A/N: My first fanfiction ever! I would really appreciate reviews so I know if there's anything I should work on, or if I should even continue writing. I hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or these characters. Or else it would probably just be The Klaine Show.
Making out with Kurt is one of Blaine's favourite things to do. He could never get sick of the soft feeling of their lips moving together and the warmth of Kurt's body pressed flush with his. Of course there are other aspects of their relationship Blaine loves; the coffee dates, talking for hours about anything and everything, the small touches that go unnoticed by anyone but themselves.
At this particular moment, however, Blaine and Kurt are tangled together on Blaine's bed in his dorm room at Dalton, blazers and ties forgotten on the floor, tongues chasing each other and hands searching desperately for any bit of skin they can find. Kurt moves a soft hand from Blaine's wildly messy hair, down his throat, and onto his chest, fumbling with the buttons of Blaine's white uniform shirt. Blaine gasps as Kurt's still-cold fingers brush against his hot skin. Kurt's hands slide expertly from button to button until Blaine's shirt is open, exposing the tan skin of Blaine's chest. Kurt's lips move down to replace his hands, dropping soft kisses along Blaine's stomach. Blaine sighs and it's this, right here, that he wants to keep forever. It's only when Kurt starts to push the shirt over Blaine's shoulders and down his arms to remove it completely that Blaine panics.
He sits up suddenly, yanking his shirt back on and almost knocking Kurt to the floor. Somehow, he doesn't lose sight of Kurt's face, but wishes he had so he wouldn't have to watch the play of emotions flit across it: first confusion, then hurt, finally landing on anger.
"What the fuck was that about, Blaine?" Kurt all but shouts, eyebrows drawing together, breathing heavily. Blaine can still see undertones of hurt in his eyes despite the angry facade he's putting on.
"I...I just can't..." he stutters, stalling for time, trying to think of something to say, sort through everything going on in his mind. He's looking down now, at his hands.
"Blaine..." Kurt reaches over and gently lifts his chin up, "What did I do?"
"Wha-No! No, you didn't do anything, Kurt, this is all me, I'm sorry," Blaine says hurriedly. "You could never do anything wrong, you're perfect. Please, this is me, I'm sorry."
The confusion is back in Kurt's eyes. "What's wrong, then? I can't know if you won't tell me." Blaine jerks his face out of Kurt's grasp and stares at the wall on his right. He can't look into those clear, innocent, sincere eyes and lie.
"Nothing really, just...never mind." he says, starting to rise from the bed. Kurt grabs his arm before he's had the chance to move far, and tugs him back down.
"That's bullshit, Blaine, and you know it," Kurt says. His eyes soften. "You can tell me, you know. You can trust me," he assures him, "just please don't lie to me."
Blaine has never broken down in front of Kurt before. He's always been good at controlling his emotions around others. But Blaine loses it now, curling forward and hugging himself like he might shatter into a million pieces. He doesn't cry, but shakes with dry sobs. Kurt is frozen for just a moment before his arms are around Blaine, rubbing his back, whispering reassurances in his ear and rocking him like a child. Kurt is warm and comforting. He smells subtly of vanilla. Real vanilla. Not the over-powering, sickly sweet stuff they put in cheap perfumes and body sprays, but the pure vanilla extract you use when baking, and it makes Blaine want to bury his face into Kurt's neck and simply breathe in his scent forever. It's the most soothing scent in the world to him.
Unfortunately, once Blaine starts to calm down and his breathing returns to normal, Kurt pulls away. He doesn't move far though, and takes both of Blaine's hands in his. He's silent, waiting for Blaine to speak. Waiting for him to explain.
Blaine knew it would only be a matter of time before Kurt found out. Blaine was surprised he hadn't already. They'd been dating a month, and had been friends even longer. Knowing he can't avoid the inevitable any longer, he slides his shirt back over his shoulders and down his arms until his best-kept secret is completely exposed.
"Blaine..." Kurt gasps as his eyes rake along the long, thin scars covering Blaine's arms like some sort of repulsive tic-tac-toe board. "What happened?"
Taking a shaky breath, Blaine begins. "Remember when you first showed up at Dalton, and I told you I knew how you felt?"
Kurt nods, tearing his eyes away from the strange patterns on Blaine's arms. Blaine worries his bottom lip between his teeth for a second, and then continues.
"I'm not as strong as you are. I went through about half of what you did before I broke down. I couldn't take the name-calling, getting tripped in the halls, nasty notes shoved in my locker... It didn't take much to break me. Like I've said before, I was a coward." Blaine raises his voice a little when he sees Kurt about to interrupt, effectively cutting him off. "No matter how many times you try to deny it, Kurt, it's true. I was a coward. I am a coward. I'll be the first to admit it. I was scared, I didn't know what to do. I was angry and hurt and afraid. I was too cowardly to stand up to the bullies, too proud to go running to a teacher. I should have told my parents then and there what was going on at school, but I didn't. I kept it to myself, all bottled up. I convinced myself that I could handle it.
"Until one day, when I came home from a particularly shitty day at school. The shoving and tripping had been steadily getting worse and worse. No one would talk to me except to spit nasty words in my face. It doesn't seem like much now, not compared to what you've been through, but I was just so sick of it all. I felt so alone. When I got home, I found myself in an empty house with a knife in my hand..."
Kurt flinches but Blaine takes no notice, too caught up in his own memories.
"My anger, my pain, and I guess just the feeling of being so out of control of my life, turned in on me until I just needed to lash out at something. That something happened to be myself.
"I don't know exactly what I was thinking then, but I was in a terrible frame of mind and it seemed right at the time. I was terrified of making that first cut, but once I did I couldn't stop. I got worse and worse. I found ways to get more and more time alone, and the cuts got deeper and deeper. I buried all my short-sleeved shirts in the back of my closet, wore only long sleeves and sweaters. And no one noticed. I think that was the worst part. It was my way of screaming for help, but no one noticed. I didn't have any friends back then, but not even my parents noticed." Blaine's voice breaks and he chokes out a half-sob. Kurt moves to pull him into another hug, but Blaine shakes his head. If he stops talking now, he won't be able to continue. Kurt seems to understand. He bites his lip and leans back.
"In the back of my mind, I guess I wanted someone to figure it out. I started getting careless, not trying to hide it so much. I wanted someone to ask so I could finally confess and end the nightmare, but I wouldn't admit it by myself.
"One day, sprawled out on the bathroom tile, blade in hand, and I remember thinking if I accidentally cut too deep, it wouldn't even matter. I was past the point of caring. That was the day my mother came home early. I didn't hear her come in and so, well…she finally caught me. She freaked out of course. Ended up calling 911. After months of crippling depression and self-harm, she finally figured out something was wrong with me. Months, Kurt, and she didn't notice until she saw it for herself! She didn't notice that her own son hid in his room and slept all day. She didn't notice I'd stopped singing. I was borderline suicidal, and she didn't even notice!" Blaine is hysterical now, his voice much higher than usual and tears flowing freely down his face. Kurt wraps him up in his arms again, quietly shushing him until the sobs and murmurs of she didn't notice subside. Blaine doesn't try to push Kurt away this time, he just collapses until he can breathe. Whether it's minutes or hours until Blaine speaks again, they don't know, but he finally does.
"I told her about the bullying," he continues weakly, his voice muffled against Kurt's shirt. "They pulled me out of school for the last month of the year and sent me to a rehab centre. When I came back, they'd enrolled me at Dalton, because of the no-bullying policy. And...here I am," he finishes lamely, leaning out of the embrace and gesturing to the room around him. He finally looks into Kurt's eyes and sees them shimmering with unshed tears.
"I'm sorry," Kurt says gently.
"You don't have anything to be sorry for, Kurt. The only people to blame are those damn bullies," he pauses for a second. "And me, for being such a coward," he adds quietly, looking down at the comforter and picking at a loose thread.
Kurt captures Blaine's face between his hands, forcing Blaine to look him in the eye. "No. No, Blaine, definitely not. None of this was your fault. Never, ever blame yourself for that." Blaine just shrugs and tries to look away, but Kurt won't have any of that. He holds Blaine's head steady. "Listen to me, it wasn't your fault. Promise me you won't blame yourself."
Blaine looks like he's about to protest, but one more look at the fierce glint in Kurt's eyes and he mumbles a half-hearted, "I promise."
"Good. I love you. You know that, right?" "Yeah," Blaine smiles up at his best friend and boyfriend through the tears,
"Thanks. It feels good that you finally know. I hate keeping things from you."
"You can tell me anything. Remember that."
"You are so much more than I deserve."
"Not true, but thanks."
The two boys snuggle close on Blaine's bed, silence falling between them. They're both exhausted; mentally, physically and emotionally. Kurt reaches for Blaine's arms and presses gentle kisses to each and every scar.