In which Sebastian talks shit about Kurt, so Blaine punches Sebastian, so Sebastian punches Blaine, so Kurt punches Sebastian.
{ Nothing is mine. }
"Safe With Me"
It's not too bad, actually. He walks away with his cheek red and covered with scrapes, some cuts on his bottom lip, a black eye, and bruised knuckles. It could have been worse.
Blaine Anderson is Blaine Anderson, and Blaine Anderson does not let anyone talk badly about his Kurt. Especially not Sebastian Smythe.
So he sits on the bathroom counter, wearing only a pair of Kurt's sweatpants that are really baggy and really warm and really perfect. And Kurt's there, and he's taking care of him, dabbing at his cuts with a washcloth, and he's always there. He's Blaine's best friend, his love, and he can take all the broken pieces and mend them back together with a touch of his fingertips.
"I – I can't believed you punched him. That's... it's not like you. He could've – could've hurt you, baby." Kurt says, then swallows hard. He looks so worried and Blaine's chest aches, all he wants to do is take his boy in his arms and kiss it all away. He already tried that, though. Four times. Kurt keeps insisting that he has to clean him up first, and then they'll cuddle, and Blaine's holding him to it.
"It's not unlike me." Blaine's voice is quiet. He winces when the washcloth soothes over a particularly painful scrape. "I'd do anything for you. I hope – I hope you know that. I'd tie myself to train tracks. Push you out of the way and take one bullet, two bullets, three... doesn't really matter how many. I'd walk hundreds of miles, take the world in my hands and give it to you, get rid of my bow ties. All of them."
"What about your hair gel?"
"I'd burn it."
It's overwhelmingly and horrendously difficult for Kurt to keep from wrapping his arms around Blaine's tiny waist, from leaning in and letting himself nuzzle his nose to Blaine's neck, from moving to his soft, pink lips and kissing him, kissing him like he hasn't gotten to since Blaine left this morning. That was six hours ago. Six hours, and forty-one minutes, and three seconds. Much too long.
Kurt wants to, so much, but. He doesn't.
"I love you." He says instead, pecking his nose, then his forehead, then his jawline until he has his love giggling and happy and looking like an actual angel. Or a cupcake. Both. Definitely both. "I really – god, I really do. So much."
"So, so, so much." Blaine whispers back, his breath hitching because he looks into Kurt's beautiful eyes for a moment, and he falls in love every time he does.
They're quiet for a moment. Kurt cleans up the cut on his Blaine's lip, Blaine studies Kurt's cute face.
"What did he say?" Kurt asks eventually, biting gently down on his bottom lip. "You never told me."
"Please don't make me repeat it." It looks like the thought actually pains him, and his fingertips are shaking, and it's just... heartbreaking, and Kurt wishes he'd never said anything at all. "He was an asshole, and saying asshole things about my baby, and I. I couldn't have it."
Kurt nods slowly. Not even a second passed before he was taking Blaine in his arms, crouching down a bit so he can just hold him, hold him as tight as he possibly can. Blaine clings to him without a thought, and his intake of breath is sharp as soon as he feels those gorgeous arms around him. It's home. He wants to stay home for a very, very long time. Forever wouldn't even begin to describe it.
"You don't have to say anything, okay?" Kurt pulls away. The air feels so cold around him as soon as he does, and he's hoping Blaine doesn't see when he actually shivers. "Just let me take care of you. I'm almost done."
"And then you'll let me cuddle you?"
"No." Kurt tells him. "I'm cuddling you, and there will be Netflix and popcorn and warm blankets provided."
Blaine smiles, the smile that's reserved just for him, and Kurt thinks he looks – so, so beautiful.
"Sounds perfect."
And Blaine thinks that nothing could possibly ruin this day for him, because he's going to spend its entirety as his Kurt's little spoon, ticking his love's sides and kissing his nose and making him blush. But it's only then that Blaine realizes Kurt's been doing absolutely everything with his right hand, keeping his left in the pocket of his jeans. So he tugs on Kurt's arm a bit, and looks at his hand, and his heart actually drops to the pit of his stomach.
"You didn't – you didn't go to the pharmacy." Blaine mumbles, because that's where Kurt told him he went a few minutes after Blaine told him what happened with Sebastian, but. He knows. He knows his boy a lot better than that. Also, Kurt's knuckles have cuts on them, they're blue and black and also a bit red. Blaine aches, just looking at it. He aches.
Kurt bites his lip, sighing softy. "I did, but. That wasn't the, uh. The only place I went."
"You hit Sebastian." Blaine says, even though he doesn't give a damn about that. "Tell me he didn't hit you back. Please. Please tell me – "
"He didn't, love." Kurt whispers, leaning in and pressing a soothing kiss to Blaine's forehead, and then placing his lips so gently, softly, sweetly on each cut, each scrape, each bruise. "But I couldn't – I couldn't just not do anything. He hurt my baby."
They hug. They hug, and Kurt thinks he's going to cry, but then Blaine rests his head against his chest, closes his eyes and listens to his heartbeat and everything is okay.
"You're safe with me." Kurt whispers.
Blaine nuzzles his nose into that one spot on Kurt's neck, and he smells him. Because Kurt always smells like vanilla and cinnamon buns and red roses and cologne and rain and nonfat mochas. Blaine is in love with it. In love with him. Every single time, whether it's a quick hug or a long embrace – Kurt holds him like nothing is ever going to hurt him, like he's so damn precious, like the thought of letting go makes his beautiful heart hurt.
So Blaine says, "I know."
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