A/N: THIS WAS A PROMPT FILL FROM THE GLEE KINK MEME ON LIVEJOURNAL. I'D POST THE ACTUAL PROMPT, BUT I LOST IT AND CANT RE-FIND IT. I'M NOT A HUFFELPUFF. SORRY GUYS. BASICALLY THIS IS A 5 TIMES PLUS 1 FIC WITH THE FIVE TIMES KURT ACCIDENTLY TURNED BLAINE ON BY WEARING HIS CLOTHES LIKE A "VICTORIAN SMUT" AND THE ONE TIME HE ACTED ON IT. (FOR THOSE WHO ARE LIKE WTF? VISIT AND SEARCH 'SANTANA'S GUIDE TO SEXINESS') FIRST CHAPTER IS THE FIVE, RELATIVELY INNOCENT TIMES, AND THE SECOND CHAPTER IS THE SMUT. IF THIS ISN'T YOUR THING, TURN BACK NOW, OR FOREVER WISH YOU HAD.

DISCLAIMER: SINCE I AM NOT 1) BALD 2) A GUY 3.) RYAN MURPHY, I clearly don't own Glee. If I did, why would I post my stuff here? Don't sue, or I'll sick Sue on you. ;)

1.) The first time it happened, it was after the Shove. We were sitting on the stairs outside when I opened my big mouth and asked Kurt to lunch. We ended up skipping the next two periods to eat at a café just outside of Lima. Just as our food was being delivered, Kurt shed his coat and his scarf. Usually this wouldn't be that big of a deal, but Kurt was only wearing a button-down. No vest, no bowtie, and the top two buttons were even undone.

"Don't mind my lack of fabulous accessories. It's too hot to wear the scarf," he said, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

"Kurt, it's fine. You've seen me in much worse," I replied, suppressing the growing blush that threatened to overtake my face. Kurt's skin looked so soft and silky. I really wanted to pull him in my arms and just stroke his shoulders. Crap, that was strangely arousing. Luckily, I was able to hide my embarrassing state by digging into my food.

2.) The second time it happened was just after a date in the springtime. I had finally grown a pair and asked Kurt out, and we had been officially dating for a little over a month. It was an unusually cold day and Kurt and I were curled up on his living room couch, a classic Disney movie playing on the TV. My beautiful boyfriend had decided to wear one of Finn's old sweaters.

"He shrunk it in the wash," Kurt said, as if that would explain everything. "He gave it to me after he tried it on and it was at least a size too small. The color brings out my eyes."

Even though the royal blue cable-knit sweater had shrunk in the wash, it hadn't shrunk enough to fit Kurt properly; it was still at least a size too big. Whenever he shifted next to me, the sweater slipped down his shoulder, baring the creamy, pale flesh. I was half-hard when Kurt cuddled into my side.

"Blaine, you're so warm," he purred, nestling his face into my neck, giving me a perfect view of his shoulder. With a deep breath and a well-hidden palm to my crotch, I pulled Kurt even closer, relishing in our prime cuddling time.

3.) The third time it happened, it was during the summer. Gone were the layered shirts, sweaters, and scarves. In their place, Kurt alternated between wearing skin-tight jeans and short-sleeved button-ups with the occasional bow tie, and gauzy tanks with shorts. Today was one of the rare days where Kurt was actually allowed to come over to my house. My liberal Aunt and Uncle were staying over for a weekend while my parents were away on one of their many business trips, and they said I could have some friends over for a pool party. Needless to say, most of the Warblers and New Directions crew showed, and with the bonus of adult supervision, Mr. Hummel actually gave his permission.

David and Wes had bothered Kurt for an entire hour before he finally agreed to get in the pool. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Puck had lifted him into his arms and tossed him into the deep end. I couldn't help but gawk at my boyfriend as he surfaced.

Wet was definitely a good look for Kurt. His normally immaculately styled hair was plastered to his forehead, and his milky white skin glistened in the afternoon sun. I was pulled from my ogling by a slap on the back from Puck.

"Dude, you're staring. Might want to pick your jaw up from the floor," he said, looking Kurt over. "I've gotta admit, Hummel is hot, even if he's a guy."

I shot a particularly nasty glare at the self-proclaimed "sex shark".

"Dude, seriously, you should tap that. He's practically begging for it" he commented, staring at Kurt's ass. Okay, that's it…

"Puck, as wonderful as it is to know that you are attracted to my boyfriend, lay off. Kurt and I aren't to that point in our relationship yet, but even if we were, there's no way I'd be talking to you about it," I growled.

Puck held up his hands in defeat. "Sorry, dude. I'll back off. Good luck though, everybody here knows how he's affecting you," Puck said, walking off to take over grilling duties from Finn.

"Hey, Blaine?" Kurt called from the side of the pool. (He had climbed out.) "Can you get my back with the sunscreen?" he asked, innocently digging through his bag for a bottle.

"Sure," I managed to squeak out as said bottle was thrust into my hand. Everybody stared at us as Kurt finally shed his soaked shirt, exposing more skin to the sun. It was official: I was screwed.

4.) The fourth time it happened, it was on the first day of school. He was standing at his locker, talking to Mercedes when I tapped him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, can I ask you a question? I'm new here," I said, recreating our first meeting on the Dalton staircase.

Kurt turned around slowly, as if he thought it was a prank. "Blaine?" he questioned, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow at me.

"Hi," I replied, offering Kurt a bright smile. My boyfriend looked me up and down once, taking in my outfit for the day. (A tight black t-shirt, red skinny jeans, and a pair of worn-in converse, if you were wondering.)

"What are you doing here?" he asked, not quite comprehending the situation.

"I'm actually trying to find my first class. Honors Trig with Lifen? Care to walk me to the classroom?"

The next moment, I had an armful of very excited Kurt, his usual rules about PDA out the door.

Our moment was ruined when a group of six jocks came around the corner, each carrying a different colored slushie.

"Welcome to McKinley, fag," one said, launching the frozen drink at Kurt and I. Imagine my surprise when Karofsky came out of nowhere, opening an umbrella to shield us.

"Thanks for the welcome, Azimio. It was nice," he said, shaking the frozen rainbow off of the umbrella.

Karofsky patted Kurt on the shoulder, accidently ruffling his top as the jocks left, looks of disgust on their face. The two seemed to have a silent exchange before the larger boy turned to me, his hand extended.

"Welcome to McKinley. I'm Dave. Star athlete, leader of the Bully Whips, and queer as a three-dollar bill. I hope we can be friends, Curly," he said.

Kurt gaped, his shirt now showing just a hint of his collarbone, and I felt myself flush.

"Blaine Anderson, and sure, we can be friends," I replied, shaking Dave's hand. He surprised me again by leaning in.

"Congrats on getting with Fancy. He deserves someone like you." And then as quickly as he came, Dave Karofsky left.

"Blaine, you okay? You look like you're running a fever," Kurt asked, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead.

"Fine, Kurt. Just fine," I croaked, my blush deepening as Kurt's forearms were exposed. The boy was really too sexy for his own good. The worst part was that he didn't even notice it.

5.) The fifth time it happened, it was at one of the Hudmel's Friday night dinners. This week was odd because both Rachel and I were invited. Kurt and Carole were cooking, and Rachel and Finn were coming once basketball practice was over, leaving me to awkwardly sit with Mr. Hummel in the living rom.

"So, Blaine, what are your intentions with my son?" he asked, cutting to the chase.

I swallowed audibly. "Well, sir, I love Kurt. I don't intend to leave him," I replied, ignoring the question Mr. Hummel had really been asking.

"You're not pushing him into things he's not ready for, are you?" he asked. I felt my face flush at the question.

"Dad! Of course Blaine isn't pushing me! We haven't done those types of things yet," Kurt said walking into the living room.

"Hey, babe. Need any help?" I asked, surprised when Kurt plopped down on the couch, molding himself into my side.

"Thanks for asking, but no. Pasta doesn't take a lot to make," he replied, nuzzling into my neck like he'd done so many times before.

Mr. Hummel looked slightly uncomfortable with our displays of affection, but thankfully, he didn't mention it. We sat there, Kurt in my arms for a while until it was time for dinner. As Kurt stood from the couch, he stretched, exposing a sliver of his gorgeous pale skin just above the waistband of his pants. Needless to say, I was very thankful that I was first to sit down at the table, the blessed mahogany shielding my erection from my boyfriend's family.