A/N: Sorry these chapters are so short. I thought about posting this as a one-shot, but I just wanted to get what I had written so far out there. I think there are probably two more chapters left after this one, but possibly more. Thank you so much to everyone who has favorited, followed, and reviewed! This is my first Klaine fic, just a silly little idea that popped into my head one day after watching "The First Time" again.

"You swear you're okay?" Kurt's eyes, now a kind of steel color, penetrated into Blaine.

"Yes, Kurt, I'm fine." He tried to smile reassuringly up at Kurt, but he knew it wasn't very convincing.

He liked that Kurt was taller than him. It gave Kurt a little leverage, and every now and then he would kiss Blaine almost like in the movies, where he wrapped one arm around Blaine's waist and the other around his shoulders, pulling them together, and Blaine's head tilted back and he just felt…well, he felt like Scarlett O'Hara. Not sweaty, calloused-hands, "I'll never go hungry again" Scarlett, of course. More like Scarlett silhouetted against the sunset as Rhett Butler goes off to war. Of course he would never slap Kurt for kissing him…

He finally came back down to earth when he realized that Kurt was fidgeting. Kurt was not a fidgeter. His eyes were lowered to the floor as he spoke.

"And you're not mad at me or anything?"

Blaine was really confused. Why would he be mad?

"Why would I be mad at you, Kurt?"

"I don't know, but you left so quickly last night that I thought I'd done something wrong—"

"That's ridiculous. What could you do wrong?" Kurt raised his eyes and smiled impishly.

"Well, I am practically perfect, so…" He trailed off as he stared into Blaine's eyes, and Blaine thought maybe it was because Kurt could tell that he honestly agreed. Kurt's eyes fluttered.

"So you're not mad, and nothing's wrong?" He reached out and tugged on the short sleeve of Blaine's button-up shirt, his head tilted and his lips pursed.

"I promise. Let's go to English."

Kurt smirked. "You have Trig next."

"I know, but you have English next, and I want to walk you." He started down the hallway, but Kurt tugged on his arm, stopping him. He turned back to face his boyfriend.

"You know," Kurt started as his head tilted again. "Maybe I want to walk you to class. Did you ever think of that?" He slid his hand down Blaine's arm until their fingers were intertwined between them. Blaine stared at their linked hands for a moment, then glanced up to Kurt's face. His light, perfect eyebrows were smooth and relaxed, the corners of his mouth angled up slightly while his full lips pressed together in that confident, alluring smirk that Blaine just loved.

"Uh, yeah—I mean, no, I guess I didn't…think of that. Do you want to? Take me…um, take me to my—I mean walk me to my class?"

Kurt's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you sure you're okay?" Blaine nodded silently.

"Okay, well let's go before we're both late." He tugged on Blaine's hand and started down the hall.

Blaine followed mutely behind, silently cursing himself for being a stuttering moron.

Blaine had never just assumed that Kurt would bottom. He had all kinds of fantasies about what they could do together, many of which he would probably never be able to say out loud without turning beet red and wanting to dig himself into a very deep and private hole. He wanted to try everything with Kurt.

Before their first time, they had sat on Blaine's bed and awkwardly discussed it, and they had agreed that Blaine should top:

They stared at the condom laying on the bed between them.

"We haven't talked about this before," Kurt whispered.

It was just a packaged piece of latex, but they were eyeing it like it held mystical powers that would somehow declare them either "top" or "bottom." Like a gay sex Sorting Hat.

"Do you…have a preference?" Blaine's eyes flickered between that foil packet and Kurt's serious, almost nauseated-looking face. "I mean, have you thought about it?"

Kurt raised his eyes. "Of course I've thought about it."

"And?" They both blushed a little. Kurt cleared his throat.

"I think…would you mind—I mean, I think I'd like you to, um…" Kurt trailed off, but used the tip of his index finger to slide the condom across the comforter in Blaine's direction. Blaine inhaled deeply.

"Yeah—yes. Of course." He picked it up, trying not to look as nervous as he felt.

Kurt was tracing a random pattern on the blanket with his fingers. "I just…you have a little bit more knowledge about this…"

"It's all theoretical—" Blaine blurted before stopping himself. Kurt was still talking.

"…and I thought you might want to…"

"I do! I mean, definitely, yes." Dropping the condom onto the bed he grabbed Kurt's wandering hand in both of his own and looked him in the eye. "I want to make you happy. I want to take care of you. And yes, I want to be inside you…" Kurt blushed and looked down again. "…if that's what you want."

Kurt's beautiful clear eyes met Blaine's. "It is."

And it had been amazing. Clumsy and hesitant, but amazing. The next time, which had happened at Kurt's house, they didn't talk about it again. As they lay tangled on the bed, naked and eager, Kurt had simply reached into his nightstand for the condom and lube and handed them to Blaine. And so it continued. Every time was better than the last, and Blaine was becoming more and more confident in his ability to please Kurt. And Kurt was so responsive, becoming ever more vocal about what he wanted:

Blaine knelt on the floor in front of Kurt, who was seated on the edge of the bed. His hands were on Kurt's spread thighs, gently massaging the creamy skin as he took Kurt's erection into his mouth.

"Holy—Blaine…" Kurt groaned, clutching the loose curls at the back of Blaine's head in both hands. The tug and light sting of his hair being pulled felt surprisingly erotic, and Blaine began sucking more eagerly, sliding his mouth as far down as he could before pulling back with hollowed cheeks.

He raised his eyes to meet Kurt's. The shining blue-greys were opened wide in wonder and lust, and Blaine moaned around Kurt's cock, causing a shudder to run through his boyfriend. He slid his hands farther up to grip Kurt's hips, then slid one up and over his stomach until he felt a hardened nipple between his fingers.

Kurt hissed and tugged harder on Blaine's hair, pulling him away.

"Blaine," he gasped, "I want you—" Blaine licked up the underside of his shaft. "—oh god, inside of me. Please, babe."

Unbelievably turned on at the sound of those words coming out of Kurt's mouth, Blaine happily obliged, climbing over Kurt as they both shuffled toward the head of the bed, and Kurt reached for the lube.

The more he thought about it, the more Blaine began to wonder if Kurt really did have any desire to top. He seemed happy, and he had never shown any indication that Blaine could recall that he wanted to reverse roles.

Maybe he really doesn't want to do it, Blaine thought. It was a bucket list, after all. Sometimes people put thing on those kinds of list that make them uncomfortable or scared. Things that they think they should experience before they die, like bungee jumping or swimming with sharks, but that actually scare the shit out of them and they will probably put off until right before the bucket has actually been kicked, if they even do them at all.

But god, he hoped Kurt wanted this.

I guess I won't know unless I ask.

But how to ask, Blaine could not for the life of him figure out. He was pretty sure that item on the bucket list was not meant for his eyes, and he didn't want Kurt to be mad or embarrassed, or feel like he had been snooping. Blaine wanted to be delicate, a gentleman, about this, so he decided to take some time to think through the best way to broach the subject.

Unfortunately, the longer he waited, the harder it was for him to think about anything other than having Kurt inside him. This was becoming inconvenient at times, like when his mind drifted off during history class.

He squirmed in his seat, remembering that one blissful moment when Kurt had slipped just the tip of his finger inside him. It had felt amazing. Of course Blaine had had fingers in his ass before, but they had been his own, and there was a huge difference between his own fingers and someone else's. He tried to imagine what it would feel like if Kurt pressed his finger in just a little further, twisting it and bending it slightly as Blaine got used to the slight stretch. If it was lubed up (which, since this was in Blaine's imagination, it suddenly was), Kurt's finger would slide smoothly in and out until Blaine was wriggling around it, asking for another. With two of Kurt's elegant fingers inside him, Blaine would squeeze his eyes closed at the slight burn, but the stretch and fullness would totally be worth it. Kurt would push in until the tips of his fingers pressed against Blaine's prostate, and Blaine would moan wantonly at the stimulation.

"…derson? Mr. Anderson?" Blaine's eyes popped open when he finally registered his teacher calling his name. "Are you okay?" Blaine blinked, his face flushed at the images that had just been flashing through his mind and suddenly terrified that they were somehow projected across his forehead for the entire class to see.

"Um, yeah, yes sir." His history teacher was staring at him quizzically.

"Do you need to see the nurse? You were kind of groaning for a second there. Actually, you look like you might have a bit of a fever. Are you sure you're okay?"

Blaine lowered his head, running his hands over his face. Maybe he should say yes, just to get out of this embarrassing situation. But then he shifted in his seat and was suddenly aware of his hard-on. He groaned again. He was not going to try to shuffle awkwardly out of class and down the hall while trying to hide his sudden and very prominent boner. Looking around, he was relieved to see that no one seemed to have noticed it yet, and he was grateful that for once he had warn slightly baggy pants to school.

"Uh, no thanks. I'm fine. Just a little hard—um, headache…I'm starting to feel better already," he mumbled, adjusting the bottom of his sweater over his lap as nonchalantly as possible.

As the teacher went back to droning on about the European Union, Blaine raised his eyes back to the front of the room. Maybe if he actually paid attention for a while, his problem would go away out of sheer boredom.