Kurt Hummel was at the top of the pyramid.

Well, technically he was on the bottom with the other guys, Brittany’s feet on his shoulders; but figuratively speaking, he was the pinnacle. There were times (when he passed Mr Schue in the hallway, when he saw a Glee Clubber being slushied, when Finn was getting nervous about his Sectionals solo) that he felt bad for choosing the violent tirade of Sue Sylvester and her megaphone, but for most part he was just grateful he was throwing girls in the air rather than being thrown into lockers. The Cheerios had its benefits the way Glee had; he was just opening himself up to safety rather than joy (and dumpster tosses).

“Q, tighten the knees on your post-whale state body unless you want to do this inverted!” Sue’s magnified voice screeched across the field and every Cheerio held in a wince.

Kurt breathed deeply through his nose, keeping his arms steady and his legs strong. They could break now, or Coach Sylvester could make them hold it for another hour. The woman was unpredictable. He heard Granger mumble something next to him.

“What?” he whispered, trying to move his lips as little as possible – talking was not encouraged.

“I need to leave in the next five minutes or my girlfriend is going to break up with me for standing her up again.”

“You chose this. Don’t complain.”

Granger sighed and Kurt held his breath, waiting until he was sure Granger hadn’t dropped his shoulders and wobbled the structure. “Yes, Captain.”

Kurt looked up at the Coach, praying exactly the same as Granger that they’d get out of this quickly, not that he’d ever admit it.

“At ease,” Coach Sylvester yelled. Kurt grinned as he felt those on the edges break away to catch Quinn as she tumbled backwards. He saw girls leaping to the ground in various displays of athleticism. He launched Britt off his shoulders and turned to Granger.

“Go on,” he said with a smile, “go save your relationship.”

Granger laughed and jogged off with a brief yell of thanks. Kurt packed away his things and joined with the girls for the walk to the parking lot. Glee Club had apparently just let out as all of the members were currently heading in the same direction. Kurt waved to them and they smiled wanly back. There was a new boy to the back of the group, walking with Santana (who had done, in Kurt’s opinion, the brave thing and stayed with Glee). Kurt hadn’t seen him around school and the year had just begun, so he must be a transfer. He didn’t have a chance to look further into it, though: Finn was beckoning him to the car. He bade his team goodbye and joined his stepbrother.

**

Kurt didn’t see the new boy again for a few days. He was switching his books at his locker when the jocks passed him. He heard the unmistakeable sound of a slushie hitting someone’s face and turned to see who it was.

The boy from Glee Club was dripping purple and gaping, looking more shocked than anything. After a few seconds, he seemed to come back to himself and Kurt recognised the humiliation flashing in his eyes.

When Kurt’s friends were slushied, he always had a go at the jocks and they’d lay off for a while. With strangers, Kurt would still give them a glare, but there was nothing he could really do without receiving the same treatment, no matter what uniform he wore. So he didn’t plan to grab the boy’s hand and drag him to the bathroom, but he found himself doing it.

The boy was watching him in confusion as he pulled a towel he had for after practise out of his bag. He wetted it under the hot tap and turned to the boy.

“Close your eyes and tilt your head up,” he said gently. The boy stared at him for a second, but he complied. “Never been slushied before, right?” Kurt pulled the thick-rimmed glasses off the boy’s face and pressed the towel against his eyes, wiping up the purple mush.

“No. Does… does that happen a lot?”

Kurt sighed. “Depends who your friends are.”

Blaine hummed, understanding what Kurt was saying. “And you. Do you always help people?”

“N-no.” He brushed the towel over the boy’s cheek. “You can open your eyes now, if you like.”

The boy did and he stared straight at Kurt. His eyes were hazel and so warm that Kurt had to look away quickly. “I’m Blaine. I just transferred.”

“Kurt.”

“And you’re a…” Blaine looked down at Kurt’s uniform. “A cheerleader.”

“Are you laughing at me?”

“What? No, of course not. It must be really hard. You’ve got to be very… flexible.” Blaine grinned winningly at him as Kurt cleaned the last of the slushie from under his chin.

Kurt blushed. “You’re going to have to change your shirt.” He looked at the towel, stained purple, and threw it away with a sigh. “Do you have a spare one?”

“I didn’t realise I’d need one.”

Kurt smiled at him. “Well, I’d lend you one, but I stopped needing spare clothes a long time ago.”

“When you started wearing this?” Blaine asked, plucking at Kurt’s uniform.

“Something like that.”

Blaine tilted his head, eyes tracing the ‘WMHS’ emblazoned across Kurt’s chest. “Do you think it would suit me?”

Kurt laughed. “Stick to bowties, nerd boy.”

“Was that an insult?”

“No.” Kurt looked at Blaine’s hair and huffed before pulling a comb from his bag. “This life’s just not for everyone. You’d have to choose between this and Glee Club and as someone who’s made that choice, I can tell you it doesn’t come without regret.”

Blaine blinked up at him as Kurt started to comb his hair, working out knots and a few remaining flecks of purple. “Why are you doing this for me?”

Kurt’s hands paused and he looked at the floor. “Can you ask me that some other time? I’m not really sure right now.”

“You’re saying this is going to happen again?”

The corners of Kurt’s mouth twitched. “The slushie, almost definitely. Me cleaning you up? Not so certain.” He started combing again, brushing curls behind Blaine’s ears.

“Depends who’s around at the time?”

Kurt didn’t reply, but kept working the comb through Blaine’s hair. He was registering the strange lack of line he had with this boy. There didn’t seem to be a point at which he told Kurt to stop because it was too close and too… too gay. There was always a stopping point, but he didn’t seem to have reached it yet.

He gave Blaine’s hair a few run-throughs with his fingers, trying to give it some kind of style. “God, do you always wear this much gel?” he muttered.

Blaine blushed. “Curly hair hazard.”

“Size of a pea, Blaine. Not a drop more.”

“Kurt…” Blaine reached up and took Kurt’s hand, pulling it down to their sides. He kept his fingers wrapped around Kurt’s wrist. He pressed his lips together.

Kurt stepped away and started cleaning Blaine’s glasses in the sink. “Don’t ask me difficult questions right now. Please.” He dried the glasses off and handed them to Blaine, who slipped them back on. Kurt leaned against the sink, eyes drawn to the purple still staining across Blaine’s shirt. “Look, I can’t tell you what is going to happen out there,” he said, gesturing to the door of the bathroom and stepping a little closer. “But in here? When they do things like that to you? When you need someone? I’m here for you. I can’t promise you I’ll be able to—”

“It’s our secret. I get it.”

Kurt huffed and looked at their feet. “It’s not meant as an insult, Blaine. It’s just… the Cheerios, my popularity – it keeps me safe.”

Blaine straightened up. Suddenly, Kurt was being pulled into his arms and held close, startled. “You do what you need to do,” Blaine said into his ear. “And I’ll do what I can for myself. We all have to survive, don’t we?”

Kurt rested his head on Blaine’s shoulders and snaked his arms around his back. “I’ll be brave one day, I promise.”

Blaine’s hands slipped a little lower on Kurt’s back and Kurt couldn’t help but wonder where the line was, where this had to end. “Don’t promise that to me, Kurt. Promise it to yourself.”