I've been suffering from some extra-strength writer's block lately. I seriously cheered when I managed to finish this chapter. But, as usual, I still don't know how this fic is going to end or how long it's actually going to be. Suggestions are always welcome, Humble Readers.

So yeah. Reviews would be nice. If you feel like it.

And I don't own Glee. Obviously.


Nobody Says No To Kurt Hummel Part Seven

"Oh yeah, Kurt... you're so fucking hot, baby..."

Considering that I had a shirtless Noah Puckerman on top of me, grinding and moaning and kissing my neck, I had never been less in the mood. My entire evening had been ruined by stupid Blaine and his big, self-righteous rant at me in the choir room. All through the auditions in the auditorium I barely had the will to insult any of the no-hopers butchering their songs, even though ordinarily I'd have made someone cry after a few minutes. Instead I just left it up to Rachel, as I tried to push all of Blaine's angry words out of my head.

And now here I was, on my bed with Puck. Not even making out with him could take my mind off things. I still couldn't stop thinking about what Blaine had said. I'm sorry for falling for you... I hope he treats you the way that you want to be treated... and not the way that I treated you... ugh, that stupid new kid was ruining my life, not to mention my ability to enjoy this make out session. I pushed Puck away.

"Hey, what's wrong, baby," he said. "We're just getting started."

I sat up against the headboard and looked at him. He was a little sweaty and breathless, I could see the hard on in his pants, and his horribly overgrown mohawk was plastered to his head.

"Noah," I said seriously. "What's your favourite thing about me?"

"You're ass," he said immediately. "No doubt about it. That ass is magic, especially in your Cheerios track pants."

He tried to kiss me, but I pushed him away again. After a pause, I asked "What's my favourite musical?"

Puck scoffed and shrugged. "I dunno, but that's kinda off topic, don't you think?"

"Who's my favourite designer?" I asked.

He looked at me like I was insane. "Kurt, what's wrong with you? I thought you wanted to hook up?"

I sighed. "Yeah... so did I."

"Babe, you've been quiet all night," he said cautiously. "Usually you're totally into it."

"I'm just... I'm not really in the mood," I said quietly.

He laughed, like it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. I really didn't appreciate being laughed at.

"It's not funny, Noah," I said, glaring at him.

"It's kinda funny," he chuckled. "You're always in the mood, baby. And you were the one that asked me over, so I figured you wanted to fuck."

"I am at perfect liberty to change my mind, Noah," I said, my anger from earlier rising up inside me. "And frankly I've never been less turned on by you. I think you should leave."

He was still laughing. "Come on, baby! Quit being so weird!"

I shoved him away completely and sat on the edge of the bed. I felt him move behind me, his hands rubbing my shoulders, and he pressed his lips against the back of my neck.

"Kurt," he said gently. "Baby, I get that you're upset about... something. But let's not let it screw up our night. So I don't know what your favourite musical is or whatever? Big deal. I still know how to make you come real hard..."

"Go away, Puckerman," I said without looking at him. "My father will be home soon and if he finds you in my bedroom he'll most likely castrate you. And I don't think I have the energy to stop him."

Puck took his hands off me, and I heard him get off the bed with a huff. I didn't turn to watch, but I knew that he was putting his shirt back on and he slammed the door of my basement bedroom and my front door as he left. I wasn't sorry that he was gone. I just put some music on and lay down on my bed, thinking. This was probably the first time that I'd past up the opportunity to have some casual, meaningless sex. Not that I'd ever had sex that wasn't meaningless in one way or another. I'd never even really had a boyfriend, just various conquests. And before Blaine came along I didn't care at all. It was better that way. I didn't need feelings. Hell, I didn't even need eye contact.

But now I couldn't stop thinking about what I might have been missing. And I definitely couldn't stop thinking about everything Blaine had said.

School the next day was awful. Blaine was blanking me in much the same why that I had done the day before. He was ignoring me in a pointed, painful kind of way that I would have found impressive if I hadn't been on the receiving end. I didn't actually catch him looking at me during Glee Club, but more than once I could feel my skin prickling, as if his silent glares were actually burning me. He'd gone from fawning over me and blushing every time our eyes met, to pretty much hating my guts in a heroically short amount of time. I shouldn't have cared, but I really did.

After school Rachel took me for coffee at the Lima Bean as a way of lifting my spirits somewhat. She may have been absurdly self-absorbed, but even she could tell that something was bother in me.

"Nothing a grande non-fat mocha won't fix," she said brightly.

"Only if you're buying," I muttered.

The place was pretty crowded, and once we got our coffee we scanned the room for a free table. And that's when my heart sank. There was Blaine, as dorkily dressed yet inexplicably fuckable as ever, drinking his coffee... and talking to some guy. This guy – who I disliked on sight – was tall and slim and, I suppose, not completely unattractive, wearing a Dalton Academy uniform. He had a flirty smirk on his meerkat-ish face that made me homicidal. I immediately wanted to know who he was, mainly because it was easier to despise someone when I had a little back story to justify it.

"Hey, there's Blaine," Rachel said happily. She still had a misguided crush on him. "Maybe we can go sit with him? I'm sure he's friend won't mind."

"I'd rather not," I said stiffly. "Blaine and I aren't really on speaking terms right now."

"Why?" she asked. "What happened? I heard from Brittany that you guys went on a date."

"Yeah, well it didn't work out," I said, not taking my eyes of Blaine and that guy.

"You should go and talk to him," said Rachel. "If not for your own sake, then for the Glee Club's. You know how difficult it is for us to perform to the highest standard when people are fighting. Go and try to work it out."

I gave her a withering look. Even when she was trying to be helpful it was always to benefit her somehow.

"No, thank you," I said. "I think I'd rather, mmm, I don't know... break all my fingers with a hammer."

"Oh, go on, Kurt," she insisted. "I'm sure you guys can work this out and put whatever happened behind you. I'll even leave you to it. I've got to get home anyway. I need to start storyboarding the choreography for our next number."

She gave me a little shove in Blaine's direction before I could argue.

"Go talk to him!" she said, before rushing out of the coffee shop with a swish of her ugly plaid skirt.

With a heavy sigh, I made my way as slowly as I possibly could towards Blaine and his Dalton friend. They were laughing together, and the smirky guy rested his hand on Blaine's arm. I wanted to hurl.

"Hey, Blaine," I said with a friendly smile I usually reserved for teachers I was trying to get on the good side of.

He looked up and frowned at me. "Hey."

My stomach lurched at the look on his face, but I refused to let him see how much he was getting to me.

"Is it okay if I join you guys?" I asked.

He looked like he was struggling to hold back a flurry of swear words and insults that he probably would have said out loud if we weren't in public. Eventually he let out a stiff "Sure."

As I took a seat and put my coffee on the table, the guy from Dalton who I wanted to hit said "Blaine, sweetie, aren't you going to introduce us?"

Sweetie? Oh God...

"Oh, right," Blaine said uncomfortably. "This is Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is..."

"I'm Sebastian Smythe," he said, offering me his hand which I shook rather reluctantly. "I'm Blaine's boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" I said incredulously.

"Ex-boyfriend," Blaine said, rolling his eyes.

Sebastian just chuckled, giving Blaine a playful little nudge. "Details, details..."

I had never wanted to punch someone so much in my entire life.

"So Kurt," Sebastian said, sounding so self-satisfied it was unreal. "Blainers here has told me so much about you. It's not every day I get to meet a male head cheerleader."

"Yes, well," I said, fixing the friendly smile on my face. "There's nothing wrong with the unexpected."

Blaine's face had gone red – not his usual bashful rosiness, but a blotchy flush.

"I need some more coffee," he mumbled, before leaving the table without another word.

Sebastian's smirk became a little less self-satisfied and a little more devious as he gave me a quick once over. I finally got rid of my friendly smile and glared at him.

"You know, my Blainers told me the two of you went on a date," he said smoothly. "I'm pretty sure that won't be happening again, since he seemed so terribly... disappointed. You should have known better than to try and pressure Blaine into backseat sex."

"He told you that?" he said, narrowing my eyes.

"Not in so many words," Sebastian said with a shrug. "He's always been adorably bashful about 'being intimate', as he calls it. I mean, I don't blame you for wanting to fuck him. But I honestly don't blame him for turning you down. The way he went on about you I thought you'd be much hotter..."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "You're one to talk. I assumed, since Blaine immediately had a crush on me when he transferred to McKinley High, that he had decent taste in guys. But obviously not if he stooped low enough to go out with you."

He laughed disdainfully, and I struggled to resist the urge to throw my piping hot coffee in his face.

"You are a feisty little cheerleader, aren't you?" he said patronisingly. "What are you going to do, hit me with your pompoms?"

"Oh, bite me, Smythe," I sneered. "I seriously have no idea what Blaine even saw in you."

"You have eyes, don't you?" he said smugly.

"Yes, and all I'm seeing is a skinny dick with a smirky meerkat face, spouting arrogant bullshit," I said, giving him the dirtiest look I could muster. "It's not at all surprising that you're Blaine's ex. Everybody makes mistakes."

"The only reason Blaine and I broke up is because he had to transfer to your shitty little school," he said conceitedly. "He's wasted at McCrappy High. But I'll have him back in no time, especially since you've screwed him over so wonderfully. Hopefully you've destroyed his self-esteem just enough for me to finally get him in the sack. Thank you in advance, Gay Face."

I couldn't believe this guy. I was used to being around mean people, like Santana or Coach Sylvester, people who were bitchy in a way that I could appreciate. But this guy... ugh, I just hated him. I hated him so much that I was actually speechless.

"You have no idea how tedious it was back in the day," Sebastian continued causally. "There I was dating by far the hottest guy in Dalton – well, second hottest after me – but no matter how much I buttered him up, he just wouldn't let me pop his cherry. Oh, we'd make out and so on, but he was just so old fashioned. He was constantly spewing all this garbage about wanting it to be meaningful and blah, blah, blah. And I humoured him in the hopes that he'd give it up eventually. That's where you went wrong, Kurt. You can't come on too strong with Blainers or it'll scare him away. Of course, I did have to do something about all that frustration, but that's why they invented fake IDs and late night hook-ups in gay bars, right? But now, thanks to you and your slutty, gay-faced cheerleader ways, I may finally get a chance to tap that. I owe you one."

Blaine came back before I could even begin to think of a response to all of that. Just as he sat down with his fresh medium drip, I pushed my own untouched coffee away and stood up.

"I have to go," I said quickly. "I'll see you tomorrow, Blaine."

"Lovely meeting you, Kurt," Sebastian said with a wide, boastful grin. "We have to do this again some time."

I got the hell out of there before I could pick up my chair and hit him with it. Not only had I made Blaine hate me, but I'd potentially pushed him right back into the arms of that absolutely bastard. And, worst of all, I had no idea how to fix it.


Hope you enjoyed, Humble Readers.

xxx