“I’m sorry if I scared you.” That’s all Puck says to me as he buries his hands in his jeans’ pockets. He’s got a guilty look on his face and it’s hard for me to understand why he won‘t look at me anymore. Puck hasn’t done anything wrong, not a thing, it was just a reflex, a stupid, unpredictable case of muscle memory. I know this is true because I know that Puck isn’t going to hurt me, I know that he’s just a kid, like me, I know that he cares about Finn and Kurt and I know that he thinks I’m a good guy. He just told me so. It’s not him, it’s me and I want to tell him this but I don’t get the chance.

“Come on in guys!” Finn says as he takes a seat at the table and catches sight of us lingering in the doorway. I can only imagine what we look like. He’s waving Puck and I in and he’s got that trademark goofy smile plastered on his face. It settles me a little, his smile, in a way it reminds me that I’m not at home, I’m in the unfamiliar but safe territory of the Hummel-Hudson household. No one will judge me here, no one will call me a faggot and no one would even dream of physically attacking me. They’re not like my father, they’re so generous, so kind and in my head I know that, I do, I just have to make myself believe it.

I pull myself together then, I have to, I breathe in the scents of the cooked meat and the rich, crisp vegetables and I decide to walk right in there. I straighten myself up and Puck lets out an unexpectedly shaky breath as he follows closely behind me. I’m very aware that he must know that something is wrong with me now. He’s just had a good glimpse at how messed up I really am.

I want to turn around and tell Puck not to worry about me, that it’s only a temporary situation, that it’s not too bad, that I’ve survived for years and I’m not dead yet but I can’t do it. Especially not in the middle of the kitchen, not when I’m trying to make a good first impression, not when I‘m so scared, I could breakdown. One word from Puck and everything I’ve worked so hard to keep private will be the subject of public conversation, I can’t have that. I can’t let them know that I’m not brave, that I’m not heroic, that I‘m not daring. I can’t explain that to Kurt, I can’t be a disappointment to him. My dreams seem so much further away when he’s not there. I need him and I need my dreams. If I don’t have them I don’t have anything. I need something to hold onto.

“Oh, Blaine, you can sit next to me.” Kurt says quickly, tapping the wooden seat closest to him as he pushes it out with a booted foot. I automatically take the seat I’m offered, my head still whirling with thoughts, and Kurt pats me softly on the thigh before he smiles reassuringly at me. I know that they’re just tiny gestures but coming from Kurt they mean a lot to me and I’m reminded of why I need to make a good impression here. I’m here tonight because I care very much for Kurt, I care for his happiness, I care for his heart, I care for his eccentricities, I care for every single part of him. Including his flaws, especially his flaws, because they’re Kurt’s flaws and they’re part of what makes him so special. I can’t help but wonder what makes me special.

I look up and across the table as Puck takes a seat opposite me, he seems a little more composed when he’s sitting next to Finn. He looks like his usual self, he’s got his bluster back, he’s nudging his friend with his elbow and he looks cheerful. In response Finn nudges Puck back playfully and tries half-heartedly to stab his friend’s hand with the blunt end of a knife. It’s so adorable, they’re so adorable, I must be smiling now. I must be.

“See how gay this is?” Kurt whispers to me but I don‘t say anything in return because I‘m thinking that, between the both of us, Kurt and I have always been outcasts in one way or another and we’ve never had best friends that are boys. I don’t know if it's normal for two boys to watch Priscilla Queen of The Desert in the dark or if it’s normal for them to constantly be touching as often as Finn and Puck are but does it really matter? In fact, I don’t even know what ‘normal’ means. Don’t people just like to connect with other people, both emotionally and physically? Isn’t that what I live for, isn’t it what we all live for? That little something that tells us that everything is alright? That little reassurance that things aren’t as awful as they seem. Connection is our hope. It’s my only hope.

“Do you like beef?” Carole says, leaning into me slightly as she takes the adjacent chair, the soft scent of jasmine filling my lungs. She calms me by just being there and it‘s slightly overwhelming. She’s sat at the head of the table and Burt is seated opposite her. I can’t help but think it’s like Beauty and the Beast, just on a smaller scale, with the doting couple sitting so far apart over a spectacular dinner. The balance of it is beautiful. Everyone is equal here. Though, I can’t help but wonder how many times this family has eaten dinner together, with Puck, and how many of those times Kurt’s been left sitting next to an empty chair.

“I love beef and it smells delicious.” I offer in reply to her question and Carole smiles so brightly at me that I can’t help but remember her holding me in her arms. The warmth, the love, the perfume. Part of me wants to tell her everything because I know that she‘d be able to take care of me better than anyone else in the world. Better than Puck and even better than Kurt because she‘s a mother and she’s older and she’s wiser and she knows the truth about the world. The world’s had it’s chance to hurt her and so she’d understand how it hurts me sometimes too.

Another part of me just wants to tell Carole that I’ll eat anything she makes for me because we don’t cook at my house and we definitely don’t eat at our table. The only thing our table does is act as a beer bottle collection point. Of course, I don‘t say anything to her, I’m not implicating this wonderful family in my disarray. Not ever. I will not tarnish them with my drama. It’s my hill to climb alone. It’s my problem, it’s my father’s problem. It’s not Carole’s, or Burt’s, or Kurt’s, or Finn’s or Puck’s.

“You’re such a sweetheart.” Carole says tenderly to me as she starts offering the food around, making sure that everyone takes at least two generous slices of the Beef and good amount of vegetables. It’s such a motherly thing to do and I know that my mother would have done it too, if she were here.

I try to take less food than the others because I’m a guest and I don’t want to seem rude or greedy. I don’t want to look like I haven’t had a home cooked meal in two months, even if it’s true, and I don‘t want to look gluttonous and starved. Even though half of my life has been spent with an empty stomach, and I would love nothing more than to tuck into mountains of food in a harmless location, I need to appear acceptable. Wolfing down food isn’t socially agreeable and I have better manners than that anyway. If I’m honest with myself, just being here is filling enough.

“How was school?” Carole asks generally, though she seems to be looking at Kurt and I the most and who could blame her? It’s costing their family a fortune to send Kurt to Dalton Academy everyday. It serves me a harsh reminder: if two adults can barely afford the fees there’s not a chance of me ever paying for it myself. I’ve thought about this and I know that there’s absolutely no way I can do it, of course, I could just go to a regular school but if a wonderful person like Kurt gets ripped to shreds there, what would happen to someone like me?

“School was good,” Finn offers and I’m not jealous that he has no social stigmas attached to him and that he can just go to a regular school, I’m happy for him, “Football practice was awesome today.”

“Oh yeah?” Burt interjects and it’s the first time I’ve heard him speak tonight, it makes me slightly nervous, even though I know that Burt is a lovely man. I generally try to avoid talking to older men unless it’s absolutely necessary, I’m irrationally scared that they’re going to raise their voices and I’ll turn into a weeping muddle of myself. Though, judging by what’s just happened with Puck in the hallway, maybe that fear isn’t as irrational as I believed it was. I’m starting to doubt myself. I can’t do that, that’s what he’d want me to do. He’d want me to question myself and everybody and everything but I can’t. I can’t live like that, who could?

“Seriously, we were so amazing today, Mr H.” Puck offers genuinely and it’s suddenly clear to me that Puck’s not about to mention anything that happened outside this room. I’m so incredibly grateful to him for that and it adds to my theory that Puck is an inherently good person. I’m also grateful that he’s just proven to me that I can talk to Burt like a normal human being without having to work out if I’m close enough to an exit.

“We’ll have to come to your next game.” Burt continues and a father taking this much interest in his step-son’s life, and even Puck’s life, is overwhelming to me. I can’t remember the last time my father asked me how school was or if he could come to one of our performances. I don’t remember the last time we even talked without him shouting at me.

“How about you boys? How was today?” Carole asks looking at Kurt and I and I’m touched that she even included me in the question.

“It was very educational. Not much fun but educational and poor Blaine has been feeling ill all day.” Kurt offers, shooting me a small smile as he bumps our shoulders softly together. I have to close my eyes because it hurts and by the time they’re open again Puck is staring at me in concern once more. He has to stop looking at me like that, it makes my heart pound.

“Are you feeling unwell now?” Carole asks, drawing my attention back to her, she’s looking at me intently and I start to worry then. I worry about her worrying about me and I’m worrying about the bruises on my neck and those hidden under my shirt, “I did wonder why you were eating so little, honey.”

I suddenly feel like an awful person, I feel so ungrateful. I feel like I’m letting people down, though I can’t quite place who those people are. Everything feels a little more intense, everything seems a little more extreme. Even my palms start to sweat.

“I’m feeling better.” I say and I think that maybe I could have sounded a little more convincing but the anxiety that I can feel rising in my chest wouldn’t let me smile. It wouldn’t even let me look at Carole.

Kurt is watching me now, I can feel his eyes burning into me. I can tell he wants to say something but he doesn’t. He holds his tongue and that’s almost enough to make me smile again because not saying what he thinks is hard for Kurt. Very hard.

“You didn’t have to come here tonight if you‘re sick, Blaine.” Carole reassures, as she places her hand on top of mine. I didn’t even know it was on the table. I’m suddenly reminded of Mrs. Hiller and I wonder if I can absorb Carole’s love too. I wonder if I can absorb it through my skin and store it inside of me for when times are so hard that I start questioning myself. I wonder if it’ll make me feel any happier when I get consumed by doubt. I look at her then and her smile is so perfect that my heart breaks. Thank you, Carole, I want to say, thank you so much.

Instead I just nod in reply because I can’t trust my own voice, not after the last time, but Kurt sighs. A big, exaggerated burst of a sigh. A sigh that says you better listen to me and you better listen good. He places his knife and fork down carefully, then he starts, “This is a rare opportunity, I had to bribe you to get him here, Dad. How could he pass that up? It might never happen again?”

I want to tell Kurt to be quiet, that he’s putting himself in danger and then I remember that he’s not. This isn’t my house. I chance a look at Burt and he doesn’t look angry that his son has just spoken to him in such a way and in front of a guest. He looks a little guilty. I didn’t expect that, I look away from him, I’m not used to seeing grown men looking like that.

“Blaine?” Burt starts and now I have to look at him, I have to show him my face, I have to look him in the eye. I’m the person who gave his son so much hope, so much self-belief, I can do this, I know that I can. I look at him and a tiny smile plays on his lips.

“For the record, I think it’s great that you’re finally here.” he starts, “It shouldn’t have taken a broken vase for me to let you come around and I‘m sorry.” I don’t know what to do. He’s apologising to me. I try to imagine my father apologising for everything he’s done but my head can’t even make it up.

“It‘s fine, sir.” I say eventually and Burt shakes his head.

“Non of that. I want you to join us in our home more often, even though it‘s not much, you‘re welcome here. And from now on, you call me Burt. Okay, kid?”

I struggle to process what has just happened. My world seems a little bit brighter and my heart feels a bit lighter. I’m full of hope again, I feel like I can be who I want to be and I wonder if Kurt knows how amazing it is that he has Burt and Carole. I can’t help but wonder if I have finally found myself a place to call my home.

As the night moves on everything seems that little bit easier for me and I finally feel comfortable. I feel like I don‘t have to hide inside myself and I have to give them credit because I haven‘t felt this way in a very long time. I relax and I talk and I smile and Kurt, he keeps looking at me and he looks so happy that I know everything is going well. Even Puck has stopped staring I me and that has to be progress.

I feel like I’ve finally come home.

Kurt’s bedroom is in the basement, I’m pretty sure that could have been unnerving if it hadn’t been decorated so impeccably. It’s surprisingly bright and spacious and everything seems to have an appropriate place because not a single item looks abandoned. I almost feel ashamed of the sheer amount of paper I have scattered around my own room.

It’s not long before we’re sitting on one of Kurt’s two sofa’s and Finn and Puck are on the other. We’re all about to watch a movie together because apparently Kurt has the best television in the house, which doesn’t really surprise me, when has Kurt ever settled for less?

I’m feeling quite tired and the sofa is unnaturally comfortable and so as soon as we’ve decided on a movie to watch I adopt a cushion as a pillow. Before the opening credits even end my eyelids are flickering and I don’t hear a single word of dialogue before I’m asleep. I don’t dream, I just rest.

“I think this is yours.” are the first words I hear when I wake up. It takes a while for me to open my eyes and even longer for me to remember where I am. I’m at Kurt’s house. My eyes shoot open, what time is it? I have to go home. I look around frantically for a clock only to come face to face with Puck. He’s staring at me and he’s on his knees, waving something in my face. I can’t tell what it is at first because the room is a lot darker than it was and I’m still in the haze of sleep.

“I know it’s yours.” He tries again as he holds the item incredibly still. It’s enough for my eyes to finally adjust to it. I take it in and then I start to freak out. It’s a small container of concealer, which looks suspiciously like the one that was in my pocket.

My brain is screaming at me to get up and leave. I know that I can avoid this confrontation. I can get out of the basement and I can run away. I’m about to leap off the sofa and sprint up the stairs when it dawns on me. I suddenly remember that this is Kurt’s room, the very same Kurt who has a moisturising regime and goes on spa days with the girls. There’s not a doubt in my mind that Kurt would have concealer knocking around.

“It must be Kurt’s.” I say and I know my voice is shaking, I know, and I know that my eyes must be huge. I look around the dimly light room, Kurt and Finn are both asleep.

“Really?” Puck starts and I want him to leave me alone and stop talking, “Because I found it right next to your feet and I know those bruises weren’t on your neck at dinner.” I grab at my own neck and wrap my hands around it, this can’t be happening to me, this can’t unravel, not now, not now I’ve found a solution to hiding all of those disgusting marks.

Oh god, he can’t find out how weak I am, my chest is pounding, my head is throbbing and I can’t breathe. My lungs won’t let enough air in. I should never have gotten so comfortable, I should have been more careful, I shouldn’t have been so damn happy tonight.

I know that this has to be some cruel trick of fate, this is probably a sign that I can never be happy but I won’t believe that. I won’t because I can be someone, I can, can’t I? Oh god. What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing? Get up.

I push past Puck and race towards the stairs and I know that I must be crying because I can feel the tears running down my face now. I look back at Kurt sleeping peacefully and a sob escapes me as I stand on the first step. I’m so sorry, Kurt, I’m so, so sorry. I can’t stay. I can’t upset you, I can’t let you see that I’m not strong, that I’m not brave, that I’m not courageous. I’m sorry I lied, I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

“Stop!” Puck whispers harshly as he wraps his hands around my arms and turns me around on the spot. He’s much stronger than I expected and in that moment it scares me. His fingers are digging into old bruises and I freeze, I freeze because it hurts and in my head I can see my father pushing me around again. I don’t want it to hurt anymore, I just want to live, is that too much to ask? Can’t I just be happy?

I need to get out of here, the room is getting smaller and his grip is getting tighter and silent sobs are absolutely shaking my body now. All I can think about is how much of a fool I’m making of myself and how embarrassing and stupid and pathetic and useless I am. Sobbing like a baby because of a few stupid bruises. My head starts to spin.

“Please, let me go?” I whisper and he looks torn before he complies and releases my arms. I have a chance, I can escape and I’m going to. Until Puck grabs my hands and holds them tightly down so I can‘t push him away from me. He looks so sad and this is why no one was ever supposed to know. No one. I don’t need people’s pity, I don‘t need Puck‘s pity. I’m okay. I’m okay, I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay! I can handle this, it isn’t too much, is it? It can’t be too much. Please, don’t be too much, I don’t know how much more I can stand. My heart beat pounds in my head and my breathing is so shallow I‘m surprised I‘m still standing.

“That hurt you and I‘m sorry.” Puck says and I don’t know what to do, I feel like a child, I feel like a stupid, insignificant little boy. I feel like my father is here. Oh god.

“Please, just let me go home.” I beg softly and he shakes his head and his eyes alone tell me there’s no way that’s happening, not without a fight. I can’t fight anymore, I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired of fighting. I’m tired of bleeding and crying and hurting and I just want it to stop. Just stop.

“I can’t let you go home.” Puck says and I’m still crying and it’s frustrating and annoying and I must be so frustrating and annoying. What must Puck think? No. I turn my face away from him then because who wants to see someone like this? Who wants to see a boy their own age with tears and bruises and snot and sweat running down him. I’m so cowardly, I’m so repellent. I make myself sick.

“Why wont you just let me go?” I ask and I still wont look at him. I can’t bring myself to do it. Even though his grip has loosened I still can’t look him in the eye, or push him away or be not a little bit afraid of him.

“Because he’ll hurt you, Blaine.” Puck says and my heart skips a beat, I can feel it because it’s the same time that it hits the bottom of my stomach and I want to be sick. Is it that obvious? Am I that stupidly obvious? Is everything I’ve tried so hard to hide so fucking obvious?

“No.” is all I can say and I don’t even know why anymore. I don’t know anything anymore. I feel like my whole world has fallen apart. It was never supposed to be like this. Never.

“Blaine, you should have told someone.” He tries and I just shake my head. I’m a mess.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I say and part of me wants to look at him and tell him everything because I might feel better and I might be able to tell the truth to one single person in the whole world but I can’t. I can’t.

“I know more than you think.” I look at him then, what does that mean? He bites his lip and I see it then, I see that he is crying too.

“Look, Blaine, just come back down here and we’ll talk. We’ll cover that mess on your neck back up and we’ll just talk. I won‘t tell him.” Puck pleads and I can’t do anything other than stare into his eyes, they’re full of truth and honesty and hope. Hope. I thought hope was gone?

“I won’t tell Kurt, that’s not my business, alright, but you have to stay here. Deal?” Part of me still wants to run.

“Why?” I ask and it’s much harder to talk to him when I’m looking at him, it’s so much harder that I almost don‘t.

“Because you can’t walk all the way home, okay?” I just nod. I just nod and as he releases my hands I reach out to him. He’s seen me like this and he still cares and I can’t help myself. I can’t help but reach out to the boy who looks so hurt. I cry. I cry so hard I think my head might explode but I never make a single sound because I can’t wake Kurt. I can’t.

“I know. It’s okay.” He whispers and as I stand with my head on his shoulder a part of me sets itself free because someone knows now and they don’t hate me and they care and they just want to help.

Eventually Puck manages to manoeuvre me to Kurt’s ensuite bathroom and I feel like an idiot when we close the door over and he turns the light on. It blinds my eyes and they feel swollen and sore. I feel so stupid that I want to just crawl into the cupboard under the sink and hide. Until I see Puck and I realise that his eyes are red and puffy too.

“When did he do it?” Puck asks and I know that it makes no difference to the situation but I can’t deny him anything in this moment because he promised not to tell Kurt and that means everything to me. Everything. Tears fill my eyes again and I’m feeling over emotional.

“Hey, it’s okay. We can fix it.” He says as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the concealer, he twists the lid and coats his finger tips before he starts touching my neck. He starts around the back and it hurts but not nearly enough for me to ask him to stop. He’s about half way done when it happens.

A tiny Oh my god echoes from somewhere in the darkness behind Puck and I know, I just know that it‘s Kurt. I do the only thing I can think of. I turn away from him. I have never felt so desolate. I have never felt so alone, things can never be the same again.

Everything we had has gone.