Beta: Laura aka- gottriplets <3
Warnings: First time sex, blow jobs, exhibitionism, sexting, gay sex all around- the usual :)
Summary: Kurt’s spent his entire life being pushed around and ignored. He’s never had a single friend until he met Blaine Anderson, a swimmer for the National Team and McKinley’s Golden Boy. When the boys fall for each other, Kurt has to learn the hard way that there are some things even love can’t fix—like the fact that his step-brother and boyfriend are mortal enemies. Will Blaine be willing to give up everything to be with Kurt or will they crumble under the pressure to become what everyone else is trying to turn them into?
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: Wow, thank you to everyone for all the wonderful support you’ve been showing this fic. It’s been overwhelming and wonderful and I just want you to know I’ve appreciated every last like and comment :)
Blaine’s iPod was currently blasting “Make Me Wanna Die” by The Pretty Reckless on repeat because it was the only song he could find that had lyrics he could relate to while not being remotely pretty. He didn’t want a beautiful piano. He didn’t deserve a soft, melodic voice. He deserved something much harsher after what he’d done to Kurt.
It’s why the record player Kurt had fixed for him had been shoved back into his closet. He shouldn’t get to have beautiful things. Not after what he’d done. What he had to do. It wasn’t like he wanted this, but what was he supposed to do? Put them both in danger just so they could be together? That might sound romantic in theory or some stupid Twilight novel, but in reality it wasn’t even remotely romantic. It was selfish and wrong.
Taylor Momsen might be a lot of things that Blaine rolled his eyes at when she walked around in bras and started her own band, but she got one thing right—having everything only really mattered until somebody came along and showed you that everything wasn’t worth a damn thing. Kurt was perfect and innocent and Blaine wasn’t any of those things. He would only ruin Kurt in the long run. This was for the best.
That didn’t mean he liked it. That didn’t mean ending it and lying about not wanting Kurt in that way hadn’t made him want to die.
“What the fuck, dude,” Puck said, coming into the room to see him laying in his bed, covers still completely covering his head. “You haven’t picked up your phone since the party. You completely missed swim practice this morning and currently we’re both missing first period.”
“Go away,” he said, not even lifting his head to look at his friend. It took too much effort.
“Please tell me you aren’t crying over some guy,” Puck said, turning off his music so they wouldn’t have to shout at each other.
“If you laugh at me, I’ll punch you in the balls,” Blaine threatened, still not leaving his cocoon of blankets. “I never once said anything when you cried over Quinn last year.”
Blaine felt the bed shift and a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind. He pulled the covers down so he could see what was happening and fought back a laugh as he watched Puck try and spoon him uncomfortably.
“What are you doing?” Blaine asked, cracking the smallest of smiles, the first he’d smiled since the dreadful New Year’s Eve party.
“Isn’t this what your people do when you’re upset?” Puck asked. “Was I supposed to bring ice cream or something? A Cher CD?”
“Puck…” Blaine trailed off giving him a look that meant he was being unintentionally offensive again.
“Right, sorry,” Puck apologized, letting him go and moving to get out of bed. “I can go. I just thought—”
“No,” Blaine said quickly before he could take it back. “It’s okay. I don’t like feeling alone.”
“Aww, come ‘ere my little gay cupcake,” Puck laughed, crawling back into bed with Blaine.
“Fuck you,” Blaine said, but rolled over to cuddle up to Puck’s side.
Puck didn’t complain when Blaine used his shoulder as a pillow. Instead, he wrapped one arm around Blaine’s shoulder and grabbed the remote with the other like this was any other day. Blaine was never so grateful for a friend like Puck in his life. While he wasn’t always the most tactful guy in the world, he was sensitive enough to go out of his comfort zone to make Blaine feel better. He would never try and force Blaine to talk about things, he would just be there. He’d listen to him if he needed; knowing Blaine would probably never tell him what was wrong.
“Guess this means we’re skipping the first day back at school?” Puck asked, not sounding terribly concerned about his classes. Puck always skipped class, it was Blaine that usually dragged him to school to make sure he didn’t fail out and have to be benched.
“I’m sure I’ll learn more from a marathon of Judge Judy than I’ll learn from any teacher at McKinley,” Blaine said bitterly.
“So it’s gonna be one of those days, huh Anderson?” Puck laughed. “Should we go get tattoos and pierce our bodies? Wanna post sexy pictures on the internet to make Daddy notice us?”
Blaine punched him in the stomach as he continued to laugh at him. This was how Puck was. He wasn’t the best communicator in the world and pretty much always managed to say the wrong thing, but he was there when it mattered. He was always there in the ways that counted, which is why he was one of Blaine’s best friends.
He wasn’t Kurt though… he’d never be able to be there for him in the ways that Kurt could because Kurt just understood him. Blaine had thrown all that away though. He’d given up the one good thing he’d had because of the boys at school. He was too weak to protect the both of them so he’d had to lose the most perfect thing he’d ever had.
Shit, he needed to get drunk and fast so he could stop feeling like this.
“If we left now, we could grab a late breakfast somewhere and still be in Chicago by happy hour,” Blaine mused, feeling the all too familiar need to get out of town. The school was bound to call his parents when he didn’t show up for class and he really wasn’t in the mood to face his father when he found out Blaine had missed practice.
“Road trip on a Monday?” Puck asked, not sounding sold. “It sounds lame. Nobody will even be out.”
“Boystown?” he suggested, hopefully. It was going to be a lot to ask his friend to drive all the way to Chicago with him on a school day, but he knew of all his friends, Puck would take the least convincing. “There’s a few clubs that don’t check IDs too closely and don’t charge cover on Mondays.”
“So you’ll stop crying like a little bitch if I take you to a gay bar?” Puck asked sounding completely unsympathetic but Blaine knew better. He could see the curious glint in Puck’s eyes he was hiding behind a smirk.
“Don’t act like you don’t clean up at gay bars, too,” Blaine said with a smile of his own, thinking back to the one and only time he’d brought Puck to Scandals and he’d left with the only three women in the bar. “All those older women there supporting their gay friends.”
“Why not go to Scandals? Or drive up to OSU?” He questioned, but Blaine could tell he’d already decided to make the trip to Illinois.
Blaine was happy. He could use another boys lips on his own to help wash away the feeling of Kurt’s perfect ones. If Kurt so happened to find out and realized Blaine wasn’t the guy for him? All the better. Blaine was bad news, he might as well play the part and help Kurt get over him quicker.
“Because I don’t want to see the same boys I’ve been running into for the last two years,” Blaine explained with a roll of his eyes, already mentally going through his closet for something appropriate to wear. This wasn’t Scandals, this was Boystown. He was going to need to pull out all the stops. If only Kurt didn’t still have his red pants…
“I’m down,” Puck said with a shrug. “Just trying to figure out where your head’s at? Two days ago you were going on and on about love—”
“I never said I loved him,” he cut in but Puck ignored him and kept talking.
“Skipping school and going to a club five hours away isn’t usually your scene.”
“Why don’t you just worry about your head and get out of mine?” Blaine snapped. Puck never pressured him to talk before and he hoped he wasn’t going to start now. He hadn’t told him yet what had happened at Mike’s New Year’s party with Jackson and the guys. That would lead to questions about how Kurt had handled it and he wasn’t ready to talk about that yet.
“Fine,” he said, throwing his hands up in surrender. “You know coach is gonna kill us right?”
“What’s she gonna do, bench us?” he asked with a snort, knowing it would never happen. Even if Coach Roz wanted to bench him, his father would never let that happen. “The worst we’ll get is extra laps. I can take it. Can you?”
“I can take it,” Puck said defensively.
“Are you sure you’re not too pussy to handle it?” Blaine said, again, mentally cringing at his crude language but knowing that was how boys talked. He’d already made Puck do so many things he wasn’t comfortable with this morning, the least he could do was meet him halfway with an overly-masculine pissing contest.
“Fuck you,” he spat out with a playful shove. “I can bench twice as much as you.”
“Maybe, but you’ll never beat me in the lanes,” Blaine teased.
“Somebody’s feeling better,” Puck said, climbing out of bed and pulling Blaine up with him.
“Chicago men… glorious Chicago men,” Blaine said dreamily as Puck shoved him into his bathroom to shower.
“So this means you’re over Hummel then?” he asked.
“Don’t talk about him,” Blaine said, suddenly not feeling so excited.
It wasn’t that he’d forgotten about Kurt or the giant pain in his heart, it was just that, for a moment, he remembered what it was like before Kurt. Before everything got so complicated. Sex had just been sex and boys were something to flirt with and share drinks with, they weren’t to fall in love with. Boys didn’t fall in love with people like Blaine.
“Okay…” Puck trailed off with a laugh as he stood in the bathroom doorway, not even caring that Blaine was waiting for him to leave so that he could shower. Puck didn’t bother himself with modesty so why should anyone else. “So that’s what this is about then? Him? I figured it had to be, that or some daddy issue.”
“Drop it,” he said, feeling uncomfortable.
“Wow,” Puck said sarcastically as he crossed his arms. Blaine could tell he wasn’t impressed.
“Stop,” he said in a warning tone. He didn’t understand why Puck was pushing him. Why today?
“I didn’t realize he had it in him,” Puck mused.
“Shut your mouth,” he begged, pushing Puck out of the room with both hands. Puck didn’t fight back, but he didn’t stop talking either.
“So he dumped you?”
“It’s complicated. Can you just go back to being that friend that doesn’t ask questions and gets drunk with me instead?” Blaine asked, willing his friend to stop talking about Kurt. Blaine couldn’t handle it if he had to explain what had happened to somebody else.
“Fine,” Puck said, throwing his hands up in surrender. “You’ll spill your secrets after a few tequila shots anyway. You always do.”
Several hours later, after Blaine finally showered and packed a bag for the night, after stopping by Puck’s house for his fake ID, after breakfast at a shitty diner, after four and a half hours in the car, after pizza at the Original Uno’s, the boys found themselves standing outside of Sidetrack, a gay bar Blaine has been to only once before with some college boy he barely remembers now. It had been one of Blaine’s first nights out after transferring to McKinley. The swim team boys had convinced him to go to a party at Ohio State which quickly turned into a spur of the moment road trip to Chicago once the boy he’d been dancing with learned Blaine had never been to a gay bar and wanted his first experience to be done right. That had been the first night Blaine had ever really let lose. He’d gotten drunk for the first time and he’d fooled around with a boy for the first time.
All in all it started something in Blaine that hadn’t really stopped once it started—masking fear and pain with liquid courage. He noticed that people seemed to care less when they were drunk and he was more confident with a drink in his hand. So he went to parties more and continued to drink. He fooled around with boys he barely knew hoping that he could give somebody a reason to stay.
That stopped when he met Kurt; paused temporarily, at least. Kurt reminded him that he could be worthy of love and respect. Blaine didn’t want that tonight though. He just wanted to forget. So with a booze-heavy slushie in his hand, he prayed for the same kind of magic of that first night to make him forget.
“I cannot believe you ate an entire Chicago style pizza by yourself, it’s disgusting,” Blaine said as they waited in line for their IDs to be checked.
“I’m sexy,” Puck said, nodding to a man in his forties checking him out.
Blaine rolled his eyes at the man, wanting to tell him that Puck was straight but refrained. Instead he responded with, “Nobody is going to think you’re sexy now that all that pepperoni is going to go straight to your ass.”
“Please, that will only make my ass more desirable, I know you weren’t able to keep your hands off of it,” he teased.
“One night, one night and you’ll never let me live it down will you?” Blaine mumbled.
“You’re just jealous because I’ve been checked out by three different guys and you haven’t,” Puck said, pushing him up in line when it started moving and Blaine hadn’t noticed.
“That’s because they think we are on a date and you’re terrifying enough that they don’t want to risk it. I’m still hotter than you,” Blaine said.
“We’ll see. I bet I can get more numbers that you can,” he challenged him.
“It’s moments like this that make me question your sexuality,” Blaine said as the approached the front of the line and handed their fake IDs over.
Once inside, it hadn’t taken him long to find an attractive twenty-something man looking to buy him a drink. It had taken an even shorter amount of time for Puck to locate one of only four women in the bar and buy her a drink. It had taken three drinks and six songs, however, for Blaine’s fake smile to become a real one. An alcohol-induced, yet genuine, smile.
The bar was having its famous Show Tunes Monday. Every screen in the place was showing videos of classics like Madonna singing Don’t Cry for Me Argentina, Patti LuPone’s I Dreamed A Dream, and Beyonce and the rest of the Dreamgirls singing the title track Dreamgirls. It was Broadway heaven with every gay man in the bar belting out the lyrics, groups of drunken men doing choreography, and everyone laughing and having fun. It was a nice place to be, somewhere Blaine could feel at home, even if Puck was judging him slightly for knowing all the words to a song from Wicked.
It was easy to forget about McKinley, his dad, and even everything that had happened when they’d lived in Westerville, when all around him were grown men being open and honest about who they were and loving each other because of it. He didn’t have to be scared here. He didn’t have to be alone.
He could be with Kurt here.
“My gay-card is gonna need to be revoked, I don’t know this one,” one of the older gentlemen beside them said as a familiar tune started playing.
Blaine was distracted from his sudden downward thoughts as Shane, the twenty-something man he’d been drinking with, turned to him and smiled, beginning to sing ‘What You Want’. He started laughing at the surprised and curious glances they got from all the older men around them.
“Legally Blonde?” Blaine asked giving them an amused look. “You guys are probably too old for this one.”
Then Blaine surprised himself, letting himself be dragged into a corner by the older men where there was enough space for Shane and him to perform the song. He let himself let loose and start to sing the song, belt the song really. He was shocked with how comfortable he was with all eyes on him when he danced and performed the song. While he knew he wasn’t anywhere on Laura Bell Bundy’s level, he could admit he wasn’t horrible. If the twenty or so eyes and camera phones on them were any indication, the crowd thought so as well and more and more people were turning around to watch them.
The song was a little silly and he couldn’t help but laugh as a few more younger men came over to join them in their performance. It was fun. He was actually enjoying himself. Maybe Kurt had been right all along, he was meant to perform.
It was a long song, eight and a half minutes to be exact, and when it finally ended to a loud round of applause they were all out of breath but laughing. Shane went off in search of another drink and promised to be back soon.
“Well that was the gayest thing I’ve ever seen you do and I’ve seen you give another man a blow job before,” Puck teased, handing him another beer. “I was beginning to question your sexuality, but now I know you’re as gay as a unicorn riding a man jumping over a rainbow. I’m not worried anymore.”
“Scared I’d steal all the women from you?” Blaine asked, trying to sound casual.
Inside he was freaking out and so completely confused. He’d been sure that Puck would change his mind about Blaine the second he realized he wasn’t just a manly jock that swore, throw a punch and happened to kiss boys. He was sure the second Puck realized he liked show tunes and Vogue, that he was gay-gay he would be freaked out. That didn’t seem to be the case.
“Fuck,” Blaine said, suddenly realizing just how epically he’d messed up with Kurt. “Shit, mother fucking shit!” he yelled.
Blaine didn’t bother to stay and answer Puck’s questions about what was wrong. He was pulling his phone out of his pocket and heading towards the bathrooms where it was quieter, needing to call Kurt. Needing to admit his mistake and beg his friend to forgive him. If Puck could accept Blaine as he was, then everyone else could, too. If he could get enough people behind him, then what could a few of Finn’s lackeys really do to them?
“Please pick up,” Blaine begged as the phone continued to ring. He knew it was late. It was almost 1AM and Kurt was probably sleeping, but he needed to talk to him. He needed to fix this immediately.
“You’ve reached Kurt Hummel, I’m unavailable right now…”
Blaine cursed as Kurt’s inbox message played out. He would have to settle for a message. Kurt would listen to it when he woke up. That was the best that he could hope for at the moment since he was all the way in Chicago and couldn’t exactly show up at the Hummel-Hudson house this late anyway.
“Kurt, it’s Blaine. I know you’re mad at me and you should be. I’m a jerk, an epic jerk and you should hate me. I hate me,” Blaine drunkenly rambled into the phone. “But I’m sorry. You were right, I’m scared. I’m so fucking scared, but I don’t have to be. We can be together and you can help me be brave and I’ll just beat up Jackson anytime he tries to hurt you and it will be alright. We’ll be fine. We can be together because I think I’m really starting to fall—”
Blaine had been about to say he was falling in love with Kurt when a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind.
“Hey baby, that your boyfriend,” Shane said close enough that Blaine knew it would be heard on Kurt’s message. He’d have to delete it now and start over.
“Yes,” Blaine said sharply, pulling out of Shane’s arms. Arms that had been so welcome a few minutes ago, but now just felt dirty around him. He was sick of being used like a sex toy to older men. While it used to be fun, it was just degrading now that he knew it could be so much better. It was so much better; with Kurt it was better.
Shane ripped the phone out of his hands with a leering smile Blaine was pretty sure was supposed to be cute.
“So sorry, love,” Shane said into the phone, causing Blaine to panic. Whatever was about to happen was going to be bad. “I’m about to give your boyfriend here, who I’ve been dancing with all night, a blow job. You really should know better than to leave a cute ass like that unattended.”
Blaine’s eyes widened in horror and his jaw dropped as he watched Shane hang up, effectively taking away Blaine’s option of deleting the message.
“What the hell!” Blaine yelled, yanking his phone out of Shane’s hands and staring down at the words Call Ended, willing them to disappear so he could delete the message.
“Baby, you know if he was really that great of a boyfriend you wouldn’t have spent the entire night laughing and enjoying my company,” Shane said with a confident shrug. “I did you a favor. Now I’m going to do you another one.”
He pushed Blaine backwards until his back hit the wall and started running his hands up and down Blaine’s sides in a predatory manner.
“You didn’t do me a favor,” Blaine argued, pushing him away.
“You can’t just come to a place like this and flirt with another man when you have a boyfriend then get upset,” Shane said, growing angry. Blaine felt his heartbeat quicken and hoped he wouldn’t have to punch this guy out in his drunken state. He could do it, but he didn’t want to risk getting arrested while underage, drunk and in a club.
“We’re all adults here,” Shane said, reminding Blaine that he had no idea just how young he was. “You can’t have a man buy you a drink then not return the favor.”
“Fine,” Blaine said, uncrossing his arms and fisting his hands, preparing himself for a fight. “I’ll pay you back for the drinks. But let’s not pretend like you did me any favors here.”
Blaine feels another set of hands move around his waist and he’s about to punch the guy because seriously, why did everyone think they could get a free pass with him tonight, but he calmed down when he heard the familiar voice.
“I think it’s time you left me and my boyfriend alone,” Puck said, nuzzling into Blaine’s neck to further emphasize the boyfriend part.
“This is your boyfriend?” Shane asked, outraged. “He’s watched me dance with you all night!’
“What can I saw, I’m a kinky mother fucker that gets off on it,” Puck said with a laugh. “But I’m the only one that gets to touch him like that, so I suggest you run along.”
“Fucking tease,” Shane called out as he stormed off, leaving the two of them alone.
“Thanks,” Blaine said, moving out of Puck’s arms to turn around and look at him.
“Don’t mention it,” Puck said. “Seriously, don’t.”
“Ready to get out of here?” Blaine asked, eyeing the back door located at the end of the hallway.
Puck nodded and they both headed out, not bothering to look back. Once they were outside, Puck looked over at him and smiled before throwing his arms around Blaine’s shoulders.
“Several guys grabbed my ass and told me I was hot,” Puck said with a knowing look. Blaine could tell he was doing his best to distract Blaine away from what had just happened. “You can stop pretending I’m not ever gay man’s dream.”
“Whatever you say there Puckerman,” Blaine said, grateful that Puck wasn’t going to talk about what he’d seen.
“Just keep your hands to yourself tonight,” Puck teased. “I know how cuddly you get when you’re drunk and I don’t need to wake up tomorrow to your morning wood when you fantasize about me.”
“Then I guess you should have sprung for two beds.”