Come What May
Kurt was "better" after a day or two, able to fake his way through his smiles and look Blaine in the eye without the guilt choking him. He could barely kiss him back, but he had to. He had to get past this. He didn't know what he'd do if he didn't. He kept the bruises and tiny cuts covered and hidden away from him, using scarves, sweaters and makeup to do so.
He waited awhile before he went back to the theatre to tell Blaine hi, watch him perform and just be near him. Liz stayed with him most of the time, laughing, talking, making him believe that everything was going to be okay.
She and Blaine were on stage for "All I Care About" when Roland came up behind him, clamping one hand over his mouth and the other on his groin. He whimpered, tensing and trying not to tremble. "Come here," the director hissed, his stubble digging into his neck. He guided him back into his office, feeling his heart start to pound and his body tremble.
He stared at him when he was shoved in, trying to stay strong. "What do you want?" He asked, voice steady. "I did what you wanted. We're done!"
Roland rushed forward, grabbing his neck, slamming him against the wall. He squeezed his throat, face red and just a breath from his.
"You're done when I say we're done," he growled, squeezing tighter. "You talk to me like that again and I'll beat the shit out of you and fire that bitch of yours."
Roland grabbed his shirt, tearing it open, sending a few buttons flying. He spun him around, slamming him against the wall. "Now, you take this like a good boy and we won't have any problems, alright?"
No, no, he'll notice if you do that! He was already about to cry. No, not again. Please, I barely lived through the last time.
Roland spun him around, slamming him against the brick.
"Take the rest off yourself," he commanded.
"B-bu-"
"Do it!" He growled. Kurt jumped, his trembling little hands going to the button on his pants. No, no why did he have to do this again? Once was enough…
He stripped himself naked in front of this man who refused to take an article of clothing off, furthering Kurt's humiliation. "On your knees, now," he snapped. The younger man allowed a sob past his lips as he fell, hanging his head.
Roland grabbed his hair, forcing his head back. "Now, it's up to you how bad it hurts this time, got it?" Tears pricked the corners of Kurt's eyes as he nodded. "Good. Open your mouth." Kurt hesitated. Roland slapped him. "Open it!" He squeezed the joints of his jaw, making him.
Kurt was choking, trying to open his throat so he wouldn't gag and take some sort of control of the situation. But Roland held his hair in a vice, thrusting so fast Kurt almost threw up. He whimpered, mostly at the awful taste, and at what he was doing.
Oh, Blaine, what am I doing to us? He wondered. Tears slid down his cheeks; he couldn't help it.
"Such a good little mouth you have," he grinned, slapping him again. "Yeah, such a good, good boy…"
It seemed to carry on forever before the porcelain skinned boy was allowed to breathe properly again, choking on sobs, staring up at him with pleading eyes.
"Don't think you'll get off that easy." He hauled him up by his hair, tossing him against the wall again.
Kurt sobbed aloud when he felt fingers inside of him, trying to open him up. He winced and tensed away, trying to get him out of him. "Stop it," he begged softly. "Stop it, please."
"Fine," Roland growled, pressing against him. Kurt whimpered, turning his face away. He forced his mouth open again, shoving the scarf he was wearing down his throat as a makeshift gag. "You want it to hurt? I'll let it hurt."
Kurt's scream was muffled, as were the ones that followed. He couldn't stop himself from crying this time, it hurt too much.
He was slammed against the wall over and over again, arms huddled to his chest, eyes closed, trying to remember what Blaine's embrace felt like. It wasn't like this, hard, cold, painful. Blaine was soft, warm and so, so gentle.
He lost all strength in his legs, having to totally rely on the wall to support him. Roland had his hair again, proving his power over him.
Kurt cried, trying so hard to ignore the feeling of having this man inside him. He shuddered against the wall, trying not to say Blaine's name, saying it to beg him to forgive him for what he was doing.
"Blaine…" He moaned into the gag, sobbing a little.
"Yeah, you like it, don't you?" He grunted, his hand slipping around to his front, grasping his member.
Kurt squealed, earning him a hard slap on his backside. "Shh," he hissed, licking his ear. "Shut the fuck up or I'll make it worse."
He threw him to the floor, forcing his legs apart and his wrists down. Kurt trembled, looking away from him. He didn't want to look at him while he did this. No, no…all he wanted was his husband's arms.
It ended just like the first time. Roland stood, fastened his pants and left with a smirk. Kurt sobbed, got dressed, threw up and walked out.
Liz was waiting right there in her costume, looking worried and horrified. "What's wrong?" He said, voice steady.
"I…I heard," she whispered, unable to talk any louder. His eyes grew, skin paling.
"What," he breathed, swallowing hard. "What did you hear?"
"I, I heard you crying." He stared at her, shaking his head.
"Please, don't tell Blaine," he begged. "Please, if I tell him then…the Roland will fire him, please." She stared at him, at the swelling in his eyes, at how wounded and scared he was, and how utterly desperate he was to keep this a secret. "Liz, please."
"Okay, okay," she surrendered. "I won't tell."
"Thank you." He was on the verge of tears.
"Hey, baby," Blaine came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. Kurt winced very softly before smiling. He turned, hugging him tight.
"Hi, Blaine."
"Where'd you disappear to?" He asked curiously.
"Oh, just wandering," he shrugged. Liz tried to keep her expression blank, tried to keep her own emotions out of this. But she knew how much agony Kurt was in. She understood what this was doing to him and how badly it hurt. But she smiled.
"Let's go get dinner," Blaine grinned.
"Okay," Kurt grinned, subtly dodging Blaine's kiss and letting it land on his cheek.
He gave his friend another look before they left, showing her just how much pain he was in, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Three weeks later…
It happened again, and again, and again, and again…
Kurt was used, beaten and practically raped nearly every day. He started to shut himself down. He got quieter, more reserved. He barely let Blaine look at him, let alone touch him. He stopped eating, he hardly slept, he dressed in long-sleeved sweaters and scarves to hide the bruises and bite marks.
Once, he was lying down to go to sleep, staying as far away from Blaine as he could, facing the other way, when Blaine wrapped his arm around his chest.
Kurt took a deep breath, tensing. Blaine nuzzled his nose in Kurt's hair and neck, kissing him softly. Kurt jerked away.
"What are you doing?" He snapped.
"Um, making love to my husband," he said playfully, kissing his ear. Kurt shut his eyes, feeling Roland's hands on him, heard his voice in his ear. He shuddered and pulled away.
"Not tonight, Blaine, I'm really tired." He mumbled. Blaine frowned, settling his arm around him and giving his neck one more kiss. "Blaine, I said no!" He snapped, jerking away again.
Blaine retracted as if Kurt had burned him, looking hurt. He stared at the back of his head, not understanding what he'd done wrong. This was the first night in a long time where he and Kurt were awake and able to be around each other for a night. And Kurt didn't…oh what did he do?
What Blaine didn't see was the river of tears falling rapidly from his husbands eyes.
He can't touch me. I'm too dirty for him to touch. Oh no, no, he can't touch me!
He cried for hours, cried until Blaine rolled over in his sleep, absently wrapping his arm around him. Kurt sobbed once, leaning back into his warmth.
"I wish I could tell you…" he breathed. "I love you, Blaine, I love you so much…" He laced his fingers in his, slowly drifting off to sleep.