He’d finally spotted David Karofsky, the male tribute from District Two, and tried to hold back his laughter at remembering the mental image Kurt had planted in his mind of boxer-briefs and a black shirt. As it was, his costume wasn’t the most elegant, or flattering, and Blaine considered himself lucky to have had Kurt as his stylist, for apparently more reasons than one. Upon seeing Blaine’s smirk, Karofsky had glared at him, sneering slightly before turning his back.

Blaine shook his head slightly in disbelief at the other tribute’s snide behaviour, turning back to Santana.

Santana leaned in towards Blaine, smiling faintly.

“So, what was it like?”

Blaine turned to Santana, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“What?”

“You and Kurt totally made out! I could tell. I’m happy for you.”

Blaine rolled his eyes good naturedly at Santana, before leaning his head against the wall with a heavy sigh, “Yeah, we did, and it was great, but I…” Blaine muttered something and Santana cocked an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that?”

“I’m scared, San. I really like him, and I’d really like to get to know him more, but it’s not exactly a possibility anymore. I don’t know what to do.”

Santana rested her head on Blaine’s shoulder, holding his hand softly.

“Let’s just take each day as it comes and see where it takes the two of you.”

Kurt wandered over to the pair, Tina hanging back to talk to what was presumably another stylist.

“You two look absolutely fantastic, if I do say so myself!” Kurt gushed, adjusting Blaine’s lapel slightly, offering the tribute a warm smile.

“Kurt, this dress is absolutely gorgeous, you and Tina did such an amazing job,” Santana said, flashing her pearly teeth at him in a broad smile.

Blaine nearly passed out in shock; that had to be one of the first times he’d heard Santana give someone else a compliment. He shot her a look, as though to ask her what her game was.

“What?” She hissed, elbowing him, “I’ve got to be nice to your boyfriend, don’t I?”

Kurt heard the exchange, blushing along with Blaine and muttering simultaneously something along the lines of ‘not boyfriends’, as much as it was obvious they both wanted to be.

Blaine had to agree with Santana about her dress, however. It was made of a similar material to Blaine’s suit, clinging to her body until just above her knees, where the fabric fell naturally. If he was heterosexual, Blaine was sure he’d find Santana irresistible in the dress, but as it was, he was having a hard time paying attention to her when Kurt stood less than a meter away from him. Blaine longed to reach out and just take Kurt’s hand, pull him in for a hug... or maybe more.

Truth be told, Blaine was nervous as hell. He and Santana were to be presented, along with the other tributes, when really he’d prefer nothing more than to go back to their apartment and get to know Kurt a little better. The concept of being projected onto a screen in front of all of Panem absolutely terrified him.

Just as these thoughts were crossing Blaine’s mind, Kurt reached out and brushed a hand gently along Blaine’s shoulder. The small gesture made him feel slightly better, and he smiled faintly at Kurt.

“Watch it, lady!” Kurt lurched forward into Blaine, having been pushed to the side by one of the tributes.

Blaine recognised him as David Karofsky, and his blood ran cold. The District Two Career seemed all brawn and no brain. Brains weren’t always imperative in the Games, though, and the thought of competing against him sent a shiver down Blaine’s spine. Blaine adored Kurt, but at the same time, meeting Kurt had completely thrown all of his plans out the window.

He knew it was probably too soon to be thinking the way he was, but there was no doubt in Blaine’s mind that Kurt meant something to him. So much so, that Blaine was actually beginning to feel like he might contemplate putting up a fight if somebody had him cornered in the Arena. It made him feel so vulnerable now, to know there was someone hoping for him to come out the other end. To know he had a reason to live.

Blaine tried to be optimistic about that thought, but David Karofsky had crushed any semblance of optimism he’d managed to establish. Blaine forgot about Karofsky for a moment though, finally remembering Kurt in his arms.

The young stylist was trembling, hands hanging limp around Blaine’s waist, as though he just didn’t know what to do with them. Blaine would have felt awkward were it not for how furious he was. Kurt was an amazing person, so talented and considerate, two qualities that didn’t often work well together. Instead of going after Karofsky, Blaine pulled Kurt closer, murmuring softly into his ear, “Let’s go find somewhere quiet until the parade starts.”

Kurt pulled back, wiping at his eyes and nodding. With a small smile, Blaine wove his way through the chariots and horses, towards a small side-corridor.

Blaine leant against the wall, sliding down and gesturing for Kurt to join him. Kurt muttered something about Blaine ruining his costume, but Blaine just smiled, “I checked the floor was clean before I sat. You can sit on my lap if you really want to, so you don’t ruin your suit.”

Kurt blushed, however perched carefully on Blaine’s knee. Blaine pulled him in tight, and Kurt nestled his head in the crook of Blaine’s neck.

“That Career, Karofsky, seems like a douche,” Blaine muttered, causing Kurt to smile weakly.

“You could say that,” He whispered in reply.

“I’m not going to let him get away with what he called you, Kurt. I feel almost inhuman for saying this, but he’ll get what’s coming to him. I just can’t do anything before the Games,” Blaine said, chuckling humourlessly.

Kurt sighed wearily, sniffling a little.

“Kurt, what’s wrong?”

Kurt clenched and unclenched his fists, squeezing his eyes shut.

“This wasn’t meant to happen anymore,” He whispered. He sounded broken. Defeated.

“What do you mean?”

Kurt took a deep breath. He’d never told anyone this. Not even Tina. So much had happened to him in nineteen years, and he’d tried so hard to forget all of the horrible things, but they just seemed to follow him.

“I, uh... well I haven’t always lived here, in the Capitol.”

“Oh?” Blaine asked, his curiosity certainly heightened.

“I moved here when I was about thirteen. My mother passed away when I was eight, and it was tough on both my Dad and I. She had a twin brother though, my Uncle Nicky, and he took it pretty hard too. I know I would if my brother or sister had died. But he didn’t exactly have an easy life either.

“Anyhow, growing up in my District wasn’t exactly easy. People generally just weren’t very accepting of who I was. Of who I am. I’m so lucky to have the father I do. I don’t know what I’d have done if he hadn’t been as supportive of me as he is.

“Things got really bad when I was about twelve. I’d walk home from school and people would be waiting to trip me up in the mud, or throw things at me. They’d call me names, like ‘lady’, and ‘fag’, just because I wasn’t attracted to girls like they were. And we were only twelve, for crying out loud! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I knew who I was, I was fairly sure I was gay, but how could you call someone those kinds of words and actually know what connotations they carry?

“I’m sure it was their parents who had influenced them, and my father certainly didn’t have it easy either. He was employed as a maintenance worker, for all the mechanical things in our district, which there wasn’t actually a whole heap of. As a result, we didn’t have a whole heap of money. My father would often hold me as I fell asleep on his lap, promising me things would get better. He’d started to notice the bruises I was getting, and it made him furious, but there was nothing we could do. I was required to go to school, and he had to work. The teachers didn’t care. No one cared.

“And then my Dad met Carole. She was the first person to really make my dad smile after my Mom passed away. We rarely got to talk to Uncle Nicky because he lived a fair way away from us, but sometimes we’d get correspondence.

“Carole had a son Finn, and her husband had been killed in an accident whilst he was working. They fit in well with the dynamic Dad and I had, and soon we were like any other family. A year passed, and while things at school hadn’t improved, if anything they had gotten worse, home definitely felt more... homely.

“And then Dad got a letter from Uncle Nicky. See, I don’t think I mentioned this, but Uncle Nicky was a past Games champion. He had money. And when he heard about what I was going through in school, he was furious. Uncle Nicky managed to get passage for me and my Dad out of the District and to the Capitol, where we’d been told people were more open minded, less pig-headed. Dad and I were both reluctant to leave Carole and Finn; however Carole was adamant that we go.

Dad promised that he’d get the two of them out too. It was something that didn’t happen to many people, and took a lot of coercing, and regrettably, bribery, but Carole and Finn joined us shortly after my fourteenth birthday.”

Kurt slumped back against Blaine, his eyes fluttering closed.

“When that Career called me that, I just... it brought it all back. I thought I’d managed to get away from it, I thought my life was rid of all those awful people, but they’re still around Blaine. You’d think for someone so close to the Capitol as District Two they’d be more civilised, but I guess that’s not the case.”

Blaine nodded, rubbing Kurt’s back gently as he pressed a kiss to the young man’s temple.

“So, do you still hear from your Uncle Nicky?” Blaine asked softly, twining his fingers with Kurt’s, fairly certain he already knew the answer.

Kurt blushed, averting Blaine’s knowing look.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, I just... I rarely tell people these things, and Blaine, I may not be certain of much, but I’m certain I want to see you alive for quite some time. I’m certain you’re one of those rare people who’ve waltzed into my life and changed it forever... District Twelve is the part of my life that I’ve tried to leave behind, but I guess it keeps catching up to me, doesn’t it?”

“What about your Uncle Nicky, Kurt?” Blaine insisted, poking Kurt’s side as he grinned.

Kurt met Blaine’s eyes, squeezing Blaine’s hand faintly.

“Well as I’m fairly able to tell you’ve worked out, he’s your trainer.”