A/N: This a little sad, but will eventually become quite a bit happier. I think you'll appreciate, trust me.
The summer air was starting to cling with humidity. Clouds were starting to form. Dark clouds.
Outside, the moon was brightly shining. What, did you think there was a storm coming in Ohio? No, it was an incredibly beautiful night outside. It just wasn't in the mind of a certain 25-year-old gay man by the name of Kurt Hummel.
Kurt stared into the mirror in his small apartment bathroom. He had been standing there for over half an hour. He was dreadfully worried. His boyfriend, Pete Darings, hadn't come home yet. He should have gotten off of work at 5:30, and it was 9:30 last time he checked. He didn't know where Pete could be at this point. He had tried his cell about 6 or 7 times, had tried getting a hold of Pete's best friend, Mark, and tried calling his boss, Nick. Nobody had picked up, and so Kurt was worried.
Suddenly, Kurt's phone rang in his pocket. He jumped, whipping it out hastily. He looked at the screen. It read "Dad." Kurt sighed and opened the phone.
"Hey, Dad. I can't really talk right now. I'm waiting for Pete to call."
"Why, where is he?" Burt Hummel asked.
"Not here, which is where he should be," Kurt answered. He looked at his watch again. 9:45. Great.
"Have you called him?"
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Great idea, Dad. Like I haven't already tried that a bajillion times."
Burt laughed. "Don't get huffy with me, Kurt, I was just making a suggestion. Well, I guess the best you can do for now is wait. Also, I have a question for you."
"Yeah?"
"Have you heard from Finn lately? He and Rachel aren't home yet, and we were getting kind of worried." Finn and Rachel had taken a vacation to Hawaii, and had left their little son, Benny, in the care of Burt and Carole. Kurt would have taken him, had Pete not been acting so strange lately.
"Yeah, he called me about 2 hours ago. He told me his flight home was cancelled and they wouldn't have another chance to get home until Friday."
"Ugh, that's two more days! They should be lucky I love Ben, or I wouldn't be doing this for too much longer."
"Hahaha, can I talk to him?"
"Yeah, here you go." Kurt heard Burt walk around, searching for his nephew.
"Hello?" said a little voice over the phone. Kurt smiled, relaxing.
"Hey there, Benny!"
"Hi, Kurtie!"
The little 3-year-old's voice was all it took to ease Kurt's mind a little.
"How have you been, little buddy?"
"Good. Me and Grampa washed the car today."
"Did you?" Kurt asked in amusement. Burt never failed to try to get his toddler grandson into cars.
"Yeah. I wish you were here, Kurtie."
Kurt smiled a little. He was only fond of that name when Benny said it. "I do to, Benny. I'll see you when I bring Mommy and Daddy home on Friday, okay?"
"Okay!"
"Alright, bud. I love you."
"I love you too, Kurtie! Here's Grampa."
Kurt heard the phone being passed off. His father came back on.
"He really loves you."
"I know." Kurt smiled brightly. It made him feel good to know that he could make his little nephew smile.
"Well, keep your chin up, kiddo, and we'll see you Friday, okay?"
"Alright Dad. Love you."
"Love you too, Kurt. Bye."
"Bye."
Kurt closed the phone, tucking it back in his pocket. He sighed, and went back to staring into the mirror.
O
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The little screen on his phone lit up. He ran a hand through his dark curls, which had grown out since his high school years. He clicked the ignore button again, laying back down.
Blaine Anderson hadn't taken a single call in almost a week. He was still just too unhappy.
His boyfriend of one year, Gabe, had come home early from work last Thursday without telling Blaine. Blaine found this out later when he walked in the front door of the apartment he shared with Gabe, catching him making out with a petite blonde girl on their couch. That's what he got for dating a bisexual man.
And so, Blaine had called in sick at work for a while, saying he had an awful stomach flu that could last for some time. His boss understood that there was more to it, but left it alone and told Blaine to take off as much as he needed to. Rehearsal could happen without him, they would handle it.
Blaine stared at the ceiling. The weather in downtown New York City had been dreary the past few days as his mood had worsened.
Again, the phone rang. He was ready to press the answer button and tell his friend, Harvey, to stop calling. He answered without looking at the caller ID.
"Look, I'm not in the mood to talk right now, okay?"
"Blaine, what's wrong?"
"K-Kurt," Blaine whispered. He hadn't expected that.
"Hey you. What's up? You sound terrible."
"I am."
"No, you aren't. What's wrong?"
And Blaine explained everything to him. Kurt never failed to listen without interruption. He may have gasped a few times, but he never tried to comment.
"Blaine, I am so sorry. That is so terrible. So, he moved out?"
"Yep. Took everything that belonged to him and left. It only took one box, considering he was so cheap he made me buy everything. I had to burn all the pictures. The only one left is the one of you and me back after Regionals at Dalton. I'm never getting rid of that."
"Hey, I still have that too!"
"Doesn't surprise me."
"Blaine, do you… do you want to come down here for a few days? Sounds like you need it."
"No, I'll be fine. I don't wanna intrude on you and Pete's life. It's okay." Blaine didn't want to be around the man he knew he still loved while Kurt was with the man he shared his life with.
"You sure? Pete wouldn't mind."
"Are you kidding? Every time I come over and even talk to you, he wonders why. He's like a parole officer."
"He's just protective. I mean, you are my ex, after all."
Blaine winced. He didn't like to be reminded of what might be considered the worst day of his life.
On the other side of the phone, a door opened.
"Oh, Pete's home. Gotta go, bye!"
Kurt hung up and Blaine said "Bye" to a dial tone.
O
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"Pete, where have you been?"
"Out," the sandy-haired man said with a slightly slurred tone.
"Have you… been drinking?" Kurt said, terrified.
"Maybe," Pete said, a growl rumbling in his chest. Kurt had a feeling he knew what would happen if he spoke again, but he did anyway.
"Pete, you know you shouldn't-"
Kurt was cut off as Pete's hand clutched at his throat, pinching his windpipe shut. Kurt tried desperately to release the fingers squeezing his neck, but to no avail. The best he could do was wait until Pete was done being a drunken madman, and hung there, struggling helplessly in midair.
"I will do what I want, when I want. What I do is none of your business, okay?" Pete shouted in his face. His breath reeked of beer and whiskey.
Kurt nodded as best as he could, and Pete dropped him to the floor. Kurt sucked in a breath of air, and it whooshed out of him again as Pete kicked him so hard he hit the wall two feet away.
"Stupid bitch," Pete whispered as he walked out. Kurt clutched his side, standing gingerly as he heard Pete walk down the hall to his separate room. Kurt shut out the light, and hobbled down to his own room.
Five minutes later, in his pajamas, sitting in bed, Kurt held a blade to his wrist. He cut over the same seven old scars he had given himself a year ago. It hurt desperately, but as he felt the pain in his heart melt away a little bit, he didn't mind.
Don't think Kurt did this on a mere whim. Kurt hated to do this. He really did. But it wasn't as if he could help it. He only did this when the emotional pain in his heart was too much, and he needed some sort of physical release before it consumed him. It worked, but he had done it so much lately he was surprised the scars still were able to close.
He would have left Pete if he could, but he knew what Pete was capable of. He would find him. Or worse, he would threaten to hurt Benny. Kurt would never, ever allow that.
Tears streamed down his flawless porcelain face, leaving streaks that almost always appeared there nowadays.
He hoped Benny would never see him like this. The only reason he kept himself alive was so that he wouldn't have to live with the guilt of knowing what he did to his only nephew. And then there was Blaine. Blaine had been his best friend for years after high school, and even if they were exes, Kurt still told Blaine everything. But he wouldn't tell him this. He hoped that Blaine would never see the scars that covered Kurt's wrist.
Little did Kurt know that miles away from him, Blaine was crying, too, staring at his own marred arm.
A/N: I hope this was enjoyed. I will only write more if you guys like this. All my writing only continues if it sparks intrest. :)