HELLO EVERYONE! I made a decision to add another Chapter before the end. It's all planned out BUT I really wanted to write these extra couple of Chapters so I split them in two. I hope that's alright with you guys : ) So, this Chapter is only half of the arc.

The Surname. The bain of my life. I began writing this story in early November before anyone even knew if Blaine was going to be GIVEN a surname... haha... so I made one up. As this is a continual story, I kept it the same and OBVIOUSLY it's used quite a lot. All I have to say is that I'm going to go back and change it to Anderson. So from the previous chapter, Blaine is Blaine Anderson. Every reference to his name will be changed in due course. I have had quite a few comments about this and it's something I've decided to do. I hope it doesn't take away from the continuity of the story.

I've also had a few people ask what Thomas looks like and WHO he can be likened to. Armie Hammer. There you go! There's a link in my profile of a picture which is almost EXACTLY as I imagine Thomas. I imagine Tom to be a bit MORE muscular because he's sporty and very athletic. I bloomin' ADORE Social Network and think Armie's wife is INSANELY lucky. He'd look good in Dalton uniform, right? Shame Tom's graduated : ( ha! So I hope that assists those who wanted an image : )

I REALLY hope you like this half : ) It was a lot of fun to write. I have to thank ALL of you for your frankly gorgeous comments. I mean, nearly 1,200 comments on this silly story of mine. To say I'm grateful is getting repetitive now but it's SO true. I'm still in shock that people are STILL with me! THANK YOU ALL.

Kurt giggled, ducking his head with a quick bite of his lip. Blaine's fingers tracked light patterns over his palm, tickling in the most distracting way. Kurt had tried to ignore it, tried to breathe deep and focus but nothing was going to work. Blaine was in one of those moods – mischievous – and nothing was going to snap him out of it. Kurt, if he was completely honest with himself, had no intention of trying too hard as the playful way he was being teased was more than ok.

"Blaine!" he hissed, half laughing in an exaggerated whisper.

Blaine flashed a look, as innocent as an angel, and batted his eyelids with a smirk. "What?"

"Keep your hands to yourself."

The response was inevitable, Kurt told himself. He wasn't about to protest again because it seemed that any form of resistance was only fuelling Blaine's sneakiness. Kurt shuddered, feeling a blast of warm air on his neck. With a snap of his head, he found Blaine tucked slightly behind him on the couch, leaning against the arm but bent forward in an attempt to look nonchalant. It wasn't working. He had the perfect position for his endeavours as Kurt had sat to his side but slightly in front. There was no time to move so Kurt sighed, rolling his eyes, and feigned disinterest, all the while his heart felt sure to beat its way out of his chest.

In a flash, Kurt felt fingers trail along the small of his back, slow and languid. That did it. His skin flooded hot and with eyes like billiard balls, he turned and grabbed Blaine's hands. The groan as Kurt pressed his fingernails in Blaine's skin was so audible that Kurt spat out a laugh, quickly muffled by his own hand.

"Kurt! Is there a problem?"

Kurt knew he was tomato red and flustered but he turned, solidifying his game face, to find Wes glaring in their general direction.

"Um, N... No. No problem. Please continue."

Wes swallowed, looking pointedly at Blaine. The entire room of Warblers were staring too, eyes lingering in a questioning manner, some smirking knowingly and some in mild shock. Kurt lowered his eyes feeling Blaine relax beside him with a huff.

"That was your fault," he hissed quietly without looking at Blaine.

"Can't help it," was the reply, drawled out in Blaine's lowest register. Kurt's mind flickered with the most intense array of images, most of them akin to melted butter, chocolate pudding, velvet and anything else scrumptious. He blinked rapidly, sure the entire room could read his mind.

"Wes is going to murder both of us. Do you want that? Do you want to be killed?"

Blaine laughed breathlessly, eyes transfixed on Wes in an attempt to pretend his was listening intently.

"You're just so distracting," Blaine groaned again, his voice laced with amusement, "and Wes is boring. It's a bad combination."

"Shhhh." Kurt nudged him sharply, focusing on Wes' face in an attempt to redeem himself. Not getting a solo was bad enough never mind having to fend off the wrath of 'official' Wes.

"As you will all be well aware," Wes pressed on, his knuckles white from clutching his gavel, "it's our mixer tomorrow night. The girls from St Luciana's will be present this time. Now, you all know that St Luciana's is another of our sister schools but they actually compete in the show choir competition so we need to be on our game and have Seasons of Love finalised before then."

Kurt gasped and grabbed Blaine's knee. He raised his hand instantly, stretching as high as physically possible in an attempt to show his impatience.

"Yes, Kurt?"

"Seasons of Love as in Rent?"

Wes shook his head. "No, as in Shiny Toy Guns. It's perfect for our eight part harmony. Don't worry, we can work on it this afternoon for those who are unfamiliar with it."

Kurt sighed, resting back in his chair. It was a momentary lapse of judgement as it was the very place where Blaine's arm was positioned, ready and waiting.

"You," he turned with a sharp whisper but a smile not far from his lips, "are impossible."

Blaine feigned attention and focused his hazel eyes on Wes as his heart skipped in his chest. He could get used to the fun of having a boyfriend, granted, but with Kurt there was something extra there making it doubly as exciting.

The afternoon rehearsals began awkwardly, some of the group entirely unaware of the song and the new style, however, after the third or fourth practice, the harmonies were melding together nicely and David was ready to step in with the choreography. Kurt choked back a laugh at the fact their usual side-step routine could be termed 'choreography'.

"Hey Kurt," Blaine called, rushing up behind him out of the door after rehearsals, "you are coming tomorrow aren't you?"

"The mixer?"

Blaine nodded. "If it's not your kind of thing then it's completely fine, we can do anything you want, I just thought I'd ask because I didn't really know if it was something you'd be interested in doing because-"

"Blaine," Kurt interjected, his hand reaching out tentatively to press slightly against his chest, "as much as I regret having to stop you mid adorable rant, you don't have to worry. It sounds fun. Of course I'll go and," he paused, looked down with a smile then back up under his eyelashes, Blaine sighed obviously, "you'll be there so..."

"You," Blaine cooed, stepping closer and wrapping his fingers around Kurt's tie, pulling him forward slightly, "are pretty special." Kurt felt his back arch and shoulder rise as Blaine's lips pressed somewhat feverishly against his own. A wide and strong hand snaked its way around his waist, holding him still. As soon as he could breathe again, he opened his eyes, taking in Blaine's dilated pupils, long dark eyelashes and half smile.

"Homework," Kurt stated. As he said the word he could feel the air thin eventually, dissolving the heightened tension that bloomed and fizzled between them now. It was a buzz kill and he knew it but Blaine didn't seem to find it annoying.

"You work too hard," Blaine smiled, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"If you thought more about work..." Kurt suggested with a pointed raise of his plucked eyebrows. He left the ending in mid air intentionally.

"You mean you'd rather I stick my head in my French textbook than bother you?"

"You might raise your grade to an A."

Blaine spluttered. "French and I do not get on. In fact, we hate each other. I am not made for foreign languages. Anyway, there'd be no kisses or snuggling up to me watching a movie or dates or meals or-"

"Keep your voice down," Kurt hissed, glancing around at the many boys wandering the halls, "it might be an all-boys school but that does not stop the gossiping."

"Let them gossip."

Kurt rolled his eyes, feeling his chest swell with pride secretly. His mind momentarily dragged his subconscious back to a couple of days after Burt had been released from hospital. Finn had given him the "if you sing with Sam he'll be beaten to a pulp on the pitch" spiel and, his dad, his loving and ever-trying dad, had told him that maybe he had to go it alone until he found someone as brave as he had grown to be. Kurt let his eyes linger on Blaine's for a few seconds longer, drinking in the sparkly openness and honesty.

"You're wonderful," Kurt said, without concern or restriction. He watched as Blaine blinked, frowned in thought and then drew his face into the biggest and most blazing smile Kurt was sure he'd ever seen. With a baby kiss to Blaine's curved lips, Kurt stepped back, ducking from the embrace with a slight flounce. He spoke as he walked backwards in the direction of the staircase. "I have homework. You have homework. We will make up for it tomorrow."

It was as if Kurt anchored Blaine in place. He watched Kurt turn and leave; Blaine's shoulders almost followed, his brain so ready to pursue Kurt up the staircase and hands aching to reach out to touch. It was something inherent now and as scary as it felt to recognise such a deep rooted connection with another, Blaine's heart sang loud nowadays- it was a sure sign that he was truly happy and as smitten as humanly possible – even if Kurt was a hopeless tease.

As he drained the dreamy expression off his face, Blaine jumped a little as his phone buzzed in his blazer pocket.

You free tonight? I'm home for a few days again. I miss my hobbit of a best friend. Nobody has curls at Brown, only comb-overs. They're boring. Can I come over? Tom x

Blaine pulled a face, startling a student as he passed. Thomas Masters clearly liked himself as a comedian.

I hate you but I guess I have space for your giant-like frame in my room for the evening. B xx PS: I'll shave them off if you insist on mocking them.

With a smirk, Blaine pocketed his phone and began his ascent to his room. In seconds it buzzed again.

You have a weird shaped skull. Don't shave them. No guy's going to want to want to sleep with you if you have a weird hairless skull. TomTom x

Blaine was resigned to the fact that his best friend was wonderfully eccentric, horrendously posh, freakishly tall and resembled a slightly stockier Armie Hammer, but even Thomas was capable of cranking up the crazy dial every now and then.

Upon entering his room, Blaine shrugged off his blazer and threw his book bag down on his duvet. He had a pile of work but it would have to wait. He'd spent the entire day reeling himself in desperately and somehow he'd managed it to a decent degree despite the fact that he simply wanted to let himself go. Having a boyfriend was amazing, wonderful, exciting and definitely worth every second but it was also difficult when he was around every single day as well. Kurt was distracting. It was his skin, the way he'd primly smooth his hair down, the natural scent he had which was a crazy mixture of flowers and boy, the size of his teeny waist, the pout that materialised every now and then, his sharp words, the way he'd blush even as he tried to resist any advances, the sparkle in his eyes when he tried to speak with them, the way his fingers wrapped themselves delicately around his knee as he sat...

"Blaine?"

He jumped, swinging around to find Thomas standing in his doorway.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Blaine whined, realising he was simply standing in the centre of his room staring into space.

"Trying to check you're alive more like," Thomas smirked, closing the door behind him and walking towards the bed, "where were you before?"

Blaine kept his eyes on Thomas as he made himself at home and fit immediately into the surroundings. He was so easy in life that it felt nice to learn from him.

"Kurtland," Blaine groaned, flopping down on the bed too.

As silence remained, Blaine turned to find Thomas smirking at him accusingly. "Your picture was exceptionally cute. He's adorable. Exceptional hair."

Blaine choked on his laugh. "Yea," he spat playfully, "until you feel his wrath." The warm fond smile that graced his lips caused the words spoken to take an entirely different meaning.

"Feisty," Thomas considered, "nice."

"I think I'm going crazy." The boom of Thomas' chuckle caused Blaine to jump a little. "What? I am!"

"Anderson, you've always been crazy. What is it?"

Blaine closed his eyes, unsure if talking about it was a good idea. It could turn rapidly into an embarrassing train wreck but, on the other hand, if anyone would understand it'd be Thomas. He took a deep breath and turned on the bed, crossing his legs in front of him, to face his best friend.

"I need you to promise that you won't laugh at me."

Thomas smiled and mirrored Blaine's actions- they both sat facing each other comfortably. Blaine watched as Thomas folded up the sleeves of his thin red checked cheesecloth shirt and leaned in, ever the good listener. "There shall be no laughing."

"I need advice." Blaine could feel himself blushing. It was impossible and mortifying but no amount of will power or mental control could halt it. Being a teenager sucked.

"On?"

"You're older than me. You're more experienced than me." Blaine could feel his skin actually burning as Thomas' forehead wrinkled dissipated into a knowing smile.

"Aha I think I'm on the right track."

"I need advice."

The lilting laugh that followed only sought to make Blaine flush a deeper red. "You need sex advice," Thomas corrected, raising his eyebrows and speaking with a tone akin to a lawyer giving advice. Thomas was sickeningly in control at times.

"Yes."

"And here was me believing I was coming over to watch a movie or something. Wow, Anderson I could cook stuff on your face," Thomas teased, reaching out to feel the heat radiating.

"Shut up! Seriously, ok this is a bad idea," Blaine snapped, as he tried to climb from the bed, "you are cruel."

Thomas couldn't breathe for laughing. "Come here you. Anderson. Sit." He reached for Blaine's arm, tugging him down. "Look, I'm teasing. You're only a little bit red and it's cute so stop freaking out."

"I'm kicking your ass out if you pull something like that again. I'm trying to be responsible here."

Thomas smiled, reaching to touch his finger to Blaine's nose lovingly. "Aw I know and you're being the thoughtful, prepared boyfriend. It's impossibly adorable. I'll try and help as best I can. I'll channel my inner gay yoda. Little one, tell troubles your me."

It was in that moment that Blaine wanted to hug the life out his friend. He might have been an ass but he was one with an enormous heart.

Blaine swallowed thickly, wondering there to begin. "I just need to talk to Kurt about it because I want us to be honest with each other. We said we'd talk about it but I wanted to wait until I was sure I could do it properly."

"Do you feel ready to?"

Blaine felt something tighten happily in his stomach. "Talk about it or do it?"

There was an inevitable laugh as Thomas' grin almost broke his face. His eyes crinkled as he chuckled. "Well both, Dummy."

"Yes and Yes," Blaine replied, sure of his words. He straightened his back and placed his hands in his lap, suddenly feeling much more confident. Thomas was making it easier.

"Talking to Kurt is a must. You need to know that he's ready too because although you're very close and are head over heels, that's sometimes not enough to get the ball rolling. He needs to know that you're not bothered either way as you're willing to respect his decisions and work to his time frame."

"I am, god I am," Blaine spluttered out, "I don't want to pressure him into anything if he doesn't want to. I don't even know if he does, I just know that there's a possibility he might want to hold off for a while."

Thomas nodded, understanding every word. "Well, if that's the case then you wait."

"Of course I would."

"So," Thomas began, his head tilting to take in Blaine's thoughtful expression, "we've established that you need to talk and that you just need to get it out there and in the open. Even if you don't do it yet, at least you've discussed it. It's the sign of an honest relationship."

"I was going to talk to him soon. We agreed to."

"Good. Now, what else did you want to talk about?"

Blaine wasn't sure he was going to be so good at this but he continued anyway, holding onto the inherent trust he and Thomas shared. "Mechanics."

"Jesus," Thomas began to chuckle infectiously, "you sound like a manual. 'Thomas I'd like you to advise me upon how one would go about administering pleasure to my significant other'"

"I hate you," Blaine groaned, burying his head in his hands, "I actually hate you."

"Hey, I'm joking," Thomas laughed still, his breathing stuttering through amusement, "look, you're so bloody proper it's just funny. It's not a bad thing, it's cute. Look at me moron."

Blaine frowned, drawing his pink cheeks from his hands and pointing his eyes towards Thomas. "I just need you to talk me through some stuff that's all because I know a lot, I mean I'm not a prude or anything I just need you to fill in some gaps."

"Who'd have thought we'd be sitting here doing this? I mean, I feel like I should pass you pamphlets and take you to the sexual health clinic."

"You're not my dad," Blaine said sharply, swatting Thomas's shoulder. He was bigger, much bigger, so it was a touch akin to a feather pressing against skin.

"Thank jesus for that. Anyway, I will tell you what you want to know. Shoot." The list of questions tumbled through Blaine's mind, frantic and tangled- too many questions, too many queries and myths to iron out. Thomas could almost see the cogs turning. He sighed fondly. "Look, where's your laptop?"

"Oh god, Thomas, no." Blaine grabbed for his friend's hands, eyes blown wide.

Thomas giggled again. "Christ Anderson, I'm not going to make you watch porn. Chill... out. Have you ever heard of GMFA?"

"What's that?"

"It's a charity. Gay Men's Health Charity. It's pretty informative."

Blaine dragged his laptop to the bed and watched as Thomas pulled it open and began clicking. The silence was easy but Blaine focused in on the reality of the situation, his stomach twitching in a desperate need to laugh. It was funny, it truly was, but it was also deeply touching. Without Thomas he had nobody to turn to about these matters. He wanted to talk to Kurt when he was fully informed, not a bumbling idiot, and Sylvie was an absolute no-go – no grandmother wanted to imagine her son in compromising positions, no matter the sexual preference- so he was left with the internet, books or health clinics. None of which were going to provide comfort and personal guidance so as Blaine watched Thomas' look of sheer concentration in the light of his screen, he knew he couldn't love him more.

"Thank you for doing this," Blaine said quietly, peering over his computer.

"Anytime Anderson," Thomas smiled, motioning for Blaine to sit by him, "so you wanna go through it step by step?"

They spent an hour clicking and talking, resulting in Blaine almost itching to take notes. Not only was Thomas open and honest, he was also willing to provide inside information and first hand accounts. For some unknown reason, Blaine didn't seem to suffer with embarrassment, possibly on account of Thomas' matter of fact approach.

"So how do you choose which one of you gets to...?"

"Bloody hell there's no coin flipping or anything, Anderson. You just choose. It's what you want not which one chooses heads or tails, although that can be a game for later."

He began to laugh, loud and immeasurably amused at his own joke. Blaine bit his lip, fighting back giggles too. "So can I ask you a question?"

Thomas smirked, biting his lip too. "Anderson, we've just discussed the ins and outs of oral sex, I think questions are very much allowed."

"Well this question is a little private."

"Again, I don't think there's a problem with asking personal questions. God, just ask me." He shook his head with exasperation but ultimate warmth.

"How was your first time?" Blaine eased the question out, his eyes filled with sincerity.

Thomas grew wistful for a second before taking a breath. "It was ok, I guess. Awkward and a little uncomfortable but he was a nice guy."

"Do you mind if I ask who?"

"No, course not. You remember James? Blonde curls? Blue eyes? He was a swimmer and went to St Andrews?"

"The one with the freckles?"

Thomas smiled affectionately. "The one with the freckles."

"I like him, he was nice. What happened to him?"

"Moved onto greener pastures. Bit of an ass really but it was good while it lasted."

"So you don't regret it?" Blaine's heart hurt. Thomas was a good guy, better than most, and he'd been played more times than a pinball machine.

"I do wish it'd been with someone that truly loved me back but we were really into each other and he was a nice guy, I guess. Shame he didn't think with his brain."

"Have you, erm," Blaine began, smiling as he ducked his head, "taken that step with Harry yet?"

It was as if Thomas' eyebrows were on strings they flew that high. "Look at you fishing for details," he laughed, "and no we haven't. I don't want to quite yet."

"Why not? Is he not the guy you thought he was?"

The way Thomas' skin tinged pink, Blaine knew the answer to the question before his friend spoke. "The opposite. He's a lot more than I realised and I don't want to rush things. He's nice, really nice, and I just want to enjoy being with him for a while. You know?"

"I want him to be good to you," Blaine admitted truthfully. He nudged Thomas' shoulder affectionately before closing his laptop with a snap.

"He makes me happy. He's so hot it hurts. He's a gentleman. He's out and proud. He comes with zero baggage and he gets how hard we have to work. Law takes your life and puts it in a vice but he gets it. He's thoughtful and fun. I really like him so we'll get around to all of that, I just want to make it mean something spectacular."

Blaine watched the sparkles dance in Thomas' eyes, the tiny secret smile he tried to hide, the way his eyelashes fluttered more and hands wrapped themselves together. He was completely smitten.

"I want to make you hot chocolate or something."

"What?" Thomas chuckled, glancing at Blaine as if he was insane, "who knew the payment for sexual advice was hot beverages?"

"Come on," Blaine urged, pulling Thomas' elbow as he clambered off the bed, "Isla ordered in a new batch of that expensive hot chocolate powder and I know where Wes' secret stash is."

"Quite the Miss Marple aren't you?" Thomas replied, his legs tangling as he tried to stand up.

Blaine huffed his irritation at Thomas' terrible jokes but stopped short of the door and turned.

"What now? I offer advice on reaching the optimum physical peak for rowing and upon an array of legal disputes too..."

"You're the best," Blaine said simply. He felt his heart swell happily as Thomas laughed a little with a slight frown. He was terrible at taking a compliment. In a second, a warm kiss was pressed into his hair and two strong hands angled him towards the door.

"You're not so bad yourself, Anderson. Now I want my payment."

After two mugs of 'payment', Thomas gave Blaine a tight hug and left for his car. As Blaine made his way back to his room, something stopped him and took him in the direction of Kurt's room.

As he rounded the corner, noticing the light from the gap to the side of the door, Blaine felt his heartbeat quicken and palms heat up. The things Kurt did without even realising. As he peeked his head into the room, he swallowed a laugh at the sight of Kurt positioned at his desk, earphones in and bopping dramatically to his music. His frame was outlined by the warm glow of his Tiffany lamp- he looked like an angel.

The faint muffle of Gaga was enough to tell him that Kurt wouldn't hear a thing if he was to sneak into the room. He did exactly that, stepping quietly, desperate to reach Kurt. As he neared the back of his chair, he could see the neat and coloured crib cards spread out in piles and the softness of Kurt's sweater. The heady smell of camomile hit his nose sending his senses into over-drive. Something about Kurt was so inherently comforting but, at the same time, felt other worldly, eccentric and achingly special. Blaine was sure he hadn't met anyone quite like him and wasn't likely to again.

Blaine bit his lip and leaned down gradually. He pressed his lips to Kurt's neck but was met with a squeal and a hand sharp to his shoulder.

"What the-"

"It's me! It's me!" Blaine winced, laughing. As his eyes met Kurt's frantic ones, he felt another jab to his shoulder.

"You idiot. You complete and utter idiot, Blaine Anderson. Who goes creeping around like something from a horror movie? My nerves are fragile, you know?"

"I'm sorry, you just looked very cute," Blaine cooed, kneeling down in front of Kurt's knees, "and I wanted to say goodnight before I went to sleep."

"Sneaking up behind someone in the dark and terrifying the life out of them is not generally the way one says goodnight, Blaine." Kurt could barely hide his smile beyond the snark. His heart was beating out of time but the cause wasn't simply the pure terror of being shocked out of his nightly rendition of 'Born This Way'. Blaine looked lovely; his hair was loose and curling over the edge of his bottle green sweater.

"Do you forgive me?" Blaine asked sheepishly, almost pouting in response, "I'm so very sorry."

"I might be persuaded," Kurt teased gently with a smile.

It was all the encouragement Blaine needed. He leaned up, tugging at the cloud-like fluff of Kurt's sweater and pulling him closer gradually until their lips met gently. As Kurt's hand slid into Blaine's hair, he was sure his body was melting, actually turning to liquid at the delicious way it felt to be touched so preciously. Kurt was delicate and any touch was usually feather-light and tender but at times he was persistent and rough- it mirrored his personality perfectly. The fun was working out which mood Kurt was in by the way he handled you.

Kurt gasped into the kiss at the pitter patter of fingers travelling up his thighs. His back arched and fingers tugged at the handful of curls he held. Blaine's entire body buzzed into life as he felt the distinct responsiveness of Kurt's body at every single movement.

"Mmmm," Blaine mumbled into a slightly deeper kiss. The way he wriggled happily at the touch only prompted Kurt to pull him closer and with more intent. He felt his own skin prickle with heat at the response. He was causing Blaine to react this way, he was causing him to make those tiny noises...

Blaine sucked his lips free, gazing woozily up into Kurt's eyes. "Goodnight, then," he said simply but entirely breathless.

Kurt gaped, his lips pink and in a pout which could only be described as petulant. "You're leaving?" He didn't intend for his voice to sound so needy but there it was...

Blaine reached the door and turned, taking in Kurt's ruffled clothes and flushed face. He took a breath to steady himself before offering a wink and disappearing into the corridor. The tiny jump of elation was inevitable and so was the added confidence to take their relationship to the next level. He was informed and fired up with more happiness than he was sure he could handle.

Well, I fell in love with Thomas more and pretty much died writing their scene at their adorable relationship. The end killed me too. I love writing stroppy but "I love it really" Kurt ; )

I tried to sort the Britishisms out but I FEAR there may be one or two that I'm entirely unaware of... please let me know and I'll sort them out.

Next Chapter: Both boys attend the mixer and things get a little... out of hand.