I am not yours, not lost in you,

Not lost, although I long to be.

I Am Not Yours - Sara Teasdale

On the Sunday after New Years Kurt arrives back at Dalton to find Rachel Berry sitting on his dorm bed and talking at approximately a million miles a minute. Curiously, she doesn't seem to notice or care that Blaine apparently isn't listening.

"Oh, Kurt!" He's barely stepped through the door before Rachel's hugging him and chattering excitedly about a football game of all things.

"-expect you'll be there, you are the quarterback's brother and it's the biggest game of the season."

"I assume you're talking about the championship game. Much as it pains me, I will be in the stands cheering Finn on with Carole and my dad." Kurt doesn't really hate football as much as he pretends to, he just fails to find it particularly interesting and the cold winter air dries his skin out horribly.

"You're really going to watch a football game?" Blaine asks in disbelief and Kurt scowls.

"I happen to like football. Well, I like the scarves. But I'll have you know I was actually on the team last year." Rachel nods along enthusiastically.

"It's true. Kurt helped them win their only game last season." Kurt smirks.

"Sorry, still can't really imagine you playing football." Blaine says, laughing quietly.

"As it so happens, I have the video on my laptop." Kurt smiles sweetly, pulling the computer from his bag and setting it on Blaine's bed.

Blaine actually seems impressed as the Kurt on screen dances his way across the field and kicks the ball high over the posts. Even Kurt has to admit he's not bad, even if he has no desire ever to do such a thing again.

"Okay, now I can imagine you playing football." Blaine says, a smile forming on his face.

"He was a cheerleader too. Kurt's almost as talented as I am." Rachel says helpfully and Blaine gives Kurt a look that can only mean please god tell me there's video.

"You're just lucky Coach Sylvester demands on all the Cheerios performances being taped." He says and finds the folder full of files, pushing the laptop towards Blaine who grabs it eagerly and pulls it onto his lap. Kurt hears the opening of Four Minutes and smiles.

Unfortunately, Blaine's distraction only serves to divert Rachel's attention to Kurt and even before she's started talking, he braces himself for the guilt that's no doubt about to come.

Except it doesn't.

Which actually makes him feel awful anyway because Kurt's pretty sure he should be feeling guilty about making out with his friends boyfriend.

How exactly Rachel has failed to notice Blaine may not be 100% straight is a mystery anyway. Kurt had just assumed having two gay dads might have made her a little more sensitive to these things. Doesn't it strike her as odd that her boyfriend appears to be more interested in watching his male roommate's cheerleading videos than talking to her?

That's not fair. Kurt chides himself. Rachel's been here for ages, they've probably been talking for hours. Or making out.

He realises too late that he's missed everything Rachel's said, though apparently he's still managed enough 'mmm's and 'yeah's to get away with it. Even now he still hasn't quite synced his brain back with reality.

"Of course he does." Blaine is saying distractedly, his eyes still fixed on the computer screen while Rachel bounces excitedly on Kurt's bed.

"Oh my gosh Kurt, tell me everything about him!" Rachel's eyes are bright because apparently they're talking about Kurt's love life. Great.

Why, oh why has Blaine told her he likes someone? It's not a lie, but it's hardly a truth he can share with Rachel.

"Uh, he's a sophomore, he's in the Warblers-"

"He plays polo." Blaine adds helpfully, apparently having reached the end of available videos.

"And what does he look like? Cute?" Rachel leans in conspiratorially and Blaine's eyes sparkle with mischief that makes Kurt want to smack him, if only he wasn't certain Blaine would enjoy it. Well, if that's the way he wants to play it.

"A little shorter than me. Dark hair, green eyes. Muscular, but not in a gross way." Kurt blushes and makes himself continue. "Nice arms. Perfect ass." Rachel giggles and playfully swats his arm.

"Do you think he likes you?" She says softly and Kurt bites his lip, flicking his eyes over to Blaine.

"Of course he does. You should see the way he looks at Kurt when he thinks no-one else is watching, and anyone can see how much he tries to impress him with his solos." He nods and raises an eyebrow at Kurt.

"Kurt, you have to ask him out! We could go on double dates!" Kurt barely suppresses the hysterical laughter that bubbles up in his chest. He just described Rachel's own boyfriend to her, egged on by said boyfriend, and she's still managed not to notice.

"Maybe." He finally chokes out, certain he's the colour of a tomato by now.

"Hey, don't you have to be getting home soon?" Blaine suddenly says to Rachel, who looks at the time and hurries to her feet.

"Oh no, my dads will be upset if I'm late for dinner, but I'll call you later?" She says sweetly, and Kurt can't help but notice how obviously she's batting her eyelashes.

"Sure. Want me to walk you out?"

"I'm can manage, I'm perfectly capable of being an independent woman, thank you." Rachel says firmly, the look in her eyes completely giving her away.

"And of course you wouldn't dream of doing a little spying on your way out." Blaine teases her, already rising to his feet and walking her to the door. "Don't let Wes catch you."

"I'll go straight to my car, I promise." Rachel says without a hint of sincerity and rises on her toes to press a kiss to Blaine's mouth. Kurt looks away.

The door clicks shut softly and Kurt lets his his eyes fall closed as Blaine's footsteps move closer. He feels the mattress dipping down and the smell of Blaine's cologne washes over him, somehow untainted by Rachel's perfume, as he had expected it would be.

"A cheerleader?" Blaine says softly against the shell of his ear, and when Kurt opens his eyes, Blaine's are dark and fixed on him like he's edible.

"We won Nationals. I sang a fourteen minute Celine Dion medley in french." Kurt says breathlessly.

"Damn." Blaine says quietly and actually knocks the breath out of Kurt as he suddenly pitches forward, kissing him hot and wet and oh so good. Kurt topples backwards, landing with a soft thump on the mattress, Blaine pressing into his personal space and mouthing hotly down his throat.

Rachel probably hasn't even left the building yet and Kurt's already writhing on a bed with her boyfriend. He's not proud of himself, but he also has no intention of making Blaine stop. Not when his kisses are enough to make Kurt's head spin and his body thrum with heat.

He gasps in shock as Blaine suddenly rolls them, and Kurt only just manages to stop them before they hit the wall, panting as he stares down at the wild-eyed man beneath him. Blaine's hair is a mess, pulled free from the gel in tufts and sticking up in all directions. His cheeks are flushed, eyes bright even as his chest heaves against Kurt's.

Kurt kisses him again, brief and soft.

"Never took you for the sort of boy who liked cheerleaders." He muses quietly, the corner of his lips quirking into a smile. Blaine's chest vibrates beneath him as he laughs.

"Neither did I, but you should see yourself in a uniform." He murmurs, pressing another soft kiss against Kurt's mouth.

"I'll have to save the rest for some time Rachel isn't visiting if it's going to inspire this kind of reaction." Blaine tenses for a moment, before his smile softens into something a little sad.

"I'm sorry." He says, and Kurt recognises the look in his eyes, the self-loathing.

"I know." He whispers, for lack of a better reply.

"Do you want to stop?" Blaine asks, nervousness radiating off him in waves, and Kurt's heart breaks just a little. He wishes he knew what happened to make Blaine so frightened of the things he feels. In these moments when he lets his defenses down, it's like finding an entirely different person hiding beneath the veneer of charm and confidence. Kurt can't figure out how to reconcile the two Blaine's, or if he even should.

"I think - just for today." He says quietly. "Do you want to stop?" Blaine shakes his head.

"I should, but I don't." He says softly, and Kurt silently wishes he knew how to ease Blaine's self loathing, even if he can't do anything for his own.

"Well well, to what do I owe the honour Baby Gay?" Santana's voice purrs down the phone, sending a chill down Kurt's spine. She's going to hold this over him forever, but really, who else is there to ask? Puck is really the only other option, but there's every chance he holds some tiny shred of loyalty to Rachel and there's no way Kurt could trust him with this. Santana on the other hand, Santana can't stand Rachel. She's the perfect person to ask.

"I need your advice." He admits.

"I'm listening." Her voice sounds slightly distant and there's the banging of a door and the squeak of her Cheerios-issued sneakers against linoleum.

"I made out with Rachel's boyfriend." It all comes out in one long stream, slightly breathy and a lot nervous.

"And I care why?" She sounds disinterested, but Kurt can tell she's faking it, there's no way she'd have no interest in information that could potentially ruin Rachel.

"It's wasn't... an isolated event. It's happened a lot. Like, every day since school got back, a lot." He says carefully and imagines he can hear the sound of her ears pricking up.

"Really now? Well haven't you been a naughty boy? And here I was thinking that prep school of yours was boring."

"I guess I just wanted to ask, is it wrong that I don't really care? I mean, I know he's Rachel's boyfriend and I don't even know if he's really gay. It goes against all my morals, but I still don't care."

"Okay, One, if he's macking on you there's a pretty high chance he's a card-carrying member of the rainbow-brigade. So what you have to ask yourself is why he's clinging to Berry like a sparkly barnacle." Kurt has to admit he's at a loss on that one.

"I don't know, why?"

"Because she's safe, stupid. Think about it, she's happy with a few PG-13 make-outs and he gets to stay in the bedazzled closet. Everyone wins. Well except you. Which brings us to point number two. You said it yourself, cheating and the facilitation thereof goes against your morals, yet you don't really care that you're doing it. Ergo, you no longer possess some of those morals. Well done, at this rate you might not die a virgin." Leave it to Santana to end a perfectly reasonable argument with an insult.

"So you're saying it doesn't matter? That I should just keep on doing it and screw the consequences?"

"Now you're thinking like me. It matters to you, or you wouldn't have called. Look, just because you don't care doesn't mean you shouldn't. I always kind of assumed when you finally found someone they'd be like you. Out and proud and all that. Not some guy who's stuck in the closet and parading around with the worst beard ever."

"I'd be touched but I know you're just itching to follow that up with an insult to my taste in men."

"All I'm saying is you could do a lot better than Berry's leftovers." Her voice has actually gone soft, which is frightening because it's Santana. She doesn't do soft, or kind, or normal human emotions that aren't fueled by anger.

He's obviously quiet too long for Santana's liking, and she makes a loud sound of irritation.

"Do you like him?" She asks, all softness gone.

"I- I think so?"

"Then do what you gotta do. You should be happy, and if swapping spit with Rachel's prep school boyfriend gets you there then go for it. Don't let yourself settle for feeling shitty just because the world thinks it's all you deserve." She actually sounds angry now, and Kurt can't help but wonder if maybe she's giving out advice she isn't quite brave enough to take.

"Okay."

"And before you start begging, no, I am not going to tell Rachel, no matter how much I'd like to see her cry. But don't think I won't use this against her. Planting the seeds of doubt and all that."

"It's not like I'd actually be able to stop you, but know that I disapprove of anything you plan on doing."

"Of course you do Lady Lips, but that's okay. Now go get some and make your Auntie 'Tana proud."

Kurt sighs as he listens to the dial tone.

Blaine is playing footsie beneath the table and it's absolutely disgusting.

It probably wouldn't bother Kurt so much if he and Blaine hadn't been making out in his car just ten minutes ago, but they had, and now Blaine's giving Rachel a rather dopey-eyed look that makes Kurt grind his teeth. Worse still is Rachel's audacity to ignore said look and Blaine's foot nudging her calf and complain about the state of New Directions. Which is not to say Kurt doesn't care about his former teammates, but he just doesn't see any reason to be that torn up about a football game.

"I mean look at us, the stars of two rival show choirs sitting down to coffee. Our school is so messed up we can't even keep our own football team together." Mercedes laments, and okay, Kurt isn't totally heartless.

"Why hasn't Finn told me anything about this? I mean, we live together. I bring him a glass of warm milk every night just in hopes that we'll have a little lady chat." He leaves the 'every night I'm home at least' part unspoken.

"Warm milk? Really?" Blaine smirks as he sucks his stirrer, like he doesn't know the effect that will have on Kurt.

"It's delicious." Kurt responds, licking a hint of foam off his lip in retaliation.

"Finn's too proud to complain. He feels like he has to be strong for everyone, but I know it's just killing him inside." Rachel says, and even Kurt has to admit that's probably fairly accurate. Far too much of Finn's reputation hinges on winning this game for him to admit their almost certain loss just yet. "I know we parted on poor terms, but I hope he realises if he accepted my friendship I could make him feel a lot better you know?"

Kurt could smack her. He settles for telling her to let it go instead, feeling an odd sense of satisfaction at her chastened expression.

"I just wish that there was a way we could help, that's all." She says slowly, and however self-centered Rachel may be, this is something Kurt has no trouble believing.

"Yeah, and the worst part is how bummed the guys are. I mean, they already suffer enough abuse just being in Glee. I really think winning the game could have eased some of the pressure, at least for a little while." Mercedes adds.

"Wait, so the whole team quit?" Blaine asks around a mouthful of biscotti, but he looks intrigued, like he's noticed something everyone else has missed.

"Everyone not in glee. You can't play football with five guys, and one of them's in a wheelchair." Mercedes replies, clearly not following Blaine's line of thought.

"Well the good news is, you actually only need four more guys. High school regulations actually let you play a couple of guys short if you want to." Blaine says, smiling a little at the look that crosses Rachel's face. "But if they figure out a way to make it work, you can bet that we'll definitely be there to cheer them on." He adds, waving a hand towards Kurt.

"Totally." Kurt agrees, even though, ew, football. "Blaine and I love football. Well, Blaine loves football, I love scarves." Blaine's fond chuckle is almost enough to make it seem worth it.

It's cold in the bleachers, even wrapped in their coats and scarves and huddled under the rugs Carole brought with her. Blaine produces a thermos of tea and two cups, smiling as he hands Kurt one and the warmth seeps through their gloves.

Down on the field, the team are huddled together, several members with plaits hanging from under their helmets and looking tiny and breakable beneath their bulky pads.

"She's so small." Blaine says quietly, eyes fixed on Rachel who now appears to be smacking her helmet against Puck's and shouting something.

"Try not to think about it." Burt advises from his spot beside Carole, clearly remembering Kurt's one and only football game.

The first half is completely disappointing right up until the moment Tina almost gets herself flattened by one of the opposing team and Finn disappears from the field. Kurt also learns he doesn't hate football nearly so much when Blaine's huddled close and explaining the plays to him.

The lights drop before the halftime show starts, and this Kurt can enjoy with or without Blaine. There's artificial fog drifting covering the ground, swirling around the legs of the figures getting into place, and for a brief moment everything is utterly silent.

Then the lights flare and the music blasts, Santana and Rachel's voices high and clear over the backing track. The absent football team have appeared too, in ripped shirts and thick makeup, all dancing in perfectly synchronized motion. Kurt can't deny they're good.

At first he does't even notice the lone figure standing on the field in front of the bleachers, watching the dancing and clutching a football jersey in his hand. He thinks nothing of it, no doubt a football player who refused to participate, but for some reason he can't seem to drag his gaze away.

Then the person turns, looking up into the enthusiastic crowd and catching Kurt's eye for a moment before turning to look back at the field.

Karofsky.

Of course he's here. He's on the team. They all know what he did. They don't even care. They probably think you deserve it. Laugh about it in the locker room.

"Kurt? You okay?" Blaine's voice intrudes into his thoughts, jolting him back to reality. Something's wrong. His chest feels tight, stomach rolling with nausea as he watches Dave running across the field to join the dancers.

Everything is too close and too loud and all Kurt can think about is that he needs to get out, now. His legs won't even work, tangling with the blanket and making him trip, the metal of the bleachers rushing up to meet his face.

"Woah!" Someone catches him, hauling him upright and making his head spin. The ground sways violently beneath him and a hand presses against his chest.

"Shh, it's going to be alright, we're going to get you somewhere quiet in just a minute okay?" Kurt makes a noise in his throat, trying to speak even as it closes up, breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

Why is everything so loud? He's being pulled down the steps, between the rows of bleachers and towards the school. It's quieter here, aside from his labored breathing and the thoughts that just won't be silenced.

Have to get away, can't let him see. He knows you're here.

Someone warm presses against him, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

"You're okay. Deep breaths." The voice is soft, kind. Kurt moves towards it, pressing his face against soft fabric, a coat or scarf maybe, and letting the sweet smell of cologne overtake his senses.

Blaine he realises and feels himself begin to calm, just a little, but enough to suck a ragged breath into his aching lungs. He finally manages to unclench his hands from Blaine's coat and take a step backwards so he's hugging Blaine instead clinging to him like a limpet.

"You back with me?" Blaine says softly, searching out his face, and Kurt gives him a shaky smile, still working on breathing before speaking.

"My dad-?" He finally croaks out, his throat feeling raw.

"I promised I'd get you calmed down. I don't know if you want to go back or-"

"No."

I'm okay, going to take a walk with Blaine till the game ends. Meet you at the car after. x

He hits 'send' and takes Blaine's hand, trying to ignore the nervous energy that's itching under his skin. He knows it's just adrenalin but knowing that doesn't make it feel any less awful.

Be safe. We're going to talk about this later. Comes the reply from his dad. Kurt whimpers quietly.

"You okay?" Blaine asks, hand tightening around Kurt's.

"My dad wants to talk about it. I'm going to have to tell him why it happened. Isn't it bad enough I had a panic attack without talking about why I had a panic attack?"

"Kurt, he's your dad and he just wants to know you're okay. And whatever got you freaked out tonight, maybe it'd help to talk about it."

"Not to my dad."

"Well, you could talk to me? I really think it might help you to get it off your chest." Blaine offers helpfully, his fingers squeezing Kurt's where they're laced together.

"Karofsky." Kurt whispers, forcing the name into the still night air, barely loud enough to be heard.

"Is that the guy who was bullying you? Before?" Kurt nods, forcing himself to keep each breath even, fear still curling just beneath the surface.

"He was my first kiss. First one that counted anyway."

"I'm guessing you didn't want him to kiss you." Blaine guesses, giving Kurt an odd look as he stops halfway along the path, still clutching his hand tight.

"No. I-I didn't want it when he did the other things either." His mouth seems to be saying things before his brain can stop it, and even now it's still pouring out in a panicked babble.

"He touched me. Out-outside my clothes, but I could smell him on them and my dad got me transferred after I burned them all."

"Kurt, that wasn't your fault, what he did to you was wrong and no-one would blame-."

"I enjoyed it." Kurt whispers and Blaine's head snaps back, staring him straight in the eye.

"What do you mean?" He says very quietly and Kurt feels the shame and disgust curl in his stomach, tries to enjoy the last few moments of Blaine's hand warm in his before he ruins everything.

"When he touched me, I... I got hard." He breathes, and it's awful, the way Blaine's looking at him, the way Kurt shivers as he drops his hand. Sick. Sick and disgusting. Except Blaine doesn't start yelling or pushing Kurt away, instead he pulls him into a warm hug, holding their bodies close while Kurt trembles.

They do a strange sort of step-shuffle until Kurt is leant against the side of the school building, Blaine pulling away to rest their foreheads together.

"I'm not an expert, but I'm pretty sure your body doesn't know the difference between a touch you want and one you don't. Don't let him win this like this. What he did to you was unforgivable, and it wasn't your fault. I promise." He's whispering, but it's heavy with all the weight of words unspoken. Somehow Kurt knows that Blaine has been in his position before, perhaps not under the same circumstances, but small and afraid all the same.

"You have to tell your dad."

"But-"

"No, Kurt, you have to. He'd want to know. You know he would."

"Okay." Kurt whispers, and it's as if some strange weight has been lifted from his chest. It's not completely gone, but the sheer relief of telling someone is almost more than he can bear. He hasn't felt so light in months.

"Can I show you something?" He asks, taking Blaine's hand once more and pulling him along before he has a chance to answer.

The locker room is quiet but brightly lit. Through the high windows they can hear the cheers from the stadium. Clearly things are going well for the second half.

"Why are we here?" Blaine asks as Kurt drags him towards the row of innocuous red lockers.

"This is where it happened." He says quietly, pointing to the small indentation on one of the doors where his head had collided with the metal. He feels strangely detached from it, though he can remember the moment the mark came to be with sickening clarity.

"Kurt-" Blaine begins, then stops himself, clearly at a loss for what to say.

"Kiss me." Kurt says softly, looking around the cold empty room and then back at Blaine's shocked expression. "I know it's going to take more than this, and my dad's probably going to make me see a therapist or something, but right now what I really need is to make one good memory in this place." He expects Blaine to say no. Expects he won't understand why Kurt needs this.

But Blaine is full of surprises.

"Okay." He murmurs and pulls Kurt closer by the pockets of his coat, pressing their lips together softly. It only lasts for a moment, but it makes Kurt feel warm right down to his toes.

"Thank you." He murmurs. When he gets home he'll talk to his dad, and it'll be the hardest thing he's ever had to do, but it'll be worth it. For now, he's happy to stand in the locker room with a boy he's fairly certain he might just love, and almost as certain might love him back.