A/N: This is your only smut warning. Turn back now if you're not interested.

Everything was unbelievably awful. It was the end of the second week at Dalton and Blaine was probably trying to kill him. The older boy took every opportunity he got to put Kurt in a never ending state of sexual frustration, which was pretty ridiculous, considering the fact that Kurt had barely been kissed before coming to Dalton.

Reform school? Yeah, the reformation of my sex life is going great, thanks for asking.

But Kurt missed his friends. He missed his family. He missed his old teachers and his own bed and… He just needed to get out. He would do anything, anything at all, to escape for just a few hours.

Unfortunately, he had dozed off after his alarm went off and Flint had left him to his own devices, making him late for classes. This, combined with his "unwillingness to participate" in group had caused him to be denied a weekend pass.

But Jeff wasn't denied.

Kurt walked in to Jeff and Nick's room early on Saturday morning. Jeff jumped back into bed after opening the door for the boy, smiling.

"What's up?"

Kurt shifted awkwardly. "I…I feel bad asking this but I just…I'm dying here."

"What kind of car do you want?"

"Any. And don't be ridiculously stupid, okay?"

"I'll have a plan drawn up by the end of the day so you can escape for the afternoon tomorrow. No one will notice."

"Jeff…you're a life saver."

"I know it's only been two weeks, but I think everybody's going a little crazy. I'm happy to do what I can. This school's a joke anyway. I'm running errands for someone else, too."

"I can't possibly thank you enough."

"Anytime."

-0-

Kurt wanted to cry. He stared at the rain pouring down, slamming against the windows. The clouds were thick and the sky was dark. It was already 7 because he couldn't escape until after dinner—Ms. Warner was breathing down his neck about homework and classes and checking to make sure everything was going alright. The road ahead that he could see was empty but dark and terrifying. He wasn't going to risk walking anywhere. He didn't really know where he was going. At first he had planned to just drive to Lima, call Mercedes and spend twenty minutes with her, which was better than nothing, before having to leave again but now… Now he was stuck.

He got out of the car, racing to the front hood. Spitting the rain away from his face, he popped it open, examining, but in the rain and the gloom, he couldn't see well enough.

"Shit," he hissed, closing the hood and leaning against it, his head in his hands. "Shit, shit, shit." Wiping away a stray tear, he got back in the car and attempted to start it again. "Come on, come on," he whispered. "Start, you stupid thing! Come on! Ugh!" Kurt slumped back, hands lying limply by his sides, his eyes closed and emotion bubbling up through his throat. He flailed angrily, just kicking and hitting until he started crying. This couldn't get any worse. It was raining cats and dogs, he'd convinced a boy to steal a car for him so that he could drive to Lima to see his dad and his friends and now that car was broken down—oh, everything was going wrong!

There was a tap on the window.

Yes, apparently it could get worse.

Blaine grinned at him, hair wet and dripping onto his shoulders. Kurt opened the door.

"Hey, there. You need a ride?"

"H-how'd you find me?"

"Jeff blabbed."

"I'll kill him." Kurt got out of the car, looking at it sadly. "This sucks."

Blaine closed the car door. "A ride? Or I could leave you here, a half hour drive away from campus, probably going to get caught or die of pneumonia or—"

Kurt slapped a hand over his mouth. "Blaine. Don't. Not right now. Please."

Blaine's eyes softened for barely a second before they were hard and disguised again. He shoved Kurt's hand away. "Come on. I'm right behind you."

Kurt followed him, arms wrapped around himself as the rain continued pouring. Blaine led him around the car to—

"You drive a motorcycle?"

"What else, love? I had Jeff grab it for me when he got a pass over the weekend to visit his folks. Don't know how he snuck it into the garage, but then again, I don't really want to know." He held out a helmet. "Come on. It's really your only option. And we need to get there quickly because the rain is going to ruin my jacket."

Kurt took the helmet, muttering under his breath about personal boundaries, leather jackets, muscles, and water.

Once they were on the bike, Blaine grabbed Kurt's arms, wrapping them around his torso. "For your own safety, of course."

"Right. Of course."

Kurt was content to rest his forehead against Blaine's back and close his eyes as the wind and rain whipped past them. The roar of the engine was thrilling as well as terrifying and Kurt tightened his grip. He could feel it when Blaine chuckled.

That was a really nice feeling though. It did really nice things to him.

And then Blaine took one hand off the handlebars and grabbed his thigh, squeezing lightly.

Shit.

And then he started remembering bits and pieces of the party that he had dug up over the week and the kissing and the moment in the bathroom and—shit. No. Now was not the appropriate time to get an erection. Not sitting right behind the boy you were fantasizing about. Not when that boy could eat you alive. Or…swallow you whole?

Bad thoughts, bad thoughts, bad thoughts!

He tried to inch away from Blaine, scooting backwards, but there really wasn't enough room and he was more worried about falling off the bike, frankly.

What felt like an hour later but what must have been twenty minutes because they reached the overpass he had gone under when he was barely leaving Dalton, Kurt looked up.

"Why are you pulling over?" he asked.

Blaine ripped off his helmet and was suddenly straddling his bike the opposite way, facing Kurt with something that almost looked like murder in his eyes. But then Kurt's helmet was gone too and Blaine's hands were on him, pulling him against him, kissing him heatedly, desperately. He was pulling Kurt's legs over his so that the younger boy was straddling him on the bike.

"Blaine—what—"

"Kurt, just shut up and enjoy it, okay?" Blaine said as his lips grazed Kurt's jaw. "Show me how…loose you are, remember?"

At first anger swelled inside of him, but then everything was drowned out because Blaine's lips had found that spot under his ear and he was just clutching, trying to get closer. He had been waiting for this.

The thunder drowned out the sound of his first cry as Blaine whispered in his ear, "I've thought about this so much. And I know you want it just as bad as I do. You're the one who kissed me first. You can't go back on things that you've started, Kurt."

"So touch me. Touch me."

"Hm…" He licked down Kurt's neck to his collarbone, tasting the mixture of salty skin and rain water. "Where should I touch you?"

"Don't make me say it," Kurt gasped, holding onto his shoulders.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about—oh." Blaine grinned as Kurt's hands grabbed his and placed his palms over the bulge in front of his jeans. "That's what you mean."

"Blaine—please, just—"

"You didn't really seem to be the begging type, Kurt," he whispered, his lips still ghosting over his neck as his fingers handled the button and zipper of Kurt's jeans. "But go ahead, if you like. Beg. Where do you want me to touch you?" The scruff on his jaw that hadn't been there that morning at breakfast was scratching over his collarbone as Blaine kissed his neck. Oh, God—

"Anywhere. Everywhere." He let out a high-pitched whine. Distantly, he recognized the fact that the coldness of the air was being masked by the warmth of Blaine's body and hands and mouth but where ever his brain got that information from, it only forced his body to want more and more of it, more and more of Blaine.

"I bet you've never done this before, have you?"

"Had sex on a motorcycle? Nope, you caught me—oh!"

Blaine grinned as he got his hand under Kurt's briefs and wrapped around the pure evidence that Kurt wanted this even more than he was willing to admit. "Something wrong?"

Kurt moaned, jerking his hips up. "N-no. Nothing…nothing at all."

"For the record," Blaine said huskily, beginning to move his hand slowly, "I meant you've never had sex…at all."

Kurt dug his nails into Blaine's jacket, ignoring the fact that he was probably leaving marks. The bastard deserved it. "Oh, God, Blaine." He swallowed tightly, panting. "Would that…would that be a problem?"

"Hm?"

"If I was a virgin."

Blaine hummed slightly, his wrist snapping slightly faster for a few strokes before returning to the pace he had set. He could hear Kurt's moans—the boy really must be a great singer because he moaned like a whore in bed…or…on motorcycle—in the back of his mind before sucking on his earlobe.

"Blaine!" He thumped Blaine on the back. Not nearly hard enough to hurt but just enough to get his attention.

"Trust me, love." He nipped lightly. Kurt gasped. "It wouldn't be a problem. In fact, I've found that virgins are often more willing to learn, more desperate to…please."

Kurt bit his lip hard. "Please, Blaine. Please." He thrust desperately into the fist that Blaine had stopped moving but had left around him. "Don't stop."

"Are you close?"

Kurt's mouth fell open as his head fell back, hips moving desperately, unintelligible sounds escaping his mouth.

"That's a yes." Blaine smirked. His left hand snuck up Kurt's jacket and shirt, brushing over a nipple as his right sped up.

Everything was focused for Kurt. There was just one thing, one bright little spot on the horizon that he was heading towards. Everything he could think and feel right now was centered on reaching that spot. So he wasn't totally sure why, when Blaine's hands began working even harder and he got even closer, his own hands reached down to Blaine's lap, distracting himself from that purpose.

But when Blaine groaned, bucked, and began doing something really damn incredible with his right hand, he knew he was the luckiest boy alive and then he was coming, Blaine stroking him through it, whispering things—things he couldn't hear but couldn't care less about—into his ear.

When he came back to himself, he groaned with frustration. "Shit. Oh, well, this jacket was old anyway."

Blaine chuckled as he watched Kurt peel off the jacket, not expecting it when Kurt grabbed his hand tenderly, wiping it clean. Blaine cocked his head, watching him. "You're weird. You know that, right?"

"Says the person who just initiated a hand job in the rain, under a freeway overpass, on top of a motorcycle, and didn't get anything out of it."

"Trust me." His left hand snuck around and gave the handful of Kurt's ass that he could grab a squeeze. "You'll repay me. I already know you're a good kisser…I wonder what else you could do with that mouth of yours."

A/N: Hope you're enjoying the story! Please review:)

Love,

E. M. Zeray

Mythoughtshavenooffswitch [dot] tumblr [dot] com