college expirements

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Heads up: this is REALLY long (heheh no pun intended) I just wanted to say that this was the cutest and the most sinfully hot and there might be a part 2 idk
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From the beginning, there's just something about Blaine.
There shouldn't be, at least not on the surface—he is more or less a carbon copy of last year's roommate, with only a few key differences; he plays the cello, not the drums, and he's actually attractive, if you're into unruly curls and eyelashes that go on for days and hazel eyes so clear that you could probably do your hair in the reflection they provide. (Kurt could so potentially be into all of that, but bear with him for a minute.)
Otherwise Blaine is no different; he's one of those perfectly average band dudes that Kurt has somehow managed to be shacked up with all throughout college. He shrugs and smiles and shoves his hands in his pockets more than he talks. He wears cargo shorts and baseball caps and doesn't shower as often as Kurt might like. He leaves dirty clothes draped over the furniture and doesn't seem to mind pizza boxes as decor notes. He has sex with the girls from the wind ensemble but never seems to want to date them.
It's a liberal area and college, and they're both in the music program; Kurt doesn't expect homophobia to be an issue. All of his previous roommates have been straight, and he'd had the same conversation with them as he has with Blaine at the beginning of their junior year.
"Okay, so, I'm single as of this summer, and there may occasionally be guys in here," he'd said, after a few days of casual new roommate bonding. "If you see a red scarf on the doorknob it means exactly what you think it means."
Blaine had been extraordinarily relaxed about it. He'd nodded and tugged a green scarf from Kurt's hand and replied, "Green for me? Cool, man."
And that had been that in terms of sexy time negotiation and making it clear where Kurt's preferences sit—Blaine's nonchalance had been a relief.

*

Difference number two is the revelation that Blaine is friends with Kurt's best friend, Rachel.
Kurt meets her at the mall for shopping one weekend and there's Blaine, texting lazily with one hand and holding Rachel's bags in the other, looking relaxed but disinterested. When Rachel and Kurt air kiss each other's cheeks and link arms and start going on about a sale that they're excited about taking advantage of Blaine looks up at them and disengages his ass from the edge of the fountain that he's been leaning on.
"Wow, hey, Kurt," he says. "What's up?"
Seriously, are those eyelashes even real?
"Please tell me that you aren't dating Rachel," he blurts rudely, because the first thing that flashes through his mind are images of accidentally walking in on them in the dorm and Rachel is so much like a sister to him that he literally cannot even with that. "You're not dating him, are you?"
Rachel rolls her eyes. "We went to the same high school senior year and helped each other with our college apps and auditions. Relax." She flutters her eyelashes at Blaine. "Meet us back here in an hour?"
Blaine smiles. "Sure." He adjusts the brim of his cap, and Kurt isn't sure but—for a moment it's almost as if he uses the motion to cover sweeping his eyes over Kurt from head to toe.
He couldn't really blame Blaine, if that was what it had looked like. He'd almost killed himself getting into his jeans this morning, and the sleeveless top and vest combination that he's wearing doesn't hide much. He smiles to himself and switches his hips intentionally, knowing exactly how good his ass looks, until they're out of sight of his roommate.
He's always had a thing for that kind of boy, despite the habit being unworthy of the disappointment it usually comes with.
"Why didn't you tell me he was your roommate?" Rachel asks.
"How was I supposed to know that roommate Blaine was your Glee friend from McKinley Blaine?"
"It's not like he's been talking about you to me with names, either. He just said his roommate was 'cool'."
Kurt exhales. "Anyway. No harm done. Let's go race some bitches to the racks."

*

After that, Blaine is just—a fixture. He's occasionally with Rachel, yes, smiling and dropping funny one liners that surprise Kurt. But he also seems to always be turning up at the same networking events, the same parties, the same bars, and the same performances as Kurt. He makes social connections in Kurt's secondary and tertiary social circles. He's never quite at the center of Kurt's whirling friendship spirals, but he's never far from the edges of them, either.
They see each other more often outside of their dorm room than inside of it, often passing each other at night and in the mornings, both of them busy, rushing to get showered or to class. Neither study in their room much; they have preferred spots in the library and common rooms. Blaine's best friend Sam is a commuter, so he's always shooting off to the commuter's lounge to keep him company.
Kurt entertains a bit of a crush on Blaine. It's nothing serious; it's just a harmless observation of a cute, somewhat generic straight guy who occasionally seems to check him out right back in blink-and-you'd-miss-it sort of way. It's not the first time that a guy of any sexual orientation has had his head turned by Kurt's flawless skin or long body or wide, pink mouth. It's not even as evolved as some of the hook-ups that Kurt had enjoyed freshman year when all he'd wanted was to shed the chains of high school, learn what his body liked, and not feel guilty about either of those things.
He'd had his fair share of one night stands with straight guys, gay guys, and every sort in between. He'd dated, he'd had his heart broken, he'd fallen in what he'd been convinced at the time was love twice—and so thinking that Blaine is adorable and finding Blaine's glances at him flattering is just the result of neatly arranged self confidence. He's fine with it. It's nice to be noticed, and it flies so far below the radar that it doesn't make their rooming situation awkward, either.
Which isn't to say that he doesn't turn it up a bit, when the mood strikes. He may sometimes on Saturday mornings when he knows that they'll both be sleeping in wake up early and strut around the room in his boxer briefs for longer than is strictly necessary. At twenty years old he knows exactly what he looks like—he's tall and lean, with a width to his shoulders and arms that he'd only dreamed of at fourteen, but he's also still in possession of that Kurt Hummel charm that makes his body flow like liquid and his eyelashes flutter and his lips purse coyly. He's always been an enticing blend of masculine and feminine traits, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out which side of him comes out flirtatiously around supposedly straight boys who can't seem to take their eyes off of his ass.
And Blaine is definitely effected. He wakes up, arranges himself with a blush, takes a shower and then comes back to their room in sweatpants and a tank top and shower shoes, trying very obviously to not notice Kurt standing there in nothing but underwear so fitted that nothing is left to the imagination.
"Rehearsal?" Kurt asks, hovering in front of his closet. He looks over his shoulder just in time to catch Blaine's eyes on his naked back. He tenses his thighs to show off the muscles in them, and the way that doing so makes his ass clench up high is impossible to not notice.
"Uh, yeah," Blaine replies, clearing his throat. "Just my section, but yeah."
"Can I come with?" Kurt asks, on a whim.
"Sure," Blaine says, smiling.
"I'll just be a minute."
Fitted denim shorts and a lavender button-up and a handful of product in his hair later, Kurt is slinging on a pair of sandals and his sunglasses. He looks fabulous, and judging by the darkened cheeks and bobbing swallows Blaine thinks so, too.
Grinning, he loops his arm through the crook of Blaine's elbow and hip-bumps him. "Lead the way, Mr. Cello."
The afternoon is an exercise in blatant teasing; Kurt can't help himself. It's just so much fun, slinking around in ways that make Blaine's eyes follow him. He knows he's being a horrendous flirt, but Blaine doesn't seem annoyed by it, and Blaine's friends make it easy by simply not caring to notice, or at least pretending not to. They have lunch after rehearsal and Kurt ends up on the same side of the booth as the gay guys and he turns it up a notch, beginning a detailed conversation about the guy that he had broken up with over the summer.
"Hold my bag?" he asks Blaine as they walk back toward their dorms, his friends in a loose circle all around them. "I need to use the powder room." He winks, and skips across the courtyard to duck into a bathroom. When he comes back he smiles, takes his satchel from Blaine and kisses him on the cheek. "Thanks." He slides his arm through Blaine's idly.
When they get back to the room he changes (he'd spilled ketchup on his shirt at lunch), and feels Blaine watch. "I've got a study group. Are you coming to Waterfront tonight?"
Blaine, cheeks red, sits down at his computer desk with his bag over his lap. "Yeah, I'll, uh. See you there."
Kurt gently ruffles Blaine's hair on his way out.

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