Now we can watch it fall

'Cause they built it up too tall

Now I'm sinking lower than

All my tears

Sinking lower than

All your fears

            Kurt’s at his locker when he walks into the school.  Blaine Anderson, the resident gay kid at McKinley.  Kurt watches as he struts in proudly, smiling and whistling to himself, completely unaware of the weird looks his hot red pants are getting.

            Kurt has always been a little envious.  He’s never talked to Blaine before, but he watches from afar.  Blaine is just so carefree about it all.  He must get beaten up at least once a week, but he doesn’t let it phase it.  Or at least, he doesn’t show it if it does.

            Kurt knows better, though.  He’s learned the hard way that it’s just easier to hide who he truly is.  Blaine only transferred to McKinley this year and hasn’t learned the rules yet.

            Kurt cringes when he sees three football players heading down the hallway towards Blaine.  Here we go.

            The football players stop Blaine and circle around him.

            “Hey Curly,” Azimio spits out, smirking.  “How’s it goin’?”

            “It’s going well, fellas, thanks for asking,” Blaine answers.  Kurt, having never actually witnessed an interaction between the football team and the resident gay pride one man parade, is astounded at Blaine’s chipper attitude when being circled by lions.

            “We don’t actually care,” another one says.  Jensen, Kurt thinks is his name.

            “Ah,” Blaine says, frowning though his eyes twinkle.  “And here I thought we were having a friendly chat.”

            “We aren’t friendly with fairies, Curly.  But we do have a present for you, since you love being so…how shall we say…colorful,” Azimio sneers, and as if that was some previously determined signal, they all whip out slushies from behind their backs and dump them on Blaine’s head.

            Kurt flinches and groans in sympathy, well acquainted with the horrible chill of a slushy (and he’s been spared for a while now, and never has there been more than one).  He watches the football players walk away, high fiving each other and other observers.

            Kurt turns back to Blaine and sees the boy smiling softly to himself as he pulls a towel out of his bag—which fortunately had been missed by the slushies—wetting it in a water fountain, then wiping it across his face and hair.  He then goes over to his own locker (how has Kurt never noticed that their lockers are in the same hallway?) and checks his hair in a mirror, pulling out a small bottle of hair gel to fix it up a bit.

            Kurt watches this whole process in awe.  Blaine doesn’t even try to clean up the sticky mess of slushy on his once crisp white button down.

            After seemingly determining that he looks alright, Blaine closes his locker and turns to continue down the hallway to class.  He catches Kurt gaping when he’s about to pass by him, and the countertenor quickly looks away, not wanting to get caught looking at Blaine.  He misses the curious smile Blaine gives him in response.

            The next day, it happens all over again.  Blaine makes his way towards his locker, is stopped by some football players (there are four this time), they exchange some banter—witty on Blaine’s part, stupid on the Neanderthals’ part—and they all slushy him at once.

            Kurt tries not to rush to his side, even though he wants nothing more than to help this poor boy who is, unfortunately, a lot like him.  But Kurt would never admit that.

            Blaine, once again, doesn’t seem to mind it, and goes through his tidying up routine at his locker.  Kurt watches the process again, and decides to take a little pity on him; there aren’t that many people left in the hallway to see, anyway.

            Kurt steels himself, then takes a deep breath and pulls a shirt out of his locker.  He always has an extra, just in case the bullies get bored.  It’s a silly precaution seeing as he hasn’t been slushied in over a year, but he never knows what might happen.

            “Here,” he says, making his way over to Blaine who’s wiping the goo from his ears.

            Blaine turns in surprise to face him, glances down at the shirt, and then breaks out in a huge grin.

            “Thanks, but I won’t be needing that,” he says, gently pushing the shirt and Kurt’s hands away.

            “But, you’re covered,” Kurt says, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Doesn’t that get kind of seriously uncomfortable?”

            Blaine shrugs, still shining his megawatt smile at Kurt.

            “Yeah, but I’ve gotten used to it,” he replies.  “It’s worth it to show them just how much I don’t care.”

            The second bell rings, indicating that class has started.

            “Crap, I have to go.  See you around, Kurt,” Blaine says, grinning one last time before rushing down the hall, leaving a tiny trail of slushy behind him.

            Kurt spends his free period reading the same line of his book over and over, drowning in a sea of thoughts, all about Blaine.  It isn’t until then that he realizes he has no idea how Blaine knows his name.

            Three days pass without another slushy incident.  Blaine smiles and waves at him now whenever they see each other, and Kurt usually gives a tentative smile back, but only if he’s sure it won’t draw attention. 

Kurt knows it hasn’t ended.  This is just the eye of the hurricane.  But he still goes home that weekend happy that Blaine wasn’t attacked almost all week. And maybe there’s an inkling of hope in the back of his mind that they really have given up on Blaine, just like they gave up on him.

Kurt spends both Saturday and Sunday gaining more and more confidence. He convinces himself that, since it’s been days since Blaine was last slushied, maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible to talk to the boy.  Kurt would still be careful about it, but he just has to talk to Blaine.  He intrigues Kurt, and it feels as if there’s some magnetic pull forcing them closer.  Kurt ignores the fact that this pull is very obviously something he has spent years hiding from everyone.

On Monday, Kurt sees Blaine walk into school, wearing black skinny jeans, a tight blue plaid shirt, and black suspenders.

Kurt tries not to think about how good the outfit looks on him, instead working up the nerve to step in next to Blaine and walk with the curly-haired cutie (cutie?  Where the hell did that come from?).  Just as he’s shaking off his nerves and gearing up to do it, he spots them.  Five football players, Azimio and Jensen leading the pack.  All of them are holding a slushy—in each hand.

There are no taunts this time.  No insults thrown in Blaine’s face.  It’s as if it all happens in slow motion.  Blaine barely has time to react before ten slushies are hurled on his body, covering every inch of him.

The shock and sheer force of it all brings him to the floor, shivering and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Not so cheery now, are you Curly?” Azimio sneers, the rest of the guys laughing malevolently.

Blaine doesn’t respond, just sits there shivering in a puddle of slush.  The tormentors back away.

“Let’s home this time the lesson…shall we say, sticks, alright, Curly?”  With one last glare, they turn the corner and leave.

Kurt is snapped out of his shocked reverie when the bell rings, and the hall clears out, students pointing and snickering behind their hands as they walk by Blaine.

Blaine, who has yet to open his eyes.  Blaine, who’s lips are turning blue from the cold of the slushies.  Blaine, the poor, gay boy who Kurt knows he has to help.

Closing his locker and forgetting about class, Kurt rushed to Blaine’s side.

“Blaine,” he says, kneeling down beside the shaking mess of a boy. “Blaine?”

Kurt reaches under Blaine’s chin to lift his face, only to find that he has finally opened his eyes.  His shaking isn’t only from the cold—Blaine is crying softly and avoiding Kurt’s searching gaze.  Kurt feels his heart lurch at the sight.

“C’mon,” Kurt says gently, tugging on Blaine’s arm to pull him up.  The now sobbing boy doesn’t protest as Kurt pulls him to his feet and slides their hands together, leading Blaine into the closest bathroom.           

He doesn’t say anything as he leans Blaine against the wall, still holding his hand.  He reaches over to pull some paper towels out of the dispenser, then runs them under the nearest faucet.

He wipes the wet cloth across Blaine’s face, getting as much of it out of his eyes as he can.  He tries to hold back his own tears when he uncovers the redness that the slushy had been hiding.  Guess it was only a matter of time before they broke him he thinks sadly to himself, wetting a new towel and running it through Blaine’s hair, clearing out the slushy that is dripping into his ears.

After about fifteen minutes of meticulously wetting paper towels and gently washing the slushy off of Blaine, Kurt looks back into the boy’s eyes.

He doesn’t know what he expected to find, but the lost, scared, hopeless eyes he sees break his heart.  He distracts himself by continuing his clean up.

When he tugs at the bottom of Blaine’s shirt, the boy whimpers in protest, but Kurt just shushes him softly and helps him out of the soaked fabric.  Kurt’s breath hitches at the sight of Blaine’s chest, but now is not the time to ogle the boy.  In fact, it is never the time for him to ogle to boy; that’s not what he’s here for.

He cleans off Blaine’s chest, making sure the water from the faucet is warm this time, then points down to Blaine’s pants, letting him take those off himself.  Kurt respectfully looks away, but knows he’ll have to return his gaze to the nearly naked boy if he wants to keep helping him.

He sucks it up and turns back around, trying not to moan at the sight of Blaine in only his boxer-briefs.  His head is down, as if he’s ashamed that this is what it all has come to.  Kurt lifts his head up with two fingers under his chin and gives him a smile.

“I know it seems ridiculous to say this, at all, but it’s going to be okay,” he tells him, even though he’s not sure he believes it himself.  Something seems to resonate in Blaine though, being that these are the first words either of them has spoken in the bathroom, and reaches over to wet some paper towels himself to wipe off his legs.

Thankfully, his underwear managed to be almost completely missed, and Blaine could still wear them comfortably.  Kurt pulls out a shirt and spare pants from his bag.  They’ll be a little long on Blaine, but he’s pretty sure their waist sizes are similar enough that they’ll fit the smaller boy comfortably.

Blaine wipes himself down with some dry paper towels and quickly gets dressed in Kurt’s clothes.  He’s stopped crying by now, and once he’s dressed, they stand there in comfortable silence, Kurt observing Blaine and Blaine shyly avoiding his gaze.  What a change in perspective.

“Well…it’s almost time for our next class,” Kurt says, breaking through whatever had been going on for the past five minutes.  “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” Blaine says, his voice somewhat wobbly, but mostly confident. “It’s a...minor setback, but I’ll ah, get back up on my feet eventually.  It helps to know I’ve got a friend.”  He gives Kurt that megawatt smile again, the one that makes his knees shake a little.

“Right,” Kurt says.  He isn’t sure if he’d classify them as friends just yet, but it’s definitely a step in the right direction.  He doesn’t think he’d mind being Blaine’s friend so much.  “Yeah.”

The bell rings and they both giggle a bit, moving to exit the bathroom. Blaine stops him with a hand on his arm before they part ways.

“Thank you, Kurt,” he says sincerely, and Kurt’s heart lurches forward.  All he wants is to kiss Blaine in that moment, but seeing as he’s done a ridiculously good job hiding who he is, he can’t.  it would blow the cover he so carefully crafted. He ops for a tight hand squeeze and a smile instead.

“Anytime.  Seriously,” Kurt says.  Blaine beams at him, and holds the bathroom door open to let Kurt pass.  They glance shyly at each other before heading in opposite directions.

Who knows, Kurt thinks.  Maybe we could be friends after all.