A/N: This is the first chapter to a multi-chapter story. This story addresses several things. Such as intersexes, homophobic bullying, attacks, and abuse, self-deprivation of sexuality, and homosexual intercourse. If you are aware of these things and are fine with these subjects, continue reading! The second chapter will be up soon so happy reading!

Warning: Mild swearing and sexual touching.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee. Fox, RIB, and the rest of its owners do. This is entirely for entertainment and fandom purposes.

Facts Of The Heart

Chapter One: Following Facts

There are times when a person thinks that their final decision on a subject is final and never changing.

I come from an environment that is built on facts. My father is a physics professor at the university and my mother is a psychologist at the hospital. Facts are what I grew up on. Always follow your mind; a heart is only an organ. A heart cannot plan logical details and a heart does not want anything either. So feelings are merely selfish illusions. I believed in all these statements and no one could change my mind. That is, until I met Kurt; a boy who was unlike any boy I've ever met.

I was seven when I had my first crush, on a boy. I was young and naive so I made the mistake of telling my father about my crush. He responded by giving me a slap to the face and he told me to never look at boys that way again or real pain would came my way.

So I tried. I really tried to like girls. But nothing ever happened to my dopamine transmitter mom talks about, where a person feels attracted to another human being. So I came to the conclusion that feelings are not real. The fact is that boys like girls and girls like boys. So I found my first girlfriend a couple months ago: Vanessa Lang. She's a beautiful girl but when we kiss it's just weird.

I'm still dating her; thankfully I don't see her that much because I board at Dalton Academy. But everything I thought that I knew about facts and human behavior came back to haunt me. It all started on the first week in October of my junior year.

…

"What are you doing over there?" Brent, my roommate, asked me from across our shared dorm.

"Chemistry homework, what you should be doing," I grumbled, not bothering to look away from the textbook.

"I'll do mine later," Brent stressed.

"You mean at the last minute?" I asked lowly.

"The best time," Brent remarked proudly although he shouldn't be prideful in procrastination.

I shook my head. "You have no hope. Could you turn the T.V. down a little? Hard to concentrate."

"So go to the library."

"I can't," I strained.

"Why?"

"Wes and David are being too loud with their whispers." I defended.

"Ugh, whatever," Brent grumbled as I heard the T.V.'s volume lower a little.

Five minutes later, after completing the last Chemistry problem, my cell phone vibrated.

One new text from: Mom

I've got a patient at the hospital who wants some info about Dalton

I rolled my eyes. Every semester Dalton picks one of their academically eligible students to be a spokesperson for other possible students. They assumed students could relate to a student spokesperson better than a stuffy, all business, and adult spokesperson.

So now whenever a patient of mom's is interested, she expects me to go to the hospital and be Dalton's salesman. The last one didn't go too well…

…

"I want to go to Dalton to get away from girls. Girls are the last thing I want to see."

I tried to keep my eyebrows at an appropriate level as I also tried to figure out why on earth mom thought it would be a good idea for me to talk to this imbecile.

I looked through my specialized folder and handed the slouchy-dressed boy an informative paper. "Well…if you are really that interested here is an estimate of your tuition calculated by—"

"Shit! Do I have to sell my soul here to get away from girls?" he remarked.

"We are not only about being an all boy's school. Dalton is a private school that—"

His mouth formed in the shape of an "O" and then interrupted me once again, "Ah…a prep school. No thanks. I'll look into another all boy's school then."

…

Don't think so.

He is not like Justin. Just come talk to him.

Every time I see one of your patients it never ends well.

He has a good reason to go to Dalton. Just trust me.

You say that about all your patients.

If you see him I swear you don't have to see anymore of my patients.

Maybe.

I'll pay you 100.

Be there in 20 minutes.

I began to pack my messenger bag and look for my specialized Dalton folder with all the information and forms when Brent realized what I was doing.

"Going to sale our school again?" he smirked.

"Hopefully he'll be the last one my mom is making me see."

…

The drive to Westerville Memorial was spent with me trying to gain charming composure before meeting a possible lunatic and planning an approach to make my mom satisfied and hopefully for her patient to not want to enroll. After walking up to mom's floor and knocking on her office, she led me to another floor.

"Why are we on the research floor instead of the psychiatric ward?" I wondered as I glanced through the marble white floor with identical colored walls and room doors.

"This boy has got a lot of problems," she grumbled.

"Great," I sighed.

"Just—you just need to meet him." She shrugged at a loss of words for once.

I had no idea what she meant by that but I decided to play along. For the up side at least I'm getting paid and this will be my last run in with one of her patients. She stopped at room 3J and led me in.

A boy lied in the bed but his back was turned. He appeared to be sleeping. Another person was also in the room, a man dressed in flannel and a baseball cap; I assumed this man was the boy's father.

I strode over to the flannel-wearing man with a gentle, cautious smile before extending my hand to him.

"Hi, I'm Blaine Anderson. Student spokesman from Dalton Academy," I greeted. He looked up at me with a satisfied smirk and shook my hand.

"Burt Hummel," the man greeted himself. "I'll leave you and Kurt alone," he said standing up and leaving the room. I assumed the boy on the bed was named Kurt.

"I'll wake him up and let you two talk," said mom before gently shaking the boy's shoulder and murmuring quiet words into his ear. He started to stir in his sleep. Mom gave me short nod and left the room so I was completely alone with him.

I drew in a deep breath and approached the bed carefully. Somehow I felt that Kurt wouldn't give me too much trouble like mom's other patients. But what exactly did she mean by he has "a lot of problems"? She didn't give me any information.

The first thing I noticed when Kurt woke up was his eyes.

His eyes were spectacular.

He had the bluest eyes that I've ever seen on a boy. I just wanted to look into them for hours although that seemed strange probably. He was shocked at first, when he noticed me, but then glanced down at my folder and uniform.

"Oh you're from Dalton," he registered softly.

I nodded. "I'm Blaine Anderson," I said gently and shied away from to shaking his hand because I had no idea why he was in the hospital in the first place.

"Kurt."

"So why are you interested in Dalton?" I started, like usual.

"I need a safe place," he said simply. There was an exhaustion that I noticed in him. His blue eyes looked heavy and the tone behind his voice seemed so soft and strained.

My previous plan to try to convince the patient to not enroll was out the window. Kurt has not said more than a few words but I could clearly see that he needed Dalton.

"Well Dalton is excellent for that. We have a strict no bullying policy and are tolerant of all minorities," I reviewed the simple rules that I had memorized. His face seemed to light up when I said "no bullying". That interested me. "Are you having bully problems at your school, Kurt?" I asked him.

His face immediately fell and his blue eyes began to shimmer. I gasped quietly, immediately feeling like a horrible person. I've never seen a boy his age cry before and now I've caused it.

"They did this to me," he managed to choke out. I assumed he was speaking of the bullies at his school.

"Did…what to you?" I asked, confused. I still have no idea why he is here and in the research floor of all places.

"Why I'm here. The—the bullies at school. They just wouldn't stop," he cried. I assumed he must have been attacked of some sort.

"So…were you originally sent to the ER?"

He nodded.

"Why are you on the research floor then?" I asked him.

"I don't want to talk about that," he muttered, sniffling a few times.

"That's fine. I'm sorry. But I promise you that you will be safe at Dalton. There is not a single bully at our school and if anyone witnesses violence they report it to the school and that student with act of violence has two more chances before they get banned," I assured him.

He offered me his best smile before looking at me desperately. "I make excellent grades at my school. I'm a great student."

I smiled warmly back to the upset boy. "Well that's great. Dalton is a lot of work though." Like usual, I took an informative paper from my specialized folder and handed it to Kurt. "Now here is the estimate of the tuition at Dalton calculated on—"

"Can my dad look at this?" Kurt asked exhausted as he took the paper and laid it on his close nightstand.

"Of course he can. Do you have any more questions?"

Kurt shook his head.

"Okay well um…can I ask you a question?" I asked carefully.

He nodded.

"Why are you bullied?"

"Because I'm gay," Kurt spat out like the word was venom. The word "gay" honestly made me flinch. For years I've tried to battle with that word and myself before I've come to the realization that I just have low attraction to who I'm naturally attracted to and feelings are not real.

Kurt obviously must believe in feelings.

The next thing that came out my mouth was totally unexpected, "Can I have your number?"

"S—Sure," Kurt stuttered awkwardly. Before I knew it I was reaching for my phone and telling him to add himself to my contacts.

Why did I do that?

I don't even know if he is going to be a student at Dalton. He obviously has some sort of problems other than the facts that he is gay and bullied constantly. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I can't be gay. So why do I want his number?

After recommending Kurt to "take it easy" and saying a final good-bye to mom, I headed back to Dalton with Kurt's number in my phone.

That was weird.

Straight guys can text and be friends with gay guys, right?

…

I haven't heard from Kurt in two days after that.

It could be because I didn't text him at all but I felt weird doing that. I was also hoping he would enroll in Dalton and I could see him soon but there has been no sign of that either.

After a full day of classes, I was standing outside the gates of Dalton Academy waiting for Vanessa to arrive for us to spend the day together.

I don't want to see her today.

It's not that I hate her I just hate what she is to me; a girlfriend. I don't want a girlfriend. It's weird. How come taken people speak of relationships as "loving" and "happy" things? How come when I'm in a relationship it's just awkward and weird?

"Hey baby!" I heard a nasally voice call from behind me. Ugh, that's her.

I forced a smile before turning around to face Vanessa.

Oh god.

She was wearing the most reveling outfit I have ever seen her in: cheer shorts and a tank top. I embraced myself for what happened next. She wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a deep kiss.

I hate the deep kisses.

When we share short kisses they are over and done with, but with deep kisses I actually have to kiss her back and make an occasional noise to let her know I'm "enjoying" it. I made a mistake of not doing that at first and then there was a nasty argument.

She moaned when she slipped her tongue into my mouth. This is weird, this is so weird. Thankfully she pulled away and rested her hands on my chest.

"Let's go somewhere," she said breathlessly and kissed my cheek. "Where do you want to go?"

Honestly, I want to go back inside.

"Wherever you want to go." I shot her a fake smile and placed my hands on her lower back.

A twinkle formed in her brown eyes as well as a wide smile. How come her eyes don't capture my attention like Kurt's does? Two days ago I just wanted to get lost in his eyes. But her eyes are just normal, plain eyes.

I should be attracted to my girlfriend not to a boy of all people.

"Let's go to my parent's cabin. It's only two miles from here," she suggested seductively.

Ugh, not again. Every time we go to her parent's cabin she wants us to…do things. It is also pretty embarrassing when she is getting all hot and bothered and I can't even get Blaine Junior to harden up a little.

"Okay," I smirked anyway.

If I don't do what she says she gets mad. So I just do it.

The ride to the cabin was uncomfortable to say the least. While one of her hands was on the wheel the other was constantly rubbing my thigh, occasionally brushing over my groin which I had to pretend turned me on.

That is also entirely unsafe. A person should have both hands on the wheel at all times. I silently groaned when we approached the cabin.

Here goes nothing, literally nothing.

After she hurriedly un-locked the cabin door and then re-locked it once, she led me to the couch and pushed me down to sit. I faked an excited smirk as she straddled my legs. Her tank top collar was starting to reveal too much cleavage as she leaned down with a smile.

I tried to look away but the last time I did that she didn't like it.

Her mouth was on mine in an instant, then her tongue in my mouth an instant later. I tried to get hard, I really did. Nothing was working. I thought of every sexy thing that guys usually think of.

She moved lower and began to suck on my neck.

"What do you want, baby?" she murmured.

For you to get off me.

But what I really want is to figure out why I'm such a dull person when it comes to relationships.

"What do you want?" I asked her.

"Nuh-uh this is all you." she breathed on my ear and un-buttoned my shirt.

Oh god no. This is going too fast. I reached up my hands to try to gently push her off but she mistaken my actions and pressed my hands on her breasts to grope then.

So I sort of freaked out and jumped off the couch causing Vanessa to fall on the floor.

"What is your problem?!" She screamed, fixing her shirt.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I—I just freaked out!" I ran behind the couch and began to button-up my shirt.

She began to stare at me like I was insane. "You always freak out. You barely let me touch you, you don't ever get hard, you seem…hesitant when you touch me…" She began to trail off then gasped and looked at me carefully.

"What?" I asked agitatedly.

"Are you gay?" she asked quietly.

"No! I am not gay!" I immediately responded. Why do people ask me that?

Vanessa shook her head clearly not accepting my defense. "Are you sure? I see the way you look at your roommate sometimes."

"Who, Brent?" I almost laughed. How could a gay man even be attracted to someone like Brent? And if I give him any look, I give him the look of disgust from the way he styles his hair and cleans his side of the dorm.

"Yeah, he's gay you know." Vanessa nodded.

My eyes were wide in unbelief. "…he is?"

"Yes he just doesn't…broadcast it."

Wow. I need to talk to him later about that. I shook that off remembering the issue at hand. "Vanessa I'm sorry. I'm just not ready for all this sexual stuff, okay? I am not gay but I just…I want us to take this slow," I almost begged to her. I honestly didn't know what else to say for her to drop this "gay" thing.

"We've been taking it slow for three months," she stressed.

"No we haven't. We make out from time to time," I argued pathetically.

Vanessa put her knees up on the couch's cushions to get closer to me as I stood my ground from behind the couch. She looked up at me with a confused and worried expression.

"Don't you want to know how it feels like? To have my hands on you making you feel good? I just want you to feel good," she said softly taking my hands.

I smiled at her sudden kindness and gripped her hands gently. "I—I know but…not right now it's…weird for me."

"Because I'm a girl," she stated.

"Because I'm not ready. Don't ever bring up that I'm gay again." My voice began to rise to her and she immediately dropped my hands. I swallowed thickly. I'm beginning to sound like my father when I mentioned I might be gay to him. "Please," I begged.

Vanessa nodded, understanding why I desperately needed her to not bring this up. Just when I thought that this conversation was over with and we could resume to awkward romantic gestures, she looked at me with a different approach.

Her approach wasn't touchy girlfriend. It was just a friend. A friend who cared.

"Blaine you know you can tell me anything," she said.

I wanted to tell her how uncomfortable this is for me. How confused I am to why I cannot be attracted to someone I am naturally attracted to when fact is fact. But I can't. This relationship is too important to my parents.

"I'm telling you I'm not gay or ready for this. Let's just drop it," I said.

I could tell she wasn't happy with my response but she decided to let it go. She persuaded me to sit on the couch with her while we watched one of our favorite sitcoms in silence except for the occasional laughter on a funny joke.

"Why don't we go have fun tonight?" she turned to me and asked with a lit up smile.

"Okay, what?" I grinned at her.

"Let's go bowling. You love bowling and we haven't gone in a long time."

That actually did sound fun. My first date with Vanessa was at the bowling alley. It was fun because it felt like two friends with no expectations, until she wanted me to kiss her good-night. That was weird.

…

Westerville Bowling Alley was surprisingly not so busy on a Friday night. I quickly paid for Vanessa and me and began to glance around. There were some usual regulars I have talked with before and played a game or two with and then a few adult couples…then there was a group that catched my eye; a group of kids about Vanessa's age and mine that I've never seen here before.

There was also an open alley next to them.

"Want to join them?" Vanessa asked sweetly, reading my mind.

"Yeah let's do that," I said excitedly as we neared the group.

One was a blond girl in a cheerleader uniform with the words WMHS on the front. Another was a girl dressed in a reindeer sweater and knee high socks crossing her arms at an uninterested boy with a Mohawk. Then there was a quiet, dressed in black, Asian girl and an African-American girl dressed in different neon's with bold hoop earrings.

"Hello, I'm Blaine and this is my girlfriend Vanessa. You guys come here often?" I introduced politely.

The group looked me up and down and a smile appeared on their face. The girl with the reindeer sweater approached me and extended her arm.

"Rachel Berry. We're actually from Lima but our bowling alley was closed tonight. This is Mercedes Jones, Tina Cohen-Chang, Noah Puckerman—"

"Call me Puck."

"—and Britney Pierce," she shook my hand forcefully as she introduced me to her group.

"Why did you have to say our last names?" Mercedes groaned, stepping up beside Rachel.

"So you want to play against us?" Puck spoke up.

I glanced at Vanessa. She seemed to like the idea and nodded. So the seven of us played for dinner; if I lost, I bought the group of kids from Lima whatever they wanted after the game and vice-versa.

We were having a pretty good time. I haven't had this much fun in a long time. I thought that tonight was just going to be another awkward and boring night with Vanessa. But we were all goofing around and getting to know each other, as well as playing our asses off.

It was my turn and getting close to the end of the game. I stepped up and began to pick up the ball I picked out. It's a shiny blue one that I always pick out every time I come here. It's my favorite one.

I stood correct and began to focus on the pins and which way my body would move, when suddenly, my feet were being kicked out from under me and my ass hit the hard, wood, floor with a thump!

My favorite ball rolled into the gutter.

I looked up to see who had rudely made me lose my balance.

I looked up into the face of a tall, broad-shouldered boy, who had the same WMHS words on his letterman jacket as Britney's cheerleader uniform.

"Excuse me? Who do you think you are?" I quickly stood but stopped short. Literally, he's taller than me.

"Karofsky, leave him alone! Why are you here?" Mercedes rushed over to my side next to Vanessa.

"You think I don't know why you left the bowling alley in Lima? I just like to make you losers shake in your socks. Fortunately I've also found a new loser." The jock, Karofsky obviously, looked down at me with a smirk.

"I am not a loser and neither are these guys. We started playing together and were having a good time until you decided to show up." I stood my ground.

"I thought Lima's bowling alley was closed…" Vanessa trailed off.

"Dude, I'm on the same team as you! Take this crap somewhere else!" Puck sighed.

Karofsky didn't bother to reply to Vanessa or Puck though. His cold eyes just stared into me, judging me; he then shook his head as he watched me flinch when Vanessa gripped my arm.

"You're hiding something," he stated.

"And you aren't? Every bully has something to hide." I raised my eyebrows at him, challenging him.

"Enjoy your time here losers, there's a slushy awaiting each of you on Monday," Karofsky broadcasted before leaving the bowling alley.

I stood there with a tight look on my face as he walked away. The kids from Lima looked horrified and insecure. How can they let him push them around like this? Especially the Puck guy who is on the same football team as him apparently?

"You can't let him push you guys around like that," I told them.

The Asian, Tina, shook her head. "You don't know what he's capable of."

"I guarantee you that his bark is worse than his bite. He seems like an insecure boy lashing out." I shrugged as Vanessa nodded agreeing with me.

Mercedes seemed to flare up. "Then how did he attack my best friend and now he's in the hospital here? Talking to a psychiatrist and not leaving for 'research purposes'?" She stood three inches from my face.

I gasped.

Kurt.

Something grew inside of me. Maybe it was hate, anger, surprise, or all three. But now I wished I could go into that school to see what is happening to these students.