Kurt sits in the passenger seat of Blaine's car, fingers nervously fidgeting with the ends of his scarf. He chances a glance at the other boy every so often, finding him humming along to whatever Top 40 station is currently playing, the volume low. He hadn't tried to force Kurt to talk, simply told him about his favourite coffee shop, not far down the road, and then turned up the heater.
He was still a little unsure of Blaine, if he was serious or if he was actually taking Kurt off to murder him in some field somewhere, but he couldn't bring himself to make Blaine pull over, to leave his presence. For the first time in a long time, someone had noticed him, his pain, and he was reluctant to let that go. Too long he had been numb inside. Years of locker checks and slushee facials had caused him to block out the world, block out the feelings of being lesser than everyone because of something he couldn't help but be. Even when he joined glee, he had clung tightly to the feeling of nothingness.
He tried opening up to Artie once, tried to find the words to tell him how he felt, because surely the boy in the wheelchair would understand, but they had caught in his throat, stuck there and unable to escape. So he kept silent, not allowing anyone to see how much the derogatory names and the feel of metal hitting his back actually hurt him. His friends never paid close enough attention to see the pain hidden behind his blue eyes, never let them see the bruises
"We're here," a soft voice says, breaking him out of his reverie. Kurt looks up to see a small brick building, the windows decorated with cheesy Christmas decoration, even though the holiday i`s a month away. He turns to look at Blaine, who gives him a half smile. "We don't have to go in, if you don't want the coffee."
"No, it's fine," Kurt whispers, dragging his eyes away from the boy and slowly getting out of the car. He stuffs his hands in his pockets as Blaine follows his lead, shutting his car door and pressing the lock button on his key fob.
They walk inside and place their orders with the barista, Blaine brushing off his offer to pay. Once they've collected their coffee, they find a corner in the back. Kurt takes a sip before setting his cup on the table, rotating it almost absent mindedly as he stares at his hands.
They stay silent, Blaine simply drinking his medium drip as he looks out the window, his fingers tapping out a rhythm in the air while Kurt tries to decide what, if anything, he's going to tell this stranger.
"I'm gay," he hears himself say, his eyes trained on the faux wood grain of the tabletop. Blaine makes a noise of acknowledgement
"The people at school, they-" he pauses, tries to push through the lump in his throat, "they hate me for that fact." He shrugs helplessly. "The jocks, in particular, they make my life a living hell. There's one, he seems to take some kind of sick joy in shoving me into lockers and, and throwing frozen drinks in my face."
The tears he's held back for so many years start falling when he blinks and he doesn't bother to wipe them away as he continues. "My friends, I-I know they care, but no one seems to notice tha-" A sob pushes through, cutting off his words and then there's an arm around him as he shakes and he turns into them.
He clutches the fabric of Blaine's jacket, for once not caring how expensive something is and just taking comfort in the feel of strong arms holding him, the voice of an angel gently reassuring him that he is safe, he's not alone, things would be okay.
Blaine keeps holding him, doesn't let him go even though he can't be in a comfortable position, just let's him cry until he's exhausted, his body trembling. He's presented with a handkerchief when he finally pulls away. He quietly thanks Blaine as the other boy goes to sit down, picking up his coffee and making a face when he realizes it's grown cold.
"I'll buy you another one," Kurt whispers.
Blaine shakes his head, "No, you won't, this is fine." Kurt bites his lip, his eyes flitting to the windows as Blaine clears his throat. "I won't belittle your pain by saying it'll be okay, you just have to power through it. It's hard and it will probably get worse before it gets better." He reaches a hand out slowly, picking up Kurt's and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I know how you feel, what it's like." When Kurt meets his eyes questioningly, he continues. "I'm gay too and I was bullied at my old school."
Kurt straightens in shock. Blaine is gay? "You're gay?"
Blaine lets out a little chuckle. "Yes, I am." His eyes shift nervously. "Kurt, may I ask you something? Something personal?"
He hesitates for a moment, considering. "Sure."
He meets Kurt's eyes, holds them with his hazel ones. "Were you going to jump?"
Kurt inhales sharply, not expecting the question, not knowing the answer. "I-"
Blaine holds up his hand. "Don't answer if you don't feel comfortable doing so."
Kurt bites his lip as they lapse back into silence. He has to force himself not to run his hand through his hair in frustration as he thinks. Would he have? "I don't know." He says it out loud, answering both questions at once.
Blaine takes his hand once more, squeezing it as a single tear slips out of his eye.
A/N: Let me end this by saying, I'm not good at writing angst. It takes a special kind of mood for me to be able to do it and, as you can tell, what comes out isn't very long. That being said, some people have requested I continue this and if I do, you guys will have to deal with sporadic and short updates. Personally, I like where it left off, but my muse wants more as well (it's fun making her all ;_; in Skype). So, if you guys want me to continue, let me know and prepare yourself for long waits.