Author Notes: Hi guys! For those of you reading my other glee fic, sorry there's been no movement on it; I'm finding my new uni course very time demanding, and haven't had much writing time. But this oneshot, brought on by last night's epic episode 'The First Time', just would not leave me alone! It was also partially inspired by last Sunday's Misfits, which dealt with similar themes. This kicks off in the middle of the gay bar scene, so spoilers for the entire episode basically.

WARNINGS: Attempted rape. Not necessarily graphic, but you need to know that going into this.


Blaine's head felt really fluffy. Really funny. Really-

The world skipped, Sebastian's face blurring into Kurt's and back again, and this music was really good, really everywhere, really-

His body pushed up against Kurt as they danced, smiling, grinning, and he let himself be pulled either which way, and the faces blurred again, but this was good, this was fun. They were supposed to be fun, spontaneous, not boring, not old. Supposed to be young. That was a good idea, right? Dancing is good, being close to Kurt is good. Lots of things are good.

Like this bar. This bar is really good.

And the music, and the bodies next to him, and his really, really fluffy brain.

Blaine was almost certain he stumbled, and his vision skipped again, and his stomach lurched sickeningly.


Brain less fluffy. Brain a lot more wobbly.

A pair of strong arms wound around his waist then, and a beautiful face smiling a wry grin swam into his view.


Blaine loves Kurt.

"I think it's time we headed back?" Kurt's voice was melodious, but still piercing as it rose to be heard over the music.

Blaine blinked owlishly, nodding sloppily. Home. Yeah, home would be good? At least get away from the music, get away from the noise, get away from the spinning in his ears and the pounding in his head and the horrible way the world kept tilting.

The chill November air was a blast on Blaine's face, disconcerting but welcoming, and he leant further against Kurt, babbling something at him. He wasn't really keeping track, but Kurt was definitely replying.

Blaine loves Kurt.

The world tipped again, and Blaine's skin felt tingling, his skin felt hot and tight and strange and weird and funny.

Car? Oh, car.


And it seemed like a good idea, and he was kissing Kurt, grabbing at Kurt's clothes, because Blaine felt funny and weird, and he didn't like it and Kurt could make him feel better, Blaine knew he could.

They should just get it over with.

Stop being scared, because scary was bad, and this was scary. The spinning and the heat and the tingling and the roiling.

But then Kurt ripped himself away from Blaine's grasp, and suddenly he was yelling, and Blaine was so, so confused, because his head hurt and his vision skipped, and he just wanted it all to stop.

Why was Kurt yelling?

Blaine loves Kurt.

Itchy skin, itchy feet, and somehow Blaine managed to lever himself out of the car, staggering away from Kurt, because he didn't understand. He swayed slightly, throwing his hands up in the air, because he doesn't want Kurt to yell; he doesn't want to feel like this.

His brain is skipping and stuttering, and everything sort of made sense, but at the same time, it really, really didn't, and his skin felt hot and wrong and he just had to get away.


Kurt had said home.

Home was a good idea.

Blaine should walk home.

He vaguely heard someone yell, but it was distant, removed, and really, it was hard enough to watch the ground and make sure his feet went where he told them.

Time skipped again, and Blaine was pretty sure he wasn't in the parking lot anymore. And he might have been cold, but he was also very hot, and either way, his skin was prickling.

His feet crossed sideways, and his shoulder impacted something as he stumbled without balance.




Where even was he?

What was even happening?

Where was Kurt?

Blaine loves Kurt.

Strong arms wrapped securely around Blaine's waist, and he found himself leaning against something softer, warmer.


His skin felt hot and tight, and the world just wasn't co-operating, and his stomach felt fuzzy and his brain felt sick.

Blaine let his head drop onto Kurt's shoulder, and the arms around his waist tightened into a more guiding grip, helping him walk again.

"It's okay, come on Blaine-"

The voice was soft and cajoling and gentle, and not at all angry or sad or yelling.

That's nice.

Blaine felt his back hit something hard. Car? Probably car. And then he leant back, his spine curving to the contours of the surface behind him as Kurt pressed up against him, as Kurt's hands dipped to grip onto his hips, as Kurt's lips latched ghosted over his jaw, over his neck, his breath hot.

Blaine felt claustrophobic, he felt weird, he felt odd, and Kurt's fingers were digging hard into his hips, his body was pressed flush, tight, too tight against Blaine, grinding against him, his teeth nipping at Blaine's neck.

Blaine mumbled in confusion, he let his forehead drop to rest against Kurt's collarbone.

Kurt's taller than Blaine.

Kurt's a lot taller than Blaine?

Blaine loves Kurt.

And then one of the hands dipped, wandered, and Blaine felt an intruding pressure on his crotch, hard, persistent, groping.

"Come on Blaine, this'll be good, I promise…"

Kurt's voice dripped into Blaine's ear, and he felt himself manoeuvred like a rag doll, separate, divided, removed.

But Kurt yelled, didn't he?

"Let's have some fun, yeah Blaine? You'll enjoy this-"

The groping hand, the grinding crotch, the pressure, it all returned in a rushing heat as Blaine felt himself pushed back, his knees bending, something plastic and sharp digging into his side as suddenly he was in the back seat of a car.

Everything felt weird and wrong and hot and tight and what was happening again?

Groping pressure increased through the fabric of his pants, and Blaine's head lolled, the tingling electricity jolting through him the only thing that seemed grounded.

And then the fingers wandered upwards to his waistband, harsh and frantic, and he was pretty sure there were some whispered fervent placations, but he couldn't hear, and what was, why was-

Blaine loves Kurt.

But then the groping pressure disappeared and the body above Blaine was suddenly gone, removed, not there.

Blaine didn't understand. His head felt hot and his skin felt tight and everything was just too much.

He let his head drop to the side again and his body curl how it wanted in the cramped space. His skull felt like it was going to split in two.


Where was Kurt?

Blaine loves Kurt.

Kurt took a breath, hands resting on his steering wheel. Calm down. Just calm down.

Tonight had not been a good night.

He took another steadying breath.

Okay, no, be angry at Blaine later, yell at Blaine later. Right now, your boyfriend is very, very drunk, and there's no way you can let him walk home by himself.

Kurt growled at himself out of frustration, and got out of the car again, locking it behind him. Blaine really was a lightweight; there's no way he could have gotten very far. Kurt strode off in the direction he had thought Blaine was heading.

Where was he? Frustration and anger bubbled, but he tried to keep a level head.

Yell later. Just yell later.

"Kurt?" Kurt jumped out of his skin, spinning around. Dave Karofsky stood a few feet away, hands stuffed into pockets with a frown on his face, "Sorry. Didn't mean to make you jump."

Kurt forced his shoulders to relax, "Don't be. Just… habit, I guess."

David shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, "What are you doing out here? Where's your boyfriend?"

Kurt shook his head, a lot calmer, and for some reason, not really scared, despite the fact he was alone in a deserted parking lot with his old bully. Maybe he was naïve. Or tired. Or still too busy being angry at Blaine. "He was drunk and we had a fight. He wandered off, but I need to find him. I can't just let him walk home by himself." Why was he even telling Karofsky? The words just tumbled out.

But David simply shrugged, "That sucks. I can help you look for him if you like? He's a midget; can't've got far. I'd say ask your other friend, but he looked pretty busy…"

Kurt's head whipped around, a strange unexplainable twist coiling in his stomach, "Friend?"

"Yeah, skinny guy, preppy shirt, shit-eating grin?"


Karofsky shrugged, "Dunno. But I think I saw him round the back of the bar. Guess he pulled."

Sebastian. Pulled. A guy. Despite being all over Blaine all night, he'd pulled.

Kurt's whole body just froze like he had been electrocuted.

"Oh my God…" He knew. He just knew, he couldn't explain but he did.

"What?" David frowned, honestly concerned.

Blaine was the other guy…

"Where? Show me! Now!"

David pointed and Kurt was off running, Karofsky quickly on his heels, confused but determined to find out what was going on.

Kurt's heart pounded in his ears, a million scenarios. What if Blaine got with Sebastian because Kurt had rejected him? What if Sebastian had won, what if-

Kurt's heart stuttered for a second. Tucked away in a shadowy corner of the lot was the Dalton boy's car. The back door was slightly ajar, not quiet shut, and a shadow was moving behind the slightly steaming glass.

No. Hell no. Not like this. However drunk Blaine got, surely he couldn't be that stupid?

Kurt made the last metre, and ripped the door open in time to see Sebastian on top of his boyfriend in the backseat, hands all over him, over his hips, fumbling at Blaine's waistband, pulling at his own belt.

And Kurt just froze, completely couldn't process.

Karofsky apparently could, because he took one look, swore violently, and bodily pulled Sebastian out of the car. And Sebastian might be tall, but Karofsky is freaking huge and scary, and lands a really good punch.

Or, three punches, to be precise. Enough to sent Sebastian to the floor.

"Blaine?" Kurt still couldn't move, he hated how his voice cracked, he hated how he just wanted to cry, he hated that Blaine's betrayal could do this to him, that Blaine would do this to him.

Karofsky ignored Kurt, clambering into the car, grasping at Blaine's shoulders, "Blaine? Blaine, can you hear me? Blaine!" Blaine's body twisted away, his eyes unfocussed and drooping, "Shit, he really dosed you up, didn't he?"

David's words jump-started Kurt's brain. Dosed? What?

And then he really looked. He looked past the immediate image of the untucked shirt and half open pants. He looked past the love bite on Blaine's neck and his swollen red lips.

He looked at his boyfriend's eyes.

And he couldn't see Blaine.

They were empty; confused, blank, and just really not there.

It all rushed towards Kurt like a speeding train.

"I really don't like that guy…"

"He's harmless…"

"A beer for Blaine…"

"You better watch your boyfriend…"

"I've only had one beer…"

Karofsky got a good grip around Blaine's middle, attempting to pull him out of the backseat. Blaine's head completely dropped against the other boy's chest, and Kurt knew Blaine really had no idea what was going on, because he would never let himself get so close to the old bully. His eyes were closed, and Kurt's heart just thumped, a lump in his throat.

One second more…

What if he'd driven off? What if he'd left?

David had somehow scooted himself and Blaine to the door of the car, and Kurt dived forwards to help him support the barely conscious boy as Karofsky pulled them out completely. Blaine's knees buckled and he didn't even try to support his own weight as he bonelessly slumped against Karofsky, fingers barely twined into the other boy's jacket.

Kurt was almost sure he could feel himself crying, but ignored the tears running down his cheeks, instead just looping his arms around Blaine's waist from the other side.

He didn't take his eyes off Blaine's face as they walked him back to the car. He didn't look at David, he didn't look at the wet leafy ground, and he definitely didn't even glance at the bloody unconscious visage of Sebastian, still lying right where Karofsky had floored him.

Between them, they managed to get a barely responsive Blaine into the back seat.

"I'll drive you both." David punctured the silence.

Kurt shook his head, "No, it's fine."

"Kurt, you're not in any shape to drive-"

"I'll look after him." Kurt cut across Karofsky sharply with a catch in his voice.

The other boy backed off, face grim, "Do you still have my cell number from when I was in the Bully Whips?" Kurt nodded, his eyes still fixed on Blaine through the car window, "Text me when you both get home, okay?"


David grabbed Kurt's arm, and finally got his full attention, "I knew a girl once. At a party. A couple of college guys crashed it and tried to spike some of the cheerleaders' drinks. She looked the same way Blaine did. She was lucky too, but Kurt, he won't remember, and when he wakes up, he'll be freaked. Just talk to him, yeah? Just…be there." Kurt blinked, overwhelmed by both the entire evening and now this version of his old bully.

"Thank you." He meant it, "If you hadn't been here tonight-"

"I owe you way more. And no one deserves what that creep tried to do."

"Sebastian…" Kurt remembered in a daze and a rush of anger.

"Go home Kurt. Take Blaine home."

So Kurt just nodded. He looked upon the one person he had feared the most in his life with complete trust, and got in the car.

The first thing Blaine registered was a pounding head. Take hangover headache, and then make it sharper, deeper, darker.

The second thing Blaine registered was a complete black hole where his memory should be.

His eyes snapped open with a breathless jolt running through his body, and he registered too many things at once.

Kurt's room, Kurt's bed, no shirt, no shoes, definitely pants, Kurt next to him, Kurt's arms around him, dawn through the curtains.

No memory.

But he didn't feel drunk. He didn't feel like he'd had too much alcohol, he didn't feel like he wanted to throw up.

Well, he did, but not because of alcohol.

And, god, his head hurt so much.

And then his brain flat-lined, because he was shirtless, and his pants rode quite low on his hips, and were those fingermarks? Tiny bruises bloomed dark against his hipbones, a suggestive pattern that his eyes couldn't pull away from.

Oh god.

What happened last night?

Why couldn't he remember?

"K-kurt?" Blaine's voice came out in a choke, scrambling in a frantic attempt to sit up on his elbows, to sit up and get as far away from those bruises as possible.

Except he couldn't. Because they were on him.

He dislodged Kurt's arms in his panic, and this was worse, so much worse than when he had woken up hungover in Kurt's bed the last time.

There were no snippets of drunken memories, no alcohol-fuzzed mouth, no still-slightly-drunk sensation.

Just blank. A horrible, terrifying black blank, and a throbbing head.

Kurt blinked awake, confused for a second before he sat up and grabbed at his panicking boyfriend, "Blaine! Blaine, honey, calm down." Blaine's hands were shaking, his eyes confused as they latched onto Kurt's, "Hey, hey, it's okay, you're safe, it's okay."

Blaine's breath was coming in short, sharp snatches of air, and Kurt couldn't help but let his eyes be drawn to Sebastian's finger marks on Blaine's skin, the angry red bite on his neck, now stark in the morning light. He pushed his fury to one side. Later.

"Kurt, what…" Blaine swallowed, took a breath, and Kurt watched as the other boy seemed to gather himself, calming down considerably, clearly making an effort to think rationally. "What happened? I can't…I don't remember…I was dancing with you in the bar, and…nothing. Kurt?" Despite all attempts, his voice had gathered in pitch and panic all over again as he spoke.

Kurt bit his lip, but otherwise somehow managed to keep his expression calm, soothing. Without any real thought, Kurt opened his arms. Blaine automatically curled into the offered embrace, leaning against Kurt's chest, allowing himself to be pulled back down into more a reclining sitting position on the bed.

Kurt's mind raced and screamed, tumbling over and over. But, in the end, why lie? Why gild words and hide behind fancy implications? It wasn't fair to Blaine. It was too lenient on what Sebastian had tried to do. "Sebastian spiked your drink last night with a date-rape drug." Blaine's entire body flinched in Kurt's arms, and he was quick to continue, "Nothing happened. Karofsky and I stopped him before he got too far."

Blaine's eyes wouldn't look away from the bruises on his hips. He wanted to, but they just wouldn't obey him. He felt sick, "How far is too far?"

"The back of his car." Kurt's voice was oddly blank, as was Blaine's shell shocked nod. One beat, two beats, Blaine's breath getting faster-

And then Blaine ripped himself from Kurt's arms, hitting the floor hard on his knees and grabbed the trash can.

His heaves were practically dry, but he couldn't stop the reflex, the sheer what if. The no memory, and even if nothing had happened, the crawling, disgusting feeling that was trying to suffocate him.

And then Kurt was beside him, holding him.

God, he couldn't love Kurt any more than in that moment. Silent, around him, there.

They talked. A lot. They got through the stage of Blaine's first freak out. They got past the stage of Kurt's profuse, tumbling apologies for nearly leaving him, for not noticing that Blaine wasn't really drunk, but drugged.

Because how could he have noticed?

He sure as hell noticed what kind of a guy Sebastian was, and Blaine only felt closer to Kurt for that. Protected. Safe.

And with a black chasm torn through his memories, Blaine really needed to feel safe right now.

They skipped school, but Blaine insisted they went to the last Thursday rehearsal in the afternoon.

He just needed to disappear for a few hours into Tony. Into music.

Nick called to say Sebastian was off sick and wouldn't make the opening night – apparently he got mugged on his way home from a bar the other night.

Kurt viciously loved Karofsky for what he had done for them. He wasn't a person for revenge, but the sad fact was they couldn't involve the cops – two gay kids drinking underage at a gay bar in Ohio report a near rape? Yeah, that'd be received really well.

He hadn't even told his dad, but that had been more because of Blaine. He had seen the sheer blind terror in Blaine's eyes at the mere idea of Burt Hummel knowing. It killed Kurt, but he wouldn't betray Blaine's trust, not now, not ever.

Kurt walked softly onto the stage, watching with love as Blaine gracefully twirled his way into a jump, "You were amazing tonight."

Blaine grinned shyly, "I messed up this move. I want to get it right for tomorrow."

Kurt smiled gently, coming up to stand before his boyfriend, "Well, I thought you were perfect. Everyone did."

Blaine's smile faltered, his eyes distant as he caught Kurt's hand, pulling it gently so that their clasped hands rested against Kurt's hands, "I love you, so much. You saved me… You save me."

Blaine leant forwards and captured Kurt's lips with a sigh, as the taller boy looped his arms to rest on his boyfriend's shoulder. They parted, and Kurt leant his cheek against Blaine, letting out a breath and a whisper, "You take my breath away." He pulled back, his eyes searching Blaine's, "And not just now, but tonight on that stage, since yesterday, coping with everything. I'm so proud to be with you."

"I hope so." Blaine's voice cracked and caught, and Kurt felt his breath catch in return, "I want you to be." Heavy emotion threaded his voice, not quite released.

Kurt bit his lip, tentative, unsure, "Do you?"

Blaine blinked, not even for a moment taking the question for the more innocent meaning. He blinked again, and was really sure, "I do. I can't… I was… I think we were ready, before. And I can't stop thinking about how close I came to it nearly not being you. About what Sebastian nearly stole. And I can't stand that. I'm not rushing it, and I won't push it if you don't want to, but I can't imagine it not being you, with you, all of you."

Kurt searched Blaine's eyes, completely, entirely, thinking about what he had yelled when he had thought Blaine had just been drunk, thinking about the jealousy that had sung within him the first time he had seen Sebastian, thinking about the love he felt, every day, every moment he was with Blaine. "Did you want to go back to yours?"

Blaine cocked his head, a nervous, honest smile gracing his young face, "I think I do."

They shared each breath; they shared each grazing of fingertips, each rhythm of hearts. Kurt kissed away every bruise, every mark, until it was all Kurt and Blaine, just them, only them.

Their eyes never broke contact, even when breaths stuttered, heat flushed and nerves sang.

Blaine loves Kurt.

Kurt loves Blaine.

And it was perfect. Because it was them. Only them.


Author Notes: What did you think? I was very unsure about the ending, but I hope I did everything justice and you liked it! Feedback will be forever loved :)