Prompt #916: Kurt cheats on Blaine. Several times. Over and over. And Blaine only stays because he figures no one else would ever love him and he rationalizes that sharing Kurt and being miserable is better than being alone.
Prompt #801: Blaine walks in on Kurt and Elliot having sex (based off the [NSFW] art here i-wanna-be-a-klaine-ship-ranger.tumblr.com/post/83871140957/i-bet-hes-your-friend)
Rating: T
Word Count: 2128
Takes place after season 5.
Sometimes Blaine hated that he walked quietly. Years of his father working graveyard and needing to sleep during the day had instilled silence into Blaine’s being. It was times like this that he wished his footsteps were heavier.
He stood outside the door to the loft, a bouquet of roses in hand. It was late, and Blaine was supposed to have a shift at the 24 hour cafe, but he convinced a coworker to take his shift for the night. He hadn’t really seen Kurt in a few days. They had both been busy with school and work and Blaine just wanted to spend some time with his fiance, especially now that they had the loft to themselves.
Blaine unlocked the door. He only opened it enough for him to squeeze through, wincing as the door slid with a little squeak. He slipped through, but froze immediately. The apartment was dark, but Blaine didn’t need light to see what was happening in front of him.
There, on the couch, was Kurt, and Elliot was with him, and they were kissing. No, they were doing more than just kissing. Both of them were naked, and Blaine had to look away as Kurt ran his hands over Elliot’s body. One of them moaned loudly, and Blaine’s fingers tightened uselessly around the bouquet he was holding. His other hand came up to cover his mouth, and muffle the sob that threatened to escape. Even now, witnessing his fiance cheat on him with their friend, Blaine still couldn’t bring himself to make noise. Tears welled up in his eyes, and his feet started silently carrying him backwards. He slipped back through the door, and closed it carefully behind him.
It was only once he reached the street that he allowed himself to start sobbing. Blaine dumped the flowers in the closest trashcan and just started running.
* * * * *
Blaine knew he should be angry, but mostly he just felt numb. He wasn’t good enough for Kurt. He knew he had been distant the last few days, but he’d thought everything would be okay once he got that writing assignment submitted and had more time to spare. And he knew that he weighed a little more than he should, but he and Kurt had been working on that together. And that whole incident with June Dolloway hadn’t really helped, but he’d thought they had worked past that. Apparently Kurt needed more than that though.
Well, if Kurt needed more, than Blaine would just have to be more. He’d have to be a better fiance.
Besides, it was only the once, right?
* * * * *
It turned out it wasn’t just the once. Blaine returned to the loft early in the morning, when he was supposed to be off work. Blaine never mentioned what he had seen, and Kurt never said anything either, and for a while, things seemed good.
Blaine put a lot of effort in to trying to be his best for Kurt. He spent more time at the gym working out, he did everything that Kurt asked him to, and he usually agreed with Kurt’s decisions to avoid unnecessary arguments. But it still wasn’t enough.
School ended, and Kurt started spending more time at Vogue.com. That was the start of the late night meetings. Or at least Kurt said they were late night meetings. And Blaine believed him at first, but then coming home late once a week turned into three and four times a week. And then he started missing their date nights for “fashion emergencies”. And that was when Blaine knew that Kurt was cheating again.
Blaine’s suspicions were confirmed when he snooped through Kurt’s phone. Blaine knew that he shouldn’t, he wanted to be a good fiance, and good fiances don’t go through their partner’s phones, but Blaine needed to know.
He took the chance when Kurt was in the shower one morning. He didn’t have to look very hard, as Kurt’s phone buzzed with a new message as he picked it up.
Jason: Hey sexy, are we still meeting up for drinks tonight? <3 (07:23am)
Blaine swallowed past the lump in his throat, and put Kurt’s phone back on the nightstand, not bothering to look for other messages from this Jason. He didn’t really need to, he’d already seen enough to know the truth.
Blaine busied himself making breakfast when Kurt got out of the shower. He needed a moment to compose himself before facing Kurt.
“Hey baby,” Kurt said as he came up behind Blaine, kissing him on the cheek. “Do you have a shift at the cafe today?”
Blaine nodded. “Yeah, until 4.”
“I have another meeting tonight, so I probably won’t be home until late.”
“Oh.” Blaine’s face fell in disappointment. “You’re just an intern though. Do you really have to go to all of the meetings?”
“This line is really important. Besides, going to the meetings shows dedication, and maybe soon I won’t be “just an intern”,” Kurt said a little harshly.
“I know, I’m sorry, it’s just- we haven’t had a date night, or even just dinner together in like a month.” Blaine looked down at the floor. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” Kurt put his hand on Blaine’s chin and tilted it up to look him in the eyes. “This weekend we’ll make reservations at a fancy restaurant and have a proper date night, okay? I promise.” Kurt sealed the promise with a kiss.
Blaine knew the chances of them actually going out on a date were very slim. It wouldn’t be the first time Kurt had cancelled their plans, but Blaine knew better than to argue. Instead, he let Kurt kiss him, and he kissed back until they were making out against the kitchen counter.
Kurt pulled back after a few moments with a small smile. “I think the eggs are burning.”
“Oh shit.” Blaine spun around and quickly removed the scrambled eggs from the stove. They weren’t burnt, just well cooked, but that didn’t stop Kurt from laughing into Blaine’s shoulder.
It was moments like this that made Blaine think maybe he was just imagining everything.
* * * * *
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Don’t wait up.”
No, Blaine was definitely not imagining this.
* * * * *
Kurt slipped quietly into the apartment, hoping to surprise Blaine. He’d felt guilty after their conversation at breakfast, and had cancelled on Jason.
Kurt frowned, there were voices coming from behind the curtain to their bedroom. One was Blaine’s, and the other Kurt recognized as Blaine’s coworker, Elizabeth? Blaine must have invited her over for some company instead of spending the evening alone.
“That is not a real word, you can’t play that.”
“Yes, it is,” Blaine insisted. “I had this argument with Kurt once, so we looked it up in the official Scrabble dictionary. It’s a word, and it’s worth 36 points on that triple letter score.”
Kurt smiled. Blaine always got so competitive when it came to board games.
“Where is Kurt anyways? I thought you guys would be using every chance you got to exploit this empty apartment and have tons of sex.”
Kurt was going to enter the bedroom and announce his presence, but Blaine’s voice stopped him.
“He’s at a work meeting.” Blaine’s tone was flat and empty.
“Again? I thought you said he had a meeting last night.”
“He has them a few times a week, his job is really important.”
“What about you though? You’re important too,” Elizabeth said softly.
There was a long pause. “Blaine?” she prompted.
“He’s not at work. I know he’s cheating on me.” Blaine sounded so small.
Oh God, Blaine knew. Kurt felt like being sick. He knew, and he’d never said anything.
“It’s not the first time either.” Blaine was openly crying now. “I walked in on him and our friend Elliot about three months ago. I don’t think they saw me, and I never said anything.”
“Blaine, you should leave him! You don’t deserve this!”
Kurt was kind of inclined to agree with her. Blaine did deserve better, and Kurt hated himself for doing this to him. He’d felt that they’d gotten complacent and boring, and he missed the thrill of being chased, of trying something new. Elliot had been a terrible mistake, but Kurt couldn’t deny that it fulfilled something in him he didn’t realize had been missing.
“I thought about it. I thought about leaving him, but I know he still loves me, and I tried so hard to be good enough for him, so he wouldn’t need to go to someone else, but it wasn’t enough, I should have done more. And if I’m not good enough for Kurt, I’m not going to be good enough for anyone else either. And I hate it so much, but I know he loves me, and I love him, and I’d rather share Kurt than lose him completely and be alone. I just wish that I was good enough for him, and then I wouldn’t have to share him.”
Blaine sounded so small and broken, and Kurt hated that he was the cause. He did love Blaine, he loved Blaine so much it hurt sometimes. Oh God, he’d screwed up. He needed to fix this.
Kurt didn’t even realize that he’d started crying until the curtain was pulled back and he was faced with Blaine. There was a long stretch of silence, and all Kurt could hear were his ragged breaths as he tried not to sob.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Kurt managed to croak out. Blaine’s face crumpled when he realized that Kurt had heard everything.
“I’m gonna go.” Elizabeth appeared beside Blaine, shrugging on a jacket. She smiled sadly. “I’ll see you at work, okay?”
Blaine nodded. He waited until she had closed the door behind her before turning away from Kurt and going back into the bedroom. Kurt followed to find him putting away the Scrabble tiles.
He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do to make this better.
When Blaine was finished cleaning, he sat down on the edge of the bed, his back stiff, and resolutely not looking at Kurt. Kurt sat down next to him, the space between them feeling like an ocean.
“Blaine, I’m so sorry. I’ve been a terrible person, and an even worse fiance, and your friend is right, you deserve better. I understand if you can’t forgive me”
Tentatively, Kurt reached out his hand and put it on Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine didn’t flinch away, but he didn’t lean into the touch either like he usually did.
Blaine mumbled something to the floor, and Kurt frowned as he strained to hear. “What?”
“I don’t want better, I just want you,” he whispered, finally looking up at Kurt.
Kurt felt his heart shatter into millions of tiny shards. “I’m so sorry, I never want to hurt you like this again. Tell me how I can make this better”
“I just want to know why. What did they have that I couldn’t give you?”
Kurt remembered the insecurities Blaine had mentioned earlier, wanting to be good enough so Kurt would stay with him.
“You give me everything that I need Blaine, and I’m an idiot for not seeing it before. You’ve always been good enough for me. I just wish I could be the same for you.”
Kurt slipped off his engagement ring, and pressed it into Blaine’s palm. “I don’t think I deserve to wear this. Not until we’ve worked through this.”
“You still love me though, right?” Blaine’s eyes were wide with panic.
“Of course I still love you. I will always love you, Blaine.”
That was all it took for Blaine to throw his arms around Kurt and start sobbing into his shoulder. Kurt wrapped his arms around the crying man, and pulled him on to the bed so they were lying down. He bent his head to press tiny kisses to Blaine’s forehead, and held him until Blaine fell asleep from crying.
Kurt knew they still had a lot to talk about come morning. And he knew that they would have lots to work through in the coming months, maybe getting a therapist to help them across the schism that Kurt had created between them, and helping Blaine work through his insecurities. He just hoped that Blaine would forgive him, even if he could never forgive himself.
AN: I don't know how I feel about this. The ending feels weird to me, but whatever.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the characters. Title from the Sam Smith sing of the same name.
Prompt: Cooper accidentally tells Kurt about Blaine’s past suicide attempt after Sadie Hawkins that he had no idea about. Shocked and upset that his fiancé had kept such a big secret from him, he demands Blaine to tell him why he never told him before. Cue Blaine’s confession about secretly struggling with depression for years and sad backstory.
Warning for discussion of suicide and depression.
Kurt sighed. This friday night went entirely different than he had imagined it. Today was supposed to be his and Blaine's date night. They had planned to go see a movie and maybe hit up a gay bar afterwards. Instead Cooper had shown up out of the blue on their doorstep that afternoon to “surprise his little brother”. After now almost three hours of Cooper's continuous jabbering about shows he wanted to audition for Kurt was exhausted and hoped maybe turning on the tv would shut him up at least until dinner. Turned out Cooper was not at all interested in any news that weren't celebrity related.
“What do you mean “succeeded”. What are you talking about? What does any of this have to do with Blaine?” Cooper's face grew even paler than it had been a minute ago. “You...you don't know?”
“Know what, Cooper? Please tell me you're not saying what I think you're saying.” Kurt felt tears well up in his eyes, hearing Blaine obliviously clanging with pans in the background.
“I...I don't think I should...I thought you knew...I...”
“When?” Kurt whispered.
“After...after the dance... I...really shouldn't...” Kurt jumped up from the couch. “Blaine?!”
“I'll be outside...I'll come back in a few hours or so...” Cooper mumbled, but Kurt didn't even hear him anymore. Blaine set the bowl he was holding aside and came over. “Kurt? What is it?...Are you crying?” “Did you try to kill yourself?” He hadn't meant to blurt it out like that but now it happened anyway. Kurt saw the color drain from Blaine's face. “How...? Kurt, I...” “Your brother accidentally told me just now because he assumed, I would know something as important as this about my own fiance!” Kurt felt the anger rising inside him, but fear and sadness were even stronger right now. “Kurt...sit down, come on. Sit down.” Kurt saw how Blaine's hands were shaking as he led him back to the couch. Blaine set down next to him and took a deep breath. “Yes I...I did try to...to kill myself.” Kurt whimpered. Blaine sat there, withdrawn into himself, looking down at his own hands as he spoke. “After the Sadie Hawkins dance I...I wasn't in a very good place. I didn't transfer to Dalton immediately. The bullying only got worse and...I just couldn't take it anymore Kurt. I just wanted it to be over. I felt so empty and life...I didn't know what there was for me to live for. So...one night when my parents were out and Cooper was away at some party...I took a lot of pills and went to bed and hoped that I...that I wouldn't wake up again.” Kurt sniffed.
“What happened...?” His voice was barely a whisper.
“Cooper found me. He came home early because apparently the party sucked...he saw the empty pill container in the bathroom and...” Blaine closed his eyes for a second. “I remember waking up in the hospital to my family crying at my bedside and all I could think about was how much I didn't want to be there. Didn't want to be alive...I got diagnosed with depression shortly after.” Kurt blinked a few tears from his eyes. “But why did you never tell me? I mean...there were enough chances to bring it up, honey. I don't judge you but...” Kurt took Blaine's hands in his. Blaine looked up, his beautiful eyes swimming in tears. Kurt brushed his thumb over Blaine's knuckles “I want to know everything about you. The good and the bad things. I love you.” He brought a hand up to Blaine's cheek to brush away a tear. “It's a very difficult thing for me to talk about, Kurt. Revisiting these feeling is not...I try to avoid going there...it's like this very dark hole inside of me that I don't want to fall into.”
“But you don't feel that way anymore, do you? Like you want to die?” Kurt whispered, the fear clogging up his throat again. Blaine lowered his gaze. “Blaine...” Kurt was almost begging now. “Depression doesn't just go away like that.” Blaine whispered. “But I haven't been depressed for a while now.”
“But you were...after the first time?” Blaine nodded. “When we...when we were broken up I didn't feel like I had anyone to talk to. I just...I felt terribly alone most of the time. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't do anything really. My mom noticed and she forced me to go to see my therapist again. I got a prescription for anti-depressants.” “Are you still taking them?” Blaine shook his head. “Not at the moment, no. Haven't for a while actually. But I...I have some here. I can show you.” Kurt nodded and followed Blaine to the bathroom. Blaine pulled the small orange bottle out of a small bag in the back corner of the bathroom cabinet and gently put it into Kurt's hand. Kurt took a deep breath. “Blaine...I don't know much about depression. I don't know if you can promise to tell me whenever you start to feel like that again, but...please know that I will always listen, okay? I would like you to talk to me about these things. I want to be there for you. Because I love you too much and I don't think I could deal with losing you.” Blaine nodded and Kurt realized that they were both still crying. He pulled Blaine into his arms, gently kissing his forehead, then his lips. “I love you, too.” Blaine whispered. Kurt didn't know how long they were standing there like this, feeling each others heartbeat, but at one point he heard the loft door slide open. “Guys?” Cooper cautiously spoke into the empty room. “I hope you're wearing clothes. I brought take-out!” “Oh right...dinner...” Blaine mumbled against Kurt's shoulder. “Come on, let's go out to Cooper and watch some stupid reality show.. I think we could all use some cheering-up right now.”
Prompt: Blaine lost one (or both) of his legs when he was younger (maybe when he was bashed for being gay) and he has learned to use his prosthetics very well over the years, but it sometimes affects his dancing or comes off when it’s not supposed to, and it really frustrates him, because he wants to be good and not just good for a guy with a prosthetic leg.
“Do you want to sit out?” Mr. Schuester asked kindly and Blaine felt his smile strain slightly.
It wasn’t the first time he had been asked that same question since he had arrived to Booty Camp. From the moment he had walked into the auditorium, wearing shorts so the shiny metal gleamed in the stage lights. The other member’s eyes lingered on his leg but Blaine ignored them all.
“I’m fine,” he said quickly.
“We can adjust the choreography if you need,” Mike added in and Blaine tried to ignore his annoyance.
“I’m fine, you don’t need to treat me different,” Blaine took his place, feeling the back of his neck go red as everyone stared.
The music began again and he hit every single step in time with everyone else. If he could ignore the fact that everyone was watching him worriedly, he could concentrate on the moves.
Then his leg hit the ground wrong and he fell to the ground hard. There was a painful wrenching as his prosthetic came loose and he ground his teeth, turning to sit and adjust. The group went dead silent and perfectly still as Mr. Schuester hovered nearby.
“Are you alright?” He asked worriedly.
“Great. It was my fault,” he mumbled, struggling to get to his feet.
“No one will think any less of you Blaine,” Mr. Schuester said quietly, still loud enough for everyone to hear. “You’re brave and you do so well despite-“
“I dance well with or without my leg,” Blaine snapped, stretching his leg. “I can keep up with all of you.”
It had been his worst fear when he woke up from that car accident with only one leg. He had been afraid of everyone judging his worth or lowering their expectations based on the fact that he had a prosthetic. When he wore pants no one even knew he had a prosthetic leg and that was how he liked it.
He was good at dancing.
He wasn’t good at dancing despite his leg.
Blaine didn’t mind being told he was brave and strong for what he had been through. He had struggled for years to get where he was. He just wished that they would treat him like a whole person.
Prompt from blangstpromptoftheday from umblangst: Kurt is a famous fashion designer and Blaine is his boyfriend, and also 10 years younger. Blaine is constantly getting hate messages and so has gone as far as deleting twitter and Facebook. They start putting his hate mail in letters and one day Kurt is awoken to soft crying and torch light where Blaine is reading. He reads them too and he spends the night posting several messages to accounts called things like “hate-blaine” and “kurtdeservesbetter” telling them how he just woke to sobbing.
Everyone who was anyone in the fashion world had heard of Kurt Hummel. It was impossible not to have heard of him, the industry raved about his out of the box styles and his ability to weave a whole fashion line to fit or even precede the latest trend. He was the best, his clothing sold for hundreds if not thousands of dollars depending on what it was. He enjoyed his work, each design reflected something in his life, from his deceased Mother, to his Father and most of all, his boyfriend Blaine.
Blaine Anderson was a barely 20 singer who Kurt had met by accident at a coffee shop. Kurt heard the singer and fell in love, Blaine had the voice of an angel and he actually knew quite a lot about fashion. He helped Kurt on projects, secretly though as Blaine didn't want to be in that spotlight. He wasn't as emotionally strong as Kurt, wasn't able to stand in front of a whole load of people and talk about his fashion choices.
Kurt liked having Blaine around, it was grounding, seeing someone who wanted to be in front of a crowd, but only a small one. Blaine only wanted to make art and help people, he was okay with being behind the curtain as opposed to in front with Kurt. It was how they worked, Kurt helped Blaine by being supportive of him and trying to build up some confidence in him while Blaine grounded Kurt and made sure he didn't fly too far to the sun.
When they'd first got together, the tabloids were all over the story.
Kurt Hummel on date with mystery man.
Blaine Anderson revealed as Kurt Hummel's boyfriend.
Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson watch the catwalk together!
But with every good story that surfaced, bad ones floated up too.
Blaine Anderson 15 pound weight gain.
Sing a bad note Blaine?
Blaine Anderson with no gel is a hell no.
They both had known the risk of Blaine being pulled into the spotlight with Kurt, he'd get attacked as he wasn't famous, he was simply famous by association. But they were willing to ignore that simply for the need to be with each other. Kurt made sure to show just how much he loved Blaine, they kissed in public, Kurt named a fashion line after him and he had more plans to go to get Blaine to the level of celebrity that Kurt's fans thought he should be before even thinking of dating Kurt.
----
"A photoshoot?" Blaine asked, lowering his Vogue Magazine to look directly at Kurt. Kurt wanted him to be the model for the Blaine A. Fashion line, since it was all inspired by Blaine's attire. It was an idea that Blaine wasn't fully happy about, since it meant having his photo taken by lots of men who could judge him on his outfit choice, on how it looked on him. Since he saw the headline about his weight, he'd become very self concious about it, much to Kurt's dismay.
"Yes! Come on, you're perfect to be the model and I wouldn't have anyone else in the world showcase it" Kurt sat down on the sofa with him, linking Blaine's free hand with his own and rubbing small circles across his knuckles. Kurt wasn't only trying to get Blaine's image up, he was trying to get Blaine's self image up, he hated seeing his boyfriend have to look around when they're eating out to see if someone will see his burger or his salad.
"But you have tons of models who it'd work for...what about Sam? Or Noah? Finn would be a stretch, but he'd be better then me" Blaine was grasping at straws, he didn't want to give the public more ammo to use against him. They already thought he was putting on weight, pictures of him in Kurt's wares might make them believe even more that he can't control his weight.
"Sam doesn't have the body shape, it wouldn't suit Noah and I'm pretty sure we don't have any in Finn's size. Please Blaine, trust me, you'll look amazing and I want people to see my fabulous, hot as hell boyfriend exactly the way I see him. Perfect in every way" Kurt leaned over to kiss Blaine's jaw, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck. He was rewarded with the gasp he had been looking for and the tension melting away from Blaine's shoulders.
"But you know how I feel abo-"
"Yes and you know how I feel about you putting yourself down. You're amazing Blaine, your voice is like an earth bound angel, you look like one too and I wish that you could see it" Kurt knew he'd won when he saw the look in Blaine's eye that usually came out when Kurt wanted to watch Project Runway while Blaine was watching Doctor Who and Blaine let Kurt watch his show.
"Fine, I'll do it" Blaine sighed, there wasn't any way around it. Kurt could be stubborn when he wanted his way and Blaine found it easier not to fight every single time. He'd seen the fashion line, he loved it and he just hoped that the audience loved it on him.
----
The shoot went well, at least from Kurt's point of view.
Blaine felt like he'd been forced into hell for a few hours.
He hadn't been ready for the sheer muscle and hotness that the models had. He'd felt so out of place, having his photo taken in Kurt's clothing while the other models watched him. He could almost /hear/ their thoughts over how inferior he was compared to them. He'd been happy to leave and hide back at home with Kurt and a season of Sex In The City.
The pictures looked good, Blaine had really captured the essence of the line, which wasn't hard considering that it was based on his wardrobe. The pictures were already online, Blaine A. was going live as they left, streaming to every computer in the country first before crossing to others.
While Kurt was excited, Blaine was not.
Blaine didn't want anyone to see his pictures, his insecurities were warring inside of him with the self confidence that Kurt had helped him build during their relationship. What if the fat people thought he had was actually there? What if he wasn't smiling like a normal human? These questions were at the front of his mind and that scared him a lot. He just wanted to be normal, someone who wasn't on the cover of very gossip magazine or front lining something. Was it too much to ask for ordinary?
He didn't say this to Kurt, because his boyfriend had that smile on his face that was only reserved for him. His I'm so proud of you smile that danced in his eyes and lit up his whole face. Blaine wouldn't do anything to stop that smile.
How bad could it be?
----
As it turned out, very bad.
Blaine logged onto his Twitter, something Kurt had said he /had/ to get, a few days after the photos had been released. He could see that his follower count went up, since Kurt and him tweeted while they were out and about and too lazy to text. He noticed there was more mentions of his name and stupidly decided to look.
@kurtdeservesbetter: @BANDerson Why can't you leave Kurt already? was a slap to the face.
@hate-blaine: @BANDerson You'd think dating a fashion designer you'd know weight control #losetheweight was a punch to the gut.
@dieblainedie: @BANDerson Just disappear, no-one will miss you #truth was a stab to the heart.
He hadn't realized he was crying until a drop landed on his phone screen. He scanned through the rest, a weird sense of morbid fascination with the tweets all saying one basic thing. He wasn't good enough for Kurt.
He didn't know what to think, what to do. He couldn't tell Kurt, he'd get angry, do something reckless and ruin his reputation. Blaine might not like being in the spotlight, but Kurt belonged there and Blaine wasn't going to be the one to stop him.
He wasn't planning on leaving Kurt, he was just going to ignore them and hope they go away. It's only the internet, it isn't real.
----
Over the next few weeks, the tweets became too much and Blaine deleted his account. He explained it to Kurt that he felt insecure with all the bullies out there that could attack him and Kurt let him do it. Kurt didn't need to know that they already were attacking him.
He also didn't say why he deleted his Facebook was for the same reason, one fan had found his account and spread it to the others. The constant messages and comments left by people who didn't like him with Kurt were wearing away at his heart and his soul. He just wanted it to end, wanted it to stop.
He barely went outside any more, claiming to his work that he was feeling ill, that he'd caught some 24 hour bug that was lasting for a week at a time. That his non-existent cat had died and he had to bury it. He'd even used the excuse that he was going somewhere with Kurt, even though Kurt was unaware of this.
It was tiring, he'd even started getting mail concerning how he wasn't worth enough to be Kurt's boyfriend, to even exist. He couldn't sleep as each comment was burned into his brain, running laps in his head. Round and round, like clockwork.
He stayed up into the early hours of the morning, reading over each and every hand-written insult, every single typed threat on his life shoved into a too small envelope, the stamp stuck just on the envelope. The cries of a mad man/woman being sent to someone who is living the life that the mad mind wants to live.
He's becoming a madman, his mind a warrior of self hatred.
He doesn't know when it's going to end.
---
It ended a week later, on a Monday night. Well, technically a Tuesday morning, but Kurt counts it as the night as the sun hasn't come up. That's the first thing that confuses him, it's still dark outside and the reassuring heat of his boyfriend isn't permeating his side. Usually Blaine refused to get up and ended up koalaing him whenever he was awake because it's too early.
It is disorientating and scary, a fear that his boyfriend was lying on the floor of their apartment injured catapulted him to full awareness. It was silly, but he was famous and he wasn't blind, he knew that Blaine wasn't a fan favourite. They wanted him to be with Sam if anyone, not that he would. Sam was straight and while he was hot, he wasn't Blaine. No-one could give him what Blaine did. Blaine gave him his soul, everything in him went with every gesture and he thrived on it. He sat up, eyes scanning the room before seeing a small amount of light under the door.
It was too small a light to be the main light, it wasn't flickering like a candle light would, it was strong but small. A torch.
Carefully he tip-toed out of his bed, because it could be a burglar and while that would be pretty impressive since he lived in a gated community away from the public, it was still dangerous. He slowly opened the door and peered round, feeling slightly better as he saw his boyfriend was the torch welder.
He was about to open his mouth when a sob from Blaine cut him off. It was the worst sound he'd ever heard from Blaine, it was almost silent except for a soft hitch as Blaine breathed. How long had Blaine been out there?
"Blaine?" He asked softly, not surprised when the younger boy jumped about four foot in the air. Blaine often got absorbed in things and zoned out.
"Kurt" He started, desperately trying to hide something behind his back.
"What are-are those letters?" Kurt asked carefully, pulling them from Blaine's grasp to see several folded up letters and one which had been crumpled, obviously the letter he had ebeen reading. Why would Blaine get letters? Anyone who knew Blaine well enough to send them had his number.
Blaine was silent as Kurt flicked one open.
You better break up with Kurt now, before more things are drawn to your natural orbit, since you're fat enough to create one.
He opened another.
If you disappeared, no-one would care.
A tear fell from his eyes as he opened another.
Kurt deserves better.
He looked over at Blaine, seeing just how tired Blaine looked. How anyone could send such horrible things to Blaine was beyond him. It was like they were ignoring how perfect his personality is.
"How long has this been going on?" He asked softly, if he raised his voice, he knew that Blaine would panic and think that he was mad at him. The younger boy was already on edge now, he didn't want to make it worse.
"A few weeks..." Blaine mumbled, curling into what Kurt had nicknamed his puppy position. He pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his face behind his knees so only his eyes peered over the top. He looked like a kicked puppy.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want you to worry. It started on Facebook and Twitter, after the photoshoot. It just...got worse" He wasn't raising his voice over a whisper, afraid to anger Kurt, he could see anger burning behind his eyes.
"Blaine" Kurt started, "I'm so sorry, I'm going to fix it" Kurt promised, pulling Blaine into a hug which was hard considering he was curled up in a chair. He kissed Blaine's hair as Blaine relaxed into his embrace.
Kurt was going to make it all better.
---
Kurt was beyond pissed, he hated every single person who had sent Blaine a horrible message. He'd found the other letters, read the Twitter posts and the Facebook pages all dedicated to making his boyfriend feel like crap.
He had wanted to protect Blaine, to build up his self esteem to finally accept how big he would be as a famous singer, which he was /totally/ going to be.
But some stupid fans had decided to wreck all Blaine's progress and he hated all of them for it. He had messaged several of the people publicly, not even caring how it would make him look and showing them just how pissed their idol was.
@kurthummelfashion: @kurtdeservesbetter You should be ashamed of yourself. Blaine is an amazing human being and you've been basically bullying him. You make me sick.
Each message along those words made him feel less angry at them and he was sure Blaine had checked online to see them and was almost smiling because of it.
Kurt wasn't going to stand for bullying, especially when it was someone he loved.
He'd kill for Blaine and if that meant blackballing several twitter accounts online so his actual fans attacked them, well that was just karma.
Fill for BPotD # 593: Something involving Blaine and Slenderman.
This is loosely based on the Marble Hornets web series, and takes place during late season 4, say "Feud" or "Guilty Pleasures". I haven't written in a while, so please be nice.
Rating: M (language, disturbing imagery, probably some sex, maybe drug use?)
i can't begin to let you know just what i'm feeling--based off of this prompt: Blaine is bipolar, and it’s the first time Kurt’s seen him in a manic phase.
~4,400k
Kurt’s woken, strangely, by the sound of a pencil scratching against paper. At first he burrows into the sheets with a groan, drawing them up over his shoulders as he tries to drown the noise out. When that doesn’t work he sits up instead, rubbing his hands over his eyes as he forces them to focus.
The windows are still dark, and when Kurt looks down at his nightstand the numbers on his clock read 3:07. So it must be 3:07 in the morning. But why—?
Yawning, Kurt crawls down the bed, flops down with his chin hooked over the edge. “Blaine?” he asks, his voice hoarse. “What’s wrong?”
Blaine’s pencil doesn’t stop for a second and Kurt stares, fascinated, by its frenzied dance. He can barely make out Blaine’s handwriting, can’t make heads or tails of the doodles scribbled everywhere. The two pages of the open notebook he’s writing on are nearly black.
Blaine spares Kurt only a second’s glance and Kurt’s surprised to find that his eyes are bright, clear. He goes right back to writing, flips the page over and says, “Nothing’s wrong. I feel fine. Great, in fact.”
“Then why are you up at three in the morning?”
Blaine shrugs noncommittally, the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips. He’s illuminated by the flashlight, silhouetted in all the right ways to make him appear more mysterious. Dangerous flashes across Kurt’s mind, but it’s gone as soon as he thinks it, filed away as a ridiculous notion. Just because Blaine looks determined and serious, like the fate of the world rests in what he’s writing, doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong. They’re both artists; Kurt understands fully how random bursts of creativity can be, how unpredictable and gripping when they want to. He’s woken up a fair few times himself in the middle of the night with new sketch ideas or duet ideas.
“I had a lot of ideas,” Blaine says in explanation. He erases something, smears a comet’s tail of gray across the page. It doesn’t stop him. He tilts the notebook slightly, continues writing in cramped letters up the margin despite the fact that he has an empty page in front of him. It’s chaos—that’s the best way that Kurt can think to describe it. “And I couldn’t sleep.”
“You have class in the morning. Don’t you—?”
“I’m really honestly fine, Kurt.” Blaine begins to speak a little faster, his voice hushed. He stops writing, flexing his fingers, and then picks the pencil back up again. “Never better. I’m just thinking about how amazing it is that houseflies always hum in a certain key. The key of F. It’s fascinating, isn’t it? Animals are so musical and so amazing and they, like, don’t even know it, and it all comes naturally. But humans have to practice for years to get things right, and even if it comes naturally it doesn’t come instinctively, you know? I mean, I had to practice for years before I even became good at piano. And we constantly have to practice at NYADA for our classes. You’d think that a species as evolved as us would have these things without ever having to try. And then I was thinking about how I have all these great group number ideas but since we’re not in glee club anymore they’re kind of irrelevant, which sucks, but it’s whatever.”
Blaine looks up when he’s finished, takes a breath. His eyes are huge, round, pupils dilated from the darkness. Kurt stares back, not knowing what to say, and feels something in his belly, something heavy and sour and horrifically foreboding. There’s a frantically energized cadence to Blaine’s voice, a tone that Kurt’s never heard before. It isn’t just the light now that’s making him look like a different person.
Hesitating, he swallows heavily, nods, and sits up. “Can I look at what you’re writing?”
Blaine suddenly, instantly, becomes guarded, and his eyes narrow as he snaps the notebook shut and says, firm and low, “No.”
Kurt doesn’t ask any more, doesn’t say anything else, and doesn’t think that he wants to know. He crawls back up the bed and buries himself in blankets, closing his eyes tightly as the faint scratching starts up again.
----
When Kurt wakes up the next morning it’s to the smell of bacon and eggs.
He checks his bedside clock again and sees that it’s a few minutes past seven. With just him and Blaine in the loft now there’s no guessing as to whom it is, but it’s weird. Blaine is definitely not a morning person when he doesn’t have to be—at least, not this early. And especially not after being up at three in the morning.
Kurt slides out of bed, doesn’t even bother with grabbing a pair of sweatpants. There’s no one to worry about anymore, no one who will care if Kurt walks around in just his briefs. And it’s nice, liberating. Kurt loves it more than he thought he would.
He sleepily walks into the kitchen, stifling a yawn behind his hand, which he promptly drops when he sees the table.
There are two plates of pancakes and waffles, one of French toast, a huge bowl of freshly-cut mixed fruit, orange juice in the glass pitcher that Blaine loves so much, and bacon popping and sizzling on the stove. Blaine is standing against the countertop, fully dressed in a tight pair of jeans and a sweater.
“What is all this?” Kurt asks, dumbfounded. There’s hardly an inch of space on their little table that isn’t covered by some sort of platter. It looks like they’re expecting ten people, not two.
“Oh, I felt like breakfast,” Blaine says nonchalantly, like there isn’t a feast much bigger than just the two of them on the table. He rubs at the back of his neck, turns around and flashes Kurt a half-smile. “I popped on down to the gym and did some cardio and when I came back I was hungry.”
“You popped on down to the—Blaine, how long have you been up?”
“I never slept.” Blaine shrugs, flips the bacon over. “But it’s okay! I’m not tired at all. I feel like I could still hit the bag for another hour and run five more miles. I probably could’ve jogged back to the apartment but I had the groceries, and—hey, did you know that they have drinks with chia in them now? They were kinda pricey, but I mean, they’ve gotta be worth it, right? Oh, and I saw the cutest dog on my way back! We seriously need to think about getting a dog. Or a cat. Cats are nice, too.”
He sets the bacon on a paper towel-covered plate and transfers it to the table, wedging it between the fresh fruit salad and the maple syrup. He looks at Kurt expectantly, and Kurt’s surprised to notice that Blaine’s hair is still ungelled from last night, curling around his forehead and temples. Usually he does it even when he’s going to the gym, citing something about frizz and sweat.
Blaine still looks put-together in a looser way, but there’s something off about him, something that registers in his eyes and in the constant energetic twitch of his hands. But Kurt just has no idea what.
----
It bothers him all day, and in most of his classes he’s spacing out rather than paying attention. For as long as Kurt’s known Blaine he’s never see him act like this, never seen him jump from subject to subject while talking a mile a minute about things that Kurt barely understands. The Blaine that Kurt knows is quiet, articulate, eager and controlled. This Blaine…he’s nothing like that. There’s nothing quiet about this Blaine. There’s nothing controlled. There’s only a loose screen door caught in a windstorm, banging incessantly against the siding before it finally becomes unhinged and falls off completely.
He wants to ask someone, but he doesn’t know who, and he has no idea how to bring it up. “Hey, my fiancé sat up all night scribbling in a notebook, went to the gym on no sleep, and made a feast that would make the ones at Hogwarts pale in comparison” doesn’t seem like a good opening line, and it’s not like Rachel or Santana are here. With Mercedes gone and Sam back in Ohio, Kurt genuinely has no one other than Artie, and they’ve never been that close, anyway.
It doesn’t have to mean anything. Kurt rubs his fingertips against his temples, closing his eyes and listening to his Theatre History professor drone on. Maybe Blaine just has some second-wind thing going on. He’s finally adapting to the city, has finally kicked the cronut addiction and gotten back into healthy eating. That could be giving him energy, couldn’t it?
Even in his head, though, Kurt knows that it’s a weak argument, that it’s not true. The fact of the matter is that he has no idea what’s going on, and that scares him almost more than Blaine’s odd behavior.
He’s supposed to know everything about Blaine, is supposed to know, intuitively, the things that Blaine hasn’t even told him. Kurt’s always thought that he and Blaine had had that sort of relationship, but now he’s getting the feeling that there’s been something hidden from him.
Tears sting at his eyes, and Kurt ducks his head, rubs the heels of his palm furiously over them. He doesn’t need to be crying about this; he trusts Blaine, and if there’s something wrong Blaine will tell him.
…Right?
----
There’s a box waiting on the table for him when Kurt slides the door shut and lets his messenger bag fall to the ground. The loft is silent, dimly lit with their floor lamps spaced around. The light above the stove is on in the kitchen, but there’s no dinner. Kurt furrows his brows, steps forward and picks up the box. Blaine usually gets home before Kurt on Tuesdays, usually has dinner going or has texted Kurt about takeout if he doesn’t feel like cooking,
Kurt can’t shake the feeling that something is off-kilter, like someone has tilted the world just slightly so that his feet don’t fall quite right. He traces the pad of his thumb over the velvet ribbon decoration glued to the box, opens it slowly.
“Oh good, you’re home! Do you like it?”
Blaine appears from the direction of the bathroom, bouncing on his toes when he stops in front of Kurt. His mouth is stretched in a too-wide grin that looks wrong for his face, less jovial and more…off, like it doesn’t fit. It looks almost nothing like Blaine’s usual wide smiles.
Kurt blinks and finally pulls the lid off the box all the way, exposing an antique peacock feather pin with a diamond detail. He feels his jaw drop, the heat of anger building low before beginning to burn hotter. He knows this brooch. He’s coveted this brooch. It’s in the window of one of the shops he and Blaine pass all the time on the way back to the loft, and Kurt’s looked at the price, knows that they can’t afford it.
“I’m sorry I didn’t cook dinner,” Blaine’s saying, “but I just felt so wired that I had to go for a walk. And then I saw that they still had this brooch, and I know how much you wanted it, and I figured that we could go out and get something tonight, anyway.”
“Blaine,” Kurt begins, lowly, shutting the box and placing it back on the table with more force than he probably should have, “what. The hell. Were you thinking?”
Blaine blinks, looking surprised. He tilts his head. “What?”
“This brooch—Blaine, it’s over two hundred dollars. We can’t afford two hundred dollars right now. The electric payment is due in a few days, and we still have the water bill and the internet bill and god knows what else. And what about food?”
Blaine just stares at him, and Kurt gets the impression that his words are like water and Blaine is a duck’s feathers; he can almost see them rolling right off to splatter, incomprehensible, to the ground. Gradually, the confusion bleeds into anger, and Blaine’s eyes narrow, his jaw setting as he draws himself up defensively, says, “Why won’t you just accept the gift? I’m trying to do something nice for you.”
Kurt almost laughs in shock, thinks he probably would’ve if he wasn’t too busy trying to figure out this new man in front of him. “‘Something nice’? Blaine, we can’t be throwing around this kind of money! It’s just you and me now paying rent and utilities on this place. We have to be more responsible if we want to keep it.”
“So you’re saying that I’m irresponsible? That trying to get my fiancé a gift was a bad thing?”
Kurt can tell that a monster of a fight is brewing, can feel that a screaming match is just around the corner, because when he and Blaine fight they fight, words like daggers to every weak spot that they know about each other. Blaine can be difficult at times, but Kurt can be, too. Usually they get over it, work something out, but Kurt’s never seen Blaine throw around this kind of money before, like it doesn’t matter, like their situation doesn’t matter. Kurt’s aware of the environment that Blaine grew up in, knows that he’s a bit more privileged because of it, but he’s never acted as outright irresponsibly as this. It’s usually Blaine talking Kurt down from buying something expensive, Blaine with the wise words when it comes to bills and food and their savings.
Instead of rising to the bait Kurt takes a deep breath, pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, and asks, “Did you even go to class today?”
Blaine shakes his head like it isn’t a big deal. Kurt feels his stomach drop sharply, bites the inside of his cheek. Blaine doesn’t skip class, either, has never felt the urge to. He’s been a model student for as long as Kurt’s known him.
There’s something wrong—there’s no way that Kurt can deny it any longer.
----
They fuck that night, muttering apologies against each others’ mouths and necks as they tear away clothes and fall onto the bed. For a moment Kurt lets himself believe that there’s nothing wrong, that there isn’t an elephant in the room, and it seems like it as Blaine pants and mewls below him, eyes scrunched up and head tilted back as Kurt works three fingers inside of him. But when Blaine flips their positions more forcefully than he normally would, when he straddles Kurt’s hips and rides him so hard that Kurt’s skin stings and their bed groans beneath them, and when their eyes meet and Blaine’s are wild and unfocused Kurt’s thrown back into reality, coming with a bittersweet cry on his lips.
After, Blaine turns to him, skin shining with sweat, and says, “We should have a threesome, you know? We’re in New York, we’re young. We should experiment! I think it’d be fantastic, don’t you? Just imagine it. God, it’d be so hot. Oh, or we should go to a sex club! I’ve heard those are really cool, and I think it’d be an interesting experience. And we could always ask a few of our friends to go with us. What about you, Kurt?”
His eyes are wide, unblinking, and seem to waver and glisten unnaturally in the light. Kurt doesn’t say anything in response.
----
It goes on for days. Blaine doesn’t stop, even when Kurt tells him that he’s too exhausted to keep up. It doesn’t phase him; still Blaine goes to the gym every morning, has skipped more classes than he’s attended this week. Work is the only thing he’s ever prompt and present for, or so Kurt hopes—Blaine losing his job would mean things that Kurt doesn’t really want to go through.
Blaine wakes Kurt up with a blowjob before the sun’s even up one morning and he’s gone almost immediately after, out the door with a parting yell before Kurt’s dick is even soft.
Kurt can’t fall asleep after that, curls up on his side and stares listlessly at the ticking numbers on the clock before he finally gathers the energy to sit up. Once he does he wraps his arms around his knees, staring at the steel door of the loft like it’ll make Blaine come back, normal, not like this wind-up toy version of himself that’s been twisted too tight and never stops even when he reaches the edge.
Tears bite at Kurt’s eyes again and this time he lets them fall, rests his forehead on the mountain caps of his knees and lets his frustration ooze out of him.
He forces himself to get out of bed once the sun has begun to crest over the skyline, shading the room in muted grays. The loft is too silent without Blaine’s incessant, inane chatter, and as Kurt pads around, turning on the coffeepot and finding a packet of oatmeal for breakfast before his afternoon shift, he feels jumpy, like his skin is stretched too tight or isn’t put on right and he could fall out of it at any moment.
He’s exhausted from the stress of everything—of Blaine’s unexplainable mood changes, of his impulsive spending, of the little arguments they’ve had since the first day that have escalated abnormally fast into them screaming at each other and Blaine storming out only to come back ten minutes later apologetic and repentant, an almost scary antithesis of the way that he’d looked slamming the door behind him.
Kurt has no idea what’s going on, and it still scares him more than anything.
He sets a pot on the counter and heads into the bathroom, twisting on the faucet and splashing cold water on his face. When he looks at his reflection he sees sallow skin, dark-ringed eyes, worry etched in every pore.
Kurt sets his jaw and turns away, rooting in the cabinet for his moisturizer. It isn’t where he’d left it last night, on the topmost shelf right within reach, so he frowns, crouches down and roots through the bottom. His fingers brush against something there, a tiny bottle. Forehead furrowing, Kurt pulls it out and discovers an orange prescription pill container half-full. He doesn’t know anyone besides his dad that takes prescription medication, and he knows that nothing had been left behind the last time that Burt had visited New York. And Blaine’s never discussed a condition requiring it with Kurt, so it can’t be his.
But when Kurt turns the bottle over to read the label he discovers that the prescription is made out to an “Anderson, Blaine.” The print at the bottom tells him that it’s something called lithium.
It doesn’t ring a bell at first, but that’s secondary; all Kurt can think about is how betrayed he feels that Blaine wouldn’t even tell him about this. Kurt had thought that after the cheating incident they told each other everything without question. Why would Blaine keep this a secret?
Kurt falls back, sits down on the floor and rests against the sink. He holds the pill container in his hand, staring at the tiny print until it all blurs together into a dark mass, until it ceases to have any meaning. He shakes it and it rattles. It feels heavy.
He stays there until Blaine comes home, doesn’t move even when Blaine calls out his name. When Blaine appears in the doorway still Kurt doesn’t move, just stares at the bottle.
“…Kurt?”
There’s a note of fear in Blaine’s voice, and he says, “What…what are you doing?”
Kurt wets his lips, finally looks up. Blaine’s shouldering his gym bag, chest still glistening with sweat where it’s bared from the low scoop of his tank top. His lower lip is drawn between his teeth, trapped there, and his eyes keep flickering from the bottle to Kurt’s face and back again.
“What’s this?” Kurt asks, quietly.
Blaine doesn’t speak right away, looks everywhere but Kurt’s face and the bottle. The silence stretches on and Kurt snaps, “What is this?”
Blaine scrubs a hand over his face. “It’s, um…it’s my medication. Part of it.”
“Your medication for what?”
Blaine laughs humorlessly, turning his head to the side and closing his eyes. “Please don’t make me tell you.”
“Tell me what, Blaine?” Kurt stands up, the pills rattling as he shakes the bottle. The anger that’s been simmering is about to erupt, flowing just under the surface of his skin with a white-hot intensity. The words won’t stop once they start. “Tell me how you’ve been lying to me even when we swore we wouldn’t keep secrets? How, I’m guessing, that you’re like this because you stopped taking it? How you’re still fucking lying to me even when the evidence is right in your face?”
“I was getting better!” Blaine shouts, and it’s sudden, quick, so sharp that it echoes. Kurt flinches, but only barely, and still stands his ground. Blaine drops his bag, scrubs both hands over his face, and sags against the doorframe like it’s too difficult to keep his body up. “I was—I felt stabilized. I felt good, most days, finally. It was like before. And I just…I didn’t want to take it anymore.”
“Take what, Blaine?”
Blaine scrubs a palm over his eye, takes a deep breath. When he speaks he speaks to the bottle, too afraid to meet Kurt’s eyes. “It’s, um, it’s lithium. For my, uh…” He stops, run a hand through his hair, reaches forward and grabs the bottle, finally looking up. He says it quick: “I’m bipolar.”
Kurt takes a half-step back in shock, lips parting. Blaine looks broken, ashamed, his knuckles white from his tight grip around the bottle. “Since when?”
“Since before Grease. Around the time that I…well, you know.” And Kurt knows, remembers easily the sting of learning about Eli, the shock that someone like Blaine could do that. From what Kurt knows about bipolar disorder it makes a little more sense now, makes the last week a lot less scary and disorienting. “After that I started acting weird, like drinking a lot and maxing out my parents’ credit cards, and my mom’s aunt is bipolar so she knows about manic episodes, so she took me to the doctor. And, well, the rest is history, I suppose.”
“Aren’t you—?”
Blaine shakes his head, smiles bitterly. “It can happen any time into your thirties.”
Kurt places his hand over his mouth, then lowers it. “Why did you stop? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Blaine shrugs, looking down at the bottle. “I know it’s stupid. It’s never cured, only managed, but already I’m so sick of relying on pills that could stop working any day. I never feel exactly normal anymore—at least, not like I used to before. I can still feel the mood shifts sometimes, even with my meds.” He gives Kurt a watery smile. “I didn’t want you thinking any less of me, as dumb as it sounds. It took awhile to get stabilized, and since you were in New York and we weren’t together I just never wanted to bother you with it. And once we did finally get back together I felt like I could handle it on my own.” He lets out a little laugh. “Guess not.”
A tear streaks wetly down Kurt’s cheek, and he wraps his arms around Blaine, pulls him in for a hug. It takes a few seconds for Blaine’s arms to wind around Kurt’s waist, and then he’s hugging him tightly, face pressing into the crook of Kurt’s neck as he sucks in a shaky breath.
“You know that I’m always here for you, okay?” Kurt murmurs, cupping the back of Blaine’s head. “No matter what’s wrong, or even if you think that it’s too stupid to bring up. I love you and I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me for life.”
Blaine exhales a shuddery laugh, his body trembling, and Kurt can tell that Blaine’s smiling when he presses his lips to the skin of Kurt’s neck. “You make that sound like it’s a bad thing.”
“I could always make it a bad thing.”
“I love when you try to be seductive and fail at it.”
Kurt slaps Blaine’s shoulder, pulling back and rolling his eyes. “I swear to god.” He pauses. “Um, so to get back on track, do you…?”
Blaine sighs, looking down at the bottle still clutched in his fist. “I just need to take my usual dose in the morning, which is when I usually took it. But I should also probably go to the doctor tomorrow to talk to them.”
Kurt nods and tries to act like it’s no big deal, like he isn’t still wrapping his head around this. Blaine’s moods have shifted so rapidly over the last ten minutes that he’s feeling dizzy just from watching it. “How long have you not been taking it?”
“Almost all week.”
Kurt sighs, thinning his lips. He can’t say anything because he doesn’t know, exactly, what goes through Blaine’s mind on a day to day basis, medicated or not, and he doesn’t want to accidentally say the wrong thing. “Then I’m going with you,” is what he settles on, firm as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Kurt—you don’t have to—”
“Blaine.” Kurt levels Blaine with a stare, drops his arms and cups his cheek. “When I agreed to marry you I didn’t mean that I was going to run at the first sign of conflict. I want to be there so I can learn. Is that okay?”
Blaine breaks out into a smile that’s still too eerily reminiscent of the manic phase he’s still in, wide and a little too enthusiastic, but Kurt can see Blaine still under there. This is still Blaine—of course it is.
Blaine takes Kurt’s hand, slides their fingers together and squeezes. “It’s more than okay.”
Summary: It had been ten years and they weren't the same people.
Prompt :blangstpromptoftheday 656: Blaine was trapped in an abusive relationship with Eli from the time of the breakup and no one noticed. Kurt moved on and found someone else in NYC and now, ten years after the breakup, he’s just finished a messy divorce and is left with their two adopted kids. They meet in a grocery store and start reforming their friendship, but it doesn’t take long for Kurt to realize something isn’t right with Blaine.
Warnings: Abuse
Kurt scowled at the cereal choices and huffed slightly. Why was everything made with like a trillion grams of sugar? Keely and Gavin were hyper enough without any added sugar and he didn’t need the four-year-old twins bouncing off the walls of their tiny apartment.
Right, their tiny apartment since Luka got the house in the divorce.
Dick.
Luka, the man who made Kurt quit acting. Luka, the man who promised Kurt everything and gave him nothing. Luka, the man who had fought for their home and not their children.
All Kurt got out of it was child support.
Thankfully, Santana got him a job as her assistant and he was just trying to get back on his feet. It was hard to restart life at twenty-nine with two kids.
“I know,” a soft voice came from somewhere behind him. “No I’m at the store. Eli, I don’t think you need any gin…okay I will. I’m sorry. No it’s…okay I’m sorry.”
The poor guy sounded so meek and Kurt’s curiosity got the best of him. He glanced over to where the man was standing by the peanut butter and his heart stopped.
Blaine.
It had to be Blaine. He looked a little thinner than he did in high school and his face was lined. His hair was ungelled and fell into his eyes and he was dressed in a sweatshirt and worn jeans.
“Blaine?” Kurt called out and the other man snapped his head towards him.
“Oh,” he blinked owlishly. “Hi.”
“Wow, how long has it been?” Kurt took a few steps towards him and Blaine moved the basket in front of him, looking almost trapped.
“Um…maybe ten years?” Blaine gave him a tiny smile.
“What have you been up to?” Kurt asked, glancing down to see a wedding ring on his finger. “Got married I see.”
“Oh yeah,” Blaine blinked down at his hand. “Um…nine years now. We have a five year old.”
“I have four year old twins,” Kurt fished out his phone and showed him the pictures.
“They’re beautiful,” Blaine gave him their first real smile he had seen since he started talking.
“I have to run and pick them up actually,” Kurt frowned at the time. “But let’s meet up for lunch or something. I’d love to meet up with you.”
After a long moment of hesitation, Blaine tapped his number into his phone and agreed to meet the next day for lunch.
That night, once the children were asleep and he was exhausted, he realized that Blaine had looked trapped and frightened the entire time.
—
“So…are you married?” Blaine asked, sipping at his tea.
“Was, we just divorced,” Kurt bit back all the nasty things he would say about his ex. “He just wasn’t right.”
“Ah,” Blaine nodded.
“What are you doing now?” Kurt asked, noticing the way Blaine picked at his food. “Performing?”
“No, no,” Blaine let out a short laugh. “I’m just…daddy.”
It felt incredibly awkward. Blaine was sitting stiffly and hardly smiling, looking nothing like his ex-boyfriend. Once, they had known each other better than they knew themselves. Now it was like he was sitting across from a stranger.
“Tell me about your husband,” Kurt said and a flash of panic went through Blaine’s eyes.
“He’s…the guy…”
Oh.
Blaine had married the man he had cheated on him with.
“Well I’m glad you’re happy,” Kurt gave him a small smile and turned back to his food. He could ignore the old jealousy swelling up in his chest.
“He’s wonderful. He takes care of me,” it came out flat and rehearsed sounding, making Kurt pause.
He hoped that he still knew Blaine and he knew when he was lying. Something was wrong and he wanted to figure out what.
—
The next time Kurt saw Blaine he started getting suspicious.
They met for coffee and Blaine gave him a small smile, wincing a little when it aggravated his cut lip and his bruised eye.
“What happened?” Kurt gasped, reaching up to gently touch his eye and jumping when Blaine flinched violently.
“It’s so embarrassing. I was opening the kitchen cabinet and the hinge must have worn out. It fell down and bashed me in the face,” Blaine let out a fake laugh.
Kurt paid for the coffee, the laugh still echoing in his head. He had plenty of experience with bruises with two rambunctious children and he knew they weren’t from a bump to the head.
“If you need anything, please let me know,” he said softly as they left the coffee shop. “I know things were bad between us but I still care about you.”
“I will,” Blaine nodded, that guarded look crossing over his eyes again.
—
Tuesday was laundry day and it seemed like there was more to do every week. With a heavy sigh, he hoisted the basket onto his hip and started walking into the children’s room when a knock on the door made him pause.
“You both better be cleaning your room,” he called out and opened the front door.
Blaine was holding a sleeping child to his chest, tears streaming down his bruised face.
“I left him,” Blaine choked out.
Without a word, Kurt took his hand and led him in. They got the children to bed, Blaine barely keeping it together as he brushed back Delia's hair and kissed her forehead. As soon as they got back into the living room, Blaine broke down.
“Here,” Kurt handed him an ice pack and Blaine shook pitifully on the couch. “Blaine, please talk to me.”
“God, I wanted to tell you so many times,” he wiped at his eyes. “We broke up and Eli was just so comforting. I just missed you so bad and he was good to me. We just kind of fell into a relationship and I…I thought I loved him.”
Kurt could tell where this was going and his heart sank.
“I moved in with him and he started…he wouldn’t let me hang out with friends or talk to my family. I had to quit school and just stayed at home waiting for him. He started hurting me and…when did I become afraid of my husband?” Blaine wrapped his arms around his stomach. “He had manipulated me into a relationship and then kept me there through fear.”
“You’re here now. You chose to get safe,” Kurt reached across and gently squeezed his hand.
“I’ve been with him for ten years,” Blaine whispered. “I thought that I could get through it if it was just me but then Delia was crying and he tried to hit her. He tried to hit my baby and that was it. I can’t do it anymore.”
“You don’t have to,” Kurt gave him a gentle smile. “You and Delia are safe. Stay here as long as you want.”
Blaine looked up at him and for a moment he looked just like the teenager who had sworn to love him forever. Kurt’s entire being ached with the craving to pull him into his arms and never let him go.
Kurt’s family had broken and Blaine’s had been broken from the beginning. Maybe they could close to where they had been but for now he had to help Blaine heal his family.
