When they left the airport after arriving back in Lima, Sue gave the cab driver instructions to lead them back to the dance studio so they could all go home in their respective cars. The drive was silent, much like everything had been since the competition. Sue had not spoken one syllable to Blaine, not even to insult his outfits.

This was serious.

Kurt's response was even worse. He looked on the edge of tears for the entire trip, staying silent the whole time and refusing to meet anyone's gaze. Blaine's heart broke for the poor boy who's dreams were shattered.

By Blaine. God he was a prat.

When they arrived at McKinley, Sue patted Kurt's shoulder in a gesture more friendly than Blaine knew she had in capacity, before climbing into her SUV and tearing away. Blaine lingered behind slowly, to see whether Kurt would talk to him.

No such luck.

He did however stalk straight into the studios without even so much as a glance at Blaine. However Blaine was stubbornly curious and followed by silently, watching Kurt carefully as he sauntered across the polished floors slowly, his alluring reflection doubled in the mirror lined walls, the setting sun bouncing off every surface it could find, highlighting the beauty of the already gorgeous studio – and it's favourite occupant.

Kurt made his way over to the black grande piano that Blaine had spent so many nights slaving over so incessantly. He slid onto the stool as if he had been there before, his fingers opening the case with a familiar strength. As his beautiful long fingers caressed the keys, it was obvious he had done this before.

"I hate the piano," Kurt said suddenly. Blaine almost jumped in fright, not expecting the eerie silence to be broken so quickly, so clearly, so sharply and surely. The admission of what Kurt had said confused Blaine as it so contradicted the loving embrace with which his fingers flowed across the instrument.

"Why is that?" Blaine asked carefully, scared to make Kurt angry (well, more angry than he assumedly already was), but longing to hear his musical voice more after going so many hours in deprivation of.

"Because it fucked up my life."

Blaine winced. The harsh words didn't match the pretty tone of Kurt's voice. He shouldn't bate his beautiful breath on such obscenities.

"It wasn't the piano that fucked up your life, Kurt," Blaine said slowly. "It-it's a lovely instrument. It was the piece."

"No," Kurt said harshly, slamming his fingers down on the keys with a force that this time, actually made Blaine jump. "You fucked up my life. Thanks to you all those long nights, all those years, all that training… washed down the drain because you couldn't play a piece of music."

"I'm sorry, Kurt," Blaine said, his eyes filling with hot tears of shame. Because he was completely and utterly ashamed of what he had done to this boy. This boy who was so strong, gone through so much, and came so close to having it all… only to have it snatched away. By him.

"I hate you," Kurt said coldly, his eyes no longer looking close to tears, but hard and even colder than his voice. Blaine flinched, knowing that he meant those words, and more than anything, that he deserved them.

But he didn't stop there.

"I hate the way that the first day and acted like you could do what you want," Kurt continued. "You ran in late, dressed like a fucking clown, and still smiled and laughed it off. I hate that you made everyone love you in just one lesson, and I've being trying for years. I hate you because you're in control of your own life. You can go wherever you like, you can do whatever you want, see whoever you want to see. I hate that you can be you and instead of getting taunted every day of your life, people actually like you for it."

Kurt closed his eyes now, blocking Blaine off from the pain that was rising to the surface of his diamond stare.

"I hate you because you didn't care that they all liked you. You wanted me to like you to. That out of everybody I knew, you are the only one who actually cares. The one who wanted me to eat, to stop smoking, to take it easy. Because I've been longing for people to ask me to take care of myself for years and you were the first person to do it."

Blaine's breath caught at the admission. Kurt heard his little choke and his eyes whipped open. Blaine was shocked at the amount of anger in them, despite the almost melancholy tone in which he spoke. Kurt was hurt, yes. But right now, he was angry. He hated Blaine, and he wasn't going to let Blaine get off this time…

Before Blaine could even process what was happening, Kurt had crossed the space between them and seized Blaine's wrists, spinning them around and pushing him so hard up against the piano that he was sure it would bruise his back tomorrow.

"But more than anything I hate you because you actually make me want to do those things. You make me want to be like a normal person. You make me want to care about you."

Kurt leant closer, so close that Blaine could hear every short little intake of breath he uttered. So close that he could imagine the light thump of his heart beat, perhaps accelerating at the adrenaline coursing through him. He could imagine the little spasms of sound, the muscle tremors as Kurt inched slightly closer, his heel lifting off the ground just a fraction, his elbows twitching with the weight of supporting Blaine.

"Does it feel good, Kurt?" Blaine asked, his voice so low he wondered if it was really his own. "Does it feel good to admit the truth, finally. The truths that you've kept bottled up for so long. All that pent up emotion… finally free?"

"You have no idea," Kurt said slowly, through gritted teeth.

Blaine let out a breathy chuckle, his warm breath ghosting across Kurt's bare collarbone that drifted dangerously close to kissing distance. Blaine felt a shiver run through Kurt and he met his searing gaze.

"Well then," Blaine returned darkly. "Why don't I tell you how I feel?"

He didn't wait for an invitation before moving suddenly, turning them around so he now hovered over Kurt, who was backed up against the instrument he knew so well, one knee pressed up against the side of Kurt's toned, yet sadly covered, thigh, his other leg supporting his weight as he shifted his body against Kurt's.

He leaned closer, his lips hovering by Kurt's ears, attentive for Blaine's next words. "I hate you, Kurt Hummel. I hate the way you're mean. You're so mean. You're amazingly talented, but you know it. You rub it in other people's faces. You know that I'm staring at you all lesson. The way you move your hips in perfect time to my music." Blaine let out another throaty chuckle. Not because he found it amusing, but simply because he rather enjoyed the tingling sensation that Kurt's shivers sent coursing through their combined body heat.

"It's infuriating."

Blaine punctuated his statement by flicking out his (admittedly agile) tongue and tapping it against Kurt's ear. Kurt elicited a short gasp that sent Blaine's blood ablaze, the fiery want inside him building.

"You're infuriating," Kurt choked as Blaine pressed his body against Kurt's, so that their hips were flush together and Kurt could feel just how good it felt for Blaine to get his all off his chest.

"Say that again?" Blaine whispered, his voice hot ans gravelly against Kurt's blazing skin.

Rather than attempting speech, Kurt closed the gap between them, sealing their lips together in a kiss full of pent up emotion, tension and actual anger.

Kurt's lips were nothing like he imagined. And yes, he had spent many nights lying awake, staring at the celing, running a warm hand down his chest (and further), imagining sweet boy kisses peppering down his heated skin, the press of his lips soft and lighter than air.

No. His kisses were deep and lush and wet and warm, his lips so plush that Blaine felt himself melting into his touch. He pushed himself harder against Kurt, wanting more, more of his hot, beautiful touch.

Trembling fingertips fumbled against buttons and their shirts were tossed on the floor, forgotten in the heat as lips pressed against skin, gasps echoing off the walls.

"I forgot how nice the acoustics were here," Blaine murmured as Kurt's moan reverberated off the mirrors.

Kurt scowled up at him. "Fuck you," he hissed, latching his teeth onto Blaine's collarbone, making him cry out in a twisted mix of pain and pleasure.

"S-so hot, Kurt," Blaine panted as Kurt sucked the skin, surely leaving a dark purple bruise behind. A lasting reminder that this was not another one of the many fantasies Blaine had let himself indulge in over the passed few months. But not even any of those could live up to this.

Blaine felt a sharp pain against his back as Kurt pushed him harder against the case, until he felt Kurt lifting him up, making him sit upright on top of the case. Holy fuck Kurt was strong. Taking full advantage of his position, Blaine instantly threaded his fingers through Kurt's hair, reveling in it's silkiness, and wrapping his legs tight around Kurt's middle. Pulling him closer and closer…

"Jesus, Blaine!" Kurt cried as Blaine tugged experimentally on his hair. Blaine couldn't help the smirk that crossed his lips, but Kurt quickly wiped it away, pulling him down, their lips crashing together in a kiss that was way all teeth and tongue and left Blaine moaning into his mouth with want.

Kurt lowered him against the piano so he was now straddling Blaine. His eyes locked onto Blaine's and Blaine just barely had time to register the stormy green that they had become before Kurt rolled his hips down against his, pushing all coherent thoughts out of his mind.

"Kurt!" Blaine gasped, his heart hammering wildly against his chest. He was already painfully hard and he could feel that Kurt was too. As Kurt ground down a second time, Blaine's hands flailed wildly for a moment before gripping his hips tightly, hard enough to leave angry bruises.

Blaine closed his eyes, throwing his head back with pleasure as Kurt began to rock steadily against him. Without his sight his other senses were heightened and he felt that he might come just from the delicious sounds that Kurt was emitting.

He could feel himself coming closer to the edge and when Kurt cried out his name, his eyes flew open to shoot a glance at the beautiful boy writhing above him. His cheeks were flushed, eyes watery and hair mussed, but it was his bruised lips, swelled with the passion that Blaine had had the honour of bestowing, that made him come so hard that he thought he might faint.

Kurt followed soon after, collapsing on top of him with a shuddering tremor. Blaine longed to pull his arms around him, pull him into a warm embrace and snuggle him tight for days, kissing his hair softly and murmuring the "I love you" that had been on the top of his tongue since that very first Friday night class.

"Kurt," Blaine murmured softly. It was a question. He didn't know what he was asking. Was he asking him to declare his feelings? To let him hold him? To let him love him?

Blaine didn't know if Kurt knew what he was asking either, but his answer was no less painful.

"I-I can't," he whispered, not even looking Blaine in the eye as he frantically slipped off the piano, clunking on the ivory keys in his haste. The sharp clang of all the wrong keys smashed together was enough to break the spell. Reality hit Blaine fast and hard, colder than the withering glances Kurt was so famous for.

Blaine wanted to cry, but he felt like someone had ripped out his tear ducts, along with his heart, entire chest and maybe just all of his fucking vital organs. His breath came out in shuddering gasps, and his whole body racked with the force.

It was over.

A/N: I'd just like to point out that this is my first smut attempt in a fic. Sorry if it was too tame or whatever... I wasn't really happy with it myself.