Kurt spent an increasing amount of time with Blaine as the weeks went by. Every day he would bring food to him, even if he wasn't able to go up to the attic until after everyone else had gone to bed. He had also started to bring some of his schoolwork up to Blaine so that he could do the same sort of work he would have been doing if he was still in school. If the rest of his family was out, Kurt also did his homework up there with him.

Every day when Blaine went down into the main house after it had emptied, he would always find food that Kurt had left out for him in the kitchen or in his bedroom, and Kurt had also given him several bagfuls of food that he could keep up in the attic all the time. This meant that the days of feeling hungry were a thing of the past and Blaine was completely overcome with gratitude and desperately wished there was some way for him to repay Kurt despite the other boy's assurances that just seeing Blaine happy and healthy was repayment enough.

"-and then you use the number you worked out back here in this equation to get your answer," Kurt explained, pointing at the pages in front of Blaine with his pen. He glanced up at Blaine, smiling. "Do you understand or do you want me to work through a question for you?"

Blaine barely heard him; it was the first time Kurt had been speaking to him and he hadn't been hanging on to every word, but his mind was on other things tonight.

"Do you believe in fate?" he asked. 

Kurt straightened up from where he'd been bent over the books and paper spread over a box and turned to face Blaine fully, confusion and concern flickering in equal measures in his eyes.

"Do you believe there is some greater force directing the paths our lives take?" Blaine elaborated. "That there is something that makes certain events happen, that makes us go to certain places or meet certain people?"

Kurt was looking more worried now, probably because of the tone of Blaine's voice: serious with a hint of desperation, like his life depended on Kurt giving a specific answer.

"I- I don't know," Kurt said after a moment. "I'm not religious or anything, so I don't believe there's a God up there playing around with the paths our lives take, but fate doesn't really have anything to do with religion..." He trailed off, looking contemplative as if he had never given the matter much thought before. A small frown line had appeared between his eyebrows. "I don't know," he admitted somewhat apologetically. He lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. "To be honest I find it a little hard to believe in coincidences at times."

Nodding slowly, Blaine pondered his words, his mind turning over thoughts of his parents, his life before the attic, his life now, and Kurt.

"Wh- What brought this on?" Kurt asked tentatively after a minute or two - he looked worried again.

Blaine hesitated, but it was only for the briefest of moments; he trusted Kurt now and thought of the other boy as a friend. Kurt was the only good thing in his life these days, the beautiful, bright spark that made it worth getting up each morning -it was time he knew. "I was thinking about my life before," he said and Kurt's gaze snapped up to meet his. "About how I came to living in this attic and what I had done to deserve this life."

Kurt opened his mouth and quickly closed it again, his expression caught between curiosity and concern.

"I was fourteen when I finally built up the courage to tell my parents something I had known for over a year: that I was gay." Kurt stiffened with shock and for a second Blaine worried that he was about to be on the receiving end of abuse similar to what he had suffered at the hands of his parents and students at his old school. He'd had an inkling that Kurt may also be gay - the fashionable outfits, all the skin creams on his vanity in his room, and the neat stack of Vogue issues on one of his shelves were not things associated with an average straight guy - but he didn't like to make assumptions and Kurt had never mentioned it, so he had no idea if his hunch was correct. When Kurt did nothing but blink at him in surprise, he continued, "It was something everyone at my school already knew and had been giving me hell for, but my parents had never guessed. I was good at hiding all the evidence of harassment I received at school - the bruises, cuts, damaged books and clothing - from them and the faculty never cared enough to do anything about the bullying, so they never found out. The one time they did find out that I was being bullied I managed to pass it off as name calling stemmed from my high grades."

He paused and swallowed, a flash of concern flickering through him; he hadn't missed the small flinch Kurt had given when he mentioned his bullying, nor the way his hand had risen unconsciously to lightly skim his ribs on his right side. Is Kurt suffering similar torture to what I had at school? The thought made worry and anger flood him and he felt a sudden, strong instinct to protect the taller boy against anyone and anything that threatened to harm him.

"I was a little worried about what my parent's reactions would be, since they had always expected me to be the perfect son and I knew they were quite conservative in their views, but I was their son." He swallowed again and took a deep, steadying breath. He went on to describe his parent's reactions, Kurt letting out a small gasp when he said how his dad had told him he deserved the cruel treatment he was receiving at school and Blaine had to clench his fists to stop his hands from shaking as he remembered that afternoon, as vividly as if it had happened yesterday: his father's glare, his mother's stiff disapproval, his sweaty hands slipping off the counter, his fingers uncrossing...

He clenched his jaw in a valiant effort to hold back the tears burning in the back of his throat and prickling in his eyes as he told Kurt about how his mother had never defended him.  Kurt's blue eyes were glassy with tears and his face was creased with sympathy and pain. A drop of salty water spilled from his left eye and trickled slowly down his pale cheek.

"After that afternoon they avoided me as much as they could," Blaine said in a rough, slightly choked voice. "When I was around them they alternated between ignoring me completely and shouting at me, calling me filthy, disgusting, unnatural, wrong."

"Di- Did you- Did your parents ever...hit you?" Kurt asked cautiously, in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

Blaine shook his head and Kurt exhaled in relief. "My dad shoved me into a doorframe once and he threw a glass and something else at me on the night I left home, but they never actually hit me, no."

Kurt looked like he was about to be sick and Blaine couldn't blame him; he couldn't imagine how he would be feeling right now if their situations were reversed and it was Kurt sitting on the floor of the attic where he lived telling him this story, but he guessed it would be similar to how Kurt was feeling.

"My life was miserable; I was hated at both school and home. I had only one friend: a guy a year older than me called Eric, the only other openly gay guy at my school. We rather stupidly went to a Sadie Hawkins dance together and afterwards while we were waiting for his dad to pick us up, a group of guys beat the living crap out of us."

Kurt made a sudden movement, his hand lunging out towards Blaine, before he caught himself, and the hand fell back onto his lap. "Oh, Blaine," he whispered, his voice troubled and thick with tears.

It was becoming increasingly difficult for Blaine to hold onto his composure. Between Kurt's tears and horrified expression and re-living his memories, he was struggling to hold himself together and not break down. He blinked rapidly to try and hold back tears, but a few still escaped as he described his time in hospital: alone, depressed, and feeling absolutely worthless.

He bit down hard on his bottom lip and tasted blood. "Eric moved to Illinois after that; I never saw him again," he finished wearily.

"What happened to the guys who beat you up?"

Sighing, Blaine met Kurt's watery blue eyes again. "They got away with it," he told him bitterly. "Neither Eric nor I got a good look at who they were - it was dark and happened so quickly and they all ran off when Eric's dad showed up and he was more concerned with checking on Eric and me than running after them, so we never knew who did it."

"And you went back to that school?" Kurt asked in horror. "After that?"

Blaine nodded. "I didn't have any choice." He ran a hand through his hair and stared down at the old wooden floorboards, following the grain of aged wood with his eyes to try and keep his emotions under control as he told Kurt about the worst years of his life: the continual abuse at school and at home, the detention that resulted in his father threatening him, and then finally the second detention that was the trigger to him running away from home.

He paused again when he reached the point in his memory of limping into his living room to find his livid parents waiting for him. He tried to start talking again, but his voice broke and he had to take several deep breaths before he was able to speak. Across from him, Kurt looked scared at what he would hear next. There were wet tracks on Kurt's face from his tears and his fingers were digging into the material of his pants.

"My father went mad and threw his empty glass at me; my mother said nothing - again. When my father started advancing on me I turned and ran up the stairs, filled my school satchel with anything from my room that I thought I'd need and ran away from home." Closing his eyes, Blaine bit back a sob. "I ran all night, terrified that my parents or the police would find me. I didn't know where I was or where I was going - I just kept running.

"Eventually I reached the outskirts of a town and found a deserted old house that looked like it had been abandoned for months. Knowing I had to get off the streets, I hid in the attic and have been here since, only ever leaving late at night a few times a week to get food and other essentials from nearby shops using the small amount of money I had in my bag, but when that ran out..." He trailed off, not wanting to admit to the things he'd done to survive: stealing from shops and raiding people's trash cans.

"Blaine..."

He opened his eyes. Kurt was gazing at him with eyes full of tears, sympathy, pain, and understanding. His face was crumpled with his emotions, but he was still beautiful despite the puffy, red face and eyes. "I can't even begin to imagine what that must have been like," he said in a voice roughened by tears. He lifted his hand again, dropped it back into his lap. "I'm so glad you got away from it all and are safe here."

Blaine nodded and managed to give Kurt a small, watery smile.

Sniffing, Kurt wiped at his damp face. "How long have you been living here?"

"Around seven months," Blaine replied.

Kurt stared at him. "You've been on your own all that time?"

It wasn't a question, just an expression of his horror, but Blaine nodded anyway. As Kurt continued to watch him with concern, he remembered his reaction to him talking about his bullying at school. He was a little nervous asking about it, but he felt extremely close to Kurt just now; he felt like he could share everything with him.

He licked his lips. "Kurt..." The other boy looked at him curiously. "Do you- Are you being bullied at your school?"

Kurt flinched and curled in on himself a little. Blaine worried that Kurt was going to refuse to answer and that he had severed the connection between them, but then Kurt spoke.

"I am," he admitted in a small voice. "For the same reason you were bullied: for being gay. Nowhere near as bad as you, though. I just get called hateful names, thrown in dumpsters, shoved into lockers, and slushies thrown in my face - but that's something the whole Glee club gets." He shook his head. "That's nothing to what you got and at least I can escape from it at home and I have friends at school."

"That isn't nothing, all of it is undeserved and terrible, you can't compare your experiences to mine and think that how you are treated doesn't matter just because you haven't ended up in hospital," Blaine told him firmly. "Every smallest bit of bullying affects a person and is something that they carry with them for the rest of their lives, so don't brush yours off as nothing and allow it to continue. Get help before it gets too bad, ok?"

Kurt nodded and Blaine sat back from where he'd been leaning forward, holding Kurt's gaze. "You have told other people about it, haven't you?" he asked him.

Kurt nodded again. "Yeah, my dad and friends know, as do a few of the teachers."

"Good." Blaine hesitated for a second, and then added, "I'd hate to see you get hurt, Kurt. I'd hate to see you end up like I did: hospitalized and damaged."

Kurt was getting better at hiding the secret of the old house he lived in. These days he hardly ever got suspicious looks or curious questions when he was doing something for Blaine. He had perfected the art of visiting him up in the attic and had never been caught. Since that one time with Finn no one had ever questioned the amount of food he cooked and he was successfully able to give Blaine all the meals he needed without anyone noticing. He was keeping Blaine's promise, but he hated lying and concealing things from his family.  Especially his dad.

He determinedly pushed aside the burning guilt that filled him whenever he was around his family; the last thing he wanted to do was break the promise he made to Blaine. He knew the other boy would be ready to leave the attic and face other people soon; he just had to be patient until that time came. Breaking his promise would mean losing Blaine's trust, which had taken weeks to gain, and maybe even losing Blaine completely, both of which would deeply hurt Kurt. He and Blaine were friends and had grown extremely close; he couldn't lose their relationship and this, along with the knowledge that betraying Blaine's trust would completely destroy the other boy, kept him from spilling the secret.

Kurt had other problems as well. With this increasing closeness to Blaine, other, stronger feelings were developing that caused him to blush when Blaine smiled crookedly at him with soft eyes, to avert his gaze when his shirt rode up to show a strip of tanned skin, and his stomach to flutter when he saw Blaine for the first time each day. He found himself regularly thinking about Blaine when he wasn't with him, like during class at school, while Rachel was ranting about something in Glee club, or while he laid in bed at night. However, these thoughts rarely consisted of his worries for the other boy like they had done in the past; instead they were now him imagining Blaine lying next to him, softly caressing his face and leaning in to kiss him, his honey eyes filled with happiness and adoration as he brushed their noses together and threaded his fingers through Kurt's. Sometimes the thoughts were less sweet and innocent and more hot and heavy...

Whenever these fantasies filled his head his whole body would thrill with longing and his heart and stomach would squeeze and flutter with anticipated happiness. And as the days went by and the feelings got stronger, he became unable to describe them anymore; this was nothing he had ever experienced before.

Though he didn't have the best track record for dealing with this sort of thing - his pathetic schoolboy crush on Finn still made him cringe in embarrassment and curse his younger self - he was determined to hide these feelings from Blaine, even though they were a lot stronger and more potent than anything he had ever felt for Finn. He doubted Blaine felt the same way and he didn't want to threaten their friendship by having Blaine find out how he felt. He would rather have nothing more than his wistful fantasies than not have Blaine's friendship at all.

It was a little after seven in the evening and he and Blaine had just finished dinner. He had been able to come up to the attic earlier than he usually did since his dad and Carole were out to dinner with friends and Finn was over at Puck's house. They were sitting near each other, Blaine now being comfortable enough around Kurt to sit within touching distance of him, talking about nothing in particular as they watched the small squares of the evening sky visible through the windows turn a beautiful mixture of soft purples, blues, and reds as dusk fell over Lima, the attic rapidly getting darker until it was lit only by the wash of streetlights from outside. Reaching for the flashlights he had given Blaine for more light at nights, Kurt clicked them on and balanced them carefully on a couple of nearby crates.

When he sat back down and looked over at Blaine he noticed a loose eyelash on the other boy's cheekbone. Without thinking about it, he reached over and gently brushed it off his face.

Blaine shied violently away from him, jumping backwards several feet, his face a mask of panic and fear.

"I'm sorry!" Kurt gasped, immediately realising what he'd done. He wanted to hit himself for being so stupid and careless; Blaine had been abused and hadn't trusted people for a long time, so of course he would react like that if someone just suddenly touched him without warning. It was instinct. "I'm so sorry," he said pleadingly. "You had a loose eyelash and- I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

Blaine recovered quickly, the fear that had been dilating his pupils rapidly fading. "It's ok," he assured, moving back towards Kurt until he was sitting near him again. "You don't have to apologise, you did nothing wrong. I'm just not used to people touching me like that," he admitted quietly, ducking his head.

Kurt couldn't think of anything to say to this and he was still chastising himself for what he did, so he stayed silent and after a short pause, Blaine spoke again.

"Even before they learned I was gay my parents weren't ones for physical affection," he said, still in the same quiet voice. He hunched his shoulders slightly, his arms wrapping protectively around his waist, reminding Kurt of the night he had found him. He felt a bolt of fear that his actions had caused Blaine to regress towards the emotional state he'd been in on that night. "Except for a few hugs from Eric, I've never really..." Blaine trailed off, his eyes downcast and Kurt blinked back the tears that had sprung up at Blaine's words and the sight of his broken face. He started to move, hesitated, then made a decision and shifted until he was sitting directly in front of Blaine, their knees almost touching.

Blaine raised his head and met his gaze. The look in his eyes was enough to make Kurt want to break down in tears, but he held onto his control.

"Do you trust me?" he asked softly.

Blaine didn't even hesitate. "Of course," he replied, nodding.

A wave of relief washed over Kurt; he had worried that his thoughtless action had lost him some of Blaine's trust. "I want to try something. Just keep still and if you want me to stop then say so." He slowly lifted a slightly trembling hand and, holding Blaine's gaze, moved it towards one of Blaine's hands where it rested on his thigh just above his knee. Something jumped inside of him when his hand covered Blaine's, something that somehow managed to make his body thrum with a strange electricity. Trying to ignore the sensation, he let his hand rest on Blaine's for a moment, lightly brushing his thumb in small sweeps across the soft skin, before slowly sliding his hand up Blaine's arm, keeping his eyes on his face to check for any hint of discomfort or unease as he felt the muscles of Blaine's slim arm beneath his hand. He felt a bit more confident when he reached Blaine's shoulder, but his hand was still quivering visibly as he touched Blaine's jaw and smoothed his thumb along the line of it. Blaine exhaled heavily and Kurt froze, worried that he'd gone too far, but Blaine was looking at him with eyes filled with trust and something else, something that made Kurt's insides coil with pleasure. Blaine's eyes fluttered closed as Kurt swept his thumb along his cheekbone, before brushing the curls back from his forehead. He smiled at the small sigh of approval that escaped Blaine's lips when he trailed his fingers through his messy dark hair. The trembling in his hand had lessened by now and the remaining quivers were not from his fear of doing something wrong or pushing Blaine too far.

He lowered his hand from Blaine's hair and gently stroked the delicate skin of Blaine's eyelids, skimmed over his slightly chapped lips, before he cupped the other boy's face in his hand, caressing his cheek softly.

Blaine opened his eyes and another wave of tenderness flooded Kurt when he saw they were filled with tears. "Thank you," he whispered.

"I really care about you, Blaine," Kurt murmured. "And it's not just because I feel sorry for you living up here all by yourself with hardly any food and having to sleep on the floor. Maybe it was like that to begin with, but then I got to know you and-" He broke off, fumbling for words. "You mean a lot to me," he continued, his thumb still stroking along Blaine's cheek in steady sweeps, "don't ever forget it - promise?"

Blaine nodded, leaning into Kurt's touch in a way that had Kurt's heart squeezing from both heartbreak and adoration. "I promise."