[FIC] Carry Your Shame: Blaine Interlude (21.5/25)

Rating: NC-17

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

Part 1//Part 2//Part 3//(Blaine interlude)//Part 4//Part 5//Part 6//Part 7//Part 8//Part 9//(Blaine Interlude 2)//Chapter 10//Chapter 11//Part 12//Part 13//(Blaine Interlude 3)//Part 14//Part 15//Part 16//Part 17//(Blaine Interlude 4)//Part 18//Part 19//Part 20//Part 21

Carry Your Shame Playlist (organized by chapter)

Art for this fic (by the lovely Lokicorey) can be found here!

*Side note- anyone looking to track this, it will always be tagged as “Fic: Carry Your Shame”


Blaine should have been at the pool that afternoon. He was supposed to drive out to Dublin today to swim with his team in preparation for the Michigan Grand Prix in two weeks. He’d lost his sponsors and while his dad had told him not to worry about that because money wasn’t an issue for them, it still had taken most of his confidence away. He had lost the support of the swimming community and that hurt because it was one of the few places where he’d never messed up. It was one of his safe places, even with his dad constantly down his back to get better and practice longer. Even the hour he’d spent in the pool by himself that morning hadn’t been enough to clear his mind like it usually did. 

He had messed up. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling for him. He was rather used to being a disappointment by this point. This time though, he’d messed up worse than usual. It wasn’t enough that he had kids at school judging him. Now his name was being tossed around as a joke on all of the big swimming message boards. Mothers were talking about what a bad role model he’d turned out to be for their kids.

That wasn’t what had him unwilling to ever leave his bed again though. No, the final blow had come that morning when Kurt had accused him of posting the video himself…as if he’d choose for any of this to happen to him. 

Maybe Blaine had been wrong to place all of his faith in Kurt. Love wasn’t supposed to hurt and all they ever seemed to do was hurt each other. Love was supposed to give, not take away, and right now it seemed like everything had been taken away from him. He didn’t know if his father would ever be able to look him in the eye again after this. 

What if his father didn’t love him anymore?

Blaine lay curled up on his bed, refusing to move for anything. It had been a long day that started with his dad personally coaching an intense morning workout that got interrupted by Kurt. Things had only gone downhill from there. The kids at school were vicious about the video and wouldn’t let up. Most of his classmates didn’t even have the decency to talk about him behind his back like normal people would. 

No, instead they followed him around asking invasive questions about his sex life. Jacob Ben Israel had shoved a camera in his face and demanded an exclusive interview until Puck had thrown his camera against a locker and almost gotten suspended. He’d gotten called multiple names by the other kids at school. The school had been forced to block all e-mail providers and social media websites to stop the video from spreading. He was being burned at the stake for this and that was just at school. 

His dad had gotten a phone call yesterday from a representative of the National Team informing him about the video leaking online. His dad had shown up at school and reamed Blaine out in the hallway for all of his classmates inside to overhear.  Any and all communication devices were taken away from him. His dad had said he didn’t want Blaine doing anything stupid like try to retaliate. He knew how explosive Blaine’s anger could be when he was pushed too far. 

Slowly but surely, each of his sponsors for the summer called his dad that night and politely told his father that they didn’t feel comfortable putting their money behind Blaine when this was turning into such a big scandal for the swimming community. By that morning, his dad had confessed that he wasn’t going to give Blaine his phone back in fear that he would let the things getting said about him mess with his mind when he had his first international competition of the season to prepare for. 

It was too late for that. His mind was already a jumbled mess. The stupidest thing he’d ever done was think that he could just ignore Evan and the smarmy bastard would go away. He’d said he was going to ruin Blaine’s life and he’d succeeded. He’d texted him Wednesday morning and told him not to go to the concert with Kurt or he’d regret it. 

Blaine had ignored his threat. He’d gone with Kurt anyway and even felt smug when they’d hooked up. He’d thought all of their problems were over. Their problems had only just started and he really had nobody to blame but himself. He thought he could be it for Kurt, but how could that be possible if Kurt couldn’t even believe that he wouldn’t post their sex tape for the entire world to see? 

“I’m not going to pretend that I’m proud of the choices you’ve made,” his aunt had said to him in Tagalog because English always seemed to fail her whenever she was emotional. He’d called her up on their home phone, a crying mess while his parents argued about him downstairs. 

“But you’re worth more than the sum of your mistakes and you can’t let them define you,” she’d said tearfully. “It’s not how far we fall; it’s how hard we work to pick ourselves back up that matters. You’re capable of getting through this so long as you don’t forget how much you matter, Dayong. You can’t stop fighting, not now.” 

Picking himself back up wasn’t easy. Not this time around. Things were bad this time. He’d felt a depression coming on for months — ever since he’d messed things up with Kurt — but this was going to be the thing to push him over the ledge. He was more than just upset. He was utterly and completely devastated and he didn’t even have Kurt to share this with because Kurt had accused him of causing this. Kurt, the only one that could relate to him in this had turned on him, too. 

At least tomorrow was a Saturday and Blaine wouldn’t be forced to face anybody from school. He could slip out to the gym earlier than usual so that he would have the pool all to himself. He could swim until his muscles felt like falling off and see if he couldn’t remember how to use that burn to relieve this overwhelming anxiety because he didn’t want to think about what he’d resort to if he didn’t have that as an outlet anymore. 

He cried into his pillow that had been soaked with his tears since last night when he’d finally lost all strength to hold it together. He’d been breaking down at random intervals ever since. 

Yeah, some man he’d turned out to be. His father was probably more mortified of his constant tears than of the tape itself. 

He barely even heard the doorbell, but whoever it had been, his father let them in. He assumed it was Puck because he’d been calling the house ever since school had let out today and Blaine had just told his mom to ignore them. He was a bit surprised to hear a very familiar gasp and a faint whisper of ‘Oh Blaine’ before Kurt was tentatively climbing into bed with him. Blaine closed his eyes tightly as Kurt tenderly brushed an errant curl off of his forehead.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Kurt said and Blaine could hear him choking back his own tears but he refused to open his eyes. It was all too much and he honestly didn’t know what he was supposed to say about any of it. He wanted, more than anything, to let Kurt comfort him and make everything disappear in a way that only Kurt could. However, he couldn’t get rid of the sinking feeling that Kurt hadn’t trusted him. 

Blaine bit his lip hard and shook his head, trying to convey how much he desperately needed to not talk about this right now. 

He wanted to tell Kurt that it was okay. He wanted to pretend that he could ignore the pain in his chest and just let Kurt hold him because Blaine had broken Kurt’s heart and here Kurt was willing to let it all go. Blaine had messed up and maybe now that Kurt had too they could finally get past all the blaming. 

He just couldn’t, though. His aunt’s words were echoing in his mind and he just kept thinking that though she was biased, she wasn’t wrong. Didn’t he matter, too? Wasn’t he worthy of being trusted? Of being loved? Kurt hadn’t done that. He’d picked Evan, of all people, over him. 

“Please look at me,” Kurt pleaded. 

Blaine wanted to be stubborn. He wanted to dig his heels in and refuse Kurt’s request because somehow acting childish about this whole thing seemed easier than confronting it head-on, but he couldn’t deny Kurt when his hand was gentle on his cheek and turning his face until their eyes met. 

Blaine could see the guilt written all over his face and he knew that Kurt knew the truth. He wasn’t sure who had convinced him, since obviously his own words hadn’t been able to, but Kurt believed him now. He knew that Blaine was a victim in this the same as him. The problem was — Blaine didn’t know if that changed anything. 

“I feel like I’m drowning,” he found himself confessing, unsure of where it had come from since he hadn’t yet decided if he trusted Kurt anymore. 

“You’re an Olympic-bound swimmer,” Kurt said with a sad smile. “You couldn’t drown even if you wanted to.” 

“They’ll never let me into the Olympics now,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’ve lost all of my sponsors and they are debating taking me off the National Team.” 

“This has nothing to do with your ability to swim,” Kurt said, enraged on his behalf. “You earned your spot on that team with your talent. Who cares what you do in your free time?” 

“The National Team relies pretty heavily on its fans for funding. They don’t think they can handle the scandal,” he explained bitterly. “It’s all over. All that work for nothing.” 

“Michael Phelps got to keep going after that pot incident,” Kurt argued. “Wasn’t that worse than this?” 

“He’s the most decorated Olympian of all time,” he groaned, throwing his head back into his pillows and pulling the covers up over his head. “Do I look like I have the kind of fame that excuses any of this?” 

“We’ll fix this,” Kurt promised him, rubbing his arm comfortingly until Blaine shoved it off angrily. 

“There is no fixing this!” he yelled. “It’s over.” 

“I’m so, so sorry,” Kurt said. “I don’t know what else to say but that.” 

“I can’t talk about this,” he said, feeling himself start to hyperventilate. Kurt nodded and got up to pull out his record player. 

“Please don’t,” Blaine pleaded with him when he realized what he was doing. He couldn’t handle this, not now. “I can’t… I just… I don’t want to feel anything. Not right now. I can’t. I just… please, please don’t,” he continued to ramble until Kurt stopped what he was doing and climbed back into bed with him and pulled Blaine into his arms. 

“Shhh,” he whispered into his ear. “It’s okay. I understand. Shhh.” 

He was grateful that Kurt didn’t push him for an explanation because it had to be weird to see Blaine outright refuse to listen to music when it had always been his outlet. He just couldn’t explain it, though. Music was something he felt deep down into his soul and he didn’t think he could handle feeling anything at the moment without dissolving into nothing. 

Kurt didn’t say anything, for which Blaine was grateful. Instead, Kurt held him from behind, pulling him in close enough to bruise and rubbing soothing circles into his side as Blaine tried to get his breathing under control. All day he’d felt the oncoming of a panic attack. He hadn’t had one since before he’d come to McKinley. The last time he’d broken down like this, he’d ended up sobbing to his father and begging to let him transfer schools. 

He eventually got his breathing back under control. That was when he noticed that Kurt was tracing words into his skin with his finger tips. He was leaving faint kisses on the back of his neck, cheek, and head. After some time, he began whispering the words into his skin in a way that should have been sexual, but it wasn’t. It was reverent. It was special. 

It was healing, though Blaine wasn’t quite ready to admit that aloud yet.  

That was when he connected the previously meaningless string of words-bit was a song. They weren’t just words of comfort, they were lyrics and Blaine could feel them in his veins as they were breathed into the bare skin of his neck. Tears burned at his eyes as the song sent a new fire through his body. 

Maybe all didn’t have to be lost as he’d previously thought… but there was still something holding him back from completely forgiving Kurt. As Kurt had once told him, actions spoke louder than words and Blaine needed to know that Kurt was serious about making this work for them. He had too many other things on his mind to even consider dating at the moment and if they wanted to work, Kurt was going to have to wait. 

Kurt was going to have to understand. He didn’t even know if Kurt was still dating Evan or if they’d finally broken up. He needed some space away from sex and relationships to figure out who he was again. He’d been lost for awhile and he was only just starting to feel like himself again when that video had come out. He was tired. So fucking tired of living his life for other people only to be harassed anytime he tried to do something for himself and he just needed Kurt to understand that. 

“Everybody wanna give their selves away, but I’m still afraid,” Kurt whispered into his ear and Blaine instantly recognized the song as Rob Thomas. It wasn’t Kurt’s favorite song, but it was one of Blaine’s. Kurt wasn’t singing this for himself; he was singing it for him. He was pushing his own pain aside to help Blaine deal with the immense feeling of loss he was being suffocated by. 

He traced the lyrics into Blaine’s skin as he silently mouthed them into Blaine’s neck, only speaking up when the words were especially poignant.

“Ah honey, we’ll be okay,” he sang softly, his voice cracking on the last line. 

Blaine was facing away from the door, so he couldn’t be sure of the exact moment that his father had stumbled upon the two of them, wrapped up in each other’s arms while Kurt did his best to take control of a situation he barely had a handle on himself. 

“The world can be so cruel, but I will sing for you, this cradlesong.” 

Kurt kept pausing between lyrics to tell Blaine that he was beautiful and perfect and that everything would be okay, so Blaine had no idea how long the song had ended up lasting for or how long his father had sat watching the two of them. The only thing he knew for certain was that by the time Kurt reached the final verse, there was a dip in the bed and his father was sitting beside him, reaching out to hold onto his hand tightly. 

Blaine opened his eyes in surprise. His dad hadn’t even commented on the fact that Kurt was wrapped around him like an octopus. There was no grimace of disgust at Blaine being with another boy like there usually was anytime Blaine had been caught with a boy in his bed (and admittedly, that was more times than Blaine could ever be proud of). Instead, he placed his other hand on the top of Blaine’s head and scratched lightly in the way his mother used to do when he was little and had woken up from a nightmare. 

“Dad?” he asked with shaky breath. 

His father just shook his head and Blaine could see all of the emotion hidden behind his usually stern eyes. Even though his dad clearly didn’t know what to say given the fact that they’d never done anything like this before, Blaine could see the love in his eyes. It made him tremble and when he looked over his shoulder, he found Kurt sharing a meaningful look with his dad. 

That was when he felt, more than heard, the last verse of the song get whispered into his ears in Kurt’s beautiful voice. 

“No one said that we were victims honey,” Kurt sang, the word honey coming out as beautiful as a praise of hallelujah which was confusing coming from a boy that had previously been against any and all pet names. 

“No one said we had to keep the things we get. And there ain’t no regrets.” 

The song faded back into silence and Kurt nervously traced the rest of the song into his side as they both tried to figure out just what his father was doing there and when the other shoe was going to drop. 

When it finally did, it was in the most unexpected of ways. 

“The world can be so cruel, but I will sing for you this cradlesong,” his dad whispered the words, off-pitch and scratchy from a lack of practice but Blaine felt them as powerfully as he had ever felt any song before.

“I thought you hated me,” Blaine whispered as Kurt’s breath hitched and the grip on his waist became painful. 

“I could never hate you,” his dad said with tears in his eyes. “You’re my son.” 

Blaine felt himself choking on emotion again, but this time it wasn’t that he felt like he was dissolving into nothing, it felt like his heart was growing three times in size. He vaguely wondered if this was what the Grinch had felt like the first time he’d heard ‘Welcome Christmas’ from the Who’s down in Who-ville. Had his father just sung his own version of ‘Welcome Christmas’ to him?

“How do you know that song?” Blaine asked tentatively, unsure of what else to say. He never talked to his dad unless it was about swimming; this was all new to them. 

“You listen to a lot of the same songs on repeat,” his dad said. “I pay attention.” 

Blaine shook his head, barely believing it. His dad had never once given him any indication that he actually paid attention to his interests. Sure, he’d been quick to reward Blaine with new speakers for his car, the latest iPhone updates and a long collection of iTunes gift cards, but Blaine had figured he’d just done a quick Google search of what it was teenagers liked. He never imagined his dad might actually pay attention to the music he listened to in his room — not enough to know the lyrics. 

“Listen, I’m sorry,” his dad said, standing up and brushing his hands off on his dress pants before he walked towards the door. “You’re in good hands here. Take as long as you both need, I’ll have your mom bring some plates up for you. I just—” 

He paused by the door, unsure of how to finish his thought and Blaine had never seen him at a loss for words before. 

“We can fix this Blaine,” he explained carefully. “It’s broken, but it’s not destroyed. I think the real question is do you want to?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, wondering if his dad could possibly be asking him what he thought he was asking him. 

Was he giving Blaine the okay to quit swimming if he wanted to?  

“Your mother might have brought it to my attention that I’ve been pushing you a bit too hard. She wondered if you didn’t do this on purpose so that you’d have an excuse to quit. If I… If I made it seem like you had to do this, I’m sorry. You can quit right now if you want to. I only ever wanted what was best for you and when you started excelling at swimming I thought helping you get better was the best thing I could do to help you. It was the only way I knew how to be a good father. But you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to swim anymore.” 

“I want to,” Blaine confessed with tears shining in his eyes. Kurt remained silent next to him, but the fingers digging into his hips spoke volumes. He knew how big of a moment this was for him and his dad. 

“I love swimming. I just…” Blaine trailed off nervous to finish his thought. His dad had just given him so much and he didn’t want to shatter that by potentially starting a fight. 

“Say it,” he prodded, but his voice had lost the usual command and instead sounded compassionate. 

“Maybe you could give me some room to breathe,” he said cautiously. “If we can fix this, if we can get my sponsors back — I’ve got the passion for it still. The only reason I complain about it is because I feel like what I do is never good enough for you.” 

“It’s always good enough for me,” he said. “I’m sorry that I made you feel that way.” 

“I don’t want to quit,” Blaine said, unsure of how to read this conversation. 

“Okay,” his dad said, looking just as awkward as he felt. They both tentatively smiled at each other before Mr. Anderson left the bedroom and closed the door behind him. 

“Blaine,” Kurt whispered as soon as the door was closed. 

“Don’t,” he said, sitting up as he began pacing the room. 

“I don’t understand,” Kurt said, watching him with careful eyes. “I thought you’d be happy. Isn’t that what you always wanted? His approval?” 

“Yeah, it is,” he said, unable to express what it was that had him still itching inside. He felt wrong, still. He couldn’t put his finger on it. 

“You’re angry,” Kurt said, standing up to join Blaine by his desk. He picked up Blaine’s trembling hands and held them in his own. “You have every right to be. None of this was fair and a few kind words from me or your father isn’t going to change that — no matter how much his understanding might mean. It’s okay to still be upset.” 

“I just hate that stupid, fucking, Enrique Iglesias wannabe asshole so much,” Blaine said through gritted teeth, feeling like he could punch a hole through the wall. None of this should have been happening to him. 

“Me, too,” Kurt said softly, leaning his head in until their foreheads rested together. “I’m sorry I brought you into this… Well, I’m sorry I brought him into this. I’m never going to apologize for wanting you.” 

“This is too much,” he confessed, proud of himself for actually saying it aloud. 

“I know,” Kurt said, pulling away with a sad smile. “But I hope it won’t always be. I broke up with Evan.” 

“Do you want a medal?” he asked, hating how bitter his voice got and how it made Kurt’s face fall. “I’m sorry, I just… I shouldn’t have to congratulate you on breaking up with a guy that treated you like shit. You should have never been with him in the first place. I hate saying it because I know that I drove you to it. But you let him treat you far worse than I ever did. Yet I’m the one that got punished. You let him treat you like some fucking lapdog and it was disgusting to watch. I, on the other hand, got cut out of your life when everything I’d ever done — as horrible as it was — was a least done with good intentions.” 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Kurt confessed. “I try to pretend like I do but I have no idea. You hurt me. No matter how understandable your actions might have been, they still hurt. I didn’t know what to do with any of it except to push it all away and pack it up in a box labeled ‘Blaine’ that I didn’t want to ever open again.” 

“Here we go again with those fucking boxes,” he grumbled.  

“I’m sixteen!” Kurt yelled. “I’m not supposed to know how to handle something like this. I messed up, okay? I made some bad choices, too. I know I should never have been with Evan, but I was. I treated you unfairly, but I think I’ve more than paid the consequences and I’m here. I’ve apologized and I’m trying. I just don’t know what else to do. You have to help me out here, because I don’t know how I’m supposed to make things go back to how they were.” 

“I don’t want them to go back to how they were,” Blaine said. “Things were horrible how they were. I was terrified to be with you before, that’s not what I want for us. I just want to move forward but I don’t think I can do that until I figure out how to be in a relationship without investing all of myself in it.” 

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” he asked, looking confused. 

“It hurts too much,” Blaine said. “We’re in high school, it’s not supposed to hurt this much.”

“Shouldn’t that show you how right this is?” Kurt asked. “Look at me? I just broke up with my boyfriend of almost four months and the one I’m crying over here is you.” 

They stood in silence, neither of them knowing what to say. They both wanted desperately to be able to fix this, but it wasn’t something they could fix with a few words.  Time was going to be the only thing to heal their wounds, and they needed to give themselves that. Trying to force this to work any sooner than they were ready would only hurt them more in the end. 

“I just feel so angry all of the time,” Blaine confessed. “I’m angry that it took a sex tape leaking for my dad to finally admit he was proud of me. I’m angry at Evan for doing this to us. I’m angry that everyone at school continues to treat me like shit when they used to worship the ground I walked on all because I suddenly got ‘too gay’ for them. I’m angry at Finn for thinking he had to stand up for me at school when he’d been my main tormentor all along. I’m so fucking pissed at you for ever thinking I would do this to you and I’m angry at myself for still loving you despite all of that, because I shouldn’t. But most of all, I’m just so fucking angry that I allowed things to get this bad. I should have stood up for you in the beginning and been brave enough. I never should have let those guys at my old school get to me. I had everything and I didn’t appreciate any of it until now.” 

“You won’t always be this angry,” Kurt said, holding out his hands for Blaine to grab onto again. 

“What if I am?” he asked, knowing he sounded a bit like a petulant child. 

“You could always sing about it,” Kurt said with a teasing smile. 

“Ha ha,” he said humorlessly. “You’ve spent too much time in Glee club.” 

“Probably,” Kurt agreed. “But it doesn’t mean that it won’t help. Come on, sing with me.” 

Kurt went over to his iPod and played with it for a few minutes before a familiar song was coming through the speakers at full blast. Kurt smiled at him and pulled him up onto the bed where he promptly started jumping up and down and singing out the words to Matchbox Twenty’s ‘Long Day’ loudly and passionately until Blaine couldn’t help but sing along with him at the top of his lungs. It felt a bit ridiculous, but Kurt might have been right. With every angry line and curse, he felt the bitterness begin to chip away until he was relaxed enough to reach out for Kurt’s hand, offering him a tentative smile. 

Yeah, they just needed some time to heal first. Nothing was lost forever. 

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