~
“Who even is this guy?” Kurt frowned, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck, “He’d better be pretty damn incredible.”
Rachel smiled, knowingly, buttoning her horrendously clashing jacket against the cool, icy air, “Oh, he’s worth it. Trust me.”
Kurt just rolled his eyes, crossing his arms agitatedly, he was not happy, not happy at all. Rachel had dragged him into Westerville, on a Sunday, so early that the sun had barely risen, babbling frantically about the ‘perfect guy’ who he simply had to meet. Well as far as he was concerned, not even Patti LuPone herself was important enough to get out of bed at this time for.
“Let me check your hair!” she said, beaming as if she could barely contain her excitement.
“Why are you checking my hair?” he muttered, staring down at his best friend darkly, “He’s your guy…”

Now it was Rachel’s turn to look confused, her eyes questioning. “Why would I have brought you, if this was about me? Kurt, this is about you. He’s perfect for you.”

Kurt’s face fell, hands gripping her arms, as if he wanted to shake her violently.
“So, this is a set up?” Rachel nodded, smiling smugly. Gently, she pushed him in the direction they had been travelling in.
“Now, before you say anything, or hurt me, for that matter, take one good look at him, and tell me you’re not in love. Please.”

Kurt opened his mouth to protest, eyes wide in complete bewilderment, but Rachel simply smiled, kissing him on the cheek, then skipping off in the opposite direction.

“Rachel Berry. Where the hell are you going? Don’t you dare leave me here!” he yelled as she disappeared through a side door. She had definitely been here before.

A second later his phone buzzed, he dragged it out of his jacket pocket, eyes narrowing when he saw it was from Rachel.

‘Gone to get coffee, be back in ten. Let yourself in.’

Kurt guessed he ought to be relieved, but he was overwhelmed by the urge to murder the diva there and then. He was going to kill her.

Frantically, he tried to remember which door she had disappeared into, but failed, left with only one option. The big, red double doors loomed infront of him, luring him inside. He sighed deeply. Surely just one look at this guy wouldn’t hurt.

He walked tentatively into the rink, the cold air flushing his cheeks a rosy pink. The ice was clear and untouched, the reflection of the electronic lights bouncing off it blindingly. Slowly, he sat down on one of the hard plastic chairs, checking anxiously for the guy Rachel was talking about. Seeing no one, he relaxed slightly, sitting back on his chair and sighing deeply, he guessed he might as well wait here. He had nothing better to do.

All of a sudden, music erupted from the overhead speakers, the first haunting chords of Christina Perri’s, Jar of Hearts ringing out. Kurt jumped, physically flinching in shock, as a girl skated gracefully out onto the ice. She was beautiful. Her white, floaty dress spread out behind her as she glided along, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. She flew past Kurt, so fast he barely even saw her face, but as he did, he saw the slightly bemused expression that was painted there. She extended her arms, even such simple movements conveying such emotion, as she span slowly. Kurt gazed, unable to tear his eyes away.

Then, the girls partner skated out to join her, and Kurt’s jaw hit the floor, his eyes wide, his mouth dry, his heart drumming at a hundred miles per hour. Sure, the girl may have been stunning, but she looked plain, boring almost as she moved with the boy. Effortlessly, he scooped her up, lifting her up above his head, then flipping her down just as easily, his toned body obvious through his red, v-neck shirt. He skated backwards, lazily, zig-zagging round to where Kurt was perched, literally on the edge of his seat. Their eyes met for a moment, warm hazel on blue, and Kurt couldn’t look away. Instead, he found himself tracing the line of his jawbone, his hips and legs in those black trousers, the curve of his lips as they curled into a winning smirk. Neither boy looked away, the burning eye contact seemed to last for hours, Kurt gazing longingly, the stranger so caught up in his eyes, that when he did look away, it was because he had crashed into the barrier, wobbling slightly, losing his balance.

The music stopped abruptly, the blonde haired girl taking one unimpressed look at her partner, then quickly stepped off the rink, rolling her emerald coloured eyes.  Kurt couldn’t help but grin. The boy had picked himself up, brushing the ice shards from his cotton shirt, blushing slightly. Kurt bit his lip, fighting the urge to laugh.

It was then that Rachel decided to make her appearance, crashing through the doors, with a coffee in each hand. If nothing else, that girl knew how to make a entrance, Kurt would give her that.

 “Blaine, honey…” she grinned, “I’m home.”

The boy with the dark ringlets, chuckled, skating up to the barrier where she was stood, even though he was a good ten meters away, Kurt’s heart still skipped a beat.

“Would you mind, dearest cousin,” he whispered, for her ears only, “explaining who that is?”

She grinned, her usual smug, satisfied smirk, “That's Kurt Hummel.”

Blaine’s eyes lit up, “Nice name,” he beamed, then stepping off the rink to join her, he added, “even nicer face.”

—
“Me and Evie have been skating together for six years…” Blaine smiled grimly, answering Kurt’s polite question, “that doesn’t necessarily mean I like her very much.”

 
Evie shot daggers at him with her eyes, ignoring her, he went to sit down next to Kurt. The taller boy’s stomach flipped, breath hitching in his throat, close up Blaine was even more perfect, flawless olive skin and wild, black curls. As he sat, his arm, by habit, snaked onto the armrest so it was flush with Kurt’s, skin on skin, fingertips brushing. Kurt tried very hard to breathe normally, failing each time.

He reached to his right, where Rachel sat, in a heated arguement with Evie, who seemed to have produced another bottle of Mountain Dew from nowhere, and grabbed his cup of coffee. Bringing it to his lips, he took a deep sip, trying to calm his senses, but it was hardly working when he had the perfect human being sat by his side, causing sparks of electricity to run down his arm each time he moved.

“Kurt’s been having… problems at school, kind of like what happened to you, Blaine.” Rachel said, sadly, perking up a bit when her cousin, unknown to the chesnut haired boy infront of him, started mouthing frantically behind his back. Something along the lines of, ‘why have you never introduced him?’ and ‘he’s… gorgeous’. Rachel giggled, and Kurt glared at her, reproachfully.

“I’m glad you find it so funny,” he grimaced, “I’m no-”

“I don’t find it funny in the least, Kurt.” Blaine said solemly, looking deep into his startled, sea blue eyes. Seeing the unshed tears that shone there, he instinctively grabbed Kurt’s hand, squeezing it tightly, “I know exactly what you’ve been through.”

Kurt swallowed loudly, his heart fluttering in his chest so ferociously he swore Blaine could hear it.

“It’s not easy,” the older boy continued, “you’ve just got to try to stay strong Kurt. For your family. For Rachel… For me.”

Kurt didn’t look up, suddenly ashamed of how he was acting, he was having a breakdown infront of a complete stranger. Still, he couldn’t stop the tears falling silently down his cheekbones. Blaine brushed them away absentmindedly with the tips of his fingers. Blaine looked from Kurt, to Rachel, then Evie, and back to Kurt again.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he whispered in the other boy’s ear, “Alone…”
Kurt nodded, allowing himself to be led gently outside the rink, back outside to the corridor that had started everything. The raven haired boy slid down the plain, white wall, sprawling out on the cheap lino and patting the space next to him, indicating that Kurt should sit too. Slightly nervously, he sank to the floor, trying to do so gracefully in an attempt to retain any dignity and respect from Blaine he still had left.

“Now look at me…” he murmured softly, cupping Kurt’s face with one hand, and turning it, so their eyes met properly again, “I know that it might seem bad, like there is nothing worth anything anymore, and that the world is against you, but you’ve got to remember, Kurt, tomorrow is a new day, you can start fresh, put yesterday behind you. And those bullies? They may seem big and tough now, but one day, you’ll be the one in charge, in control. The tables will turn, I promise you.” Kurt sniffled rather unattractively, and Blaine found himself marvelling at how adorable each and every one of his movements were. Blaine took both of Kurt’s slender hands in his, running his thumb over the silky skin on his palm.

“But in return, you’ve got to promise me something. You’ve got to promise that you’ll talk to someone whenever something happens. It’s important that you don’t run, or hide, you’ve got to stay put, make a stand.”
Blaine pulled a purple Sharpie from his trouser pocket, posistioning Kurt’s arm, then scrawling a series of huge numbers on the porcelian skin, so he had permenant marker up to his elbow.
“This is my mobile number, it’s on 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. You are free, infact I insist that you call anytime they get you down, be it morning, evening or middle of the night, I’m here if no one else is. And any time you want, come and visit me here, I’m here everyday, 7 through ‘til 5 and if you don’t, I’ll visit you.”

“W-Why are you… being so nice to me?” Kurt managed to splutter, his head spinning.

“Because I’ve been where you are, and I know it’s not a happy place. You need someone else, anyone else to help you through it. Also because that face of your’s is far too pretty to risk breaking.”