Chapter 7:

As Kurt was slowly undressing himself in front of Finn, Blaine was still at school. Miss. Peterson, his english teacher, had called him into her office.

"Am I in trouble?" He asked nervously. He went over everything he had said and done over the past few weeks, trying to think of what offense he could have possibly committed.

"No, Blaine. You're not in trouble."

"Oh. Good."

"I wanted to talk to you about Kurt Hummel, actually."

"Oh." Blaine repeated, leaving off the "good" this time.

"I know you're friends with him, and well, frankly I'm worried. Every one of his teachers is, of course. I suppose I don't need to tell you how he's changed lately."

Blaine nodded.

"Well, I know his parents are here now speaking to Mrs. Smithson about his academic responsibilities and I've already brought this to them but...I wanted you to see it to. Maybe its out of my place, but once you see what I have to show you, you'll understand why I feel so compelled to do something. Since your his friend, I was hoping maybe you could speak to him about it." She said, sounding very worried.

"Ok, I'll see what I can do but Kurt and I...well, we haven't been close lately. He hasn't been close to anyone lately." He said sadly.

Miss. Peterson nodded. "I understand...but have a look at this anyways. It's the poem he submitted for an assignment due today. At first, I was pleased he'd actually done the work but then...well, then I read it. It's...disturbing."

She handed Blaine a piece of paper, with a short poem written on it. Blaine read the poem, his hands making the paper tremble. The poem was called "Lover's Tale".

Blood drops on the sheets;

Symbols of your affection

I lie torn and tangled inside them

You cleave into me; aching to consume

I arch my back; aching to be consumed.

"It's a beautiful poem, and maybe if someone else had written it I wouldn't be so concerned but...given his recent personality shift, I simply cannot ignore something like this."

Blaine nodded. He felt a little like vomiting. What was happening to his friend?


By the time Blaine was reading the poem he had written, Kurt would have been shoved up against the wall with Finn pressing roughly inside him.

It was an hour later now, and Kurt was lying half asleep inside his own covers. The lubricant Finn had poured on him was crusting over his skin, mixed with semen, sweat and tears. He wanted desperately to fall asleep, to drop off into some black abyss where he couldn't feel the grime covering his body, but sleep wouldn't come. Not completely.

In the back of his mind, he heard the phone ring. A moment later, there was a knock at his door.

"Uh, Kurt you awake?" His father asked, peaking into the room. Kurt stiffened under his covers. Go away, go away, go away, he thought.

"Blaine's on the phone, Kurt." His father continued quietly. Christ. Why couldn't Blaine get the goddamned message and leave him alone already?

"I don't want to talk to him." Kurt mumbled quietly, but loud enough for his father to hear him.

"Blaine, I'm sorry but he's asleep right now. Could you call back later?"

"I won't want to talk to him later, either..." Kurt growled. His dad ignored him.

"Kurt, Blaine says it's important."

"I said that I DO NOT WANT TO FUCKING SPEAK WITH HIM!" Kurt shouted. He knew Blaine would of heard him, and he hoped that was finally enough for him to get it through his head that they were not friends anymore.

Burt closed the door and Kurt heard him tell Blaine that he just wasn't feeling right, right now. Kurt closed his eyes, and was finally able to fall asleep.


Blaine sat his desk, still staring at the phone. He blinked back tears. Kurt sounded so angry, so bitter. He couldn't understand what happened.

What had happened to the boy who had smiled and laughed when he'd sung Teenage Dream to him?

What had happened to the boy who joked that it wasn't fair for him to have a monopoly on the world's supply of hair gel?

What happened to his beautiful friend, who he'd grown so close to. Grown to love.

Blaine thought of his poem, "Lover's Tale". Blood drops on the sheets; Symbols of your affection.

Where had that boy gone. Was he dead now? Was he lost forever?

I lie torn and tangled inside them.

What did that mean. Had someone hurt him? Blaine put his head in his hands. Who could it have been about? What could it have been about?

You cleave into me; aching to consume.

The poem was disturbing, Miss. Peterson had been right about that. To Blaine, it seemed it could only be about one thing. The first four lines certainly seem to suggest it. Blaine felt sick at the thought, sick to think someone had hurt Kurt like that. It seemed like that was what it was about...until Blaine got to the last line of the poem. The part that disturbed him the most, the part that confused and scared him:

I arch my back; aching to be consumed.

"You need to see a councilor." Burt told his son. Kurt was sitting on the couch, his legs and arms crossed and Burt and Carole were across from him. Upon his fathers request (demand) Kurt had gotten out of bed and joined them for dinner. He had cleaned himself up in the shower first, but he could still feel the dirt and grime clinging to his body. That wasn't new though; he always felt dirty now.

Kurt stared at his father in disbelief. "I need to what?" He screeched.

"A councilor. We spoke to Mrs. Smithson, and your teachers will let you make up your grades and assignments on the condition that you attending meetings with the school guidance councillor at least twice a week."

Kurt tried to control his voice as he answered. "Fuck no."

Burt blinked, trying not to let the words shock him. "It's not up for debate, Kurt. You're doing real bad right now. Not just in school either. If you won't talk to me or Carole about it, then you're going to have to talk to someone."

"I...I, I'm fine!" He cried. Why couldn't they just leave him the fuck alone?

"What's going on?" Finn asked, coming down the stairs.

"Your brother's going to see a councillor on account of how he's failing two classes, not to mention worrying everyone who cares about him." Burt said, staring at Kurt. Kurt rolled his eyes.

Finn snorted. "A councillor? I doubt that'll fix him. He's fucked up."

Kurt stiffened. Finn...wouldn't tell them, would he? He couldn't. They'd both be in trouble.

"Finn, that's not very nice." Carole said. Finn laughed again. It was a sick noise, and Kurt felt like crying. Why was he like this? Had he done something to offend him?

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt the princesses feelings?" Finn asked in a biting tone. Kurt cringed.

"Finn, Kurt is going through a tough time right now and it would be nice for his brother support him." Burt said, his tone sharp.

Finn rolled his eyes. "Oh, Kurt's going through a tough time? Excuse me, I am so sorry." He said, storming back upstairs.

"Kurt, I'm sorry. I don't know what's gotten into him." Carole said.

Kurt shrugged, pretending he didn't care. "I...it's fine." He said quietly.


Finn lay on his bed, his eyes shut tight. For a few minutes he was worried someone would come up and try and talk to him. But no one came.

Of course not. They wouldn't leave Kurt in his time of need. Finn felt sick. Kurt's grades slip a little and he stops prancing around all the time like a goddamned fairy, and it's a national emergency. Finn get's his heart ripped from his fucking chest, and the only thing that makes him feel better is fucking his goddamned step-brother, and no one notices. No one bats an eyelash.

Finn groaned, and rubbed his eyes. He felt disgusting. Almost always did after he fucked Kurt. It helped when he was doing it, but afterwards he couldn't help but feel dirty. He knew he should stop, but what else could he do? No one else gave a fuck, at least Kurt was willing.

He knew that meant he should probably take a little easier on him, treat him with more respect, but he couldn't help feeling like if Kurt was a little less of a drama queen then maybe someone would pay attention to him for once. What was he so upset about, anyways? He got off from it too, didn't he? Always.

Even if he screamed, he always came just as hard as Finn did, and he loved it.


A/N For the record, the parts of the story that are from Kurt's perspective (And Blaine's and Finn's respectively) are from their perspective. What they see. So if it seems like Burt and Carole aren't paying much attention to him, that doesn't mean they aren't, he just isn't noticing.