I own nothing. I started writing this really randomly because I'm kind of aching all over after this decorating thing I did, but yeah. It got more angsty than I planned. Thanks to Denise (hearteyesanderson) and Rebecca (m-arvel) for their encouragement.

Tonight Don't Leave Me Alone.

Blaine groans as he walks to his car, aware of the steady buzz of his phone against his hip where it is sitting in the pocket of his pants. It's a cold, winter's day, with a brisk, cutting wind sweeping through the frosty air and forcing Blaine's eyes half-closed, shielding them. The buzzing comes to a stop and Blaine groans again as he reaches for the handle of his car door. He pulls it open and throws his bag inside, then bends to climb in. A cry escapes his lips as the dull, almost-sickening pain strikes him across his stomach. He has to stop for a moment, to take a few breaths, but then the wind picks up and he can feel the light spit of rain starting up and so, he bends again, eyes shutting as the pain strikes again, and climbs inside, shutting the door behind him.

Once safely inside his car, Blaine shudders and pulls his phone from his pocket. The screen tells him that he has three missed calls, all from Kurt. Through the pain comes a feeling of warmth. He knows Kurt worries when he meets with his old friends for boxing. Blaine hits the 'call' button and the quiet ringing sounds fill his ear. It's after only two rings that the sounds stop and Kurt's voice is on the other end.

"Blaine," he says softly. "I called."

"I know," Blaine croaks out. "I got out a little late."

It's like Kurt senses something is wrong.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," Blaine insists. "I'm fine. I'm just going to head home."

"Was he big?"

Blaine sighs. "Not that big," he mutters.

"Bigger than you, though," Kurt retorts.

Blaine actually smiles then. "Bigger than me," he confirms. "I'm fine, Kurt. I just need to get home and wallow in the misery of my defeat."

Kurt doesn't laugh. "Where are you hurt?"

"My ribs," Blaine replies, knowing there's really no point in pretending any more. "My shoulders ache a little. And my back."

"Blaine," Kurt says, cautiously.

It's nice to have someone care about him, someone that loves him and wants him to be okay, but Blaine doesn't want to worry Kurt.

"It's just some bruising," Blaine informs his boyfriend. "It's just because I was a little out of practice. I've had worse."

Kurt only hums. Blaine isn't lying. He's been hurt worse in the past. He knows that Kurt knows just what he means, but neither of them say it out loud.

"Is anyone at home for you?" Kurt enquires then.

Blaine reaches out and turns the heat up. It's cold, suddenly.

"No," is all he says in reply.

Kurt understands, he gets it. He doesn't push the matter, or tell Blaine how mad that makes him, even though Blaine knows that it does.

"Can I come over?" Kurt asks.

"Kurt," Blaine says, carefully. "I'm not really up for anything—"

"Not that!" Kurt interjects. "I wasn't going to suggest anything like that. I am with you for more than your body, you know." There's a smile in his voice now and all of a sudden, it's not so cold any more.

"Oh," Blaine says, smiling, too. "I won't be much company," he tells Kurt. "I'll probably just go home and sleep."

I'm in a lot of pain, he adds silently.

Blaine isn't used to admitting it when it hurts. He doesn't do it any more, not when there's never any kind of caring reply or sympathy given to him in return. He knows that Kurt listens and cares and would rush to his side if he needed him, but he doesn't say anything, because that's just what he has become so accustomed to doing.

"I'll come over," Kurt insists. "It's okay if you sleep."

Blaine's heart is there, squeezing and obvious in his chest. It's something that Kurt does to him frequently.

"You don't have to," Blaine tells him, although he wants him to, he so wants him to.

"I'll be there," Kurt says, adamant. "Are you okay to drive? Do you need me to come get you?"

Wanted. He feels so wanted and it makes him feel miserable and thrilled all at once.

"I'll see you there," he tells Kurt. "You can let yourself in if you get there first," he finishes.

"Okay," Kurt says and Blaine can hear shuffling and then the slam of a door and he knows that Kurt has dropped everything for him. He doesn't know if he should feel guilty for that. "I'll see you soon," Kurt goes on.

"I love you." Blaine says it first, he usually does, because he's afraid that Kurt won't. He knows that if he tells Kurt he loves him that he'll say it back and it's not that he isn't aware of Kurt's love for him, it's just that sometimes, Kurt forgets that he needs to hear it so very often.

"I love you, too," Kurt answers and it still ignites a sort of fire inside of him. There's a pause. "You're sure you're okay?"

Blaine nods. "I'm okay," he tells Kurt. "I'm okay."

And knowing that Kurt is there for him, that he's coming for him, that he loves him, Blaine is telling the truth. He really is okay.

Kurt is a worrier when it comes to Blaine. While other see the bright, happy, carefree, enthusiastic, pretty boy with the permanent smile, Kurt knows what lies beneath. He's held Blaine in fits of tears, body shuddering, uncontrollable sobs escaping his body until he has nothing left to give. Kurt knows the Blaine with the big, sad eyes and the down turned, swollen lips and the careful touches and the soft, uncertain whispers in the dead of the night.

Blaine doesn't let anyone else see that side of him and it had taken time for him to let his guard down around Kurt. Blaine is afraid of people seeing his weakness and that's partially why he insists on attending these fight club sessions, despite having left Dalton so long ago. Kurt doesn't like the idea of Blaine getting hurt. He hates the thought of Blaine in pain and he can't help the almost stabbing sensation that seems to attack his heart every time he remembers the loud cry that Blaine had let out on taking the rock salt slushie in the face.

Now, when Blaine is at these fight club meetings, or whatever the correct term for them is, Kurt worries. He tries not to, he knows Blaine is stronger than he looks, but he can't help it. And when the clock strikes eight, Kurt calls him to make sure he hasn't been hurt. Blaine always tries to insist that he's fine, but Kurt knows the difference between fine and fine. Right now, Blaine is not fine, he's not even fine. He's hurt and he won't admit it, not over the phone and not without persuasion and that's why Kurt needs to go to him. His parents aren't there for him and Kurt knows that Blaine needs people. He doesn't like to admit it, he thinks it's a weakness and he won't admit to having those, but Kurt knows and he hates that Blaine's parent don't.

Kurt turns onto Blaine's street and sees the empty driveway from the end of the road.

Blaine sees Kurt's car in his driveway from the end of the road. He smiles, throat tightening as his breath catches, trying to force back the pain that rises in almost all of his limbs. He pulls into his driveway, behind Kurt's car. Kurt's already inside, after using his spare key and Blaine wishes he could run inside to see him, but it hurts to move too quickly. He slowly unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the car, then gently climbs out. He stretches in the cool air and it makes his breath catch again, so he tip toes up the path and reaches for the door. It's open already and he goes inside.

Blaine opens his mouth to call out to Kurt, but he ends up clutching his ribs. Fortunately, Kurt hears the door closing.

"Blaine?" he shouts from a distance. "I hope that's you." Blaine can hear the chuckle in his voice. "I'm upstairs."

Blaine makes his way to the stairs and it looks like a long way up. He grips the banister and pulls himself up, despite the hardship and the pain when he breathes and eventually makes it to the top. Kurt's there, then, eyes curious and then caring.

"Blaine," he says, then rushes to his side and helps him the rest of the way. "Are you sure it's just bruising?"

Blaine nods. "I'm sure," he coughs.

Kurt looks unconvinced, but lets out a breath and says, "Come on. I ran you a bath."

Blaine smiles. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," he tells him. "Come on."

Blaine allows Kurt pull him slowly inside the bathroom where the smell of bubble bath is strong and appealing. Kurt pushes his sleeves up and then takes it upon himself to undress Blaine, which is something he's absolutely done before, numerous times in fact. Blaine doesn't say anything, just lets Kurt pull his arms and legs this way and that and when he tugs his shirt off over his head, Kurt lets out a tiny gasp. Blaine looks down and sees the unattractive bruising around his ribs.

"Oh," is all Blaine finds he can say.

"I thought you called it friendly spa-ing," Kurt says, eyebrows furrowing.

"Sparring," Blaine corrects. "And it was. Really."

"This doesn't look very friendly to me, Blaine."

Blaine shrugs a shoulder and finds that it's painful. "I underestimated him."

Kurt rolls his eyes and finishes undressing his boyfriend. Moments later, Blaine is naked and shivering and Kurt is studying him, looking for more battle scars, he supposes.

"Kurt," he says finally.

Kurt looks up and his eyes are bluer than ever. "Sorry," he says. "I'll help you get in."

Blaine nods and Kurt reaches out and clutches his arms, then steers him towards the bath tub. Blaine lifts a leg and steps inside, the water hot and shocking to his cold skin. Kurt whispers for him to be careful and eases him the rest of the way in, then leaves the room and comes back with a chair. He places it down next to the tub and gives Blaine a once over.

"I'm okay," Blaine insists.

Kurt doesn't say anything.

"I know you hate that I do this," Blaine goes on.

"I don't," Kurt apprises him. "I guess I just can't help wondering if you think it's something you deserve."

Blaine looks up at him, not following, so Kurt goes on.

"You haven't done anything wrong," he tells Blaine. "I know that part of it is a self-defence thing and I think that's good, healthy, but if the other part is about punishing yourself for the things you think make you weak, or-or stupid, or a coward,"—he says it out loud, because he knows that Blaine regrets having ran all those years ago—"then I just don't think you should do it any more."

Blaine looks down at the bubbles as they glisten and quiver in his lap.

"Is that it?" Kurt asks.

Blaine shrugs. He doesn't know.

"Okay," Kurt says. A few heartbeats of silence pass and then Kurt speaks again, "Here. I'll wash your hair."

Blaine closes his eyes and listens to Kurt's soft humming as he massages the gel right our of his hair, instructing that he tilt his head back every now and then. When he's done, Blaine lies there, eyes still closed and he doesn't open them until he feels the warm kiss pressing against his forehead. He opens his eyes slowly and catches Kurt leaning back in his chair.

"I love you," Kurt tells him and it's exactly what Blaine needs to hear.

"I love you, too," Blaine promises. "And I'm sorry."

He's not sure what he's apologising for, but he feels he needs to say it anyway.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Kurt tells him, reaching for his hand under the water. He loops their fingers together and squeezes. "Can I stay over?"

"Always," Blaine says instantly.

Kurt beams at him and then stands up. "Okay," he says. "I bet the water's getting cold. Up and I'll help you get dried."

"Thanks, mom," Blaine jokes and they both laugh and then they don't, because they're both thinking the same thing: that Blaine's mom's never done anything like this for him.

Blaine climbs out onto the mat and Kurt uses a towel to get him dry, blushing when he has to move the towel down past Blaine's hips. Finally, he's done and he gets Blaine his pyjamas and helps him dress. He drains the tub and takes Blaine's hand, then brings him to his bedroom and helps him climb under the covers.

"Hungry?" Kurt asks, touching a hand to Blaine's cheek.

"A little," Blaine admits.

"I'll go see what you have in the kitchen," he says, grabbing the tv remote and handing it to Blaine. "Keep yourself entertained and I'll be right back."

Blaine smiles and takes it. He watches as Kurt leaves the room and then he switches the tv on, but doesn't look at the screen. Instead, he lies back against the pillows and thinks about how lucky he is to have someone who loves him no matter what. He isn't afraid to let Kurt see him when he's weak and wanting, not any more.

Blaine shifts to get comfortable and is reminded of just how much his body aches, of how tired and worn out he is. He closes his eyes, just for a minute, and waits for Kurt to come back.

Kurt comes back a few minutes later, holding a tray of tomato soup and some bread rolls.

"I know you prefer vegetable," he says, coming into the room, eyes on the tray, careful not to spill a drop, "but this is all you guys have and..."

Kurt trails off when he see him, curled into himself under the covers, eyes closed, lips parted slightly. He looks much younger lying there, much more vulnerable and peaceful than he looks when he's awake. Kurt wants to let him sleep, but he knows from experience that Blaine probably hasn't eaten dinner yet. He knows that his parents leave him money to get a pizza, or whatever he wants really, but Blaine doesn't sometimes. He forgets.

Kurt places the tray down on the sidetable and sits down carefully on the bed.

"Hey," he whispers, reaching out to stroke the mass of curls at the side of his boyfriend's head. "Sweetie, you need to eat something."

Blaine mumbles and his eyes open slightly. "Kurt," he whispers.

"I brought you some soup," he tells Blaine. "Eat first and you can sleep afterwards, okay?"

Blaine nods and tries to push himself up, but he halts, wincing, face twisting. Kurt reaches out and holds him steady. Blaine nods again and moves carefully until his in a seated position. Kurt reaches around and positions the pillows behind him so that he's comfortable, then he grabs the bowl and lifts the spoon to Blaine's lips.

"You're feeding me?" Blaine asks, amusement in his voice and on his face.

"You're complaining?"

"Never," Blaine says with a giggle and then opens his mouth to accept the spoonful of soup.

Kurt keeps spooning it to his lips until he's had enough and then he returns to the kitchen to clean the tray off. He goes back upstairs when he's done and Blaine is still awake, eyes on the tv screen.

"Anything interesting?" Kurt asks, sitting down.

"There is now," Blaine tells him, placing a hand over Kurt's.

Kurt rolls his eyes fondly and Blaine switches the tv off.

"Still sleeping over?" he asks.

Kurt nods. "I told my dad you're hurt."

"I'm n—"

"He said you shouldn't be alone," Kurt cuts him off. "So, he said I could stay over."

Blaine doesn't protest this time, but he doesn't meet Kurt's eyes.

"Can I borrow some pyjamas?" Kurt asks.

Blaine nods. "You know where to find them."

Kurt nods and watches him for a few seconds more. He looks tired and drained and contemplative and most of all, troubled. Kurt gets to his feet and goes to change into a pair of Blaine's pyjamas. The pants are too short and the top keeps slipping off one shoulder, but he doesn't mind. He goes back to the bed and Blaine hasn't moved. He's still sitting there, eyes wide, a frown on his lips.

"I'll help you lay back," Kurt says and eases him down in the bed.

Kurt climbs in next to him and turns on his side to look at him.

"What's troubling you?" he asks.

Blaine raises his eyes to Kurt's then and the honey colour seems to run as fast as the thoughts in his mind.

"Can you hold me?" is what Blaine says in reply.

Kurt doesn't ask questions, he simply moves forward and slips his arms around his boyfriend's body and breathes in his scent. Blaine seems to relax against him, a heavy sigh leaving his body.

"Am I hurting you?" Kurt asks, remembering the angry bruising.

"You're the only one who doesn't," Blaine says.

"I'm sorry," Kurt tells him. "I wish I could make it go away."

Neither one of them is sure if Kurt means the bruising or the hurt.

"This is nice," Blaine says, after a minute.

Kurt agrees. They don't get to sleep this close very often. Kurt's dad doesn't let him stay over when Blaine's alone and when Blaine stays over, the sofa is pulled out in Kurt's room and the door is left open. Sometimes, during the day, they get a few hours together, but those are usually spent doing more intimate things.

Kurt's not sure that's true, though. Being this close to Blaine, getting to drift off next to him, seems like one of the most intimate things they can do. Blaine relaxes in his arms and he feels like he's holding him together, like he's helping him get rid of the stress and the build up of hurt that he's been suppressing all day, all week even.

"I love you," Kurt tells him and Blaine hugs him tighter, like he's afraid that if he lets go, Kurt will drift away, so far out of his reach that he won't be able to catch him again. "I'm not going anywhere," Kurt assures him.

Blaine nods and Kurt kisses his lips once.

"I just want to be close to you," Blaine exhales into Kurt's ear.

Kurt doesn't know how much closer they can get, but he says, "Anything you want," anyway.

He feels Blaine's fingers then, unbuttoning the pyjamas he's wearing. He doesn't say anything, simply lets him as they watch each other. Finally, Blaine pushes the top away from Kurt's body and Kurt shrugs it the rest of the way off. He understand now and he moves to help Blaine take his off, too. Soon, both of their top halves are naked and Kurt opens his arms for Blaine to slide up closer. Blaine takes the invitation and he presses their bodies together, but presses the palm of his hand over Kurt's heart. Kurt follows suit and does the same to Blaine and they just lie there in silence, feeling one another's heart beating against their hands.

Blaine is the first to smile and it makes Kurt want to cry. He hates that Blaine feels so miserable, hates that he can't make it go away permanently. He knows that he can help Blaine for a little while, but that as soon as he's gone it'll all gradually come flooding back and he wishes he could do something about that. Until he figures that out, however, all he can do it love him.

"I adore you," he tells Blaine and Blaine shuts his eyes tight, but he's still smiling. He knows exactly what Blaine needs to hear and he means it, too. "I love you and I promise you're worth a billion times more than you think you're worth."

Blaine doesn't say anything, just buries his face in Kurt's neck and breathes.

"You believe me, don't you?" Kurt asks. "Because I'm always right. You know that."

Blaine chuckles against his body. "I know," he says in a hushed tone.

"Good," Kurt says, kissing his damp, silky curls. "Now get some sleep," he instructs. "I'll bring you breakfast in the morning."

Blaine pulls back a little and beams at him. "Thank you," he whispers and they both know he doesn't just mean for the promise of breakfast in bed.

Kurt smiles at him and pulls him closer. They close their eyes and let slumber take them and in the morning, when the sun is bright and high in the bleak sky, they'll open their eyes, ready to face another day, not knowing just what it might bring them, but that doesn't matter, because whatever they may have to face, they'll face it together.

Blaine sleeps peacefully that night, more peacefully than he has slept in a long time and when the sun slips through his blinds the following morning, he doesn't roll over and cover his head, he smiles and kisses the shoulder of the pale arm wrapped around his waist, because the boy lying next to him in his bed is brighter than any sun and brings him more sunshine and happiness than anything else ever could.