It had started with a world overrun in complexity. There was nowhere you could go, nothing you could do without offending someone else.

When everyone sat down and thought about it, the problem was clear. It seemed most of these issues were being caused by love and sex and physical displays of affection. Some peple didn't know when enough was enough, and other's had various neroses that made them panic to be touched. People didn't feel safe.

So lawmakers had made laws as they are liable to do, and basically, with all the jargon boiled out, they had come up with their solution: No Touching.

There was to be no two people comitting this heinous act of physicality in the media, kissing, hugging and handholding were edited from films and books. Anything deemed pornographic was eradicated.
It was forbidden for parents to come in contact with their children past infancy. And so the new generation grew up with no memory of the warmth of a parent's embrace. The only touch of another human they would ever experience would be that of a medical professional.

Marriage was a partnership. Like that of two police officers. One would search for another who's management style was compatible with their own, they'd marry, and in time be delivered a child by artificial insemination.
There had been those who had fought, who protested, but it had been a long time since their indignant roars had been extinguished. People accepted the status quo now. How could they not, murder, rape, molestation and even plain old hurt feelings and discomfort were a thing of the past, and besides the act of kissing was vile. It made no sense to mash two bacteria-ridden orifices together and it was not a thing to be missed.
At least, that was the message the government had been drilling into Kurt's mind since before his earliest memories.

He knew that this was the way things were. Civilized people kept their hands to themselves. Physical contact was a thing for animals. Something savage that humanity was glad to have left behind.
But there was something missing from Kurt's life. He mourned the comforting circle of his mother's arms, though he couldn't recall ever being held by her. Since her death he wished more than anything that he'd had something tangible to remember her by. All he had now was the memory of her motherly advice, his father's words about her, and the barely lingering scent of her perfume wafting through the recesses of his recollection.

Now that his father was sick, Kurt found himself longing to curl into his side too. He had nothing to put this feeling in context, but he just knew that if only his father would hold him closely, maybe this world wouln't seem so scary, maybe he wouldn't feel so alone. Maybe the thought of losing his dad wouldn't be so terrifying if he had something real and warm to hold on to.

Kurt felt his palms sweat as he watched his father on their living room couch. He knew his thoughts were wrong, disgusting even. That is, he knew they were suposed to be wrong. But he couldn't help his thoughts, and the state couldn't do anything about them either.

He sighed and resigned to pushing his yearning to the back of his mind. He put himself to bed that night and as always curled himself around the multitudes of pillows he kept in his bed. They were too cool and too soft, but they would have to do, what other option did he have?

........................................................................................................................................................

Blaine was a problem child from the get-go. He'd had inumberable detentions as a child for wrapping his arms around an unsuspecting friend. For his entirely inappropriate requests of hand holding from his peers. Ryan Mueller had screamed and disrupted the class when Blaine had let his fingers linger too long when he passed him a paper. He was the weird kid, the dangerous little boy parents warned their children about, there were seldom few lunch and recess periods he didn't spend at the far table in the corner, under teacher's watchful eye, hunched over extra credit worksheets and his grabby hands quarentined from the world.

He kept his comfort animal too long. Each child was given at birth, a soft, cuddly charicature of some animal. They would carry it with them through their toddler years, and when they felt the commonplace heartaches of childhood, each little boy and girl would find solace with their hippo or their kitty instead of in their parents arms. Most children successfully abandoned theirs at around eight years of age. Blaine Anderson would carry his with him through primary school, the little purple elephant would sit happily slumped on the table next to the curly haired little boy every day until he turned eleven years old and graduated the fifth grade.

Blaine's mother was incredibly concerned. Every attempt at removing the stuffed animal had been met with screaming and crying, for days on end. Blaine, red-faced and distraught would refuse to eat, refuse to leave his room, refuse to attend school, until his Effie was returned to him. Blaine's brother, Cooper, heartbroken seeing Blaine so upset and himself exhausted from the lack of sleep, would sneak the elephant to his brother. The smile would return to Blaine's face as he cuddled Effie so tightly it seemed almost illegal, and his mother would not find the heart to take the toy away again, at least not until she overheard the other mother's snide comments.

It was not until middle school when Blaine would finally surrender Effie voluntarily. And not even then would he allow the animal to be taken from him completely. He left her in the morning, with one last cuddle, and returned from his lonely school day, plop her on the couch next to him and start his homework.

High school came eventually, to no one's great surprise. Effie was no longer a featured appearance in the Blaine Anderson experience, but she still existed in his desperate embrace everynight. Other than his secret pachyderm nightime companion, Blaine had trained himself to be what they all wanted him to be.

He convinced himself he didn't need the affection he so craved. He gelled his hair, pressed his clothes, and adopted a very formal, impersonal demeanor whenever he was forced to interact with his peers. He was an actor after all, just like his big brother, and if they wanted him to be a robot, well, that was certainly a role he was capable of portraying.