Kurt took a deep breath. You can do this, his father had whispered to him just before he followed Blaine up the stairs. Be strong for him.

Blaine was standing in the middle of Kurt’s bedroom, looking lost. “Okay, Blaine,” Kurt said, trying to sound in control. “Did you pack something to sleep in? Pajamas?”

“Uh,” Blaine looked at his suitcase. “I have no idea.”

Kurt opened the suitcase and found a jumbled mass of crumpled up clothing. Deal with that later. He closed it again and moved to his own dresser. “Here. Something comfortable.” He took out a pair of gray cotton pajamas for Blaine, and a navy blue pair for himself. “Go change in the bathroom.”

When Blaine returned, Kurt was sitting in bed, covers turned down. “Come here,” he said softly. “Come on, it’s okay.” Blaine sat, and Kurt gently pulled him down, lying back so Blaine would be on top of him. Blaine hesitantly put his head on Kurt’s shoulder, and Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine, one hand on his back and the other in his hair. 

“You can cry,” he told Blaine. “It’s okay. Cry until you’re done crying.”

And for a long time there were sobs, and Blaine’s fists clutching the fabric of Kurt’s shirt, and Kurt’s voice gently repeating, “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. You’re here now, and I love you, and it’s going to be okay.”

*   *   *

Two boys in pajamas, in the kitchen at midnight. Blaine sitting on a stool at the counter, speaking quietly in a monotone. Kurt padding around in his bare feet, warming two mugs of milk, making two peanut butter and honey sandwiches and cutting them each into quarters, slicing up an apple, and laying the food out on a plate. 

If Burt was spying, and he definitely was, it was with the best of intentions. Blaine was broken, and it was his fault, that idiotic phone call, but there was nothing he could do right now to help. Only Kurt could do that, in this moment, tonight. Burt could help later, but exactly how wasn’t clear yet. And despite his reassurances, he was not at all certain that innocent little Kurt would be up to the task.

Burt was too far away to hear what Blaine said, but it was clear that he was relating the scene with his parents. I’ll have to find out at some point. Kurt didn’t interrupt, but his facial expressions were enough to make Burt’s heart break for Blaine.

Kurt sat on the other stool and set the plate between them, placed a mug of milk in front of Blaine and warmed his hands around his own mug. Blaine was finished talking and he dug into a sandwich hungrily, almost incongruous with his mood. He probably never had dinner, why didn’t I offer him something when he came in? And then Kurt was speaking to Blaine, quiet, calm, reassuring, surely something gentle and sensible if only Burt could hear the words. 

When Kurt stood to bring the dishes to the sink, he caught his father’s eye, all the way across the kitchen and on the other side of the living room. Kurt ducked his chin in a slight nod. He’s got this. He’s not innocent little Kurt anymore. Look at him, strong and gentle, a man. A good man. And when did he get so tall? I need to get out of here before Blaine sees me. Burt went silently back to bed, much calmer than before.

*   *   *

Monday dawned bright and sunshiny, and for a while it looked like everything might be okay. Blaine had Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday off because Six Flags put in the less experienced performers on the least busy days of the week, so he had plenty of time to relax and think, plan what he would say when his mother called.

Finn handed Blaine his old cell phone, since he’d just upgraded a couple of weeks ago. “I heard yours broke, and this one works fine, just get it hooked up on your account. And hey, if you want to, like, hang out and play video games or something, you know, talk, I’m here for you, bro.”

Blaine texted his mother once he got the phone activated. “Got a replacement phone. Want you to know I’m safe, roof over my head. How is dad?”

The answer buzzed a few minutes later. “Glad to hear it. Still need some time. Where are you staying?”

Blaine thought seriously about lying. Wes would cover for him, he thought. But no. This was about them facing the facts. The time for lying was over. “With Kurt’s family.”

When he woke up on Tuesday, the phone was flashing “No Account.”

Burt was irate as he drove Blaine back to the Verizon store. What kind of a parent does this to their kid? Blaine begged to pay the ten dollars a month for an extra line on the Hummel-Hudson account, but Burt flatly refused. Blaine texted his mother. “It’s Blaine. New phone number. Please talk to dad, he canceled my phone service???”

There was no reply.

They stopped at a drugstore on the way back, since Blaine had completely forgotten to pack anything from his bathroom and Kurt used the wrong brand of everything. Toothpaste, shampoo, shaving cream, razors, deodorant, the all-important hair gel. Blaine had a credit card on his parents’ account, which he always used for his ordinary expenses. His face was epic confusion when the clerk said the card had been declined.

“What? Declined? What does that mean?”

The clerk shrugged. “You probably went over your credit limit. Happens to me all the time.”

“Credit limit?”

Burt pulled out his own card and swiped it through the machine. He looked like he could personally strangle someone with his own hands.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said. “I’m so sorry, I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”

“What?” Burt was startled. “Oh, Blaine, I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at your parents. How could they do this? What are they thinking?”

“I don’t know.” Urges … inappropriate … whore … “They’re just angry,” Blaine mumbled, staring at his shoes. “They’ll come around soon.”

Burt sighed. The kid was not going to be moving back in with his parents any time soon, and he probably knew it, too. But Burt didn’t have the heart to say so.

*   *   *

“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice was wavering, his body spooned around Blaine that evening as they went to bed. He was glad for their body positions, he didn’t think he’d be able to say this face to face. “Blaine, I love you so much. I … I want what’s best for you, I want you to be happy. If … Blaine, if you want to go back … if you want to … do what your father asked, if you need to break up with me and go back to your family, Blaine, I would understand. I won’t hold it against you, I know how much you’re giving up to stay here, I know how hard it must be for you. You can … I won’t be angry.”

Blaine turned around to face his boyfriend and placed his hand on Kurt’s cheek, looking straight into his eyes. “Never,” he said. “You are the best part of my life, and nothing would ever make me give you up. I don’t care how high the price is. I need you.”

Kurt bit his lip. “Then we’ll get through this together,” he said. “I’ll be here for you. Always. No matter how hard it gets. I promise.”

Blaine kissed Kurt then, and Kurt thought it should have been the most romantic moment in the history of the universe, but it wasn’t. Something was wrong, very wrong. Blaine’s kiss was desperate and needy, and his hands were tearing at Kurt’s clothing, seemingly everywhere at once, without plan or purpose other than instinct and desperation. The way Blaine was touching him was not fun, not pleasant at all, but still Kurt felt the rush of lovelustlonging that always came the moment he felt Blaine’s hands on his skin. But he could tell, immediately, that Blaine did not feel it. Because Blaine was still desperate, still frustrated, as if they hadn’t touched at all.

Blaine pulled off Kurt’s shirt, nearly ripping it in the process and wrenching Kurt’s arm as he pulled it over his head. Kurt swallowed the gasp of pain and reached back again toward Blaine, trying to slow him, steady him. But Blaine was seemingly driven mad by his lack of feeling—no, Kurt thought, not from a lack of feeling. From feeling so much grief and anger that the love that should have been there couldn’t find its way in.

Blaine was grabbing, touching Kurt everywhere he could reach, holding too hard and not lingering long enough to turn anything into pleasure. Kurt just steeled himself, trying to keep from writhing under his boyfriend’s unintentionally harsh hands, unwilling to complain about anything when he saw and felt so much need from Blaine. Kurt stroked Blaine’s back and arms gently, quietly pretending that everything was normal and fun and right even though it so, so, so was not.

When Blaine popped the button on Kurt’s pants, Kurt squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Because, was this going to hurt? Could his boyfriend actually injure him this way? His pants and underwear were shoved down to his knees a moment later, tangling him and preventing him from moving well. Kurt decided not to risk it. When Blaine wrapped his fingers around Kurt’s length, Kurt slid his hand on top of Blaine’s, guiding him slower, slower, calmer, gently. With his other hand, Kurt maneuvered Blaine’s pants open and held his cock, stroking in the same rhythm.

And then suddenly, Blaine started to cry.

“What’s wrong?” Kurt asked, alarmed. “Should I stop?”

“No, no,” Blaine said through his tears. “Don’t stop. Keep touching me. Please.” 

“Lie back, then,” Kurt said. “Let go, let me just . . . let me just take care of you.” Blaine’s fingers dropped away from Kurt as he shifted from his side to his back. Kurt quickly slid his own pants the rest of the way off, just to be able to move more easily, before turning back toward Blaine.

Kurt brought his boyfriend to physical release, but the emotional release wasn’t there. Blaine slammed his fist into the mattress in frustration, and Kurt jumped from the uncharacteristic gesture. “I’m sorry,” Blaine said, still crying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just…”

“Hush,” Kurt wrapped his arms around him. “I love you.” He wouldn’t let Blaine see how raw he was, physically from the rough contact and emotionally from the shock of finding out that sometimes sex was not perfect and sweet and happy even when you’re in love. He wouldn’t let Blaine see. He wouldn’t. He would be strong, be everything that Blaine needed. “I love you, you are so beautiful, you deserve all the happiness in the world and I will give it to you. I’m here, I’m here, we will get through this together.” Kurt’s stream of semi-connected words continued until Blaine finally slipped into a fitful sleep.

Kurt lay awake for a long time after that, racked with worry and fear and self-doubt. No matter how hard it gets, he had just promised. It was going to be harder than he’d thought.