Kurt fussed with the sheets on the air mattress as he waited for Blaine to get out the shower, tucking and straightening them with an uncomfortably numb mind. He had gone online while waiting for the air mattress to inflate, and found the reason for Blaine's breakdown posted all over his Facebook home page. Each and every friend he had met at Dalton had posted variations of RIP Kevin Gorman.
Kurt had never met Kevin during his short stint as a Dalton Academy student- at least, I hope I hadn't, he thought, wondering if he had ever crossed paths with the junior whose name and school picture were now plastered over news sites across the nation. He would feel terrible if he had met Kevin, and never remembered.
"For the first time in my life, darling, I do not approve of your fashion choice."
Kurt looked up from the sheets to see Blaine standing on the stairs, pretending to model Finn's pajamas and T-shirt. While his shoulders were too broad to fit into most of Kurt's tight-fitting wardrobe, Blaine was still significantly smaller than Finn, and the McKinley basketball shirt fell halfway to his knees. Kurt couldn't help but chuckle.
"Sorry. Your clothes are in the dryer. I'll grab your shirt for you once it's done."
"No problem." Blaine sat down at Kurt's vanity and began cuffing the bottoms of Finn's pajamas, starting over each time they didn't end up even. The shower seemed to have calmed him down, and the only sign of his breakdown was the ring of red, swollen skin around his eyes. He looked up at Kurt's concerned face. "I'm guessing you know. You know, about Kevin."
Kurt nodded. "Well, only of him, and what happened. I don't know any details or anything. I didn't read any of the articles I found online."
Blaine sighed, shaking his head. "Already articles online, " he muttered. And then his voice exploded through the room at a volume neither of them was anticipating. "It happened four hours ago! Give his family time to mourn before you make him a headline."
Seeing Kurt's shock at his outburst, Blaine apologized, face relaxing. "I'm just getting really worked up about this. I'll explain everything, I just need to calm down first."
After a moment of silence, Kurt bounced off the air mattress and walked over to Blaine. "I've got just the thing," he said. He started searching through the drawers of his vanity, eventually pulling out his special eye cream. He had become addicted to the (rather expensive) cosmetic when his father started spending extra time with Finn; using it hid any signs of him crying himself to sleep.
"Your eyes are in desperate need of care," he said, dangling the lotion in front of Blaine's face. "How about you lie down and relax, and explain everything, and I'll give you a proper facial?"
For the first time all night, Blaine's face lit up in a full smile and laughed. Though he usually put up a fight when his boyfriend wanted to try new home skin remedies on him, and absolutely refused to let his toenails get painted, he secretly loved how much Kurt pampered him. He nodded and began to walk over to Kurt's bed, before doubling back and grabbing Kurt's face, kissing him on the lips.
"Just realized I haven't done that yet tonight," he said.
Kurt smiled and leaned back into Blaine's lips. The kiss was soft and deep, with neither party taking control; they instead responded to each other equally. Kurt felt his toes curl as his entire body began to tingle and his mind became blissfully empty of every thought except those lips. As they pulled away, Kurt forgot for a moment who Kevin Gorman was and the events that had transpired earlier that evening. Blaine looked the way he always did when they stopped kissing, his goofy smile accompanied by that passionate look that made Kurt feel faint. However, the feelings of before slowly crept into Blaine's face.
"Now, you were saying something about a facial?"
Blaine laid himself gently on Kurt's bed, knowing how much he fussed about wrinkles in his duvet. He adjusted the dress of a shirt he was wearing, the neck of which had edged its way to one side, exposing his shoulder. Staring at the ceiling, he asked, "Where should I begin?"
Kurt paused from collecting his facial supplies. "How about at the beginning of the school day?"
Blaine sighed. The beginning of the day seemed so long ago; he could barely remember it. He had overslept after staying up into the early hours of the morning studying for his Calculus test. He had compensated by speeding to Dalton, cutting off a good chunk of his usual 70-minute commute. He wound up breezing through the test, and was in a great mood by the end of the day.
"And then, right after last period had begun, we heard this huge commotion in the hallway. Paramedics were running down the hall towards the library, and Monsieur Wells left and asked what was going on. They told him there was an unconscious student in the library."
"Kevin?" Kurt asked, and Blaine nodded as best as he could without disturbing the lotion his boyfriend was applying to his face.
"And the entire French class starts freaking out, trying to figure out who it was. Everyone was listing off what students had previous medical conditions, who looked sick earlier in the day, things like that. Joel stormed off after them, yelling that he's an Eagle Scout and had experience with first aid and wanted to help. It was utter chaos."
Blaine drew a deep breath, slowly let the air escape through his lips, and continued shakily. "And about ten minutes later, we see everyone walking the other way, and there was a body on the stretcher… covered in a white sheet. Just like the movies."
Kurt stopped applying the eye cream and grabbed Blaine's hand, squeezing it tightly.
"So, then there's an announcement saying that all sports and clubs are cancelled for the day, and there'll be a meeting after school for all who want to attend. And I swear, Kurt, when I walked into the auditorium, the place was packed. I don't think anyone went home."
One thing Kurt had loved about Dalton Academy was the sense of camaraderie. Every seemed to know each other and care about each other. Yes, he saw some of the same cliques that there were at McKinley: the jocks spent most of their time with each other, as did the high achievers taking AP classes, and members of the theatre troupe were always discussing the latest choreography from rehearsal. But no one went out of their way to ignore another student or give them any grief. On his first day, Kurt saw a handful of jocks walk down the hallway, one with an open cup in his hand, and braced himself for the frozen slap of a slushie in his face. The horde of athletes simply walked by, taking Kurt by surprise. One of them even stopped and asked if he felt all right. He had simply mumbled something about being the new kid, and received a smile from the student, whom he remembered as having dark red hair and a penchant for sarcasm.
The memory flooded back into him, and Kurt gasped as he remembered the name of the boy who had been generally concerned for him on that first day. "Kevin!"
Blaine abruptly stopped his monologue. "What about Kevin?" he asked warily.
"I met him! The first day I was at Dalton! He told me I looked sick and offered to bring me to the nurse. I just remembered that."
"Yeah, he was a really nice kid like that," Blaine said, and continued on about the meeting the students had with the police. Kurt sat still on the bed, frozen by the influx on information, shocked that someone could actually pour rat poison into his afternoon coffee and drink it in the middle of the library. Blaine told the tale with an air of disbelief, as though he couldn't fathom the idea either.
"Do they know why he did it?"
"They said his computer was on, and there were a ton of emails open. It was all hate mail, from kids in his town. They said," Blaine started, and then screwed up his face, tight underneath the mask of the facial. His eyes began to water as he finished, "They said it was because he was bi."
The tears fell again as Blaine sat up, holding his head in his hands. Kurt moved behind him, rubbing his back in the comforting way that Mercedes always did when he was stressed at school. It didn't seem to be helping.
"It happened at Dalton," Blaine whispered. "The one place where I thought it was safe, it happened."
They sat in silence for ten minutes. There was nothing Kurt could think of to refute that statement. The reason he went to Dalton was its safety from the bullying of the outside world. He would have stayed, too, had Blaine not convinced him to face his fears. Then it clicked.
"Well, it doesn't have anything to do with Dalton at all," he said, still massaging Blaine's back. "You have two choices when it comes to bullying: be strong and don't let what others do or say affect you, or give in to them. Yes, Dalton makes it easier to avoid bullying, but it's still around us. Hiding from it isn't always the right choice, because hiding is a form of giving in, and that's what happened. It's about personal strength, and refusing to be the victim, not the school."
Blaine turned around to look at his boyfriend, surprised and a bit proud to hear his own words spoken to him. "Whoever gave you an idea like that is a pretty smart guy," he said, smirking. "I bet he's also stunningly attractive."
"He's not bad-looking, if you're into thick eyebrows and ridiculously curly hair," Kurt replied as he playfully messed up said hair, curls moving freely about without their usual gel constraint.
Blaine's eyes narrowed. One thing the two shared was hatred of other people touching their hair. "Oh, so that's happening now. Well, how about this, Hummel?" he asked, reaching over to break up the perfect part on the side of Kurt's head. As the younger boy tried to pull away, he turned around laughing and started using both hands. "Do you like that? Do you, Kurt? I think you'd look dashing with spiked hair, how about you?"
A not-so-subtle cough rang through the basement, and Blaine let go of Kurt as he saw Burt Hummel standing on the stairs. "Your laundry's done, Kurt," he said, gesturing to the basket he had in his hands.
"I'll get that, Mr. Hummel," Blaine said, jumping off the bed. He made a quick pit stop at the mirror to fix his hair, surprising himself when he saw he was still wearing a tear-stained mask of facial cream. He took the basket from Kurt's father and placed it next to his school bag. "I cannot rock this look any longer," he joked, taking off Finn's shirt, careful not to get lotion on the collar as he pulled it over his head.
Burt watched as his son's eyes fixed themselves on Blaine's shirtless body as he began folding his school uniform. He silently motioned for Kurt to come over to the stairs.
"Look, Kurt," he whispered. "I said Blaine could stay because I could see he was in a rough place tonight. I'm glad you're making him feel better, but just don't… you know. Alright?"
Kurt's eyes widened as he realized what his father was insinuating. "No! I wasn't even thinking of that. I promise." Had he ever thought about having sex with Blaine? Of course he did, but he wasn't going to do it now. Not when their relationship was only a few months old, and Blaine still had no idea how far away he was moving for college. Especially not tonight, after all that had happened.
"Alright, well, good." His father answered awkwardly. "Good night, boys."