The Public

He only wanted some sugar.

Well, he needed some sugar. How can one make cookies without sugar? Blaine didn't know. Though, if he only knew getting sugar would be such a complicated task, he would have ordered the product like he usually did his groceries.

Blaine wasn't welcome at supermarkets.

He could try to go to the local store where everyone else in town bought their food, but people would only stare at him, and follow him, and videotape him to show to their friends that the monster had finally emerged from the deep confines of his cave, or something. So that idea was out.

Blaine finally decided to head over to the Seven/Eleven that was only a few miles away from his house. There most likely wouldn't be anyone there since it was nearly passed eight on a Tuesday. At least, Blaine hoped there wouldn't be.

Stepping into the tiny store, Blaine noticed that luck was finally on his side, and only the cashier – who was too busy obnoxiously chewing her gum to acknowledge his existence – was there.

Blaine quickly ran between each aisle, searching for a big enough bag of sugar. It would make his night if he found some.

But even if luck was on his side, it was never there for long, was it? Blaine was so naïve to think it ever was.

A cough sounded from behind him as he searched the shelf for his sugar. He turned quickly, hoping it wasn't the store's manager come to throw him out for 'disturbing the food'(which has happened before), only to find a woman in her mid-forties, staring at him with complete disgust. As if his mere presence was an abomination that her eyes couldn't stand to look at.

"Excuse me," she snarled, her voice matching her glare. "You're in my way."

Blaine was so surprised by her tone that he backed away a few feet, knocking into the products behind him. "I-I…I'm sorry." He whispered, quickly turning and speed walked away from the woman's piercing daggers.

And of course, Blaine's night only went downhill from there.

Before he could rush into the next aisle, he accidently bumped into a little girl no more than six years old. The girl gasped and jumped away from him, her eyes wide and frightened.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry," Blaine apologized quickly, touching the girl's arm to see if she was okay, but she only backed away farther.

"Mommy!" The girl screamed. "He touched me!"

The same woman who sneered at Blaine not a minute ago ran over to the girl. "What did you do?" She whirled around and pointed her finger in Blaine's face.

"I-I-"

"He touched my arm, mommy! Is he gonna break it?"

"You touched my baby? How dare you!"

Blaine was so shocked by the sudden turn of events he found himself speechless, unable to explain himself.

"If I ever see you put a hand on my daughter again –"

"Hey!"

The woman turned to see the gum-chewing cashier standing right behind her. "Stop the shouting, please. What's the problem?"

The woman turned back to Blaine with a grimace, pointing her manicured finger right in his face. "This boy here – this freak – put his hand on my daughter."

The cashier stared at Blaine, analyzing his scared and small demeanor, and face of pure shock. She turned back to the snarling woman. "I'll take care of it, ma'am. Please get what you came for and pay for it up front."

The woman looked like she was going to protest, but quickly changed her mind and walked away with a huff, her daughter's hand in her own.

It took everything Blaine had not to cry in that moment.

"What're you looking for?" The cashier asked quietly. She wasn't screaming. It surprised Blaine.

"Sh-…sugar," he managed to croak out, while wrapping his arms around himself. The cashier nodded and went to the next aisle, grabbing a small bag and bringing it up to the front. Blaine followed behind, his eyes glued to the floor.

"That'll be $2.00, please."

Blaine paid as fast as his fingers would allow him, hoping to not encounter the tempestuous woman and her daughter.

He stumbled out the store's door, dashing to his car – windows still broken and roof still smashed – and drove away, his vision getting blurrier by the second.

Before he could calculate where he was going, he found himself passed his house and parked in front of the Hummels'. The doorway looking warm and inviting, something Blaine had been craving for a long time.

But he couldn't. He could not go up there and ruin their evening like he's ruined so many others. He wouldn't be able to bare Kurt's concerned gaze looking at him for another second. He's caused them so much stress, so much distress. He was overreacting, anyway. How could he be so selfish? So heartless and ridiculous to think they could ever be his friend's and why was it so hard to breathe?

I should turn around.

But he could never. The Hummels' were his family. They told him they were.

He shakily walked the smooth path leading up to the house, and knocked on the door, sugar still held in his quivering hand.

"Blaine?"

Burt. Burt opened the door. Burt was staring at him with more concern than Blaine's parents ever bothered to show him.

"I got your sugar," Blaine mumbled, and the tears finally broke free.

"Have I ever told you why we moved here?" Blaine removed his face from Kurt's shoulder, his cheeks tear-stained and red.

The question confused him. "You said you were bullied," Blaine replied, his voice sounding congested from crying for nearly an hour.

"Yes, horribly bullied. It was much worse after I came out. Last year I was voted prom queen and…that was the last straw. For me and my dad."

Blaine didn't say anything, so Kurt continued. "The week before we left for Michigan, one of the jocks, Dave Karofsky, confronted me in the boys locker room. He was so much bigger than me, and could have beaten me up without breaking a sweat. But instead…he kissed me, and told me I shouldn't leave because he 'wanted' me. And I was so shocked that I just stood there. He kissed me again, and reached for my shirt. That's when I pushed him away and ran out of there. I didn't realize I was sobbing until I got home."

Kurt could feel Blaine's heart race through the fabric of his shirt. "Kurt that's…that's-how can-"

"Shhh…." Kurt was quick to reassure. "Don't get yourself worked up again. I didn't tell you that to make you more upset. I only want you to know that I've been through hard times. Maybe not like yours, but my life isn't perfect. You can tell me anything, baby. I need you to know that. I may not be as old as you, but I have had a share of bad experiences. Don't shut me out because you think I can't handle it, okay?"

Blaine took his sleeve and ran it under his eyes and nose, smiling up at Kurt when he lightly rubbed the older man's shoulder in a comforting fashion. "It's not that I think you can't handle it, Kurt. I know how strong you are. It's just not something I like to talk about. I've shared so much about myself already, stuff I would never be comfortable enough to share with anyone else. But certain things like being humiliated in public, even with only one person watching, are just not worth repeating."

Kurt looked like he was about to protest, but Blaine held up his hand, needing to finish his thought. "It hurt, okay? Even though I know that's what people think of me, it still hurt to hear it outright. But I'm fine."

Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand, forcing Blaine's eyes to look into his own. "You weren't fine when you were outside our front porch, Blaine."

"I'm-"

"Shush. I need you to talk to me, okay? Whether you think I need to hear it or not, you need to talk to me so I know if something is going on. You can't leave me guessing for over an hour while you sit and get lost in your own head. Okay?"

It was a bit blunt in Blaine's opinion, but he knew Kurt was right. He needed to get better at talking if he wanted their relationship to work.

"Okay," Blaine began. "Maybe I wasn't fine."

Kurt chuckled softly and took Blaine's hand, kissing it lightly. "I know. But you will be. Now, what do you say we make those cookies?"

"I would love that," Blaine said as he gave Kurt his first real smile of the night. "Where did you put the sugar?"

"The bag is right over there. I'll meet you downstairs."

Blaine grabbed the bag Kurt pointed to and pulled out the sugar. How could something so small create so much trouble? Blaine didn't understand. Much like everything else that's happened in his life so far.

Before he began to make his way downstairs, something on the bag of sugar caught his eye, confusing him enormously.

The label said the sugar was $5.00.

Blaine smiled for the rest of the night.

I cannot be possibly sorrier than I am now. But I am so so so SO sorry. This was ready literally about 4 weeks ago, I just had to revise it. Apparently it can take me a month to revise shit. Please don't hate me!

I'm happy to inform you the next chapter is almost finished! You won't get it any sooner than next week, sadly.

I still feel incredibly bad.