So Much Broken Glass
by:muaaimoi
The thing is that Kurt is unprepared. He isn't ready. He's trained himself not to think too hard about his life, or the choices he makes. There is no forethought about what's to come. The immediate future is bleak enough as it is. No one warns him about what it means to be what he is. It's mid summer and Kurt is alone. His seniors have left him for vacations with their families before college starts.
Kurt doesn't even know what's wrong at first. He's a little jittery, a lot antsy, so he clocks countless hours in his Dads garage. Masturbates until his dick feels raw, but he's still just so horny. All but vibrating out of his skin. It's never enough. August dawns, blistering hot and Kurt doesn't know what to do with himself anymore. He's used to being ordered around. Used to being fucked at least twice a day. He doesn't know what to do with his new found freedom. Fashion and Theater, his previous primary interests, are things he's no longer worthy of. Not with how far he has fallen.
Working is about the only thing that's safe. The one thing that will engage his attention so completely he has no time to think. No time to feel, or worse yet, remember. Of course he spends every moment he can there. Works hard enough that his Dad kicks him out. Bars him from the garage for the rest of the summer.
It doesn't take Kurt long to be grateful. Not a full two days later he starts going truly insane. Kurt had been making religious use of the dildo ever since Kevin had left, three weeks into July. Heather almost never slept with him unless she was performing for an audience. There had been a few times when he'd considered asking her. When the itch under his skin got to be too much and he just needed more. Heather had been able to tell. Took him to parties where he could find at least three people willing to fuck him, at least one of which was usually a guy. He hadn't really considered what it would mean when she left.
The itch starts getting bad again and it finally dawns on Kurt that Heather's connections are no longer an option. He doesn't know anyone who will invite him to a party. Doesn't know anyone who will sleep with him and make the frantic ravenous need inside him stop...
Except, except that maybe he does. Ronnie had mentioned that the skanks smoked in the back of the seven eleven a few times. She'd hit on him once or twice. Implied that sex would be more fun with her than with anyone in a cheerio skirt. She's a girl, usually this would automatically disqualify her from the list of people Kurt actually wants to sleep with. But usually Kurt doesn't actually want to have sex with anyone at all. Doesn't want so much it's a physical ache inside him.
It's how he finds himself having sex with the skanks. Ronnie had bragged to the others that he was a great lay, and Kurt spends the rest of the summer holding his libido back until he can't. He has sex with Sheila, he has sex with Mac. Ronnie takes him to crash a cheerio party and he sleeps with so many people he can't keep track.
When school starts again it's almost a relief. There is school work to focus on, he's allowed near the engines again. His father presents him with a Lincoln Navigator Kurt loves beyond words, and he spends countless hours in happy worship of his new baby. He doesn't deserve it, not the car, or his fathers gruff affection. Not being what he is, and doing what he does. But he can't turn it away. So Kurt does his best not to think about it.
It's harder than he makes it look. But no one notices that he's drowning in guilt, and even if they did, it's not as if anyone cares.
It takes him a while to realize that he's not as in demand in the popular crowd as he used to be. There are less red skirts and leather jackets among the people that tug him into closets, or invite him into their beds. He's making his way out of a janitors closet when he realizes the reason for it.
Quinn Fabray looks at him like he's lower than dirt. Everything about her is snobby and condemning. It's clear she considers herself too good to even speak her scorn.
Kurt starts sticking his tongue out at her, just happy there are less Cheerleaders lining up to sleep with him on the off chance of incurring the head Cheerleaders wrath. It's not like he likes sleeping with girls anyway. The sole exception might have been Brittany. But that has more to do with Brittany constantly petting him and the fountain of compliments she is when it comes to how soft his hands are, or how pretty she finds his eyes. There's something so wonderfully uncomplicated about Brittany. She's just so nice, she's one of the only people he sleeps with regularly whose name he knows. He's come to like complimenting her right back. Telling her how beautiful she is, and how toned and flexible he finds her body.
Over time their sex has evolved into more of a mutual admiration society with orgasms than anything else. Considering that Brittany could suck a golf ball through a hose and a talented mouth on his dick always feels amazing, she is pretty much the only girl he looks forward to sleeping with. It helps that they mostly stick to giving each other oral and he doesn't have to stick anything but his tongue inside her.
Santana joins them often, but he doesn't mind so much because she prefers making out with Brittany to making out with him, Kurt is totally fine with that, he finds the whole sapphic thing oddly cute. He likes watching the way they are together. The sweetness in their touch. He's never going to enjoy it the way a heterosexual, or even a bisexual man might. But it's nice all the same. It's almost like they love each other.
Love is something Kurt usually considers himself so far removed from that even the thought of it is bitter sweet. He used to love romance. Musicals, chick flicks, love songs. He'd held all of it up on a pedestal. The most ambitious of his goals, a cute boy that made him laugh, someone who could become a husband that loved him, kids to dote on, Kurt had wanted it all. It was just that now he knew he was utterly unworthy of any of it. Kurt had become someone no one would ever think about marrying. The closest he'd ever come to would probably be blowing someone at a wedding.
Kurt tried his best not to think about it. Sometimes it felt like it was all he did. Forced his mind on safe things, like school, or concentrating on fucking someone in the backseat of their car. But sometimes he couldn't. Sometimes the thought would just hit and Kurt couldn't ignore it. Couldn't pretend it away. It's how he finds himself breaking down in his navigator.
School had been out for hours. But a few girls had wanted him to stay behind. It's not like Kurt had ever said no before. He doesn't even know where he would start now. They leave without a backwards glance when they're done. Kurt doesn't usually care. Doesn't understand what it is about this one time that sends him into a hate spiral that leaves him nauseous. Completely sick of himself. He thinks for a moment that it might be the way they'd been giggling among themselves. The way they took turns in the janitors closet while the others waited around. But doesn't make any sense, none of that's different than any other day.
He's so lost in hating himself that the soft taps on the window scare the crap out of him. He barely bites back a shriek.
"Britt?"He ventures, blinking tears out of his eyes and trying to focus on the cheerleader."What are you doing here?"
"You look sad."Brittany states with a small frown.
"I'll feel better in a little bit."Kurt lies. He'll just remember how he usually hides his misery and self disgust. He's fairly certain he's developed a system.
Her frown deepens."Singing helps sometimes, when I'm really sad."
"I don't really sing." At least, not anymore. Can't even remember the last song he'd listened to. Music is just another item in the long list of things Kurt is no longer worthy of doing.
Brittany did an about face, and Kurt thought for a moment that she'd left, before he realized she'd just gone to the passenger side. Slipping right in and beginning to hum.
He' startled into laughter once he places the song. Justin Timberlakes 'Cry Me a River' would probably be meant as a jab coming from anyone else. But there is nothing but pure sympathy coming from Brittany. Nothing mean or sarcastic about the way she sings the lyrics. Kurt joins in before he makes a solid decision to do so. Listens to the way their voices meld and something suspiciously close to warmth blooms in his chest.
Once the song ends, and their voices fade, he's left staring at Brittany. He does feel better. Not as hollow, like some empty space inside of himself has begun to fill. But more than anything he's confused. Brittany had gone out of her way to make him feel better. He doesn't know what any of his fellow skanks would have done if they caught him crying. Ignored it probably. He never says anything when Mac smokes through her tears, or Sheila starts sobbing around whatever she's eating at the time. The Skanks are the closest thing he has to friends, the only people he'd though would actually care if he spent enough time away from their smoking spot. And he knows they wouldn't have actually managed to make him feel any better, and that's if they'd even thought to try. Friends are supposed to, he thinks, funny how he hadn't even thought Brittany qualified.
Kurt tries to picture how they might go about making him feel better. Maybe they would have kissed him, attempted to distract him the best way they knew how, with sex. Or maybe they would have made fun of him, gotten him angry instead of sad. He doesn't know. Hopes like hell they never walk in on him breaking down. Oddly he's not bothered by Brittany's presence. There's just no malice in her.
"I like your voice."Brittany says."It's really nice."
Kurt smiles without having to fake it."I like your voice too. I do feel better now. Thanks Britt."
"You should come to Glee club tomorrow."Brittany beams."I think your voice is better than Rachel's."
Kurt thinks about Brittany, the song they sung, and the knowledge that he hadn't even known they were friends. Usually people he has sex with are simply that. Bodies that he shares orgasms with. Even sleeping with the skanks didn't mean anything. He didn't especially like them. They were simply his people, girls who were as broken as he was. He knows Brittany sleeps around a lot. They are kin in this, if nothing else. Because Brittany is a cheerleader. People like her, and know her. She has friends, and seeing as she has Glee club, she has music. Brittany knew how to make him feel better, and Brittany is not someone people consider terribly smart.
He looks at her again. Really looks at her. All the ways they are different, and all the ways they're the same. She's so much happier than he is.
"I'll think about it."Kurt says.
x
Sooo, I feel so bad doing this to Kurt. Like really, really bad. Can I have a little feedback to feel better about this? Please?