Kurt Hummel had always been different.

Blaine Anderson had always been the perfect son.

Burt and Elizabeth Hummel had always known, and shared secret smiles over Kurt's head, because 'Blaine Anderson' was such a pretty name, even prettier for the flowing cursive, twining around his pale wrist.

Jonathan and Marie Anderson were always either too drunk or too busy to notice, let alone care, or even simply explain why there was a 'Kurt Hummel' circling his wrist like jewellery.

When Kurt found out, he was seven, and it had only been weeks since his mother's passing, and he was scared and confused and aching, always aching, but it meant that there was somebody out there for him, so he clung on tight to his father and waited for the storm to pass.

When Blaine found out, it was because that mean kid at school grabbed his arm and saw it. He went home and Googled it. He cried himself to sleep.

The storm raged on. He was pushed and shoved and slushied and dumpster-tossed, and there were days when he tried to scrub it off, scrubbing until his wrist was raw and red, but still he clung on.

His parents refused to acknowledge its existence, his existence. Razor blades appeared in his bathroom cabinet and angry, red lines across the dainty script. But every time they healed, it seemed as if the words were simply etched deeper into his flesh.

The storm swelled to its climax with forced kisses and death threats. Kurt cried himself to sleep, dreaming of a faceless name holding him close.

Blaine was stupid. Blaine asked a boy (whose name was Simon, not Kurt) to dance with him. Lying on the sidewalk, his blood pooling around him, all Blaine could think of was the way in which his broken wrist had twisted and mangled the words. He hoped it would heal.

The storm calmed to a summer drizzle when Kurt saw a beautiful boy on the stairs who introduced himself as Blaine.

Something tugged at Blaine's heartstrings when he saw a beautiful boy on the stairs who introduced himself as Kurt.

The sun came out and nearly blinded him. Kurt watched him. Kurt fell in love.

Blaine watched Kurt watching him. Blaine tried not to fall in love. Because the words on his wrist still didn't flow as smoothly as they used to, and he wasn't sure they ever would.

Kurt sang a song about broken wings and learning to fly.

Blaine kissed him.