Summary: When Karofsky's abuse turns from physical to sexual, will Kurt ever be able to find a safe haven again?

ooooooooooooo

The house was empty. Finn had yet to return home and Burt and Carole had gone out for the evening. They would not be back for several more hours. Kurt had never been so grateful for the emptiness. He had driven home in a daze, one hand pressed to his slightly swollen, trembling lips the entire time. His whole body had been shaking, it still was, but luckily, he had made it home safely. He had managed to pull himself together enough to act normal once he entered the house, only to be greeted by a note confirming that he would have the place to himself for a while yet. And with it, the fragile mask he had managed to put together fell apart. His skin was currently red – the spots where he had grabbed him still stung faintly, but Kurt was not at all bothered by it now. He felt clean – well at least, cleaner than he was when he had first entered that bathroom. The swelling of his lips was more pronounced and they were a far deeper shade of red than they had been initially, but he did not care. His gums were stinging and Kurt could still feel the slightly metallic taste of blood from where he had brushed too hard.

It had not helped.

He still felt it.

He still felt the crushing press of those hard, dry lips on his. He had gone through nearly a quarter bottle of mouthwash and still, the taste of the cafeteria chilli lingered on his breath from where that fat, slippery tongue had forced its way into his mouth when he had gasped in surprise. He had been helpless, oh so helpless while his mouth had been ruthlessly plundered by his worst tormentor. He recalled the look of pure hatred in his eyes when he had pulled away (although he was not certain that it was directed solely at him). He had made to kiss him again, and though Kurt had recoiled, the jock had easily slapped his hands away, pulling him back into his grasp before taking what he willed from him, while Kurt struggled, trying and failing to push him off him, finally just remaining there plaint until he had had his fill of him, pushing him away from him with such force that Kurt landed in a crumpled heap near a locker, where he remained for an indefinite time until he had composed himself enough to get up and make his way out of the school.

That left him in his current position.

He had dug out his childhood quilt, regardless of the fact that it was still technically summer. It was a comforting weight around him as he lay curled into a tight ball on his bed, completely covered by it. It was silly yes, but he felt safe in its embrace – well as safe as he could feel given the situation. What would he do? How could he go to school in the morning after this? He – he was bound to come after him and unless Kurt told someone about what had been done to him, he would have to face the bully on his own. He had mustered all the courage he had had within him that afternoon when he had run after him into that locker room, but Kurt knew he would never be able to look at the stocky boy in the eyes again, far less be able to defend himself against him. He had won. Kurt was afraid, deathly afraid of him, and what he could do to him. The violence was one thing. Kurt barely handled it, but still, he survived. This though, this invasion on a most personal front was something he could not deal with.

Kurt's breath hitched at the thought and he curled even tighter into himself as a whimper escaped his lips. He had robbed him of something that Kurt treasured so badly. Brittany did not count; that had been a charade in a failed attempt at being straight. This though, this one counted and Kurt did not know how he would deal with it. It was something so precious, his first male kiss. It was sappy yes, but he had envisioned how it would be, a soft, sweet lingering caress that made his face flush and his heart beat a little faster. Oh, his heart rate had increased, but not at all in the way that Kurt wanted it too.

A sudden burst of music startled him, and inadvertently, a cry passed his lips before it registered to him that it was his phone. Someone had texted him. Kurt freed himself enough to look at his cell phone, once more silent. He didn't even recall picking it back up after it had been knocked from his hand. It was probably Blaine. After all, he had not yet responded to the text he had sent him. It was silly yes, but Blaine randomly texted him "Courage", especially on the days he knew Kurt did not share many classes with his friends. It was sweet and never failed to bring a smile to his lips. The longer Kurt stared at the phone, the more he calmed as his thoughts lingered on the handsome teenager who had came into his life so suddenly, but whom he had quickly come to depend on. Blaine. He had told him that he could always talk to him, no matter the time or place.

Blaine.

He could talk to Blaine. Blaine, whose warm sultry voice always washed over him in a way that made him feel safe and protected. It was silly, he should not feel this way for someone he knew so little about but he did. He trusted Blaine in a way he trusted no one else. Blaine would know what to do. Blaine could stop him from feeling this way. Blaine would be able to help him feel clean once again. Before he even realised it, Kurt had raised himself into a sitting position, reaching out with a slightly trembling hand for the black phone, even as the other one pulled the blanket closer to him.

The words of the text message didn't even register to him. Instead he tapped a few keys, and in a moment, he watched as the phone dialled the teenager before he struggled to keep the phone pressed to his ear.

A few seconds later, Blaine's cheerful, warm tones met his ears.

Kurt's lips parted.

He meant to say hello.

He meant to say something.

However, the moment Blaine asked him "How are you?" he broke down.

Falling back against his pillows he started sobbing uncontrollably, tears pouring down his face. And through it all he heard Blaine's voice, first frantic and worried, and finally soft and soothing, as the boy crooned soft words of nothingness to him until he could bring himself under control.

It was the first time Blaine had heard him cry, and a week later, it would be the first time he saw him do it.

ooooooooooooo

Blaine hadn't yet returned from a weekend at home when Kurt arrived at Dalton, a box in his arms and hope in his heart for a new beginning.

He was not there when, after a brief consultation, the dorm master had put him into the Warbler's room seeing that they were already friends. Blaine was not there when Burt had left him with a last crushing hug. But he was there to see the look of vulnerability on Kurt's face when he opened the bedroom door and saw him seated on his bed, a washed out quilt wrapped around him. He was there to see the shaky smile Kurt gave him even as his eyes watered.

Blaine was the only one who knew the entire truth, the only one to know that even now, Kurt's lips and gums were still tender because he still abused them in an effort to rid himself of the taste. He was the only one who knew why Kurt flinched whenever someone taller and bulkier entered his personal space – his father and step-brother included. And Blaine was the only one to instinctively know what he needed.

The Warbler said nothing as he made his way to where Kurt sat, absentmindedly throwing his bag onto his own bed before he gently sat down beside the smaller boy. Kurt trembled slightly, but otherwise remained still when he reached out and pulled him – quilt and all – into his arms, burying Kurt's head beneath his chin. Kurt stiffened, but only for a moment, before he carefully reached out to curl his fingers into Blaine's shirt, burying his head even deeper against him before he released the tumultuous emotions that had been plaguing him in a torrent of tears. In between his tears he sobbed out his fear, the pain he had felt at being tossed into the locker, the way his body had gone numb when his life had been threatened, the heartfelt relief at his expulsion, the sense of betrayal when that expulsion was overturned, the guilt of his parents' sacrifice for him, and the loss of his friends now that he was here.

And through it all, Blaine just held him, a hand gently trailing through his hair while the other patted his back through the quilt. Eventually the tears ceased, but Kurt made no move to leave his current position, content to absorb the comfort and warmth Blaine was so willingly providing for him. He looked up after a long while, a part of him registering that he probably looked terrible with his reddened, puffy eyes and tear blotched face. But Blaine seemed not to be in the least bit repulsed by him. Indeed, his eyes softened even more as his hands moved to cup his face, his thumbs stroking away his tears.

"Feeling better now sweetheart?" he asked, the pet name rolling easily off his lips.

Kurt's eyes widened at the name, something that caused Blaine to chuckle and stroke his cheeks a bit firmer.

"You're safe now Kurt," he said seriously, although his gaze remained as warm and comforting as ever. "You're safe at Dalton."

"I'm safe with you," Kurt whispered unwittingly, before his breath hitched at what he had said. His words startled both at them, and the smaller teenager lowered his gaze, not wanting to see Blaine's expression. But the thumbs that had briefly stopped stroking his face resumed their motion, and he made a puzzled sound as he felt Blaine shift forward a bit before soft lips pressed themselves gently against his forehead.

"Yes you are," Blaine murmured as he pulled back, tightening his hands a bit to encourage him to meet his eyes once again.

Kurt reluctantly did so, surprised to see that not a single ounce of that warmth had left Blaine's gaze. Indeed, there seemed to be something else in that brown gaze as the Warbler stared at him for long moments. Kurt's fingers slowly released their tight grip on his clothes, creeping up to wrap around the hands cradling his face as he made a questioning sound. His emotions was unstable, his mind confused, but what he was certain about was the fact that Blaine was here and silently offering him something and he was not entirely certain what it was.

"You're safe with me."

For the second time in less than two weeks, Kurt watched as a male's face slowly approached his. But this time he felt no fear as Blaine's face paused millimetres from him so that his breath gently wafted over his skin. Kurt's hands tightened slightly, but not to discourage him. Indeed, the longer Blaine hesitated there, the more Kurt wished that he would do it, that he would remove the stain that he had been fighting to remove from his lips. He made a soft mewling sound, his eyes pleading and it was then that Blaine did it. Kurt's eyes fell close as he experienced his second male kiss. It was completely different. Blaine's lips were shaped different, and he was kissing him gently and carefully, as if his lips were something fragile that must be tended to with care. Tingles ran through him as he moved slightly, gliding his lips across his in a way that had Kurt gasping in delight. Blaine took the invitation, and gently inserted his tongue past the parted lips. Kurt trembled as the tip of his tongue gently traced his teeth, silently urging them to grant him access. There was no hesitation on his part. He needed this; he needed Blaine to completely erase what had been done to him. And so, with a soft whimper, that had Blaine gripping him a bit tighter, he parted his teeth.

Blaine's tongue entered immediately, and Kurt felt his senses becoming overwhelmed as a slightly minty taste registered to him. Finally, finally something was combating the chilli taste that until now he could still taste. Blaine's tongue carefully mapped the contours of his mouth, curling to flick at the roof of his mouth in a way that drew a shuddering moan from him before gliding downwards to playfully tickle at his pliant tongue, prodding it until Kurt moaned again, although he made no move to reciprocate, too engrossed in what he was feeling to take a more active role. Blaine seemed not to mind though and continued to thoroughly but gently dominate his mouth until the desire for air caused him to slowly pull back, flicking his tongue briefly against Kurt's lower lip before fully withdrawing. Kurt's eyes remained closed for long moments as he tried to regain his breath and calm his racing heart. Through it all, Blaine's hands remained, still gently stroking his cheeks.

Finally, he opened his eyes, slightly gratified to see that Blaine's face was lightly flushed, although it was the only sign that he too had been affected by the kiss.

"Is he gone now?" Blaine asked softly.

Kurt blinked in confusion before he understood what he was being asked. Blaine had actually paid attention to his tearful babbling, about how, not matter what he did, he could not get the feel and taste of him off of his body. Kurt quickly took stock of himself, and realised that, for the first time since it had happened, he couldn't feel it. He could not feel the pressure of Karofsky's fingers digging into his flesh, the hotness of his breath and the vile taste of his tongue. Instead, he felt warm and loved. The handsome teenager holding on to him was responsible for that feeling.

"Y-yes," he breathed a smiling twitching at his lips. "I feel...only you Blaine. I feel only you."

"As it should be," Blaine returned, before kissing his forehead once again.

Kurt sighed contentedly, finally releasing his grip on Blaine's hands and moving so that he could bury his head beneath his chin once again. Karofsky may have stolen his first real kiss from him, but Blaine had overcome that, overshadowing that experience with this one, one that he would treasure forever. Blaine was right; he was secure here in Dalton, protected by its policies.

But it was only now that he was cradled in his arms that Kurt truly felt as if he had found a safe haven.