His finger grazed the blue button, ending the call. Kurt stared at his phone. He almost couldn't believe what had just happened.
He'd had to spend a full minute working up the nerve, thumb hovering over the 'Call' icon, mind whirring through various scenarios - Blaine being angry that the gay kid from two days ago was calling him during school (I don't even know your last name. What makes you think I'll drop everything for you?), Blaine laughing at him for being so scared (surely not; he seemed like a nice guy), Blaine not even answering the phone because he didn't want to help Kurt.
What he hadn't expected was Blaine answering promptly with a "Hello? How can I help you?", listening patiently, and then telling Kurt he was heading to his car right now and signing off with a concerned "Take care until I get there, okay?"
Kurt was still half-sure he was dreaming.
In actual fact, he was almost wishing that the past few hours had been a dream.
He shook his head briefly, the sudden rush of memories filling him with revolt. Kurt yelling at the bastard who made his life a misery, daring Karofsky to hit him, to finish this once and for all. Then the press of clammy thick-fingered hands on his face, chapped lips meeting his, a horrid taste spilling over into his mouth, lingering even when Karofsky pulled away, punching the locker in apparent disgust.
A sudden call of "Kurt!" washed away those nasty thoughts, and he looked up to see Mercedes waving him over, a short boy wearing navy blue and red standing next to her with a hand shading his face from the sun. Blaine. Kurt wondered how he had gotten here so fast - as far as he knew, Westerville was an hour's drive away on a good day. Remembering this made him flush slightly at the realisation that Blaine had driven that far on a school day. For him.

The courtyard was buzzing with people making their most of their short lunch-break, and Kurt had to push past more than one clump of rowdy freshman to reach Mercedes and Blaine. He stepped up to them, smiling weakly at his best friend. Truth be told, he didn't feel like ever smiling again.
"This guy was looking for you. You know each other?"
Mercedes was giving him her patented 'tell-me-everything' look.
"Y-yeah. Puck got sick of me-" (and here he saw her frown menacingly - Puck was gonna get it now) "-and sent me off to spy on the Warblers. Blaine caught me."
Blaine turned to Mercedes with a brilliant smile which made Kurt forget exactly what he was doing there. "Kurt's not a very good spy, y'know. Next time he might want to ditch the plaid pants and sunglasses."
The short girl gave a tight laugh, unsure how to take Blaine's remark. "Well, nice to meet you, Blaine." She glanced at Kurt. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"
He nodded. "Yep. See you later."
With a quick wave, Mercedes vanished through the open double-doors to the cafeteria.
"So. You said that guy was giving you trouble again?"
"Um, yes. Yes, you could definitely say that."
Kurt bit his lip, fighting the returning temptation to fall into Blaine's arms and cry on his shoulder. "Karofsky, he, um..."
A warm hand touched his arm lightly and holy shit, since when did straight guys get that close to gay guys without freaking out?
"What happened, Kurt? Come on, I said I was gonna be here for you. You can tell me, right?" The soothing tone of Blaine's voice hit something in Kurt's brain, and the whole tale began to rush out. "He shoved me, and I ran after him and shouted at him, I told him to hit me because I was never gonna change, and then he kissed me and just ran away and it was horrible-"
"He did what?"
Kurt closed his mouth abruptly, stopping his babbling, then whispered, "He kissed me."

The hum of the McKinley crowd provided a cover for the awkward silence that settled over the two boys. Kurt snuck a look at Blaine's face, and then tilted away again, seeing the horror and was that disgust, at the very thought of being kissed by a boy?
'Kurt. Look at me."
He obeyed out of habit.
"What do you want me to do?"
Kurt blinked. Honestly, he didn't really know. He just needed to tell someone, someone who wouldn't freak out and try to kill Karofsky (like the Glee guys or his dad). But somehow, he ended up saying, "Could... Could you help me talk to him?"
Once again Blaine's hand was on his arm, rubbing it gently. "Of course."
They stood there for a few moments more before Blaine tugged on Kurt's sleeve gently. "Do you know where he might be now?"
Kurt sniffed, wiping away a tear that he didn't remember crying. "Um, the football team has practice at lunchtimes. But they're probably finished by now, so they might be-"
He spotted several flashes of red and yellow on the outside stair. "There."
Blaine twisted around. "On the stairs?" He turned back to Kurt long enough to catch his confirming nod before patting his shoulder. "Let's go, then."

Their shoes - one pair of knee-high lace-up boots, one pair of regulation black school shoes - stepped lightly on the concrete stairs. Blaine kept pace with Kurt perfectly, talking in a quiet monotone about how nice the drive here was, which was really all Kurt wanted, something to distract him from the terror of his real situation - and then there was another flash of red and yellow, and Kurt knew that Karofsky was coming. He prayed to the God he didn't believe in that Blaine could somehow talk Dave into some sense, one straight guy to another.
Oh, right. Karofsky wasn't straight, was he?
"Thanks again for coming," Kurt said quietly.
Blaine shrugged slightly. "Just let me do the talking, okay?"
The flow of students thinned, and Karofsky had just put his foot onto the first step when Blaine reached him, Kurt standing back a little. "Excuse me," Blaine said, polite to the last. The big footballer took in the two boys.
"Hey, lady boys." Karofsky sneered at them. "This your boyfriend, Kurt?"
Blaine ignored the insult and soldiered on. "No, I'm straight. Look, Kurt and I would like to talk to you about something."
"I gotta go to class." Karofsky shoved past them, his hand whipping out to push Kurt into the hard mesh on the side of the stairs.
"Kurt told me what you did."
He stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh yeah? What's that?"
Kurt stared at Karofsky, whose hands had now slid into his pockets. He looked like he didn't have anything to worry about. And really, there hadn't been any consequences yet. Why should this time be any different?
Kurt took a deep breath. "You kissed me."
The jock's posture changed instantly. He shot frantic glances over each shoulder. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"It seems like you might be a little confused, and I'm sure that's totally normal. Adolescence is a time when you find yourself. You should know that this... It's not the answer."
For a few moments, it appeared as if Blaine's words hadn't had any effect. Then, Karofsky turned around and charged at the smaller boy, backing him up against the mesh fence.
"You do not mess with me, you little weakling," he hissed. "Sticking up for faggots? Get back to your fucking hole."
There was a resounding metallic sound as Blaine's body slammed into the railing, making Kurt gasp. He had expected Blaine to push Karofsky away, maybe even hit him, but Blaine looked petrified, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. Without thinking, Kurt lunged at Karofsky and shoved him towards the stairs. "You have to stop this!"
There was silence for a second or two. Kurt kept his eyes on Karofsky, breathing heavily and all-too-aware that his own face was betraying his fear.
Twisting around, Karofsky headed down the stairs at a run.

Kurt turned to Blaine, trembling slightly. "Are... Are you okay?"
The Dalton boy still looked shocked. "Um. Yeah, I think so." He huffed out a shaky laugh. "Well, he's not coming out anytime soon."
A shudder ran through Kurt's body, and he staggered over to the stairs, slumping against the wall. Blaine pushed off the mesh, a frown contorting his face, and sat beside Kurt. "What's going on? Are you okay?" He touched Kurt's shoulder gingerly, as if afraid that Kurt would break down in tears.
Kurt sighed. "He didn't hurt me. It's just... Up until yesterday, I had never been kissed." He managed a weak smile. "At least, one that counted."
He felt Blaine shifting uncomfortably next to him, even though the next words out of the boy's mouth were said in a perfectly reassuring tone. "Kurt... I can't even imagine how hard this is for you. But it's gonna be okay, you know? Karofsky, he's going to get the help he needs. You, you're going to keep on being the wonderful person that you are, and someday, you're going to kiss someone. A real kiss, one that counts. Because that didn't count, you hear me? It only counts when both people want it." Blaine threaded his fingers through Kurt's, squeezing gently. "Come on. I'll buy you lunch."
Blaine released Kurt's hand when they both stood exactly as Kurt had predicted. What he hadn't predicted was that Blaine would hold his hand in the first place. And he certainly hadn't predicted that after everything was said and done and they were heading off to lunch, Kurt looked at Blaine and knew that he had just fallen even more utterly and hopelessly in love with another straight boy.