Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or its characters. This is for fun, not profit.

Where it Starts it Ends (and Begins Again)
Chapter Two

At seven fifteen in the morning, as Kurt was brushing his teeth after his shower, Blaine walked into the bathroom looking adorably disheveled. His eyes were squinted and his hair stuck up at odd angles. Kurt forced himself not to smile and looked back at the mirror.

"Did you already shower?" Blaine croaked.

"Yes," he said, after having rinsed his mouth out. "Do you always get up this late? Breakfast is at —" He broke off midsentence when Blaine abruptly pulled his shirt up, exposing a lightly toned chest, and one which was covered with just the right amount of hair. Kurt's eyes slid down to the waistline of Blaine's pants, noting the highly defined V and enticing happy trail he found there.

He turned back around quickly when Blaine had pulled the shirt over his head. As he gathered up his things and left the bathroom he heard Blaine chuckle.

"Leaving already?"

Forgetting himself, Kurt turned to glare at him, only to find that Blaine was now only in his boxers, his thumbs hooked at the waistband. Blaine's mouth turned up into a teasing smile and he pulled them down a few inches; just enough to expose his pubic hair. Kurt blushed furiously and spun on the spot.

"You're a pervert!" he called out, even as butterflies whirred around in his stomach and he broke out into a grin.

"Can't help myself!" Blaine called back. Kurt laughed quietly and deposited his towel and pajamas into a hamper sporting Dalton's emblem.

Ten minutes later, as he swung his messenger bag over his shoulder and prepared to leave the room, Blaine stepped out of the bathroom with his hair dripping wet and his towel around his waist. Kurt sighed loudly and looked away.

"Have you always been an exhibitionist?" Kurt drawled. He could practically hear Blaine smile. He flinched when a pair of large, warm hands gripped his waist and pulled him back into a hard chest.

"Does it bother you?"

Blaine's breath against his ear made him shiver, and as much as he wished Blaine hadn't felt it, he knew that was next to impossible. He seemed like the sort of person who'd be looking for reactions.

Kurt wiggled out of Blaine's grip and turned to face him, cheeks flaming, mouth set in a frown. Blaine's smirk didn't falter.

"Considering I've known you for less than a day," said Kurt, fighting not to lower his gaze to Blaine's chest, "yes, it bothers me."

Blaine nodded and held up his hands in a gesture of placation that Kurt knew was at least half sarcastic.

"I'll wait at least a month before trying again. Or is that too soon?"

At Kurt's glare he laughed and sauntered over to his dresser, where he pulled out his uniform and laid it on the bed.

Just as Kurt put his hand on the doorknob Blaine said, "If you wanna wait another minute I'll walk you there."

After a quick pause he assented. Blaine dropped his hand to his towel and Kurt cleared his throat loudly.

"What?"

Instead of answering Kurt raised a brow and nodded toward the bathroom. Blaine grinned mischievously but did not argue. He even closed the door behind himself.

Kurt sighed and went to sit down at his desk chair to wait, the memory of Blaine's teasing smirk and glorious body plaguing his mind. Blaine was making him nervous, as he was incredibly inexperienced for a seventeen-year-old, his only kiss having been from a bully back in high school, and that had not been consensual.

But Kurt was also astounded. A boy as attractive as Blaine had never taken any interest in him before. For fuck's sake, he'd never met another attractive and openly gay boy! This was unchartered territory.

But as Blaine came out of the bathroom — hair still damp and looking somehow delicious even in his uniform — and placed a gentle hand on the small of Kurt's back to lead him out of the door, Kurt thought he probably wouldn't mind doing a bit of exploring.

Class was strange. In fact, it wasn't so much class as it was studying. There were several classrooms — around fifteen students per room, give or take a few — to accommodate all the boys from both dorm buildings, and in each classroom there was one teacher. The teacher, however, was only there to help if anyone had a question.

There were two floors of classrooms, and on each floor there was an office filled to bursting with things called "chapters." Every subject — Calculus, US History, British Literature, etc. — had its own number of chapters that a student had to complete in order to pass the class. The chapters were photocopied from a textbook, and each came with a sheet of paper with homework corresponding to the reading. At the end of each chapter, there would be a test, and in order to move on one needed to score an eighty percent or higher.

An old lady sat in each office and the students had to speak to them in order to receive the chapters. One look told Kurt that the woman on his floor was less than friendly.

Rebecca put Kurt in a classroom on the second floor with Blaine. She told him he'd have to wait until his old school sent over his transcripts in order for them to determine on which chapter he would begin for each subject.

So Kurt spent the first block of class — four hours, to be exact — sitting next to Blaine and trying not to laugh at his antics.

"What class are you working on?" he asked, reaching over to flip the cover so he could see. Brit. Lit. 1789 to Present, it read, and underneath that Chapter 25.

He looked up to find Blaine smirking at him. "If you were going to look anyway, why did you ask?"

Kurt slapped his arm and Blaine's smirk turned into a smile.

"You ever take Brit. Lit.?"

Kurt shook his head. "It's not a required class at my school."

"You're missing out," Blaine sang teasingly. "There's nothing like Romantic poetry."

Kurt scoffed. "I wouldn't've pegged you as the type to read Romantic poetry."

Blaine smirked and leaned much too close.

"You've known me for less than a day, remember?"

Goosebumps erupted on his neck where Blaine's breath washed over his skin and traveled outwards until they covered his whole body. Meanwhile, the boy sitting on Blaine's other side had gotten his attention and the two were leaning over a piece of paper together. Kurt glared at Blaine's back.

"Ew, are you kidding?" Blaine whispered. Kurt saw both boys look across the room at one of their exceptionally unattractive peers. The boy next to Blaine leaned in to whisper something else and suddenly the two of them were fairly howling with laughter. Blaine's eyes crinkled up at the sides with his laughter, and it was all Kurt could do to hold back his own smile.

"Blaine and David!" the teacher snapped, though Kurt was shocked to find a small grin tugging at her lips. The boys sobered up a bit and looked at her. David wiped a tear from his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Ross," said Blaine. Next to him, David had his hand over his mouth tightly. Blaine choked on laughter and forced himself to settle down again. "Our apologies."

Mrs. Ross rolled her eyes. "Of course, Blaine." She looked up at a clock on the wall. "Anyway, it's nearly twelve o'clock. Someone will be coming to get you for lunch soon."

As though on cue, a blond girl whom Kurt had not yet met walked into the classroom holding a clipboard.

"The Jamester!" David called out, raising his hand in greeting. Kurt saw the girl — probably in her mid-twenties — smile at David and nod.

"Good morning, David. Line up outside, c'mon, guys."

Blaine tugged Kurt out of his chair and led him out of the classroom. All the boys lined up against the wall in the corridor, along with the boys from the other three classes on the same floor, so it was soon very noisy.

"I'm Jamie," the girl said, coming up to Kurt and sticking out her hand. Kurt smiled and shook it.

"Kurt," he said.

"Jamie is the coolest mentor at Dalton," Blaine interrupted. Jamie scoffed, and Kurt was pleased to note that this woman, at least, did not appear affected by Blaine's charm.

"You hated me on Sunday."

"Yes, well, that's because you wouldn't let me keep my lights on past 10:30."

"Lights out is at 10:30!"

Blaine huffed. "You've let me keep them on before."

"I've done no such thing." Jamie walked away with a smirk in place and Blaine turned, grinning, to Kurt.

"She's done it a thousand times," he said casually. "She doesn't like most of the boys here, but she loves me, Wes, and David. She even sat up with us in the common room one night until eleven."

Kurt snorted. "Congratulations. Charming a rehab-slash-boarding school mentor is quite an accomplishment these days."

Blaine stuck his tongue out childishly and Kurt merely rolled his eyes. Jamie took roll call for the whole floor, and when she'd finished, they all began heading toward the stairs.

"Did someone feed Philippe today?" David whispered as Jamie and the boys ahead went through a door leading out of the stairwell. He and Blaine peered between the gap at the end of the stairs where the railing curved around.

"Excuse me?"

"Me and Wes found a caterpillar on a trail one time during Wilderness and we —"

"Wilderness?" Kurt interrupted.

Blaine waved a hand impatiently. "Every Friday they choose like six guys randomly to go on a hike, or walk a trail, or something, but anyway, one time me and Wes —"

Kurt didn't mean to block him out, but the thought of this so-called Wilderness was not appetizing in the least. Hiking? That was synonymous with dirt and mud and filth the last time he'd checked. And sweating. And walking through dirty, muddy forests while sweating.

He barely contained a shiver.

"— and we sprinkled some dirt right down there with some leaves and stuff and we put him inside, and now we check on him every day and bring him meals."

"And one day he'll be a butterfly," David added.

Kurt took a moment to process this, and finally decided on asking, "Why did you give him a French name?"

"Well, A, because it sounds dapper as hell," Blaine said, and then turned to David.

"And B, because it's funny because Blaine's half Filipino."

"Pun intended," Blaine said in a very commercial-esque voice, pointing at Kurt with a cheesy wink.

"Oh my God. You are utterly ridiculous," Kurt said as they entered the cafeteria and Blaine pressed a hand against his lower back, leading him toward the sinks. Kurt's whole body erupted in goose bumps and he strove to fight the blush that he knew was inevitable.

"Blaine!" Blaine's hand snapped back to his side and he spun on his heel, giving Jamie a winning smile. "Hands to yourself!"

"I was merely showing our newest resident where the sinks are located. Would you have him eating with dirty hands?"

"That's a mark," she said, and jotted something down on her clipboard. "Kurt, I'll let you off easy since it's your first day."

"Ugh, how many is that now?" Blaine moaned. Jamie smirked mischievously.

"Eleven."

"Jamie!"

"Well, keep your hands off the other boys and you wouldn't be in this mess!"

Blaine pouted, resembling a puppy to an astonishing degree. Jamie rolled her eyes and walked off.

"A mark?" Kurt questioned once she was gone.

Blaine sighed exaggeratedly. "Marks are punishments. One mark is worth ten minutes of studying during our free time. I know, it's atrocious," he said in response to Kurt's face. "I've got nearly two hours now!"

"Serves you right," Kurt teased. "Maybe you should learn to control your raging libido."

Blaine smirked, and, after looking quickly around them, leaned in so Kurt felt his breath on his ear.

"That doesn't seem like a very fair expectation when I'm supposed to be sharing a room with you, Kurt."

It was the way he said his name that caused Kurt to suck in a harsh breath and bite the inside of his lip. Blaine chuckled against his neck before moving away toward the food, acting as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Kurt, meanwhile, was left short of breath and with an uncomfortable problem in his pants.