And this won't get any easier

Now that your heart is beating in my hand

And I'll try not to destroy you, baby

Even though we both know I can

            Kurt sits on the edge of the stage in the darkened theatre, dangling his legs and trying to stop crying.  His efforts are futile, of course, considering tears have been slowly streaking his face for about an hour.  He had managed to hold them in long enough to get back to the dressing room, change back into his street clothes, and wait for the auditorium to clear out before he broke down.  Luckily, not many people went searching for him, and those who did were easily dismissed.

            At this point, his breathing has evened out, and he’s just quietly sobbing, hiccupping occasionally and sniffling as he calms down.  He wipes at his eyes, the few final tears coming away on his knuckles, and he swallows down the last of the lump in his throat.

            He hears a loud thud off to his side, and his gaze snaps from the empty auditorium seats to the stage wings.

            “Kurt?”  Blaine is standing in the wings, a large, bulky bag at his feet, Kurt pushes himself back and up, walking quickly over to his boyfriend as the tears start up again.

            “Oh, baby,” Blaine coos as he wraps Kurt up in his arms, the taller boy leaning against him and crying into his neck.  “Please stop crying, Kurt, please.  I’m here now, it’s all going to be alright,” Blaine begs, rubbing his hands up and down Kurt’s back soothingly.

            “H-how can you s-say that?” Kurt chokes out.  “They w-were horrible to me.  This has b-been the worst day of m-my life!”

            “Shhh,” Blaine whispers, the distress clear on his face and in his voice. “Please Kurt, please believe me when I say it’s going to be fine, I promise.  I would never lie to you, ever, Kurt.  Why don’t you go wash up in the bathroom?  I’ll be here when you’re done.  Take all the time you need.”  Blaine pulls back a little, still holding Kurt in his arms, to give him a tender kiss on his forehead.

            Kurt nods and sniffles, wiping at his face before moving out of the warm comfort of Blaine’s arms to head to the bathroom.

            Kurt hurries through the empty hallways to the closest bathroom, pushing his way in and heading straight for the towel dispenser.  He pulls a few paper towels out and blows his nose loudly, using a few more to wipe away the rest of the tears staining his cheeks.  He throws them all away and moves over to the sink, gripping the sides.  He looks up into the mirror, and sighs as his red-rimmed eyes stare back at him.

            Memories blur his vision until he can no longer see his reflection.  It’s like a T.V. screen—he sees a montage, the images changing in quick succession, and yet each one seemingly slowed down.  He sees the cast on stage, his character’s first entrance, Blaine giving him a hug and telling him what a great job he’s doing so far during intermission, Blaine not letting go of his hand until the curtain went back up. He sees the start of Act Two, the climax of the play, hears the thunderous applause as the curtain calls begin, sees himself running out and taking a bow, all smiles when he spots his dad and Carole and Finn in the front row, all giving him a standing ovation. 

He can feel his smile fading when the football team, all lined up in the back row, holds up crudely made posters boasting harsh words, staggering insults about his sexuality, his appearance, their yells and jeers to get the “ugly lady” off the stage, out of the school, the shower of water balloons filled with slushies that comes pouring down on him, mostly missing him, some just bouncing but many of them bursting open at his feet, the freezing liquid splashing up his legs.  He can see himself fleeing, escaping to the dressing room where he feels numb as he cleans himself up and changes, avoiding the concerned knocks from his cast mates, pushing past them and making his escape.

            He opens his eyes to find his reflection back in his vision.  His eyes are dry, and the tears have left a deadened look in their place.  Kurt doesn’t even realize he’s turned the sink on until his hands are splashing cold water on his face, and he’s sputtering and reaching for more paper towels to pat himself dry.  He gives himself one last look in the mirror, not caring that his skin is going to be barely manageable later on, and makes his way back through the halls to where his boyfriend waits for him in the auditorium.

            When he steps through the wings and back onto the stage, he gasps at the sight he’s greeted with.  Blaine is standing in the middle of the stage, the bag he had brought with him now empty, a large air mattress blown up next to him with soft blue sheets and a plushy white comforter resting on top of it, pillows outlining the whole thing.  The only light on in the entire auditorium is a single spotlight, bright and powerful, hitting directly onto the bed Blaine has set up.

            “Blaine?” Kurt says, then winces as the sounds rings out slightly in the silent room.  He clears his throat and takes a cautious step closer, Blaine immediately walking straight to him and lacing both their hands together.  “What…is all this?”

            Blaine gives him those sad, hopeful eyes before leaning in for a kiss.  It breaks Kurt’s heart to see those eyes fall to the floor when he pulls away before Blaine’s lips can touch his.

            “I—I’m sorry, I just…don’t feel much like kissing, right now,” he mutters, trying to wriggle his fingers free from Blaine’s grasp.  Blaine just holds on tighter, looking back up into Kurt’s once again shining eyes.

            “Okay,” Blaine says resolutely.  “That’s fine.  But can you please tell me why?  We agreed to always be honest with each other and…I just want you to be honest with me about this.  Why don’t you want to kiss me?”

            “I just don’t want to kiss you right now, Blaine, it’s…it’s not that big a deal.”  Kurt tries to duck his head but Blaine brings one of his hands, still intertwined with Kurt’s, to hold his chin in place, forcing their gaze to hold.

            “Kurt.  Honest.  Please.”  Kurt looks down and sighs heavily.

            “It’s not that I don’t…want to kiss you, I always want to kiss you, I just…I’m not feeling very…um, attractive, I guess,” Kurt whispers into the air between them, his words feeling heavy and trailing off at the end.  He feels Blaine’s fingers slip from his chin and looks up, only to wish he hadn’t.  Blaine’s eyes look pained, and Kurt imagines that no good can come from a look like that.

            “C’mere,” Blaine says, letting one of his hands drop from Kurt’s and tugging Kurt towards the strange bed set up with the other.  “Sit,” he instructs, and Kurt’s too confused to argue, sitting down on the air mattress and looking up at Blaine, shielding his eyes from the near blinding spotlight, as his boyfriend paces a bit in front of him.

            “Blaine?  Not to…interrupt, or anything, but, um…are we even allowed to be here right now?”  Blaine’s head snaps up at Kurt’s words, and he joins him on the bed, sitting next to him and taking hold of his hands again.

            “Yes.  I got special permission from Mr. Shuester to let us stay in here for a little while.  Granted, he doesn’t know what we’re doing in here, but I think he knows I’m going to try and make you feel better, so he said yes.”

            Kurt ponders this for a minute, wondering what exactly Mr. Shuester didthink they’d be doing with an air mattress on the school stage, and why exactly he had the authority to give them permission to be here, but he tries not to think too hard about it.

            “So…what exactly are we doing here?” Kurt asks.  Blaine gives him one last searching look, then suddenly Kurt is on his back on the little bed, Blaine hovering above him.

            “Wha—Blaine!?” Kurt looks up at him frantically, suddenly hyper aware of the spotlight currently being shined directly on him.  He tries to shift away from the light, but Blaine catches him, holding him in place, leaning down to rest fully over him, effectively trapping Kurt to the bed.

            “Blaine, please, whatever this is…I’m not in the mood.  I don’t—I can’t—this really isn’t—“

            “Shhhh,” Blaine cuts him off.  “Please, just…give me a chance, here.  Let me…let me make you feel attractive.”  Blaine whispers all of this into Kurt’s ear, following his words with his tongue, running it along the shell and down Kurt’s neck, sucking lightly on his Adam’s apple before looking up at Kurt’s groan.

            “Blaine,” Kurt whines, his eyes confused, though his hands cling to Blaine’s back in need.

            “Let me show you how beautiful you are, Kurt,” Blaine says, slowly moving his hands to Kurt’s hips to rub his thumbs gently in soft circles along Kurt’s hipbones.  “Let me show you just how wrong every one of those jerks is about you,” he whispers into Kurt’s navel after lifting his shirt up past his bellybutton, tracing light patterns with his tongue, the light illuminating his exposed stomach.  “Let me show you just how desirable you are…just how amazing, and wonderful, and unbelievably sexy your body is.”  Blaine has lifted Kurt’s shirt up past his nipples, his tongue and fingers lazily outlining the hard nubs before lighting pinching and sucking on them.  Kurt is frozen under Blaine’s ministrations, his eyes wide and his breathing heavy.

            Blaine pulls Kurt’s shirt up over his head, and Kurt immediately covers himself with his arms.  Blaine tuts and grabs Kurt’s wrists, pinning them to either side of his head.

            “You’re not allowed to hide from me, Kurt,” Blaine whispers against his lips, his voice shaky and desperate and a little bit threatening, all at once.  He kisses him once, softly, before pushing himself back up, still holding Kurt’s arms down, and staring at the expanse of skin now exposed.  Kurt squirms uncomfortably, looking everywhere but at Blaine.

            “If I let go, will you leave your hands where they are?”  Kurt finally looks up at Blaine, nodding slowly after a moment.  Blaine cautiously removes his tight grip from Kurt’s wrists, smiling down at him when Kurt immediately moves them to Blaine’s waist instead of covering himself back up.

            “That’s it, baby, let me see you,” Blaine says, brushing his lips across Kurt’s jaw, moving them down his throat and lightly teasing them against his nipples.  Kurt arches into the touch, his fingers tightening around Blaine’s waist. Blaine continues to kiss down Kurt’s chest until he runs out of skin.  Kurt has moved his hands to Blaine’s hair and Blaine moves his hands to Kurt’s pants, unbuttoning them and unzipping them before quickly pulling them down.

            Kurt resists the urge to draw his legs up and hide.  He’s trying so hard, trying so hard to see what Blaine sees.  The light emphasizes his pale skin, and all he can think is that he looks washed out and yellowish.

            “Blaine…I don’t feel very sexy,” he mumbles, turning his head to the side and avoiding the searching gaze from the boy tucked in between his legs.

            “Let me help you with that,” Blaine finally says after moments of not saying anything and simply watching Kurt.  He reaches up and pulls Kurt’s boxers down too, taking Kurt’s right leg in his hands and lifting it up, the light casting contrasting shadows across his face.  He stretches his neck and starts to kiss at the back of Kurt’s calf, causing the stretched out boy to swallow a giggle at the slight tickle.  Blaine just keeps up his kisses, reaching the back of Kurt’s knee and teasing up his thigh, nibbling slightly in places to redden the skin.  He stops right before Kurt’s half hard cock, and moves to the other leg.

            “Your legs are so strong, Kurt…so masculine and defined.  I could kiss them for hours and never be bored.”  Blaine catches a bit of skin where Kurt’s thigh begins and flicks his tongue against it, sucking and biting slightly, a dark bruise starting to form.  He moves up Kurt’s left thigh the same way he did the right, but he doesn’t stop this time.

            Kurt half-groans, half-chokes when Blaine sucks one of his balls into his mouth, his cock hardening rapidly.  He can feel Blaine nosing at his skin down there, inhaling his scent.

            “You smell amazing.  You taste amazing.  Do you remember the first time I ever went down on you?  I couldn’t stop staring because I couldn’t believe how perfect your cock was--is.  It’s so thick and perfectly heavy on my tongue, Kurt, and you’re so hot when you’re moaning above me and trying not to thrust too hard, but if I’m being honest…I love it when you get a little rough baby.  It’s like you’re possessing me, marking me, making sure I know that I’m yours and no one else’s.”

            Kurt’s sweating and panting heavily now, having given in and looked down to watch Blaine a while ago.  Blaine doesn’t break eye contact when he finally sucks the tip of Kurt’s dick in his mouth, tonguing over the head and lapping at the slit. Kurt cries out at the sensation, his hips thrusting up of their own accord.  He almost loses it right then when Blaine moans at the feeling, so Kurt thrusts up again, a little more intentionally.

            Blaine grabs Kurt’s hips, pulling encouragingly, and Kurt sets a steady rhythm, fucking into Blaine’s mouth and grunting; he’s at a complete loss for words at just how incredible it feels.

            Soon he’s sliding down Blaine’s throat on every other thrust, and he almost blacks out when Blaine begins swallowing around him.  He can feel Blaine’s fingers digging into his hips, but he doesn’t care—he wants those bruises to be dark, he wants Blaine’s hands to be the only ones that fit them.  God, he wants to be Blaine’s just as much as Blaine is proving himself to be Kurt’s.

            When Kurt dares to look down at the sight below him, he knows he won’t be able to last much longer.  Blaine is still looking at him; he never stopped looking at him, and he’s fisting his own cock, unbelievably hard and fast, just at the image of Kurt falling apart.

            And suddenly, Kurt gets it a little.  Seeing how beautiful Blaine looks like this: sweaty and debauched and overwhelmed with sensation, Kurt starts to understand.  It doesn’t matter what other people think or say.  Blaine is his, and he’s Blaine’s, and it only matters what Blaine thinks of him.  Blaine thinks he’s sexy, and Kurt is starting to believe it too.

            Blaine’s suction gets stronger, and he’s swallowing around Kurt’s dick constantly, and as Kurt begins to come hard, he sees Blaine come as well, getting off on him getting off, their sweat and come glistening in the intense light of the spotlight.

            He watches Blaine clean up, admiring the way his body looks in the shadows.  Blaine walks over to him, still sprawled out on the bed, when he’s done, and spreads a blanket over Kurt’s body before laying down and cuddling up to his side.  Kurt looks down at his sweaty, boneless body, harshly highlighted under the spotlight, and starts to forget all about the jocks.  If Blaine thinks he’s beautiful, then so does he.