A/N: I don't know. I honestly just don't know. This was meant to be total crack but then the boys had to go and have ~feelings n shit. Idk how long it'll be or how often I'll update, but I'll do my best to get it done. Thanks to the awesome Rinny for beta reading. Comments make me happy. :D
Also I love how just when I decide to start posting this more bodyswap fic starts popping up it makes me feel so unoriginal.
This is also on livejournal if you prefer (my journal was made solely for posting fic. lulz.) http:/ .com/ without the spaces!

"You and your shortcuts," Kurt grumbles, scowling at the back of Blaine's head as they walk down yet another Dalton hallway.

"I'm sure this is the right way," Blaine says earnestly. Kurt had believed him the first time he said this, and the second time. "Come on, we're going to be late."

"What are we even doing up here?" Kurt knows he's whining, but he sort of feels entitled. He's dutifully followed Blaine all over the school looking for this classroom, but even though Blaine has attended this school since he was fourteen he doesn't seem to know a single thing about its layout. "Wes isn't going to lock us in a closet again hoping we'll make out, is he?" It would be funnier if it hadn't actually happened once.

Blaine shrugs, peeking into yet another abandoned classroom before moving on. It's got to be around here somewhere. He'd gone left just like Wes told him to. Or did he say not to turn left? He can't remember exactly. "I guess the Warbler rehearsal room got flooded or something, so we have to use a different room for the moment."

"A room one floor up and on a completely different side of the school?"

"I took a wrong turn, okay? It's an easy mistake to make!" Kurt just rolls his eyes, but Blaine chooses to ignore it. "Let's go this way!" He grins and disappears around a corner. He's sure they'll find the classroom soon. Even when his shortcuts end up being more like long cuts they always work out. Eventually.

Kurt sighs, hefting his bag up over his shoulder. "Wait for me." He doesn't, of course, he's already turning the next corner by the time Kurt gets there. "Blaine, just wait."

"We have to hurry or we'll be late."

"We're already late!" He groans, breaking into a jog to try and catch up. Today is one of those days when he'd much rather punch Blaine in the face then kiss him, not that he has the nerve to do either of those things. He can fantasize, though, and he's doing just that when he literally bumps into him. Blaine doesn't seem to notice. "Ow. What is it?" He glances up at Blaine's face and is immediately worried. "Blaine, is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. We're not actually allowed to be up here, though."

"What? Why?" Kurt looks around. He's never been to this part of the school before, but that's not saying much. Dalton Academy is huge, and old. He's really only been where his classes take him. This area looks like it hasn't seen use in a while, the floorboards creaky and covered in dust, the curtains drawn tight over the windows. Some cleaning supplies rest in a corner, forgotten and molding.

Blaine takes a step forward, trying to open the first door he comes across. It's either locked or stuck from disuse, and he wipes the dust from the doorknob on his uniform pants. "I guess it's unsafe. Most of us think it's haunted, though." He grins. Everyone at Dalton seemed to have creepy stories to share, though Blaine hasn't experienced much. Once he felt an invisible hand grab his shoulder, and then heard footsteps walking past him even though no one was around, but that's about it. Still, it's generally accepted that a building this old has to have some sort of eerie history and a few ghosts floating around.

Just lovely, Kurt thinks. Instead of following Blaine, he hangs back. "Okay, so, definitely not where we're supposed to be. Maybe we should leave."

"Hang on a minute."

"Blaine, we're going to get in trouble. We're going to be late."

He tries another door. This one opens, but it ends up being a broom closet home to nothing but a couple of spiders. "By the time we get there we'll have missed practice and there's

no one here to catch us. Come on, I want to look around."

Kurt takes a hesitant step forward, and the floor creaks underneath his feet. "I really don't like this. I think we should go."

"Scared?"

"Oh, please."

"Then come on!"

Kurt trails behind him uncertainly, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the dust that immediately settles over his shoes. "This is stupid."

"I just want to see if there's anything interesting up here. Don't be so boring."

Oh, he's boring now? Sometimes he doesn't understand why he has a crush on this boy. He's about to retort when he hears the unmistakable sound of footsteps coming closer. They look at each other, eyes wide. "Shitshitshit," Blaine hisses.

"How much trouble did you say we'd get into?" Kurt whispers.

"Dylan Samson got suspended for sneaking around up here last year."

The footsteps get louder, and a faint voice calls out, "Is someone up here?" Kurt's eyes widen even more. "Shit."

"Come on come on come on!" Blaine grabs his hand, tugging him roughly towards yet another door, which thankfully opens with only a little trouble. It's dark in the abandoned room, the only light coming from a tiny window at the top of the wall. Blaine locks the door and steps back. Kurt's breath sounds too loud in the dark room, so he holds his breath as the footsteps grow louder, pause in front of the door – Blaine's hand is still wrapped around his, and he grips it painfully – then continue on, growing fainter.

They remain silent for a long time, just to be sure, until Blaine finally lets go of his hand, flexing his fingers absently. Kurt's hand is sore from the tight grip, but as soon as the contact is gone he wants it back. His thoughts are interrupted by the light overhead suddenly flickering on – he looks at Blaine in time to see him flick a light switch by the door.

He blinks against the sudden light, looking around the now dimly lit room. It's full of stacked up boxes, mostly, and a decrepit desk sits in a corner, a few odds and ends stacked up on it. In the other corner there's a tall old mirror, so covered in dust and cobwebs that it doesn't reflect anything. He doesn't like being in this room-he just gets a freaky vibe from it, like they're not meant to be there.

Blaine steps forward, opening up whatever boxes are on top. Kurt watches him, fidgeting uncomfortably. After a moment, he says, "Blaine, we should go."

"I'm just looking around." He abandons the boxes and starts rummaging through the desk instead.

"I don't like this. There's nothing here anyway. Let's go."

Blaine ignores him, and Kurt doesn't even know why this is a problem, doesn't know why he's freaked out. Except the weird room seems to be affecting Blaine, too, but in a different way.

"Just looking." He repeats, his voice weirdly blank. Blaine knows he's looking for something specific as he roots through the junk on the desk. He's not sure what, but he's hyper-focused on the search. He hardly even hears Kurt complaining in the background, but whatever, Kurt's probably making a big deal out of nothing. And maybe, in the back of his mind, he knows that the fact that he's ignoring his best friend when he's obviously extremely worried is a sign that something is wrong here, but he doesn't dwell too much on it.

He needs to focus on finding…something. He'll know when he sees it.

Kurt contemplates leaving, but what if his intuition or whatever is right and something bad happens to Blaine? He grips the strap of his bag tightly as he watches his best friend rummage around like a man possessed. "Blaine, please, we need to get to class," he pleads. "You're scaring me."

"Check this out." Blaine picks something up, something that fits into the palm of his hand. He walks back over to Kurt, holding out the whatever-it-is for him to see. It's a small, square box, carved in intricate patterns and then painted in swirling, glittering blues and greens. There are letters scratched into the sides, but they're not from any alphabet Kurt recognizes. It's beautiful, he supposes, but when Blaine holds it out to him he recoils. "What's wrong?"

"Get rid of it," he pleads. It gives him the same feeling as the rest of the room. It feels wrong.

"Jeez, Kurt. It's just a box. Wonder what's inside."

Kurt shakes his head. "I don't care. Leave it."

Blaine ignores him, trying to pry the lid off with his fingers. "Stuck," he mumbles, but he finally manages to shift it a little.

"Don't!" Kurt pleads, because he knows, he just knows that something bad will happen if he doesn't stop him. When the lid shifts again, almost all the way off, he acts on instinct, reaching out to grab the box with the intention of knocking it out of Blaine's hand.

Instead, a jolt runs first through his fingers, then up his arm, then through the rest of his body like an electric shock, finally reaching his head.

As soon as the electricity, or whatever it is, reaches his brain, his vision goes white, and he's barely aware of his knees buckling, and falling to the floor. There's a rushing in his ears, and then all at once it feels like his body is being stretched and pulled all the wrong ways, and he can hear someone screaming – is it Blaine? He can't tell, it's too far away, but he feels the sound wrenched from his own throat, too, so maybe it's both of them –

And then he can't hear anything, or see. The only thing he remembers as he falls unconscious is the touch of Blaine's fingertips against his.

When Blaine opens his eyes, he immediately has to shut them again against the wave of dizziness and the nausea that come with the action. He breathes deeply – not an easy task, his chest feels tight and almost bruised – and tries to assess whether or not he's okay.

He feels sore, but not actually injured, sort of like he'd overworked himself while exercising and is now making up for it, or – well, like he'd passed out on a hard wood floor for god knows how long. He's lying on his back, he can tell that, but he can't remember how he got there or why he blacked out. He tries to retrace his steps. Kurt had freaked out and he hadn't cared, for whatever reason, too focused on… oh. The box. The box which, he suddenly realizes, he's still holding on to.

He hears a groan – in a voice that sounds too low to be Kurt's voice, and he wonders suddenly if there's anyone else in the room. He opens his eyes slowly (this time the dizziness isn't as bad) and turns his head toward the voice.

And looks into his own eyes.

He and – his clone? What the fuck? – both yelp at the same time, sitting up and scrambling backwards. But the cry that comes from his throat? Too high pitched, too… too Kurt.

"Who are you? What's going on?" The other him cries, then gasps and claps a hand over his mouth, eyes going even wider if possible at the sound of his voice.

"I…" Yeah, no mistaking it, Kurt's distinctive voice is coming out of his mouth. He lifts a shaking hand – too pale, the nails neatly manicured in a way he's never had the patience to do – and touches his face. His skin is too soft, and where he normally has a five o' clock shadow by the end of the day it's smooth to the touch. He continues to explore the strange (and yet so, so familiar) face, his fingers tracing perfectly shaped eyebrows, soft lips, a pert, upturned nose. A few feet away he watches The Other Him – the clone, whatever you want to call it, he can call it anything besides what he knows, in his heart, is its real name – do the same thing.

"Who are you?" The Other Him repeats, letting his hand drop from his face.

Blaine doesn't want to believe it. But he answers anyway, everything in him recoiling from the sound of Kurt's voice coming out of his mouth when he speaks. "Kurt? Is that you?" He has to ask, just to be sure.

"Of course it is," he snaps. "Who are you, you freak? Why do you look like me?"

"It's me," Blaine whispers. "It's Blaine."

Kurt – how can that be Kurt, how can Kurt have Blaine's body, his face, his voice? – shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "No. Stop it."

"I swear it's me. I don't know what's going on but it seems like we switched bodies –"

"Stop it! I don't believe you!" Kurt hugs his knees to his chest, still shaking his head. This isn't happening to him. This is absolutely not happening to him and soon he'll wake up and this will all be a dream.

Blaine glances around, his eyes falling on the mirror in the corner. "Come here," he urges, because he has to be sure. He stands up, taking a moment to steady himself against the dizziness before gesturing for Kurt to follow him over to the mirror. Kurt comes to stand beside him as Blaine dusts off enough of the mirror with his sleeve to be able to see.

He raises a hand, just to be sure. The reflection of Kurt moves along with him.

"Oh my god," Kurt whispers, and he expects his lips to move along with the words, but Blaine's reflection moves instead. He is Blaine, and Blaine is him, and… "Oh my god." His breath comes with difficulty, he can feel himself start to hyperventilate. Yeah, he thinks, the voice in his head far calmer than he actually feels. This is the perfect time for a panic attack, Kurt.

"Okay, okay, stay calm," Blaine says, but he sounds about as relaxed as Kurt feels.

"NO, BLAINE, I AM NOT GOING TO STAY CALM!" He yells. Not when you're just standing there in my body, talking in my voice…

"Shh!" Blaine hisses. "We can still get in trouble for being up here!"

"Oh, yeah, because that is our biggest worry right now!"

"You think I'm not freaking out?" Blaine snaps. "We have to stay calm or we'll never figure out what's going on here."

Kurt takes a deep breath, dragging his eyes away from the mirror because the sight of them is making him even more panicked. "Okay," he says after he's calmed down a little.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry. Like I said, I am plenty freaked out." Blaine sighs. "Okay. So. I'm in your body, and you're in mine. But what happened?"

Kurt shrugs. "You were acting weird and you tried to open that box." He points to where they had been laying, and Blaine notices for the first time that he'd dropped it when he stood up. It's now laying on its side, the lid sitting a few inches away."I tried to stop you. When I touched it we both blacked out."

"It's something to do with the box, then."

He nods, but he doesn't move to grab the box. The thing still scares him. "How is this possible, Blaine?" He asks quietly.

"If I knew we would have fixed it by now." Blaine runs a hand through his – well, Kurt's - hair – Kurt would snap at him but it's already messed up, anyway – and steps over to where the box lies. He picks it up. It feels lighter in his hand, this time, and cool to the touch. "We switched when I opened it. So… maybe if I close it?" Kurt raises an eyebrow, and seeing his signature bitch face expression on Blaine's own features is too bizarre. "Well, it's worth a try." He holds the box out, and Kurt hesitates a moment before reaching out to touch it.

No electrical shock, this time. Blaine carefully closes the lid. He waits a moment, but nothing happens. He opens it again.

"Sorry." He sighs. He refuses to be discouraged, after all, he hadn't really expected that to work. He takes turns the box over in his hand, looking for any clue. When he turns it upside down, a small, folded up piece of paper that he'd somehow missed falls out.

Kurt picks it up first, his eyes scanning the words as he sits down and unfolds the paper. Blaine watches as his eyes widen, but then his expression hardens into something he can't read.

"What is it?" He asks, but judging from Kurt's expression he's not sure he wants to know. Kurt holds it out to him. The paper is a little yellow from age, the edges crinkling when he holds it carefully between his fingers. He feels his breath catch in his throat as he reads the words written there.

Only when you become one, in heart and in body, will you change back to your true forms.

When he looks away from the paper and back at Kurt, Kurt is staring at him. "Correct me if I'm wrong," Kurt says after a few moments of silence. "But did that thing just say that we have to fuck in order to switch back?"

Blaine wants to laugh at the way Kurt stumbles over the word 'fuck', but he doesn't. Kurt could be wrong. He wants him to be wrong. But…"Yeah," he says weakly. "I think it just might have."