Kurt tucked the blanket around Burt's shoulders, looking at him with weary, watery eyes he didn't want him to see when he was awake. He swallowed hard, throat sore from keeping the lump there and tears from his eyes. He took a slow breath, his stomach still twisted in impossible knots.

He clicked off the T.V., looking into the kitchen to see Blaine busily doing dishes. His heart twisted harder than his stomach, thinking of how magical this was supposed to be, what it could have been if not for…

He shook his head, emotions starting to well with his fatigue, hands shaking.

"Kurt?" He still sounded so concerned, so genuine and…

Fuck you, he thought viciously, pained. He forced a smile at him.

"I'm alright," he said softly, stepping away from his father so as not to wake him. He set to putting the drying dishes away, not looking at Blaine, his whole body aching horribly.

"Kurt," he repeated, gently holding his arm and turning him. He jerked away, more out of reflex than anything, hating himself for making that sweet face look so wounded, despite how strong his voice sounded when he spoke. "I know you too well to know you're not okay. You don't have to pretend you…" He chewed his lip. "You said I was still your best friend. So that means you can tell me, right?"

"I'm sorry," he said, the tears finding him now. "I just…" He took a breath. "Can we talk about this in my room? I don't wanna wake Dad up. He needs to rest."

Blaine followed him to his room, heart thudding painfully, so afraid. Don't make me lose you. I can't lose you. I love you. I love you more than air, more than anything else, don't you see? Forgive me, Kurt…Please.

The older boy faced away from him when they reached his room, fists clenched at his sides. "Kurt?" He turned, facing those big doe eyes pleading for an answer, for something, looking so small, wanton and desperate.

He pounced.

Teeth, tongues and lips clashed and clacked together in Kurt's fervor, ripping the cardigan from his body as well as his shirt in seconds. He tangled fingers in his gelled locks, tugging it from its style without care. He tore off his own shirt, working through layers and still utterly attacking Blaine's mouth. Tears prickled at the corners of the tenor's eyes but it didn't matter, he didn't care. He clawed and scraped at his exposed skin, barely hearing the soft moans and whimpers jumping from his lips. Kurt bit and sucked at his neck, marking him as his once more.

"He can't have you. Fuck that cocksucking motherfucker, he can't have you," Kurt snarled breathily, not meaning to speak it aloud, not that Blaine heard much. He trembled in Kurt's hands, pliable and compliant as ever.

"K-Kurt-!" Was all he managed, shoved onto the bed, left bare against the sheets before he could blink. Kurt was still shrugging and zipping out of clothes, lapping, sucking and biting at Blaine's torso. He sucked his nipples, scratching his skin, pinking it more than his swollen lips and aching scalp.

And Blaine took every second of it. He allowed the treatment, welcomed it even, taking any and all attention Kurt was willing to give him. His abused lips were crushed again, rough fingers working him open, lips now on the inside of his thigh, biting hard and making his cry out. A hand slapped over his mouth, Kurt's dark eyes demanding. "Shh," he hissed. "Don't wanna wake up Dad, remember?" He nodded, moaning helplessly into his hand, eyes falling shut, clenching. Kurt kept his hand there, his free fingers still toying with him roughly. Blaine whimpered again, grunting when Kurt shoved inside of him. Tears fell that he didn't see; Blaine's entire body trembled.

"Shh," he whispered. Kurt rolled him over, driving into him, soft grunts and moans falling from his lips. Blaine leaned back into his body, still wanting to be near him. Kurt was lost in him, kissing and sucking on the back of his neck, listening to him moan into the pillow, grinding against him.

"Kurt…" Blaine groaned again, leaning into him.

They were tensed, muscles taught, sweat slicking their skin, edging closer and closer. Kurt was in his element, fitting around Blaine's body like he'd never left it, encircling his waist with his arm, cheek resting against his. Blaine gasped and rocked back into him, head falling back onto Kurt's shoulder, allowing his mouth to be pillaged again, moaning softly into his mouth. It was fast, dirty, messy and unplanned. It was Kurt taking out his frustrations on Blaine's body. The anger he still had with him for cheating, the helplessness he felt about his father's cancer, and the hatred of himself for not taking responsibility for his own issues in their relationship.

Blaine whimpered when Kurt's hand wrapped around him, pumping him rapidly, rough and commanding. "Cum," Kurt snarled. "Cum, Blaine."

He spilled over Kurt's hand almost immediately, obeying. Skin slapped together, too gone to care, and Kurt sat up, dragging his nails down his back, watching him tremble, entire body like an exposed nerve. And still he thrust into him, nearing his own release. Blaine was clenching against him out of reflex, gasping for air, shuddering and choking out his name.

Kurt gave a short, breathy grunt, breath shaking, slowly riding through his orgasm.

There was a beat before he pulled out, making Blaine whimper again. He got up, snatching a towel from the nearby hamper and cleaned them off, finally coming out of his haze, finally seeing Blaine.

His arms were almost tucked underneath him, folded so his hands were by his shoulders, breathing slowly. His hair was tugged and yanked from the layers of gel, limp from sweat. His back was covered in claw marks that ran too deep to just be playful or heat of the moment. He looked too naked, too exposed in his surroundings, already dwarfed by the bed. He was so small, fragile already, and Kurt had…

Blaine sat up, turning so he could see him, a questioning in his eyes. He didn't look hurt, or beaten. If anything he looked grateful, relieved. His lips were swollen and scratched from Kurt's teeth, his chest in the same condition as his back, hips pink from his vice of a grip on them. He'd never felt more terrible for touching him in his life.

"Blaine," he forced, pained. He sat beside him, just looking at him. "Blaine, I…I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he nodded, assuring him. "I'm okay." He shook his head.

"No, you're not, look at you. Look what I did to you! I used you."

"So?" He said, shame in his gaze. "Kurt, after what I-"

"Stop," he choked, tears making his voice tight. "Stop it, now. You've apologized, you've atoned, you've done everything you can to make me forgive you."

"But you don't," he said, pain finally finding him. "You don't and it kills me. It kills me to see you in pain, to see you so upset by what happened to your father and I can't comfort you like I want to. Like I know you need to. So…so that…if that helped then I'm happy it happened, Kurt. If you feel better then it's okay." Kurt shook his head.

"It isn't." He glanced at the discarded sweater on the ground, buttons strained or popped off. "I'm so sorry. That was not the way to…I shouldn't have been so rough with you." Blaine looked at him, chest aching. "And…and you're not the only one who needs to apologize." He took his hands, looking into his eyes, so hurt. "I might as well have abandoned you. I left you in Lima all and I know better. You need attention, you need to be told every day how much you are loved and how much I need you. I know that and I didn't…"

"That's no excuse for going to-"

"I know. But it didn't help things, now did it?" He said gently. "And then today…today was supposed to be about us fixing things, talking and getting it right again but, but my dad and, and my head just wasn't in the right place."

"So what do you wanna do?" He asked softly, looking so vulnerable and afraid.

"Blaine, you're everything to me. You always have been and right now…" He swallowed, taking a breath. "You broke my heart, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and right here, right now, I just want you to hold me."

Blaine immediately wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tight and close. His breath stuttered when Kurt kissed him, moving so they were lying down, nuzzled close together. "I-I missed you," Blaine chanced, pleading.

"I missed you too. And I love you," he whispered, foreheads pressed together. "I want to forget everything that's torn us apart. I just want to be you and me again. Even if it's just for tonight."

"It doesn't have to be," he offered, still so quiet.

"Baby steps," he nodded.

"Okay. Whatever you want."

Kurt gingerly reached up, touching Blaine's cheek. "I'm still proud of you."

Tears instantly sprang to his eyes, a smile finding his cheeks. "You are?"

"Of course I am," he breathed, kissing his forehead. "How could I not be?"

They stayed where they were for the remainder of the night, holding and looking at each other. Blaine relished the feel of Kurt's skin, his body so close. He could smell his lotion and his shampoo again, watch him blink and memorize every color in his eyes. Kurt stroked his face and his hair, just wanting to be near him.

"Blaine?" He mumbled, half asleep.

"Mm?" He said, peeking his eye open.

"I forgive you."

Blaine smiled, heart clenching again. "Thank you."

They fell asleep in each other's arms, just like before. Still in love.