Title: Happiness

Author: rotfldracomalfoy

Word Count: 1,764

Pairing: Kurt/Blaine

School was full of cliques. All schools were; elementary schools, middle schools, and high schools alike were run by them. If you didn't fit into one, you fit into another. There is a social hierarchy. Everyone knows about it.

At McKinley, cliques and hierarchies are intensified. If you aren't a jock or cheerleader, you're at the bottom of the food chain, subject to slushy facials, locker slams, dumpster tosses, and Port-a-Potty lock ins.

Kurt Hummel was the epitome of a misfit. As a freshman, he was automatically bullied as most freshman were, unless they had a special connection to upperclassmen. His voice was high, but not merely because he hadn't gone through puberty. It was blatantly obvious that his voice would remain like that for the rest of his life. There wasn't a single thing he could do about it. In addition to his high pitched voice, his clothes weren't exactly similar to those around him. He was rather into fashion and design, so his clothes reflected such. He wore as many designer labels as he could, but two weeks into his high school career, he learned to keep his most expensive pieces at home. Slushy stains are impossible to get out of most fabrics.

Kurt discovered the Lima Bean about three weeks into the school year. It was a little coffee shop between a little bookstore and a sheet music store. It was a quiet little place; not many people came there, and not many people there made much of a fuss about anything.

Once Kurt found the place, he couldn't stop coming back.

It became a safe haven of sorts. When the bullying got bad, he could come to the Lima Bean, curl up on a sofa in the corner with his nonfat mocha and feel a little safer than before. He became a regular at the shop, and the baristas began to know to fix his order at four o'clock, right when he arrived.

People liked him there. He had a sense of humor, and he was witty when spoken to. None of the other regulars knew him well, but at least they didn't hate him. That was a start.

It was raining that day. The bullying had peaked at its worst, and Kurt was utterly miserable. He dragged himself to the coffee shop that day, easing himself into one of the chairs as his favorite barista, and older woman named Martha, brought him his coffee. He pulled out his wallet and handed her a five, managing a small smile.

"Tough day?" she asked, setting his nonfat mocha on the table. Kurt managed a smile that really turned out to be more of a grimace.

"Happiness and rainbows as usual," he quipped, sipping his mocha. /Ah, heaven/. The warmth engulfed him from the inside out, making him crave another sip. Martha let out a soft, musical laugh.

"I hope things get better for you," she told him, her smile fading as her face turned serious.

"Thank you," he said softly, paired with a little nod of his head. As she walked away, he moved to lean back in his chair, but stopped himself. He couldn't lean against the backs of chairs anymore. The bruises on his back hurt at the lightest touch. At least he slept on his stomach.

Kurt sighed as he rummaged through his bookbag, looking for some homework to do. The papers from his math notebook had been trampled over by a herd of jocks after one in particular knocked his books to the ground. One footprint on a worksheet was so big it went off either side of the paper. Kurt decided he wasn't in the mood for homework, so he set his bag aside. He sipped his mocha quietly, looking down at the table as he traced his finger around the rim of a stain from a coffee cup.

He became lost in his thoughts about his bullies. There were his three main tormentors, large jocks that he didn't know a thing about. He expected a slushy from each per day, maybe more if they were feeling particularly evil. He had slushies categorized; he knew which stung your eyes worst, which were the worst to get out of clothes, and which were the stickiest. His favorite was cherry.

Kurt's thoughts were interrupted by a young man's voice. "Excuse me?" His voice was soft, calming. Kurt felt safe and warm almost immediately, and he glanced up to see whose face accompanied the voice. He was met with naturally smoldering, gorgeous hazel eyes with little flecks of green, from what he could tell upon first glance upon a face with amazing structure a male model would be jealous of. He had unkempt chocolatey, curly hair, unmanageable even with the extreme amount of gel that was painfully obvious. His stature was short, but his build was thin yet subtly muscular. Phew. This boy was /hot/.

"You just seemed so sad," the boy continued, his eyes full of concern and compassion. Kurt couldn't look away. "I just have to know you."

This startled Kurt. No one had ever claimed to need anything from him before. No one had ever expressed any interest in him, let alone feel like they had to know him. Especially no one as attractive as this boy. This was probably all a sick, cruel joke. He was tempted to close his eyes and wait for the shove, the kick, the punch, or the slap. However, he didn't. He let himself trust this boy. He seemed different from anyone else he'd ever seen before, and maybe he'd prove to be better than the rest of them.

Kurt nodded a little, motioning for the boy to take the seat in front of his. "I'm Kurt," he said, his voice soft. The curly haired boy's face lit up, instantly taking the seat before Kurt. "Blaine," the boy said. "Blaine Anderson." He proceeded to extend his right hand to Kurt, who gratefully shook it. A wave of comfort, warmth, and a sense of safety immediately filled him from that single handshake, and he managed a small smile, which was soon returned by Blaine.

"So, Kurt, are you okay?" Blaine asked, folding his hands over the table with concern in his hazel eyes. Kurt had to look away for a moment. Why would he tell this stranger all of his problems? Under any other circumstance, he wouldn't, but Blaine felt trustworthy already.

"I would say yes, but that would be a blatant lie. However, I wouldn't want to burden you with my problems, so I guess I'll just say I've been better," Kurt decided, cupping his hands around his mocha for the warmth Blaine had provided that he already craved again. He looked down at his cup, only to hear Blaine sigh.

"Kurt, if I walked away right now and left you here, it would be the worst decision of my life. I'd never know what would become of you, and I'd feel guilty for as long as I live," Blaine confessed, looking Kurt in the eyes. Kurt practically felt butterflies swirling in his stomach. He'd never felt like this before, and he'd known this guy for all of five minutes.

"Fine. I'm not okay. Is that what you want to hear, Blaine?" Kurt couldn't seem to get enough of saying his name. It just rolled off his tongue. Blaine. Blaine. /Blaine/.

Blaine shook his head. "Not really, but at least you've told me the truth," he said. They sat in silence for awhile, Kurt working up the nerve to tell him about everything, and Blaine just looking at Kurt in a way that was so...so different from any way Kurt had ever been looked at before.

"They bully me at McKinley," Kurt blurted out after a few minutes of silence. Blaine's eyes grew from concern to a flash of anger and fear for him, and Kurt was thankful. "I'm a freshman, so that already gives the upperclassmen more reason to bully me. My voice is high pitched, obviously, so they bully me for that, as well as my sense of fashion." Once Kurt began to speak, it was like a dam had been broken. He didn't stop for near a half hour, telling Blaine about the various forms of torture, from explaining the slushy facials to telling him about the time he was stuck in the dumpster for eight hours. It was easy to see that Blaine was horrified, and with good reason.

Blaine opened his mouth to speak right as his phone rang, blaring Teenage Dream. Kurt smiled a little to himself, hoping the ringtone could spark a good-natured debate between Katy and Gaga. He didn't have a chance to bring it up, however, because Blaine was out of his seat the second he answered his phone.

"Yes, I'm sorry... I lost track of time. The coffee shop. Okay. I'll be home in a half hour. Alright. Goodbye, Mom." Blaine sighed as he slipped his iPhone back into his pocket. "I'm afraid we'll have to cut our conversation short," he apologized to Kurt. He snagged a paper napkin and pen and scribbled something down before sliding it across the table to Kurt.

His phone number.

"Don't hesitate to call, text, whatever," Blaine told him, a serious look in his eyes. "I know you don't know much about me, but hopefully that can be changed. Just know that I understand what you're going through, and I hope I can help you through it. Just don't be afraid to talk to me, ask me to meet up with you or just call me to chit chat, alright?" Kurt nodded an affirmative, typing Blaine's phone number into his own iPhone.

"I'll text you, Blaine," Kurt offered, a true smile on his face for what felt like the first time in an eternity. Blaine grinned, waving as he walked out of the coffee shop.

Hi, it's Kurt. -K, he texted Blaine just so he would have his number. Blaine's reply was almost instant, and it made him smile.

You should smile more often, Kurt. Happy looks good on you. -B, was the reply.

"You're practically glowing, Kurt," Martha mused as she flitted by him, cleaning the table beside his. Kurt felt a blush paint his cheeks, and he smiled a little more. "I've never served that kid before, but he seems like he's good for you."

Kurt nodded, looking back down at his coffee cup, a small smile now gracing his face, faint yet still there.

Maybe this year wouldn't be unbearable.

Read and review so I know whether to continue!