By the time Blaine reaches Kurt’s floor Jeff’s yells have faded away, but they’ve been replaced by the increasingly hysterical cries of his best friend.

Peter Blaine thought, I’ll kill him.

“What am I supposed to tell my family, Pete?! It feels like this show is basically all I have to keep my mind off things! And you know better than anyone how much that’s worth,” Kurt’s voice breaks on the other side of the door, “My dad feels awful enough already. If he knew about this he would literally try hunt you down and kill you if he could, ”

Not if I get there first, Blaine thinks.

“Thanks Pete, How sensitive” Kurt says, his sarcasm biting, “No! I don’t want to talk about this! I don’t want to talk about anything with you anymore! I should’ve known, right from the start that you’d leave me, in whatever this sick thing that we have really is to you.”

Blaine wanted nothing more than to wretch the door open, but the last thing he needed was an offended Kurt as a result of his eavesdropping.

“Don’t even try to deny it, Pete! Just- no. I’m done talking,” Blaine could hear tears rising is Kurt’s throat, “I’ll figure things out myself! Just leave me alone.”

There a long silence as Blaine realizes how creepy he’s acting. He wants to turn around and go back to his room, but he can’t leave Kurt words echoing so terribly defeated.

“That’s not an excuse.” Kurt’s voice is exasperated as it begins to diminish, “I know, I know,” And Kurt’s retracting, his voice rising to a sob “I’m so sorry. I know I’m being selfish, but I can’t do this without you. Not any of it,” and Kurt’s sounding increasingly apologetic.

“I understand, but please reconsider. I’m sorry.”

There’s a brief silence.

“You too. We’ll talk tomorrow,” and now Blaine’s about to rip the door off it’s hinges because whatever horrible thing Peter’s done, Kurt has already forgiven him. What lie could he have come up with to allay Kurt that quickly?!

Instead he settles for a knock on the door.

“Don’t come in,” Kurt sniffles, his breath heavy and uneven, “I, Uh- I’m naked!” and that’s an image Blaine was not prepared for.

“Kurt,” He says softly, and he can hear the boy’s breathing slow when he knows it’s Blaine outside the door, “I know you’re not,” he concedes.

There’s a whimper from the other side of the door and Blaine’s sure its an invitation to enter.

He opens the door to find a crumpled figure sitting on the edge of Kurt’s bed. His eyes are staring into his lap, one leg hanging over the side of the bed. His other leg pulled in beside him, criss-cross applesauce style over it’s brother. His arms are wrapped tightly around himself, as if he were clutching something very small to his stomach.

Blaine steps into the room, cautious in approaching his seemingly shattered friend. The sound of the door clicking shut reaches Kurt’s ears and he launches himself off the bed and into Blaine’s arms.

Suddenly his sobs are unrestrained as he clings to Blaine’s middle. Kurt was naturally a bit taller than Blaine, but as he held Kurt close the boy felt staggeringly diminutive.

The shoulder of Blaine’s blazer was growing wet from Kurt’s tears, but he barely even noticed. He shook with the repercussions of the sobs that wracked Kurt’s delicate frame. Blaine whispered an endless string of senseless consolation into the boy’s ear while Kurt adhered so tightly to Blaine that it seemed there was not even air between them.

“…It’s alright, shhh, I’m here, K. I’m right here…”

Kurt’s weeping seemed to be dwindling as he hiccupped and caught his breath shakily into Blaine’s shoulder, his breathing still dreadfully jagged. He reluctantly slackened his hold on Blaine’s waist, now just holding on tightly, snuggling his face into his friend’s neck.

“Blaine?” his voice was unbearably defeated. It shuddered with self-deprecating pity, “Do you think I’m” the words emerged from his throat grudgingly, “Selfish?” his voice finally shattered across Blaine’s skin, as he felt a warm tear slide between Kurt’s cheek and his collarbone.
Blaine guided Kurt’s face in front of his.

“Of course not,” he said in disbelief, a hand on either side of the broken boy’s face. Kurt’s eyes were glassy and searching, as if he refused to consider that to be true.

“Kurt,” his name on Blaine’s lips felt weighted. It no longer felt like simply a word, it felt like a promise. “You are so incredibly selfless. It hides behind the exterior of sarcasm that has become your only option against the cruelty that the world has shown you.” He says, brushing a tear from Kurt’s cheek. Suddenly Kurt’s hands are leaving Blaine’s back, and it feels as if he’s learning to stand on his own.

“It may be difficult to see all the love you feel for your family, and for your friends when you’ve been forced to put up a wall” Suddenly Kurt’s hands are reaching up to cover Blaine’s, still settled on his cheeks. “But I’ve seen it,” he assures his friend with a smile, “Rachel, Mercedes, Finn,” a reluctant smile tugs at Kurt’s lips, “They’ve seen it,” and surprisingly it reaches his eyes, “Carole, Burt…”

Kurt’s face suddenly contorts as he let out a despondent cry. He leans into Blaine, relying on the boy to support him.

Finally when Kurt calms down, Blaine slides his hands down, guiding Kurt’s as well away from the boy’s face. He decides it’s appropriate that he not let go. He links his fingers instinctively with Kurt’s.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Blaine asks tenderly.

Kurt gives a small nod but doesn’t say a word.

“Do you want to go somewhere? The Seniors Commons should be empty for a few hours before the faculty meeting…”

In place of a reply, Kurt pulls Blaine by the hand toward the bed by the window.

~.~*~.~

Blaine was suddenly met with a situation he thought he’d never face. He lied in the bed that belonged to the object of his affections, Kurt cuddled into his dress shirt. The boy lied with his arms tucked between the two of them, rolling Blaine’s button between his fingers.

They had elected to discard their shoes and blazers, slipping under Kurt’s comforter, because the dorms at Dalton were absolutely freezing until about April.

“Blaine?” Kurt breathed into the fabric.

Blaine hummed gently in response.

“Is it ok? I-if I stay here for a while. Before we talk?” The question was loaded with so much more than a plea for solace. There were questions and wishes woven thick within Kurt’s words.

Blaine considered the deeper meaning of Kurt’s question, trusting himself to control the part of his brain that wanted to simply stay in this moment forever. He barely considered the other option. He knew for sure now that he would never say no.

“Of course,”

~.~*~.~

This will ruin everything. Kurt thought, enveloped in the warmth of his best friend. Why did Blaine, of all people, have to hear that? I can’t just leave him without any explanation.

Kurt volleyed the idea of telling Blaine the truth around in his head. That is, he tried to decide just how much of the truth he would be wise to divulge.

He resolved finally to tell him simply the truth about his meeting with Peter, just enough to help Blaine understand his plight now. He decided not to say a word about making the other boy jealous. The very notion of that conversation was mortifying, and Kurt thought that maybe it’d be best to never tell him, to convince himself it was all just a silly dream he’d had on one of those numerous nights he’d spent alone in this very bed. When he’d spoken with Peter that very same morning the last place he thought he’d end up was clinging to his gorgeous soloist of a best friend, but it was far better than the place he actually imagined he’d be. In this same bed, limbs crusted with the cold as he turned in on himself.

Maybe Blaine would understand. Maybe I don’t need Peter.