A/N: I can't believe that I'm putting off writing A Different Kind of Family again, but this has been drifting around my computer for a while (along with about four unfinished multi-chapter stories, so look out for them within…I dunno, sometime in the near or far future) and I thought I'd post it. It's got a slightly inappropriate joke, a bit of fluff at the very end, a wee bit of angst in the middle, and some Wes at the beginning. Yay. Set when Kurt first goes to Dalton. Xx
Wes Richmond pulled his books out of his locker, humming merrily to himself. He had just got off the phone with a seriously hot girl he had met in the Lima Bean a few days ago who had agreed to go on a date with him, he had a fantastic idea for the Warblers, he had passed his impossible Algebra test, and- best of all- it was Friday, and the day before one of the Warblers legendarily awesome bonding parties. It was a special 'gear up for Sectionals' celebration, and- although the two in question didn't know it- also a 'make Kurt and Blaine stop all the eye-sex and get together already' party. Yeah, thought Wes, it was going to be a good party. He slammed his locker shut (it had a slightly dented door, so the extra force was unfortunately necessary), making someone a few lockers down jump so violently they dropped their books. A few boys rushed over to help, but Wes wasn't really paying attention so just yelled "sorry" over his shoulder and hurried off to tell David about the Lima Bean girl.
Kurt flushed bright red as the last boy patted him on the shoulder, after several of them had hurried over to help him pick up the books he had so embarrassingly dropped. Kurt hated that he was so jumpy all the time, even though he knew he was safe here. He hated that he still hesitated around corners, stayed away from sports players (aside from Blaine, the star of the soccer team) and how he jumped at every little noise, every sudden movement in his direction. Sighing, Kurt bowed his head and made his way to class, already late because of his overreaction.
"Listen up everybody." A gavel banged on the dent that had been formed on the council's table. Wes loved his gavel, and no matter how much people teased him about it. They all knew it was what stopped the Warblers from flying free and turning their carefully organised rehearsals into a 'kangaroo court', as Thad had so eloquently put it. "I know we're all looking forward to the party tomorrow, but as always, there are certain rules. Number one, no spiking drinks. We are on school grounds, so if we are drunk, we will get suspended. And I don't have the time to charm our way out of that. Again. Number two, any impromptu performances you feel like giving must be in some way appropriate, which means no excessive grinding or overly explicate lap dances." He paused, glaring at two boys in the corner who had a reputation of getting rather handsy at parties, (whether they were drunk or not) then added "with the exception of Kurt and Blaine, if that's what it'll take for them to finally get together." The two boys in question gaped at him, both going red.
"There will be no grinding or lap dances going on between us, thank you very much, Wes." Kurt said primly, in the voice that almost every other Warbler found to be seriously annoying. As much as they wanted the happy couple to work out, most of them didn't actually like Kurt: they thought he was rather holier-than-thou, quick to insult and very defensive.
"Whatever." Wes muttered dismissively, and moved on to more interesting topics. He didn't notice Kurt's frown, or Blaine rubbing his arm slightly where they sat next to each other on the sofa.
Practise ended, but Blaine and Kurt didn't leave. Wes knew it was wrong, but Kurt didn't look happy, and he was curious as to what was wrong, so he paused outside the slightly-open door, listening in on their conversation.
"…like I'm ever going to fit in, Blaine." Kurt's voice was quiet, and not just as if he was tired, or something. There was a weird tone of defeat in it, like he was giving up.
"You will." Blaine replied, his trademark confidence somehow missing. "You just have to give it time."
"You know, you're a really bad liar, Blaine Warbler." Kurt said dryly, a hint of his old haughty tone back.
"I'm not lying, honest." Blaine insisted. "You really will fit in. Just…don't expect too much."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Wes wondered the same.
"They're not all going to like you, Kurt." Blaine said slowly, clearly thinking about what he was saying. "You will gain their respect and their trust with time, and I have absolutely no doubt that you will make many friends. But the general image of this school is uniformity, especially among the Warblers, and you know you don't exactly fit that bill." Wes expected Kurt to reply with some annoyed, defensive defiance, but all the new kid did was let out a little sigh.
"I know." He said sadly. "I wish I did, though. It would have made my life a hell of a lot easier. I mean, Wes, David and Thad already hate me for messing up your group dynamic, especially Wes. I haven't done anything to particularly offend them, have I?" Kurt's question was oddly innocent, full of simple worry, and Wes was surprised. He didn't know Kurt thought he didn't like the countertenor. Admittedly, he wasn't Wes's favourite person, but he didn't think he'd shown any particular hostility towards him.
"No, Kurt, of course you haven't." Wes could easily picture Blaine's worried, helpful face, probably pressed into Kurt's shoulder as he gave the boy a reassuring hug. "They'll come around, I promise." Sensing the two were about to leave, Wes pulled his ear away from the door and almost ran down a nearby corridor so they wouldn't see him. As he trudged the long way back to his dorms, he was deep in thought. He honestly hadn't meant to make Kurt feel unwelcome, and he was going to fix that if he could.
Happy to have an opportunity for fashion, Kurt riffled through his wardrobe, piecing together the perfect outfit from his relatively limited resources for the party. Aside from the fact that the only had one friend as of yet, Dalton's chief failing in his eyes was its uniform. It was actually quite a nice one, but he deeply missed being able to choose an outfit to reflect his mood every morning, as well as the spares he always had in case of slushies. Actually, he didn't at all miss the slushies; he just got a lot of satisfaction out of picking out a perfect combination. Thinking back to his and Blaine's conversation in the choir room earlier, Kurt decided that less was probably more in this situation, so he settled for a slightly more subdued outfit than usual: white skinny jeans and a red shirt with a thin black tie and Doc Martins. He wished he had been able to wear his favourite boots, but they hadn't been able to fit in his suitcase. There was a knock at his door, and he opened it to reveal Blaine, out of uniform and clutching a copy of Vogue.
"Hi." He said brightly, and Kurt stepped back to let him in.
"What're you doing here so early? The party doesn't start for an hour." Kurt wondered.
"David decided that now would be a brilliant time to call his girlfriend who he hasn't seen for six weeks." Blaine said, giving a mock shudder. "I was drowning in the mushiness of it all." Kurt laughed, and Blaine settled himself on the other boy's bed, crossing his legs and opening his magazine. Kurt proceeded to get changed, but when he had to take his shirt off, he paused, not sure.
"Would you mind turning around, please?" He asked Blaine nervously, even though the boy hadn't glanced up from his magazine since he sat down.
"Kurt, you go to an all-boys boarding school." Blaine chuckled. "You are going to have to get used to changing in front of people." Kurt hesitated.
"Yeah, sure." He muttered after a pause, and began unbuttoning his shirt. Once he took it off, he turned around and bent over to pick up his new one from the bed, and heard a little gasp from behind him.
"Kurt." Blaine's voice was shocked, and Kurt whipped round.
"What?" He asked impatiently.
"You-you- I can see all your bones." Blaine said, shocked. "And your bruises…" Kurt flushed, going to put his purple shirt on quickly. This was why he was happy he had been given one of the only singles available to juniors: he really didn't want anyone knowing about his bad physique. His back was a mixture of purple and brown, with deep grooves marked into it in certain places, and his front wasn't much better. He had a scar on his shoulder from one of the times he had been pushed down the stairs (one of the rarer but scarier forms of violence), and he knew that one would be able to count his ribs. Every ounce of baby fat he had retained last year had gone; he was now as thin as someone who doesn't eat on purpose, and he knew what Blaine would think.
"It's not as bad as it looks." Kurt muttered quietly, but Blaine snatched his shirt away from him, taking him by a skinny arm. He could almost wrap his whole hand around it.
"The hell it isn't." Blaine exclaimed.
Wes felt guilty; there was really no other reason for it. Looking back, he realised that he really hadn't been very welcoming at all to Kurt, and now that he knew the new boy was upset, he felt incredibly bad. He didn't dislike Kurt, they just didn't have a lot in common, and Wes had never been known for his people skills, anyway. So an hour or so before the party, he dragged David away from his phone (and got an earful from his girlfriend because of it), detached Thad from one of his enormous novels, and set off to Kurt's single room to apologise. But when he threw the door open with a cry of "hi!" he saw Kurt standing, head bowed, with Blaine grabbing his arm, both with horrified expressions directed towards the door. And the Wes took a further look at Kurt, who was shirtless, and saw the bones jutting out of his torso, the pale skin marred with purple and red marks, the scar on his shoulder.
"Dude, what happened to your back?" David practically breathed, ever the tactless idiot. Kurt threw his shirt on, snatching his arm away from Blaine and turning away.
"I'm fine. Honestly." He said defensively. "Please leave now."
"Not a chance." Wes said scornfully, grabbing Kurt's shoulder almost roughly and spinning him around. Kurt flinched away from him, stepping backwards.
"Leave me alone." He muttered, only relaxing when Blaine moved to his side protectively.
"Do what he says, guys." He warned, but Wes ignored him, deciding that was enough.
"No, Blaine." He said sharply, then turned to Kurt. "I came here to talk to you, because I realised that I am kind of an asshole."
"No, you're no-" Kurt tried to interrupt, but Wes held up a hand to stop him. Everyone was watching him curiously, to see what he was going to say.
"Yes, I am." He insisted. "Just listen, please." Wes took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry for the way I have treated you, Kurt. You came here looking for safety and friendship, and I have done nothing to help you settle in. As the head councilman of the Warblers, I should have been the first to welcome you, to offer support, but instead I all but ignored you and refused to accept you as one of our own, just because you're a little different than the rest of us. And what I've just seen now" he gestured to Kurt's shirt covered back and grimaced "shows that you need friends, you need people you can talk to and confide in, not people who are going to shun your ideas and make you feel unwelcome. So, yeah. I'm sorry, Kurt, and I'd like it if we could start again." Wes held out a hand to shake Kurt's, and after a moment's hesitation, Kurt took it.
"Thank you, Wes. That means a lot and really like it if we could be friends." Kurt said with a small, but definitely genuine, smile. Wes grinned back, then Thad cleared his throat.
"Not to break up the beginnings of what I'm sure will be a beautiful companionship," he said "but are you ok, Kurt? I mean, that looks nasty." He gestured to Kurt's back. Kurt bit his lip, lowering his head slightly.
"It wouldn't have been too bad if the bruises had been able to heal before I was given new ones." He shrugged slightly. "And you kind of got used to the slushies and the dumpster tosses. The chuck down the stairs in freshman year was a bit of a shock to the system, and Karofsky was a downright creep, but I'm ok now. Or rather, I will be." He looked up again, to see the other boys looking a mixture of shocked and sympathetic.
"Kurt…" David said, oddly sombre for once. "You know nothing like that will ever happen here, right? You don't have to be afraid anymore."
"I know." Replied with Kurt with a smile. "Now, shall we head down to the party?"
They did head down, and they had a good time. At different intervals throughout the evening, each of the Warblers (who had received a text from Wes saying Warblers unite! Make Kurt feel welcome and stop treating him like an outcast, he's had enough of that already. The gavel thanks you) came up to him and said something nice, or offered him something to eat. One Warbler even offered him a lap dance, but he went bright red and said a stuttering "n-no, thank you." And by the end of the night, he was laughing and dancing along with all of them, happy to feel welcomed, accepted and liked. He felt safe.
So there you go, hope you liked it. Review, please, it'll be an EPIC Christmas present. Also, if I don't update before then, have a very, very, very happy Christmas, all of you. If you don't celebrate Christmas, happy New Year, and if you don't celebrate that either, and are living with some alternative calendar to the rest of the world, then enjoy your spare holiday. Xx