A/N: So this is my first story, and it's pretty AU-ish. Blaine and his friends all live in Australia. But that's all you need to know for now.

Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

The electronic "bing bong" of Blaine Anderson's phone pierced the blissful oblivion of sleep like a needle. Blaine let out a groan, and opened his eyes blearily. It was still slightly dark, and his eyes took a while to adjust.

He groped around on the bedside table for his iPhone, and, taking hold of it, looked at the display screen. "1 new message - Jeff"

It would only be Jeff who would text him at such an absurd time. He opened the message, and blinked again to adjust his eyes to the light of the screen.

Hey u going to the beach today? – J

Blaine shook his head wondering why his friend happened to be awake at – what time was it? He checked the clock on the table – 4:58. Sighing heavily, and typed out a reply.

Yeah I'll be there – B

He set his phone down on the table again, and leaned back into the pillows, shutting his eyes. Blaine sighed again; the sleep that Jeff's text had so rudely interrupted was not coming back to him. He threw the duvet covers off himself and rolled out of bed, his feet hitting the floor, which was freezing. Shivering a little, he crossed the room to his wardrobe and flung open the doors. Luckily, his wetsuit was right at the front, and he pulled it off its hanger. It was still a little damp, but that was normal, it didn't seem to be able to keep up with the rate Blaine went for a surf.
He pulled his boxer shorts down, slipped into the swimming trunks that were on the hanger too, and then stepped into his wetsuit, pulling it up to his waist and letting the arms drop down by his sides. It was early, very early in fact, and the other occupants of the house – his grandparents – were likely to be still asleep. Trying not to make too much noise, he grabbed his zinc, sunglasses and towel that were in an untidy pile by the door, and crept out of his bedroom.

The Anderson's house was large; Blaine's bedroom was on the second floor, quite a bad decision on his grandparents' part, for they were often roused by Blaine making his way down the stairs in the early hours of the morning to go to the beach, which was right on the doorstep. Blaine's nana and pop were rich, very, very rich. How else would they be able to afford a house as grand as this, on the threshold of one of the most beautiful beaches in the world?
On the second floor of the house were the bedrooms, and a number of bathrooms. A flight of stairs led down to the kitchen, lounge, and living areas, then another flight of stairs went down to the basement, the garage and the home cinema. So technically, there were three storeys, plus the pool outside – which was rarely used by anyone as the beach took its place – and the tennis courts. Blaine loved his grandparents' house, and the location was not far from perfect.

He reached the second flight of stairs and ran down them two at a time. The basement was regularly used by Blaine, but not by the other inhabitants of the house. It contained Blaine's surfing stuff, a couple of gym machines and in the corner were a few couches set up around a TV. His grandparents often remarked that Blaine spent more time in the basement than he did in his own room, which was mostly there for sleeping.
His boards were up against the wall, and Blaine picked his preferred one up carefully, and tucked it under his arm. The house really did lead straight onto the beach; Blaine had to walk five paces before his toes were in the sand of Castor Bay. He dumped his towel, phone, and sunnies onto the sand and rested his board a little more carefully next to them. The pot of bright blue zinc was opened and smeared over his nose and mouth, then Blaine slipped his arms into the sleeves of his wetsuit and pulled on the cord at the back to zip it up. He picked up his board and jogged down to the water, a grin splitting onto his face. He stopped just before the waves could wash onto his toes, admiring the sight of an almost deserted beach; he had a few hours to himself before the usual surfies turned up.

Better get going then, he thought and ran into the water.

...

"Please fold up your tray tables and make sure all bags are stowed under the seat in front of you. The seat belt sign is now switched on."
Kurt Hummel paused the movie he was watching, grumbling under his breath because he wouldn't be able to finish it, and turned the small screen off. His father sat next to him, folding up the tray table and saying something to his wife Carole, Kurt's step mother.

"We will be landing in Sydney in approximately 35 minutes," the loudspeaker announced as Kurt looked out the window of the plane. The view out the window looked similar to Ohio, just slightly greener, with not so many roads.

"Excited?" his father asked from the seat next to him.

"Yeah," Kurt said, feigning enthusiasm.

To be perfectly honest, he would much rather be back in Lima with his girls, his entire wardrobe, and no scorching sun that was guaranteed to make his face peel. He was excited to see the opera house but would rather stay away from any beaches altogether for the duration of their holiday.
Burt was visiting his brother and somehow had convinced Kurt to come along too. Finn had gotten out of it, saying he had to help Mr Schue, their glee club director, with something and that he wanted to spend quality time with Rachel. So Kurt was off to Sydney with his dad and step mom. He knew no one, so it was going to be hard making friends. And he was stuck here for the whole summer long.

He felt the plane descending rapidly, and he felt his stomach drop a little. He had never like flying; on the way to Nationals he'd thrown up on both the take off and the landing.

They hit the tarmac and Kurt let out a sigh of relief.

They were staying with Burt's brother, in some place called Castor Bay. Right on the beach, just brilliant. Jack - Burt's brother, had a step-son Kurt's age according to Burt, called Matt. To be honest, Kurt wasn't excited about meeting him, he was expecting an Australia Karofsky or Azimio. And the prospect of yet another bully did not appeal to Kurt whatsoever.

"Thank you for flying with Qantas airlines, we hope to see you again soon."
The loudspeaker shook Kurt out of his thoughts and alerted him to the fact that Burt and Carole were already out of their seats and reaching for their bags.

"C'mon buddy," Burt smiled at Kurt, and the teen stood up so fast he hit his head on the sloping roof of the plane.

"Shit," Kurt swore, and a few of the other passengers gave him strange looks as he massaged his head with one hand and grabbed his bag with the other. As he straightened up he caught sight of his dad chuckling.

"What?"

"You ok?"

"Yeah… I guess I'm just…" Nervous was the word he was thinking of but he didn't want to say that. "Tired, that's all."

Burt gave him a look.

"I'm fine Dad, honestly."

"If you're sure…"

Kurt rolled his eyes, and pushed his father lightly into the aisle.

The trio exited the plane and made their way through Customs, baggage collection and then out into the arrivals lounge.

"Burt!"

Kurt turned to see a balding man, with tanned skin, wearing very short and very grubby shorts, gumboots and an equally dirty, oversized jacket that was plaid red.

He could have not been any more typically Aussie. Kurt wanted to shove a stem of grass in his mouth, like the typical farmers in the movies, but he dismissed the feeling as Burt embraced his uncle. "You must be Kurt!" The teenager smiled to himself as Jack spoke in accent so predictable it made Kurt want to laugh out loud.

"Uh yeah," he smiled shyly, returning the hug, and then walked behind the three adults as they talked. The first thing that hit him when he stepped outside was the heat. It was sweltering, and Kurt now knew why his uncle was wearing the clothes he was. Jack led them to the "car" which turned out to be a beat up Toyota Hilux, peeling paint and accumulating rust on every surface.

"Just chuck your stuff in the back, Jack grinned at the Americans. Burt joined his brother in the front while Kurt and Carole squished into the back with the incredible amount of luggage they seemed to have. Kurt kept quiet throughout the journey, partly listening to the adult's conversation but mostly keeping his attention on the surroundings that flashed past the car window. His observations before landing had been accurate: Sydney was a little like Ohio, just greener and you could see the beach from the road they drove along.

"House is just up here," Jack swiveled his head to grin at Kurt and Carole. Kurt smiled at his accent; it would take a little getting used to.
They rolled into the driveway, and Kurt took in his surroundings. At the end of the gravel driveway was a villa, old, but vintage and cute in Kurt's opinion. The house backed onto land to the west and the beach to the east and despite his misgivings of the bay at their doorstep, Kurt had to admit the scenery was idyllic.

They retrieved their bags from the car and followed Jack inside. "Right, Kurt your room is upstairs, second on the left, next to Matt's. Carole and Burt, yours is just down the hallway."

Kurt set off up the stairs, and did as he was told, pushing open the door to the second bedroom on the left. It was a reasonable size, painted a pretty blue colour, with a bed, a table, and a reasonable sized sliding door that Kurt guessed contained a wardrobe. Next to the bed Was a large window, which gave a pretty good view of outside. There was a tree just outside the window too, which Kurt took note of in case he ever had to sneak out. He unpacked all his clothes, setting them up neatly, then shimmied out of his extremely tight jeans and freed his legs from the furnace they had been in, before changing into some pale grey cargo shorts and a short sleeved white shirt from the latest McQueen range that had come out the previous Thursday. The shorts and shirt were still skin tight, but he felt cooler already as he tucked his suitcase under his bed.
He made his way downstairs, to find his father, Jack and Carole in the lounge. "Take a seat, kid," Jack grinned. "Matt's out with his mates at the moment, he should be back soon."

Kurt nodded, flashing a quick smile at his uncle. He sat around for a minute or so, while the adults chatted, then got bored and stood up. "I'm gonna go have a look around..." He said to his father.

"Yeah sure Kurt, just be back before 5."

Kurt nodded, and shot out the door.

He walked around the town for a while, popping into a couple of shops, then felt like he was missing something and though he had previously been against the idea, Kurt started down the little path towards the beach.

You're gonna peel. Oh well, if there are cute boys, it's worth it.

The beach was long, it stretched down to the horizon, where it swung around a cliff and probably continued on the other side.

The sea rolled out to the horizon, clear blue and sparkling in the midday sun. Kurt strolled along the sand, watching the surfers absentmindedly, hands deep in his pockets.

"What's a cute guy like you doing all on his lonesome?" A voice behind Kurt made him jump, and a low chuckle sounded as he turned around.
The boy in front of him was a little shorter than he was, with stunning hazel eyes and dark curly hair. Kurt felt a blush climbed up his neck at the compliment, and it intensified as his gaze traveled from the boy's face to his midriff. He was wearing just a wetsuit, the chest part pulled down and the sleeves hanging around his waist, revealing the chiseled physique underneath. Kurt forced his eyes up to the boy's face, and knew he'd been caught out. "See something you like?" he chuckled, in the same accent as Kurt's uncle. The fairer haired boy was now crimson.

"I'm Blaine," the surfer said, holding out a hand, which Kurt shook. "You knew around here? Haven't seen you before."

Kurt nodded as the two of them began walking down the beach again. "I'm Kurt, I'm here for the summer holidays."

"You American?"

"Yeah. From Ohio."

"I could tell by the accent," Blaine grinned, steering Kurt away from a group of rowdy teens playing beach volleyball.

"I'm not the one with the accent!" Kurt exclaimed. "You are!"

Blaine laughed again, smiling even brighter - Kurt thought his smile was cute, then blushed again.

"Nah uh! Say the 13th element of the periodic table."

Kurt thought for a second. "Aluminium."

Blaine cracked up laughing.

"What?" Kurt said, a smile creeping onto his face.

"It's 'aluminYUM,'" Blaine said insistently.

"Nope," Kurt shook his head.

"Yep," the other boy laughed; his laugh was infectious, light and bubbly, and Kurt couldn't help but laugh with him.

"Blainers!"

Someone tall and blonde jumped onto the dark haired boy's back.

"Get off, you dick ," Blaine chuckled, wriggling his shoulders to escape. The blonde let go, and turned to look at Kurt. "Who's this charming young lad?"

"Jeff this is Kurt, from Ohio. Kurt, this is my best friend Jeff."

Jeff was also wearing a wetsuit, but it was zipped up, and his blonde hair was sodden.

Kurt smiled, and extended a hand for Jeff to shake. Instead, the blonde boy pulled him into a hug, slapping him on the back. "Welcome to Castor Bay, Kurt from Ohio."

"Thanks," Kurt smiled back, rather astounded that he already had not just one friend but two. The trio walked along the sand, Kurt in the middle and the two Australians chatting happily from either side. "You should have seen Locky before, caught the best wave I've seen in a long time," Jeff said excitedly.

"Does everyone here surf?" Kurt asked.

"Most people can do the basics," Blaine grinned.

"It looks terrifying.

"Wait you've never surfed before?" Jeff exclaimed with a tone of mock horror. "We have to teach you!"

"You've got all summer," Kurt laughed, staring out at the hundreds of surfers bobbing up and down in the glittering sea.

The three boys continued along the sand. "So where are you staying?" Jeff asked.

"Um..." Kurt racked his brain for the road name of his uncle's house. "Trinity Avenue."

"Oh down by the skate park?"

"Um maybe?" Kurt laughed. "We flew in today, so this is my first time exploring."

"We should give you a tour!" Blaine said eagerly. "Show you the sights and sounds of Castor Bay!"

Kurt looked at his watch. He had to be back in ten minutes. "Maybe tomorrow? I have to be back for dinner."

Blaine nodded. "Sure! Come down to the beach whenever tomorrow, we'll be here the whole day."

Kurt grinned. "OK, sounds good. Bye Blaine, bye Jeff, it was nice meeting you guys." That was a bit of an understatement; Kurt was positively ecstatic that he'd made two friends on the first day in a different country.

"Bye!" The two boys waved and then jogged away, Kurt walking in the other direction.

...

"You liked him," Jeff teased as they slowed to a walk.

"Did not."

"Did so."

"Yes fine, he was nice, but -"

"Don't you but me Blaine Anderson, you fell head over heels."

Blaine rolled his eyes, struggling not to blush. Yes, he'd liked Kurt immediately.

"Well you've got good taste Anderson, I'd definitely tap that," Jeff said cheekily, earning him a glare.

"Ooh protective now, are we?"

Blaine sighed exasperatedly. "Put a sock in it, Sterling."

...

Kurt walked through the door at 5 o'clock on the dot.

"Just in time," Jack laughed as he entered the kitchen, where the adults were setting the table. "Matt!" He yelled upstairs. "Dinner!"

Kurt took a seat at the table next to his father. He heard footsteps on the stairs and looked up to see someone who must have been his cousin. Matt had stringy brown hair, and was wearing just board shorts. "Matthew put a shirt on please," Jack huffed at his son. Matt rolled his eyes then headed back upstairs. He returned just as they started serving, sliding into the chair opposite Kurt, and shooting him a smile. "You must be Kurt."

Kurt nodded. "And you're Matt."

Matt grinned. "Nice to meet you."

The adults made small talk, and Kurt didn't really join in the conversation until his step mom asked if he'd enjoyed his day.

"Yeah it was good, I went around a couple of shops and then went down to the beach."

"Did you make any friends?" Burt asked. Kurt was tempted to roll his eyes at his father's hopeful tone, but didn't and replied coolly.

"Yeah, I met two boys called Jeff and Blaine."

Matt choked on his mashed potato, and Carole had to thump him on the back. "Blaine Anderson?" He said hoarsely.

Kurt nodded slowly. "I assume so..."

"Short, curly black hair?"

"Yeah that's him. Why?"

"He's a dick."

"Language, Matt," Jack said.

"But he is!"

"Blaine is a lovely boy, who happens to be in the surf team that is Matt's team's biggest rivals," Jack explained to Kurt. "I manage Matt's team and that boy Jeff's father manages theirs. While Gary and I get along well, the boys can't seem to do the same."

"That's cause Blaine and his crowd are all so cocky!" Matt protested.

"Oh get over it Matt, Kurt can hang out with anyone he wants to."

"I still think Blaine's a dick. He struts around like he owns the place."

"And I bet he thinks you do too," Jack laughed. "You don't like him because his team have beat you at the Carve-Up for the last three years."

"What's the Carve-Up?" Kurt asked interestedly.

"It's the big surf comp held up here every summer. Surfing is usually an individual sport but once a year they do a team competition. All different age groups, and it's all good fun. But the under 18 round is dominated by Blaine's team and Matt's team. It just so happens that for the past three years, Matt's team have always come off second best, hence the rivalry between them."

Kurt nodded. "Everyone here seems to be able to surf. It looks scary."

"We've got practice boards you can learn on if you want," Jack smiled warmly.

The two boys were left to do the dishes, and Kurt was pleased to find that Matt was talkative. They chatted mostly about their respective countries, with Matt slipping an "I can't believe you hung out with Blaine Anderson," into the conversation every so often.

But Kurt knew he was different from everyone else who'd made his life back in Ohio a living hell. He wasn't mean, he wasn't derogatory and after Kurt had told him he was gay had not shown the slightest homophobic tendency. He climbed into the unfamiliar bed that night feeling pleased; so far, Australia wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be.

The next morning, Kurt was up at almost the crack of dawn. He grabbed his board shorts just in case; he wasn't really planning to swim, but if Blaine and Jeff went off to surf and he was left by himself he felt he could probably have a brief swim. No one was up apart from Jack, who was sitting at the kitchen table reading a newspaper.

"You're up early," his uncle observed, as Kurt slid into the seat opposite, a bowl of cereal in hand.

The boy shrugged, and began shoveling Weetbix into his mouth at a pace that Jack thought could give Matt a run for his money.

"This is good," Kurt said, grabbing the cereal box. "Why don't they have this in America?"

Jack chuckled. "That stuff is royalty here. Everyone eats it."

Kurt brought the last spoonful to his mouth. That was probably a record. He had never eaten so fast in his life.

"Can you tell my Dad I'm down at the beach?" he asked.

"Sure thing."

Kurt smiled and grabbed his bag, which contained a change of clothes in case he got hot in the skin tight jeans and polo he was wearing, his togs, a towel and a bottle of sunblock.

"Have fun Kurt," Jack said with a knowing smile.

The teen felt his cheeks redden. Had he been that obvious at the dinner table last night? Yes, he thought Blaine was good looking, but had no idea whether he was gay - which, knowing Kurt's luck, he probably wasn't. But those golden eyes had caught his attention. And he wanted someone to hang out with for the summer.

Instead of looking in some of the shops like yesterday, Kurt walked briskly down his road and then down the boulevard that led to the sand. His watch read 9:20, and he realised he didn't actually schedule a time with Blaine and Jeff. Oh well, he thought, they were likely to be at the beach for the whole day anyway. There was not a cloud to be seen, the sky was a perfect blue and the sun radiated over everything.

"Kurt!"

A voice behind him made him jump, and he whipped around to see its source.

And there was Blaine, his golden eyes twinkling.

Stop it, Kurt scolded himself. You just met him, and you don't even know if he plays for your team.

"Hi!" Blaine smiled. "You're here early."

"I woke up really early and couldn't get back to sleep," Kurt lied.

"Well the earlier you are, the more time you get down here, which is good!"

The two boys walked along the dunes, Blaine chatting amicably and Kurt mainly listening, nodding and laughing.

"You can meet my crowd," Blaine grinned. "They're a little crazy, just a warning."

Kurt chuckled. "I think I can handle crazy."

...

"Oi, Jeffers." Jeff opened his eyes to see Nick sitting up. The two boys had been sunbathing, and Jeff felt drowsy as the brunette repeated his name. "Jeff bro, you look stoned!"

"Shuddup, Duval," Jeff laughed, sitting up to face his friend. "What is it?"

"Is that the new guy?"

Jeff looked towards where Nick was pointing. Blaine and Kurt were walking towards them. He flipped his sunnies back down. "Yep, that's Kurt."

"Blaine likes him. You can tell from here," Nick chuckled. "I'm glad he's found someone else."

"It looks like he's finally got over everything. And about time too."

A/N: If you liked this, please review, I would love to hear from you!

Castor Bay is not a real beach in Australia (that I know of.) I'm from New Zealand and there is a place called Castor Bay near where I live so I used that.

Next chapter: Blaine and co. take Kurt to see "The Sights and Sounds of Castor Bay" and I might chuck Matt's friends in somewhere too.

Thank you for reading!

~Charlotte