Together
AN: Err… I wrote this late last night and finished it today, but it's a tad… rough. It's written awkwardly and the sentences are kind of clunky, but I've had writers block all month, so when the opportunity arose to actually write, I was happy, even if this kind of sucks.
POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS for mentions of self-harm, child abuse, homophobia
ASSUMED PRE-KLAINE (which I don't normally write, but this story has a lot of things I don't normally write, so…)
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Blaine took a shaky breath, reaching for his phone. It was right in front of him, yet seemed miles away he was trembling so violently, his body protesting his every movement with shots of pain racing across his shoulders and down his back with each movement of his arm.
He finally grabbed the device, smiling in triumph.
He sent a quick text saying simply 'I need you'. That was all it needed to say.
His arms dropped, exhausted. He wanted to curl into himself, to make himself small and less vulnerable, but he knew it would only hurt more if he tried, so he refrained.
Once he got here, everything would be okay. It always was.
Blaine hummed happily to himself at the thought. Despite the horrible circumstances, the thought of spending time with the other boy made him smile.
He forced his eyes open, no matter how much he wanted to close them and give in to the promising abyss it would surly bring. He had had enough head injuries to know not to fall asleep unless he wanted to end up in a coma.
At one time the extended sleep would've appealed to him, but not anymore. Not now that he had Kurt Hummel in his life
XxXxX
"Oh, honey," the angelic voice Blaine had been waiting on sighed as the pale boy gently brushed his figures through Blaine's sporadic curls.
Blaine leaded into the touch, letting out a whimper of pain when the movement irritated the bruises on his back.
"Can you show me where you're hurt, baby?" Kurt asked, beautiful green/blue eyes (which Blaine could sometimes even find flex of gold in) gazing heavily into Blaine's own caramel orbs as he sat down next to him on the bed. He sounded resigned, but the worry and care laced into his tone assured Blaine that Kurt wasn't helping him out of obligation or pity, but a genuine care for his wellbeing that Blaine hadn't been familiar with before he and Kurt met.
Blaine attempted to sit up, his whole body straining with the effort. He took in a few gasped breaths before Kurt swiftly curled an arm around the shorter boy's middle and helped him the rest of the way.
Blaine slumped against Kurt's side, hating that he was so weak, yet loving the feel of Kurt's comforting warmth against his side while he regained his breath.
"M-my back" he explained to Kurt while said boy's long fingers smoothed through his hair comfortingly. "And I'm pretty sure I hit the back of my head." There was a long silence. Then he continued "I was pushed down the stairs this time"
Kurt noticeably winced, but quickly recovered, helping the hazel eyed boy tug up his shirt to get to the bruised skin underneath. Taking shirts off had stopped being embarrassing and they had both stopped being ashamed of what was hidden long ago.
Kurt sucked in a breath at the sight of the other boy's back, no doubt covered in purple marks, or at least getting there. It wasn't an unusual occurrence for Blaine, yet Kurt always seemed surprised by how hurt he was.
Kurt silently reached into his bag to pull out ointments and ice packs. He got to work on doing his best to help the discolored flesh heal, only talking to tell Blaine he had a lump on the back of his head, but nothing serious, and to shush and reassure Blaine when he winced or hissed when Kurt came into contact with his injuries.
When the taller was done he kissed the top of Blaine's head sweetly and laid them on their sides so they were facing each other.
"Hi" Kurt said quietly.
Blaine couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face at the adorableness of the boy in front of him. "Hi" he replied before raising his arms slowly as to not irritate his back as much. It was a clear invitation to cuddle.
Kurt got the message and tucked his head under Blaine's chin, snuggling into his chest with a happy sigh, not seeming to care that his arms were trapped between them. Blaine lowered his arms so he could play with the short brunette locks of the other male's hair. Neither minded that Blaine was still shirtless. They barley even noticed.
The only thing Blaine really noticed was how Kurt fit into his arms as though he were a part of him.
"Did you cut?" Blaine asked gently.
He felt Kurt shake his head 'no' against his chest. "Not today"
Blaine smiled and kissed Kurt's hair in praise. "I'm so proud of you, sweetie" he told him. He knew Kurt hadn't stopped cutting all together; Kurt often stopped for a few days only to pick up again. But he always praised Kurt when he stopped, however briefly, because he knew it was better than when they had first met and Kurt had been self-harming every day.
He felt Kurt bury himself further in his embrace and rubbed his back calmingly, wincing when the movement jolted his bruises.
Blaine had no idea when this as started. They weren't lovers-you couldn't even classify them as friends-but somehow they knew each other better than anyone else did.
They never talked in school, making a silent agreement Blaine's freshmen year of high school that if the two only openly gay kids at McKinley spoke their bullying would only get worse.
Blaine hadn't even known Kurt's last name until the previous year.
He had been tripped by an idiotic jock who left with a parting "fag" (in full view of a teacher, mind, who didn't seem to care) and his shirt had ridden up to reveille the broken skin on his back. He had heard a quiet gasp before he was, to his surprise, being helped to his feet by a gorgeous pale figure.
They stared into each other's eyes, unable to look away. Blaine saw pain in Kurt's eyes that he had never noticed before. The torment they reflected reminded him uncomfortably of himself, and before he realized what he was doing he asked "Are you okay?"
Kurt had laughed the same guarded laugh Blaine used on the rare occasion someone asked him something personal. Blaine didn't like hearing someone else use it, especially someone so beautiful. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" Kurt quipped.
Blaine shifted his feet awkwardly. "Well, I'm used to those jerks by now, so..."
The taller male's eyes hardened. "I've been bullied by these idiots as long as I can remember," Blaine winced at that, and at the bitterness in Kurt's tone. "But I've never seen them do something that would make an injury like that." Kurt hissed, gesturing to the general vicinity of Blaine's lower back. His expression softened, but if it was because of Blaine's nervous mask or sympathy, Blaine wasn't sure. "Do your parents hit you, Blaine?"
No one had ever asked him that directly and Blaine was a horrible liar when the question was put so blatantly with no chance of changing the subject.
He bit his lip. He felt compelled to tell Kurt everything, to just scream his problems at the top of his lungs so the boy-so someone knew. After being alone so long, the feeling scared him.
But he saw a kindred spirit in Kurt's eyes, and that gave him the courage to nod just enough for Kurt to see. Maybe Kurt could help him. Maybe he could finally have a friend…
Then, something strange happened. Kurt didn't coo in sympathy or attempt to touch him. He gave a small smile and said "I'm glad you told me-now you have someone to help you"
Blaine stared at the glasz eyed boy in wonder. "Why?" he asked quietly. It was all he could think to say. No one had ever wanted to help him before. Not even his own parents liked him, so why would some stranger?
"Because you remind me of myself" Kurt explained, crossing his arms absently. "Your eyes-they have the same fear as mine," He steeled himself before continuing softer "and they're as lost as mine too"
Blaine sucked in a breath. "Do your parents..." he couldn't say it. The thought of it happening to himself was fine-normal, but thinking of someone else getting hurt the same way he was made his chest constrict horribly. Blaine deserved what he got, but Kurt (from what he had observed from afar and their conversation) was sweet and kind, and sort of amazing.
"No," Kurt responded simply, hugging his arms tighter around himself as though he was fighting off some invisible force.
"Oh," Blaine sighed, half in relief and half in disappointment. Kurt didn't know what he was going through after all. But then why were they so similar?
"I just..." Kurt paused, taking in a long breath. Blaine could visibly see him gathering his courage. "I just hate myself" he said quietly.
Somehow they had ended up exchanging phone numbers with promises to call if things got bad. They weren't going through the same thing, not really, but they needed someone. Someone with similar pain behind their eyes.
Eventually, the calls became a frequent thing, and then even daily. Blaine would call after he was beaten, or Kurt would call shaking and sobbing from the bathroom floor, blood flowing from self-inflicted cuts.
Sometimes they would talk about Blaine's home life. Other times Kurt showed Blaine his cuts and told him the story behind each one. And then there were the times Blaine liked best, the times when they talked about inconsequential things and somehow managed to laugh together.
He had no idea when they had evolved to pet names and gentle kisses everywhere but where Blaine wanted them, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. Even though they still ignored each other at school and weren't really friends...
"What are you thinking about so loudly?" Kurt teased, his breath fanning over Blaine's chest, pulling him from his musings.
"Us," Blaine answered simply. "How we met and everything that's happened since." He could feel the pale boy's lips quirk upwards from where they pressed against his skin.
Kurt placed a small kiss over his heart. "I'm so glad I stopped to help you that day" he whispered. His voice sounded so small, and Blaine knew Kurt meant that he was glad for both of them, neither knowing where they'd be without the other.
Blaine's heart swelled with an indescribable feeling. What they went through was terrible, but at the same time it had brought them together, and that he wouldn't trade for the world. "Me too" he replied honestly.
He nuzzled into Kurt's hair, breathing in sweet jasmine and vanilla and something purely Kurt. He wanted to drown in the scent that had come to mean 'safety' and 'home' over the past year more than his own house ever did.
"You should see a professional" Blaine whispered. God, he just wanted Kurt to get better so bad; he wanted those glimpses he got of the snarky, caring, charming man to be out on display, not hidden away by depression.
"I know" Kurt replied distantly. A small silence, then "You should call child services so you can be free to worry about stupid things like test grades and peer pressure." he countered.
"I know" Blaine sighed.
They had had this conversation before, but still things stayed the same. Blaine was scared of what would happen to him if he told, and Kurt... Well, Blaine was almost certain Kurt didn't want to disappoint his father, who was all he had left, and most days it seemed like Kurt didn't want to get better.
Blaine sighed heavily at the thought. He hated that Kurt did that to himself, hated that he could do nothing but be there for him, hated that he couldn't protect Kurt from those damn insecurities buzzing around his head.
Blaine kissed the other boy's forehead, more to calm himself than anyone else.
Maybe someday they would be free, Blaine of his father and Kurt of his depression, but until then, at least they had each other. Blaine hopped they could someday be together truly, at the very least as friends, but that was just wishful thinking. It seemed everything in his life rested on wishful thinking…
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If someone, for some unfathomable reason, actually ENJOYS the idea of this story, tell me and I'll make it a multi-chap where Klaine actually gets together and they fully address their problems and such. It'll probably be only two or three chapters IF that happens, but if you want to see how it plays out it's up to you. I could leave it like this or do more; I don't care one way or the other.