Standing Outside A Southern Riot
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Standing Outside A Southern Riot: Waiting For A Superman


E - Words: 6,819 - Last Updated: May 20, 2013
Story: Closed - Chapters: 16/? - Created: Mar 28, 2013 - Updated: May 20, 2013
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Author's Notes: Song used in this chapter was "Waiting for A Superman" by Iron & Wine, and if you get the chance to listen to it, it's absolutely lovely.

Chapter 15: Waiting For A Superman

Let's stay awake and listen to the dark
Before the birds, before they all wake up
It's the ending of a play, and soon begins another
Hear the leaves applaud the wind
See the sun come rising and white winds start to fly
Like strings of pearls in the fiery sky
Lend me your winds and teach me how to fly
Show me when it rains the place you go to hide

-Birds by Emiliana Torrini

After Kurt's phone call, Blaine drove as if in a trance. He was worried, worried about Burt who had been nothing but kind to him that one time they had interacted, but more than that, so terribly worried about Kurt.

Kurt was fragile. Sure, he seemed strong on the outside, and he was; he had a hard, cold exterior, but Blaine more than anyone could tell that it was a façade, a shield Kurt had carefully constructed and put up after years of suffering. Blaine couldn't imagine what losing his father would do to Kurt- he was already so broken.

Blaine could only hope that somehow, in some way, he could be the one to help Kurt come out of this in one piece, help him emerge out of this sorrow with his humanness still intact, without letting him finally and completely shut himself off from the world.

Blaine's iPod was still plugged into his car stereo from earlier in the day and the lyrics of a slow, sweet song, filled his ears through the rain, though he barely noticed:

I asked you a question and I didn't need you to reply
Is it getting heavy
But then I realize, is it getting heavy
Well, I thought it was already as heavy as can be

Blaine continued to drive, through the rain and its wreckage, barely able to see the road in the darkness and with the blur of the water on the windshield and the glazed feeling settling over his eyes.

Tell everybody waiting for Superman
That they should try to hold on best they can
He hasn't dropped them, forgot them or anything
It's just too heavy for Superman to lift

When Blaine finally got to Kurt's house, it felt like he had been in the car for hours, though thirty minutes was more accurate. At least, it should've only been thirty minutes. He couldn't say for sure, he couldn't even remember at all what had happened on the car ride.

His mind now knew one thing: that Kurt needed him. Kurt was in that house and Kurt was in need and Blaine was here to save him.

He went around back because the lights were on in the living room, despite the fact that it was so late, and he didn't want to interact with Carole or Finn. Blaine knocked on the door, once, twice, a third time, a hard, insistent rap, until the door was opened so suddenly he nearly fell inside.

Kurt was standing there, looking completely wrecked, his eyes swollen and red-rimmed and Blaine wanted to die from the sight alone. God, hadn't Kurt suffered enough already? He stood there awkwardly in the doorway, framed by the light of the moon, unable to move, unsure what Kurt wanted.

There was a long beat where they both stood frozen, simply taking the other in. And then Kurt did the hardest, bravest thing he had done in years. He reached forward to collect Blaine in his arms.

He was suddenly surrounded, his senses being filled by the scent of Blaine and the feeling of him, Blaine's hair against his cheek, his rain-soaked jacket dampening Kurt's skin, Blaine's warm neck against Kurt's, Blaine hugging him, Blaine holding him up,Blaine.

Kurt's tears started silently but they racked his entire body so that he was trembling like a scared little puppy, causing Blaine to tighten his grip on the other boy.

Shh,he murmured over and over again.It's alright, it's alright.

He hadn't even realized he was gently repeating the mantra until after a long time, Kurt finally moved, wiping his runny nose uncomfortably on the back of his hand and heaving out a long, shuddery breath. Blaine felt stiff and damp; he realized they had left the door to the outside open and the cold air was coming in in large gusts. Kurt hadn't noticed; the boy seemed entirely numb to feeling. Blaine went to close it and then gathered some tissues from the box in Kurt's little, pristine bathroom. The taller boy was standing right where Blaine had left him, not having moved even an inch, a look of watery horror etched into his unblinking blue-green eyes. The golden yellow that sometimes flickered in them when Kurt was especially happy or standing in the sunlight was nowhere to be seen right now.

"Kurt, here," Blaine said and when he didn't react, Blaine forcefully wiped across Kurt's nose and dabbed at his eyes with his fistful of tissues until he was satisfied with the result. Blaine then set the crumpled tissues down and put his hands on Kurt's shoulders, gently pushing him backwards until he was sitting on his bed. He began to remove Kurt's jacket and shoes; he had clearly just gotten back from the hospital when he called and literally hadn't done anything else between that time and Blaine's arrival, too much in shock as he was.

"I'm going to get you some tea," Blaine told Kurt, who did not acknowledge whether or not he had heard Blaine or even cared. "Just stay here," Blaine instructed and it was almost a funny thing, in a twisted kind of way, because Blaine knew that Kurt wasn't going anywhere even if he tried to make him.

Blaine decided quickly that it didn't matter who was upstairs or if they found out he was here. They would understand. But when he got to the living room, it was empty, though the television was on as well as most of the lamps.

It was odd and more than a little freaky. Kurt's dad's truck had been in the driveway when Blaine drove in, but Carole and Finn's cars probably would've been in the garage. If they were home. They were home weren't they? Shouldn't they be?

Blaine decided he would leave it and set about putting some water on to boil. He found a significant stash of chamomile tea in the cupboard labeled very distinctively "Kurt", so he figured that was probably a safe bet of what Kurt liked. He added a little honey to the mug that he was steeping the tea bag in and then brought the hot cup down the stairs.

Kurt was, as predicted, still sitting in exactly the same place as Blaine had left him. When Blaine entered the room, Kurt looked up slowly and then,

"What are you doing here?" It wasn't asked accusatorily, like Kurt normally would've, or snarkily- just with genuine confusion, which scared Blaine and made him sad simultaneously.

He set the tea on the ground and knelt down in front of Kurt.

"You asked me to come over, remember?" He said gently, taking the other boy's icy hands in his.

"I did?" Kurt asked, looking truly bewildered.

"You did," Blaine said softly. He was unable to keep himself from lightly stroking the back of Kurt's hand with his own, moving in slow, and what he hoped were calming circles, trying to bring some warmth and life back.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said, his brow furrowed. "I forgot."

"No, no, don't be sorry," Blaine said quickly. "Don't be worried about it. Here." He handed Kurt the cup of tea, which the shaken boy took gingerly, almost warily in his hands.

"It's chamomile with honey. Drink it Kurt."

Kurt still seemed uncertain but did as Blaine instructed. After a few careful swallows, Blaine noticed that Kurt's hands were trembling around the mug, sloshing the liquid inside a bit, and he quickly took it from him.

"Thank you," Kurt whispered, his eyes fixed on some random point on the carpet.

"Kurt? Where are Carole and Finn?"

"Carole had a shift at the hospital overnight. She's going to keep- keep checking..." Kurt trailed off as if divulging even that small bit of information had been too much.

"And Finn?" Blaine prompted.

"He's here I guess." Kurt seemed disoriented. "Yes. He came down before he went to bed. But I didn't want to talk. So I guess he's still here."

"Kurt," Blaine said gently. "You need to get some sleep."

Kurt nodded dully.

"Come on," Blaine encouraged as the boy made no movement from his bed. "Put your pajamas on."

Kurt sat on his bed unmoving, as if he hadn't heard Blaine at all. Blaine finally moved to the chest of drawers where Kurt kept some of his wardrobe and rifled through until he found a pair of silky pajama bottoms and a matching top. The fancy set of sleepwear didn't seem much like the Kurt he knew but then, Blaine was finding that there were a lot of surprises when it came to Kurt. A lot indeed. He placed the folded clothes on Kurt's lap and at that, Kurt began to undress, almost as if on autopilot. Blaine turned and looked away, knowing that right now was not the time to indulge in his sexual fantasies involving Kurt, or deal with the heavy confusion that surrounded it all.

In a few moments, Kurt was dressed in the pajamas, looking more like a lost, little boy than Blaine had ever seen him. Even with the diamond earrings that he had in each ear, a tribute to how badass he was, he still looked so little. So afraid.

"Can you drink the rest of this?" Blaine asked, offering Kurt the tea again. Kurt took it and swallowed it in a zombie-like fashion. He shivered violently as he drained the mug.

"What is it?" Blaine asked with no small amount of concern in his voice.

"It's s-so cold," Kurt chattered helplessly.

Blaine moved from his perch on the edge of the bed and, daringly, crawled over to where Kurt was sitting, his knees drawn up to his chest against the pillows. He took his arms then and wrapped them around the other boy. Kurt initially stiffened at the touch but then seemed to relax a little bit, and finally, his whole body slumped into Blaine's, no longer having the strength to resist.

Blaine didn't miss the contented sigh that escaped Kurt's lips as he closed his eyes against Blaine's chest.

"W-will you st-stay the night?" Kurt's voice was a near whisper as he made himself vulnerable to Blaine in a way that Blaine knew was extremely rare, and also painful for him.

"Of course," Blaine said, though it wasn't an "of course" kind of question at all. Blaine very easily could've- probably should've- said no to Kurt, they both knew that. But Kurt's dad was sick, and for the boys, that made all the difference. For now, they would allow themselves this small comfort, though they would not have allowed it under any other circumstances. But tonight, Kurt just needed somebody and Blaine wanted to be that somebody. Neither was protesting.

"Okay," Kurt said in a small, peaceful voice. "Just- just tonight."

"Just tonight," Blaine repeated, pressing a kiss to the top of Kurt's head.

They stayed that way until both boys drifted into sleep, wrapping their arms even more tightly around each other while they dreamt, unrestrainedly, about a world where this could be a reality.

x-x-x-x-x-x

"Mom, would you hold on for a minute and just let me say- No! Mom, seriously."

Kurt awoke to the sounds of someone having a hushed, but furious conversation in his bathroom. He suddenly remembered:Blaine.

"I stayed over at Quinn's last night, alright? Geez...No, I'm sorry. Yes Ma'am. Yes. Okay. Yes. I will. I'm sorry," Blaine mumbled the last few words of his conversation and hung up the phone quickly.

"Did you quell the fears of the homo detective?" Kurt asked sardonically from his position in bed when Blaine reentered his line of vision.

"Yes, the homo detective thinks I'm ensconced happily in heteroville in the arms of one Quinn Fabray," Blaine replied teasingly, flopping back onto Kurt's bed.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, behold, a miracle has occurred, he's not even trying to deny his homosexual tendencies anymore." Kurt said in a very apt imitation of an announcer's voice.

"Shut up," Blaine said, shoving him playfully.

"Make me," Kurt challenged and although Blaine realized he had walked right into that one, he was also pleased to see that Kurt's old spark had returned. Gone was the scared little boy from last night and in his place, good old regular irritating, cocky, jackass Kurt.

"Fine," Blaine replied and Kurt looked at him with raised eyebrows. Blaine shrugged a little bit and leaned over to cover Kurt's mouth with his. In all their times together, Blaineneverinitiated and Kurt couldn't help but find it incredibly hot. His hands moved to settle on Blaine's ass as Blaine situated his body so that it was hovering above Kurt's, nipping on Kurt's bottom lip as he did so.

"Mmm my dad should have a heart attack every week, if this is what it makes you do," Kurt murmured.

Blaine pulled back suddenly, moving to the other side of the bed and running his fingers through his curls.

"Blaine?" Kurt propped himself up on his elbows.

"Kurt don't- don't say shit like that. Don't trivialize what's happening to your dad because you and I both know he means a hell of a lot more to you than that."

"If I don't..." Kurt began and then paused, letting his breath out in a shaky gust. "Fuck. I need a cigarette."

The boy moved to grope around in the back pocket of the jeans he had been wearing the night before, before locating a cigarette and his lighter. He crawled off the bed and stumbled to his door, opening it so that the chill of the late autumn morning swept away the smoke, leaving no trace of the scent in the immaculate room.

"If I don'ttrivializeit, I'll...obsess over it," Kurt finally said, after three long drags of his cigarette.

"There's nothing wrong with letting yourselffeelsomething," Blaine said softly from the bed.

"Yes there is!" Kurt's voice was no longer calm or coolly disinterested, but strangled. "You don't get it Blaine. What you saw last night- that tiny, broken, shell? That's just a glimpse of what I become when I let myself feel. I break down. I can't function. It's pathetic. It's weak," He spat bitterly into the wind that pawed at him in the open doorway.

"You can pretend you don't care about this but it won't change the fact that you love your dad."

"Now which one of us is the fag? Go give your 'emotions' speech to someone who's interested. I'm not."

"Kurt," Blaine said in protest.

"For real Anderson, get the fuck outta dodge before I beat your ass. And don't tell anyone anything."

"I would never tell anyone about this. It's your business. No one else's," Blaine answered quietly.

"Exactly.Mybusiness. So I get to respond however I want. I don't need your little opinions," Kurt sneered.

"Alright," Blaine said, deciding to try a different tactic. "You don't want to talk, let's fool around."

"Excuse me?" Kurt said, looking over at him sharply from where he stood leaning on the door jamb.

"You heard me. Let's. Fool. Around."

"That's what I wastryingto do before you so rudely interrupted and tried to tell me how I should feel about my own father."

"You're right. That was wrong of me. Let me make it up to you," Blaine said simply.

"How?" Kurt asked, cocking his head dumbly.

"Come on Kurt. Don't do this to me."

"Nope. You're not getting off that easy Curly Q. You want to make it up to me, you have to tell me how. Let me see if it's gonna be worth my while."

Despite himself, Blaine found that he was smiling at Kurt's use of the old nickname.

"I'd rather show you. It's more of a hands-on kind of making-up," Blaine said with a seductive swipe of his tongue across his lips.

"I think I'd like the sound of you describing it to me."

Blaine sighed deeply. He had never in his life doneanythinglike this before. But then, he had never been involved with anyone like Kurt before. He shook his head, giving in.

"Fine. First, I'd kiss your eyelids, then your neck, then back up to your cheeks and your forehead and your jaw and chin until you were all but drooling for me to just kiss your lips already. And finally I would, but it would be a chaste kiss, slow and long, and no matter how much you wanted to slip your tongue in, I'd keep my lips sealed, teasing you. I would keep kissing you without letting you taste until you were begging and then suddenly, I would hike your legs up around my waist and back you into the wall and kiss you so hard that you'd forget your own name and that fact wouldn't even bother you because you'd be so wrapped up in just tasting me and me tasting you. I'd start to fuck your mouth with my tongue just like you love and you wouldn't be able to help but groan and rub up against my stomach because it'd remind you ofotherkinds of fucking. And then I would take your hands and pin them up behind your head so you couldn't move, so your whole world became me, and I'd draw your bottom lip into my mouth and hold it gently between my teeth and suck on it until you were writhing against me with your whole body."

Blaine paused and chanced a look at Kurt, whose eyes were closed as he, having slid down the open door at some point during Blaine's description, now sat breathing heavily, the cigarette hanging forgotten between his fingers and his lips parted slightly.

"Do you want me to stop?" Blaine asked around a grin that he couldn't keep from stretching across his face.

"Yes," Kurt said.

"Yes?" Blaine was shocked, and suddenly felt unbelievably awkward.

"Yes, stop talking and come over here and make good on that that speech you've been teasing me with."

Blaine smiled wider. He walked over to Kurt slowly, crouching down upon reaching him and gently taking the cigarette from his fingers and stubbing it out on the concrete step outside the door. He then closed the door, Kurt shifting out of the way but never opening his eyes.

Blaine leaned forward and kissed his eyelids, so softly that it was almost possible that his lips hadn't even touched them at all.

He kissed his cheeks, like he had said he would, and then his nose, and his chin and finally, painstakingly, all the way across his jaw. He even moved down to kiss Kurt's throat, hearing a soft purr emanating from him as the marshmallow-light kisses continued to the spot behind his ears and beneath his earlobes and then back to his temples and to the little patch of skin between his eyes that crinkled up when he laughed.

And then finally, Blaine kissed Kurt's parted, open lips. It was also a chaste kiss as he had said it would be, and Kurt, for once, was not greedy or demanding with his lips, but simply let Blaine control the pace. Blaine wound his fingers through the chestnut hair at the nape of Kurt's neck and continued to massage his lips lightly against Kurt's, never opening his mouth, simply enjoying the feel of Kurt's pillowy lips molding against his own, and allowing them to breathe in one another.

Finally, as Blaine could feel Kurt getting desperate, Blaine lifted the other boy up, pinning his arms up above his head and against the wall with his legs wrapped tightly around Blaine's waist, ankles hooked behind him. And he continued his infuriating assault of tantalizing, close-lipped kisses. Finally, Kurt fisted his hand in Blaine's curls and yanked the other boy's face closer to his.

"Come on, my dad is fucking dying here. At least kiss me like you mean it," he growled.

And so Blaine did. He opened his mouth and sucked on Kurt's tongue before diving in with his tongue and fucking his mouth with it, once again, just as he had described. He then removed his tongue and nipped at Kurt's bottom lip repeatedly, every time the boy tried to gain entrance into Blaine's mouth; he was met with only a sharp, teasing nip. Finally, Blaine caught the full bottom lip between his teeth and dragged it into his own mouth where he sucked on it to the point of making Kurt cry out, quietly. Blaine released Kurt's lip then and continued simply kissing him, full, open-mouthed, exploratory kisses, the kind in which it were almost as if they were rediscovering kissing, the kind in which they became lost in each other and forgot about the world existing around them.

It had never really been like this before. In fact, they hadn't done a lot of kissing in general before. It was always more about the hand jobs, or the blow jobs; the sex aspect of everything. And it was usually one person [Blaine] lavishing attention on the other person [Kurt]. Never this wholly intimate, mutualistic, slow, building, give and take that they were currently engaging in. Almost as if they were real lovers.

Both boys were thinking it, though neither dared to say it out loud. They had seen each other's cocks before but this was somehow far more intimate, and it was frightening. The intensity of the moment was building with every second that ticked by and neither could pull away.

It must be a universal truth that siblings have a habit of having the most unfortunate and yet simultaneously perfect timing, because just at that moment where things were getting too intense for either boy to know how to handle it, Finn came barreling down the stairs, all clumsy, long-legged, teenage boy.

Blaine, in his moment of instantaneous panic, dropped Kurt so that he fell with a loud thud against the carpet, cracking his elbow against the wall and planting his ass heavily on the floor. Normally, Kurt would've snapped at Blaine, but he was still too shocked and dazed from what had just occurred between them to say anything.

Blaine, on the other hand, had backed as far away from Kurt as was physically possible in that brief span of time and was standing there, lips raw and looking chapped, arms crossed defensively across his chest, with something like fear in his eyes.

"Hey-" Finn began but then stopped abruptly at the sight of Blaine.

"Blaine," he said in surprise. "What are you doing here? It's like...8:30 AM man."

"Kurt mentioned what happened to Burt and I came to uh- to, uhm, bring casserole! My mom sent me with casserole. For you guys," Blaine finished lamely.

"Where's the casserole?" Finn inquired.

"Left it!" Blaine exclaimed and even Kurt, who was still on the floor looking more mind-fucked than he ever been in his life, looked up to glare at Blaine's idiocy.

"In the car!" Blaine added on a stroke of what he felt was pure genius. "I just left it in the car. My mom would've brought it herself but she doesn't really know you all so well, so she thought it would make more sense for me to bring it, since I, I kinda know Kurt, you know?"

Kinda know Kurt. Yeah, if by kinda, you mean I know what it's like to have his cock down my throat, then sure I "kinda" know him.

"Great!" Finn said with genuine enthusiasm, oblivious to Blaine's obviously poor attempt at lying. "Kurt, Mom just got home, and she said there's no change yet but the doctors are cautious...they're cautioning...optimus?"

"Cautiously optimistic," Blaine supplied helpfully.

"Yeah, whatever that means. I don't really get how those two words can go together," Finn said with a shrug and Blaine shook his head in wonderment at how the boy was managing to pass high school.

"It's a good thing. It means they think things are going to turn out alright although they can't say for sure," Blaine explained. Finn's face lit up in comprehension.

"That's a really good thing!"

"Yeah," Blaine said with a smile. Finn was nearly bouncing up and down.

"It means shit nothing." A dull voice sounded from the corner.

Blaine and Finn both turned to look at Kurt, who had not moved from the spot where Finn had dropped him earlier.

"What are you talking about Kurt, this is really great! The doctors wouldn't justsaythat."

Blaine had to agree. "Yeah, they have to be so careful because of lawsuits and stuff that they're really meticulous about their word choice, which is probably the reason they said 'cautiously' at all. But honestly, if they're optimistic, we should be too. They say a coma patient can sense positive energy in the room. People willing him to get better and encouraging him, even while he's unconscious, can make a world of difference for his recovery."

Finn was looking at Blaine like he had just announced thathewas, in fact, the first person to walk on the moon.

"That issocool Blaine. It's totally gonna be like one of those lifetime movies Mom watches all the time. Like, the patient is in the hospital with no hope and then we go and talk to him and bam! He recovers miraculously! Maybe we can even bring a dog in or something. There was one day I actually paid attention in psych class and they talked about how dogs have been like, proven to improve the health of hospital patients. This is so freakin' cool!" Finn was giddy with excitement at all the possibilities.

"My father," Kurt said quietly, "is not a fucking lab rat in a science experiment. He is a human being and none of this stupid shit is actually going to do anything, so why don't you do us all a favor Finn and just stick your fucking 'optimism' up your ass."

Finn looked shocked at Kurt's outburst, Blaine, only sad.

"Don't even start with me," Kurt said, turning to look at Blaine. "Life is so goddamn easy for you Curly Q. Mommy and Daddy paid for everything you ever wanted. You're handsome and popular and you can have anybody in the school that your little heart desires. What the fuck do you know about hardship!" Kurt reached for the nearest thing his hand could find- the carton of cigarettes so carefully concealed in his jeans- and hurled them across the room, scattering the slender cylinders and tiny flakes of tobacco all over the floor.

Finn was staring open-mouthed, probably never having even realized before now that his brother smoked.

Blaine took a step closer to Kurt.

"I said don't Blaine. Don't!" Kurt screamed as Blaine continued to advance and pulled Kurt's slim, though long frame, easily into his strong arms, despite Kurt's fighting it.

"I know you're scared," Blaine murmured as Kurt pounded against his chest, tears beginning to slide unbidden down his flushed cheeks.

"You don't know fuck!" Kurt yelled, continuing his pathetic attempts at getting Blaine to release him, kicking and punching much in the manner of a two-year-old throwing a temper tantrum.

"It's okay to be scared," was all Blaine said, continuing to hold Kurt against his will.

"Leave me the fuck alone Anderson!" Kurt howled. "You don't know- you have no idea, what this is like! Your life has been so goddamn easy! You aren't like me, you don't know me, you never can! You don't know me!" He sobbed, his fists slowing somewhat in their onslaught as his body became too wracked with sobs to fight much longer.

"You don't know me, you don't know me," he kept repeating through his tears, even as he wilted into Blaine's embrace, bawling against the other boy's chest and clutching at his strong shoulders tightly.

Blaine just stroked his hair and allowed him to keep babbling. Finn was gaping at them both wide-eyed, frozen to his spot, unsure what to do. At Blaine's slight nod over Kurt's head, he was bounding back up the basement stairs, getting out of there as fast as he possibly could.

x-x-x-x-x-x

When Kurt finally slowed his crying, it had been a good hour or so Blaine thought, and he was sure the boy was exhausted. In fact, heknewhe was, if the way that Kurt had fallen asleep with his head still buried in Blaine's chest and the mantra of "you don't know me," still on his lips, was any indication. Blaine had carefully carried Kurt to bed, tucking him in reverently, after wiping the snot and remaining tears from his cheeks with some tissues. He had then crept upstairs to see if Carole or Finn were around.

He first ran into Carole.

"How is he?" she said, extreme worry lacing her tone. "I would've gone down to check on him but- Finn- Finn said he was hysterical, and that you were with him, and I trust you Blaine, and I'm sorry, I should've gone down..."

"No, no it's fine, Mrs. Hummel," Blaine cut in. "Kurtwashysterical. I think anyone else down there just would have sent him into another fit. He's cried himself to sleep now. It's okay, I don't mind looking after him."

Carole looked at Blaine with amazement shining in her motherly eyes. "You are such a good friend to him."

Blaine shrugged awkwardly. There it was again. That "friend" word. Blaine didn't feel like it appropriately described their relationship at all. In some ways, he didn't feel like he and Kurt weren't even close enough to call each other friends, but in other ways, he felt as though they were so much more than that. And oddly, after last night and this morning, he was finding himself much less conflicted about admitting to himself that yes, he wanted to be more than friends with Kurt. He hadlikedbeing with Sam, could even imagine himself with Sam again, if it weren't for Kurt. But the fact was, there was Kurt, and that was all that would ever really matter. He could at least admit it to himself now- Kurt mattered.Andhe liked being with guys sometimes. Yeah, guys turned him on. Maybe he was bisexual. That wasn't so bad. Lots of people were doing that, right? It didn't have to be a big deal. He never had toadmit itto anybody.

But Kurt- Kurt was a whole different story. Blaine's feelings for Kurt went deeper than just attraction, though he hated to acknowledge that fact. He wanted Kurt, wanted to bewithhim, desperately. There was no one else in the world he would've run to like he had run to Kurt last night, no one else whom he would've held while they cried and punched him and pushed him away. After all that, hestillwanted to be around. In fact, he didn't know how tonotbe around. Kurt clearly meant something to him. He didn't want any more halfways with Kurt. He wanted- well he wanted everything with him.

God, Blaine felt dizzy just from the realization. He turned his attention back to safer things, back to what Carole was saying to him.

"...know things haven't been easy on him since Burt and I got married and Finn and I moved in and I- I've tried to reach him, Iknowhe's a special boy. But he's determined to hate me. I want him to know I'm not trying to replace his mother. I would never dream of that. I just want to love him, in whatever way he'll let me. He needs someone to love him. He's broken Blaine, just so broken. It scares me. No one that young should have that much pain. I just want to make it easier on him, but he doesn't want to let me or Finn in. Sometimes he even shuts out his father. And I've been so worried about him ever since we found out about Burt. If Burt- if he- if he doesn't make it...it will destroy Kurt. He'll never recover." Carole was shaking her head, fat tears glistening openly in her eyes.

"Don't worry," Blaine said, taking her hands in his. "I know Kurt's angry and he wants to shut everyone out right now. But I'm not going to let him shut me out. I'm not going to let this destroy him. I'm going to be here."

"Blaine," Carole said with a watery smile. She suddenly swept the unsuspecting boy into a very tight hug. Blaine felt his throat constricting painfully. He couldn't remember the last time his own mother had hugged him like this.

"I knew you were special, from the first time I met you. There was something different about you, about the way Kurt was around you. You might not have seen it, but I did. He's been so different ever since you met him. You're a godsend," the woman said through her tears. Blaine smiled, though she couldn't see him, willing the tears that were threatening at the corners of his eyes not to fall.

"I won't let you down," Blaine promised quietly, because if he spoke any louder, his voice would probably crack. Mrs. Hudson squeezed him tighter at that.

"Oh shoot," she said with a small laugh when she pulled away. "I swore I wasn't going to cry about this. Not yet. There's no reason to cry." She quickly wiped her eyes and was suddenly back to business about everything. "Now. I'm sure he'll be hungry when he wakes up. And Finn's already starving of course. A little early lunch won't hurt. I'm going to make grilled cheese and tomato soup. It's a comfort food kind of day. You're staying aren't you?"

Blaine hesitated for only a moment before answering. "Yes Ma'am."

"Please," Carole said with a wave of her hand. "No 'ma'am'. And no 'Mrs. Hudson' either. It's Carole."

"My mother would kill me," Blaine said with a smile.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her," Carole replied with a wink. "Trust me, we aren't a very fancy family around here. No need for formalities. So I'll just get a start on making lunch. Finn's up in his room playing video games I think. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you joined him, or there's a TV in the living room. I'll just make some extra for Kurt and set it aside for when he wakes up."

"Actually," Blaine said. "Would you mind if I helped you?"

"Helped me? Cook?" Carole was aghast.

"Sure," Blaine shrugged. "When I was little I used to help...Marguerite. That was our maid." He blushed a bit, embarrassed by the fact that his family used to have maids, but there was no judgment on Carole's face. He continued, "I've always liked cooking, but my mom said it was a woman's job and not fit for a boy to involve himself in. So I'm not allowed to do it anymore."

Carole snorted a bit. "Well I think she just set the feminist movement back about fifty years or so with that comment alone. But- ah- I shouldn't be criticizing your mother. That's against the parent code. Personally Dear, I think it's very sweet that you want to help me out. Finn's never in his life offered to cook anything, which is probably actually a blessing, knowing the way disaster follows him around like a magnet. But you shouldn't do it just because you feel obligated."

"No, I promise, I really would like to help."

"Alright," Carole said with a big smile, ushering Blaine into the kitchen with her.

The time passed quickly with the jobs split between them. Blaine assembled the grilled cheeses, while Carole took over the job of actually grilling them, and stirring the soup. She had been very impressed when Blaine had taken the initiative of rummaging through her spice cabinet and adding dried basil to the steaming liquid. When the soup was finished and ladled out into bowls, Blaine took a spoon and added a dollop of sour cream to the center of each bowl, also seasoning that with some fresh basil he found in their garden. Carole was amazed.

"You should help me cook every night."

"It'd be my pleasure," Blaine said around a grin.

They talked all the while they cooked, Carole asking about Blaine's social life at school, and his parents, and what he wanted to do after he graduated, and Blaine finding out a little bit more about Kurt's life prior to his move to Lima and his transfer to McKinley, as well as about the perilous unification of the Hummel-Hudson families.

"Kurt's very close with his dad you know. Always has been. But insecure too, I think. They get along wonderfully, but they don't have very much in common, you know? Used to be, Kurt would have to plead with Burt to sit down with him and have tea parties every Wednesday. Or murder mystery dinners," Carole said with a fond chuckle. "He used to set those up for his father on a fairly regular basis."

"Did Kurt tell you all of this?"

"Oh no," Carole answered. "His father did. Kurt never would've opened up to me like that. Probably would've gone against this whole 'badass' rebellion thing he's got going on. He wasn't always like this. Used to be really shy I think, a really sweet, sensitive kid. But you know how other kids are to kids like that. He was attacked. Burt figures it was inevitable that Kurt would have a rebellious stage. But he misses his sweet little boy," Carole said sadly, with all the insight of a mother.

"So has Kurt always been gay? Or I mean, has Burt always known?"

Carole chuckled again. "There was a time when- oh Kurt would kill me for telling you this- but he tried to date a girl, sort of to get his dad's attention. Made out with her and stuff, purposely when his dad was home, trying to get Burt to walk in on them. But from what I know, that's the only time Kurt's ever been with any sort of girl. Burt knew Kurt was gay when he was merely three years old. And Kurt came out when he was oh, sixteen I think. It was never really a big issue between them. I love Burt for that," Carole said, her eyes shining in a way that made Blaine know that what she said was really the truth. "It was other people that gave Kurt trouble. But even I don't know that full story." She turned back to assembling two glasses of milk on a tray along with two bowls of soup and two plates of sandwiches.

"Here. Take this down to Kurt, see if you can wake him up and get him to eat with you."

"Sure," Blaine said, grabbing a couple bottles of water from the fridge because he was sure that after all that crying, Kurt would be feeling dehydrated. And on second thought, maybe some Advil, because he'd likely have a headache too.

"Kurt's real lucky to have you in his life, Blaine," Carole said with a smile and the words absolutely wrenched at Blaine's heart. She had no idea just how much Blaine wanted to be in Kurt's life- and more than that, Kurt didn't either. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time, this newfound realization. Blaine gave Carole a small smile and headed downstairs with the tray.

Kurt was still sleeping as Blaine set the tray on the nightstand but he slowly turned and cracked open his eyes when he felt Blaine's weight shifting the bed.

"You're still here," he observed with neither disdain nor excitement in his voice.

"Yes and I've brought lunch."

"Not hungry," Kurt said, rolling back over so that he was facing away from Blaine.

"That would be relevant, if you had any choice in the matter." Blaine knew that Kurt wasn't going to make this easy and so he was done playing nice. He was going to do what he had to do in order to keep Kurt afloat.

"I seem to recall telling you to fuck off," Kurt said without turning around, though Blaine could tell from his tone that he was surprised and maybe even a little impressed with Blaine's "take-no-prisoners" attitude.

"I seem to recall not caring," Blaine replied simply.

"Are you kidding me?" Kurt sat up with a huff. "Are you really going to give me a hard time right now Anderson? My father's in the hos-"

"Yes, your father's in the hospital, which means you have to keep your shit together so you can be there for him when he wakes up."

"We don't even know if he will wake up."

"I don't think I said 'if' Kurt. I said 'when'. Now eat your fucking soup."

Kurt raised an eyebrow at Blaine, warily taking the soup and plate of sandwiches that Blaine passed to him.

"Also, take two Advil and drink some water."

Kurt did so obediently before saying in a tone that was almost meek, "You're bossy."

"Only when you're behaving like a petulant child. Now you've had a good cry, so that part's over and it's time to man up."

Kurt sighed halfway through bringing the soup spoon to his mouth and asked the question Blaine knew would be coming sooner or later.

"Why are you doing this?"

Blaine didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell Kurt thewholetruth, obviously. So he settled on part of it.

"Because you need me."

Kurt scoffed. "I don't need anyone."

"Whatever Kurt. You tell yourself that. I'm not leaving, either way."

Blaine thought he saw a tiny smile tug at the corner of Kurt's lips as they continued eating their soup in silence.


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