Kurt's ass.

" - and so Windsor is - Sebastian! Stop staring at my ass or I'll start walking behind you!"

Sebastian pouts and struggles to lift his eyes up to meet Kurt's. "It isn't breaking our agreement, though."

"Do I have to make another rule? You're driving me up the wall here - "

"Do you want me to drive you into the wall? I bet I could hold you up - "

"Sebastian! I've had to make ten extra rules in the last five minutes because of your inappropriate behaviour!" Kurt says, blushing furiously which only serves to make him look even more endearing and innocent.

"Is that a record?"

"You. Are. An. Asshole. Stop all of -whatever this is- and just focus on Dalton, okay?"

"But - "

"No. And I mean no. We made an agreement - "

"That I never agreed to."

"You nodded!"

"I wasn't listening!"

"Before I get mad at you for not listening, I will bring up the point that you still nodded, therefore making this valid. So just comply, okay?"

Sebastian just stares him down. "Wow, you really don't know me."

Kurt glares and then looks around the campus grounds. "Where's a handy wall when you need one?"

"Oh, changing your mind about the wall sex?" Sebastian asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

"No, I just want to bang my head on it." He pauses in thought. "Or maybe yours."

~Scarlett