CHAPTER 14: Confessions

Kurt didn't remember much of his way back home. He knew he ran out into the street, knew he had taken the subway, but it was all a blur. Now he was home, alone in his tiny apartment, and it was Friday evening. The weekend stretched before him, all the time he needed to think about... well, everything.

He didn't want to think though, not yet. He was too raw from the last few hours, reeling from the pain that wasn't even his, yet he could feel it through every fiber of his body. He needed some time, a buffer to numb him, even just a little, before he could really let himself think about Blaine and that night, those years, the last months. But there was no escaping Melanie's words nor the images they'd evoked, nowhere to hide from his brain and the emotions that were just waiting to tear him apart as soon as he let the shaky remnants of his defenses down.

So he did something he hadn't done in years. He dug in his bathroom cabinet for the old prescription bottle, back from the time when actually sleeping through the night was a challenge. A few pills still rattled at the bottom and normally, Kurt might have questioned taking six-years-old medication, but tonight, he just shrugged and swallowed one dry. In the worst case, it wouldn't work.

But it did work, thankfully, and a night of deep sleep with no dreams was exactly the relief he needed.

What he'd forgotten, though, was how the pills made him feel when he woke up – woozy and still half-lost in sleep, so open to every thought, every tiny shift in the air. Now he remembered why he hated them. Being hit over the head with the reality he was trying to escape from, first thing in the morning, when he was at his most vulnerable, was not what he'd been looking for – not back then, and definitely not now.

And he was glad it was the weekend, after all, because he wouldn't be able to get himself together enough to go to work, not when it was impossible to get out of bed, curled around the pain deep in his chest that he knew rationally wasn't there, but still hurt like a bitch.

By Sunday night he was all cried out, heavy with remorse and self-condemnation.

True, the night that had started it all – the one that had ruined Blaine's life and his – wasn't Kurt's fault (though deep down, an unreasonable little voice reminded him with uncomfortable precision just how he'd pleaded with Blaine – Matt – to do whatever it took to keep him safe from John's wrath). He couldn't imagine doing what Blaine had to do, forcing himself into acting so much against his own nature, ruining everything he had, to save someone else. It hurt to even think of what Blaine must have gone through, back in that house, and later. But Kurt wasn't the one to blame here, just like Blaine wasn't the one to blame for Kurt's trauma, after all.

What Kurt knew he was guilty of was what came later, this last year and their arrangement – relationship – that he'd so carelessly directed. He flinched every time he thought of everything he'd been doing, saying, even thinking since meeting Blaine last February; every time Blaine had said no only to give up under Kurt's arguments or pleading.

He would give you everything you ask for, Melanie said.

And he had. Step by step, from one night to more to exclusivity to basically being a boyfriend substitute, Blaine had given him everything Kurt had wanted, and more. From his new perspective, Kurt couldn't fathom how much it must have cost him. And yet, Blaine had never shown it was hard for him. Not when Kurt had been there, at least.

Because he thinks he owes you.

God, he'd been such an ungrateful little shit, hadn't he? Blaine didn't owe him anything, he never had. It was Kurt who had a debt the size of Texas; his life, literally and figuratively.

None of the realizations were easy, none of the thoughts painless. The worst thing was that Kurt had no idea what to with all of it. The sex had to stop, obviously, but what could he even say to Blaine? How to stand before him and confess what he'd been thinking, how he'd seen him all that time? How to apologize when no words would ever be enough?

He wanted to go home, to Lima, to sit down with his dad and tell him everything. But he couldn't, he'd just been home for Christmas, and the new job meant no chance for time off, and how could he discuss it anyway, with his dad of all people? He couldn't, not in any amount of detail, not when so much of it revolved around sex. They would both die of embarrassment.

But he had no one else to talk about it, either – no one who knew. So in the end, he did call his dad – revealing just a little bit, just the core of what was clawing at him, his voice small and shaky.

"I messed up, dad. I've been stupid and I hurt someone and I don't know what to do."

There was a beat of silence on the other end, then a question, tight and careful.

"Kurt, do you mean like... an accident? Or–"

The breath escaped him in a stunned burst. "What? No, just... someone did something for me and I didn't really understand how huge it was, and I've treated him terribly, dad, I just. I don't know what to do."

His dad hummed, the sound so earnest and so familiar. "You do the only thing you can do. You apologize and you fix it as best you can."

"It's not that easy." Kurt sighed, and he could almost see his dad nodding, his face serious.

"It never is."

When Monday came, Kurt was all too ready to get out of his apartment and away from his thoughts. Work turned out to be an escape he needed, a blessed relief. He was surprised how easy it was to switch his emotions off when he designed, the way it used to be years ago. For a few hours there was only him and his sketches, his ideas, the fabric samples to choose from. He needed that – more of that.

During his lunch hour he sent a text to Blaine, a little lie about being crazy busy all week and having no time to meet until the next weekend at least. Blaine sent back a smile and a lighthearted comment about him being the big busy designer now, and Kurt had to escape to the bathroom because his eyes stung again – because this felt so normal, so easy, when he knew now that it couldn't be. Nothing about them was easy.

He lost himself in work that week, every day filled to the brim until there was no time for even a moment of thinking about his screwed up private life. But when the moment to go home inevitably came, it was all back, heavier every night. Or so it seemed.

He couldn't escape forever. It wasn't the right thing to do – the responsible, adult thing. And it was time to be responsible at last.

On Friday, Kurt was still nowhere near ready for the conversation that had to come. But more time wouldn't help. Nothing would. So he just texted and set the time, and then he went.

Blaine was smiling when he let him in, looking effortlessly gorgeous and so normal, nothing troubled about him. It was such a contrast to the last time Kurt had seen him, such a reminder of how much Blaine had been hiding, and for how long, that it brought tears to Kurt's eyes again, sudden and unwelcome. He swallowed through his tightened throat until it loosened, wiping his cheeks quickly. Not quickly enough.

Blaine frowned, his hand coming up to Kurt's face.

"Hey, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

There was no use waiting, or pretending. The time for honesty had come. Kurt sniffed delicately.

"I met your friend last Friday." Blaine's eyebrows rose incredulously, and Kurt added. "Melanie."

"Oh god." Blaine's face lost all color. "What did she tell you?"

Kurt kept his eyes, his voice breaking. "Everything. She... she brought me here. And she told me everything."

Blaine turned without a word and walked away from him on unsteady legs to drop to the couch, face hidden in his hands. He didn't speak for a long while – no denying, no questions – and Kurt stood there paralyzed, wondering what to do, how to react.

Finally, he went with his heart.

Blaine didn't flinch or push him away when Kurt sat next to him, but when he looked up again, all the masks were gone. For the first time, Blaine really looked like a man who had lost everything.

"I should have told you myself. It was easier not to but... I bet Mel was more dramatic than strictly necessary, wasn't she?"

Kurt shrugged. "She got me to listen. Really listen, when I didn't want to hear what she was saying at first. She's... very protective of you."

"She is. I'm sorry if she upset you."

Kurt braced himself for what he had to do.

"No, I needed to hear it. Because... Blaine, I messed up." The confession was like acid in Kurt's throat, but he breathed through it, determined to get it all out in the open. "I'm sorry. I thought... bad things. I had never really considered your side of the story until Melanie told me, I just assumed and I... I blamed you, okay? I thought you wanted it, that assignment, that you took it because... because you didn't mind doing it and that you didn't care and so you wouldn't care now, either, and–"

"Kurt, oh my god, never, I would never have taken it if I'd known, how can you even think that!" Blaine looked at him shocked, betrayed, and Kurt wound his arms around his own suddenly aching stomach.

"I know, I know now. And I'm so sorry, you have no idea, for everything I've ever said and done that hurt you, I wish I could take it all back, fix it – can I fix it somehow? Even just a little?" He looked up then, hopeful, and Blaine's eyes were wet.

"You are fixing it." He croaked after a few shuddery breaths, and pulled Kurt into a hug.

They were silent for a while, just breathing together until Blaine's frantic heartbeat slowed down to a steady rhythm and he pulled away.

"I can't believe you thought I wanted to do that to you – to anyone. God, Kurt, I was–" Blaine broke off and shook his head.

"Tell me."

"I was terrified. Not going in, that was easy, just... when I realized there was no other way. But you were so brave, and I knew I had to be brave too, my job was being brave. I just... I didn't expect I'd need that kind of bravery."

Kurt shook his head. "I wasn't brave. I was so scared I thought I'd pass out. But then you were there, and you were so different from what I was told to expect, so... human, so careful with me, and that helped so much, Blaine. It was a nightmare, my whole time there, but... you made me feel safe. In the middle of all that, and I didn't know who you were, and yet... I felt safe, for a little bit. That was the best thing you could have given me, except freedom. And then you went and gave me that, too."

"Kurt–" Blaine was crying openly now, and Kurt pulled him in and held him, and whispered in his ear.

"You did good. I'm so sorry I ever thought... You were wonderful, Blaine, and I didn't know what it was like for you or I'd have told you long ago. This whole thing messed me up, yes, but it wasn't you. It wasn't your fault, you did what you had to do, and I'm sorry I doubted your intentions. I'm sorry I never asked. But you were the hero in this, not the monster. You need to let it go, honey, you need to forgive yourself because you did nothing wrong."

"But you–"

"I have nothing to forgive, and everything to thank you for. Not just back then, but now, all this year. You just kept saving me, giving me my life back, bit by bit. I wouldn't be where I am now without you. You set me free in so many ways, and I will never be able to thank you enough. Now it's time for you to take your life back."

They sat in silence for a long time, holding each other, two survivors of an old cataclysm that had changed everything. Finally, when Blaine's shoulders were no longer shaking, Kurt stroked his back and whispered.

"I will be there for you if you want me to, but we should stop doing this. No more sex. It's time to figure things out, separately."

Blaine shuddered one last time and pulled away from his embrace, something sad and desperate in his face. "Yeah. Just... could you–"

"Anything."

"One last time. Can you give me that?"

Kurt didn't hesitate or question Blaine's reasons. He simply kissed him. "Yes."

All those times, Kurt realized, he'd been doing this for himself. No matter what they did, no matter how, he was thinking about himself first. Not that he didn't care about Blaine's pleasure, but in his head, it was every man for himself, each of them gaining something.

But now, this was all about Blaine. Blaine who led him to the bed for the last time, who stripped simply and easily, and then lay down and waited for Kurt to join him. And Kurt spent longer than he ever had just kissing him, touching and holding and rocking together, not to get off but because it was so close, so intimate. And when Blaine spread for him, open and vulnerable and wanting, he didn't think of himself at all, for once. He couldn't care less about his own arousal. It was all Blaine, under his tongue, around his fingers, accepting him so perfectly.

And Blaine... Kurt had never seen him so unguarded, letting go so completely. He was just taking tonight, nothing else, open to whatever Kurt would give him – and Kurt wanted to give him so much. He could give him everything and it would never be enough, but he would at least try.

Blaine's face, so open and soft, his eyes focused on Kurt, his voice breaking over Kurt's name that he'd never heard him utter in those most helpless moments – he'd never forget that.

Blaine fell asleep in his arms afterwards and Kurt held him until he stirred an hour later, awakened by a chirp of his phone. The warm weight shifted in Kurt's embrace, pressing close for the last time, and then Blaine pulled away and sat up.

They parted with a soft kiss and no words, and Kurt went out into the night, not looking back.