There was a perfectly reasonable explanation for why Kurt Hummel was sitting on a bed with tears stains down his cheeks and another boy's lips attached to his own. He had a perfect excuse for why this boy's hands were holding him tightly and why they were kissing like there was no tomorrow, like they had all the time in the world…
Yes, there was a perfectly reasonable explanation. Kurt just couldn't remember was it was right then.
Earlier That Same Day, 4 o'clock, Dalton Library—
"Hey, gorgeous," Blaine said as he dropped into the seat across from Kurt's. The countertenor barely looked up from his homework, only to give a look. "Am I not allowed to call you that? Oh, right—the boyfriend."
"Daniel is not my boyfriend."
"Okay, the handsome TA who flirts with you. So, Kurt," he stressed the name this time, smirking, "What are you working on?"
"Chemistry."
"Hm…I could help with that."
"Do the innuendoes ever stop with you?"
"You make it too easy, babe." Kurt looked up, glaring. "Right, sorry. But it's true. You do make it too easy."
"Why are you here?"
"Didn't you say we were friends two days ago?"
"Yeah."
"So, I'm hanging out with my friend." Blaine rested his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand. "Hey, buddy."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Stop being rude."
Blaine copied Kurt's eye roll, setting down his arm. "Whatever. Anyway, I was actually wondering if you can help me with something."
"Yeah?"
"I need to get my bike back on campus."
Kurt laughed. "Not happening. I had to make up a huge story to get the motorcycle even back to your garage at home. You owe me thirty bucks—I bribed the truck driver who took it back."
"All the cab drivers that are called from this school have been trained to ask you for your weekend pass before you're allowed to leave. I need to get out."
"So here's an idea. Be nice, pay attention, do your homework, actually share something during group, and you'll get a pass." Kurt looked back down at his work. "Now, if you'll excuse me."
"Your tie's crooked," Blaine muttered as he stood. "Later, Kurt."
5:04, school grounds—
Kurt tugged on his tie, loosening it as he walked back to his dorm. The sun was setting and soon it would be dark, so he wanted to hurry back. About thirty yards from the building, however, a figure blocked his path.
"Sorry, excuse me," he mumbled, trying to get around.
"Not so fast, homo."
Kurt swallowed tightly, looking up. There were three boys. All three were meaty and big and caused a tremor to go down his spine as PTSD from the last year of locker-slams and Dumpster-tosses set in.
"So, we're new here," a Hispanic boy to the left said. "And we hear you're the nicest kid on campus."
"Yeah," the boy in the middle agreed. He was taller than the other two, slightly thinner, but with large arms. "A little too nice."
"So, fairy," the final boy on the right said as he smirked. He was blonde and tall, glaring down with evil eyes. "Why don't you show us to the horse stables? The horse crap is calling."
Kurt clenched his jaw. This was not happening right now. Nobody he'd ever met at this school had had a problem with him being gay. Then again, he'd known it all along. There was always going to be someone around to kick his ass. It was the social order.
"Cat got your tongue, lady?"
But the social order didn't mean anything here. Here he could be whatever he wanted. Here he could stand up for himself and fight back instead of being submissive or begging.
"We're talking to you! Hey, fa—"
Kurt slammed through them, walking towards his dorm. Ugh. That word set his teeth on edge.
"Hold on a moment, pretty boy. We're not done with you." A hand clasped onto his shoulder and before Kurt could stop himself, he had turned around and kneed the guy in the groin.
Doubled over in pain, hands clutching his crotch, the guy glared at him, his eyes watering.
"What are you waiting for?" he demanded of his friends. "Get him!"
Kurt took off running. But the guys were faster. They got him right at the steps of the building, picking him up with ease, despite his kicking and protesting. "Put me down! This is Alexander McQueen, you thick imbeciles!"
"Who's that?" one of them laughed. "Your boyfriend?"
"Excuse me, gentlemen."
Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no, no! Not this. Anything but this.
The jocks carrying him spun to face the voice. Daniel was standing on the steps, hands on his hips, eyebrows raised and eyes harsh. "Where do you think you're going with Mr. Hummel?"
The bullies exchanged a glance before dropping Kurt promptly onto the grass. "Nowhere," the Hispanic boy grunted. Kurt stood, brushing himself off. "Have a nice day, homo."
They grabbed their leader and scurried off, muttering something about getting even.
Kurt was almost scared to turn and face Daniel. He was sure he was red and he was sure that he was messy and stupid looking and…
"Kurt," Daniel said softly, a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"'m fine." He picked up his bag from where it had fallen, putting it on his shoulder.
"No you're not."
He sniffed, wiping his eyes. "I have to go inside."
"Kurt…" Daniel turned him around, lifting his chin. "Do you want to talk about it?"
As the tears started falling, he nodded. "Yeah." Daniel opened his mouth to say something, but Kurt was flying into his arms, burying his face in his shoulder. "Please."
"Come on."
5:20, Daniel's dorm room—
"Whenever you're ready to talk, Kurt."
They had been sitting there for almost ten minutes, just watching each other. Daniel's hands had been twitching slightly, wanting to reach out for the younger boy, but he remained where he was. Kurt looked down and around the room and everywhere but at Daniel for a while before he began. "I was bullied. A lot. Dumpster tosses, slushie facials, swirlies, getting slammed into lockers, every slur and insult in the book…" Kurt swallowed, looking up at Daniel who was sitting on the other side of the bed, leaning against the headboard. "It wasn't so terrible at first. I understood that they were doing it because I was gay and I was…different. Then this Neanderthal started getting more aggressive. And nobody noticed." He wiped away a tear, looking back down at his hands. "He kissed me. And threatened to kill me if I told anyone."
"But your parents…"
"My dad's great, really, but… He wouldn't understand. It killed him, the first time he heard someone call me a f… A fa—"
"Don't say it."
Kurt laughed harshly. "It doesn't matter."
"Of course it matters, Kurt. It's bullying in its most cruel and unusual form. Kids kill themselves because of things like this. What about your mom? Could you tell your mom?"
He shook his head. "She's dead. When I was eight."
Daniel's hands grabbed his. "Kurt, I'm so sorry."
"It's alright. I mean…I miss her. A lot. But, it doesn't hurt as much as it used to." Kurt's eyes peaked up through his eyelashes, meeting Daniel's. "I could've handled the bullying. I know it. I could've if I'd had…anyone. My friends are nice, but…they don't know what to do. They're just kids like I am. We're all confused together."
"I wish I had been there. I wish someone, anyone, had been there."
"Me too." Sniffing, he sat up straight and squeezed Daniel's hands. "Thank you. For listening."
"Anytime. Always." A hand found its way away from Kurt's and to the brunette's jaw. "I'm in awe of you, though. That you've lived through this and didn't break sooner." His thumb stroked smooth skin. "Do you mind if I ask what you did to end up here?"
"Another case of bullying. The guy told me if I used a fake ID to buy him and his friends an absurd amount of liquor, he'd lay off me for a week."
Daniel shook his head. "Kurt…I'm so proud of you. I'm not that strong. I was never that strong. I never would have survived all of that."
"Yeah, well, look at me. I haven't survived."
"You've never taken drugs, have you? You're not dead. You're here, Kurt. And you're a lot better off now than I was at your age." He scooted closer, his nose right up against Kurt's. "I admire you."
"Why?"
"Because you didn't just go ahead and let them ruin you. Staying sane was your way of fighting back. And Kurt?"
"Yeah?"
"Could I…could I kiss you?"
Kurt blushed slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."
So yes, there was an explanation for why Daniel was pressing him into the mattress and kissing him: he felt cared about. He felt attractive and wanted and...things he hadn't felt since… He shook the thought off. It was just nice to feel this way.
5:08, same day, school grounds in front of dorm building C—
Blaine froze where he was, just watching. His brain tried to force his legs to move, to run over and make the bullies stop. He tried to plan it out in his head—he would tear the first guy away from Kurt and punch him. He'd elbow the next guy in the gut and kick the legs out from under the final guy. Blaine was just about to move when he saw Kurt knee the biggest guy in the groin.
Everything happening was too fast and too dramatic. All he caught was that the guys tossed Kurt's bag to the ground and lifted him up and then he was seeing red. But he wasn't moving. He couldn't move. Why couldn't he move?
And then he heard a familiar voice. A voice that he didn't particularly like. And the bullies were leaving and Daniel-the-perfect-TA-slash-musician was walking over to Kurt.
Blaine took a step. Finally, his brain screamed as he took another one. But he stopped. Because Kurt was in this guy's arms. There was no kissing. It was utterly innocent. Just a hug. So why was Blaine's heart pounding out of his chest? Why was he pissed off at the world? Why did he just want to walk over, tear Kurt out of this guy's arms and punch him right in face?
Why?
Most importantly, why didn't he care this time that he felt this way?
-0-
There was a perfectly reasonable explanation for why Blaine Anderson was in his room, fists clenched, ready to hit something. Anything. He had a perfect excuse for why he stood and kicked the wall, following up with a fist that did nothing but hurt his knuckles…
Yes, there was a perfectly reasonable explanation. And Blaine could remember what it was all too clearly: he wanted Kurt. He didn't care how. He didn't care if he never had sex again. He just wanted Kurt.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Reviews are much appreciated. I answer questions and tell you guys anything you want to know at my blog:
Mythoughtshavenooffswitch [dot] tumblr [dot] com
Love always,
E. M. Zeray