Stiles gives up on the game completely after a few minutes, too distracted by what Kurt might be coming over to talk about to be able to think about anything else. Even when that something else involves zombies. He lies of his bed, sprawled out over the unmade covers while his brain ping pongs between potential scenarios. He considers everything from something to do with Burt's heart to – in a brief moment of hopeful insanity – thinking that, just maybe, Kurt is going to burst through the door unable to contain his feelings anymore and kiss him. (Stiles berates himself for thinking it when there are far more important things than his crush happening.)
His brain continues to whirr unhelpfully, and Stiles ends up sitting on the edge of his bed, leg bouncing and body thrumming with anxiety and impatience. He jolts when the doorbell rings, feet nearly sliding out from under him when he jumps up. Stiles is at the door within seconds, throwing it open and barely resisting dragging Kurt inside and into a hug just to confirm that he's still whole and breathing and okay.
Kurt lets himself be tugged inside and says "hey" in a voice that is clearly trying to sound normal but falls just short of the mark, coming out thin and strained instead. When Stiles gets a good look at his face (and he tries not to stare, he does, but he can't help drinking in the lines of Kurt's face as he checks him over for visible injury) he can see that Kurt's eyes are a hint too shiny and mouth downturned in unhappiness.
"Kurt, what happened?" Stiles asks by way of greeting, too worried to not just dive right in and ask. He doesn't have patience for small talk; he just needs to know that everything is all right or how he can fix it if it isn't.
"It's really not that big a deal," Kurt says dismissively, eyes fixing on a point past Stiles's shoulder. Stiles cuts him off before he can keep going, knowing that Kurt if more than capable of downplaying the situation to the point of simply ignoring it. It's patently obvious from the fact that Kurt even considered talking about it – even though he clearly spent the drive over talking himself out of that decision – that whatever it is has Kurt pretty shaken.
"Kurt, it was a big enough deal for you to send me cryptic messages and then blow off Finn to come over here pretty much as soon as you got home from Glee. And the look on your face tells me that something is really wrong. So clearly it is important." Stiles pauses for a moment, hoping Kurt will speak up. When he doesn't, Stiles jumps back in, heart lurching at the lost sort of look on Kurt's face, and voice turning quiet and pleading. "I just need to know that you're okay."
Kurt's over-bright gaze shifts from the wall to Stiles's face, and Stiles can see him take a deep breath and then sag just a little as he gives in. "I'm okay," Kurt says eventually. Stiles relaxes incrementally to hear the confirmation, but he's still wound tight and waiting.
"And your dad?"
"Is fine too," Kurt confirms, but there's an edge to his voice that Stiles can read to mean that whatever it is that happened involved Burt somehow. Stiles doesn't say anything, he just watches Kurt as the boy crosses his arms protectively over his chest; it's the kind of defensive gesture that Kurt rarely does around Stiles these days and it makes him look small somehow. There's a long silent moment before Kurt speaks again. "They vandalized my house again." Stiles doesn't have to ask who "they" are; he knows it's the same guys who harass Kurt at school, and who used to routinely alter, damage and destroy the Hummels' property. "It's been almost a year since something like this happened. I thought they had stopped. My dad—" Kurt's voice cracks and the remains of his mask of detachment begins to visibly crumble "—my dad could hardly stand it the first time around. He was so happy when it was over; he thought it meant things had changed." Kurt is beginning to sound frantic, the calm exterior slipping away completely as he recounts the story. "You don't know how stressed he was by all of it – how much it hurt him to get phone calls at the garage telling him his son was a fag." Stiles watches Kurt tighten his arms around himself, hugging them in tighter as though he can protect himself from the memories. "And now his heart … and I don't—" Kurt makes a little choked sound.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Stiles says. He wants to pull Kurt into a hug and not let him go, but he settles for reaching out and putting a hand on Kurt's arm, squeezing gently before dropping it again.
Kurt looks up at the touch and keeps eye contact – eyes bright and a little scared – as he speaks. "I just don't know if his heart can take it if he has to start dealing with that again."
Stiles watches Kurt intently, thinking only briefly before saying softly, "You shouldn't have to deal with it either."
Their eyes are still locked as Kurt shrugs, mouth twisting sadly. "I'm used to worse." There's no denial anymore. No pretense that Stiles doesn't know about the bullying – the outright abuse – that he has taken.
This time, Stiles doesn't even think about when he reaches out with both hands to tug Kurt towards him and wrap him in a hug.
It's comforting to have Kurt safe and warm in his arms. It's even better when Kurt settles against him, tension slowly slipping out of his body as his arms slide around Stiles's waist, and face turned in against a shoulder.
Kurt ends up staying just to hang out for a while even though they don't really talk about it much more. Stiles thinks maybe he's avoiding going home where he'll have to talk to Burt, but he's not about to bring it up when Kurt already looks so tired and vulnerable. Instead, he lets Kurt curl silently into the corner of the couch and hands him the TV remote. They end up watching a marathon of What Not to Wear and Stiles keeps up a constant stream of commentary even though he knows nothing at all about fashion. Maybe it's the fact that he tries anyway, even though he's blatantly failing miserably (he likes the stupid wolf t-shirt they just threw out, okay?), that finally makes Kurt smile.
Stiles's dad gets home right as they're ending their second episode. It's later than he was meant to be home – after seven already – and there's a peculiar look on his face when he catches sight of Kurt. Stiles doesn't know what it means.
"Hey, dad. Sorry I haven't started dinner yet; I kind of lost track of time," Stiles says, hoisting himself up off the couch. "Do you want chicken caesar salad or pasta?" His dad gives him a flat look, and Stiles raises his hands defensively. "Okay, fine. Pasta," he says with a sigh. "But it's going to have a ton of vegetables in it!" Stiles looks to Kurt, who is slowly pushing himself to his feet, teetering a little and looking completely wrung out. "Are you staying for dinner?"
"I should probably head home," Kurt says. He doesn't sound terribly happy at the prospect, and Stiles can tell from the way he's squaring his shoulders and tilting his chin up that he's gearing up for the conversation he's going home to.
Stiles walks Kurt to the door, and there's a moment where he feels suspended. He's got his hands shoved into his pockets as he sways forward slightly, and their eyes are holding contact. Kurt lifts a hand, extending it just a little towards Stiles before dropping it again as he steps backwards towards the open door. "Thank you," Kurt says, breaking eye contact to look down at his feet.
"No problem. Anytime! I mean, not that I hope this situation will ever come up again. I hope it doesn't, but you can always talk to me. Is what I mean." Stiles stutters awkwardly to a stop, barely suppressing a groan at his own inability to just stop talking.
Kurt smiles a little crookedly at him. "I'll let you know how it goes with my dad, okay?"
Stiles nods, another moment of eye contact passing before Kurt finally turns and heads out into the fading light.
There's already a pot of water boiling on the stove when Stiles goes to start dinner, and his dad is perched on a stool at the island counter obviously waiting for him. Stiles starts pulling vegetables out of the fridge and just waits for him to start talking.
"So I was over at the Hummels' this evening," he says eventually.
"Oh yeah?"
"Seems there was another incident of property damage." Stiles stays quiet, the sound of him dicing tomato loud in the silence. He can feel his dad's stare on the back of his head; the sheriff waiting him out as though it was an interrogation. "Stiles, what do you know?"
"It's not really—" Stiles huffs a breath, "I don't really know anything, okay."
"I just want to help, kid. So if you know anything at all that could help us …" he trails off meaningfully.
Stiles puts his knife down and whirls around to face his dad. "I really don't know much more than you do, all right? And I really don't know if it would be my place to tell you if I did." He knows he sounds tired and a little too aggravated for the situation, but he really just doesn't know what he's supposed to say.
"Stiles, anything at all—"
"I know, okay? I just … I need to talk to Kurt first." His dad stays still for a long moment just watching him, and Stiles starts to squirm under the look, turning back to his cutting board when he can't handle it any longer. It's another minute before Stiles hears his dad make his way across the kitchen and then feels a hand land gently on his shoulder.
"Sometimes I think you're a little too loyal for your own good. But at least no one will ever fault you that." He knows his dad is thinking of all the times Stiles has covered for Scott: the times he has taken the blame for things he didn't do to save friends even though his dad clearly knew the truth. None of those situations were ever anything like this one, and a big part of Stiles just wants to spill everything he knows, but he wasn't lying about needing to talk to Kurt first. He needs Kurt to know what's going on: needs to know Kurt is okay with it before he does anything at all. "Let me know when dinner is ready," his dad says. And then he makes his way towards the living room, leaving Stiles to his thoughts.
Stiles is already lying in bed with his laptop perched on his chest when his phone buzzes.
From Kurt:
Talked to my dad. He isn't happy, but everything is okay.
To Kurt:
What did you tell him?
From Kurt:
Same thing I used to tell him. That teenagers are idiots.
Stiles closes his eyes for a moment. He's glad that everything is okay, but honestly he was hoping that Kurt would just tell Burt everything. He's really not sure how much longer he can live with this constant worry (or how much longer Kurt can survive constant fear and abuse): not when there's a solution to be had if only Kurt would take it.
Stiles must get caught up in thinking because another text comes through before he can even consider thumbing out a response.
I know I should tell him.
Apparently Kurt deciding to drop the pretense with Stiles earlier wasn't a one-time deal, and Stiles is glad of that. If nothing else it means he doesn't have to pretend not to know for fear of Kurt retreating into himself; they can actually talk about the situation at hand and maybe together they can figure out a solution.
To Kurt:
I really think you should.
From Kurt:
I know. But I'm just … not ready to tell him.
I might be ready to tell you though.
Stiles sucks in a breath. Maybe it's not quite what he was hoping for, but if Kurt is ready to talk, he's more than willing to listen.
