12

Fight Fire with Fire

Kurt's face and fingers were numb from cold when they stopped, ever-still exhilarated by the bike. Blaine grinned when he giggled, stepping off the bike and taking Kurt's hands after he took the helmet on.

"I'm pretty sure that will always be fun," he grinned. Blaine pecked his cheek.

"How about when you freeze to death?" He offered, grinning. Kurt laughed, leaning against his chest.

"I think you can do a pretty good job of keeping me warm." Blaine caught his lips, ducking to find them and grinning.

"Alright, let's go," he whispered, linking his fingers in his.

As they got closer to their destination, the vibrations in the ground rattling up Kurt's legs, chattering his teeth. He took a breath, suddenly nervous.

"Hey," he heard Sebastian stay, leaning against the building. Blaine rolled his eyes, smirking. Kurt gave his spiteful smile, eyes crinkling.

"Oh, I thought I smelled Hollister excrement," he remarked. Blaine stifled laughter, playing it off as a cough. Sebastian ignored it.

"Wasn't sure if you guys were coming,"

"Oh, I guess we are late, huh?" Kurt giggled, hooking his arm in Blaine's and holding him possessively. "Sorry, Blaine pulled over about halfway here. Something about just having to kiss me right then and there." Blaine grinned, only nodding because of how flawless and smooth the lie was. Sebastian pursed his lips, nodding.

"Right. Shall we?"

The vibrations and humming in Kurt's ears only grew worse the closer he got to the building. He pushed his ticket into someone's hand, clinging to Blaine's sleeve as he stepped into the over-crowded warehouse.

The uneasiness crept into his stomach, quickening his heart-rate and sinking his stomach. He clicked his tongue, unable to understand any of the chaos going on around him. He clung to Blaine's sleeve for dear life, truly blind for the first time in a long time.

"What's wrong, Kurt?" Sebastian said in his ear. "A little crowded? Little loud?"

He knew. He knew the concert was going to be in this tiny space with this many people. Kurt could only imagine what the noise would be like.

The amp rang, the high-pitched sound causing discomfort around the room, cursing from Blaine, a staggered step and hands over ears from Kurt.

Sebastian pushed past him, disconnecting him from Blaine, gaining his attention, taking it away from Kurt only for a moment. That's all you need in a crowd, one moment before people gush through the gap you've now created, shuffling to get closer to the stage, the exit for a cigarette or the port-a-potties outside.

"Blaine!" He called, fruitlessly clicking, afraid to feel around, knowing he'd find nothing but bodies of surly men and agitated women. "BLAINE!" Still nothing. A guitar strummed, the energy in the room amplifying. Whistles pierced the air with general cheering, disorienting the boy more. "Blaine!"

"Kurt!" Blaine elbowed and shoved through people, the determination and venom in his expression barring the abused from saying something. He didn't stop until he reached him, holding his shoulders. "You alright?"

"It's crowded," he breathed, breath short. "It's crowded and loud. I don't know where I'm supposed to look, I…"

"Do we need to go?" He asked, searching his face.

"No, no, I'm alright. I'll be okay, I—"

The music started, the first notes resonating through the too-small space, the amp not twelve feet from them.

The singer starts his screeching and lyrics, the entire band throbbing and thrumming throughout the room. It takes less than a minute for Kurt to scream, his hands clamped tight over his ears, blood starting to drip through. "Kurt!" He started pushing through the crowd, shoving to the door, guiding Kurt through it, getting him out and away from the awful noise.

Tears were in Kurt's eyes, shameful ones that burned and boiled in his retinas.

God damn it, why can't I do ANYTHING RIGHT?

"Kurt, hey, are you okay?" Blaine asked, frantic, holding his shoulders, trying to meet his eyes. "Do I need to take you to the emergency room? We can go right now," he assured, nodding frantically. "Kurt, what can I do?"

"Shh!" Kurt hissed, taking choking breaths. "Shh…" Eyes still closed, he touched Blaine's cheek, his bloodied hand still on his slightly leaking ear. "Give me a second," he whispered, feeling the bass resonate inside of him. "Can we get farther away?" Blaine scooped him up without hesitation, carrying him back to the bike, desperate to do something for him. Anything. He hurt him again. "Blaine, I'm alright," he said softly, using the bike to hold himself up.

"You sure you don't need to go to the hospital?" He asked, frantic.

"I'm alright. It stopped, see?" He held out the clean side of his handkerchief, sighing. "Blaine, go back inside and watch the concert. I'll stay out here." Blaine frowned.

"I'm not goin' back in there without you," he said. Kurt shook his head.

"Blaine, go. It's alright. I'll be fine out here," he assured, touching his sleeve. "You were so excited about this, don't let me ruin it for you." Blaine shook his head, eyes flicking to the building.

"I was excited because I was gonna be with you," he said. "Not really any point if you're not there. I'll go tell Sebastian…" He paused, something suddenly dawning on him. His fists clenched, jaw flexed, teeth ground, blood pressure rising. "That son of a bitch," he growled.

"Hey!"

"Speak of the dumbass…" Kurt muttered.

"What happened back there?" Sebastian asked, looking to Kurt. "Aw, did things get a little rowdy for you? You should think about getting a seeing-eye dog. Or maybe someone besides Blaine to be your baby sitter all the time."

"HEY—"

"Blaine, I've got it," Kurt said, tossing the rag aside, stepping closer to him. "So you really think I'm helpless, don't you?" He challenged. "Just because I can't see, right?"

"I think useless might be the better term."

"Useless," Kurt nodded, smirking. He shrugged out of his jacket, shoving it into Blaine's hands. "Alright. If I'm so useless, prove it. Fight me."

"Excuse me?" He snorted. Kurt's smirk grew.

"Fight me. Unless you're scared?"

"I'm not about to have charges pressed against me for beating a blind kid," he said, stepping closer, just inches away from Kurt's face.

"If you're scared, just say so," he whispered. Sebastian snorted. "Then let's go."

Blaine watched, frozen, smiling, swallowing hard.

This is hot.

They stood there for a moment. Kurt shoved him. "Come on. You think you're better than me, prove it. Hit me." He pushed again. Sebastian flushed with anger. Kurt got in his face again, seething, lip twitching in a snarl. "Hit me."

A moment later Sebastian's anticipated fist collided with his jaw, staggering him backward. Kurt felt blood in his mouth, his lip split. He grinned.

"There!" Sebastian yelled. "Happy now?"

"I'm sick of your mouth," Kurt said. "I'm tired of you being around my boyfriend and treating him like a piece of meat." He clicked his tongue a few times, finding the lanky teen easily, bringing a heavy upper-cut to his face.

Blaine watched as they tussled back and forth, punch after punch, Kurt managing to dodge half of the Warbler's, tiring him, wearing him down. He finally kicked his feet out from under him, smiling when the satisfying crunch and groan that followed. He pressed his shoe into his jugular, hindering his attempts to catch his breath again.

"Stay away from my boyfriend," he growled. "Stay away from him, or I'll give you an encore performance."

He turned, taking his jacket back from Blaine and slipping it on. He grabbed his collar, yanking him toward him and kissing him hard. Blaine stared at him when they broke apart, breathing hard. "Wow," he whispered. Kurt took deep breaths, a bruise forming on his cheek.

"You wanna go back to my house and order in?" He asked, voice rough. "We could watch a movie or something—" Blaine grabbed his face again, suckling his lips, feeling him blush.

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life," he said, lips still a breath away from each other. Kurt blushed. "You really are my Daredevil, huh?"

"Sorry I ruined your concert," he whispered. Blaine shook his head.

"You didn't ruin it. I like fight club better anyway," he whispered. Kurt grinned. "C'mon, let's go."

The house reeked of Chinese food when Burt came home, a movie playing in the front room. He peered around the corner.

Kurt and Blaine were on the couch, Blaine's head resting in his son's lap, smiling as Kurt spoke, telling a story about something Rachel did last week in Glee Club. He hung off of every word, eyes sparkling as he stared at him. They giggled together, ignoring the movie while Kurt dropped a piece of orange chicken in Blaine's mouth.

Burt looked at his son, who was so happy that—

Wait.

"Kurt, what the hell happened to your face?" He barked, stalking into the room. Blaine sat up, keeping his mouth shut.

"I got in a fight," he shrugged.

"Someone kit you? Who the hell—"

"This guy wouldn't shut up and he kept hitting on Blaine. I got tired of him making fun of me because I'm blind so I told him to hit me. We fought, I won, Blaine and I got Chinese and decided to watch Mean Girls," he said simply. "Is that alright?"

"No, it's not— Wait, you won?" Burt said, trying to hide the overwhelming sense of pride that he had at this moment.

"Yeah. I took those self defense classes a few years ago, remember?" He said, shrugging it off.

"I remember you telling me that you didn't like violence and didn't see the point of them," he said pointedly. Kurt shrugged.

"I guess I was just that angry," he said. Burt smiled.

"So…was this kid bleedin' or…?" He ventured.

"Yeah, he was," Blaine grinned. Kurt shrugged. Burt patted his son's shoulder.

"Don't stay up too late," he said, stepping out of the room.

Blaine leaned against Kurt again, sighing. "Didn't even look at me," he mumbled.

"Better than grilling you on your criminal activity, isn't it?" He said. Blaine shrugged.

"I guess so," he smiled, kissing his cheek.

They sat in silence for awhile, watching Regina George scream with the protein bar in her mouth, causing laughter from the couple. Kurt rubbed Blaine's forehead, content and warm, absently lulling him to sleep. Blaine leaned into his touch and his stomach, peaceful.

He woke three hours later with a start, his heart pounding, waking Kurt immediately.

"Shit!" He hissed, pulling on his shoes and grabbing his keys.

"What's wrong?" Kurt mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

"I was supposed to be home two hours ago!" He said. "Fuck! My dad's gonna beat my ass! God damn it!"

"Your dad what?" Kurt said. Blaine froze, turning to look at him.

"I…I'll talk to you about this later, okay?" He said softly, kissing his cheek. "I really have to go. I'll call you, I promise."

"Text me when you get home," Kurt said, pale and fearful.

"I'll be alright," he assured. Kurt touched his face.

"You don't know if it will do you?" he asked quietly. Another swift kiss instead of an answer.

"I'll see you later, baby." He rushed out the door, his bike roaring to life and fading away into the night. Kurt stayed on the couch, staring at his hands, out of his mind with worry.

He hits him, he thought miserably. His dad hits him.

He waited, and waited for a message to come through, for a flicker that Blaine was okay and what he feared most wasn't true.

Finally, his phone chirped, Text from: Blaine.

He ripped it open, listening to the computerized voice as it read his message.

"I'm alright. I'll see you as soon as I can. I'll miss you, baby."

He texted back as fast as he could, worried and frustrated tears in his eyes. "I'll miss you too. Be safe."

He bowed his head, wishing now that he was with Blaine, holding him, telling him it was okay if that was what he needed.

He kissed his phone, wrapping his arms around his chest, smelling Blaine on his clothes, hoping and praying that he was alright.

He wasn't.

He nursed the deep cut above his eye, picking pieces of glass out of the dotting specks on his face. That's what happens when you have a half-full whiskey bottle thrown at your head.

He winces, knowing he needs stitches but forces himself to endure. To clot the blood with another rag that'll end up as bloody as the other ones and pray it just stops. He looks at Kurt's text and chuckles to himself.

"Be safe." I wish I had that option, baby. I really do.