last friday night


Blaine stared at the boy beside him. His eyes were directed down, unfocused, breathing soft and even as Blaine traced shapes on the thigh of his jeans.

"Kurt?" he asked gently. The brunette glanced up at him through his long lashes, a small, forced smile on his lips. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Kurt responded, too quickly in Blaine's opinion.

Blaine sighed, bringing his hand up to brush away a lock of Kurt's hair that had fallen loose from its styling by the end of the day. "Please tell me," he said. Kurt directed his eyes downward again. "Don't think I haven't noticed that something's been bothering you."

"Nobody else seems to."

Ah, Blaine thought, there it is. "Kurt..."

Kurt sighed, shifting closer to Blaine, pressing his forehead into the other boy's shoulder. Reflexively, he wrapped his arms around the brunette, holding him to him. "I'm just tired of things," he muttered.

"Like?" Blaine prompted.

Kurt turned his head slightly, resting his cheek against Blaine's chest instead. "Do you think any of them ever think about what I went through last year and wish they had acted differently?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Every day," Blaine said simply. "But they're the ones who should think on that, not you."

Kurt closed his eyes. "But I wish they had."

"You think I don't wish the same thing?" Blaine asked him. "It kills me that you had to come to Dalton because you were scared for your life, and your friends only stepped in a handful of times to help." He paused, pressing a kiss to Kurt's forehead. "But at the same time, I'm so thankful you came to Dalton."


Blaine smiled. "I know you don't believe in God, but you can't deny that everything happens for a reason," he said. "Maybe we wouldn't be here, like we are now, if they stepped in and rescued you. Maybe we never would have even met. So yeah, your friends weren't great, but..."

"But I got you," Kurt responded, and Blaine could hear the slight smile in his words.

"Besides," Blaine continued, "why do you think they're trying so hard with Santana now? They don't want to lose her the same way they lost you."

Kurt nodded, then paused. "I wish... I wish she wanted my help." He sighed. "Maybe that's why it bothers me so much. I know exactly what it's like, but instead she snaps at us. And—"

"And everyone else, when they never helped you, are the ones she's most willing to take help from," Blaine sighed. "I know."

"I can't even be mad at her," Kurt went on. "I mean, I forgave Karofsky, and the things he did to me were so much worse. I know she's just angry, I know how hard it must be for her, I just... I want to be there for her like no one was for me."

"Then be there for her," Blaine told him, simply. "Whether she wants it or not."

Kurt nodded against the other boy's chest. "I know," he said. He tilted his head back, looking up at Blaine with a smile. "I love you."

"I love you," Blaine responded, leaning in and kissing him on the nose. Kurt smiled, shaking his head slightly at the other boy's goofiness and blushing. "Now, no more bad thoughts. Santana will be fine. Your dad is going to be great in D.C. You're going to get into NYADA, and then I'll be right behind you in a year. So no more worrying. Remember that you told me it'll give me wrinkles earlier? I don't think you're exempt from that."

"You're right," Kurt sighed. "Maybe we should just do our skin regimen now... We could always do it again right before bed...?" He looked at Blaine hopefully.

He smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to the other boy's lips. "Sounds perfect to me."