Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.


Splinters

It takes Kurt being alone and naked in the shower to stop.

Stop putting on.

Stop holding back.

To pull back the mask, his every inch of skin screaming with pain. And he does not know it when he is screaming all that pain out at the shower walls.

And he does not remember that Blaine will be back from their favourite take out place in only minutes time.

Kurt does not feel Blaine, fully clothed, gathering the heap of a man from the shower floor and cradling him in his arms, the hot water still pouring onto both of them, some of Kurt's wounds ripped open again, water washing over them, dragging it away in red streams.

Kurt does not feel it when Blaine carries him from the shower, running and running still with nothing left to wash away.

Kurt does not feel it when he is wrapped in the warmest, fluffiest towel they own, when his hair is tenderly blow dried, his cuts newly disinfected, when Blaine helps him into a pair of underwear and putting on one of his own wraps Kurt in his arms under their favourite, softest blanket, places kiss after kiss to Kurt's hair.

Kurt does not feel any of it.