Blaine Anderson was having a good day.
After revealing to Kurt that he'd transferred to McKinley, they'd gone to class together where they'd proceeded to pass notes all throughout, as they'd already taken a similar class at Dalton. So far, he'd only gotten lost once, before a helpful Glee member – Tina, he thought – had pointed him in the right direction.
Now, he was on his way to meet Kurt for lunch. That was when everything went downhill. Not looking where he was going, he missed the group of jocks headed his way, and the tell-tale cups in their hands. He only gained awareness after they'd dumped the cups' contents on him.
Standing alone in the hallway, resembling a rainbow as he dripped a multitude of slushie flavors on the floor, Blaine had never felt worse about himself. Kurt and other New Direction members had shared their various horror stories about slushie facials they'd received in the past, but he hadn't listened – he hadn't believed. Now, he did. He understood the humiliation that came when no one offered assistance. He understood what it meant to feel the liquid dripping down his back, staining everything in its path. He understood the pain of trying to see and being unable to.
I want Kurt, he thought desperately.
Kurt Hummel was having a good day.
His boyfriend had transferred schools to be with him, and he couldn't be happier. He felt like he was floating on air. He wanted to sing at the top of his lungs and shout from the tallest building, all to let the world know that Blaine loved him enough to make what was the ultimate sacrifice for a teenager. There was a spring in his step as he made his way to meet Blaine for lunch. What he found instead caused his heart to leap to his throat and his stomach to form uncomfortable knots: Blaine, standing in the middle of the hallway, motionless, and drenched in slushie.
"Blaine?" said Kurt cautiously, not wanting to startle his boyfriend, but wanting to let him know that they were now together.
"Kurt," whispered Blaine. And if Kurt's heart hadn't already broken, the whimper Blaine gave after saying his name would have.
"It's alright, honey," said Kurt reassuringly, the endearment slipping naturally from his lips. "I'm here. Let's get you cleaned up, okay? I have some supplies in my locker, and the bathroom is right across the hall."
Mechanically, Kurt entered his locker combination. He knew the effect one's first slushie could have on a person, and he needed to talk to Blaine soon, before the feelings of worthlessness fully set in. Knowing that there would be paper towels in the bathroom, he only bothered to grab a fresh shirt and clean towels.
"Okay, let's go," he said, gently touching Blaine to guide him in the direction of the bathroom door.
Numbly, Blaine followed where Kurt led. Though, granted, if he'd had more self-awareness, he would have realized that he would have followed Kurt anyway – he always would.
Directing Blaine to the sink, Kurt gently bent his head over and began to run the faucet over Blaine's curls, which were beginning to be loosened from the gel Blaine insisted on plastering them with.
"I like your hair natural," Kurt murmured as he shut off the water and offered Blaine a towel, which he took gratefully.
Blaine rubbed methodically at his face, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill down his cheeks.
"Now, for the shirt," said Kurt, withdrawing a spare from his bag with a flourish. "Be prepared to bring a change of clothes. That's the first thing McKinley High losers learn."
Hardly aware of what he was doing, Blaine pulled off the now-ruined shirt he was wearing. He was so distracted that he missed his boyfriend's wide-eyed expression at the sight of him shirtless. Looking up, he found Kurt's gaze locked on him, and he realized what he must look like.
Though his upper body was toned – years of playing football with his dad had paid off – the boys that had attacked him and his date after the Sadie Hawkins dance had left their mark. His body was now littered with unsightly scars. As this was the first time either he or Kurt had ever removed any of their clothes while in the other's presence, he wouldn't blame Kurt for dumping him that very moment. Why would someone as beautiful and unique and brave as Kurt willingly choose to be with someone as cowardly and ordinary and ugly as him?
"Blaine …" Kurt whispered under his breath.
"I know they're … ugly," said Blaine, looking down at the ground, too scared to meet Kurt's eyes. "I wouldn't blame you for leaving. I must look a sight."
"Stop that right now, Blaine Anderson," Kurt demanded, and Blaine looked up in shock, caught by surprise at the utter fierceness in Kurt's voice. "You are absolutely beautiful to me, and the only way I'm leaving is if you order me to."
"Never," Blaine breathed.
"I love you, and your scars are a sign of your strength, not your weakness. You were brave enough to go to a dance with another guy, and though you paid the price, you didn't stop being yourself. You say you ran. I say you were being smart. Did you think that I ran, last year, when Karofsky threatened me?"
As Blaine shook his head, Kurt continued, "You went to Dalton when things got to be too tough at your old school, just like with me. But that doesn't mean we're cowards. We simply choose to fight the battles that we know we can win."
"God, what would I do without you?" Blaine whispered as he threw himself at Kurt. Deftly catching him in his arms, Kurt held him close and offered what comfort he could.
However, they were still teenage boys, and Blaine's lack of clothes was starting to affect them both.
"Blaine, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I need you to put a shirt on," said Kurt in a choked voice.
"Oh, right," said Blaine, at last remembering his state of dress. Once he had donned the shirt that Kurt had provided for him, he stepped back into the warmth and safety of the taller boy's embrace. "I love you, Kurt," he whispered into his chest.
"I love you too, Blaine Warbler," he replied, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's still-slightly-damp brow. "Now let's get out there and show those Neanderthals that they can't touch us or what we have."
Blaine smiled as he heard Kurt repeat his words from Prom the previous year. Not daring to hold hands, but walking so close that their shoulders were touching, they made their way to Glee practice with their heads held high. They refused to let others dictate who they could and could not be with. They were their own persons, and nothing and no one was going to tear them apart.