Beta: Laura aka- gottriplets <3
Warnings: First time sex, blow jobs, exhibitionism, sexting, gay sex all around- the usual :)
Summary: Kurt doesn’t think the Blaine Anderson will ever notice him, so he’s not in the least bit prepared for what happens when he does. (My take on the whole Popular!Blaine, nerd!Kurt trope)
This was written for this GKM prompt, so go check it out and possibly leave me some love <3
*Side note- anyone looking to track this, it will always be tagged as “Fic: Carry Your Shame”
AN: This chapter was the hardest one to write and possibly will be the hardest one to read. Just try to remember that both of these boys are teenagers who both make mistakes. That’s how I wrote them, flawed and 15/16 years old.
New Year’s Day, twelve hours after Blaine drove Kurt back home from the party in complete silence, Kurt found himself on Blaine’s porch. He hadn’t been able to sleep much. He just kept picturing the jocks surrounding him while Blaine fought off Jackson. He kept remembering how Blaine could barely look at him after Jackson had pledged to make Kurt’s life hell. He kept hearing Blaine tell them that he was just a fuck buddy.
Still, Kurt found himself at Blaine’s house desperate to fix whatever had broken last night. He didn’t want one bad night to ruin all that they were working towards and he knew if he could just convince Blaine that he could handle whatever was about to come, it would be alright.
He rang the doorbell impatiently waiting in the cold for Blaine to come to the door. After a minute, when Kurt heard no reply, he rang the bell again. He knew that Blaine was home because his car was in the driveway, he could only guess that meant Blaine was ignoring him. He pushed down on the doorbell harshly, barely containing his anger. Blaine didn’t get to ignore him. When there was still no response, Kurt tried the door, not surprised to find it unlocked. Blaine always forgot to pay attention to little details like that.
“Blaine?” He called out, hearing music coming from upstairs. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t ignoring him. He just had his music up so loud that he couldn’t hear the doorbell.
He took time to hang up his coat and scarf and unlace his boots. He needed to think about how he wanted to approach this with Blaine. If he went in yelling and screaming, Blaine would shut down immediately. He remembered Angeli’s advice from a few weeks back. It wasn’t that Blaine didn’t want to talk, it’s that he never thought anybody would listen. Kurt would need to take this slow, let Blaine bring it up and then they could discuss their next step logically.
Once he’d gotten his shoes off, he had no more reason to delay the inevitable and made his way up to Blaine’s room. The sight that greeted Kurt wasn’t uncommon. Blaine was laying on the floor, eyes closed as music came from the recently resurrected record player next to him. He was belting the words to the song with so much passion it caused the hair on Kurt’s arms to stand up. No matter how many times he told Blaine he needed to share his voice with the world, he never listened to him.
What was uncommon was the split lip and the black eye that marred his otherwise perfect face. He looked tired. His hair was a bit of a mess and there were dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept. Kurt wondered if he’d been up all night with nightmares like Kurt had been. It made him sad to know that even with the safety Blaine had found in his popularity, there were still people willing to remind him of the days he’d been beaten and hospitalized for wanting to bring a boy to a dance.
Blaine was currently singing along to his latest find, some singer named Ron Pope who Blaine kept cursing himself for not finding sooner because he was “God’s gift to vivid imagery in song.” Those had been Blaine’s exact words the other day. God’s gift to vivid imagery in song.
How had Kurt managed to fall for such a goober? How could the rest of the world be so cruel to a boy who only ever wanted to find symbolism in lyrics? A boy who was perfectly content with a new song and some headphones. A boy who just wanted to be perfect for everyone and couldn’t manage to do that when everyone wanted him to be something different.
Kurt supposed he was part of that problem. He had pushed for Blaine to be open about himself. It wasn’t like Kurt had asked for him to be anything but himself, though. He wasn’t asking him to act more straight. He wasn’t even asking him to act more gay, he just wanted him to stop pretending he didn’t hurt when he did. He wanted him to stop pretending he was content when he wasn’t. He just wanted Blaine to take what he wanted rather than pretend he didn’t need things for himself.
Especially when what Blaine clearly wanted was Kurt.
He stayed by the door, leaning against the frame, content to watch Blaine perform like he was singing to millions alone in his room, unaware of Kurt’s presence. In fact, Kurt had the luxury of watching two whole songs before Blaine opened his eyes and saw him standing barely a few feet away. Kurt was sad to see that his eyes were bloodshot, a sign he’d been crying earlier even if his eyes were dry at the moment.
Blaine stopped belting out the lyrics, but he didn’t stop singing as he held out his hands, motioning for Kurt to join him. He didn’t look upset to see him, but he didn’t look overjoyed either. There was a bittersweet smile on his face. Kurt understood perfectly. They both saw the cracks in their relationship that had grown longer and deeper overnight.
Kurt pulled an extra pillow off the bed along with the fleece blanket to cover them both with before settling down on the floor with him. He didn’t cuddle into Blaine’s chest like he usually would, but he didn’t distance himself either. They lay with ankles knocking into each other as feet tapped to the beat. Elbows grazed each other, reminding them they weren’t alone as they stared at the ceiling listening to the music in silence, letting the lyrics say the words of love and longing that neither of them could quite vocalize.
After a few songs, a much slower one came on. It was an acoustic performance, just a voice and a guitar that felt so different when compared to the melodic piano that had dominated the previous songs. Blaine turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. He traced Kurt’s face reverently as he sang a song about being the reason he came home.
Kurt tried to tell himself that it was just a coincidence. The song had been the next track on the record. Blaine hadn’t specifically chosen this song to serenade Kurt with. Yet he knew Blaine didn’t just pick records at random. Blaine was the boy who read every lyric. He was the boy who memorized every note and played a song on repeat until he understood the message and could apply it to his own life. The songs he played, they always had a meaning he was trying to convey. There was always something he was trying to say, be it with the words themselves or just the melody. So he knew that Blaine really meant every word as he quietly sang the peaceful yet painfully sad song.
You’re the reason that when everything I know falls apart, you’re the reason I come home.
The lyrics were so loving, so why did they sound like a goodbye when Blaine sang them? He shook his head, not wanting to hear what Blaine was so clearly trying to tell him. Kurt had come here to fight for the two of them to stay together, not to say goodbye. Not to let Blaine say goodbye.
Blaine cared about Kurt but he couldn’t do this anymore, that’s what Blaine was saying with this song. He could see it in his eyes—red and puffy, black and blue, incredibly tortured eyes.
“I think I let you believe this was more than it was,” Blaine said, his voice small and strangled.
“You’re lying,” Kurt said, feeling the tears start to fall from his eyes. He knew why Blaine was doing this and hated him for it.
This wasn’t Blaine saying he didn’t care about him; this was him being unable to admit he was scared of Jackson and all the other kids at school. This was him being too cowardly to fight for love. It made Kurt want to scream, but he knew it was no use. There was no way to fight for Blaine now. He would be a jackass if he yelled at him for being scared of being gay bashed when he’d spent six weeks in the hospital his freshman year. How else was he supposed to convince Blaine they were good for each other if Blaine wouldn’t listen and Kurt couldn’t make him?
“You’re a good friend,” Blaine’s voice cracked and he couldn’t even look him in the eye as he continued to stab Kurt with his words. “But this was never more than fooling around for me. I don’t think it’s a good idea to do this anymore.”
“Stop it,” he said, sitting up and moving away from him angrily. “Stop it. Just stop talking.”
“You clearly care about me more than I do you,” Blaine lied.
Kurt knew it was a lie, but that didn’t make the words sting any less. In fact, it made them sting more. Blaine was in love with him, Kurt could tell. He didn’t have a lot of experience with this, but he knew Blaine loved him. It just made him so angry that they had found each other only to be pulled apart by something so stupid—by people too hateful to notice how perfect they were together.
Fuck, what had they ever really done to Jackson anyway to warrant him and his friends bullying them last night? This wasn’t fair. Kurt had been so close to having Blaine. Everyone at the party and been so accepting and Blaine had looked so happy. Then those hateful assholes had to come along and ruin everything.
Kurt stared into his eyes for the longest time until the song ended and Kurt heard the telltale sound of static that signaled the end of the record. The song was over. There wasn’t another one to follow, that was it.
Well Kurt couldn’t just leave without trying everything he could keep the only perfect thing he’d ever had. He leaned in and gave Blaine an open, wet, tearful kiss filled with all the passion of two boys who didn’t want to let go but didn’t know how to hold on. He fisted at Blaine’s sweater as he sobbed into the kiss, knowing it would be the last time.
He rolled Blaine on top of him, needing to feel the weight of him. Needing the security of being completely surrounded by somebody that cared for him. It took him a minute to realize that it wasn’t just his tears being spilled but Blaine’s as well. Blaine was grasping at every part of Kurt he could reach with trembling hands, desperate to memorize every part of him.
God, why wasn’t courage something you could gift? Why wasn’t he enough to make the fear worth it for Blaine? Why did two broken boys have to be soul mates? Wouldn’t it have been easier if they could each find somebody that could actually take care of them?
Kurt couldn’t teach bravery and Blaine couldn’t keep Kurt safe. As long as they were too helpless to stop the bullying, they wouldn’t be good for each other. Scratch that, he wouldn’t be good for Blaine. Kurt didn’t need anyone else to take care of him. He just needed somebody to love him and hold him when things got too rough.
Kurt wasn’t looking for a hero; he was looking for a lover. Blaine didn’t understand that yet. He didn’t understand that Kurt wasn’t some damsel in distress that needed to be saved. Blaine didn’t understand that he could still be worthy of love even if he wasn’t the knight in shining armor of the story.
Blaine didn’t understand that he could be the knight in shining armor if he’d just admit to his fear and learn to face it.
He didn’t protest when Blaine pulled at his shirt, untucking it from his jeans. He continued to cry as achingly soft, reverent hands skimmed across his stomach followed by sweet kisses that quickly turned into angry bites. Neither of them wanted this. The thought of being separated was just as gut wrenching for Blaine as it was for Kurt.
He fisted his hands into Blaine’s hair, knowing that he could never hold on tight enough for Blaine to feel it in the ways that mattered. So he just bit his lip as Blaine unbuckled his belt and watched silently as Blaine’s fingers struggled to figure out the buttons on his pants. After a few more failed attempts, Blaine growled, frustrated and moved back up his body so they could crash their lips together, this time much harsher.
Kurt bit at Blaine’s lip, hearing him grunt as his split lip reopened. It was the taste of copper that brought Kurt back to reality. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t lie here and give himself to Blaine, no matter how good it felt. He couldn’t do it if Blaine was just going to throw this away.
He pushed Blaine off himself, sitting up just as the agonized sobs took over him. Blaine’s arms quickly came around him and Kurt fell into them, crying for what seemed like hours onto his shoulder as Blaine ran gentle hands through his hair, never once telling him that it would be okay. He knew better than to lie like that, even if he didn’t yet know how to be completely honest.
“Why?” Kurt whispered, so defeated but still holding on like an idiot. Still thinking maybe, if he just found the right words, the right actions, maybe he could convince him otherwise.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, but never said what he was sorry for. Kurt wondered if he really knew all the ways he was killing Kurt.
God, the person you love shouldn’t be able to hurt you worse than your enemies, Kurt thought. He’d never felt like this before. This was worse than being kissed by Karofsky and having his life threatened. This was his heart at stake and that was so much more painful.
“If Jackson hadn’t—” Kurt started but was cut off by Blaine’s finger to his lips.
“Then somebody else would,” he said with a shake of his head like he’d already had this conversation with himself countless times. “I’m not good for you and we would have figured that out sooner or later.”
Kurt wanted to argue with him, but he knew that nothing he said would get through to Blaine. Maybe actions could speak louder than words though, he thought. So Kurt lifted his head from Blaine’s shoulder and gently grabbed at the back of his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. He did his best to communicate just how much he cared into the kiss. He forced Blaine to keep it gentle this time, not allowing him to use the two of them together as a way to punish himself later. If Blaine was going to turn him away, he was going to do it with the memory that Kurt was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
Kurt pulled Blaine to his feet and led him towards the bed, never letting their lips separate long enough for Blaine to really think about what they were doing. As they fell back into the pillows and Kurt got Blaine’s shirt off him, Blaine pulled back, shaking his head frantically. He could see Blaine arguing with himself, telling himself not to want this. Well Kurt wasn’t going to allow that.
“I can’t,” Blaine said as Kurt moved to suck at his pulse point.
“Why not?” he asked, letting his hand fall to where Blaine was hard in his sweatpants. As soon as Kurt felt his hard on and heard him gasp, he remembered how powerless Blaine was with just the right combination of words and touches.
“We shouldn’t… we can’t,” he argued as he half-heartedly tried to swat Kurt’s hand away.
“Blaine,” Kurt pulled back, looking at him seriously. “Tell me you honestly want me to stop and I’ll stop, but I want this and you can have it. Just let me?”
Blaine didn’t respond, except to trail his fingers over his chest absently. Kurt waited patiently, letting Blaine think over whatever it was he had to work through. Kurt was still breathing heavily from the crying earlier and now the kissing. He tried not to moan as Blaine’s little finger managed to catch over one of his nipples, but Blaine noticed. He looked up at Kurt through the tops of his long lashes and everything seemed to click into place for them.
They were kissing again, frantic and pulling at the rest of their clothes until they were naked and completely hard, rutting against each other. It wasn’t Kurt’s best plan. This moment was exactly the reason his father had given him a sex talk. He couldn’t care less. Not in this moment. Blaine was holding onto him, wanting him. It was going to be gone soon and Kurt just needed to experience everything he could get from him before that happened.
Who knew, maybe if Kurt was good enough, Blaine would change his mind.
They moaned into one another as they found a comfortable rhythm to rock to. Blaine’s hands were gripping at Kurt, lifting him off the bed in an attempt to get closer. Kurt could feel the uncomfortable ache from the bruise on his back he’d gotten yesterday, but that ache was easy to ignore when the one in his cock was so much more pressing.
“More,” he gasped as Blaine’s fingers passed over his hole.
Kurt took hold of Blaine’s dick and tried to shuffle them until it was pressing at his entrance, needing to feel more. Needing to feel all of Blaine so that they could be complete. He felt broken and he just needed this to fix them. He remembered being told sex never solved problems by teachers before, but he’s pretty sure that was just because they’d never had sex with Blaine. Right in this moment, it seemed like the most logical way to fix each other. It was the perfect solution.
Blaine couldn’t turn him away after this, right?
“Lube,” Blaine panted heavily, pulling away for a moment to dig a condom and a bottle of lube out of his nightstand. Blaine moved back to him and fumbled with the bottle, dropping it multiple times before Kurt finally sat up to help him, giving him a curious look.
“I’ve never actually done it like this,” Blaine whispered, surprising Kurt completely.
“You’ve never had sex?” he asked, surprised.
“No, I have… It’s just that, I guess nobody’s ever wanted me to… I didn’t…I’ve never done the actual entering,” he confessed, blushing heavily.
Kurt knew there was a story behind his fumbling and sudden loss of confidence, but he knew if he stopped and asked about it they would be brought back to reality too soon, so Kurt ignored it. He felt bad, but this was a game of self-preservation at the moment and Kurt just couldn’t afford to stop. Not right now.
It took several minutes to open Kurt up, and in that time Kurt started feeling drunk off lust and desperation. He assumed that’s what made him slip up and finally confess the words he’d been holding onto for awhile now.
“I love you,” he said as another shot of pleasure went through his body as Blaine brushed up against his prostate.
Blaine’s hand froze the second the words left Kurt’s mouth and he looked at him, trying to gauge how serious Kurt was. He did his best not to flinch under Blaine’s gaze. If they were really about to have sex, he needed Blaine to know that his feelings were real. That he was in love with him. He needed to give Blaine the chance to say it back.
“You shouldn’t,” was the only response he gave. It was said, so full of emotion that his voice was high and quivering. Kurt knew that it wasn’t an I love you. That it was his chance to stop this, but he didn’t. He simply told Blaine to shut up and kissed him, then gave him permission to fuck him thoroughly.
They were both crying before they could even get started and neither one lasted particularly long before they came. It was painfully obvious the second Blaine pulled out of him that sex had fixed absolutely nothing. In fact, it had made things worse. Now Kurt didn’t just feel rejected, he felt dirty. He’d given away something that was supposed to be special to a boy that didn’t love him enough to fight for him.
He’d practically begged for Blaine to take the last of his virginity and Blaine had. He’d taken it and hadn’t even had the decency to be honest about his feelings. Blaine hadn’t said it back.
Oh god. Blaine hadn’t even said it back.
How could he be so pathetic? So stupid and desperate for love?
Kurt rolled out of bed and started searching for his clothes needing to be dressed and out of the house as soon as possible. He couldn’t even meet Blaine’s eyes. He just felt so used. He tripped as he pulled his jeans on, but he didn’t stop, even when Blaine asked him to. He was crying, sobbing really and so was Blaine. Neither of them were under the assumption that this was a good decision on their part.
You will get through this, he reminded himself. He just had to get out of this house and away from Blaine and he’d figure out a way to pull himself together again. He’d thought his world was going to end before—first when his mother had died then again when his dad had a heart attack—it never did. Somehow Kurt always found his wings again and learned to fly. He’d do it again, even if it killed him to leave Blaine behind, knowing the boy he loved might never be fixed.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you need,” Blaine apologized, watching him sadly from his spot on the bed.
“You could, you just don’t want to be,” Kurt said bitterly.
Kurt could see Blaine starting to argue, wanting to say that he wanted this, but he quickly shut his mouth. Maybe he thought it would be better if Kurt had a reason to be angry at him. Maybe he just never learned to vocalize what he wanted. Maybe he really didn’t care at all and Kurt had just been fooling himself all along.
What if it was all a lie? He thought, feeling like he might throw up.
Regardless of Blaine’s reason, Kurt knew he couldn’t be with somebody that could take something so special without being willing to give in return. Kurt knew he couldn’t be with somebody that he gave to without a second thought. It wasn’t only Blaine’s fault that they’d had sex, but Kurt didn’t think he’d have made such a careless mistake for anybody else. He’d just wanted Blaine to love him.
Was he really that naive? He had sex with Blaine thinking it would make Blaine love him. He was one of those sad girls that always showed up on CW dramas, sleeping with boys thinking that was the only way to make them want them. It didn’t earn them respect or love; it just made them whores.
This wasn’t the person he wanted to become. He had to let Blaine go. He deserved better than this. Maybe one day that better would be Blaine, maybe it wouldn’t. For now, he couldn’t stay here. Not anymore.
Without a backwards glance, Kurt left the room and ran down the stairs, not looking back to see if Blaine cared enough to try and follow him out. He shoved his feet into his shoes and didn’t stop to lace them up he didn’t even bother trying to put on his coat before running out to his car. He dropped his keys three times before he got the door unlocked. There was plenty of time for Blaine to catch him before he left, but the front door to the house remained closed.
Blaine was just going to let him go.
He climbed into his car and willed himself to keep it together. His shaky fingers managed to get the key into the ignition and he turned on the car. He told himself not to look to Blaine’s window as he pulled out of the driveway. He knew no matter what he saw—closed curtains or hazel eyes—it would break him. He made it out of the neighborhood before he lost his control and the sobs of shame overtook his body.
He pulled over to the side of the road and at least remembered himself long enough to turn on his flashers. It wouldn’t do to get hit by a car out here, even if death seemed more peaceful at the moment then living through this heartbreak. He screamed, punched the steering wheel, cried out in agony, rubbed at his body frantically trying to feel clean again—nothing helped. Nothing ever could help.
His phone rang once. He silenced it. It rang again. Then it rang again. It seemed to ring non-stop. The melodies of Travis (a ringtone Blaine had made special just for Kurt) filled his car and made him sob hard enough to start gagging. He kept hearing the stupid chorus over and over on repeat making him feel even more foolish.
Love wouldn’t come through. Love was stupid. It wasn’t waiting for anyone, it didn’t exist. If it did? It was clearly some cruel joke. Hadn’t his father loved his mother before he’d had to watch her die? If that was what he had to look forward to, if today with Blaine was love… Well what was the point?
It wasn’t until the fifth ring that Kurt realized it wasn’t ringing nonstop, it had only rung once every half hour. He’d been sitting in his cold car, no heat, teeth chattering from the cold, for well over two hours. He hadn’t even noticed.
“What more is there to say?” he finally answered the phone, his words laced in steel. He needed to have his armor on. That was all part of surviving, never letting people see that they’d gotten to you. Wasn’t that the first thing he had learned?
“Did you get home alright?” Blaine asked, slightly shocked Kurt had picked up, but concerned as well. Kurt rolled his eyes; he didn’t get to act like he cared.
“Yes,” he lied.
“Kurt,” Blaine said patiently, clearly seeing through his lie. “You shouldn’t be driving in your condition.”
“Is that why you keep calling? You want to act all concerned so you don’t have to feel like a jackass for what you’ve done?” he asked, not holding back any punches. He’d just spend the last two and a half hours crying on the side of the road. He wasn’t going to concern himself with anyone’s feelings but his own.
“I’d hate to see you get in an accident because of this,” Blaine said carefully.
Kurt laughed, humorlessly. “Well you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”
“I should have listened to Finn when he told me to stay away from you,” Kurt said.
He could hear Blaine’s sharp intake of breath. Even several blocks away from each other, with only a phone line to keep them connected, Kurt could sense the shift in Blaine. He’s struck a very sensitive nerve and he knew it. He’d pushed that button. Blaine didn’t get to act all mature about this, like Kurt had misunderstood their arrangement. Blaine deserved to hurt as much as he did.
“Obviously,” he said, sounding cold and detached. Kurt had only ever heard him use that tone with Finn and those football boys from last night. He’d never imagined Blaine would need to use it with him. “He was right wasn’t he? I got your virginity and that’s all that matters right? It’s always about sex. I’m such a whore I don’t want anything else.”
“I can’t believe I slept with you,” Kurt said, feeling the sting of Blaine’s words like a hundred stab wounds to his gut.
“Oh, but you did. You begged for it,” he said, not even sounding like himself. “I’ve got the tape to prove it.”
A part of Kurt knew this was Blaine’s defense. He, like Kurt, had grown up having to protect himself. He’d learned to use words in ways that bit and ate away at others insecurities to keep himself safe. Self-preservation, that was all this was. It didn’t make it remotely okay though.
“Yeah? Well I’ve got that tape now you jackass and your right hand is going to be the only thing you have to keep you company at night, because as long as you act like this? You’re going to be alone and miserable for the rest of your life playing sex games with straight boys because nobody will ever really love you when you act like this.”
Kurt hung up the phone before he could hear whatever clever retort Blaine was sure to come up with. He hung up the phone before either of them broke down. He didn’t know if he could handle hearing Blaine cry and he certainly wasn’t going to let Blaine hear him cry anymore.
He threw his phone onto the passenger side seat violently then leaned back in his seat, covering his face with his hands. How had this all gone so wrong so fast? He turned his car battery on, turning up the volume of his radio loud so he could drown out his thoughts. He didn’t want to deal with any of this anymore. He didn’t want to hear the Blaine that he knew whispering sweet words and promises into his ear. He didn’t want to hear this Blaine hitting him with insults. He didn’t want any of it. He just wanted to go back in time before he’d ever met Blaine Anderson.
Maybe if he could drown in Cee Lo Green and Nicki Minaj long enough, he could at least pretend that was possible. Anything more indie or heartfelt than that would start reminding him of the person he needed to forget…
After a few songs, he was able to start composing himself. His chest still burned, his ass still ached with every movement in a way that wouldn’t let him forget what had happened that afternoon—but he could cover it up. Nobody would have to see him like this. There might not be a cure for his hurt, but that didn’t mean he had to share it with people.
He was never more thankful for his ability to cover his emotions than in that moment, because that was when his father decided to knock loudly on his window, nearly giving him a heart attack.
“What are you doing here?” Kurt asked, rolling down the window so they could talk.
“Get out, you’re not driving,” Burt commanded, pointing to the passenger side seat.
Kurt looked around confused, not even sure where he’d come from. That was when he noticed Finn in his dad’s truck behind them. He pulled out and waved to both of them, leaving them to talk alone.
“Dad?” Kurt asked again when his father opened the door.
“Over, kiddo,” Burt said, this time more gently, but still leaving no room for argument.
Kurt crawled over the center console, still confused as to what was happening. How had his dad even known where he was?
His dad climbed into the car and turned on the engine, cranking the heat up all the way and flipping all the vents to face Kurt, who hadn’t realized until that moment how badly he was shivering.
“Blaine told me to come and find you,” he explained, giving Kurt a sympathetic look. Kurt couldn’t help but snort, of course he had. Blaine couldn’t just leave him alone, could he?
“Want to tell me what’s going on?” Burt asked.
“Not really,” Kurt said, picking up his phone and pretending to text somebody so that he wouldn’t have to look at his dad.
“Listen to me,” he dad said, yanking the phone out of his hands and grabbing Kurt’s chin to make him look at him. “I know you two got in a fight or something. It probably seems like the end of the world and something your old man couldn’t possibly understand, right?”
Kurt rolled his eyes, but didn’t answer. It wasn’t that he didn’t think his dad would understand, it was that he didn’t want to have to tell him.
“Whatever it is that has you so upset, I’m sure you two will work it out,” he said gently. “That boy looks at you like you like you’re holding the last bottle of water after forty days in the desert.”
“We’re not going to work it out, Dad,” Kurt said bitterly.
His dad didn’t say anything; he just looked at him and waited for him to continue. Kurt could tell that he wasn’t going to be allowed out of this one, so he sucked in a deep breath and decided to explain. Well, explain most of it, there were certain things, like his virginity, that he figured his father never needed to know.
“There are some guys at school that are trying to mess with Blaine,” Kurt explained, staring out the window, trying to turn his emotions off. He’d cried over this enough. “They told him since they couldn’t get to him; they were going to start harassing me instead since it was obvious Blaine liked me.”
His dad sucked in a breath, but didn’t interrupt, otherwise.
“Last night, those guys showed up to the party and didn’t like the fact that two boys were there together,” Kurt explained, knowing this would be the part of the story that would make his dad loose his cool. “Nothing happened to me. I got thrown around a bit but I’m perfectly fine… Blaine fought them off. He roughed one of them up pretty bad to scare them off. One day Blaine’s happy to be with me and doesn’t care who knows it, the next he’s pretending like he doesn’t care about me and is pushing me away.”
“He’s just trying to keep you safe, kiddo,” Burt explained, though Kurt could see he didn’t sound terribly upset over the whole thing.
“You think Blaine was right to break it off,” Kurt said, horrified that his own father was happy about this. His dad thought Blaine was right to end it.
“He’s scared, Kurt,” his dad said in that voice he used when he thought Kurt was being overdramatic. “He has a right to be, we don’t exactly live in San Francisco here.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Kurt asked, thinking back to the conversation they’d had only a few days ago. His father knew how much he’d been harassed for being gay. He knew about the death threats, the locker slams and the slushies.
“I’m not saying I don’t want you to be happy,” he explained, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was getting a headache. “I do. But at what cost Kurt? You already told me you’re having trouble at school and that was before you and Blaine even started dating or whatever you kids are calling it. Maybe Blaine’s doing the right thing.”
“By lying to me and pretending like none of it matters?” Kurt asked, not believing a word he was hearing. “Like I somehow made this all up in my head? No! How can you take his side on this? He’s acting like he doesn’t even care about me. Maybe he doesn’t care about me!”
“That boy called me up crying, asking me to come and find you because he was worried you wouldn’t make it home safe,” Burt snapped at him. “Shit, how long were you even sitting out here in the cold without the heat on? Your lips were blue!”
He rarely saw his dad lose his cool and he couldn’t quite tell why he was losing it now. He didn’t know if he was losing his patience with him, or if it was the general frustration of not being able to help when Kurt was constantly being hit with so much hate in the world.
“I’m not taking his side,” Burt said, quieter after a calming breath. “I’m just saying, he’s a kid, too. This is probably just as overwhelming for him as it is for you.”
“I’m sure,” Kurt said bitterly.
“He’ll come around,” he said, patting Kurt’s shoulder.
“You wouldn’t be on his side if you knew that he slept with me this afternoon,” Kurt said, unable to stop the bitter remark from coming out of his mouth. “Perfect Blaine Anderson slept with me knowing full well that he was going to break it off no matter what.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, all the anger he had at his dad faded and all he was left with was the pain and sorrow. He’d lost Blaine. The image he’d had of Blaine in his mind, perfect and sweet was gone and now he got to see his dad lose that image of Blaine, too. Burt looked stunned.
Kurt could understand why, it was one thing to comfort your son over a fight with his not-a-boyfriend. It was a completely different thing to hear he’d just had sex. Kurt didn’t quite know how it had ended up like this either. How had Kurt let it get this far, how had Blaine? Maybe his dad was right, they were both kids. They didn’t understand the ramifications of sex and they certainly shouldn’t have been having it without making sure they were more solid. He should have waited. He should have been with Blaine for months before he even considered doing more than kissing.
He started crying and was pulled into his dad’s arms. “Okay. Okay,” Burt repeated, running his fingers through Kurt’s hair. “No more Blaine. Got it. It’s okay.”
Kurt continued to cry as he began to picture his life without Blaine. He hadn’t been Kurt’s friend for long, but his impact would be strong enough to make this pain last a long time.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” Burt reassured him. Kurt wasn’t sure how that could be true. He was pretty sure nothing would ever be okay again.