Kurt knocked on the door and waited almost a full minute for a response from inside. His bag dangled awkwardly from his right hand and he worried his lip between his teeth when there was no response. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson had gone to bed after directing him to the room he would be sharing with Blaine. Kurt had just spent almost a full hour with the couple, going over everything from who normally cooks breakfast in the mornings to how to break out the back window in case of a fire.

Kurt fidgeted through the whole conversation but tried his hardest to listen and remember all of the information. He knew adults hated it when they had to repeat themselves. So far the couple seemed nice, but Kurt knew better than to trust them.

"You going to come in, or what?" The voice jarred Kurt from his thoughts, and he shook his head before entering the room. It was clean, something that Kurt hadn't expected. There were twin beds, each with the same brown down comforter and sheets tucked in neatly. There was a window on the right side of the room with a desk underneath it, books and papers scattered across it. A dresser was on the other wall, and there were two doors. Kurt guessed one would lead to a bathroom, and the other a closet. Blaine was sprawled across one bed with his laptop open in front of him. He had ear buds in but had taken one out and was looking at Kurt expectantly. Kurt stepped in and dropped his bag on the empty bed.

"So," Blaine started. "I cleared out the bottom two drawers of the dresser for you, and there's some empty space in the closet for your shoes and stuff."

"Thank you," Kurt replied.

"Don't thank me, my mom made me do it," Blaine rolled his eyes. "If it was up to me, I wouldn't have to share my room with every stray that comes through the door." Kurt flinched, but didn't say anything. It was understandable after all. Kurt had no doubt that he would be out of here by Christmas, no one seemed to want to put up with him in the long term. Even his own father couldn't be bothered to deal with him. "Like I said, don't mess with my stuff. Mom put your school things over there," he gestured to the bedside table. "There's not room for two desks in here so we've got to share that one."

"Okay."

"I do my schoolwork right when I get home, so you can have it when I finish," Blaine continued, now his attention was fully focused on his computer but he kept talking like he had given this speech 100 times. "I shower in the morning before school, so you can either wake up before me or do it at night."

Kurt scratched his head and nodded. Everything was harder with this stupid cast and it took him forever to wrap it up and take a shower. He was exhausted and didn't feel like dealing with it tonight so he would just have to get up early. He hardly slept as it was so that shouldn't be a problem.

"Any questions?" Blaine asked, glancing up.

"No," Kurt shook his head.

"Do you ever say more than two words at a time?" Blaine snorted. Kurt's face reddened but he didn't know how to respond, so he just didn't say anything. Blaine just stuck his other earbud in and proceeded to ignore Kurt, who set about unpacking.

He started by unzipping his bag, which was a task in and of itself with only one hand. Finally it was open, and Kurt dumped his stuff on the bed. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Blaine's head bobbed to music Kurt couldn't hear, and his fingers tapped away on the keyboard, obviously talking to someone.

Starting with his clothes, Kurt folded them as best as he could. He pulled open the dresser, which was adjacent to his bed, and placed them in the bottom drawer. Right now he only had two pairs of jeans and a handful of T shirts to his name. There was a pang in his chest when Kurt remembered all the clothes his father had ruined in his rage. All of his fashionable, girly stuff had been torn to shreds in his last blowout. Kurt shuddered and forced his thoughts elsewhere. The last thing he wanted was to have one of his panic attacks his first night here, with his roommate who clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

Kurt picked up the picture that had fluttered to his bed with the rest of his stuff, studying it. His face, ten years younger, is grinning gap toothed back at him. A woman with long, flowing blonde hair has her hand on his shoulder and her mouth open in a laugh. It is the only picture of his mother that he has. He places it carefully in the drawer of his bedside table.

Sitting on the bed, he reaches down to untie his shoelaces. Once he slips his shoes off he steps over to the closet. Inside are a few rows of carefully hung clothes. Button downs, cardigans, and slacks. Kurt runs his hand wistfully across them before bending down to place his shoes in the corner. He stuffs his bag underneath the bed and takes the remainder of his stuff and a clean T shirt to the bathroom.

Finally alone for the first time in hours, Kurt let out a sigh. Being around people constantly made him jumpy and nervous. His ribs had been sore all day, and Kurt was finally allowing himself to show it. He grimaced and tried to breathe steadily as he wrestled his shirt off with one hand. The bruises still looked nasty. They were purpling with green around the edges and covered almost his entire torso. Kurt splashed his face with water. He spent a few minutes doing his bedtime ritual before pulling on a clean T-shirt and slipping his pants off, leaving him in boxers. He gathered up all his stuff before stepping out of the bathroom.

The site that met him was unexpected. Blaine was shirtless, with his back to Kurt digging through his dresser. Though Blaine didn't look like a particularly threatening guy, Kurt could see enough to know he should be wary of him. His muscles rippled as he moved and there wasn't a blemish of his skin on his back. Kurt would be ashamed for him to see the scars that criss crossed his body. He wrapped his good arm around his torso and cleared his throat so Blaine would know he was there.

Blaine immediately whirled around. "Whoa, creep much?" He said. Kurt tried his hardest to avert his eyes, but despite all of his father's conditioning he was gay, for crying out loud.

"Sorry," Kurt stepped around him to get to his bed. Blaine didn't say anything but slammed the door to the bathroom when he went in, making Kurt jump. Kurt settled into his bed, which was cozy with the heavy comforter on top of him. He waited for Blaine to come out of the bathroom before gathering up the courage to voice his concern.

"Erm, Blaine," he started hesitantly.

"What?" Blaine asked, looking surprised that Kurt had said anything at all.

"Do you mind if we leave the bathroom light on?"

"Please don't tell me you're afraid of the dark," Blaine rolled his eyes. Kurt bit his lip.

"I would just feel better if-"

"Whatever," Blaine cut in. "Just don't tell Coop or he'll rib you about it forever." Kurt nodded, wide eyed. Had Blaine just given him advice? They didn't exchange any other words as Blaine got into bed and switched off the lamp, rolling over so he was facing the wall.

A/N: I'M SORRY. It has been literally half a year since I updated, to be honest I had forgotten all about this story. To make it up to you I'll post another chapter by Tuesday if there's still any readers! Hope this chapter wasn't too boring - it was a bit of a filler.