It was a strange feeling going to bed that night knowing that Blaine was no longer curled up in multiple layers in his pitiful bed in the attic. It was a good kind of strange, though, one that made Kurt feel warm on the inside and kept a smile on his face. He imagined it would take Blaine a while to get used to it all - before he had bid his boyfriend goodnight he had witnessed him automatically heading back up into the attic before he remembered that he no longer needed to go up there, that he lived down in the house now; that moment of realisation had brought tears to Kurt's eyes.

He knew Blaine still had a long way to go to recover enough from his past to be able to live his life to the fullest again, but right now Kurt felt on top of the world, like he could achieve absolutely anything. He had Blaine out of the attic and he couldn't be more ecstatic; he was riding a buzz that made him feel like pure euphoria was fizzing in his nerves and veins.

Admittedly, the day hadn't gone off without a hitch; Finn's reaction had put a bit of a damper on things, though not quite enough to stop the rush of ecstasy at having Blaine now live in the main part of the house. Thinking of Finn caused anger to bubble up inside him. It had been a sharp slap in the face to know how most people would view Blaine and how much harder things would be now that Blaine was no longer a secret in the attic he could protect.

A quick glance at the clock on his nightstand revealed it was getting late, so Kurt rolled over in his bed until he was curled on his side and tried to shove down all his plans and worries and fears so that he could get some sleep; tomorrow was looking like it would be a difficult day.

As the days passed, Blaine began to settle into his new life, much to Kurt's delight. He still spent most of his time by Kurt's side, but he was slowly becoming more comfortable with being in the kitchen and living room without him, which was a relief since Kurt still had a week of school left before winter break and his dad had only allowed him to take Monday off. Blaine's increasing ease with his new lifestyle didn't stop Kurt from being stressed and on-edge during the school day, counting down the minutes until the final bell. He had told Rachel about Blaine meeting his family on Tuesday morning and she pressed him for all the details until he got annoyed and snapped at her. He regretted it later during Glee club when she pointedly sat on the opposite side of the choir room from him, and everyone else - after a few failed attempts to get him to join in with their cheerful, excited performances of Christmas songs - ignored him and laughed and joked around him, seeming not to notice the tension between him and Finn. Kurt ended up leaving early, unable to join in with upbeat singing and dancing when he was so worried about Blaine.

By Thursday, Blaine was noticeably more comfortable around Carole. He chatted happily to her during meals and Kurt had come home from school to find the pair of them making dinner together, a sight that had immediately erased all his tension from the school day. Carole was doting on Blaine, treating him like he was another one of her sons, giving him extra portions after she declared he was too skinny. She'd gone out and bought all the clothes Blaine had picked out on the internet, and the trying on of outfits that followed had brought the two closer together.

It was a different story with Burt, though. Blaine refused to be alone with him and would stick close to Kurt's side whenever he was in the same room as them. Burt was keeping a respectful distance, and after Blaine had flinched violently when he shouted at Finn to pick up his muddy shoes one time, he was careful not to raise his voice around him.

Finn was hardly ever home these days and avoided both Kurt and Blaine whenever he was, which suited Kurt just fine; it was probably for the best. His first proper encounter with Finn since his step-brother had met Blaine came after dinner on Thursday evening when Kurt went down to the kitchen to make some coffee.

He entered the kitchen to find Finn sitting at the table, drinking chocolate milk and eating some equally unhealthy snack to go along with it. He froze when he spotted Finn there; he didn't know whether to turn around and leave before a shouting match started or to just ignore his step-brother. For a second their eyes met, and then everything Finn had said about Blaine came rushing back. Kurt's eyes hardened and his jaw tightened and he looked away, striding over to the counter and starting to make his coffee.

Tension filled the kitchen, hanging heavy in the air like a thick, invisible cloud. It was silent except for the clattering as Kurt made his drink, working a little louder than usual. He scowled as he banged his mug down on the counter and slammed the cupboard door shut.

"Kurt?" Finn said tentatively.

Ignoring him, Kurt rattled through the cutlery drawer until he found a teaspoon and then he shoved the drawer shut again with a loud thud. He clenched his jaw as he determinedly ignored Finn's presence. He heard Finn's chair scraping on the floor a little as he probably shifted uncomfortably, burning holes into Kurt's back with his glare.

"Kurt," Finn repeated, louder this time.

Gritting his teeth, Kurt drummed his fingers on the countertop in a loud, relentless rhythm. He knew he was being irritating and even a bit rude, but he really didn't care; Finn deserved it.

Finn's chair scraped against the tiled floor again. "Kurt, just hear me out will you?"

Kurt stopped drumming his fingers and gripped the edge of the countertop instead, his body tensing with anticipation of the harshness of Finn's words. "I really don't want to hear you insult Blaine again, Finn," he told him shortly, keeping his eyes fixed on the coffee brewing in front of him.

"I just-" Finn began hastily.

Reaching for the coffee pot, Kurt gripped the counter with his free hand so tightly his knuckles turned white. "I don't want to hear it."

Finn remained silent as Kurt poured his coffee, added milk, and stirred it, the sound of the teaspoon hitting the sides of the mug amplified in the silent kitchen. The tension built as the seconds ticked by, growing like the string of a violin pulled tighter and tighter until Kurt couldn't stand it anymore and it suddenly snapped. He slammed his mug down just as he had been about to take a sip and spun around to face Finn.

"How could you say those things?" he demanded, practically spitting the words at him. "How could you want Blaine thrown out on the street or sent to some shelter after everything he's been through?"

Finn wasn't backing down easily. "And what exactly has he been through?" he replied angrily. "Do you even know?"

Kurt scowled at him. "Yes, I know and it isn't my business to tell; if Blaine wants you to know then he'll tell you."

Finn's eyes narrowed. "How do you know he's telling the truth?"

Rolling his eyes, Kurt folded his arms across his chest. "This again?" he sighed in exasperation. "How do you know if anyone is telling the truth? I trust him, Finn."

"Well, I don't."

"Says the person who believed he got his ex-girlfriend pregnant when he hadn't even had sex with her," Kurt snarked.

Face flushing an angry, dark red, Finn shoved his nearly empty glass away from him and for a moment he just glared at Kurt. "It's just weird," he said eventually. "Would you let any homeless person off the street into the house?" A triumphant glint appeared in his eyes when Kurt gaped speechlessly at him. "What's so special about this guy?" he added.

"What's so special about him?" Kurt repeated.

Everything. He's filled the empty space inside me that I didn't even really realise was there until I met him.

That answer came to him easily enough, but he couldn't tell Finn that. "He's-"

Finn raised an eyebrow, obviously thinking Kurt was unable to answer his question.

Kurt ran a hand through his hair, something he only ever did out of extreme frustration or weariness, and right now it was a combination of both. "He's a boy the same age as us who was abused by his parents and now has no home. How would you feel if that was you and everyone who met you never gave you a chance and just wanted to dump you out in the streets or turn you in to the police?"

Looking a bit guilty, Finn prodded at his glass, pushing it across the table in small movements. "I just don't understand why you kept it a secret for so long. He was living in our house!"

"I told you, he didn't want me to tell anyone. He was scared, and after seeing how you reacted I know why," Kurt shot back. "And keeping it a secret wasn't exactly hard when I'm home alone most days." Shaking his head, Kurt turned away from Finn's stare and picked his coffee back up. "You like to make-out that you're this friendly, likeable, easy-going guy, Finn, but you're really not. You had no problem with Blaine until you found out about his living situation." He began to leave the kitchen, walking passed the table where Finn sat frozen in his seat, still staring at Kurt. He wasn't about to spend his evening arguing with Finn.

He paused and turned back to say one last thing. "I really thought you'd changed from the guy who used to throw me in dumpsters, but you still judge and stereotype people you don't even know." Finn's face was unreadable as Kurt shook his head again and finished in a quieter voice, "You haven't changed at all."

Kurt turned away to leave, feeling exhausted and seriously doubting any coffee would be enough to keep him awake. He was almost at the door when Finn spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Kurt froze and then spun slowly to face his step-brother.

Finn hesitated momentarily upon seeing Kurt's hard stare. "You're right, I don't even know Blaine, I have no right to argue with you over whether he should be allowed to stay or not and I shouldn't have been so quick to make assumptions about the kind of person he was." He shifted slightly in his chair. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

Kurt continued to stare silently at Finn, refusing to soften despite the genuinely apologetic and guilty expression on Finn's face. "It's not me you should be apologising to," he said finally, his voice cold and level. Leaving Finn with that, he left the kitchen.

The one thing that Blaine still felt really uncomfortable doing even after almost a week of living in the house was going to the bathroom when everyone else was asleep. His room was the only one that didn't have access to an en suite bathroom, so he had to use the one down the hall. This meant walking around the house in the dark. It reminded him so much of sneaking down from the attic to steal food from the kitchen, back before he could go down during the day when they were all out - tiptoeing along the dark hallway, holding his breath in case a floorboard creaked under his weight, easing the door open and praying the hinges didn't squeak.

These days he wasn't trying to be as silent as possible so he wouldn't be caught, he was doing it because he really didn't want to wake anyone up. He still felt like a guest in their home and he knew he would feel that way for a while to come, and he would feel rude and extremely guilty if he woke any of them up.

It was well after midnight and everyone had gone to bed at least an hour ago. He had tried to resist, laying in bed for ages willing himself to fall asleep, but the need eventually became too much to ignore and he was forced to get up and tiptoe across his bedroom, ease the door open just enough to slip through, and creep down the silent hall to the bathroom.

He braced himself before he flushed the toilet, wincing at the thunderous noise it made. Sure he had just woken the entire household up, he padded shamefully over to the sink to wash his hands, not needing to worry about the sound of the water rushing out the faucet when it was masked by the obnoxiously loud toilet. Holding his breath, he peered out the bathroom into the hall, expecting to hear someone tossing restlessly in bed or grumbling about being woken, but all was still silent.

Feeling relieved, he began to tiptoe back to bed when a sudden sound broke the sleepy silence: a small yelp of pain that seemed to come from Kurt's room. He froze in the middle of the hallway, halfway between the bathroom and his bedroom, and stared in the direction it had come from, straining his ears to hear anything else. When a few seconds ticked by and he heard nothing else, he frowned and hesitated, and then set off down the hall towards Kurt's room, still listening for any further sound, wondering if he had maybe imagined the noise or if it had come from outside.

Kurt's bedroom door was partly open and the small slice of room he could see was in darkness. He paused a few feet away from the door, thinking that the noise maybe hadn't come from Kurt's room after all, but then he noticed that the inside of the room wasn't as dark as the rest of the upstairs landing. He crept closer and peered hesitantly into the room.

The door for Kurt's en suite bathroom was cracked open and a thin wedge of bright light was spilling out of it into the dark bedroom. A faint rustling sound was coming from inside, and Blaine could see Kurt's empty bed with the slightly rumpled covers pulled back from the right-hand side - the side Kurt always slept in.

The last thing he wanted to was invade Kurt's privacy, but that sound, that little yelp, had been made by someone in pain. Kurt was hurt, and he wasn't about to just go back to bed and ignore that.

Biting his lip, Blaine edged into the room and nervously made his way over to the bathroom door. He hesitated when he reached it, staring at the aged wood and listening to the sounds of Kurt moving around on the other side of it as he tried to decide what to do next. He couldn't just barge in, but he worried that knocking or calling out would wake another family member up.

"Kurt?" he called softly through the door, as quietly as possible.

There was a barely discernible shuffling of feet across tiles and the bathroom door was bumped slightly. Blaine took this as a sign that it was alright to enter, figuring Kurt didn't want to speak for fear of waking anyone up. He gently pushed the door open, stepped into the bathroom, and gasped.

Kurt was standing in front of the mirror, a small first-aid kit open by the side of the sink, a bottle of antiseptic liquid and some gauze pads on the counter next to it. He was shirtless and was dabbing gently at a fairly long, thin cut across the side of his ribs, his face screwed up and his muscles tensed with the pain. Deep purple-blue bruises spread out from the cut across the pale skin covering his ribs, and there were other smaller bruises on his back that were yellowed with age. The injuries were horrifyingly familiar to Blaine.

Kurt jumped at the sound of Blaine's gasp and his head shot up. Upon seeing Blaine standing there, the colour drained from his face and he quickly snatched up his pyjama shirt, holding it up in front of him, angling himself so Blaine couldn't see his back or bruised ribs reflected in the mirror. But it was too late, Blaine had already seen; the damage was done.

"B- Blaine?" Kurt stammered, guilt and panic chasing each other across his face. "I didn't hear you- What are you still doing up?"

It took a moment for Kurt's question to process in Blaine's mind; the image of Kurt's bruised ribs and back was burned into his mind and it was all he could focus on right now. He couldn't even think about how Kurt had received the injuries or compare them to ones he had gotten in the past. Shock was making it extremely difficult for his brain to function properly and all he could do was stare at Kurt in horror.

"I was on my way back from the bathroom when I heard you cry out," he told Kurt numbly. "I did try to let you know that I was coming in..."

Kurt didn't seem to know what else to say and just stood watching Blaine silently, his face pale and his teeth worrying at his bottom lip as he continued to clutch his pyjama shirt in front of him as though it was a shield. He looked tense and wary, like he was just waiting for Blaine to start demanding to know all about the bruises or to march out the room to fetch his dad.

Blaine's initial shock was beginning to wear off and he was gradually regaining the ability to think clearly. He pictured Kurt's ribs and back again, his stomach twisting at the memory of the disfigured soft, pale skin. The placement of the older bruises on his back - spotted over his shoulder-blades and lower back - the narrow cut across his ribs, and the mass bruising surrounding it...He remembered another body, this one reflected in a mirror, marred almost identically. The connection made a dull anger burn deep inside of him and bile rose up into his throat - the bullying still hadn't stopped or lessened.

Remembering how defensive he had been and how much he had shut down the one time someone - an apparently concerned substitute teacher - had abruptly and rather forcibly asked where he had gotten an injury from, Blaine decided not to fire off questions like he wanted. He knew Kurt would tell him the whole story when he was ready. It wasn't anything to do with trust; these were just difficult subjects to talk about, especially with people you cared about, knowing it would cause them pain and worry.

"Did you finish cleaning the cut?" Blaine asked in a soft voice instead, nodding at the gauze pad Kurt had abandoned.

For a second, Kurt looked a little thrown, clearly surprised that Blaine wasn't questioning him like he had been bracing himself for. "Oh," he said, glancing at the gauze he'd tossed aside when he'd grabbed his shirt. "No, I didn't."

Nodding slowly, Blaine moved closer to Kurt and picked up the antiseptic-dampened gauze and reached for Kurt's pyjama shirt, tugging it out of his boyfriend's unresisting hands and setting it aside on the counter. Kurt stood still and watched in silence as Blaine placed a hand on his arm and moved it gently aside so he could get a better look at the cut. Blaine's expression tightened as he rested his left hand on Kurt's chest to steady him before moving to clean the cut, pausing when his hand was only about an inch from Kurt's ribs.

"Let me know if I hurt you." He carefully wiped at the cut with the gauze pad, starting with small, light sweeps and progressing to using more pressure and purposeful strokes as he gained confidence.

Once Blaine was satisfied that the cut was clean, he checked Kurt's torso for any more, searching the smooth, pale skin for any further damage with his breath held. To his relief he only found a couple of tiny scrapes, which he gave a quick swipe with the gauze just for good measure. Setting the gauze aside, he turned his attention to the bruises, his index finger unconsciously ghosting over the skin surrounding the large bruise on his ribs.

"It was Karofsky and his friends again," Kurt said suddenly, his voice barely louder than a whisper but sounding a lot louder in the shocked and pained silence that filled the bathroom.

Blaine lifted his gaze to look at Kurt's face and found the taller boy still watching him with bitter, sad eyes.

"They cornered me as I was leaving to come home this afternoon," Kurt explained. "One of them shoved me into the wall, and then they threw me into a dumpster. That was probably their way of ending the term: dumpster-toss the gay kid one last time." He glanced down at his ribs. "I landed on something sharp - there were some broken desks in there."

Swallowing hard, Blaine looked back down at the large, irregular bruise staining Kurt's skin. The guys that had done this didn't have to carry around a painful and obvious reminder of that dumpster toss with them for days, even weeks, to come; the incident had probably disappeared into the back of their minds soon after they'd done it, never to be thought of again. But Kurt would be forced to remember. All because he was different.

Blaine dropped his hand from Kurt's ribs, his fingers lightly brushing Kurt's stomach as he did so, causing a small but noticeable shiver to run through his boyfriend. "Do you have anything to put on your bruises?" Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded, looking a little distracted, and reached to rummage through his small first aid kit - and that was another thing: how often did Kurt get hurt bad enough to need first-aid supplies in his bathroom? It wasn't really something a typical teenage owned. Blaine had kept a small selection of bandages, antiseptic and things in his school satchel, but he hadn't realised Kurt was being treated badly enough to need similar supplies on hand.

Feeling even more distressed, Blaine watched Kurt pull a tube of cream out of the kit.

"I have arnica," he said, holding the white tube up so Blaine could see. Kurt shrugged as he examined the tube. "It helps a little."

Blaine held out a hand for the cream and Kurt placed the tube in his palm, watching silently as Blaine unscrewed the cap and squeezed a small amount out onto his fingers. Blaine hesitated for a second, the intimacy of what he was about to do suddenly making nerves flutter in his stomach. Taking a deep breath and keeping his mind on task - which wasn't hard, since the sight of the bruises still hit him like a punch to the stomach every time he looked - he began to gently rub the cream into the bruise, careful not to apply too much pressure. He was standing so close to Kurt that he could hear the other boy's breathing, feel his breath stirring the hair on top of his head, feel the warmth radiating from his body, and smell the scent of him beneath the sharp, sterile odour of the antiseptic. Any other time this would have had his body tingling with anticipation, but right now he was too absorbed in caring for his boyfriend to think that way.

When he was finished with the arnica, Blaine capped the tube and set it aside, slowly and lightly massaging the last smear of the cream into the lowest part of Kurt's bruise. Everything was so still and quiet it felt like the rest of the world was frozen and they were in some private pocket of space where every second lasted twice as long and every tiny detail of Kurt's appearance was sharply defined. He let his hand drift a little further down Kurt's side until his thumb was softly stroking at his waist.

"Nobody else knows about this, do they?" Blaine asked after a moment, lifting his eyes to see Kurt looking guilty again.

"No," Kurt replied. "I don't want my dad to worry and it's Christmas soon...I don't want to put a damper on the holiday by telling them about this."

Blaine glanced briefly down at the bruising again. His stomach twisted.

"You weren't going to tell me either," he noted; not questioning him, just stating the fact.

"I-" Kurt hesitated, worry and pain adding to the guilt in his eyes. "I didn't want you to worry," he whispered after a pause. "You have enough on your plate right now; you don't need my problems on top of all that."

Blaine's thumb stilled against Kurt's waist. "Kurt, I'll always have room for any problems you have and I'll always have time to help you with them," he said in a soft voice. Kurt's gaze lowered to the floor and Blaine placed a hand under his chin to tilt his head back up so their eyes met again. "I thought we shared things like this?"

Kurt tried to duck his head again as a small burst of shame appeared in his eyes, but Blaine's hand remained under his chin, keeping his eyes up. "We do," Kurt replied quietly. "I just didn't want you to find out how bad it was. After everything you've been through and knowing how much this would hurt you to see...I wanted to protect you."

"I don't need protecting," Blaine murmured. "Not from anything like this."

The corners of Kurt's mouth quirked up into a tiny smile. "I know." His hands came up to rest on Blaine's shoulders. "It's hard to remember sometimes that you can't shelter someone from all of the bad in the world, no matter how much you may want to, and I've tried so hard to do that for you since the night we met; I just didn't think it was fair that someone like you had gotten such a crap deal in life." Kurt gave a little shrug. "I thought you'd had enough pain and distress in your life; you didn't need me bringing you more."

A soft crooked smile spread across Blaine's face as he slid his hand up from Kurt's chin until he was cupping the other boy's face, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into a spot just below his eye. "You bring the greatest good into my life and nothing I experience will ever take that away from me, no matter how bad it is."

A sort of stunned wonder filled Kurt's eyes as he simply gazed at Blaine for a moment, before leaning down and kissing him, his lips moving against Blaine's in soft caresses. Something in the movement of his lips, the taste of his mouth, or the way he pulled Blaine closer made Blaine's heart stutter and a heady rush of pleasure surged through him.

He discovered what it was when Kurt turned his head slightly to one side, pressed a kiss to the corner of Blaine's mouth and murmured, "I love you."

It took Blaine a few seconds to respond, his body freezing as he wondered if he'd heard correctly. Then happiness flooded through him in a warm, heart-filling wave. He slid his right hand up Kurt's side, following the curve of his waist until he felt the ladder of his ribs beneath the soft skin. Brushing his lips across Kurt's once more, he tenderly traced around the edges of Kurt's bruise with the pads of his fingers.

"I love you, too."