Blaine's house.

It was big. Like really big. It was nothing he would have expected from the boy.

It had taken a little over half an hour to find it with the address given to him. Of course the fact that he walked here didn't help to speed things up.

But that was just it. He didn't want to rush getting here. To be honest, he was terrified. Not because of Blaine's appearance, or the rumors that followed him everywhere he went, but because he didn't know what would happen if he went inside. This could still be a trap. This might not be Blaine's house. He might've written a fake address and when he knocked on the door the person who lived there would think he was crazy and call the cops.

Ok he knew that that probably wouldn't happen but he couldn't stop his mind from swarming with ideas on why Blaine would invite him to his house. There were only a couple of good reasons. But as the time went by they kept getting crazier, but they were still possibilities. Unlike usual, the walk hadn't soothed his mind, and he had almost turned around too many times to count, but then he remembered the chance that maybe Blaine was here, he wanted to see him, and maybe, just maybe, the could be sort of friends. If he was lucky. And, well... when was he ever lucky?

Just ring the damn bell. He did.

There was silence for a few minutes and Kurt was ready to turn away (an empty house was also one of the possibilities his mind created) but then there were a few footsteps from inside. Kurts' heart picked up. Either it was Blaine or some stranger, but either thought made it happen anyway. The door opened and he let out a breath. Blaine was here. This was Blaine's house unless he is just here and then he'll invite you again but it'll be a joke and he'll be in his house and you'll look like a fool here next time. Kurt mentally shook his head. Blaine wouldn't do that, right? But really he didn't know the boy at all, who is he to say that?

Blaine leaned on the doorway, shamelessly raking his eyes over Kurts' form and smirking. Blaine looked mostly like he did at school, he was wearing a tight white tee-shirt and red pants, but Kurt didn't have time to look long, as Blaine turned back around with a "Well come on, babe. Don't wanna stand out here the whole time."

Kurt followed Blaine through the house and up the stairs with his eyes down. Blaine opened a door at the end of a hallway and the taller boy walked in after him. The door was slammed shut behind him and he was pushed into it. Kurt closed his eyes and prepared his body for the blows, but then there were lips on his and he was too shocked to move. They were slightly rough but moist so they moved fluently over his still ones. When the lips moved away, Kurt's eyes fluttered open -when had he shut them?- and he took the moment to open his eyes and look at the boy in front of him, but he didn't get the chance to as Blaine quickly moved in again.

The shock was still there, but in a slightly less way, but he still had no idea what to do. He didn't know how to kiss someone, or even if he was enjoying what was happening, so he let Blaine's lips guide his own. After a few moments, he started moving his mouth on its own, in what he hoped was the right way.

He felt hands come up to hold his face, and it was almost like a switch saying This is real. This is happening! And he started to worry again. What if he was doing this all wrong? What if all this was still a joke (yes that was still a possibility to him) He would walk into school tomorrow and everyone would laugh at him and throw him into lockers and shove him to the floor. He wo-

His thought process was halted when Blaine's tongue licked under his top lip  and they fell open in shock as well as pleasure. Just as things were getting even more heated (was that even possible? Kurt's skin felt like it was on fire.) The sound of a door opening made Blaine pull back and remove his hands from Kurt's face. His eyes were looking across Kurts', and he started to feel extremely self-conscious. This is where he tells me I was horrible. That I need to leave so he can clean his mouth with bleach and never look at me again. Of course that wasn't what happened.

There was the sound of something plopping loudly downstairs, and then there were heavy footsteps on the stairs and oh god oh god oh- he was pushed aside gently- but quickly- seconds before the door opened to a tall man that looked much like Blaine, except his dark hair was gelled professionally and was greying on the edges, his green eyes narrowed and looked over at the unfamiliar boy, then turned angry quickly.

Kurt's eyes were wide as the man turned back to the shorter boy "How many damn times, Blaine," he spat before turning to Kurt "get out of my house you faggot." And Kurt hurried out of the room, trying to get out of any further confrontation from the man and hoping that he wouldn't follow behind him.

He found himself worrying for Blaine, hoping that nothing bad happened to him, because he may not know him much at all, and he might be rude, no one deserved that.

His weekend was resolutely quiet. Because while his father worried for him and wanted to be sure nothing happened again, it was still awkward. Kurt couldn't blame him, everything was awkward in his life. He made it this way, and while he was accustomed to live with what he did himself, he hated to drag others into his mess. Especially his father.

The quiet left him to think. Thinking about his past, Blaine, the kiss (he was still so confused about what had happened with that), and whether him and his father had gotten into an argument, and how things turned out. He fervently wished that Blaine wasn't hurt, but he knew those things didn't always turn out the way you wanted them to, and for some people, the fact that you are family didn't automatically mean love was free- flowing and endless.

All the worrying kept his mind from focusing on doing anything else for long, whether it be reading  or drawing or even sleeping, trying to at least. Because now the angry face of Blaine's father was added to his long list of nightmares that plagued his mind and kept him from sleeping more than a few hours at a time.

He found himself wanting to call Blaine and ask if he was okay, but he didn't have his number, which was good, because if he had his number Blaine would have his and he would give it to his friends and his phone would once again be filled with threats and derogatory comments at all hours.

He didn't want to deal with all that again.

At 5pm he gave up and let his mind fill with thoughts and worries.

At 10 he took his medicine and laid down to sleep

At around 10:30 thoughts were numbed and almost forgotten as he slowly drifted to sleep.

Then at 6 he woke again, forcing himself to face the dreary day left before him.