Kurt felt his heart beating out his chest as he ran from the gym to his Navigator, breath harshly exiting his nose as his feet pounded down the front stairs of McKinley High School.

He'd thought he was finally standing up against his harassment.

He'd thought he was doing the right thing.

But now tears stained his cheeks and he could barely open his car door his hands were shaking with such shock and terror.

He'd kissed him. Karofsky had kissed him.

The boy who had made it clear he hated everything Kurt was and wanted him to suffer for simply being himself. That boy had shoved him hard against the gym lockers and put his dirty, slobbery, too forceful too much – no, get off - mouth on Kurt's.

A wrecked sob tore through Kurt's chest, and as he settled into the driver's seat and started the engine of his Navigator his mind raced, and he realized he couldn't go home, not like this. His dad had always been able to tell when he was upset and something told Kurt he wouldn't be able to hide anything tonight. And that was one decision he'd already made. He couldn't tell anybody about this. The physical bullying, the name calling, maybe, but this?

Kurt was in over his head. There was only one person who could help, and Kurt had sworn he'd never talk to him again. But he also knew that he had no-one else to turn to.

So, instead of taking the Right-hand turn towards his home in the suburbs, he went in the opposite direction, toward the down town inner city apartment blocks in which Blaine Anderson lived.

Kurt hoped against hope that this was the right choice. Because God knows, he hadn't been making those today.


Smoke billowed from the purple bong as Puck coughed loudly, waving the thing around like he was a neanderthal with a club,

Blaine smirked and grabbed it before Puck could break anything.

Ding Dong

"Expecting someone?"

Blaine shook his head, running his hand through his thick black hair and making to stand up.

"Who is it?" Blaine asked through the heavy wooden door as he removed the towel from under the jam

"It- It's me. Kurt. Can you open the door, please?"

Blaine's heart twinged at the sound of that voice. That voice. The last time he'd heard it it had told him to more or less shove off for good, and he certainly hadn't been expecting to hear it again. He quickly made to open the door, and there standing before him was Kurt.

Gorgeous, always-put-together Kurt, in his black skinny jeans and designer shirt and blazer. Kurt with tear stained cheeks and a look of hurt and resignation in his blue eyes.

"Kurt? What are you doing here?" Blaine shot at him in a hushed voice, "what's wrong?"

"Can I come in? Please? I- I didn't know where else to-"

"Yeah, yeah of course come in, shit." Blaine moved back from the door and Kurt made his way inside, nose wrinkling at the potent smell.

"S-sorry. I wasn't expecting. Um. You. Wasn't expecting..." Blaine clumsily explained, and Kurt just turned on him with a look that pretty much told him his explanation was useless. Kurt knew all about Blaine's lifestyle, and there was really no use in acting like he was something else.

"Bro can I have the last - oh. Hey, Kurt." Puck came out from the kitchen with a bag of Cheetos in one hand, "what are you doing here?"

"Kurt just wanted to talk, Puck, why don't you head home-"

"No, really it's okay," Kurt interrupted, Blaine shot him a look,

"- head home and I'll see you later."

"No worries, laters Kurt," Puck grinned and grabbed his jacket before heading toward the door, "and I'm taking the Cheetos!" he yelled as he ran out the door.


Kurt stood awkwardly in the living room, if you could call a manky couch and old television a "living room", of Blaine's apartment, which smelled musky and kind of like three day old pizza. Blaine stood about two feet away from him, in his usual leather and denim, looking at him with both suspicion and concern. Kurt never really did know how to deal with it when Blaine looked at him like that. Like he mattered.

"Do ... Do you want to sit? Do you wanna drink? Um."

"No, no, I don't need anything, I just.." Kurt choked a little. He didn't quite know how to word it, now he was here. So he sat, and Blaine followed him, putting his arm around the back of couch,

"I just need someone to talk to. And I didn't know where else to go. No-one ... no-one else would get it. Or maybe they wouldn't even believe me. I don't know, I just, Blaine," it was then his voice started to shake,

"Hey- hey. Of course you can tell me anything," Blaine shuffled closer to him, brought his arm down a little firmer toward Kurt's shoulders, "Anything."

"He kissed me." Kurt breathed out,

"Wh-what? Who?"

"Karofsky. I - I tried to stand up to him, he's been giving me hell lately, and I just snapped, Blaine. So, after school when he shoved me into the lockers for the fifth time today, I followed him, and called him out, and-and he..." Oh God. He didn't want to cry in front of Blaine. Stupid, stupid. Not now. "...he shoved me against the locker and k-kissed me and I ran and now I don't know what to do. Blaine. What - what do I do?"

He'd never felt so exposed. So vulnerable.

Blaine looked murderous. He breathed out through his nose, and ran his hand up and down Kurt's back, in what he supposed was a soothing notion, but Kurt could feel the calculation behind it, and knew Blaine was only ever quiet like this when he was having his dangerous thoughts. The ones that usually made Kurt mad at him.

"You don't need to do anything, Kurt. Karofsky, is that- that's a last name?" Blaine questioned, and Kurt knew this had been a mistake. He stood up abruptly, Blaine's hand falling to his side

"God you - can't you just be here for me? I didn't come here for revenge, or to get him beat up, I just- I just wanted-"

"What, you expect me to believe that? Kurt, you know who I am. You know what I do. You think I'm just going to let this guy get away with hurting you? Sorry, no."

"Yes! He hurt me! He. Hurt. Me. And instead of being even halfway compassionate you're planning on doing something that will probably only make it worse and for once in your life could you just - could you just listen, without thinking about what to do next. Please, Blaine."

Blaine gulped down his anger, and looked at Kurt standing there, pleading with him,

"... Okay. Okay. Sit down, it's okay."

A sob broke through the tension in the room and Kurt fell onto the couch into Blaine's arms, who quickly pulled him into a hug, "shhh, shh, it's okay baby. It'll be okay. I'm here. I'm here."

"Thank you," Kurt sniffed, and Blaine sighed, because he knew he would never be able to deny this beautiful, strong, so, so endearing boy anything.