Part Ten
The unfamiliar room slowly swam into focus. Kurt Hummel woke with sore muscles, a swollen cheek, and a headache. Something heavy and round rested on his stomach. Once he managed to get a grip on the horrible pounding in his head, he blinked away cobwebs and glanced down. A head of curly black hair lay on his belly and strong arms were wrapped around his waist.
Blaine. Kurt grunted and the older boy shifted. Troubled brown eyes peered back at him. The older boy looked absolutely wrecked. Dark circles shadowed his normally bright eyes and a nasty cut split his bottom lip.
"I-I'm sorry," Blaine blurted plaintively, "I'm sorry."
All of the anger flooded out of Kurt's body as soon as the broken, sincere words left his friend's mouth. Blaine scrambled off the bed and stumbled towards a dresser. A tray of orange juice, water, and a plate of food rattled loudly as Blaine set it down on a nearby nightstand.
"A-are you hungry? Thirsty?" Blaine's voice cracked with emotion. "I—I think you should eat something."
"W-where are we?" Kurt asked timidly. "Arizona?"
"Yes," Blaine nodded, "In Sedona. The house belongs to a family that Wes' family knows about—no one uses this place anymore."
"Blaine," Kurt reached for his friend's hand, "What happened to your lip?"
"Wes hit me," Blaine croaked and touched his swollen lip, "We had a fight."
The admission stung. Kurt had no idea how to handle something like this. An odd mixture of emotions tugged at his heart: anger, fear, pity, sorrow, and love. The last one surprised him the most. Kurt loved Blaine despite everything that had happened, but he couldn't quite understand it. Finn's explosion in the basement last spring had crushed any romantic feelings he'd had for him. The way Finn had said faggy had hurt more than anything he'd suffered through before, because Finn was supposed to be different. When cold, hard reality had set in, Kurt had realized that the Finn he had loved didn't exist. Finn loved acceptance and popularity a lot more than he let on. Once his father had kicked the other boy out of the house, Kurt had crawled into his bed and cried himself to sleep. The tears had been a catharsis: a purification process that had officially ended his crush on Finn.
All of Blaine's masks had been shattered right before his eyes, yet he still loved him. Their friendship had deep roots, something he had never experienced with Finn. Blaine looked completely different now. He was no longer a charming teenager wise beyond his years. Blaine Anderson was just a scared, insecure boy. They weren't so different now.
"I thought it was a teacher," Kurt muttered, "that night when you were upset-I saw some bruises on your back. I should have said something."
"Don't say that," Blaine said and plopped down onto the bed, "It was my problem, not yours."
"You helped me when I needed it," Kurt insisted, "I should have helped you."
"Kurt," Blaine leaned on his elbows, "I act like I know what's going on, but I don't. I just pretend like I do. I didn't help you at all. I just made things worse-and look what's happened, where we are-this is my entire fault."
"Blaine," Kurt sat up and placed his hands on Blaine's shoulders, "You did help me."
"How can you even look at me?" Blaine sobbed. "I told you to stand up to your bullies, when I couldn't stand up to my own. I didn't even have it nearly as bad as you had it at McKinley. They called me names, threw things at me, and stole my stuff, but the only time they ever touched me was when they stripped me and left me in a field without any clothes on. I didn't even try to get them punished for it. I got on a plane and went to see my Dad. I begged him to let me change schools."
The story poured out of Blaine so quickly that Kurt had trouble processing it. He thought about all of the times the jocks had harassed him and he'd hid from his father, friends, and teachers. The athletes never got in trouble for bullying students unless they targeted someone based on their race or their religion. The jocks knew better than to go after the minorities in the school, but they still slushied girls and harassed Artie if they could get away with it. Kurt had been their favorite target because they knew no one except a teacher would discourage any rough treatment.
At least he'd had a father to support him through everything. Even though he didn't tell his dad about all of the bullying he went through on a daily basis, going home to someone that loved him had him handle the worst days. Blaine saw his father once or twice a year at most and his mother couldn't support him due to her mental illness. No one pushes the Hummels around. Kurt didn't think he could have handled everything without his dad. Maybe he would have dated someone like Karofsky for protection or tried to hide under layers of flannel or plaid; just like Blaine hid behind charm and wisdom.
"I need you now," Kurt tried again, "don't you get it? We have to get out of here-and away from Wes. You can't stay with him."
"I was gonna break up with him, you know," Blaine informed him as he pulled him into an embrace, "he never used to be violent, but it's just, gotten out of hand, and now he's-out of control."
"Where is he now?" Kurt prodded and wrapped his arms around the older boy. "Why did he leave us alone?"
"He went out," Blaine replied stiffly and trembled, "I'm not sure where-I—he got mad at me."
Kurt wanted to ask about their fight, but instinct told him he should leave it alone for the moment. A need to pee hit his kidneys and he sighed, hesitant to break contact. Blaine breathed heavily and hot tears fell onto his neck.
"I have to pee," he admitted reluctantly, "will you help me up? I've been sleeping too much lately."
His pathetic attempt at dark humor fell flat. Blaine paled even more and instantly helped him out of the bed. Kurt leaned on his friend. A pained grimace twisted the other boy's face.
"What's wrong?" Kurt asked as they stumbled towards the bathroom. "Maybe I should try to go on my own."
"No!" Blaine shouted. "I'm f-fine. I'll help."
They made it to the bathroom without further incident. Kurt could tell the extra weight hurt Blaine, but neither boy acknowledged it. Undressing proved difficult while the drugs still affected his uncooperative limbs. Blaine blushed but gently pulled down Kurt's sweat pants. The skin on skin contact managed to excite him despite the utter inappropriate circumstances. He clamped down on any candid desires and politely told Blaine he could handle it from there.
Kurt relieved himself as Blaine stepped outside and quickly took care of business. The tiles kept changing shape, but he stayed upright, so it was definitely an improvement. Painfully familiar nausea threatened to creep up on him. Cold water helped ease the unpleasant feeling. After several refreshing splashes, Blaine reentered the bathroom and calmly pulled Kurt's pants back up.
"I forgot about that," Kurt blushed, "I'm sorry."
"It's all right," Blaine reassured him, "I promise-I promise I'll find a way out of this. I won't let Wes hurt you, Kurt."
"You mean we'll find a way out," Kurt insisted, "I won't let you get hurt either."
Blaine's dark eyes locked with Kurt's blue ones. They stared at each other for a long moment and somehow it was more intimate than anything he'd experienced before. Their vulnerability and passion were right there in front of them and on display for each other to see. Blaine's lips suddenly crashed against his. The kiss surprised him, but he returned it with the same vigor.
Fear, need, and love fueled their kisses. Kurt let Blaine maneuver him back to the bed while they explored each other's mouths. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a tiny voice of reason told him this wasn't the time or place for such an intimate declaration of feelings. Blaine kissed his neck and slender fingers found their way under his hoodie. Kurt whimpered with pleasure as they brushed over his nipples and he arched his back, aching for more contact.
The drugs had impaired his ability to think properly, but they certainly didn't hamper his hormones. Feeling returned to every part of his body more quickly than he anticipated and his legs tingled as Blaine's mouth hovered over his nipples. Hot breath ghosted across the tender skin. Kurt let out a cry once Blaine swirled his tongue and licked him in all the right places.
Blaine abruptly paused and fixed an intense stare on him.
"I love you," Blaine whispered and clutched his hand, "I-we can stop if you want."
"No," Kurt replied sincerely, "I need this."
"It's too fast," Blaine began, "I think-."
Kurt silenced him with a chaste kiss.
"Don't think," he begged, "I just want to do this. We can stop anytime. I want to feel safe again."
Of course, they didn't stop soon enough. Their desperation for safety and warmth ended with Kurt losing his virginity in a strange bedroom. Time drifted away. They ate once their haphazard and awkward first time was over. Blaine's eyes softened every time he looked at him. Kurt smiled as he climbed back into the large bed. The sex had been a bit hurried and zealous, but it had felt good. For the first time in days, he ached in a pleasant way. The welts on his back didn't hurt as much anymore. Other places felt stretched out and a little sore, but Blaine had been extremely careful not to hurt him.
Blaine got underneath the covers with him and wrapped his body around Kurt. The other boy drifted into an exhausted sleep. Kurt wasn't tired since he'd slept so much for the last few days, so his mind started to wander. He wondered what Mercedes would think if he told her that he was no longer a virgin. Her obnoxious zebra print shirt came to mind, which made him wish he could call her. Mercedes would want vivid details and she would possibly get grossed out when he divulged too much. She always chided him when he shared too much information.
A part of him knew that the sassy diva would have slapped him and talked him out of sleeping with Blaine. It's too fast, baby. Tears welled in his eyes and regret crept up on him. They should have waited; he had wanted his first time to be romantic. The sex had felt pretty good. He knew that much, but it wasn't anything like he'd imagined it would be. I didn't feel anything. Finn's description of his own first time haunted him, but at least Kurt had done it with someone he cared about.
The nausea he'd felt earlier returned full force. Kurt bolted out of bed and ran for the bathroom. The dinner he had eaten less than an hour before came up with fury. He kept heaving into the toilet, but nothing else came up. The porcelain bowl cooled his forehead and he focused solely on the sensation. Blaine continued to sleep soundly in the next room, exhaustion and stress claiming his worn out body.
Kurt took several deep breaths and forced himself to calm down. They had done nothing wrong; they loved each other. What they had was special. He remembered the first time he'd seen Blaine on the stairs. So many things could have gone differently. The Warblers might have punished him spying and kicked him out for trespassing, but instead they had invited him for coffee. Blaine had thrown Kurt a lifeline when he'd been drowning.
The faint notes of Teenage Dream echoed through his mind and he remembered how happy he had been standing in the commons. Blaine had driven two hours south and helped him confront a dangerous, closeted bully in the middle of a school day. They had seen RENT together and had a disastrous dinner at BreadStix with Mercedes.
Blaine loved him. Kurt wiped his mouth and walked back into the bedroom. The older boy didn't stir as he got under the covers and embraced him. Tears stained his cheeks, but he wasn't so upset anymore that they had gone too far too fast. They had other things to worry about. Wes would be back eventually. They weren't safe as long as they were here. Fear started to eat away at him and he gripped Blaine's arms tighter.
"I love you," he confessed to the silence, "but I just want to go home."