“Charlie, we accept the love we think we deserve.” –The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chobsky

--

When Blaine woke up the follow morning he was partially shocked about his surroundings. It was like going to a sleepover and waking up forgetting where you went, like sleeping in a hotel and opening your eyes expecting to find yourself in your bed. When he opened his eyes however, he found himself slipping off a leather couch that definitely wasn’t his own. His legs were tangled and contorted in a blanket around his waist and he sat up slowly, squinting against the light and carding his fingers through his hair. He could hear someone making breakfast in the other room and as he started to wake up more, the night was coming back to him.

He took in his environment for a moment; the furniture, the wine bottles, the stereo system and then it dawned on him. Kurt. Blaine groaned and sat up fully, tearing the blanket away from his body. He smirked to himself a little when he saw the sweat pants and flexed stretched his arms above his head.

“Fuck,” he hissed at himself when he stretched his fingers too far on his right hand and sent pain ripping through his knuckles. Blaine snapped his hand back down and slowly curled his hand back into a fist, wincing.

At the sound, Kurt paused, flipping two pieces of bacon over on the skillet he was cooking on before calling out. “Blaine?”

“Hey,” he rasped and Kurt smiled to himself, walking out of the kitchen to Blaine. “Morning sunshine,” Kurt said softly with a smile, sitting down next to Blaine. “How’d you sleep?” Blaine groaned again, his throat too sore to really feel like holding up his end of the conversation. Instead, he just dropped his head onto Kurt’s shoulder and shut his eyes again, breathing slowly through his nose. Kurt rested his temple against the top of Blaine’s head for a moment before inhaling deeply.

“Come on. I’m making breakfast. You’re welcome to the shower if you want it.” Kurt offered, standing up slowly and watching Blaine collapse into where he had just been sitting. Kurt scoffed. “Blaine, it’s like ten thirty. Even for a Saturday, this is pathetic. Up.”

“Have you ever considered being a mother as a profession?” Blaine mumbled, pushing himself up and to his feet. Kurt cocked his head. “I don’t really know how to respond to that... Regardless, there are fresh towels in the closet by the bathroom door. I’ll leave your breakfast in the oven so it doesn’t get cold.” Blaine stared at him for a moment with soft eyes and smiled warmly.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. Kurt smiled back, “You’re welcome.” Blaine swallowed thickly and just as Kurt turned to walk back to the kitchen he spoke up. “No, Kurt,” He looked at Blaine from over his shoulder and Blaine stepped closer to him. “Thank you.” He said again, slower, more enunciated. Kurt bit his lip. “You’re welcome.” Kurt echoed.

Blaine truly hoped Kurt understood his message and as they turned away from each other, Blaine taking a towel from the closet, Kurt returning to making breakfast, he couldn’t help but wish he could run back into the kitchen and just kiss him again. Wrap his arms around Kurt’s slender waist and kiss him deeply and slowly. Blaine wanted to push him back against the fridge and have Kurt wrap his legs around his waist, carry him off to the bedroom and—

He shook his head, blinking his eyes rapidly and trying to shake the thought from his head.

You can’t do this Blaine, you’ll make yourself crazy. You’re taken and so is he. Just let him go.

With a snarly sigh, Blaine pushed the door to the bathroom open and stripped of his clothes. It felt kind of awkward, standing naked in the washroom of his best friend’s bathroom after just sleeping on his couch and in his pants. Regardless, he turned on the water, stepping under the spray and letting the warmth relax him. For a while he just stood there; eyes closed and let the water pour down his body. He knew he couldn’t just move in with Kurt suddenly, regardless of how tempting the idea was. What he knew was that Kurt took away from all of his problems with Jason and he could never thank him well enough. Blaine wanted more than anything to be truthful with Kurt, tell him about everything that was going on and had gone on, but he didn’t know how because Blaine himself didn’t know what it was. The rational side of him knew that his relationship was heading downhill and heading there fast, but his heart, the side of him that still truly loved Jason, told him to just hold it out, wait until he figures out whatever was going on right now so they could try to rebuild and get each other back.

Blaine tilted his head back, feeling his neck pop and turning around to shampoo in his hair. He massaged his fingers deep into his scalp, relaxing himself while also trying to nurse a headache he woke up with. After rinsing his hair and conditioning it he stood under the downfall for a few minutes longer than was probably necessary before finally resigning to turn off the water and meet Kurt in his kitchen for breakfast. Blaine towelled himself dry and slipped his pyjamas back on before hanging his used towel on the rack, taking one final deep breath to calm himself down and opening the door.

Kurt was seated at his kitchen table, a cup of coffee placed in front of him, appearing to be studying a crossword puzzle quite intently. When he heard Blaine approached him, however, he completely discarded it and smiled. “Hey,” he said softly and Blaine gave him a gentle grin. “I put your plate in the oven so it wouldn’t get cold. There’s coffee on the counter if you want it,” Kurt offered and Blaine nodded but didn’t leave his place.

“Thanks Kurt, but I’m really not that hungry.” He mumbled and Kurt just eyed him slowly. “A-are you sure? I can make tea or something; it’s really not a problem.” But Blaine just shook his head, taking a seat across the table from his and kneading his fingers against his temples. He knew Kurt was staring at him with nothing but pity and it just made him feel worse. The last thing he wanted from anyone was sympathy where it wasn’t needed.

“How’s your hand?” Kurt interjected tentatively and Blaine glanced down at his knuckles. The bandages had shifted in his sleep and were starting to peel from the water of the shower. He took his better hand and peeled away the dressing slowly and carefully, gritting his teeth when it pulled at the damaged skin. Now that the blood had dried all of the cuts were revealed; tiny, deep incisions all about the knuckles of his right hand with two or three remarkably deep ones near where his fingers became the back of his hand. “Not that bad for someone who beat up a mirror and lost,” he answered and Kurt smiled. “Can I see?”

Blaine stood up and walked closer to Kurt with his hand extended for him to see. Gingerly, he took Blaine’s hand in his own and inspected the cuts for himself. “Come on,” Kurt gestured his head towards the bathroom. “Let’s just do it one more time and then you should just be able to like, wear a band-aid or something.”

Kurt swiped his forearm across the mirror to clear the steam that had gathered on it from Blaine’s shower and only half focused on the appearance of his own reflection before taking out the first aid kit and redressing Blaine’s hand. He watched Kurt and Kurt knew he was staring at him the whole time.

“What?” He mumbled softly and Blaine just shook his head. “Nothing,” he answered, relaxing his fingers. “Still just wondering how you got to good at this.” Kurt looked up at him through his eyelashes and Blaine smirked. “And why my head hurts to badly,” he added, palming his forehead with his free hand and Kurt chuckled, clearly remembering the night much more clearly.

“You drank an entire bottle of wine by yourself and nearly through your cell phone out of my window after Jason called the fourth time. Your colour commentary on Jenna and Matt’s relationship was quite insightful, though.” He explained and Blaine just took a deep breath. “... Great.”

“It’s okay,” Kurt assured, sitting next to Blaine on the edge of the bathtub after finishing his hand. Blaine closed his eyes for moment, hands resting on his thighs. Kurt stroked his hand up and down his back in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “You’ve had a rough couple of days, huh?” He asked quietly and Blaine nodded, eyes still closed. “You know you can tell me anything right?” Blaine nodded again. “I know.” He said it quietly, tentatively. Blaine knew what he was implying and he knew that he had to tell Kurt about Jason sooner or later before it got too out of hand. He didn’t want to drown in his relationship and get caught in something he thought he could handle, but Blaine didn’t want to drag Kurt into something that he didn’t need to get involved with.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s going on?” Kurt asked softly and Blaine took a deep breath before nodding. He closed his eyes and cleared his throat, but it felt as dry as paper. Blaine could feel tears forming in his eyes before he even uttered a word on the subject. “Is it Jason?” Kurt asked again, the same question as the night prior but somehow it sounded completely different; less insistent. Blaine nodded, feeling his lip begin to quiver. “How long has this been going on?”

“Couple months,” he whispered, afraid of what could happen if he admitted it too loudly. “He uh,” Blaine paused, sniffling and trying not to break down further. He put his forehead his hand for a moment before looking up a Kurt. “He thinks I’m cheating on him. W-with you.”

Your abusive boyfriend thinks you’re cheating on him and then you kiss me? Isn’t that doing exactly what he thinks?

“Can I tell you a secret?” Kurt asked, going for comforting as he tried to change the subject, disregarding his previous thought. Blaine turned to him and nodded, wiping a tear from his cheek. “When I was in high school, I completely hated myself. I was bullied and no one cared. I was barely passing most of my classes and I had no friends. Everyone hated me. I hated me. And one day it got so bad that I just wanted it to be over. So one night I just couldn’t handle it anymore and I just wanted everything to be over. I locked myself in my bathroom, blasted the Moulin Rouge soundtrack and took a razor to my wrist.” Blaine’s mouth parted in shock and Kurt exhaled slowly. “I figured, if I have to live in a world where people can be this terrible, why would I want to be in it any longer than I had to? Maybe, if I just killed myself, someone would finally notice me. Someone would finally notice all the shit I put up with.”

Kurt rolled up his sleeve, revealing two deep, precise scars on his pale wrist. “Looking back on it, I’m glad my dad found me but at the time it just made me feel worse; it was just another thing I failed at. I couldn’t even kill myself for Christ’s sake. What could I possibly be good for?”

“Kurt, I’m so sorry,” Blaine whispered. “All I’m saying, Blaine, is that no matter how dark it might seem right now, you’re not alone, okay? You’re never gonna be alone. You’re gonna get through whatever it is that’s going on with you and Jason. You know that, don’t you?” Blaine didn’t answer, hoping it was more of a rhetorical question and Kurt didn’t push for an answer. He placed his hand on Blaine’s knee for a second, squeezing once and then letting go.

“I should go...” Blaine said and Kurt sighed, standing up to walk out of the bathroom. Blaine changed back into his clothes from the day before; placing Kurt’s borrowed sweatpants on his bed. “Thanks, Kurt...” Blaine mumbled before shutting his apartment door and walking to his car, feeling as though he said something he shouldn’t have. Blaine thought maybe if he had just bit his tongue and acted ignorant to Kurt’s comment then he might not feel as upset as he did. It was fact that almost every time Blaine and Kurt had a conversation, Blaine left it feeling like he had said something wrong regardless of whether he knew what or why.

Before starting his car, he pulled out his cell phone and looked at his notifications; 3 missed calls and eight new text messages, all of which Blaine knew were from Jason. He groaned pocketing his phone and pulling out onto the highway to drive back home. He wondered if Jason would be at work or have called in sick, if he would be mad about Blaine leaving the night before, but more than anything, Blaine wondered if he was going to get hit again. He wished more than anything that that wouldn’t have been the first thing his mind had drifted to, but he couldn’t help it; lately he’d been expecting getting hit more than not. He thought about what Kurt had said about how he hated himself, and though he felt terrible for it, it made him feel a little better. Blaine didn’t take any pleasure in knowing Kurt had been at such a low point in his life, but it made him feel like the man he was confiding in could relate somehow.

When Blaine pulled his car into his parking space, he shut off the ignition and unbuckled his seatbelt but didn’t get out of the car. His mind was reeling with all the ‘what if’s’ that could happen when he went inside his apartment.

What if he hits me again?

What if he does worse?

What if he’s not home?

Blaine groaned and threw his car door open, slamming it behind him and stalking up the stairs to his door. He gripped the handle and mustered his courage to turn it.

“Blaine?” Jason called, running towards the door when he heard it open. “Blaine?” He called again as Blaine shut it softly behind him. “It’s me,” he mumbled. They didn’t look at each other, just stood a few feet apart and relished in how awkward it felt. “Come here,” Jason said after a moment. He outstretched his hand and Blaine eyed it, deciding against taking it but following anyway. Jason guided him to the bedroom, Blaine’s expression stoic while Jason’s was expectant.

For whatever reason, Blaine was hoping there to be roses scattered on the bed sheets, candles lighting the room. It was the same room when he entered it, though, no grand romantic gesture within sight and Jason gestured to the bed.

Blaine sat on the edge of it stiffly but Jason remained standing before him. “You were at his place last night, weren’t you?” He asked his tone even. Blaine stared into his boyfriend’s eyes trying to read him, see if he was implying something but he couldn’t tell so he just nodded. “Because of what I did last night?” He nodded again.

“Listen Blaine, I know things haven’t been great between us lately, but you have to believe me when I tell you that I love,” Blaine’s heart thrummed in his chest a little faster and he felt uneasy. He licked his lips quickly before Jason continued. “And I love you enough to forgive you, okay? I can forgive you for cheating on me –“

“Really?!” Blaine shouted, standing up. “You still think I’m cheating on you?!” Jason gripped Blaine’s arms. “Shh, Blaine, listen to me, it’s gonna be okay, we can get you help, okay? We can get you relationship counselling and then you can see that I still love you and you can fix this.” Blaine didn’t know how to respond. His fault? This was his fault? “I’m not cheating on y—“

“Blaine stop it,” Jason interrupted calmly. “You can stop lying now, it’s all right. I forgive you all right? I’m not mad at you for what you did as long as you can understand that when I hit you, it was because of what you did. Because you were unfaithful to me.” Blaine was panting now, his mind reeling and he choked back a sob, Jason’s hand still gripping deathly tight to his arms. He couldn’t breathe and Jason was too close. He didn’t understand how Jason came up with this.

“It was for your own good, Blaine.”

“I’m not cheating on you!” He sobbed; his shoulder’s beginning to shake. Jason cupped his face in his palms but his touch was too rough, too unfamiliar to find comforting. “Blaine, it’s okay.” He insisted and Blaine wrestled his hands away from his face, pushing Jason away and running out of their bedroom. He felt trapped and claustrophobic; like the walls were getting closer and someone had turned up the heat to an unbearable degree.

Get help? Blaine needed help? He could hear Jason walking up behind him and he let out another sob, wiping tears off his face with the back of his hand. Blaine’s head was pounding and he couldn’t understand how this situation had gotten so out of control. He could have expected to be hit again but not to be faced with a confrontation like this. Was Jason really hitting him for his own good?

“Blaine, look at me,” Jason demanded, stepping in front of him and tilting his chin upwards. His lip was shaking and his eyes were squeezed shut, arms clasped around his trembling torso. When he didn’t comply, Jason brought the back of his back down against his cheek, snapping his head to the side. “Look at me,” he said again, firmer this time and Blaine opened his eyes. Blaine wanted to be back at Kurt’s apartment, drinking wine and watching movies, wished he hadn’t left. “If you promise me to stop seeing Kurt, then we can fix this, okay? We can go back to what we used to have, I swear. You’ll stop cheating on me and I won’t have to hit you anymore, all right?”

Blaine’s chest heaved but he nodded. “So when I tell you this next part, you have to keep that in mind when you answer,”

“Okay,” he whimpered, his head throbbing.

“Blaine, I love you so much. I really think we can get through this if we just start being more honest so,” Jason stepped away, taking Blaine’s injured, trembling hand in his too-firm grip and kneeling down.

“Will you marry me?”