Seasons of Love
Summary: When Klaine splits up and Kurt returns home, hurting and trying to piece himself back together, what will become of the New Directions family? Puckurt, Purt, AU. Noncon. Slash. Femslash. Het. T for violence and sexual themes.
WARNINGS; if you are frightened/offended by male-male or female-female or male-female relations (sexual or not), I would suggest turning back and looking up a story about puppies/rainbows/harmless woodland elves. Previously this story was MPREG, but then I decided to take it in a different direction:) The warning is about boy-boy and girl-girl moments where things will get heated:D Sorry homophobes, you're going to have to suck it up…and go fuck yourselves because, really?
OTHER WARNINGS THAT DON'T INCLUDE A RANT; Language, underage drinking, dark situations, semi-dark/insane Blaine
FYI; The title for this fic was inspired by Seasons of Love from Jonathon Larson's gorgeous play/movie, RENT. I thought it was fitting for this as it's going to be a partial romance story and the relationships of Kurt's life as he struggles with…dun, dun, dun…
:P You probably already know from the Summary/Warning
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, if I did my name would be Ryan Murphy or I would own Fox Studios. As my name is not Ryan Murphy and I'm a paraprofessional/Teacher's Aide, I do not work at Fox.
Pairings: Puckurt, Pummel, Purt
Brittana
Quam
Finchel
Dacedes, Mavid, Mervid?
Tartie
Wemma
Klaine (minor)
Asian Fusion (minor)
Mentions of: St. Berry, Kurtofsky (one-sided), Blaine/OC, David/OC, Wes/OC, Finn/Santana, Will/Emma, Kurt/Brittany, Puck/Quinn
Chapter 1: Don't Call My Name...
"Don't want to kiss,
Don't want to touch..."
Alejandro, Lady Gaga
Kurt Hummel knew, however inexperienced he was, the progression of relationships. He knew that after dating for three months and doing nearly everything that could be done while wearing clothing, it was time to take it to the next level with his boyfriend, Blaine, but he wasn't…ready, as cliché as that sounds.
Blaine was lovely and the perfect gentleman. He asked Kurt out on a romantic first date. He remembered their one-month anniversary (even if Kurt wasn't much into one month anniversary's since…well, that's kind of ridiculous) and made sure that Kurt's real first kiss was as loving and tender as it could be, in order to contrast with Karofsky's bruising lip assault.
He'd been slow, careful, and kind. He hadn't even pressured Kurt. Well, not really. There had been subtle hints and Blaine always initiated the dry-humping and got off by thrusting himself against Kurt's thigh which sent a cherry blush staining Kurt's face and neck. But he hadn't insisted…much and Kurt was grateful for that.
Whenever one of the other Warblers would tease Kurt or Blaine about the sex thing (not in a cruel way or even more than a few gentle jibes) Wes and David would stiffen, sending an odd look at Blaine. An odd look that Kurt had yet to understand, but never failed to make Blaine's kisses and caresses just that much gentler; it was a look that had Blaine holding him tenderly after a brief make out session, running a hand up and down Kurt's back and cooing soft words and praises of love.
It confused him, but 'The Look' wasn't doing any harm, so he let it be.
That day had gone down without a 'Look' and David and Wes were in chipper moods (he had come to find out that Wes was very much a fun person, but was really, really serious about his job as Warbler council and didn't trust easily) and Blaine had been smiling and laughing all day long. The positive energy was contagious and by the time Blaine and Kurt finished their weekend homework, Blaine was practically igniting in sexual tension—especially after the wine-coolers they drank (snuck in courtesy of Wes and David).
The small countertenor didn't even think about it when he leaned into kiss Blaine. He didn't become worried when Blaine moved them to the bed. He didn't even startle when he felt that hard line against his thigh. It wasn't until Blaine's hand slipped into his own pants, caressing the semi-hard (he was a teenage boy getting hot and heavy with his boyfriend, after all) organ.
"B-Blaine!"
The older boy chuckled, apparently mistaking his protest for pleasure, "Sh, babe, someone will hear us."
"Blaine, stop."
"You'll like it, I promise," he replied huskily, unzipping the thinner boy's jeans. Kurt shoved him back, only managing to send him jerking a little. Blaine's eyes narrowed, "Kurt, stop being such a tease!"
He scowled, angrily flushed cheeks turning a shade darker, "I'm not being a tease."
"Sure you are," Blaine whispered, pushing Kurt back against the bed and managing to unzip and remove his pants before the younger boy could so much as yelp.
"Blaine! Stop! I'm being serious!"
"Shut up, Kurt."
Kurt hopped off the bed (pants be damned) as Blaine removed his own clothing, meaning to leave the room only to be harshly shoved into a wall, a growl ripping from Blaine's throat as his hazel eyes smoldered. Formerly gentle hands held him against the wall in a bruising grip and covered his mouth.
Kurt's blue-green eyes widened as he struggled against Blaine, trying to shake the boy off or even bite him.
"Stop it, Kurt," snapped Blaine, undoing the button's of Kurt's button up. "You'll enjoy this, I promise, don't you trust me?"
Kurt's terrified glare clearly said no as he continued to struggle, nearly managing to slip out of Blaine's grip when he bit him.
"AH!" yelped Blaine, shaking his hand about before lunging after Kurt, catching the pale boy only barely before he reached the door, slamming the boy against the floor and straddling him. A whimper escaped Kurt.
"Please, Blaine, please don't do this. You love me, remember?"
Blaine's gaze softened giving Kurt hope that this was just a weird fantasy of Blaine's that would put a bump in their relationship, but not end it all together. "Of course, I love you. That's why I'm doing this. This is what you do when you're in love."
Kurt squirmed, "No, Blaine, when you're in love you wait for the other person to be rea—mmph!"
Blaine broke the kiss (bruising and painful, not at all like him), smiling and running his hand down Kurt's face in mock-tenderness, "You'll never be ready without my help, beautiful."
"Bla-"
Kurt's eyes widened as the hand that had come to rest against his throat squeezed it, stilling instantly.
"Stop talking," the shorter (only by a half inch) boy ordered, grinding against his love (well, former love now) and victim.
"Are you sure we should interrupt their alone time?" asked David, trailing behind his best friend. He and Wes had been an official bromance for three years strong. They were nearly always together and were even dating sisters.
Wes, frowning, sighed, "I don't really feel comfortable leaving Blaine alone too much with Kurt."
"He's seemed better lately."
"He seemed better before Ross, too," said Wes, grimly.
Ross Holloway, Blaine's third and longest relationship, was a former student of Dalton Academy. His parents were upper middle class and, wanting the best education their money could buy, sent Ross to Dalton. Where he met Blaine. Where he fell in love with Blaine. Where Blaine fell in love with him. Where Blaine, on a night so different from this snowy, pristine atmosphere that screamed romantic walks and snuggling by the fireplace, raped him.
It wasn't that Blaine was a monster or even a bad person. He was their best friend. He was generally a kind, thoughtful, chivalrous boy from a good, loving home. He just had some very convoluted ideas about sex. His first boyfriend had been older and had taken it too far, too fast. He'd been rough. He broke up with Blaine immediately after, claiming that Blaine had been too much of a tease and that maybe, in the future, if he and his boyfriends had sex sooner, they'd always be in love.
It really warped the curly-haired Warbler.
Both were lost in thoughts of the past (incidents covered up by the massive amount of money Senator Anderson, Blaine's doting father, possessed) as they arrived at Blaine's door, not even bothering to knock, they entered.
David wanted to be sick. Not from the sight of gay sex (although it certainly did nothing for him), but from the way Kurt's eyes were screwed shut, tears somehow slipping out and rolling down his ashen and red splotched face. He still wore his dress shirt, but it was open, showing bite-mark covered torso. Blaine had a hand on Kurt's throat, the other wrapped around…something not so hard while he thrust in and out of Kurt's thin form. He looked to be on cloud nine. His partner just looked ready to die.
"BLAINE!" Wes boomed, slamming the door. Blaine looked up, startled. His hazel eyes were glassy.
Kurt's eyes opened, too, settling on David as his tears came faster, mouthing 'help me'.
The two sprung into action, Wes pulling Blaine away, ignoring the stomach turning 'squelching' noise and tossing him into the wall as David pulled Kurt to the other side of the room, wrapping a blanket around him. His throat and lips were bruising already. His normally immaculate chestnut hair was in a state of pure disarray and tears streaked down his cheeks.
"H-He, h-h-he…! I didn't, I didn't," Kurt sobbed, bringing his legs to his chest with a sob.
David tentatively placed an arm around the smaller, younger boy, eliciting a wince and gently carded his fingers through the soft hair. "I know, Kurt, I know; I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."
"Why? Why did he do that?"
"Blaine's messed up, Kurt. Really messed up."
It was an understatement. It wasn't what Kurt needed to hear. But it was all David had.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Wes slapped Blaine across the face, bringing the struggling boy down a little from his alcohol/adrenaline/crazy induced high. His hazel eyes focused. Wes took the opportunity to punch the SOB. Just hard enough to knock him out. They may be best friends, but Kurt needed them a little more right now than his rapist did.
"David," he called, "get Kurt in the tub and I'll move Blaine-y boy to our room and grab him some stuff. First aid kit's in the linen pantry."
The rich-skinned boy nodded, scooping Kurt up despite his protesting and quiet whimpers, carrying him into the bathroom (being a senior Prefect at Dalton had it's perks) and settling him on the ground.
Crouching, he put on a sad smile, "I'm gonna run the tub, okay?"
Kurt just nodded, holding the blanket closer. As David started running the tub, getting the first aid kid out, and a towel, it was silent. Until Kurt's statement brought him to a screeching halt, stomach falling past his knees.
"I haven't—hadn't ever had sex before."
His mouth fell open. The debacle with Ross had been bad. Bad enough, and he didn't look nearly as messed up as Kurt did. Ross hadn't been a virgin either (not that it really mattered when it came to rape, but with Kurt's first sexual encounter being a violent one, he had a feeling that it was going to lead to lifelong problems).
But that wasn't the problem now, David thought angrily, staring at Kurt's terrified, pale face. The problem now was that Blaine had very well had his dick in Kurt and probably had screwed the poor kid up for life.
"Shit."
Kurt's lips twitched, wryly drawling through his tears, "Putting it mildly."
"I don't know what to do, Kurt," confessed the taller boy, helping Kurt, very minutely, with getting undressed and into the tub, averting his eyes when he saw the blood streaking down Kurt's thighs. "Did he, uh, prepare you?"
"Sort of," Kurt whispered, pained. "He, um, he didn't have any lube so…"
David squeezed his eyes shut, "Fuck, Kurt, I'm…oh, God, I'm so sorry."
"Not your fault," he replied quietly, voice hoarse from the abuse he had taken to his throat, hissing as he sunk into the water, intent on destroying all evidence of what happened.
Wes entered the bathroom, lips tight and eyes hard, but forcing a smile at Kurt as he sat next to David on the counter ledge, "Hey, buddy, how you doing?"
His best friend elbowed him in the ribs, making him wince, "Sorry, stupid question."
"No, no, it's not. I'm…I'm not okay," admitted Kurt, staring at the slowly-turning-pink water. "Nowhere near okay, actually, but…I feel kind of…detached? I guess. Like this isn't happening. It can't be happening because Blaine loves me, right? He said he loved me. I just, I can't…this can't be happening. It can't."
The two shared a look as Kurt rambled brokenly, David sending him a helpless look then pointedly glancing at Kurt. Wes's eyes slid shut and his knuckles whitened. Ten minutes later, Kurt was sufficiently clean and climbed (with the help of David who seemed to be the only one the fashionista didn't completely freak out around) out, toweling off. Blood still sluggishly crept down his thighs and hand shaped bruises marred his throat, hips, wrists, and ribs, attesting to the horror of that night. They cleaned out the bite marks, putting gauze and tape over them and coated his bruises in cream.
"What are we going to do about…um…"
Kurt's face flooded with shame, turning beet red as his head fell.
Wes sighed, "I kind of thought about that already. There's nothing to do really, but wait until it stops…unless you want to go to the hospital…?"
The brunette sharply shook his head, gaze fixed on the floor, but visibly shaking.
"Okay, then, um, when my girlfriend spend the night once she left," he held up a pale yellow maxi-pad box, "I thought it would, you know, keep it, um, contained?"
A raw sob escaped Kurt, emotions overwhelming him. He knew it was stupid, after everything he had gone through that night, to be most worried over the fact that he had to wear a pad to keep from staining the sheets with blood, but he couldn't handle this, too. Not with everything else. He wasn't a girl. He was a boy. Sure, he liked boys. But he was a boy. Boy's didn't get their period. He didn't have a period, damnit! He didn't need a pad!
Except he did.
He could only nod, getting dressed and putting the thing lining his boxers before taking the Ibuprofen that Wes handed him and trying not to flinch.
As he was led out of the bathroom and, subsequently, Blaine's dorm to his own and helped into bed, ignoring the significant glances that Wes and David were giving each other, he prayed for the first time since his mother died—for the first time since he lost his faith in God (granted, he still didn't believe in some homophobe sitting up on a cloud, moving people about like chess pieces and agreeing with some fairytale story book that preached a lot of shit). He prayed that this would all be a nightmare. He prayed that he'd wake up in Blaine's reassuring, warm arms and the boy would be the same to him that he'd been since September. His mentor. His friend. His boyfriend. Not his rapist. Not the boy who took his virginity and left him bleeding and hurting.
He prayed until he fell into a fitful, nightmare-filled sleep.
AN: So…what do you think? Atrocious? 'OH MY GOD' how could you write this? Enjoyable? Interesting? Riveting?
I tried to make it as…readable as possible, though I know I have a thing for abusing ellipses or rather, I feel I do. I don't write graphic rape. Although this alludes to what is happening, it will not ever go into the details. I've had this plot bunny in my head for quite some time. It will end up being 16 chapters, three or four a week, I hope. I have it all planned out (on paper, not in my messy, messy mind, thank Prada:)
BTW: I have nothing against religion or religious people-unless its fanatical and the crazies tell me I'm going to hell for liking both women and men. Personally, I don't believe in the Christian version of God, I believe that there is a benevolent creater who doesn't make mistakes and loves all his people (so long as they don't murder or hurt kids...) Anyway, enough of my religious beliefs... :) Please enjoy!
I hope you enjoy this. It won't be a consistently dark or sad story. In fact it has a lot of positive, New-Directions-family-filled-lovey-dovey moments. It features Kurt/the Glee Girl time, Kurt and the Glee boys. Kurt and Wes and David. Blaine's even featured; I'm not telling you whether he's featured in a positive light or not:D I'll save that for later!
Please review and enjoy:)