Chapter 5

Monday.

"Need a ride, Puckerman?"

Puck glanced around. There was nobody in sight, so riding with the gays this once wouldn't hurt his cred.

"Yeah, thanks." Puck hopped in the back and slapped Kurt on the shoulder. "Just going home. Couldn't get anybody to buy me any beers tonight," he finished with a sigh.

Blaine and Kurt exchanged a look.

"We have plenty of beer back at my place…" Blaine trailed off.

Puck visibly perked up.

"You offering, man?"

"Sure," Kurt nodded. "I can stay sober, so I can drive you home afterwards. Blaine likes beer more than me anyway."

It was decent ride, Blaine was actually able to talk about football, and there wasn't even any fruity music playing. Puck was looking forward to having something to drink. Nothing else really seemed to help him these days.

"You live way out here?" Puck whistled.

"No noise complaints from neighbors," Blaine shrugged.

"Sweet," Puck approved. He followed Kurt into the kitchen, and was still grinning in anticipation when everything went black.

His head hurt, was his first thought, then - where the hell am I? And - why can't I move?

His hands and legs were tied down, and he could turn his head, but couldn't really lift it up… He realized there was something keeping his neck down, and when he tried to open his mouth - he couldn't.

"He's awake." It was Hummel's voice, all breathy and excited.

What the fuck? Puck thought, and thrashed, but the ties held him tight. Then he realized he was almost completely naked, save for his boxers. Oh my god, this is some gay sex thing!

"Excellent," Anderson fucking purred. "I'll show you a few things, then you can try if you like."

He stepped closer, and something glinted in his hand.

It was a knife.

Puck panicked.

"Someone's scared," Blaine said softly. "Look at his eyes, Kurt."

Hummel stared down at him, and Puck tried to give him a beseeching look. Whatever Hummel's freak boyfriend was trying to do to him - surely Hummel didn't want to hurt him.

"What do you want me to do first?"

Kurt was quiet for a minute.

"Cut him, please."

Blaine chuckled and held the knife over Puck's belly.

Puck sucked in his stomach as much as he could, trying to get away from the blade. Anderson slowly moved it up his chest, until it rested right between his nipples.

"It takes hardly any pressure to pierce the skin," Anderson said, and pressed the knife down.

Kurt watched, mesmerized, as Blaine drew the blade down, leaving a line of blood. Puck's screams went almost unheard, muffled as they were.

"Duct tape works well as a gag, don't you think?"

"Yes," Kurt whispered. "Do it again, please."

Blaine smiled and cut a triangular shape below the initial line. Puck was thrashing now, trying desperately to get free.

"I'm an expert on rope tying, aren't I darling?"

"He is," Kurt agreed, and his eyes flashed in a way that terrified Puck. What the hell had happened to Hummel?

The pain didn't stop, it just got worse. Blaine - Anderson - the fucking psycho - was making cuts all over his chest and stomach, and his arms - but he hadn't hit any arteries or anything, Puck thought with a tiny measure of relief. If only he could get free before he hurt anything vital.

He'd get free - and get this psycho locked up. Puck imagined it for a second - the way people would look at him, knowing he had saved them all from this creep. Hummel would go to a hospital or something, and get better, and be really damn grateful to Puck when he finally got out. So fucking grateful that maybe he'd even -

White hot pain hit him suddenly.

Blaine chuckled as he finished putting out a match on Puck's wrist. The second one he did on his belly, and the third on his left nipple. With each jolt, Puck looked more terrified.

Puck was writhing in pain now, and Blaine glanced over at his boyfriend to see his reaction.

Kurt was watching, wide eyed - but even more telling, was his erection pressing against his slacks.

"Want to try, beautiful?" Blaine asked, very pleased with his love.

"Yes please…" Kurt took a lit match and looked down at Puck, considering its placement.

Don't, please, Puck's eyes begged.

Kurt remembered all the times he'd asked for mercy from his tormentors. Puck had laughed and thrown him a little harder into the locker, or made sure Kurt hit his head as he was flung into the dumpster.

His hand drifted down - and pressed the match into the soft flesh of the neck. Puck tried to move his head out of the way, but he was trapped.

Well and thoroughly trapped. Escape looked farther and farther away with each new burn and cut. But he wasn't one to give up. He kept trying, and trying, and his body was hurting, but he couldn't stop trying...

"Will you do it?" Kurt asked suddenly.

Blaine smiled.

"Of course, love, anything for you." He pulled Kurt close and kissed him, slow and deep.

He nuzzled their noses together, and that got him a happy little giggle.

"Shall I stab him, or cut his throat? I could even smother him or strangle him if you prefer."

Kurt considered, and kissed Blaine softly.

"Stab him," Kurt decided.

Puck flailed - one of these ties had to be weak.

"Good choice," Blaine smiled. He bent down and picked up the edges of the plastic wrap. He had laid it beneath Puck, and now he folded the wrap over his body. Most of the blood Puck lost would stay there when they moved the body for disposal.

Kurt reached and took his hand. Blaine squeezed it, and looked down at Puck.

"You really should have treated Kurt better," Blaine said, shaking his head.

The knife came flashing down.

Kurt watched Puck's face, heard the muffled gurgle, saw his body jerk - and then still.

Blaine watched Kurt - and saw his eyes roll back as he came in his pants.

"Fuck," he said hoarsely. "Kurt, you… So hot, oh my god."

He pinned Kurt to the wall and kissed him fiercely, before pushing him to the floor. Kurt eagerly undid his pants and looked up, meeting Blaine's eyes as he took his cock into his mouth.

Blaine groaned.

"Good boy."

Kurt felt as sweet as ever, and the way he looked, so adoring and satisfied and no trace of anger or regret - just love and obedience… Blaine shuddered and held Kurt's head in place as he came down Kurt's willing throat.

Some time later, he pulled Kurt up to him, and looked deeply into his eyes.

"I love you."

"I love you too," Kurt smiled beautifully.

The body lay there, completely forgotten.

Tuesday.

Arriving early to duet practice, Rachel stopped outside the choir room.

"I'm standing across from you… I've dreamt alone, now the dreams won't do."

The voice was beautiful, clear, and emotive. And definitely Santana's.

"Truth be told, my problem solved - you mean the world to me but you'll never know. You could be cruel to me… while we're risking the way that I see you… But I see you… But I see you…"

Pressing her face to the glass of the door, Rachel could see the other girl's face - and was astonished to see it streaked with tears.

"But I see you…" Santana sang, her eyes lifting up, staring into the distance. "But I see you!"

Rachel couldn't pull herself away from the glass, completely entranced.

"But I see you," Santana whispered. Slowly, she put her face in her hands.

Rachel could see Brad walking over, and wrapping his arms around the crying girl. Realizing suddenly that Santana would probably kill her if she caught her watching this, Rachel scurried off, trying to ignore the way her own eyes were suddenly brimming with tears.

"We spent the evening alone," Blaine whispered, as he held Kurt beside the car. "Anyone asks anything more, think of what I did to you last week in the choir room. Your blush will be more than enough to stop them from asking."

"Okay," Kurt breathed, burrowing his face into Blaine's neck.

"You're wonderful, love," Blaine told him softly.

"Love you too," Kurt sighed.

Blaine turned his chin up and gave him a thoroughly deep kiss.

"Get some!" Mike yelled from across the parking lot.

"We have four days until Sectionals!" Kurt said angrily. "The least he could do is show up."

"He wasn't in class today either," Quinn pointed out. "Did anybody else see him?"

When everybody shook their heads, Santana snorted.

"He's probably home hungover."

Mercedes took out her phone and dialed Puck's number.

For a moment Kurt's insides felt like they had been frozen. What had they done with the phone? Blaine had tucked him in bed last night… And in the morning Blaine had promised he had disposed of last night's… trash. Had he taken care of the phone too?

Blaine took his hand, and Kurt looked at him. His boyfriend gave him a sweet smile, and Kurt's fears washed away. Of course Blaine took care of everything.

Wednesday.

"Puck's mother said she hasn't seen him since Monday morning." Rachel reported as she walked into club. "She thought he may be staying with friends." She looked at Mercedes.

Mercedes looked at Quinn.

Quinn looked at Finn.

Finn looked at Brittany.

Brittany looked very pointedly at Artie.

"What?" Artie asked, bemused.

"You're Puck's best friend," Brit declared.

"Really?" Artie looked shocked. "I… That's… Cool."

"So do you know anything?" Santana asked impatiently. Her toes had been tingling since Puck had skipped Glee on Tuesday, and that meant that there was trouble.

"Well, we hung out last week, for our duet," Artie frowned, trying to remember. His face slowly paled.

"What is it?" Mercedes prompted him.

"It was… just a casual comment," Artie said uneasily.

"Spit it out, Wheels," Santana said sharply.

"He said there wasn't anything here for him… That he… sometimes thought about… Hitching a ride out of town and never coming back." Artie looked miserable.

"Oh my god," Tina was horrified.

Kurt glanced over at Quinn and saw she had a strange expression on her face that he couldn't quite place.

Mike pulled her close and frowned. He'd never pegged Puck for a quitter. But after the baby, and juvie…

It must have been too much for him to take.

Thursday.

"Kurt, I have something important to ask you."

"Go ahead," Kurt smiled at his friend.

"I know you've been practicing with Mike and Brittany, for your number, and I just wanted to know…"

Kurt waited about a minute until Tina had the courage to ask.

"Do they seem… very close?"

"Mike and Brit have been friends since last year," Kurt pointed out. "I'd say they're close. But that's not what you mean, is it?"

"No," Tina said softly. "It's just - she's so pretty, and they both love dancing so much - why wouldn't he like her?"

"Tina." He had to be firm. "Mike loves you, everyone can see that. Trust him. If you can't - then that's a problem."

"It's… it's not that," Tina insisted. "It's just… I guess I still don't see why Mike likes me."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and Kurt seized her by the hands.

"You are beautiful, smart, talented, and incredibly kind - and Mike knows it. If you don't believe me, go talk to him. If you're doubting yourself or your relationship, talking to Mike should be the first thing you do."

Tina nodded slowly, then leaned forward and kissed Kurt's cheek in thanks.

Saturday.

Santana brushed her hair furiously, ignoring Artie and Brittany, who were making out in his wheelchair.

"Your hair looks lovely," Rachel told her.

The other girl ignored her.

"Are you all right, Santana?" Rachel tried again. "That's the fifth time you've brushed it in the past half hour."

Santana shot her a poisonous look.

"Don't you have to go wax your feet, hobbit?"

Rachel stared, then giggled.

"Oh my god you actually saw Lord of the Rings."

"No I didn't… Okay… Fine, my dad loves those movies," Santana grumbled, rolling her eyes.

"Don't worry, it doesn't hurt your cred in my book."

"In your book," Santana quirked up an eyebrow.

Rachel laughed again, and put her last hairpin in place.

"We're going to win, you know."

"A bunch of losers like us?" Santana said, quiet for once.

Rachel reached out impulsively and grabbed Santana's hand. The other girl froze.

"Losers like us."

And slowly, uncertainly at first, Santana smiled back at her. And ever so slightly, squeezed her hand.

"Kurt, this is for you."

He reached out and took the bag from a smiling Tina.

"What you said… You were so right. And you kept me from doing something really stupid. So I… I thought you might want to wear this for your performance."

He reached in and found… White cotton pants with red stripes down the sides, and a plain white wife beater.

"It's not exactly designer, but I thought, since Freddie was always wearing it…" Tina said shyly.

Grinning, Kurt pulled her into a tight embrace.

"I love it, Tina."

"Go on," she pushed him away excitedly. "Try it on!"

Chuckling, Kurt hurried behind a screen and pulled it on. It was very snug, but he just managed it.

"You are wearing that for the performance," Blaine said lowly. "

Kurt looked at him and was treated to a smoldering look. He blushed - how could Blaine still make him do that, even after everything they'd done together?

All the boys were supposed to wear dark blue button up shirts, so for his solo, Kurt would wear it unbuttoned over the wife beater. He would slip offstage and change into black pants between Don't Stop Me Now and Valerie.

"It's worth the trouble," Rachel told him decidedly. "Oh, you look just perfect!"

The girls were wearing dark blue dresses to match the colors of the boys' outfits. The dresses fell to their knees and spun round perfectly when they twirled, as Tina was happily showing Mike. Kurt was glad to see her looking unworried again.

This was his chance, Kurt thought, finally - his first performance solo.

"You're going to blow them all away," Blaine whispered, and brought their lips together. Kurt's worries faded with every moment that Blaine kissed him.

"Next up - the New Directions."

Kurt strutted onstage and ignored the racing of his heart.

The applause as he finished was deafening. Grinning proudly, Kurt took Mike and Brittany's hands and bowed - then twirled offstage.

Blaine was waiting for him with open arms. After a quick, fierce hug, Blaine helped him change pants, and even buttoned his shirt for him - Kurt was just too happy to focus. He heard Santana starting the second number, and knowing he had to hurry, took Kurt's face in his hands and looked at him seriously.

"You are amazing, Kurt. You know I fall even more in love with you every day?"

Kurt smiled, trying not to cry.

In a moment, they were dancing back onstage, falling right into the choreography, but Blaine couldn't stop thinking about how wonderful Kurt had been.

He knew that in a few short years, his love would be singing on an even bigger stage, thrilling Broadway with his talent…

With his voice, and with Blaine beside him, how could Kurt fail?