A/N Ahhh! My life is a joke. Just done. And it's snowing like crazy outside.
I love you all and I cry 1,000 tears for the delay. (Like, specifically, 1,000 tears, 500 from each eye)
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee
"Th-this okay? I don't – I don't want to you make you – uncomfortable," Blaine stammered out, his breath hitching as Kurt ran a hand over his growing hardness through his boxer-briefs and moved to straddle his waist.
"Mmmm," he kissed and lightly nibbled Blaine's collarbone, earning a choking groan from the boy, "mmhmm," Kurt hummed a needy, affirmative response, tilting his head to get better access at the tan boy's neck, his skin tingling where his boyfriend's fingers were under the waistband of his underwear, hesitating to pull them down. When the curly-haired boy inched them down a small amount, then stopped, returning them to their original position on the pale boy's hips, Kurt groaned in frustration.
"You're sure? I-if you don't—"
"Blaine." Kurt sat up straight in his boyfriend's lap, wincing slightly at the strain it had on his bruises, but ran his hands down the boy's shirtless chest and stomach, looking him in the eyes. "We've seen each other naked. And we've…made each other come… This is just both of those things," Kurt reasoned the last party quickly with a blush, though his face shifted to a small smirk when his boyfriend's mouth hung open slightly at this, and he felt Blaine's dick twitch under his thigh.
"Uuugh," Blaine groaned at his boyfriend's words and yanked him back down on top of him, as gently as he could, attacking his lips and gripping Kurt's boxers and tugging them down to his knees, the pale boy adjusting to kick them off to the floor beside his bed. Before the curly-haired boy could react, Kurt yanked his underwear off as well, throwing them somewhere unimportant.
Both boys' breathing was shaky and nervous as they stopped their kissing for a moment to just take in each other's bodies, never having done so in a situation like this.
Blaine let out a trembling sigh and lowered his gaze down his boyfriend's body, his hard penis, his hand trailing along the boy's side to rest at his thigh. "You look…" He trailed off, his words failing him as he shifted his eyes back up to meet the other boy's, a small, fond smile on his lips.
"You too," Kurt replied breathily, a deep blush in his cheeks as he tore his eyes away from Blaine's naked body, meeting his steady gaze and swallowing thickly.
Blaine opened his mouth to say something – anything, really – but was struck with the sudden urge to surge up to meet his boyfriend's lips, up to where the pale boy was hovering above his naked torso, also temptingly unclothed.
So he did.
Jeff sighed, wiping a hand down his face tiredly and staring at his phone blankly, waiting for a reply message.
Buzz!
haha i kno! Well i gtg but i hope u n daddy make it home 4 xmas. luv u bby bro! – S
He stared at the message for a few moments before lazily typing out a short response and sending it.
Yeah, he hoped he made it home for Christmas, too…
"Hello Jeffrey," Nick chirped sweetly, entering the common room. He plopped into the seat opposite of the blonde boy, startling him just slightly, but earning a timid smile. "Whatcha doin'?" He inquired lightly, eyeing the cellphone in his roommate's hands as Jeff pocketed it, shrugging.
"I was just…talking to Sarah."
Nick's lips twitched up, and his eyebrow rose slightly at the name. "Ah, yes. Sarah Mae. How's she?" Jeff knew he was asking more as a joke, or rhetorically, but he shrugged anyway.
"She's fine… I feel kinda bad though. She's been home since Monday, and so far she's only really gotten so spend time with my mom," Jeff shared a knowing look with Nick at the mention of his mother, then paused, "and Chloe, I guess, but I don't think she's really a source of intelligent conversation or company," he commented, shrugging lightly.
Nick smiled at his friend, remembering his roommate's seven year old sister that resembled him and Sarah so closely. "Yeah," he chuckled in agreement, moving to cross his legs and watch Jeff's face fall slightly in the silence. "Don't be too bummed, man. You'll probably be able to leave soon…" At Jeff's not-very-convincing nod and smile, Nick added, "Besides, I thought you were gonna miiiss me? Now you're pissed you have to stay?" He feigned a look of shock and pain, placing his hand over his heart, 'tsk'ing in offence. "I'm hurt, Jeffrey, I truly am…"
At this, the blonde cracked a small smile and glanced up to the dark-haired boy, causing Nick to drop his façade and smile as well, reaching over to his chair to give him a playful shove in the shoulder. Jeff nodded slightly. "Yeah – no, I'm happy I get to see you… All you guys, you know," he corrected quickly with a subtle blush, his eyes darting to the floor, Nick smiling softly at the sight, "I was just…looking forward to having some time away from, um…the school, and everything… The campus… The…teachers…"
Nick pulled his lips together and nodded understandingly, humming in agreement, letting his eyes drift out of the near window to the outside world, where the weather seemed to be currently calm and pleasant…
Jeff's eyes narrowed slightly in thought and he turned to his roommate with a curious look on his face, his voice taking a different, lighter tone as he changed the subject. "Nick, do you know where Kurt is?"
Blaine let out short, panting moans as he hungrily took in the sight of his boyfriend's hard, leaking cock, grasped in his hand as he stroked it messily, focusing becoming difficult as Kurt's pale hand was currently wrapped around his dick, and was expertly moving it along his length as the boys lay side by side, hands on each other.
"F-fuck," Kurt stammered, startling Blaine as his boyfriend suddenly released the curly-haired boy's cock, his hands flying up to dig into Blaine's chest, his eyes clamping closed.
Apparently, Blaine had done something right…
His thoughts were confirmed further when the pale boy let out a strangled moan, sounding positively beautiful as he groaned, his head falling into Blaine's chest. "Don't," he breathed, seemingly having a hard time creating coherent sentences, or breathing, for that matter, "don't stop," he tried again, and Blaine just ate up the sight before him, swearing he could almost get off just watching the boy in front of him.
Kurt's eyes opened, revealing their half-lidded, lustful quality, and Blaine thought for a moment that Kurt was going to come, but instead, the boy rolled back on top of him, lying flat on his naked torso, their erections painfully close. Blaine kept his hand on Kurt's cock, but readjusted his grip so he was holding both his and his boyfriend's lengths loosely. Kurt dove forward, connecting his mouth with Blaine's in a desperate attempt to be closer to him, his tongue piercing sliding against the other boy's lips, and thrust into the boy's hand as he did so.
They let out obscene, loud moans into each other's mouths as their cocks rubbed up against each other within Blaine's grasp, slick with precum, creating sweet friction they so desperately craved. They began both jerking against each other's cocks, the hand not occupied of Blaine's wrapped firmly around Kurt's waist, as the young boy had his arms planted on the bed to support his hovering over Blaine.
"Ahhh, shit! Sonuva – fucking – uh!" Blaine rambled out loudly, realizing suddenly that this was probably the most intimate sex act he'd ever been involved in. He hoped Kurt was comfortable with everything—
"Fucking – yes!"
He sounded pretty comfortable.
Nick laughed in response, causing his roommate to eye him quizzically. "I just came down from our room and I heard him doing something through the wall…" Jeff raised an eyebrow at this, not quite following. "Sounded like moaning," Nick clarified, pronouncing each word slowly, causing the blonde to grimace slightly.
"Oh god…"
"Yeah," Nick laughed, shaking his head slightly at the memory, "and specifically the moaning of our dear countertenor and one Blaine Anderson."
Jeff let out a slight noise of discomfort. "Ah – it's so awkward when people are loud and you can…hear them, I – ugh…" He trailed off, sharing an amused, albeit uncomfortable look with his roommate as Trent joined them, collapsing into the chair beside Jeff, looking between the two roommates.
"Who?" He asked curiously, only having heard Jeff's statement.
"Kurt. And Blaine. Gettin' it on in Kurt's room," Nick supplied with a teasing, lewd tone of voice and small chuckle.
Trent simply hummed in response. "I thought they haven't fucked yet," he remembered absently, breaking off a piece of a cookie he had with him and popping it into his mouth.
Nick shrugged, letting another laugh escape him as he leaned back in his chair. "Well, they're doing something."
"Please, stop! Oh god – stop!" The young boy choked out, his blood covering too much of the ground.
Blaine exhaled shakily, his breaths becoming shorter and faster, as he numbly found himself backing away from the others. "Y-you guys, maybe—"
"Don't be a fucking pussy, B. This fag deserves this," the red-haired teen hissed, breathless, from where he was crouched over the slight, pale teen, whose blonde hair was mostly matted down with blood.
Blaine nodded, trembling and swallowing thickly, and his gaze darted back to the end of the parking lot, where their car was parked. Maybe if he snuck away without anyone noticing… But…he didn't know how to drive yet…
"Ah – please!" The blonde boy coughed out again, this time his sobbing evident in his voice.
The two other boys stood straight at this, seemingly finished with what they had done, throwing their respective weapons off to the side, but the red-haired teen brought down his metal bat again onto the injured one's back, his face meeting again with the asphalt.
"Renny—" one of the other boys warned harshly, catching the bloodied weapon in midair as it was about to be used again, "—just – just leave him. He's gonna fucking bleed to death," he hissed, as though he was concerned someone might overhear him, though the situation was obvious if there were any onlookers.
Renny scoffed lightly, holding the older boy's gaze for a few moments before surrendering, chucking the bat onto the bleeding blonde, initiating a muffled whimper, and stepping back slightly, tilting his head appreciatively at his work. "Hope you learned something, faggot," he laughed darkly, leaning forward to spit onto the boy on the ground before waltzing off in the direction of their vehicle.
Blaine remained frozen in his spot, watching the injured body shudder with sobs, the blood from his head and back leaking out onto the ground in two, smooth lines, pooling slightly, reflecting the light of the dim streetlamp in the parking lot. The curly-haired boy let out a sudden breath, conflicted, making to move towards the blonde to help – to do something – but hesitating.
"Come on, B. That fag learned his lesson. Let's go," he heard his brother calling from further down the parking lot.
"Yeah – he needs to understand that if he wants to keep being queer, we'll keep teaching him how not to be," Renny added, his voice eerily calm and mock-pleasant.
From in front of him, Blaine heard the boy on the ground cough, and mumble out, loud enough for everyone to hear, "You can fucking kill me and I won't change."
"…Okay," Kurt breathed, his voice sounding reluctant, his face mere centimeters from the other boy's, "I should get up, shower," he sighed, pecking the curly-haired boy on the lips quickly, and taking a last, appreciative look into the other's eyes, and forced himself to leave the warm safety of the bed.
Blaine sighed quietly and smiled, "shower later," he pleaded teasingly, his eyes fixed fondly on his boyfriend as the pale boy stood up from the mattress, stretching his arms over his head, giggling out a barely-audible 'oh, fiiine', through his yawn. From where he was resting on his side, one elbow propped to support his head, he curly-haired boy took a drag and blew out his cigarette smoke smoothly, a smirk playing at his lips as his eyes ran over the naked expanse of pale, white skin, though still scattered with bruises from the day before.
The boy that night. He was sort of pale, too. What if they had gotten their hands on Kurt, instead? It could have just as easily been him…
Kurt hummed a thoughtful noise as he dug through his dresser, pulling out a pair of gray boxer-briefs. He inspected them for a short moment, turning them over in his hands and arching his eyebrow, as though considering their effect on the rest of his planned outfit.
Blaine tilted his head slightly, taking in his boyfriend, rolling onto his back and putting an arm behind his head to support his neck, and took another puff of his cigarette, blinking thoughtfully. "…You sure that was okay?" He put the cigarette out into an empty cup on Kurt's bedside table, and moved to lie on his stomach, his chin resting on his folded arms.
Kurt's lips twitched up slightly, and he turned to face his boyfriend, his eyebrows together slightly in appreciation for the other boy's consideration. "Yes, Blaine. That was amazing… I didn't think about…the r – what happened – once the entire time," he mumbled, playing with the material of the underwear in his fingers. Blaine sat back up, onto the edge of the bed and raised an eyebrow at this. Seeing his expression, the pale boy continued. "I…was a little…busy. To remember the attack… Your cock rubbing all up against mine and all," he looked horribly embarrassed, not one to usually say things so bluntly, but had a slight smirk on his face.
Blaine didn't say anything in response, simply smiling as he watched Kurt step carefully into his underwear, as to not strain his sore body, and move to sit beside him. The pale boy looked as though he wanted to say something, but hesitated, instead reaching his hand out to ghost affectionately over the tattoo on the other's chest, tracing over the pattern of the letters.
Without removing his hand, Kurt brought his gaze back to meet his boyfriend's. "But really… You're helping me…get through this so wonderfully, Blaine," Kurt breathed out, his hand falling to grasp the other boy's. "You never…rush me, I… It was really amazing…"
The curly-haired boy turned his hand palm-up to grasp in return. "...That's amazing, babe. I'm…so glad I'm helping you get through this…" Kurt just warmly smiled at him, his head tipping to the side slightly, but Blaine chuckled lightly. "But…I was actually talking about physically… Your bruises look terrible," he brought up a hand to tentatively run over a particularly dark one near his boyfriend's ribcage.
"Oh. Yeah… I know," Kurt murmured thickly, his gaze dropping as his brows furrowed together.
Blaine closed his eyes at his own wording and squeezed his boyfriend's shoulder very lightly to get his attention back. "I mean, not like that, just… You know what I mean," The curly-haired boy searched the other's face, his gaze still not meeting Blaine's, and watched him nod subtly. "They look painful."
At this, Kurt brought his eyes up to meet his boyfriend's, a small, sad smile in place. "I know… They're okay, though. They've gotten a little better since yesterday…"
Blaine nodded in response, though he was doubtful, his eyes sweeping over the boy before him, letting a smile take over his lips. "Well, you still look incredible… And…that, everything – you were incredible, Kurt." Kurt smiled coyly at this, heat rising to his cheeks as he bashfully averted the other boy's gaze.
Blaine smiled fondly at this behavior and grabbed his boyfriend, careful of his injuries, and plopped him down onto the center of the bed, his face bordered by the fluffy pillows and surrounded by the blankets that had been disturbed previously. Blaine, still naked, hovered over the boy and smiled down at him, only causing Kurt to grin goofily back up at him, his face screwed up in silliness and half-laughter. Blaine laughed outright at this, causing the pale boy to as well.
"I love you," Blaine breathed out, his voice still uneven and slightly winded from the laughter.
"I love you, too," Kurt mumbled quietly, airily, in response with a smirk, his boyfriend's face inching closer to his as he leaned down, coming to meet him in a kiss.
"Mmmm, and I love hearing you say that."
"Oh, sweetheart! How are you—?"
"Mom—"
"Are you doing alright? Oh, sweetie, how was your night—?"
"Mom—"
"Oh, I can't stand that you boys are stuck all the way over there so close to Christmas! I just hope—!"
"Mom, please," Finn pleaded, his voice colored with slight amusement as he sat down on a seat in the common room, next to a few of Kurt's friends that had all ended up there. "I'm doing fine…"
There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "Oh, honey. I've been checking on the weather constantly, and it looks like it's been good all day so far. What are they saying over there? Is anyone going to try to leave soon?"
Finn shrugged, although his mother couldn't see him. "I don't know. The roads are still pretty icy, I think… But one guy here – he's Kurt's friend's dad – he's stuck here too, and he said they're probably gonna leave in a few hours when it gets warmer."
"…Well, alright… Call me if you think you're gonna head home, okay?"
"Yeah, okay."
"Finn, honey? How was your night? Where did you end up sleeping?"
"They had a spare room that I slept in."
"Were you by yourself?"
"Yeah… It was in the same building as Kurt's room... It used to be an RA's room, or something, so it was for one person. I think a few other people stuck here had to sleep in the rooms in the teacher's dorms. But they gave this one to me because I'm younger, I think…"
There was a brief moment of silence between them, as the conversation seemed to naturally find its ending point. "Well, sweetheart, keep me updated. Just…be safe, alright?"
"I know."
"I'll talk to you in a bit. Love you."
"Love you, too, mom. Bye."
Finn hung up the phone and looked next to him, seeing that Blaine guy approaching the group, Kurt not with him, which seemed to be unusual.
"Hey B," Nick smirked, crossing his legs where he sat and making brief eye contact with Trent before returning his gaze to the curly-haired boy. "What have you been up to?"
Blaine raised an eyebrow, his casual, 'whatever' mask clearly in place as he sunk down onto the floor, where Thad sat, playing idly with his phone. "Just hanging with Kurt. Just…went over to his room after I woke up to see how he was doing…" He snatched a cigarette from Thad's pack and, after finding himself lighter-less, dug a pack of matches from his shoe and lit it, leaning back on one elbow.
Thad, hearing this, smirked for a moment, before putting away his phone and sitting up straighter to face the boy. "That's weird," he commented, his voice thick with sarcasm and mock-innocence, "at, like, 7:20, I went down to get breakfast… And Kurt was already awake and said you were just about to come then…"
Blaine rolled his eyes and was close to making an inappropriate comment about the use of the word 'come', but he caught the gaze of Finn, who looked suddenly suspicious, and if he was doing this right, he had to try to restrain himself from the vulgar things he might usually joke about, in front of his boyfriend's family, at least.
Besides, something about Kurt made him want no one to know about their intimate life…
"What were you doing there for…" Thad spoke again, making Blaine realize he hadn't responded, and looked down to his phone, checking the time, "…two…and a half hours…? Is he okay?" The dark-haired boy asked in mock-concern, painfully obvious.
Blaine blew his cigarette smoke out, coughing slightly, and chanced a glance to Finn, who was still giving him that look… "Yeah, yeah… We were just…hanging out. You know…" He took another hit of the smoke, attempting to convey nonchalance.
Thad smiled, making eye contact with Nick and Trent, then followed Blaine's flickered gaze to Finn, suddenly understanding his behavior. He looked over Blaine, then grinned devilishly. "Oh!" Thad exclaimed suddenly, leaning forward to get closer to Blaine, who looked both skeptical and curious. "Are you okay? It looks like there's…some kind of…" He trailed off, pulling the collar of Blaine's shirt lower, to reveal a couple sizable hickeys, "…bruise, or something, on your neck," Thad finally laughed, as Blaine sat up and punched him in the arm, attempting to pull his shirt to cover the marks.
"Fuck off, Thad," he grumbled, and the two boys pushed each other around for a moment, Blaine finally shoving the dark-haired boy away, and turning away to huff, annoyed at his behavior.
A few moments of silence filled the room, and Blaine continued to smoke, pleased that Finn hadn't said anything. The tall teen himself was shrugging off the comments made earlier. After all, just because they were teasing him about being with Kurt, didn't mean he actually had been with him…right?
Nick yawned, blinking a few times, then, in a casual tone, "So…yeah, the hickeys. But also, I heard you and Kurt moaning like sluts in his room, like, an hour ago," he added matter-of-factly, as though it was information he forgot, but felt necessary to contribute.
Finn snapped his head to look at the accused, curly-haired boy, and Blaine, seeing this, leapt at Nick, actually toppling the leather chair the boy was sitting in over onto its back, Blaine on top of the dark-haired boy, punching him in a good-naturedly, though irritated, brotherly way, in the arms, Nick smirking and attempting to block the blows.
"Dude! What's wrong with you!" Blaine choked out at him, incredulous, as Nick laughed, along with the others, and flipped them over, pinning the curly-haired boy down on the carpeted floor, restraining him against his struggles. "Kurt's brother's gonna murder me!" He hissed, eyes flickering to Finn, who at this point, was standing up and looking like he was contemplating his actions.
"Oh, lighten up, B!" Nick chuckled, releasing Blaine, who only sat up, eyes narrowed at the boys in front of him. "We always joke around about this stuff," he reasoned, and it was true… Just perhaps not in front of involved one's family members. Blaine rolled his eyes and sighed, scooting over on the floor to put out the cigarette he had flung in his moment of revenge. Nick just smiled evilly again. "So, that being said… How was Kurt?"
Blaine lunged for him again, but pulled back, and Nick, thinking the other boy wasn't going to strike, let down his guard, and Blaine socked him hard in the upper arm, causing the dark-haired boy to groan playfully, clutching his limb tenderly.
"How's your infected dick? Shithead," Blaine huffed, annoyed, referencing the boy's possible STD.
Nick, instead of attempting a retaliation insult, or shrugging it off, actually considered the comment, reaching his hand down to literally grope himself, wincing slightly. "Painful," he nodded, looking thoughtful. "I should probably get this checked out…"
Everyone who heard this looked at the boy in shocked disbelief, seemingly disturbed, though before anyone could say anything, Wes and David stormed into the lounge, looking absolutely furious.
"Dude, just—"
"No, fuck it. I'm telling him," Wes decided, clearly in the middle of a conversation as they entered. He marched up to Blaine, the heat practically radiating off of him, regardless of the fact he had just been outside in the cold weather. He let a few heavy, angry breaths escape him before speaking. "Blaine, we just ran into someone."
"This is bullshit. I'm fucking starving," Wes mumbled bitterly, huffing angrily.
David sighed, also disappointed, but turned to his roommate. "Let's just… Let's just go to Arts. We have a shit ton of food in there. We can bring some snacks back to the dorm."
Wes sighed dramatically and nodded, beginning to button up his coat. He wasn't in the mood to have to go face the weather, but it was better than starving.
Because classes were not in session, meals were not mandatory, though the school typically provided small snacks and alternative choices for the students during break. Though, because of the family members stuck on campus, the food was being provided to them, instead, leaving students who had not eaten the meals with no other options of food.
Though no one had told the students this information.
After retrieving a handful of snacks and forms of nourishment and pocketing them, the two boys headed back to direct entrance of the dorm building, but froze in their tracks upon sighting a particular red-haired teen, watching them from across the field in front of the Art Building, near the doors of the English wing.
Although it wasn't in the direction they were heading, the two roommates stalked over to the boy, already feeling the anger bubbling in their veins.
"Chink," Renny sneered, eyeing Wes, who simply clenched his jaw at the derogatory name. "Coon," he jeered, actually spitting on the snow-covered ground, in the direction where David stood.
The boy flung himself at the tall, lankier one, pressing him hard against the wall behind him. "You got some fucking nerve talking to us that way. After what you did to Hummel," David seethed, having to make himself calm down slightly, releasing the boy after giving him a threatening shove further against the wall, as well as a menacing stare.
Renny scoffed, pocketing his cellphone he had out. "That little flamer loved everything we did to him," he commented coolly, pulling his coat tighter around himself and scanning the area before turning back to them. "And he deserved every fucking minute of it for being the little faggot he is—"
"You shut your dirty fucking mouth, Bright!" Wes screeched, approaching him and stepping in front of David. "I swear to fucking god, if you lay another finger on that kid..."
The redhead merely smirked at this, staring down at the boys shorter than him.
Though David was still caught on his words. He loved everything they did to him? What had they…?
"What the fuck do you mean he loved it? What did you do to him?" His voice was so low and filled with intensity, Renny's smile faltered for a moment, and even Wes took an instinctive step back.
The red-haired teen seemed somewhat surprised. "He didn't tell you? Huh, he seemed to like it so much… Especially at first when we were… Hah. I'm sure fags like him love that kind of shit, after all… He was practically screaming for it – wait. He was screaming for it," the boy laughed, taking his phone out to check it.
Wes growled beside David, taking a step closer to Renny, so he was mere inches from his face. "Listen, you fucker. You're gonna regret everything you did to him, I—"
"Wes," David warned, holding the Asian boy's fist from where he seemed to be about to bring it down to hit Renny. "Let's not get into this right now. Come on, man. Let's bounce."
Wes stared in amazement and confusion at his roommate, but trusted his judgment. From the look in David's eyes, he could tell there was a reason he was holding him back.
After another few seconds of exchanging intimidating glares, Wes and David took off, back into the direction of the dorm building. "Fuck, David. When Blaine hears about this, he—"
"I don't think we should tell him."
Wes stopped in his tracks, just about to enter the dorm building. "What? Why the fuck not?"
David sighed, his breath coming out in puffs in the cold air, and tongued his piercing. "Look. I just… From what he was saying, I think he did some shit that we don't know about…" When Wes still looked confused, seemingly trying to remember all that Renny had said, David offered, "More than just roughing him up and tying him down… I think… I mean, he said 'he loved it', and I just…"
Wes's eyes widened and he inhaled a sharp breath, shaking his head back and forth rapidly at what David was suggesting. "Fuck, you think—? Then Blaine would really want to know, we—"
"No, dammit! If something like that went down, Kurt needs to tell him! Not us," David was beginning to yell, partially from his roommate's behavior, but mostly because of the incident earlier, the anger still present.
But Wes was still shaking his head, beginning to shake in anger at the idea David was proposing, "No way, man. We're Blaine's bros. He'd be fucking pissed if we didn't tell him."
"Wes, just—" David let out an aggravated huff as Wes crashed through the door leading into the dorm lounge, not waiting to hear him speak, and decided to follow him and convince him otherwise before he found Blaine. "Dude, just—"
"No, fuck it. I'm telling him… Blaine, we just ran into someone."
Blaine was confused. Why didn't David want Wes to tell him whatever he was about to? Judging from the looks of their faces, it wasn't good news. "W-what? I – who?" The curly-haired boy came to his feet, eyeing the Asian boy with a mixed expression, somewhat worried, but also curious.
David caught up with Wes, giving him a stern look, which Wes returned easily. "Renny," Wes provided, earning an instant hard look from the boy in front of him.
"…What?" He let his eyes wander slightly, contemplating, and found the others all taking notice of the situation, seeing that something was happening. Finn looked confused, and it was clear to those observing that he was dying to ask who Renny was. "I – what – what did he say? What went down?" Blaine's original angry look had shifted to a more concerned, desperate one, like he was hungry for the information about the man who had attacked his boyfriend.
Wes opened his mouth to say something, but the words were stuck in his throat as the implications of David coursed through his brain. At a loss for words, he turned to David, who only gave him a look as though to say, 'see? We shouldn't have said anything, because now it's going to be awkward.'
"Look, Blaine," David tried, attempting to word what he was about to say very carefully, stepping forward and slightly pushing his friend out of the way, "we basically told him to fuck off, especially after everything with Kurt. And he…wouldn't drop it… He was…being a complete ass about the whole thing. We didn't fight him, because we figured it wouldn't be too good of an idea right then."
Blaine's eyes were downcast, angry, as he nodded, considering this. He looked as though he were about attempt to say something, though was conflicted about restraining himself. He sighed heavily, and reached down to grab another cigarette from Thad's open pack, initiating a small glare to be sent in his direction from said boy, and lit it, taking a few moments just sucking in the smoke.
"Did he say he was gonna back off?" Blaine snapped, breaking the silence, startling everyone slightly.
David looked to Wes, who frowned slightly. "No, he… He wasn't really taking us seriously…" Wes looked to his roommate, who shook his head subtly, but the Asian boy just turned back to Blaine. "Look, B. There's something else…" Blaine raised an eyebrow, clearly silently fuming, though looked at the boy expectantly. "We… I don't know what Kurt has told you about what happened yesterday…but we think it may have been worse than we first thought. He kind of…implied some kind of…" He couldn't say it. Not after everything. Not after Kurt's rape, and everything that happened to him.
"What, Wes? Dammit!" Blaine seethed impatiently.
"Something sexual, B," David finally spat out, trying to say it swiftly, so it was less painful to say, and less painful to hear, like ripping off a Band-Aid quickly to minimize the sting.
"No," Blaine argued immediately, his brows pulled together, not even letting a second pass after David's statement. "No, Renny's a total homophobe, he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't fucking ever do that!" His voice was rising. "Why the fuck would you even say that?" He began to get up in the dark-skinned boy's face, looking livid.
"B! B, listen! It's just he said shit like…'he loved it', and that…guys like 'him love that kind of stuff'," Wes tried to explain, though hearing it out loud made him realize there wasn't too much proof. "We just thought it could be that! We're not sure, we just wanted to…warn you…"
"Mmmm," Blaine hummed thoughtfully, clearly conflicted between losing his temper and snapping, and trying to keep his cool. "I just… I mean, I was trying to figure out what to do next time I saw him… I know I shouldn't—" He cut himself off with a grunt, hastily sucking on his cigarette and practically shooting out the smoke. "…I'm going to kill him," he just decided with a jerky nod, "Literally. That fucking bastard will be dead when I'm done with him. I mean, I know he has a fucking problem with us!" He threw his free hand up in the air angrily. "And I know we have this stupid – feud going on, but he needs to fucking know when to stop!" Blaine was shouting now, and a couple boys passing by, heading up to the stairs to the dorm, looked over curiously, but kept walking.
Jonathan chose this moment to waltz into the commons, rolling his eyes as he sighed, seemingly annoyed, and sensed the feeling in the room as he entered. He saw Finn first, his mouth hung agape as he was staring at the other boys in the room with shock and horror.
Nick, Thad, Trent, Wes, and David all had matching looks of concern-mixed-with-anger, staring at Blaine timidly.
Blaine looked furious. Absolutely, undoubtedly furious.
"What's happening, Blaine?" Jonathan asked him, not seeming to speak with the appropriate amount of concern for how upset his brother looked. He raised an eyebrow and frowned, looking at the cigarette in Blaine's hand. "You're still on these?" Jonathan's face scrunched up in repulsion, and snatched the smoke from his brother's hand, earning a dangerous look from the boy. "That's disgusting."
"What are you doing?" Blaine's choked out instantly, so low and harsh that everyone in the room tensed slightly. Even Jonathan raised an eyebrow at this, but just shook his head after a moment, sighing irritably when Blaine grabbed the stick back and frantically began taking puffs.
"I thought you quit smoking… You can't do this around our parents, I hope you know."
Blaine practically growled, sucking in the rest of his cigarette and basically threw the butt into the cup beside Thad. "I don't care, Jonathan! I don't fucking care! I've been smoking since I was fourteen! Mother and Father never found out then, and they won't now!"
Jonathan raised his chin slightly, just blinking a few times, looking as his brother clamped his eyes shut and continued looking upset. "Are you done with your little tantrum…?" He asked, shaking his head as though in disbelief. "That is not an acceptable way to behave, Blaine," he scolded the boy, getting himself a confused, slightly fearful look from his brother.
"I – I know, I'm sorry, I—" Blaine stuttered out, attempting some kind of apologetic, guilty look, eyes darting around, though his anger then took over his attempt to put on his proper-family-appropriate face. "I, fuck. No, dammit. Look, Jonathan, I can't do this right now. I have a fucking problem I have to deal with," he huffed, shaking his head beginning to get his coat on, fumbling in his rage.
"Blaine, please, this is—"
"Wait – wait. Someone needs to freaking explain to me what's going on!" Finn broke out of his silent haze, staring angrily at David, the one who had suggested a sexual assault.
The dark-skinned boy bristled at the sudden attention, but nodded, hastily trying to think of a way to explain everything. "Okay. Okay, well… Yesterday, in the morning, we found Kurt—"
"—I found Kurt—"
"Fucking okay, Trent. Anyway. Trent found Kurt. He was, um, tied up to the doors of an abandoned building on – uh, a different part of campus, kind of. It was when the blizzard was really bad," David tried, stumbling over his words and attempting to describe to the best of his abilities. Finn looked as though he was in shock. "And, well, they, like, jumped him or something, before they tied him up, because he was all bruised and stuff… But, well, you heard us when we came in… We think they – well, he – might have done something…else…"
Finn just shook his head, his eyes almost foggy with disbelief. "…And…who was the guy you said did this…?"
Nick sighed and shut his eyes at the pure desperateness and pain in Kurt's brother's voice.
"Renny… He's this kid who—"
"Renny?" Jonathan cut Trent off as he began to answer, looking shocked. "Renny Bright?"
Blaine swallowed thickly, not answering or indicating any kind of response, only training his eyes to the floor, absently running his hand over his tattoo through his shirt.
Wes looked between Blaine and Jonathan, his eyes narrowed in confusion, his expression incredulous. "You know Renny?"
"Kurt?" Jeff gave a few solid knocks to the door and darted his tongue out to run over his lip ring, then sighed when there was no response. "…Kurt?"
The pale boy suddenly opened the door, seemingly slightly out of breath as he smiled softly at the blonde. "Sorry, I was just getting out of the shower, I – here," he stepped aside to let the other boy in, "come in," he closed the door behind Jeff, clad in only a dark navy towel. "I'm just gonna… I'll be right back," he offered the blonde, grabbing a couple items of clothing from his bed and walking into the bathroom.
Jeff just nodded, and sat down on Thad's bed, seeing Kurt's was uncharacteristically unmade and messy, and he wondered – but didn't really wonder, because he really knew – why. His eyebrows furrowed together slightly at the whole idea that his mind came up with at the sight.
Sex.
Sexual things, in general.
Two boys together, in bed.
Being touched.
Being…
Gay.
"Sorry, I, um," Kurt entered the bedroom, looking slightly flushed in the cheeks, and made a vague gesture to the bathroom and sat on his bed, and Jeff raised a questioning eyebrow, his mouth curled up in a smirk, "I just wanted to – shower…"
At this, the blonde let his lips crack into a small grin, and he let out a light, huffy laugh. "I…heard you and Blaine were up to…something here," he commented, speaking slowly with an attempted suggestive tone. "Nick heard," he explained at Kurt's horrified expression.
The pale boy's eyes were wide and he trained his eyes on the wall across from him to avoid making eye contact with Jeff. "Oh," he nodded slightly, his cheeks tinged with pink. They heard me and Blaine…moaning…? Jeff giggled at his expression, slightly amused at how easily his friend was embarrassed. Kurt stood up to look for the rest of his clothing, as he was dressed in only boxers and an undershirt. As he made to approach his dresser, he quickly shifted his gaze up to meet the blonde's. "Uh – we, um. We weren't, you know… We were just…" He trailed off, shrugging as he wasn't exactly sure what else to say, or if he wanted to describe what they had been doing.
Oh, you know, Jeff. We were just rubbing our dicks together beautifully. Just some frottage, it was great!
Jeff nodded, then looked down, licking his lips once before speaking. "Look, I wanted to talk to you about something, Kurt. I… I know you—" he sighed, searching for words, "—get sick a lot."
Kurt abandoned his search for clothes, sighing, and sat down across from Jeff again, on his own bed, looking at him curiously, though slightly timid. "I… W-what do you mean?"
The blonde boy opened his mouth to respond, but hesitated. "…Just… I hear you throwing up a lot. Like, ever since you got here…" Kurt didn't say anything, but just looked at the other boy. "I guess… I just wanted to know…why," he watched Kurt's face, seeing his reaction to the question.
The pale boy sighed, and nodded slightly, his hand coming up to gently run through his wet hair as he thought. "Well, you… You know about what happened…to me. What I was freaking out about when I was on acid." It wasn't a question, but Jeff nodded slightly, though felt he needed to verify… Was Kurt talking about when he killed someone? Or when he was…?
"The, um…" The blonde stopped, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"The rape," Kurt provided him gently with a nod, then cast his eyes downward. "I was raped…and…" He trailed off, his face looking contemplative before he spoke again, though this time with a different tone. "When you get…violated like that, it's – well, it's horrible, obviously, and a lot of other things, but," He sighed, narrowing his eyes, tilting his head to the side, "something people don't really realize…is that it's… Well, it's nauseating," He kind of laughed, humorlessly, eyes still not meeting the other boy's.
Jeff swallowed, and nodded, watching Kurt's face as he was clearly revisiting his attack. He suddenly felt responsible for making the boy have to think about it.
"…Literally," Kurt said suddenly, startling Jeff slightly out of his thoughts. "It's… It makes you horribly nauseous," he shrugged, "and…it's something that takes…forever to not think constantly about… So, it comes back to you," he said, almost matter-of-factly, his gaze finally shifting to look at Jeff. "You think about it, you have flashbacks about it… You dream about it…" He trailed off, shaking his head a little sadly. "And the sickness comes back… And I don't know if it's – I mean, I have a weak stomach, so…"
Kurt just sort of blinked, just sort of ending it there, shrugging lightly. Jeff nodded, and opened his mouth, trying to say something, feeling he should at least thank the boy for sharing, or react in some way.
The pale boy seemed to notice, looking up at the blonde after a few moments of silence. "Is that—? I mean, if that answers what you wanted to know…" He kind of flushed a little bit, slightly embarrassed, realizing he had sort of gone off on a rant about his experience. "Why I throw up a lot," he sort of rolled his eyes at the complicated answer to the seemingly simple question.
Jeff gave him a kind of uncertain, conflicted smile in return, and nodded, his tongue coming out to play with his lip ring. Kurt noticed this, and took in the distressed expression on his friend's face.
"It…gets better… You know?" Kurt offered him, trying to lighten up the conversation. He saw Jeff give him a faintly confused, but curious look at the statement. "There was a while there – back when it first happened – and I was…sent to a therapist, like, three times a week… And I didn't even really talk to anyone when I didn't have to," he recalled, nodding very slowly. "…I thought I'd been…damaged. Like…broken. Not…hurt. Or fixable… I thought I'd been sent to this – this unreal, horrible place…" His brows furrowed together, feeling the pain of his memory. "And I thought… That was just how it was gonna be. Nothing I could do," he shrugged, then sighed deeply.
This is the first time he's telling anyone this, Jeff realized suddenly, I can tell…
"Then," Kurt breathed, obviously struggling, "hmmm… I…attacked someone. When I had a psychotic break. And I went to jail, and… I just sort of lived, you know?" But Jeff narrowed his eyes slightly in confusion, not quite understanding, and Kurt shook his head, explaining. "Not in the good sense, when people say it, but just literally. I ate. And I slept and I didn't think too much…or dream. But…" He laughed, realizing his earlier promise of it 'getting better' wasn't exactly coming through, and judging by the morbid look on Jeff's face he wasn't sounding too positive. "But it gets better… It got better, I met Blaine and… As stupid as some of that stuff that went on between us at first was, I was…so, so, much better than I was before… And now—? We're together and – I can't even explain it."
Jeff smiled, somewhat shyly, at his friend, not even realizing how much of huge impact someone could have in someone else's life.
Maybe he could have that…
"When you…get hurt like I did… In that sort of way… It helps…having someone there, walking you through everything, you know, especially intimate things," Kurt admitted, his cheeks and neck flushing. "He's so…patient, I…" He breathed out a small laugh, "Blaine just helps me forget… No, not forget. Heal. He helps me heal."
Blaine huffed, finally snapping at his brother, and turned to the older man. "Just fucking stay out of this, Jonathan! You don't know the shit that's gone down between us since we've been here!"
Blaine's brother still looked stunned. "Renny was sent here? He was sent to the same school as you…? Why the fuck didn't you ever tell me that?" All the boys flinched slightly at the man's anger slipping through his polite mask.
"Why? Would you have come to visit him?" Blaine stormed up to his brother, not striking, but getting so close to him that the other boy could most likely feel his heated, angry breath on his face.
Hazel eyes met darker, colder ones.
The brothers shared a menacing glare, staring intensely into each other's eyes, heat emanating within the short space between them. There seemed to be an entire conversation going on through eye-contact. Just by seeing the two, it was clear that they had shared a long, complicated, messy, resentful history.
"Okay, wait," Thad said finally, breaking the tension-filled silence and turning to face Blaine. "You knew Renny before you came here?"
But Blaine didn't respond, only continued to glare into his brother's eyes, the strain between them building. He saw Jonathan react to Thad's statement, how he was surprised that they weren't aware of his previous association with the red-haired boy.
Without taking his eyes away from his brother, Jonathan hissed out a scoff. "It's that little fag friend of yours, Kurt, isn't it? Afraid to tell him the shit you used to be mixed up in?"
Finn jumped at the man, pushing him hard, and bringing a fist down to his shoulder to press him against a wall of the room. Blaine growled, and shoved his brother harder into the wall, rattling the window frames.
"You don't talk about my brother that way!" Finn shouted, from where he was beside Blaine, close to Jonathan's suddenly-panicked face.
"You call Kurt that one more time and I swear to god you will regret it," Blaine breathed, seething. He eyed the man in front of him for a few moments, his eyes narrowing. "And you know fucking damn well that I was never the one doing that shit back home!" Blaine backed off, visibly controlling his anger. He blinked a few times and, without taking his eyes away from his brother, "You keep him here, Finn. He doesn't need to be involved in this… This is between us and Renny."
And with that, the group of boys in the room, minus Finn and Jonathan, stalked off, through the main doors that exited to the outside, leaving behind two stunned, shocked young men.
Jeff sighed, sitting in the silence that had engulfed the room since the end of their conversation. Kurt had simply stood up from his position on his bed and begun finishing getting dressed after he had finished speaking.
The pale boy rummaged through his drawers, but frowned. If he was allowed to wear his own clothes, he was going to take full advantage of that. But most of his best apparel was packed in the bags he had attempted to take home the day before…
Either way, Kurt needed to do something, so he continued to pretend to look for clothes. It was painfully obvious that Jeff wanted to talk to him about something. After all, why had the blonde wandered into his room to ask him why he vomited?
Maybe this has to do with what's been going on with him lately… Kurt thought, his eyes still fixed on his casual clothes that he put in his drawers, the ones that didn't need to be hung. He has been throwing up a lot… Maybe he thought I was getting sick for the same reason he was and wanted to ask me about it…? But Jeff… His behavior…
Is Jeff bulimic?
"Kurt," Jeff breathed finally, his voice clearly colored with struggle as he tried to breach the topic, "I, um… I actually…"
The pale boy turned around, wearing what he hoped was a warm and understanding smile, waiting for the boy to speak, to share.
But before Jeff could go any further, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He blinked a few times, caught somewhat off-guard by the interaction, and fished out the device to look at the screen.
might need ur backup. shit going down w renny. where r u? – N
Jeff's eyes widened at the content, and he blinked, looking back up to Kurt, realizing he had trailed off, smiling slightly, apologetic. "Uh… Sorry. Hold on a sec," he mumbled, quickly typing a reply.
Im hanging with Kurt. Y, whats going on? – J
Before the blonde boy could even place his phone down for more than a few seconds, he got a response.
DONT tell him wats going on, k? b wants to fight renny. k doesnt need to be there for this – N
Jeff slowly shifted his gaze back to Kurt, who was standing with a questioning raised eyebrow, looking at his curiously. "What's up? Who are you talking to?"
The blonde boy's eyebrows knitted together for a moment in thought, but he quickly recovered with a small smile. "Oh, just…Nick. You know," he said casually, shrugging a little, to which Kurt's eyebrow raised even higher. "I'm gonna go…see him. I – he wants to talk to me about something, um, in person," Jeff nodded, a little frantically, and came to his feet, moving towards the door.
"Jeff, wait," Kurt said after a moment of recovering from the confusing leave, turning towards the boy, "Are you sure you don't…need to talk about…anything else?" Kurt winced at his awful attempt at hiding that he knew something.
Jeff looked shocked for a split-second, but then gave Kurt an obviously-painful and fake smile, his eyes darting to the door nervously. "No, I'm just—! I need to go see Nick right now! I'll catch you later, Kurt!"
Kurt watched as Jeff avoided their interaction and began heading out the door mid-sentence, eventually calling out as he got so far away. Perhaps he'd find out what was going on with the boy another time…
"You gonna listen to me now?" Blaine panted, slightly winded from physical exertion, as he leaned over the taller boy, who was slouched against the wall, eyeing him with disgust. Renny made an attempt to pull an arm free, but both were being held back by Nick and David. Instead, he shrugged one shoulder towards his face to angrily rid some of the blood from the skin surrounding his mouth and chin.
"Fuck you," he hissed, his eyes squinting in disdain for the boy in front of him.
Blaine sighed tiredly, irritated. He turned to face the expanse of snow-covered land, away from where the group was pushed up again the wall of Arts. He ran a hand over his face, as though contemplating his actions, then, without warning, snapped back around and struck the boy hard in the jaw, causing him to let out a grunt of pain.
"Fine, fine! Fuck," he spit onto the ground in front of him, blood bright red in contrast to the snowy ground. "What the hell do you want?"
Blaine stared at the red-haired teen for a moment, eyes hard, and then rushed up to him, grabbing his shoulders in his hands, his grip deadly. "You fucking damn well know what I want! You fucking disgusting little—"
"B," Jeff interrupted, stepping forward to place a careful hand on the curly-haired boy's, attempting to pry him off of the injured redhead.
Blaine nodded at Jeff silently, and stepped back, breathing hard. "What did you do to him?" He asked curtly.
Renny huffed and rolled his eyes. "Nothing that fag didn't—" This time it was Trent who cut him off, grabbing a fistful of the boy's red hair, from his position beside David, using it as leverage to smash the boy's head into the wall. "What the fuck?" But all seven of the boys just glared at him, and he knew what he had said. "Whatever. We saw him running, and grabbed him, started kickin' the shit outta him… Tied him up, I don't know what you want me to say," he sighed airily.
"You said he loved it," Wes reminded him bitterly, leaving his position beside Blaine, Thad and Jeff and approaching the boy, getting in his face, "that he was screaming for it. What's 'it'?"
At this, Renny's lips twitched up, just the slightest amount, and he tried to pull them down to his previous neutral expression. "Just the beatings, he knew he deserved it—"
"Don't fucking lie to me, Bright," Blaine growled, so low and quiet that the other boys nearly didn't hear it. "I know – I fucking know – what you're capable of…" He narrowed his hazel eyes at the redhead and watched the boy's lips play up in a smirk.
"…Said 'don't touch me,' and begged for us to not take his clothes off," Renny recalled, blinking, a smile on his faraway face, as though it were a fond memory, "and we said that…if that's what he doesn't want, then we should do it," he laughed, and Blaine didn't even jump at him, his face too twisted up in pain to react properly. The redhead's smile widened at the sight, as though he enjoyed retelling the story to hurt the others. "So we stripped him down…and smacked him around a little like that. He was freakin' out," the boy smirked, but was confused when Blaine's face softened with relief.
"…That… That's it?" The curly-haired boy breathed carefully, as though dying in anticipation and hope of the answer. The other Warblers all waited with the same expectance, looking at the redhead as he responded.
"Yeah…?" The red-haired boy seemed confused, wondering what they were expecting him to say. "…Well we were gonna leave him like that, lyin' on the ground, but he got up and started puttin' his stuff back on and tried to run, so that's when we tied him," he added, still puzzled at the thankful looks the boys were giving each other. "What? What'd you think? I still don't get why you fags are doin' this to me. I told you before, all we did was rough him up," he scoffed angrily, yanking again on his arms, but to no avail.
Blaine, still overcome with relief, just nodded blankly, realizing that Renny and his goons' stupidity of not understanding Kurt's pleas were actually what saved the pale boy from something far worse. From something he'd already had to experience before.
From sexual assault.
"Too bad, though," Renny sighed distantly, looking off into the field in front of them, "when we tied him up, we were hoping he'd end up freezin' there," he smiled, like it was a pleasant idea, and Blaine's blood began to boil again, "you know, no one would have given a shit that a little faggot like him died—"
Blaine leapt at him.
But this time, no one immediately pulled him back.
Finn and Jonathan sat in silence for a decent while, the taller teen breathing angrily, and the older man smirking condescendingly at the boy's apparent frustration. Neither of them made eye contact, but simply sat in quiet, until Finn huffed loudly and turned to face him from his own chair.
"Okay, dude, seriously! What the hell?" Finn shook with anger, having a difficult time sitting in the same room with a man who so openly insulted his brother, in front of him… And in front of his boyfriend – were him and Blaine boyfriends? – who was also gay! "How could you say that, man?" Jonathan rolled his eyes, hardly acknowledging him. "Especially considering…" Finn trailed off, not understanding how someone could use that word – well, granted, he had used that word, but that was before he and Kurt were close – with a gay brother.
This got Jonathan's attention. He looked up to Finn, and raised an eyebrow, mock-elegantly. "Considering what, exactly…?"
Finn's face twisted slightly in thought and confusion. How does one go about just saying these kinds of things? "Well, I mean… With Blaine, and everything…"
"Blaine?" The older boy scoffed, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Why would he be one to stop me from—? No, see, Blaine… Blaine… You need to know some things about Blaine… My little brother might not have been one to go bashing with us frequently, but the one that got Renny Bright sent here?" He laughed, shaking his head morbidly at the memory, "Almost killed the little queer… He was there – Blaine was there for that one…"
"B. B, that's enough… Blaine," Thad yanked on the back of Blaine's jacket, pulling him away from the injured boy on the ground. Blaine stumbled back and gulped in breaths, staring down at the red-haired teen, knowing he shouldn't let himself go any further with the fight, but acknowledging that sometimes, violence was the only way to get across a message to a guy like Renny. But he was done…
"Okay, I…" Blaine panted, catching his breath, looking to the other Warblers for a moment, who had long abandoned holding down the redhead, letting the two boys have their fair fight. He turned back to Renny. "I want…you and your friends to understand something, okay…? You mess with Kurt again, you'll be worse off than this, let me tell you… You sick little fuck..." He reached down to the boy who was lying against the edge of the wall, looking down, and yanked him by the collar of his coat, pulling him to a standing position. "Did you hear me?"
Renny wobbled a bit on his feet and spit blood to his side, leaning against the wall behind him for support, but nodded, "I heard you. Fuck… He your boyfriend or something, fag?"
Blaine growled and threw a hard fist, smashing it against Renny's cheekbone, knocking him against the wall further, as his head snapped to the side.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" David pulled Blaine back again, and gave him a look. The curly-haired boy only nodded in response, and straightened up, watching Renny touch his injury. "Are you gonna keep being a little idiot?"
"…No," the redhead sneered in return, rolling his eyes, but actually somewhat afraid to get hurt again.
"Good. Listen, I want you guys to get into your thick fucking skulls that this shit going on between us? It needs to fucking stop," Blaine watched as the redhead didn't smirk, or scoff, or laugh at this, but simply narrowed his eyes, continuing to listen. "We beat the shit out of each other, we've broken each other's stuff, but you went too fucking far…" Blaine had to remember to control himself, trying to even out his breathing. "Kurt could have died, Renny. Died… Now, we've backed off from you guys, but you're the ones who keep coming back, fucking with us… And I want to make something very…clear… You can't. Touch. Hummel. You got that?"
Renny considered this, then blinked a few times, and sighed, sounding defeated. "Fine."
"Ugh," Blaine grunted, looking displeased as he approached the doors of the common room, "I got his blood all over my jacket," his face scrunched up a little bit, pulling the garment away from himself so he could see the specks of red.
"Dude, I think that's your blood," Wes commented, kind of amused, but watching his friend's face for his reaction.
Blaine eyed the spots, then brought a hand up to his mouth to find some dried blood, remembering when Renny had punched him in the mouth and he had tasted his gums bleeding. "Oh… Yeah, maybe," he muttered back, only slightly embarrassed, but figuring some of the blood must belong to the other boy, because he hadn't bled that much…
The seven boys entered the room, all of them dropping to silence at the sight of Finn and Jonathan sitting in two of the leather chairs near the back of the area, and near them stood a particular fair-skinned boy.
Kurt. Who looked especially distressed at the moment.
"Hey…Kurt," Blaine spoke meekly, seeing the expression on his boyfriend's face. He had to hold himself back from going up to the boy and putting his arms around him, or physically comforting him in some way, due to his brother's presence.
But it turns out that he didn't need to be worried. As soon as Blaine approached the pale boy, he flinched away slightly, looking at the curly-haired boy with an odd expression.
Hesitance. Worry. Concern. Fear…?
"Kurt, what's wrong?" Blaine's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he took in the other boy's behavior, but Kurt continued to back away from him, this time a slight tint of irritation present in his face.
"Blaine, please… He – your brother – he told me that you…" Kurt trailed off, eyeing Blaine's faint bruise on his face and the dried blood on his chin and clothes. "Blaine, what happened? Oh god, are you okay?" He came up to him and went to touch his face, but pulled away, remembering Jonathan.
Blaine realized after a moment that he was referring to his physical state and nodded quickly, reassuringly. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I – um… I just… I beat the shit out of Renny for all that crap that went down yesterday…" Kurt tilted his head slightly to the side, the concern, shock, and appreciation showing on his face.
"Y-you did?"
Blaine blinked, confused. Of course he did… Why wouldn't he defend his boyfriend…? "I – of course… I… Kurt…" He trailed off, looking behind his boyfriend where Finn and Jonathan sat, along with the others who had joined them in their silence. His brother was smirking subtly, and Finn was sending a death glare Blaine's way, and the rest of the guys were sitting, eyeing those two uncomfortably or shifting and trying not to. "Kurt… What's going on?" He said quietly, so that hopefully none of the others would overhear, gesturing slightly to those behind him.
Kurt brought his lips together in a tight line and blinked. "I think we need to talk," Kurt breathed, "not like—! Just...about some things," he added, after seeing a panicked expression take over his boyfriend's features. Blaine sighed, and nodded, licking his lips once before speaking.
"Yeah… Good, I wanted to…talk to you about some…things, as well…"
Blaine glanced around the room, full of drunken teenagers that he vaguely knew, and away from the girl sitting on top of him—
"Wait," Trent interrupted Blaine's story, giving him a serious look, "you were with a girl?"
Blaine sighed, running a hand down his face and looking at the occupants of the room, lingering on Kurt for a moment longer as the pale boy gave him a look that was somewhere between amused and sympathetic. Blaine readjusted himself on his bed and reluctantly nodded his head slightly, looking embarrassed.
"Yes, okay? Yes, I was pitifully repressing my sexuality—"
"Go on," Wes and Nick said at the same time, exchanging a look before turning expectant eyes towards their curly-haired friend.
"Oh, god, please do go on, Blaine," David added, earning a glare.
After a pause, Blaine sighed, sounding defeated, but a painful smile rose to his lips. "Oh, fuck, fine. It was fucking awful… Seriously, you guys are gonna cringe hearing this."
"I'm so wet," the girl – what was her name? – whispered, slurred, into his ear. Blaine sighed, and nodded slowly, unsure, but just continued to run his hands down her back, stopping before he got too low. Instead of responding, he reattached his mouth to hers, moving his lips slowly and hearing her moan into his mouth.
That was the goal – to get them aroused. It sort of turned him off to think about, girls being wet, but he figured that was because he didn't get wet when he was aroused, it was a girl thing. He just didn't understand it… Blaine was sure it would feel amazing to fuck a girl. To get a blowjob or anything like that. He didn't have to think about the specifics as long as he was able to hook up with someone.
"Get a fucking room," someone called out, and Blaine detached himself for a moment to see some guy he was pretty sure he didn't know, sit down on the couch beside him and whatever her name was, most likely the one who had made the comment.
The girl straddling his waist laughed loudly, grinning, as though it was cute to be making out with a stranger at a party, or like it was a compliment that someone suggested that. Blaine felt her hot breath on his skin and it reeked of beer. "Do you wanna…?"
Blaine sucked in a sharp breath, his hands instinctively moving to release her, but nodded jerkily, thinking it would be fine. He was nervous, sure, but it would be fine. He should lose his damn virginity already, after all… Right?
The girl – Brandi! Blaine remembered, 'with an I' she had told him – dragged him upstairs and found an empty room, pushing him inside and onto the bed. "What do you want, B? I'll do everything to you," she slurred, taking a position on top of him, straddling his hips as he lied flat on his back.
"Uh, yeah. W-whatever," Blaine nodded, hearing his voice shaking and sounding breathy.
Brandi yanked her shirt over her head, tossing it to the side of the bed, and unclasped her bra, also throwing it somewhere. Blaine breathed hard, taking in her full breasts, just staring at them... He'd made out with girls countless times…but… This was the first time he'd seen a girl topless and he felt like it wasn't as big a deal as other guys made it seem, but it was good. It was nice. He didn't know exactly what he was supposed to do, though.
He darted his eyes back to her face to see her giving him a slightly expectant look, as though wanting him to take some sort of action… Was he supposed to…keep looking at them? Not look at them?
Touch them…? Yes, surely that was the right thing for him to do in this situation. He reached his hands out tentatively and placed them over her breasts, and after a moment, sort of began massaging them.
He heard her let out a soft hum, almost some kind of moan, and then she bent down over him to attach her mouth with his, and he kept rubbing her… He opened his eyes during their kiss and looked uncomfortably over to the side, where a nightstand was, not at her. Was he doing this right? He felt so god damn nervous and awkward… After a minute, he realized Brandi was beginning to pull away from him.
"Do you – do you have a condom?" She breathed sexily, running her hands under Blaine's shirt, making him tense slightly.
"I – no. I don't… Sorry…" He swallowed, realizing this was most likely a problem...
"Oh, that's okay, B," she purred, scooting down onto his legs to be able to access his jeans, and began unbuttoning them. "I'll just…take care of you, tonight."
She unzipped his pants and reached into them, through the open fly of his boxers and grabbed his penis, pulling it out. Her smirk faltered for a moment at the sight of it, but she turned back up to look at Blaine. "Had a few too many, tonight? Don't worry, I'll help you out there."
Blaine frowned, confused, before looking down and realizing he was completely soft, not aroused at all. Wow, he must really be nervous. "O-oh, yeah, sorry, I'm just… I'm really drunk."
He was completely sober.
"Shut the fuck up!" Blaine growled, trying to speak over the laughter of David, Nick, Wes, Thad and Trent. "I'm gay, it was uncomfortable and awkward…" After they still didn't stop, he added in a mumbled voice, "you guys wanted to hear it. I told you it was fucking terrible…"
"N-no," Thad breathed through his laughter, attempting to calm it, "please keep going."
Before he knew what was happening, Brandi's mouth was suddenly around his penis, and he shuddered forward, clamping his eyes shut.
That felt good.
He heard her moaning in her high, fake way she had been all night and realized it was an incredible turn-off for him. Couldn't she just…not make any noise? It was just that her voice really was irritating…
Regardless, Blaine felt himself grow hard in her mouth as she began sucking and licking his cock, and pretty soon, instead of going down his entire length, she was only able to bob her head along the top. Blaine reached out blindly, his eyes still closed, and came in contact with her thin shoulders, and for a moment, he envisioned himself grasping a pair of broader, more defined shoulders and—
Wait, what the fuck?
He pushed the thought away.
"Hey, Blaine!" A voice startled the two teens violently, both of them jumping and snapping their heads towards the door that had opened. "Come on, man, let's go."
"Renny! What the fuck? Get out!" Brandi screeched, pulling the blanket on the bed up to hide her chest, looking scandalized.
The redhead raised an eyebrow questioningly at her, then gave Blaine an almost-pitying look as he hastily tucked himself back into his pants and closed his zipper, his cheeks flooding with color. "Dude, even a pathetic loser like you shouldn't get with this slut," he said the word like it tasted badly, directing his gaze back at Brandi, "you know, you gave me the clap you little whore," he sneered, narrowing his eyes slightly.
Brandi's eyes widened in horror and she grabbed her shirt from the floor, abandoning her bra, and fled into the attached bathroom, with a last cry of "Fuck you!"
Blaine's eyebrows shot up, and he eyed the room around him absently in thought.
The clap? Isn't that gonorrhea…?
But then he remembered the boy standing in the doorway and sat up, coming to the edge of the bed and glaring at the redhead leaning against the doorway casually. "Renny, what the hell? What the fuck do you want?"
At this, Renny pushed himself from the doorframe and jerked his head in the direction of the stairs. "Come on, Jonny called. 'S gonna come get both of us," he said, beginning to walk out the door before Blaine even responded.
The curly-haired boy followed him through the door and caught up with him as Renny began making his way down the stairs. "I don't need a ride from him. I can walk home later…" He informed the other boy, eyebrow raised in question. Jonny never gives me rides… Why is wanting to now?
"He's not giving you a ride home. We're taking you somewhere," Renny replied nonchalantly as he led Blaine to the coat closet and began putting his on, throwing the other boy's to him.
"…Why? Why would my brother – or you, for that matter – want anything to do with me? You only ever talk to me because of Jonny…" Blaine trailed off, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, but pulled his jacket on regardless.
The redhead rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "Stop…whining. We need backup. Don't be a little bitch about this."
"W-where are we going?" Blaine asked tentatively, eyeing the passing scenery through the car window, feeling anxious.
"Shut up, moron," Jonathan snapped, sounding only slightly intoxicated. He turned around from the passenger seat to look at his younger brother in the back, his eyes narrowed, annoyed-looking. "The only reason you're here is because Nathan's sick, and we want to make sure we get this guy…"
The curly-haired boy's eyebrows shot up at this, and his eyes darted to the passengers beside him, Renny and another boy he didn't know. He remembered the driver had a name like Tuck, or Todd. Something short that began with the letter 'T'… "Are we…? We're not going…bashing are we…?" When he saw Renny and the other boy in the backseat exchange mischievous smirks, he inhaled a sharp breath, shaking his head slightly. "Oh! No. No, you guys, I'm really not—! I don't think I should—"
"Shit, Jonny. You never told us your brother was such a little pussy," the driver scoffed, interrupting him, causing the occupants of the car, minus Blaine and Jonathan, to snicker slightly.
Jonathan huffed, twisting around to look at the curly-haired boy. "B, fuck, just suck it up. You never come with us, just stop acting like a fucking girl and help us out. It could do you some damn good."
It could do you some damn good.
Blaine clamped his mouth shut, his eyebrows coming together. He knew what that meant. He knew what his brother thought about him.
Blaine smoked cigarettes and weed. He partied, he got drunk a lot, not as much as Jonny and Renny did, but he got drunk. He made out with random girls at parties and stole things from stores…
But that wasn't enough for his brother. Jonny did all those things, but much more frequently. And more intensely.
He also bashed people.
Jonathan Anderson and his closest group of friends, which included Lawrence Bright, got the reputation to do what they referred to as bashing. They would go out during the night and hunt down specific kids when they were alone and beat the living shit out of them.
These people were usually those on the lower end of the 'danger scale,' – or so they called it – meaning, basically, that they were weaker, more vulnerable students who had offended or pissed them off in some way, but were no threat. Blaine recalled overhearing his brother complaining, seething, about a guy in school that slashed his tires because of an ongoing feud between them, but he was unable to pursue a 'bash' on the kid, because he was too dangerous.
Compared to Jonathan – badass, partying, bashing – Blaine was a disappointment.
That being said, Blaine was mildly well-behaved around his parents. His father was a commissioner in the Ohio Union County government and his family was extremely wealthy. They expected nothing short of proper, sophisticated sons, and when it came purely to appearances, they might as well have been. But in reality, Blaine's parents were sorely disappointed in their sons' behavior, and complained about their every action.
Compared to the children of other candidates – appropriate, polite, well-mannered – Blaine was a disappointment.
He wasn't bad enough for his brother, and he wasn't good enough for his parents.
"Okay, Chaz said he saw him walking down on the street by…Gina's place," the driver remembered, pulling into an empty lot near a residential area and making a grunt of strain as he twisted around to reach into the space behind his seat, Blaine having to scoot his feet to the side, to grab a six-pack of beer that was there.
He ripped one away from the plastic rings and chucked it in Blaine's direction, though the boy, not expecting it, didn't catch it, and it dropped onto his crotch, causing him to wince and let out a small huff of pain. The other boy passed the beers around, and Blaine raised an eyebrow, realizing even the driver was having one.
Blaine wasn't a huge fan of beer, he usually drank to get drunk… He was used to downing shots of hard liquor, feeling the burn more than tasting the alcohol itself. But to play along, he yanked on the tab of the can and took a sip, holding down his gag.
"He should be here any minute… Oh! There he is!" The boy beside Blaine pointed messily through the front windshield after a good twenty minutes of waiting, and the curly-haired boy strained to see who he was referring to. His heart sank when he saw the short, blonde boy walking quickly on the sidewalk lining the dimly lit parking lot, his phone in front of him as he texted. Lance Baker… The kid who was known at their school for being… Gay. "Little fag checked me out in the locker room today… We'll teach him not to be so queer!" He heard a rustling of items being grabbed and blinked in shock for a moment.
Before Blaine could even comprehend the situation, or react, the occupants of the car flooded out the doors, and from his position inside the vehicle, he saw them all run up to the boy and grab him, against his struggles, and drag him to the far end of the parking lot, where the streetlight was the darkest.
Finally finding his legs, he sprung out of the vehicle and dashed towards the group, hardly able to feel his body as he did so. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, the sound ringing through his ears and he skidded to a halt in front of the boys.
He was already on the ground.
And all four of the boys were bringing down weapons of different kinds to smash into Lance's body, the muffled sound of hitting and strangled whimpers filling the curly-haired boy's mind.
"Blaine!" Said boy jumped almost a foot in the air as Jonathan viciously grumbled his name, turning away from their victim for just long enough to lay his eyes on his brother, looking confused. "What the fuck are you doing, B? Get in on this!"
But Blaine just shook his head, staring in shock. "N-no! No way, I can't do that—!"
"What the fuck do you mean? You've come bashing with us before!" His brother countered, sounding a mix between annoyed and furious.
"But – but that was when that guy keyed your car! Lance – he didn't do anything!"
Renny let out an eerily dark chuckled, shooting a quick look to Blaine. "He was being gay. And that's fucking enough," he hissed the last part, sounding almost disgusted, and Blaine just stood in horror, watching the poor sophomore get his body abused, feeling like he should be doing something – anything – but finding his body unable to act for a good few minutes, feeling himself getting angrier at the situation, more desperate to get them to just stop, but was brought out of his thoughts when the injured boy finally let out a pleading cry.
"Please, stop! Oh god – stop!" The young boy choked out, his blood covering too much of the ground.
Blaine exhaled shakily, his breaths becoming shorter and faster, as he numbly found himself backing away from the others. "Y-you guys, maybe—"
"Don't be a fucking pussy, B. This fag deserves this," the red-haired teen hissed, breathless, from where he was crouched over the slight, pale teen, whose blonde hair was mostly matted down with blood.
Blaine nodded, trembling and swallowing thickly, and his gaze darted back to the end of the parking lot, where their car was parked. Maybe if he snuck away without anyone noticing… But…he didn't know how to drive yet…
"Ah – please!" The blonde boy coughed out again, this time his sobbing evident in his voice.
The two other boys stood straight at this, seemingly finished with what they had done, throwing their respective weapons off to the side, but the red-haired teen brought down his metal bat again onto the injured one's back, his face meeting again with the asphalt.
"Renny—" one of the other boys warned harshly, catching the bloodied weapon in midair as it was about to be used again, "—just – just leave him. He's gonna fucking bleed to death," he hissed, as though he was concerned someone might overhear him, though the situation was obvious if there were any onlookers.
Renny scoffed lightly, holding the older boy's gaze for a few moments before surrendering, chucking the bat onto the bleeding blonde, initiating a muffled whimper, and stepping back slightly, tilting his head appreciatively at his work. "Hope you learned something, faggot," he laughed darkly, leaning forward to spit onto the boy on the ground before waltzing off in the direction of their vehicle.
Blaine remained frozen in his spot, watching the injured body shudder with sobs, the blood from his head and back leaking out onto the ground in two, smooth lines, pooling slightly, reflecting the light of the dim streetlamp in the parking lot. The curly-haired boy let out a sudden breath, conflicted, making to move towards the blonde to help – to do something – but hesitating.
"Come on, B. That fag learned his lesson. Let's go," he heard his brother calling from further down the parking lot.
"Yeah – he needs to understand that if he wants to keep being queer, we'll keep teaching him how not to be," Renny added, his voice eerily calm and mock-pleasant.
From in front of him, Blaine heard the boy on the ground cough, and mumble out, loud enough for everyone to hear, "You can fucking kill me and I won't change."
Blaine let out a sympathetic breath, still unsure, and three of the other boys laughed mockingly, but one stayed completely silent.
"What the fuck did you just say, faggot?" Renny turned slowly around, and came up beside Blaine, facing the victim, his face stony and dark. "Is that a fucking challenge?"
"Renny," Blaine tried, pulling on the back of the redhead's shirt as he tried to approach the blonde again with more anger evident in his stride and behavior. But the boy just shrugged him off harshly, almost making Blaine fall back.
At this, the three other teens turned back around from where they were heading near the car and ran up to the red-haired boy as he violently began kicking the one on the ground.
"Dude! Leave him! Enough already," the driver scolded, attempting, along with the others (including Blaine) to yank him away from the bleeding victim.
"You want me to fucking kill you, you queer? You think it's still worth being a little freak?" Renny was screaming now, kicking and struggling against the boys trying to restrain him, losing all composure he usually pretended to have.
After a swift punch to the eye from said redhead during his effort to hold him back, Jonathan huffed, backing away from the attempt. "Fuck it! You guys, let's fucking go! Renny, we're fucking leaving, and you can come or not!"
With that, the three bashers fled the scene, leaving Blaine, Renny, and Lance, who was still being beaten violently by the redhead. Blaine heaved heavy breaths, still winded from trying to hold back the other boy, and made to run to the car, but hesitated.
"B! Help me finish this fucker off!" Renny panted, not taking his eyes away from the injured boy, but Blaine ignored the comment.
Lance.
He was going to die.
He was going to get killed if he left him with Renny, wasn't he?
He had to do something…
But he heard the car start in the distance.
And he ran for it, the sound of desperate whimpers and angry homophobic screams fading out and being replaced by his again frantic heartbeat, and the dull thudding of his feet stomping against the asphalt.
"Blaine!" He heard Renny call after him as he got into the car. "You're just a little fag, too!"
As they exited the residential area, and made a few turns, the distinct sound of police sirens bled into the car, and all the occupants of the vehicle shared glances.
But they said nothing.
"…Shit."
Blaine blinked a few times, just nodding slowly and staring into the space in front of him. "Yeah…"
Nick was slowly shaking his head, still in slight disbelief. "No, like…shit!" He flailed his arms around a bit, seemingly trying to come up with something to say. "Fuck!"
"Nick," Jeff tried, placing a hand on the dark-haired boy's shoulder, trying to be slightly amused at his roommate's stammering words, but his features betraying his true horror to the story Blaine had told.
"I know, I know… But…" Nick just shook his head, resisting the urge to huff out another profanity. There was thoughtful silence for a few moments, during which Kurt moved to sit beside his boyfriend, wrapping an arm around his waist and nuzzling Blaine's chest with his cheek, his hand grazing over the curly-haired boy's stomach slowly.
"Blaine," David began, breaking the silence, looking to his friend carefully. "Did he – did Renny not know you were gay, then…?"
The curly-haired boy let out a long breath, shifting to be able to pull his boyfriend flush against him. "He didn't – he doesn't know I am."
"But… But he calls you a fa – you know – all the time," Trent pointed out, his eyebrow raised, but Blaine just shrugged, rolling his eyes exhaustedly.
"I don't know… Ever since that night, I mean, he got sent here, then I got sent here and we saw each other again, so… He just started calling me it, and I never said anything…" Blaine paused, not entirely sure why he was finding it difficult to talk about this. "He doesn't actually know I'm gay… No one back home does."
He felt Kurt tense slightly in his hold, but soon the boy relaxed again and even ran his hand over Blaine's hip comfortingly, and pressed a kiss to the side of his chest, letting him know that he understood the pain of being in the closet and hiding… Because he had been there, and it hurt.
"I think we kind of figured that one out when you introduced your boyfriend to your brother as my roommate," Thad breathed flatly, raising an eyebrow slightly, though not in a judgmental way.
Everyone just sort of nodded, maybe in agreement or just acknowledgement, but a small silence fell over the eight boys, until Jeff interrupted it gently.
"Kurt…? He didn't…?" The blonde stopped, realizing he hadn't prefaced who or what he was talking about, and shook his head slightly as everyone turned to him curiously, the pale boy sitting up in his boyfriend's arms. "I mean, what B was saying before, about that kid they…bashed," he almost winced slightly at the word, as though it was hard for him to physically say. "I mean, I know they didn't…fuck you up that bad," he made a vague gesture to Kurt's physical appearance, "but… What did he do to you…?"
Kurt licked his lips once, not making eye-contact with anyone as his eyebrows furrowed together. He knew he was going to have to tell, and judging from what Blaine had asked him after talking with Renny, the boys might already have a general idea…
"I think…" He started, blinking, almost in some kind of defeat or exhaustion, as he remembered the day. "I think they were waiting for me…"
Kurt came to a stop near the Science wing, panting as he rested, his eyebrows knotting together in confusion as he took in the sky. Against the blatantly bright streetlamp near the entrance of the building, in the very-early morning light, small flickers of white were dancing down.
It was starting to snow.
Sighing, the pale boy took off in the direction of the dorms, knowing that, although he was wearing a waterproof jacket, he wouldn't stay warm for long. After all, it was supposed to snow heavily later on in the day. He felt the burn of the cold air shooting down his throat, like acid, or ice, coursing through his lungs as he gulped in air.
He hated to run.
But on nights when he couldn't get an ounce of sleep, nights when he needed to exhaust his body to the point of passing out, on nights like this one, it was necessary.
He turned around the building to enter through the lounge entrance, and before he could even react, there were hot, rough hands all around him, causing him to shriek out in surprise.
"Shut up," someone hissed at him, and he felt his mouth being aggressively clamped shut with an unfamiliar palm. Combined with the cold – freezing cold – air, the hand covering his mouth, and the fact that his nose was already running slightly from the weather, Kurt found himself practically having an anxiety attack, panicking from not being able to breathe properly.
"Mmm! Mmm!" He mumbled loudly again the hand, and felt himself being taken somewhere, too many hands and arms and legs and bodies and faces to be able to make sense of anything quite yet.
"Let's take him to Arts."
"Where?"
"The old Art Building – it's over there."
He knew it was Renny. He knew it was Renny before he could see the familiar red hair flash past his eyes, blurry from the cold and from being terrified. He knew it was Renny before he recognized the nasally, though scratchy voice, instructing his other tormentors what to do with him.
Kurt was dropped onto the ground, and the snow that was there from a couple days past was icy and slightly wet, and was so cold it hurt, and he instantly lunged forward to attempt to rid the contact of the ice and his back, where he felt his muscles tensing and tightening and already beginning to tremble. He tried to stand.
"Go," he heard Renny instruct, almost sounding bored.
And then he felt a hard, sharp object make contact with his leg, with his knee. "Ahhh!" And he fell instantly back into the snow, cringing and moaning in pain, gripping tightly on the injured area.
"Little fuckin' queer," he heard the redhead sneer, and he felt himself being pushed to lay on his back by what he only guessed was a foot, his injured leg still pulled up to his chest. "Guess that black eye wasn't enough for ya," the voice scoffed darkly. The pale boy forced his eyes open, taking in the four boys standing around him.
Renny. The two that usually hung around him at all times. And a fourth one that he didn't recognize, but had seen around school.
But he didn't have much time to consider this, or contemplate, or try to remember the boy's name or what classes he might share with him, because in a split-second, a metal pipe of some kind was brought down onto his leg again, held in the hands of one of Renny's regular goons. And this time, actually seeing what was being used as a weapon, Kurt felt like he was going to vomit.
"Stop! Stop!" He cried, but they wouldn't. He tried to struggle, but the pain nearly paralyzed him, like the message telling his body to move wasn't being delivered. He distantly acknowledged that more than one weapon was being used on him at that point, one sharp, another blunt, maybe there was more, he wasn't sure.
Kurt heard panting, heavy breathing, maybe his own, maybe coming from his attackers, for they had briefly given a pause. He thought for a fleeting, sweet second that they were finished, that they had decided that was enough, but then,
"Flip him over,"
And all of the memories and nightmares and horrid flashbacks came flooding back into the pale boy's mind. The rape, and the man with the black, greasy hair and gap tooth, saying the same words, and he realized suddenly that this wasn't over.
They're going to rape me.
They're going to use one of those weapons and they're going to force it inside of me. I've heard of gay bashing involving sodomy, and that's what's going to happen to me.
"Oh god, don't touch me! Don't touch me!" He found himself screeching desperately, as he felt his weak body turned over, so he was on his stomach, too sore to protest physically. Kurt heard the boys snickering, mocking him, and he felt the presence of them getting closer, and he was terrified. All he saw was the alleyway ,and the men flipping him over to tear off his clothes to violate him. "P-please," he sobbed, "leave my clothes on! Don't touch me!"
But it seemed that was all it took for the four rough sets of hands to begin hungrily going at the articles covering his body, and as much as he attempted to struggle, to fight back or run, he was soon stripped down to his boxers, laying face-first in the snow, his cheeks and forehead scraping against the ice, sobbing, shaking, from the cold, and from everything else.
He knew what was coming. They were going to hurt him, hurt him in a way that he'd experienced before, and that would be it.
"Yeah, fag! You like this? You like us doing this to you?" And before he could scream out in protest, he felt one of the blunt objects brought down to his back, and then again, and more beating.
Just…more beating.
And then, along with that, there were vicious slaps brought onto his skin, surely leaving harsh, red marks that would later bruise as well.
"Fuckin' little homo, I bet you're enjoying this, huh? How much do you like this? I bet you love four guys touching you when you're naked!" And then more hits, more bangs and beatings and bruise-causing blows. And Kurt screamed.
But he couldn't help the part of him that was crying – not from the pain, or humiliation or trauma – but from relief, and maybe happiness. Because they weren't going to do anything else to him.
They weren't going to rape him.
"I'm done," The pale boy heard Renny sigh after what felt like forever, and then the objects coming in contact with his skin ceased. He heard a few exchanged words and laughing, and then the sound of retreated footsteps, crunching in the snow. Despite his constant, obvious pain, Kurt trembled to his feet, the adrenaline in his body suddenly enough to get him back where he was safe.
The pale boy struggled to clothe himself hastily, but as he was pulling on his jacket, he saw, in the distance, the boys returning.
"No fucking way in hell you're gonna go back now," one of them scoffed.
"I didn't think he'd be able to walk," another one mused quietly to Renny, who easily ignored the words.
"Tie him up. To the doors, or something…" And once again, many sets of hands were on him, and he felt pain in his shoulders and wrists as his arms were twisted behind him and something cold and sharp tugged at his wrists, holding them there. He was hardly able to see through the progressing weather, and his eyes felt like they would forever be bloodshot and filled with burning tears. "After all, it's supposed to blizzard today," the redhead smirked, and came up to him and patted him on the cheek, where cuts were present from the ice on his face. The redhead's face then turned cold, colder than it had been already, and he punched the pale boy hard in the face, "Have a good day, faggot."
And darkness took him.
"I mean… So… Yeah. Then I saw Trent walking around after I woke back up and I yelled at him until he heard me…" Kurt shifted a little bit where he sat beside Blaine, who was staring blankly at the wall in front of him.
"I feel like an idiot for holding you back now, B. That little fuck deserves getting the fucking shit kicked out of him," Trent practically growled, his eyes narrowed in anger.
"N-no, it was – it was good that you didn't hurt him too much…" Kurt said, directing the statement to his boyfriend, who was still not responding or making eye-contact. "I mean, I'm not usually one for violence, but…maybe this'll make him understand that it's not okay to just…hurt people when you feel like it. Unprovoked, I mean…"
Everyone sort of nodded slowly, still mostly in shock, both from the description Kurt gave of his attack, and from Blaine's earlier story as well. A few of the boys noticed the curly-haired boy still had not responded in any sort, but continued his dazed glare into nothingness.
"You okay, B?" Jeff asked meekly, attempting eye-contact with Nick when the addressed boy said nothing in response.
"…Blaine?" Kurt tried, and placed a gentle hand on his boyfriend's arm, searching his face, then sighed. "Baby, I know you're upset about this, but you already fought him, so—"
"I should have killed him," the curly-haired boy spoke, his voice quiet, his eyes suddenly downcast. He shook his head slightly, coming back from his thoughts. "I shouldn't have let that happen to you… Any of this crap. I shouldn't have let this thing Renny has going for you last this long."
"Oh, babe," Kurt whispered quietly, shifting to sit on his knees in front of his boyfriend, running a hand over his scruffy cheek. "I was the one who was stupid. And went running at six in the morning by myself…"
But Blaine just shook his head slowly, finally bringing his gaze up to meet Kurt's, his warm hazel eyes shiny, his eyelashes fluttering rapidly as he continued to blink quickly, attempting to avoid tears. "But I knew what Renny was really like, and the shit he can do, and has done… I should have told you… You didn't know—"
"Do not blame yourself for this." Kurt's eyes were caring, but serious. His voice suggested that there was no room for arguing and had a strong tone of finality. Blaine nodded, but weakly, and Kurt made to say something else, but remembered the other occupants of the room and turned to them. "Can I speak with him alone?"
They all silently stood and left Blaine's room, Jeff closing the door as the last one out.
Without any warning, Kurt leaned forward, capturing Blaine's lips in his own, his arms wrapping around the boy's neck, both sets of eyes fluttering closed.
But the curly-haired boy pulled away after only a short moment, his voice sounding slightly breathless. "What are you doing?"
Kurt searched his boyfriend's face briefly, then let a subtle smile fall onto his lips. "Thank you," he whispered, leaning forward to peck the boy's lips again. "I just wanted to say that. Even though it was violent, and stupid, and a total…testosterone-raging-teenage-boy thing to do," he smiled, but then his face dropped to a more serious look, "It means so much that you were there to do that for me…"
Blaine wanted to protest, to say that he shouldn't have had to retaliate, but should have prevented it in the first place, but he knew deep down that there really wasn't any way he could have…
Besides… Then Kurt leaned forward again… And the arms around his neck tightened and their lips met. And Blaine realized he would always be there for Kurt in any way he could…
They lied down on the bed, their lips not breaking contact, and the kissing got heavier, and after a few minutes, they pulled away for air, their lips still touching as they panted out breaths across each other's skin.
"Jeez," Blaine breathed, his mouth curling up in a smirk against Kurt's mouth. "Twice in one day, Kurt? If you insist," and he moved to begin working on the pale, pale area of his boyfriend's neck, grinning as goosebumps flooded the expanse of skin there.
Kurt giggled breathily, causing vibrations to travel down through his body. "Oh, shush, you… You love me, remember?"
At that, Blaine laughed as well, sitting to straddle the other boy's thighs, gripping his hips with his hands. "That I do."
"M—"
"I just – I still can't believe you let this happen. I mean, your brother, I can see, but you—"
"Mother, please. We'll get a new car, it won't matter. I talked to you yesterday—"
"Do you not understand this, Jonathan? You were seen leaving with your brother – who was not supposed to be seen by the public eye until tomorrow, might I add – and taking a cab back in the direction of Dalton after the BMW broke down…"
"…We were just planning on calling in for a car to get us… Besides, we could have been going somewhere else—"
"Not to mention it was your car disconnecting from the tow truck that caused the accident. It's just all too much! The media's already having a field day with everything that's going on. With your brother's constant absence, and the fact that you were both associated with that deranged boy a few years back, and now all this? Your father can practically guarantee a loss due to you boys' behavior."
"How does our car breaking down and having to take a cab have any influence on the election? It wasn't in our control that the tow truck—"
"You need to both get home as soon as possible, and we'll try to find a way to fix this."
The line went dead.
Jonathan flung the phone into the wall in front of him, his breathing falling heavily from his nose. This day was awful.
No, this whole trip to Dalton had been awful.
First Blaine's precious BMW broke down and they had to take a cab back to the school to sort it all out, only to find that the tow truck's supposedly secure system had malfunctioned and sent the car into oncoming traffic, totaling the vehicle, which just complicated things…
Mother was mad… He knew why she was mad, just because the more publicity on negative, upsetting things, regardless of whether or not they're the fault of the boys or not, didn't do well for the polls.
"We know what you did, you sick fuck," Jonathan snapped his head around, seeing one of his brother's friends – the Asian one, Wes – staring him down with fire in his eyes, most likely the one who had spoken, surrounded by the rest of the group that seemed to be together at all times.
"What—?"
"You deserve to be here just as much as Renny does… You should be locked up in this hell hole, too…" Nick shook his head in disappointment, looking at the older man, judgment prevalent in his features.
Jonathan scoffed. So that's what they were talking about… "Blaine tell you he was there, as well?"
"Yeah, he told us you forced him to go… And that you wouldn't leave the guy alone like he was trying to get you to," Wes countered, sneering.
"He just…" Jonathan took a breath, attempting to force his polite-self back into the front of his appearance. "He was in need of some help from me… He needed to step up his game."
"Some help—?" David scoffed
"My little brother either needed to get in with the right crowd I was in, or step up to impress my parents… And I knew that Blaine would never be what our family wants him to be, never as dignified or put-together, so I tried to help him out. He was floundering. He had no idea where, or who, he was supposed to be… Instead? He sidesteps my attempt and gets into hard drugs and disgraces our family. At least when I was…out doing things my parents didn't approve of, I hid it. Well enough, anyway," he rolled his eyes.
"…You're saying he was the one who fucked up? Because he got caught?" Jeff hissed, surprising everyone with his outburst. "You think getting into drugs is worse than almost killing people?"
Jonathan seemed to be actually considering this question, then sighed. "To my family? It isn't about what you actually do, it's about how well you can keep up appearances… And let me tell you, Blaine…was simply terrible at that," he shook his head, almost as though it were an amusing memory.
"…Dude, you're not gonna be able to get away with this shit much longer. You're gonna get caught—"
"I've completely straightened out for my parents. Since Blaine was sent here, I was the only son left… I went from Jonny to Jonathan, and wear these sorts of clothes," he gestured down to his suit from the day before, minus the outer-jacket. "I got accepted into the Political Science program at Berkley, and am at the head of my sophomore class there…" He paused then, his features dropping to a darker look. "Besides, Blaine's the official mess-up in the family. They never look at him the same way. No matter what he does, he's seen as the one who ruined things for the rest of us… I, on the other hand, am the one who saved things for my family."
Everyone stood, speechless, letting the new information of their dear friend's family sink in.
Finn stood in the entrance leading from the main office, just watching the older man with confusion and anger, having overheard the last few sentences. He looked as though he was about to say something, but Jonathan cut him off, huffing and straightening the collar of his white shirt and tie. "Excuse me, but I need to find Blaine and we should really be heading home, granted that the roads are safe enough, of course." He stood, his eyes searching the different exits of the room, lingering on the one leading to the dorms. "Now where has my brother gone wandering off to?"
Jonathan headed up the stairs, pretty sure he remembered the room his brother lived in, and threw the door open, only to stop dead in his tracks.
"Holy fuck!" Blaine screeched, yanking the blanket up to cover himself and Kurt, frantically, attempting at the same time to scurry away from his position.
The pale boy was currently beneath the curly-haired one, both of them clad in only boxers, shining with a thin layer of sweat from exertion, fresh red marks of playful bites and kisses scattering the skin along each of their bodies.
Jonathan snapped out of his daze, and the six other boys, as well as Finn, appeared in the doorway behind him, their eyes going wide at the side, knowing all the consequences that would result from this discovery…
"You little fag!" Before a second even passed, Jonathan was on Blaine, his throat between his pulsing, red hands, violently throttling him against the mattress, Kurt screaming and attempting to yank the hands away, but to no avail. Everyone else stood in shock for a brief moment at the sight, horror on their faces before running to him to attempt to pull him off. "You always like this, Blaine?" Jonathan panted, pulling a hand away from his neck only to bring it down to collide with the boy's cheek. "You always a fucking queer?" He began bringing punches down onto different parts of his brother's face and body, seemingly just trying to hurt him any way he could…
Kurt's eyes blurred with tears, and he tried to block another blow that the older man brought down, but was struck in the hand instead. "Get off of him!"
"You fucking stay out of this, princess!" He shoved the pale boy hard in the chest, causing him to fall off the bed backwards, letting out a grunt of surprise and pain. Jeff circled around the bed to attend to him.
The rest of the boys were finally able to yank Jonathan away from Blaine, who was now nursing multiple red, swollen places on his face. The older brother stumbled away from their grip and searched the area quickly, finding a lamp on Justin's desk, the tall kind that had a thick, metal neck leading to the head. Jonathan grabbed it and held it as a weapon against the other boys.
"You fuckers stay where you are—"
"Dude, just—" Finn tried, but the older man swung the object at him, the flexible neck causing the head of the lamp to whip into his chest, the sound of the light bulb breaking inside audible. "Shit!"
Jonathan threw the object one more time in the direction of the others, causing them to scatter to avoid getting hit, and he approached his brother again, who was still lying on his bed, holding his face tenderly. He threw a fist at the boy, knocking him back into reality, letting out a moan of pain.
"This start when you were back home, little brother?" His tone was malicious, and frantic, getting out of control, almost hysterical.
"Please!" Blaine sobbed, swatting pathetically at the punches coming at him. "Please, Jonny! Stop! Please stop!"
"Stop? Stop being a fag!" He brought down a particularly hard punch, landing on Blaine's eye, initiating a whimper from the boy. "Oh," Jonathan scoffed, laughing humorlessly, "what will Mother and Father think? They won't be pleased, little brother!" The older man smacked him hard, with his hand where his class ring was present, causing a deep gash to be cut into Blaine's forehead, and roll off the bed from the impact.
With the change in position, Finn jumped at the older brother, twisting his arms behind his back with all the force he hand, effectively pinning him down to the ground, in the same fashion as a cop would to a criminal. Blaine crawled over to where his boyfriend was huddled against the corner with Jeff, watching the scene unfold. "A-are you okay, b-baby?" Kurt practically choked out, pulling the boy into his arms, not receiving any kind of answer other than a returned, shaky embrace.
"I should have known," Jonathan spat from his position being held down onto his stomach, doing his best to face his brother with hate in his eyes. "You were being a fucking slut for drugs back home!"
Blaine tensed and inhaled a sharp, trembling breath and pulled away from his boyfriend, to stare at his brother in utter shock, then narrowed his eyes, slightly suspicious.
Jon scoffed, shaking his head to the extent that he could. "Yeah, oh yeah, I knew. Everyone fucking knew! We all heard how you'd whore yourself out at parties because you were a dirty slut! I thought that you were a desperate little fuck-up, but I guess you just got used to the cock, huh?"
No one said anything, the only sounds in the room being heavy breathing from a few occupants.
Jonathan let out a frustrated sigh. "Listen. I came to find you so I could take you home with me… Not a damn chance that's happening now… Mother and Father will never speak to you again once they hear…"
"They don't talk to me anyway," Blaine tried, his voice trembling, realizing he tasted blood in his mouth.
Jonathan stared at him, really just stared at him, not with anger, or disgust or pity. Just like he was truly trying to take in everything he was seeing before him. "Consider yourself completely disowned… I hope you enjoy not having a family."
"And… I think, well I'm pretty much sure they're boyfriends," Finn spoke quietly into his phone, chancing a glance to the other end of the lounge where Blaine was sitting between Kurt's legs in one of the oversized leather chairs, the pale boy kneading the muscles carefully on the other's back. "Or something like that."
"…Well is he alright? Both of them?" His mother's voice was drenched in concern, he could practically see the worry-lines around her eyes as she spoke.
"I-I think so… I mean, Blaine's brother left a little bit ago after all that shit – stuff, sorry – happened… So I think it's better now that he's not here…"
There were a few moments of silence on the other side of the line before Finn heard his mother let out a sigh.
"Well, sweetheart, I really think you boys need to come home. I'm so scared having you both out there at that place."
"…Mom… Kurt lives here. He's always here…"
"Well, it's Christmas time. And the roads should be perfectly okay now, so I want you to head back as soon as possible, okay?"
Finn nodded, even though she couldn't see him, and glanced over to where a few of the other boys joined Kurt and Blaine, giving them both sympathetic looks. "Okay… Bye, mom. Love you."
"Love you too, sweetheart."
"Dude—"
"Don't call me that, Finn," Kurt replied, sounding exhausted and bored before he even looked up. At the silence, the pale boy glanced up to his brother, a curious eyebrow raised, his hands wrapping around Blaine's chest in front of him.
"We – uh," Finn got distracted for a moment, seeing Kurt's action of affection, but shook his head, "We need to go, bro. Mom was freaking out after I told her what went down, and they both want us back, like, now."
Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but hesitated as he felt Blaine's body sag at Finn's words, and made a decision. "You can go. I'm staying here."
"What? But—"
"No, Finn. Seriously. I want to be with Blaine for Christmas," Kurt spoke the last part a little more quietly, clasping his hands together where they were around Blaine's chest. The curly-haired boy turned slightly in his arms to give his boyfriend a tender look, as though he was about to protest, but Kurt cut him off. "You can come back and get me the day after, if our parents want to see me for break, or whatever, but I need to stay here."
There was such finality in his voice that Finn didn't even try to argue.
He knew Kurt. He knew that this was the end of it. The look in his brother's eyes told him two things.
That this wasn't up for discussion, and that he was desperately in love with this Blaine guy.
"Okay," he breathed, instead of trying to force the boy to come with him, accepting the information as easily as he could. "Okay, bro, I'll see you on the day after Christmas, then." He reached down to hug Kurt the best he could with Blaine where he was, and Kurt wrapped his arms around him in return, and Finn smiled, nodded, then turned to leave.
He knew he would get in trouble for not forcing Kurt to go with him, and that his parents would be furious that the family wasn't all together for the holiday, but he knew in his heart that this was best.
Finn turned around one final time, noticing absolutely the most content smile he'd ever seen Kurt wear, and Blaine with one to match.
Yeah, this was best.