Shove Me In To Shallow Waters
K8Malloy
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Shove Me In To Shallow Waters: Chapter 4: What You Are


T - Words: 9,124 - Last Updated: Aug 13, 2014
Story: Complete - Chapters: 10/? - Created: Aug 13, 2014 - Updated: Aug 13, 2014
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Chapter Four: What You Are

 

                Since Blaine hadn't been available in the morning to teach a lesson, Kurt had agreed to come in during Blaine's lunch break.  Kurt watched as Blaine swam laps in smooth even strokes before rushing to the locker room to change his clothes.  Dressed in his swim short and shirt, and wearing his wide-brimmed straw hat, Kurt waved to the other lifeguards as he passed them on the way to the pool.  They greeted him warmly, sitting in the shade of the covered umbrellas, eating lunch and listening to the radio.

 

Despite Blaine's attempts to get Kurt to just jump in the pool, he continued to use the ladder, slowly allowing his body to adjust to the cool temperature of the water.  Without warning his hat went flying off of his head, a tanned arm slid around his waist, and Blaine's voice spoke softly in his ear.

 

 “Hold your breath, handsome.” 

 

Quickly gulping some air, he was dragged backwards underneath the water, until he was sitting on the bottom of the pool.  Blaine swam around him until they were facing each other.  He smiled widely at Kurt before giving him a thumbs up.  The both broke the surface at the same time.

 

                “Hi!”

 

                “Hi.”

 

                Blaine wiped the excess water from his dark curls.  “You did so good just now.  How do you feel?  No jitters, right?”

 

                Kurt held his hands above the water, showing Blaine that his dunking hadn't caused any panic in him.  “No shakes.  I knew it was you.  You aren't going to hurt me.”  He smiled shyly.

 

                “Okay, then.  We're ready for the next step.”  Blaine took Kurt's hand and walked to deeper water in the middle of the pool.  The water level rose from waist high to just below chest level. 

 

                “Blaine?”  Kurt didn't try to hide the concern in his voice.

 

                Turning to his student, Blaine tried to reassure him.  “Look, Kurt, in order to learn to swim, I have to teach you float.  We have to do that in deeper water.  You'll just drag your feet on the bottom, otherwise.  The good news is: once you learn to back float, I can teach you the back stroke.  It's a whole stroke you can swim without putting your face in the water.  And once you learn that, I'll teach you the side stroke.  Don't need to put your face in the water for that one, either,” Blaine explained excitedly.

 

                Kurt took a deep breath and then another trying to release his anxiety.  “Okay, Blaine.  What do I need to do?”

 

                Leaning backwards, Blaine held his arms out from his body pushing his feet up off of the pool bottom.  “You're going to become the letter T.  Your face and chin goes back away from your chest so you can see the beautiful blue sky and count the clouds.  Feet come together.  Deep breath.  Puff your stomach out like a big, ripe watermelon.  Your goal is to float for 30 seconds without putting your feet down.”  Explanation over, Blaine stood back up.

 

                Kurt looked doubtful.  “A watermelon?  Really?”

 

                “Oh, shush.  You get the idea right?”

 

                “Yes.”

 

                “Then why question me, grasshopper?” he teased.  Moving behind Kurt, he placed one hand on the small of Kurt's back and the other on his waist.  “Lean your head back until it's resting on my shoulder,” he instructed.  Once Kurt had done that, he began pushing gently on Kurt's back.  “Okay, deep breath, and let me help you.  I'll keep your head above water.”

 

                Shaking a bit from nerves, Kurt rested his head on Blaine's shoulder and held his arms out away from his sides.  He heard Blaine's encouraging murmurings in his ear as he willed his feet to kick off the bottom.  They just wouldn't cooperate.

 

                “I don't think I can do this,” he squeaked out.

 

                “Yes, you can!” Blaine argued firmly.  “I know you can.  You trust me.  Now trust yourself.”  Blaine brought his left knee up slowly against Kurt's back, lifting his body in the water and his feet from the ground. 

 

                Violently twisting his body away, Kurt ended up under the water before realizing which way was up.  Sputtering, he stood up and whipped his hair from his eyes.

 

                Blaine had lost the color from his face.  “I am so sorry, Kurt,” he said hoarsely.  “Please tell me you're okay.”

 

                “I'm fine,” he snapped. 

 

Turning his back on Blaine, Kurt moved towards the ladder so he could leave the pool. He had every intention of ending today's lesson right then.  It wasn't that he was angry at Blaine, because he wasn't.  It was the humiliation he felt.  Here he was, taking lessons from the world's most patient instructor - someone who wasn't put off by Kurt's physical appearance, or his voice, or that he was gay – someone who would never laugh at the fact that he was 17 and petrified of being in the water – someone who didn't shy away from touching him – and Kurt still couldn't do it.  He could feel a few tears break free which embarrassed him even more.  At least they'd blend with the rest of the water dripping off of his body.

 

“Kurt?  Kurt!  Please, Kurt, wait!” called Blaine.  Diving under the water, Blaine hurriedly swam after the young man.  Kurt had reached the ladder and was holding the side rail by the time Blaine caught up.  Reaching out, Blaine placed his hand on top of Kurt's and hooked his chin over Kurt's shoulder.  “Please don't leave like this, Kurt,” he begged in a low voice.  “Talk to me.  Please?  Will you please turn around and look at me?”

Kurt shook his head in the negative.

 

Blaine slid away from Kurt, shifting to lean against the pool wall.  The sound of the water sloshing over into the gutter filled his ears.  Glancing over his right shoulder he could see Kurt staring off into space fighting back tears.  At least he hadn't climbed out of the pool, yet.

 

“I pushed you too hard, Kurt.  I'm sorry.  I promised to listen to you and I didn't.  You have every right to be mad at me.  I'm mad at me too,” he offered.

 

Kurt swiped the tears from his eyes.  “'m not mad,” he choked out.

 

“What?” Blaine asked, turning to face Kurt's profile.

 

Kurt took a deep shuddering breath and reached out to pick up his straw hat and put it on his head.  Facing Blaine, he swallowed hard before finding his voice.  “I'm not angry at you, Blaine.  You've been nothing but understanding and patient.”  He stared up at the clear, blue sky, searching for the right words.

 

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to do this?  Of course not.  You've been swimming since you were four.  I'm so frustrated, Blaine.  I've spent the last ten years hiding the fact that I can't swim to all of my friends, only to be forced to do this by some archaic rule so I can earn my damn high school diploma.  And I come here and meet you in all your amazing swimming glory, all tanned and athletic and perfect.  You – all of you – make this look so fucking easy; but it's not.  Not for me, anyway.  And I get more frustrated, because you give perfectly clear and simple directions on what to do.  But I either can't do them, or my body freaks out. And here I am, in tears, again. How fucking pathetic is that?” Kurt was half shouting, half sobbing at this point.

 

“It's not pathetic, Kur-”

 

“It is pathetic, Blaine.  I'm 17. I can't swim. And I'm so fucking scared of what you're asking me to do that I cry.  I think I've embarrassed myself enough for one day, Blaine.”  With that said, Kurt tried to climb out, but was stopped by Blaine who pulled his wrist hard enough to yank him off of the ladder.

 

“Come here!”  There was no mistaking the command in Blaine's voice.  He dropped his hand from Kurt's wrist to his hand and carefully but deliberately intertwined their fingers, all while pulling Kurt to him.  Blaine realized that it was just the two of them outside – Sometime in the past few minutes the others had left the table and gone inside the office to give the two boys some privacy.  “Let me be clear about something, Kurt.  You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.  Nothing.  You are not pathetic.  It really hurts me, Kurt, when you talk about yourself like that.”

 

“You've seen me practicing dives here?” Blaine asked.  Seeing Kurt's nod, he continued.  “I like the springboard.  At Dalton we also have a 3 meter platform.  Maybe you've seen one?  It's only 10 feet off the water.  I don't like it as well, but I dive off of it with no problem.  Well, last summer Dalton's diving team was invited to attend a training session at Ohio State.  They've got a 10 meter diving platform there.  That's about 30 feet off the water.  All we were supposed to do was climb up and jump off.  No flips.  No twists.  Literally, just step off and fall straight down.  Well, I got up there, looked down and pissed myself.  Seriously.  I froze.  I peed.  And if Nick hadn't come up to get me and walk me back down the stairs, I'd still be up there shaking.”

 

He could tell that Kurt really listening to his story.  “People get scared, Kurt.  We freak out.  I hate spiders and won't go into a room if I see one on the ceiling.  Do you know that people eat an average of eight spiders in their lifetime while sleeping?  What the hell is that?  Dogs freak me out, too.  When I was five, I got trapped in a garden shed with my best friend at her aunt's house by a vicious barking dog.  Come to think about it, that's probably where my fear of spiders comes from too – but my point is - I'm still not over it.  I avoid dogs as much as I can.  I'm 18. I have an unnatural fear of spiders and dogs and heights.  Does that make me pathetic?”

 

“No,” acknowledged Kurt.

 

“C'mere,” Blaine asked softly, pulling softly until Kurt was wrapped up in his hug.  “You don't mind, do you? ‘Cause if you didn't need a hug, I certainly do.”

 

Kurt inhaled shakily.

 

“I don't want you to feel scared, Kurt.  I want you to trust me.  I need you to trust that I'm not going to let anything happen to you while we're together.”  Hearing voices, they pulled away from each other.

                                                                       

                A small purple object bounced off of Blaine's head and landed in the water in between them.

 

                “JEFF!”

 

                “Whatever, Anderson,” the ultra-blonde lifeguard called, bouncing two more frozen grapes off of Blaine's head.  “I got tired of waiting for your emotional moment to be over.  If I wanted teen drama, I'd watch 90210 or iCarly.  Have some grapes.”  With that Jeff tossed the plastic baggie to Blaine and dove over the two boys into the water.  He was followed quickly by Nick and Jordan. 

 

                Kurt snuck a couple grapes from the baggie in Blaine's hand.  Popping one in his mouth, he was pleasantly shocked at the burst of icy goodness.  “Mmmm – it's like a mini slushy”

               

                “Is this your first time eating a frozen grape?”  Blaine tried to contain his surprise.  “You've been missing out.”

 

                “Clearly,” he agreed.

 

                “Wait, Kurt's a frozen grape virgin?” asked Jeff, reaching over Kurt's shoulder to snag a grape from his hand.  Kurt elbowed him in the chest.  “Hey!” Jeff cried.

 

                “Whether I have been with frozen grapes or not, Mr. Sterling, is none of your business.  I don't kiss and tell.”  Kurt paused as Nick and Blaine started to laugh.  Raising his eyebrow and giving Jeff his best bitch face, he added, “And…I would never. Ever.  Steal. Another.  Man's.  Grapes.”

 

                Jeff's grin was infectious.  Kurt couldn't help but smile back at his blonde friend.

 

                “Boys!  Jordan!  Get the food out of the pool.  It's time to set up for the afternoon classes,” called Rebecca from the office doorway.

 

                “See you soon, Kurt,” called Jeff as he followed Nick and Jordan to the deep end of the pool to pull the lane lines out of the gutter and into proper position.

 

                “Bye.”  Kurt looked over at Blaine, who handed him the baggie of grapes.

 

                “Can you take these out with you?”

 

                Kurt shrugged.  “Of course.”

 

                “Are we okay?”  Blaine asked tentatively, glancing down into the water before meeting Kurt's gaze.

 

                Kurt reached out under the water to take Blaine's hand.  “We were never not okay, Blaine.  Will you call me later, so we can talk…about when we can meet up again?  Maybe, talk about other stuff too?”

 

                Blaine felt butterflies take flight in his stomach.  “Yeah, totally!  I'll call you tonight when I get home, okay?”

 

                “Sounds good.”  Kurt's attention was pulled by a gaggle of children who all seemed headed their way screaming “Mr. Blaine! Ms. Meghan! Mr. Blaine! Ms. Meghan!”  “You're being invaded, Anderson.  Good luck!  Looks like you might need it.”

 

                Kurt climbed out of the pool, snatched up his hat from the pool deck and headed straight into the locker room.  Blaine's gaze followed him the entire way until Meghan nudged him, bringing his attention back to the five squirming members of his guppy class.  And because his attention was focused on his job, instead of the boy who was quickly stealing his heart, he missed the two older teens – who weren't enrolled in lessons – who followed Kurt into the locker room.

 

 

 

                Little Paul Jacobs may have only been four years old, but he was a smart guy.  Well, that's what his grandma tells him when he stays over at her house.  She had picked him up today from preschool, took him to lunch at McDonald's where he got his favorite – a hamburger with ketchup with French fries and she allowed him to have a soda – as a treat, before bringing him to his swim lesson with Mr. Blaine and Miss Meghan.

 

                He was sure it was the soda at lunch.  That was why he had to go pee in the middle of the swim lesson.  Mr. Blaine had given them a “big talk” on the first day about never ever peeing in the pool because it would hurt the magic fish under the water.  So he asked Mr. Blaine to lift him out so he could go use the potty in the locker room.

 

                “Okay, Paulie.  You hurry back, but don't…”

 

                “RUN!” shouted all five children in the guppy class.

 

                This was why Paul came into the locker room unexpectedly.  And he might only be four years old, but he knew something was “most unacceptable” as Grandma would say.  There was one boy on the ground in the shower.  He was crying.  Paul thought that it might be the same boy who was friends with Mr. Blaine because he'd watched Mr. Blaine teaching him to float earlier.

 

                Two boys were standing over him, yelling and calling him names.  And they were using words that Grandma and Mama said were unacceptable.  He had been promised a washing out of his mouth with soap if he ever used words like those.  He'd accidentally tried soap once, in the shower.  It was ‘gusting.  He didn't ever want to use those words.

 

                Paul knew that friends didn't make each other cry.  And friends didn't call names or use bad words.  It was time for him to “do the right thing.”  They'd talked at school about what little kids like him could do if they saw someone who needed help.  Paul knew he needed to get an adult.  He would go get Mr. Blaine.  Mr. Blaine would make those other boys stop being mean.

 

                Heading out of the locker room, Paul ran right into Ms. Rebecca standing by the office door.  “Ms. Rebecca! Ms. Rebecca!” Paul shouted.  He grabbed her hand, tugging her towards the boys locker room.

 

                “Whoa there, Paulie!  Where's the fire?” asked Rebecca with amusement.

 

                Paul stopped pulling and looked at her with his very serious expression.  “Ms. Rebecca, are you even allowed to go into the boys' room?”

 

                “Yes, if it's an emergency.”  Rebecca knelt down so she could peer into the boy's eyes.  “What's up, Paul?”

 

                “Ms. Rebecca, I went in there to go potty because I had soda at lunch and grandma said it was a treat and what happens at grandma's stays at grandma's and there was a boy in the shower except he's on the floor and he's crying and there are two other boys yelling at him and saying bad words and calling names and I know I'm supposed to get an adult to help,” he answered in one breath.

 

                “You did exactly the right thing, Paulie,” Rebecca offered as she stood and blew her whistle in one long sharp blast.  All of the lifeguards immediately looked her way, and the entire pool area quieted down instantaneously. 

 

“Scott!”  She waved for the OSU student to leave his junior lifeguarding class at the far end of the pool and come over.  Making eye contact with Jordan who sat in the lifeguard's chair, she called out, “Jordan! Cover for Scott.”  She immediately climbed down from her perch and walked over to his students.

 

Dani came up behind Rebecca from the pool office.  “I need you to cover for Blaine.”  Nodding once, Dani jogged over to the guppy class and jumped into the shallow end of the pool, “Hey, guys!” she greeted.  “Mr. Blaine needs to go help Ms. Rebecca with something important, so I'm gonna help Ms. Meghan out,” she explained with a pointed look at Blaine.  “What are we working on today?”

 

“BUBBLES!” shouted the class.

 

“Excellent!”

 

Blaine pushed himself up out of the pool and trekked over to Rebecca.  Seeing Paulie still wiggling at her side, Blaine encouraged the boy to join the class.

 

“But Mr. Blaine, I still have to pee.”

 

“Go use the girls' locker room, Paulie.  You have my permission,” Rebecca offered distractedly.  Once the young boy moved off, she made eye contact with both lifeguards.  “Paulie reported someone's in there crying and being yelled at by two other boys.  I need you two to be professional.  Period.”

 

Scott and Blaine stood behind her as she pulled open the locker room door.

 

“God, Hummel, why are you here? Trying to infect all these little kids with your fairy dust?  Checking them out?  That's sick!  Fags like you shouldn't be allowed in public places.”  The voices echoed sharply off the tile walls.

 

“Oh my god,” whispered Blaine.  “It's Kurt.”

 

“STOP!  That's enough.”

 

Rebecca's rage was barely contained as she stared down the two teens in front of her.  Forcing herself to maintain control, she bit off her next words.  “Get the hell out of this locker room.  Now!  Scott, get them out on the pool deck.  Have any parent call 911.  They don't leave until the police are here.”  Her eyes never left the bullies' faces.

 

“WHAT?  Who do you think you are?”

 

“You can't hold us against our will.”

 

“Shut. Up.  You wanna push me?  You'll see exactly who you're dealing with and exactly how far I'll take this, gentlemen.  Move.  Now.” she ground out.

 

Scott moved around Rebecca and motioned the boys towards the door.  They grumbled, but moved.  While they might have been willing to press their luck with Blaine or Rebecca, at six feet four inches of solid muscle, Scott's physical stature gave him a decided advantage over the teens and they knew it.

 

As soon as they left the locker room, Blaine shot out from behind Rebecca and flew to Kurt's side.  He froze for a moment before wrapping his arms around Kurt and gathering the sobbing boy close.

 

Rebecca moved cautiously to kneel down on the other side of Kurt, not wanting to spook the boy too much.  She placed her hand on his knee, gently squeezing to let him know she was there.  “Kurt? Kurt, honey? Are you okay?  Are you hurt?” she asked quietly.

 

Kurt's head was buried in the crook of Blaine's neck and he was desperate to bring his sobs under control.  He'd been petrified.  After his horrifying experience involving Karofsky, Kurt didn't know what to expect.  Would they just yell?  Hit him? Do other things?  But they were gone now, and Kurt could just barely process Blaine's soft murmurings.

 

“Shhh.  It's okay.  You're okay, Kurt.  I've got you.  Shhh.”

 

“S.s.s.sorry.”  Kurt managed to snuffle out.

 

Rebecca leaned over to wipe the tears off of Blaine's cheeks.  Ones that Kurt couldn't see.  “You have nothing to be sorry about, Kurt.”  She swallowed hard.  “Take him home, Blaine.  We'll cover the rest of your shift.  Call me if you need a ride home.”  With that she stood slowly, and left the two teens alone.

 

It took a few minutes, but Kurt was finally able to stop crying.  It took a few more minutes after that before he was willing to pull away from Blaine.  Not that he would admit it to anyone, but was nice being wrapped up in the arms of the handsome lifeguard.  Blaine didn't shy away from touching him.  It felt comfortable.  Eventually, though, he knew he had to move away, before things got awkward.

 

Blaine felt a bit empty when Kurt finally pulled away.  He could see an apology forming in the other boy's eyes, and moved to cut it off before it was voiced.  “Don't even say you're sorry.  I'm glad I could be here for you.”

 

Kurt wiped the final wetness from his eyes.  “Okay. Well, then, thank you.  Thank you for being my human tissue.”

 

“Anytime, Kurt.”  Blaine smiled softly.  “And you never know – one day I may need you to return the favor.”  Before he could see the surprise in Kurt's eyes, Blaine stood and walked over to a long locker.  Spinning the locker dial, he opened the door, grabbed a t-shirt and shrugged it on, removed his duffle bag and a towel before returning to Kurt.  Pulling Kurt up from the floor of the shower, Blaine carefully wrapped the towel around him.  “Come on, I'm going to take you home now,” he explained softly.

 

                Kurt pulled away and looked into Blaine's eyes.  “You…you can't Blaine. You have to work.”

 

                Slowly shaking his head, Blaine raised his hands to Kurt's shoulders and gently squeezed.  “No. I'm taking you home.  Rebecca knows.  I'm not letting you drive like this.”

 

                “But, how…how will you get back here?” Kurt asked frantically. 

 

Blaine pulled Kurt back to him, again wrapping Kurt in an embrace, moving his hands up and down Kurt's back in a soothing gesture.  “Shhhh.  I know it's hard, but don't worry about me right now.  I need to worry about you.  I need to know that you're okay.  I need to make sure you're home safe.  Please let me do this for you, Kurt.”  Blaine heard his voice start to crack, as the emotions he was furiously trying to stuff down fought to break free again.

 

                Kurt found himself burrowing into the crook of Blaine's neck once more, trying to soak in as much of the comfort that Blaine was offering.  He trusted Blaine, that much was clear.  He just didn't want Blaine to get into trouble for missing work.  But if Rebecca was okay with it, then what was the harm in having Blaine drive him home?

 

                “If you're sure it's okay with Rebecca?”

 

                Blaine let out a deep sigh of relief.  “Yes, Kurt, it's fine.  You can ask her yourself, if it will make you feel better.”

 

                Kurt lifted his head up once again. “You won't think it's because I don't trust you?  Because I do, you know.  Trust you.”

 

                Blaine offered a shy smile.  “I know, Kurt.  Ask her.  I'm not going to feel bad.”

 

                “How did I get so lucky?” Kurt asked in a whisper.

 

                “What do you mean?” asked Blaine.

 

                Kurt pulled away and began to bite his lower lip.  “I don't know what I did to deserve to have a friend like you in my life, Blaine.”

 

                “Kurt, that's…that's, like, ridiculous.  You're, like, the most amazing guy in all of Ohio.  I'm blessed to have you in my life.”

 

                “That's silly, B”

 

                “Yeah, whatever.  Get changed.  I don't want you sitting in your wet swimsuit in your car.”  Blaine went to move away when Kurt reached out and grabbed his wrist tight.

 

                “Don't.”

 

                “What?”

 

                “Don't go.  Please.  Stay here.  With me.  While I change.  Please.”  Kurt had lost his color at the thought of being alone in the locker room.

 

                “It's okay, Kurt.  I'll stay.   I'm just going to change out of my trunks.  I'll be in here the whole time.  I was just gonna give you some privacy.”  Seeing Kurt start to panic, he added, “I'm just go over here to the end of the bench.  I'll count tiles or something when I'm changed.  Let me know when you're done,” he mumbled.

 

                Quicker than expected, Kurt called out, “I'm ready.” 

 

Wearing street clothes and shoes, they walked outside. Blaine noted that Rebecca was speaking with several Lima police officers while the two bullies sat on the ground.  He could feel Kurt starting to tense up, so he wrapped his arm around Kurt's slender waist, steering him into the pool office.  They could go through the front door and save Kurt from having to walk past the assholes who'd tormented him earlier. 

 

                As they exited the building, Blaine asked for Kurt's car keys.  They were arguing over who was going to drive, Blaine's arm still wrapped around Kurt's waist, when Blaine walked right into Jeff's older brother.  “Pete!” he said in surprise dropping his arm from where it had been comfortably resting.

 

                Pete Sterling stood in front of the teens in his Lima police department uniform.  He'd made sergeant 18 months ago, which had come with a significant increase in both responsibility and pay.  It's when he'd finally got up his courage and proposed to Rebecca.  He worked swing shift, but had been pulling some overtime because the day sergeant was out on maternity leave.  “Hey, Blaine.  Heard there was some trouble over here, so I decided to swing by.”  Taking note of the other boy, Pete asked, “Who's this?”

 

                Blaine pocketed the keys he'd forced from Kurt and made the introductions.  “Kurt, I'd like to introduce you to Sergeant Pete Sterling.  He's Jeff's oldest brother and the lucky guy marrying Rebecca in the fall.  Pete, this is Kurt Hummel.  He's been taking lessons here.”  There was so much more Blaine could add, but chose not to. 

 

                Pete nodded his understanding.  “Ohh.  Kurt.  As in your Kurt,” he said as certain pieces fell into place.  This was the young man Blaine was harboring an enormous crush on. 

 

                Kurt contemplated the deep flush that graced Blaine.  “Your Kurt?” he repeated- the subtle request for an explanation clear in his tone.

 

                Blaine fumbled for an explanation.  “Um, well, we talk about work at home.  The others talk about you being my Kurt, because, well, y.y.you're my student.”

 

                “Oh.”

 

                There was so much feeling behind that simple syllable.  Blaine's heart dropped into his stomach.  He didn't know what he was doing.  He barely understood what he was feeling.  And both Rebecca and Pete had made it clear that asking Kurt out while he was being employed to teach him how to swim was crossing a line.  God, he just wanted to tell Kurt the truth. 

 

                Instead, he did what he was supposed to.  “Pete, I've gotta drive Kurt home.  Becca will explain things.  If you need to talk to Kurt, you can call me and I'll give you his address.” 

 

                A perplexed expression crossed Pete's face but he responded, “Understood.”

 

                Blaine reached out tentatively taking hold of Kurt's elbow.  “Where'd you park?”

 

                Kurt gestured towards the right side of the parking lot with his head.  “Over there.” He started towards his car, aware that Blaine's hand slid down his arm and found its way into his own.  It was soothing, even as it left him perplexed.  What message was Blaine sending him?  Was there even a message to send?  Kurt decided that he didn't really care at that point.  If the beautiful boy wanted to hold his hand, he wasn't going to complain.  Or pull away.

 

                They reached Kurt's Navigator and Blaine walked Kurt to the passenger side, opening the door for him.  As Kurt slid in, Blaine blurted out, “Your hands are like ice, Kurt.”  Horrified at his lack of tact, Blaine immediately started trying to explain himself.  “I.I.I mean.  Um, shit.  I'm sorry, Kurt.  I don't mean that in a bad way.  It's just-” 

 

                Amused at the flustered Blaine, Kurt watched as he unzipped his duffle and pulled out a dark navy hooded sweatshirt.  Blaine held it out for Kurt to take, which he did.

 

                “Here's my hoodie.  Maybe it will help.  You can wear it.  If you want to, I mean.”  He closed the door to the car and jogged around to the driver's side.  By the time climbed inside, Kurt was wearing his sweatshirt.  That sight just did things to him.

 

                Kurt buried his nose into the sweatshirt and inhaled.  Seeing Blaine's stare, he explained, “it smells like you.  Without the chlorine.”  He fiddled with the GPS unit for a moment.  “There.  Now the car can take you to my house.  I think I'd like to take a power nap.  If that's okay with you?”

 

                “Yeah.  Yeah, sure, Kurt.  I'll wake you when we get there.”  He watched as Kurt curled up onto the seat, made a pillow out of the hood of his sweatshirt, and closed his eyes.  Kurt looked impossibly young and impossibly beautiful. And Blaine was falling for him faster than he ever thought possible.

 

               

                Blaine had pulled up to the Hummel residence, turned off the engine, and debated what to do next.  Kurt was snoring quietly.  It was actually quite adorable.  But Blaine was hesitant to wake him up just yet, clearly sensing that after the day's events, Kurt needed the rest. 

 

                Making up his mind, Blaine exited the car and went up the front walk to the door.  When no one came to his repeated ringings of the doorbell, he tried the keys on key ring until he found the one that opened the door.  Walking in, he found the family room not far from the entryway.  He could carry Kurt in there, and surely there would be a couch for him to nap on.

 

                Leaving the door open when he went back outside, Blaine carefully opened the passenger door, unfastened Kurt's seat belt and slid his arms under Kurt's knees and back.  Hoisting Kurt to his chest, he swung around and bumped the door closed with his butt.  He did the same thing with the front door, and moments later he had Kurt on the couch, still asleep.

 

                Blaine decided that everyone was more comfortable napping without shoes – so he sat down at the far end of the couch, and slowly undid the laces of Kurt's shoes, removing them and his socks.  He glanced up and saw Kurt's eyes flutter open and shut.

 

                “Carried me in?” he mumbled.

 

                “Yeah. I didn't wanna wake you.  You looked so peaceful,” whispered Blaine.

 

                “Going back?” Kurt asked.

 

                “Nah.  I'll stay until someone else comes home.”  Blaine reached over to take Kurt's hand.  It was much warmer than twenty minutes ago.

 

                “Could call my dad,” Kurt muttered, not wanting to fully wake up.

 

                “In a hurry to get rid of me?” teased Blaine quietly.

 

                “No!” came Kurt's quick reply.

 

                Blaine rubbed his thumb over Kurt's knuckles slowly.  “Well, maybe we don't need to make anyone rush home to check on you.  Seeing as you already have someone to take care of you.  If you want.”  Blaine's gaze was on their hands, so he missed Kurt's reaction to his quiet words.

 

                Kurt cleared his throat before murmuring, “C'mere.” 

 

Blaine felt Kurt tug on the hand he was holding.  Next thing he knew, Blaine was lying next to Kurt on the couch, face to face, one arm curled under Kurt's head as a pillow and the other stroking circles on his back.  “Go back to sleep, Kurt,” he suggested.

 

“Don't wanna,” answered Kurt with a pout that only made Blaine want to lean over to kiss it off of his face.

 

“Kurt.”

 

Kurt hid his face in Blaine's shirt.  “Blaine.”  He tightened his hold on Blaine, reaching one arm up to play with the soft curls at the nape of his neck.   “I don't ever feel like this.  Safe.  And I don't want to go to sleep only to wake up and find it gone.  You gone.”  Kurt had barely gotten the words out before he started trembling.

 

Blaine pulled Kurt tightly against him, kicked off his shoes, and wrapped one of his legs over Kurt's, hoping that his proximity would help Kurt feel secure.  “You aren't alone, Kurt.  You are never ever going to be alone again.”  He spent long moments just holding Kurt while holding a silent argument in his mind over whether to share with Kurt the most painful incident of the 18 years of his life.  Finally, the desire to be completely honest with Kurt won out.  “Let me tell you a story.  It's not a nice story, but…well, it's my story, and it's the only one I've got.”

 

It took Blaine the better part of an hour to share with Kurt the story of his coming out – of the Sadie Hawkins Dance and being beaten within an inch of his life– of being hospitalized for months and losing his friends, losing a year of school, losing himself.  Transferring to Dalton Academy for Boys.  Finding himself again, piece by piece.  Nick. Jeff. The Warblers.  All of it came tumbling out.  He allowed Kurt to see his tears and wipe them away.  He allowed Kurt to comfort him in ways that no one else ever could.

 

Finally, he ended by placing his hands on either side of Kurt's face bringing their foreheads together softly.  “You are not alone, Kurt.  I get it.  I understand.  I know what it's like.  So when you start to doubt that, you have to call me.  I don't care what time of day.  I don't care where we are in the world.  You call me, so I can remind you that you aren't alone.  And someone out there cares and understands.”  Without conscious thought he moved to place a chaste kiss on Kurt's forehead.

 

Kurt stared into Blaine's honey colored eyes.  “How is it you don't have a boyfriend?” he asked in awe.

 

Blaine swallowed hard.  “I.I.I think I w-was just waiting for the right guy to walk into my world,” he answered hoarsely.

 

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Was?”

               

Blaine could feel himself flushing.  He pulled Kurt back into his embrace, resting his chin on the top if Kurt's head.  “I'm thinking I may have met him.  Still waiting to see how things play out,” he admitted softly.

 

Kurt sighed softly.  “He must be really special.”

 

Blaine smiled into Kurt's hair, pulling him closer.  “Yeah, he is.  Go to sleep Kurt.”

 

Yawning, Kurt raised his head so he could place a soft kiss on Blaine's jaw before snuggling back down into his embrace.  “Night, B.”

 

                It had been mid-afternoon when Burt noticed a Chevy Tahoe with Lima Police Department emblazoned across the door pulling up to his tire shop.  Walking outside, his heart stopped for a moment when Rebecca Michaels exited the vehicle, followed by an officer.  Her immediate call of, “Kurt's fine, Mr. Hummel,” alleviated his most pressing anxieties.  Regardless, something had clearly happened at the pool.

 

                He'd ushered the young woman and the officer, who turned out to be her fiancé, into his office where they all sat down.  Rebecca explained about the verbal assault, her decision to press for the young men to be cited for their crime, and her request that Blaine take Kurt home. 

 

                Burt thanked her for everything she'd done for his son.  It struck him as unusual that she had left her job to come tell him in person what she could have easily told him over the phone.  “Shouldn't you be at work?” he asked kindly.

 

                She shrugged.  “I had to go down to the station to swear out my statement.  Scott's managing the pool for the afternoon.  I'm sure they managed to get someone else to sub in.”  She stopped for a long moment.  “I'm not sure I'd be any good there right now anyway,” she answered quietly.

 

                “Hey! Bec, this isn't your fault.  You did everything you could.”  Pete moved to push some of her hair behind her ear.  “You did everything right.”

 

                She glared at her fiancé, who knew the anger in her eyes wasn't directed at him.  “Knowing that doesn't make me feel any better Peter.  That could have been Kyle.  It could still be Kyle.  It makes me sick to think about what those boys were saying.  You didn't hear them.  You didn't see Kurt,” her voice broke as tears began to streak down her face.

 

                “Your brother is very lucky to have a sister who cares about him so much,” observed Burt.  He moved around the desk to stand in front of Rebecca.  “I've known for a very long time that Kurt was gay.  And it kills me inside to know that his life is going to be harder because of ignorant, fearful people like those boys today.  I try every day to make him feel loved and supported and safe.  What you did today?  Standing up for him?  Making him feel supported and safe?  That's the best gift you could ever give my son.  Your fiancé's right, Ms. Michaels.  You did everything right by my son.  So thank you.”

 

                Burt had given a lengthy hug to the younger woman and a firm handshake to the sergeant before walking them out of the shop.  He'd told his assistant manager that he was leaving for the day, and drove home so he could see for himself that Kurt was okay.

 

                Closing the front door behind him, he was surprised to hear nothing.  No television.  No voices.  But Kurt's Navigator was parked in the driveway, so surely he was home.  Stepping into the family room, he found the reason for the quiet.  Two boys wrapped in each other's arms, deeply asleep.  Kurt had the same relaxed facial expression he used to have as a toddler sleeping with his favorite stuffed bunny, Mr. Peebles.  It struck Burt just how much trust Kurt must have in Blaine.”

 

                He flashed back to the conversation the two of them had had while he was recovering from his heart attack:

 

                “Why can't I walk hand and hand down the hall with someone that I like?  Why can't I slow dance at my prom?” challenged Kurt

 

                Burt sighed.  He understood where Kurt was coming from, even if his son didn't feel that right now.  It was just that he had a father's desire to protect his son wrestling with a need to have Kurt acknowledge responsibility for some of his actions.  “C'mere.  You think I don't want those things for you?  I do.  You know, until you find someone as open and as brave as you, you're just going to have to get used to going it alone.”

 

                Burt was a tad overwhelmed.  It was one thing to have a conversation with your teenage son about the idea of falling in love, of being a partner to someone.  It was quite another to come home after hearing your son was terrorized by homophobic bullies – expecting he needed comfort - to find him curled up asleep on the couch, in the arms of a young man you hardly knew. When did this happen?  He was so not ready for this - any more than he'd been ready to find Finn asleep in bed with Rachel Berry last month. 

 

                The front door crashed open as Finn and Puck came bursting in, engaged in a loud argument. The noise jerked both Kurt and Blaine awake.  Unfortunately, Blaine ended up falling off of the couch, knocking his head soundly against the coffee table.

 

                “Owww, shit! That hurt,” whined Blaine.

 

                “Oh my god, Blaine? Are you okay? What time is it?” asked Kurt sleepily.  He reached out to rub the back of Blaine's head.

 

                “A little after 4:30,” offered Burt, somewhat pleased to see the boys jolt in surprise.

 

                Kurt's eyes shot to his father's face as he yanked his hand back.  “Dad! Oh my god, Dad.  It's not what it looks like. I swear.”  He swung his legs off of the couch and offered a helping hand to Blaine.  He could feel himself flushing.  “I mean, yes, we were sleeping, but it's not as bad as you're probably thinking.” 

 

                Blaine felt frozen in place.  Mr. Hummel had caught them asleep on the couch.  God, he was probably jumping to all kinds of conclusions about what he and Kurt had been up to – alone for hours in an empty house.  This was so not the impression he wanted to make on Kurt's dad.  The fact that Burt hadn't exploded yet gave him a glimmer of hope.  His father would have had Kurt out the door within 30 seconds of finding them together and he would have placed Blaine on restriction until graduation.  Or even longer.

 

                Finn, oblivious to the tension in the room, wandered in and turned on the television.  “Hey, dudes,” he called in greeting to Kurt and Blaine, giving a nod in their direction.  Puck followed shortly thereafter, carrying a large bowl of popcorn and a twelve pack of cola.  “You're home early, Burt.  You gonna watch the Reds game with us?” Finn asked, standing since Kurt and Blaine were seated on the couch.

 

                “Sounds good,” remarked Burt. Taking a seat in his recliner, Burt decided to extend an olive branch of sorts.  Not that it was really needed, but he did want Blaine to know that wasn't going to lop off the young man's head anytime soon. “So, Blaine, would you like to stay and watch the game as well? Have dinner with us?”

                “Um…”  Blaine was still rubbing the back of his head, checking his fingers for any sign of bleeding.

 

                Burt interrupted the teen.  “Look, kid, Rebecca stopped by the shop.  Told me what happened today.  I appreciate your taking the time to make sure Kurt got home safely.  And that he was okay once you got here.  So if you don't have anything you have to run off to - stay.” 

 

                Finn stared at Kurt.  “Dude, is everything okay?” he asked with concern.  Ever since Burt and his mom had gotten married, Finn had tried to look after Kurt as much as the other boy would let him.  He knew Kurt didn't share a lot of what went down at McKinley between him and the jocks.  But that didn't mean Finn didn't want to help, that he didn't care. 

 

                Kurt sighed, determined to not make a huge deal about what had happened now that he finally was starting to feel better.  “It's fine now, Finn.  I'll tell you about it later.”

 

                Puck sprawled down on the floor next to Kurt's legs and offered up some of the popcorn to the boys.  “Seriously, Princess, if some asshat needs a beat-down, you know you only need to ask.”

 

                Kurt rolled his eyes.  “Thanks, Puck.  It's cool.  Blaine and two other lifeguards took care of the situation for me.” 

 

                Puck looked around Kurt at Blaine.  “You're a lifeguard, huh?”

 

                “Yeah,” acknowledged Blaine.

 

                “So, like, have you saved anyone from drowning?  And are the chicks as hot as on that t.v. show?”  Puck handed Blaine a cola, and waited expectantly for an answer.

 

                Popping the soda can open, Blaine sipped slowly to alleviate his dry throat and to buy time while he decided how honest to be with this guy he'd never met. Kurt seemed to be at ease with him, so that was a point in his favor. “Yes.  And, I guess.”

 

                “What do you mean you guess?” Puck asked incredulously.

 

                Blaine held Puck's gaze as he answered calmly.  “I mean, I guess that the women I work with are hot.  I'm not exactly in a position to make that call.  I can tell you, however, that the guys I work with are damn fine.  Hotties with swimmer bodies.  Wide shoulders, trim waists.  Tan.  They're also all straight, which does me no good what-so-ever.”  He turned to Kurt and winked.

 

                Puck burst out laughing.  “Guess I had that coming.  So how many people have you saved?  And how exactly did they thank you?”

 

                Kurt smacked Puckerman hard on the arm.  “Enough!”

 

                Blaine leaned over Kurt's lap to help himself to a handful of the popcorn from the bowl in Puck's lap. “Six.  And I didn't get a single phone number out of any of them,” he teased.  Sitting back up, he offered Kurt some of the kernels he was holding.  “And, for the record, rescuing breathing is much harder than they ever make it seem on television.  And if you ever have to do it – I highly recommend using a face shield.” Blaine dug into his pocket, and pulled out his key ring where a small pouch with his portable face shield hung.  “Because being puked on while giving mouth-to-mouth really, really sucks.”

 

                Everyone in the room was staring at him.  He shrugged, deciding that changing the conversation was the best course of action.  “Um, so Burt, what are the Reds chances of winning tonight?  I hear they're having problems with finding reliable pitching.”  The conversation shifted to baseball, something the other guys were more comfortable discussing. 

 

After an hour of watching the game, Blaine needed to stretch the kinks out of his back.  He stood and leaned forward and back, then side to side, causing his back to pop rather loudly.  “Sorry,” he muttered before sitting down and draping his arm over the back of the couch behind Kurt.  He noted that Kurt was still wearing his Dalton sweatshirt.  He could feel his heartbeat pick up at the thought.  It may have stopped altogether when Kurt leaned over to rest his head on Blaine's shoulder.

 

“Still tired?” he whispered in Kurt's ear while watching the pitch count.

 

Kurt moved his head in the affirmative.  “A bit.  You're comfy.  I'm not really in to sports.  Usually, I read,” Kurt explained quietly.

 

Risking rejection of some sort, Blaine dropped his arm down from the couch to rest on Kurt's shoulders.  “You could get something to read.  I wouldn't mind.”

 

“Nah.  Too lazy.  And you're too comfy.  You don't mind do you?” Kurt asked.  Fighting to keep his eyes open, Kurt snuggled further into Blaine and wrapped an arm around Blaine's waist.

 

Blaine inhaled deeply at the contact.  “No. I'm honored to be your pillow.  C'mere.”  Blaine pulled him closer.  “Rest.”  He wasn't sure, but he thought Kurt might have called him a dork before slipping off to sleep yet again.

 

 

                After the game had finished, they'd all managed to stuff themselves full of pizza for dinner.  Kurt had insisted his father share a veggie pizza with low fat cheese with him, but Blaine was certain he saw Finn slip the man a small slice of the combination the other boys were sharing.  When they had finished cleaning up the kitchen, Blaine mentioned calling Rebecca to come pick him up.  Kurt had refused to allow him to do so.

 

“That's ridiculous, Blaine. I'll take you home.  It's the least I can do.” 

 

Finn and Puck had called out their goodbyes from their places in front of the television where they were currently playing video games.  “You should totally come hang with us again,” Puck offered in invitation.  “I totally have questions.”

 

Burt walked Blaine and Kurt out to the Navigator.  Following Blaine to the passenger side, he stopped him from getting in to the car.  “Thank you.  Things haven't been easy for Kurt for a while now.  He tries to keep a lot of it from me which I'm not exactly happy about.  But it's clear to me how much he trusts you and I'm glad he has you as a friend.  You're welcome here anytime, Blaine.”

 

                “Thank you, sir.”  Blaine bit his lip nervously.  “I'm. I'm really sorry for what you saw this afternoon.”

 

                Burt raised his eyebrow.  “Why would you be sorry?  Do you have something you should be sorry about?  Because what I saw was a very good friend of my son helping my son process the traumatic event he went through today.  It wasn't more than that was it, Blaine?”

 

                “No, sir.”

 

                “Well, then don't be sorry for helping someone out.  Have a good evening, Blaine.  Hope to see you around some time soon.  Oh, and thanks for not telling Kurt about that piece of pizza,” he added with a wink.

 

                Blaine grinned.  “You're welcome, Mr. Hummel.  And thanks.”

 

 

 

Kurt pulled his Navigator into the driveway of a Craftsman style home and turned off the motor.  The only light came from the porch. Turning to the passenger seat, he offered a shy smile to Blaine.  Butterflies in his stomach took flight when Blaine smiled back.  “So…”

 

                Blaine glanced down at his hands.  “Will you come back?” he asked tentatively.

 

                “To the pool?”  Kurt was clearly surprised.

 

                “Yeah.”  Blaine looked up to stare at the flag hung off of the front of the house.  “I mean, I would totally understand if you didn't want to come back.”

 

                “This is Lima, Blaine.  Jerks like that seem to find me wherever I go.  If I kept running away, the only place I'd have left would be my house,” Kurt reflected.  Trying to lighten the mood a bit, he added, “Besides, I'm much too young and much too fashionable to be housebound at 17.  Plus, I'd have to get a couple cats.  And cats shed.  And you remember what I said about being fashionable?”

 

                Blaine chuckled and turned to Kurt.  “I've noticed.  You're usually a bit overdressed when you come to the pool.  Well, for Lima anyway.  Do you have an idea of when you want to schedule your next lesson?”

 

                “I'm scheduled to work in my dad's shop tomorrow.  All day.  I could do the next day, though.  Morning or lunchtime?”

 

                Blaine bit his bottom lip as he thought about his schedule.  “Friday's a special schedule at the pool.  No swim lessons.  No open swim.  We're doing testing for the junior lifeguards most of the day.”

 

                “Well then-“

 

                “Hey, don't interrupt,” chastised Blaine.  “As I was saying, we're testing them most of the day, but not all of the day.  Do you think you could come by around 10:30?

 

                “Sure.”

 

                “Excellent. It's a date.”  That gave Blaine an idea.  “Tell you what, Mr. Hummel.”

 

                “What, Mr. Anderson?”

 

                “If you float, on your back, for a full minute and you front float across the shallow end by the end of Friday's lesson, I, Blaine Anderson will take you to lunch.  Your pick.  Except I'll need to be back by 12:45.  Sorry.” He shrugged with his apology.

 

                Kurt giggled.  “So, it'd be like a lunch date?”

 

                “Yep.  But don't expect me to be fashionably dressed.  I will agree to wear shorts, a t-shirt, and sandals.”  Blaine ticked each item off on his fingers as Kurt laughed louder.  “None of those items will include cat hair.”

 

                “You, Blaine Anderson, are a dork.”

 

 

                Laughing, Blaine slid out of the SUV and shut the door.  Kurt waited until he had unlocked and opened the front door to begin backing down the driveway.  Holding up his hand in a wave, he whispered to himself, “Yeah, Kurt Hummel, but I'm your dork.”


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