Badboy!Blaine, early!Klaine, and Blaine is not in McKinley. Hurt/comfort sort of thing.
I'll admit I wrote it because currently I've got two nasty bruises on my thigh, both from horseback riding. Dangerous sport indeed. (My mom wants me to quit every time I fall. Not gonna happen.)
IMPORTANT!
I'm going away between the 13th and the 23 of July.
You already know the drill- two drabbles per day until the 12th, on which three drabbles will be posted.
You Healed My Bruises
"Hey, baby," Blaine said into the phone, smiling even though Kurt couldn't see. "How was your day?"
"Really crappy, actually," Kurt's tone erased the smile from Blaine's face. He sounded… miserable. Depressed.
"What can I do for you? Do I need to kick someone's ass? That reeky dude again?"
Kurt giggled, but it wasn't a happy sound. "It's Rick. And no, not him. Can you please just… come over? Maybe spend the night?"
Blaine already learnt that Kurt didn't mean 'spend the night' as 'spend the night'. He usually meant cuddles and popcorn and movies, sometimes a little making out. Surprisingly, he didn't care much- he was happy to be around Kurt, no matter what they were actually doing (or not doing).
However, he knew Kurt's dad didn't really believe that.
"Is your dad…" he began, only to be stopped by Kurt.
"I told him. He'll have to suck it up."
"Okay. I'll be there in fifteen."
It actually took him seventeen minutes. Kurt counted, snuggled in a burrito of blankets on his bed. He heard Burt open the door, and Blaine greet him warily. After a short, hushed conversation, Blaine's footsteps were headed upstairs. He opened the door slowly, confused as for the dark room.
"Are you okay, honey?" he whispered, closing the door behind him and softly kick off his shoes, as well as putting down his bag.
Kurt shook his head, sniffling. "Come cuddle with me?" His voice was so pitiful, so small, and Blaine's heart broke. He quickly walked into the bed, and Kurt scooted aside to allow him under the covers.
His body seemed smaller, although he was the taller one, and he let Blaine cradle him. He rested his head on his chest and Blaine wrapped his arms around him and squeezed tight-
"Ow!" called Kurt, immediately pulling back, his hand flying to his shoulder.
"Is everything okay?" Blaine didn't try to pull Kurt back, giving him space.
"Yeah," Kurt replied too quickly. "It's nothing."
Blaine frowned. "No it's not. I can see it isn't. What's wrong, baby?" He shooed away Kurt's hand from his shoulder, pushing up the fabric of his t-shirt- to find an ugly blue and purple bruise, deep and dark against his milky skin.
Kurt pushed his hand away and pulled the sleeve back down. "It's nothing."
Blaine looked at him, shocked. "Who did that to you? I'll make them pay, I swear to god I will. No one can touch you, you understand? They better not dare."
Kurt's shoulders were slumped, and he fell back onto Blaine's chest, burying his face in his warmness. "I-it was Karofsky. He just shoved me into a locker, that's all. But I already told Ms. Pillsbury. She'll have principal Figgins handle him. Don't get in trouble because of me. "
"Does your dad know?"
"He doesn't know," Kurt said slightly louder. "And you better keep it that way."
Blaine was going to tell Burt. Both of them knew it, but Kurt didn't have the power to argue. Blaine just wrapped a hand around his waist, holding him close, and put the other ever-so-gently over his wounded shoulder. "He'll pay, Kurt. No one can touch you," he repeated, then his tone got softer. "Sleep, alright? It'll help you heal faster."
"Is that even true?"
Blaine smiled a little, hearing Kurt's regular tome returning. "Shut up and sleep," he kissed Kurt's head.
"Okay. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."