Kurt has never been a very sexual person. It's not that he isn't mature enough or anything, at least he's pretty sure that's not it, it's just that sex has never really interested him all that much. When Kurt thinks about boys, he thinks about hugs and big arms and romantic dinners. He thinks about sweet, close-mouthed kisses and stimulating conversations. Sex is never a part of his daydreams. That doesn't change when he starts dating Blaine who is chivalrous and beautiful and everything Kurt's ever wanted in a boyfriend. They go on dates that are stunningly romantic and they cuddle for hours. Kurt would have been completely content keep things at that level of physical intimacy forever, but it also turns out that while Kurt's not really interested in sex; Blaine really is. He's sweet about it, like he is about everything, but he really wants it. And, well, Kurt figures that's normal and it feels good to be wanted so it doesn't take long before they do it. It feels good, kind of, to have Blaine inside him, close to him. It's not really arousing or anything, but it feels good on an emotional level. Like he's giving something to Blaine and that's bringing them even closer together.
Most of the time, his sexuality, or lack there-of, doesn't bother him. He has a healthy sex life, a happy boyfriend and while his orgasms are few and far in-between he's pretty happy about his current situation. He's never really cared for orgasms anyway. But there are times where this particular part of his personality has gotten him into trouble. Really messed things up for him. Because Kurt isn't interested in stuff like that, he tends to have problems figuring out when other people are being sexual, or even worse, when he himself is sending out vibes that imply sexual attraction. Like that entire Finn fiasco. Kurt had been stunned when he realized that Finn honestly believed that Kurt had wanted to share a room with him so he could get Finn naked. And his not-so-subtle accusations of sexual harassment had been even worse. He couldn't for the life of him see where he had sent out those kinds of signals, but it had apparently been obvious to everyone else. Or that other time, when Sam had called him out on being creepy by talking to him while in the shower. That had been beyond awkward and more than a little embarrassing.
In retrospect he's pretty sure he should have seen this coming. That, somehow, this wouldn't have happened had he been able to pick up the sexual vibes from the man that had changed everything. He'd been so stupid. He'd done nothing but fuck up that entire day. It had started in the morning when he'd fought with Blaine over the phone. He can't remember what it was about anymore, though. It seems so insignificant now, sitting on the concrete with only a thin jacket shielding him from the cold. It was probably about something stupid. Probably his fault. Kurt shifts a little and winces at sharp pain radiating throughout his body at the movement. He feels sick. And stupid.
He had gone back to Lima for the weekend. He'd felt more comfortable in his own skin and more confident than ever and it had made him take some chances he wouldn't have before. Chances he would make sure to never take again. He had been stupid. So terribly naïve. His friends from glee club had asked him to meet them at the choir room that day. Apparently they'd been allowed to use it during the weekend and they wanted to spend some time with him like in the old days. After the fight with Blaine Kurt had been happy and in need of a distraction and he'd decided that he wanted to walk there by foot. He hadn't been getting proper exercise since he quit the cheerios and it would be good for him to get some fresh air. He'd assumed it was safe. That Karofsky and the others would be no where near the school on a free day. He'd been se optimistic and distracted and wrong. They had been there. And they'd hurt him. And it never would have happened if he hadn't been so god damn stupid.
They didn't do anything too bad. Nothing they hadn't done before. Just grabbed him, taunted him with slurs and insults. They'd messed up his clothes and roughed him up a bit. It had only lasted about 10 minutes and then they were gone again. He'd been left on the hard concrete of the school parking lot, but he was alive and breathing and not too badly hurt. His hat had been irreversibly damaged and they'd taken his shoes, but other than that it was just a couple of scratches and a bruised ego. Nothing he didn't know how to deal with. He should have been okay. He should have just gone home or to his friends. He should have, but he didn't.
Kurt had felt pathetic and small and irrationally upset. He hadn't wanted to face his friends like this, not while he still had tears in his eyes and bruises on his arms and he'd just told them he was doing so well. Didn't want to see anyone, not Blaine or his Dad or Carole. So when an old employee of his father had suddenly appeared and offered him a ride; Kurt had accepted. Jason was nice a nice person, a good man, like his father used to say. He'd started working at the garage when Kurt was thirteen to help pay for his mothers hospital bills. He'd been the youngest person working there at the time and Kurt had bonded with him easily over cars and bad school experiences. Kurt had never, ever, thought that Jason would be capable of something as cruel as what he did. Forcing someone to do something they didn't want to. Forcing someone to have sex. Rape. Jason just wasn't the type of person to do things like that. Rapists were supposed to be ugly and old and creepy. They were supposed to be violent and cruel monsters. That what he'd always been taught at school. Rapists didn't work themselves into exhaustion to help their sick mothers. They didn't have two puppies named Jello and Biscuit and silly flower tattoos. They didn't dance around to Spanish folk music or have strange obsessions with cartoons. Rapists weren't supposed to be human. You were supposed to be able to tell them apart from others and know who they were so you could avoid them. And that's where his uncertainty kicks in. What if it had been obvious? Maybe Jason had been sexual and creepy this entire time and Kurt just hadn't been able to pick up on it. Maybe everyone else had seen it and had been laughing at him this entire time, thinking he deserved it. Maybe he did.
He can still remember it vividly, those hours. They'd talked and Jason had suggested they go to his place. It wasn't far and it had been long time since they'd seen each other. Kurt had agreed. Stupid. It had been nice at first. They had drunk some beer and talked, not enough to get wasted or anything, just pleasantly buzzed. And then the atmosphere had gradually started changing. Jason had put a hand on Kurt's thigh to emphasize something he said and never removed it. Kurt had felt uncomfortable, but hadn't commented on it. Then he'd placed the other hand on Kurt's chest and everything had gone downhill from there. He can still hear his own voice as Jason pushes him onto the couch. His own voice saying no, I don't want this. Then Jason's lips had been on his, warm and wet and Kurt had felt awkward and a little scared. He remembers protesting once more and being held down forcibly, the sound of a zipper being undone remarkably loud in the empty apartment.
'You came here for this, right?'
He hadn't. He hadn't come there for sex. And that's what he says to Jason, trying to free his hands from the older mans grip.
'Liar. There's no other reason for you to come home with me, to flirt with me like that.'
He hadn't flirted. Had he? The thought that he'd brought this upon himself was suffocating. He felt sick. And then his pants were being ripped off and he couldn't think of anything else. He had felt limp and unresponsive, unable to really fight back even as Jason's fingers were pushing up and in, slick with lube. It felt disgusting. It wasn't until Jason was lifting his thighs and he felt something much bigger push at his entrance that he'd been able to say something again. To protest. It hadn't worked.
'Please stop. It hurts. I have a boyfriend. It hurts…'
And it had hurt. Not excruciatingly, but badly enough that he was having problems forming full sentences of any kind. Being with Blaine had never felt like that. He may not like sex much, but with Blaine he'd felt safe and happy, if a little bored at times. With Jason he felt scared and cowardly and disgusting.
It had ended pretty quickly after that. Jason had finished and pulled out, leaving Kurt lying on the couch feeling cold and used and empty. He remembers getting up and dressing, remembers Jason's eyes on him as he pulls up his jeans. And he remembers Jason's last words.
'You're kind of a lousy lay, you know. Just lying there like that.'
He can't remember leaving the apartment, though, or walking to where he is now, sitting on the cold ground about 4 blocks away from Jason's house. He isn't sure how long he's sat there either, but if the darkening sky is any indication; it's been a while. He feels lost and incredibly uncertain when he finally pulls out his phone. He has over 14 missed calls; all from his New Direction friends. It feels like centuries ago that he'd been cornered by Karofsky and his gang in the McKinley parking lot. Like it had all happened in another life. The life before Jason. He sits there for a good minute just staring blankly at the screen in front of him. He dimly registers that he needs to get to a doctor. He isn't bleeding or anything (And that's another thing that's different from everything he's ever learned about rape), but Jason hadn't used a condom and he needs to get checked out. He needs to tell someone. So he does the only thing he can think of; he calls Blaine. Blaine is safe and strong. He'll know what to do. Blaine will make things okay again, he'll fix this. He always does. Courage.