I don't know. But it's over 1,000 fucking words long. Fuck yeah. Ruth is a beast. This might be multiple chapters. It depends.
"Kurt Hummel?"
Kurt breathed out a little sigh. "Present!" Mr. Anderson's voice was the voice of a hunky angel. He could always hear Blaine, cough, Mr. Anderson emphasise his name with a certain quality he couldn't quite put his finger on. Mr. Anderson checked the last name of his role and stood up. God, he was beautiful. A bright button-up purple shirt with a gray vest and rolled up jeans. He was always spot-on with style and fashion just as Kurt was. He on occasion wore glasses, but today was Wednesday, or fuck-Kurt-with-my-eyes day as Kurt called it. At least one day a week he would 'forget' or 'misplace' his glasses and then would call on Kurt more than five times to answer questions, smirking at him each time he called his name. The way Mr. Anderson said his name even sent Kurt over the edge. There's no telling how many times he had masturbated to it- well too many to count. However, Kurt had yet to find out if he was gay. This was only his first year at New York University.
"Books out to page 166," Mr. Anderson murmured sleepily. He was always sleepy at the beginning of class. He turned his head to wake up, cracking his neck. "Shit," he grumbled, softly rubbing the area.
This gave Kurt too many thoughts. His lips on Blaine's neck, his lips on Blaine's cock as Blaine groaned and filled him with his load. He could imagine Blaine rubbing his neck where Kurt specifically placed his mouth and Kurt sneaking him a sexy gaze during class. Images of what could be flashed is his mind like a movie reel that was jammed. They couldn't stop. Blaine's soft hand caressing his pants and silently teasing him. Kurt biting Blaine's lip, whispering, "You like this, don't you, Mr. Anderson?"
"Kurt... Kurt," he imagined Blaine's moans. "Kurt?"
He was burst from his fantasies by someone shaking him. His defensive subconscious knocked them to the ground with a loud thud.
"Kurt, what the hell?"
It was his roommate, Collin. Class was deserted, papers scattered the floor. Even Mr. Anderson had vanished luckily for Kurt's huge bulge in his pants. Kurt ran over to Collin, outspread on the floor.
"Collin, god, I'm sorry!" He held out his hand.
Collin eyed him curiously, but took the outstretched hand. "What is going on with you, Kurt?" He asked simply. Collin Bass had a way of stating his ideas and thoughts out in the open so simply and so openly. It was a quality Kurt sometimes admired and wished he had, and other times it was a nuisance.
"I just had a hangover is all," he lied easily. "I've been spacing out so much today." He laughed casually. They stepped out of Mr. Anderson's classroom and into the crowded hallway.
Collin looked unsure, but he shrugged. "If you ever need to talk man," he placed his hand on Kurt's shoulder, "I'm here." He furrowed his eyebrows. "I mean, I don't know what guys are like when they date or in bed or anything-"
"Hah," Kurt let out breezily, "I get you, Collin. And thank you. But really, I'm fine."
Collin gave a quick nod and Kurt could tell that he was gracious that topic was dropped. "Okay, see you back at that the room." He turned and walked towards the commons area.
Kurt waved and said, "Don't wait up!" He had to speak with a certain teacher before returning to his room. He strutted to the wooden door with the name Blaine Anderson printed in bold letters. He breathed in, heart thumping. He tapped lightly.
"Come in," an enthusiastic voice called.
Kurt turned the knob so fast, he almost could feel his hand burn. He locked eyes with Blaine Anderson, sitting neatly behind his desk, glasses on. His eyebrows shot up.
"Kurt, what can I do for you?" He sat up a little straighter. Kurt sat in the chair opposite him.
"I was hoping to ask you for a little catch-up. I, um, accidentally dozed off a little in your lecture this morning." Kurt hiccuped nervously.
Mr. Anderson breathed out. He straightened the papers on his desk. "Well, Kurt, I covered multiple topics today such as the French Revolution also the American." He scratched his neck. His beautiful vein-filled neck. Kurt bit his lip.
"I'm truly sorry, Mr. Anderson. A lot has been happening," Kurt said, looking at one of his paintings on the wall. It was a cornucopia of colors such as a blended pink, turquoise, indigo, and mint green. There wasn't a purpose. Just beautiful colors blended very deeply together.
Blaine followed his gaze. "It's an original. I painted it myself."
Kurt turned his head quickly to gaze back into his eyes. "It's amazing!" He smiled. "Are you professional?"
Blaine, or Mr. Anderson, shook his head modestly. "No, I just enjoy it in my spare time."
"You're really talented," Kurt said, in thought.
Blaine scoffed, raising his hand to dismiss him. "So what is going on with you, Kurt?"
Kurt Hummel breathed out. I'm gonna tell him, he thought. I'm gonna tell him right now.
"Mr. Anderson, I- I think I'm in love with you."
Blaine breathed out slowly. It sounded like a sigh. Kurt stared at him. He didn't allow himself to look away. He saw the detachment in Blaine's eyes growing.
"Kurt. I-"
"I'm sorry." He stood up. "I shouldn't have said anything."
Blaine stood up as well. "No! No, Kurt, please, sit." He gestured towards the leather chair.
Kurt hesitated, holding his breath.
"Please," Blaine begged.
Kurt sat back down.
"Kurt. I knew you had a crush, and-"
Kurt cringed. Crush sounded so elementary. "Mr. Anderson. If you aren't going to say something worthwhile, I'd rather just go back to my dorm and cry my eyes out while listening to Adele."
"I love you, too, Kurt."
Kurt blinked. Blaine looked sincere.
"What?"
"I love the way your name lights up whenever I call on you. I love your hair and how it's always perfect in the mornings. I love your eyes and how they glisten when I look at you. I just I love you, Kurt. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you first. But that's another reason why I love you. You're determined."
Blaine stood up. "I want to be with you."
Kurt smiled slowly, a tear running down his face.
Y/N: Multiple Chapters? I kind of want some sex.