***WARNING: Contains violence, harsh language and non-consensual sexually explicit scenes. ***

What Have I Done?

"Do you remember when you first started dating Santana and I started dating Kurt? Back before everyone was so busy and so… far away?" I sighed. "Things were so much simpler. We had so much more hope… and innocence. Every day was just like Valentine's day."

"Well, we're still young. Shouldn't we still be experiencing those things?"

Brittany hadn't intentionally stirred up the emotion that had been bubbling in my chest with her words.

It just sort of… happened.

Brittany was… well… Brittany. There's really not another word that would do her justice. She's definitely one of a kind. But today, she was dead on. We should be experiencing the joys of young love. Not sitting here in a smelly cafeteria sounded by students talking with their mouths full and gossiping about who got laid over the weekend.

It was all so… juvenile.

I can't help but feel like I just don't belong here. As I told Sam the other day, I came to McKinley for Kurt.

To be with him, to protect him, to love him.

Now that he's gone off to New York… I can't help but feel like a huge part of me is gone too.

Every time I think about him my chest hurts.

I miss him so much.

I was nothing before I ran into that beautiful boy on the staircase at Dalton on that sunny afternoon.

I had nothing.

Even though it took me a while to realize how important Kurt really was to me, he was undoubtedly worth the wait.

His smile was enough to melt the glaciers that I'd built up inside my soul.

And his voice… oh god. I will never forget that day in the choir room at Dalton.

Kurt singing 'Blackbird' was like… a whole new awakening for me. It was like the light just turned on inside my head and my heart was just…complete for the first time. That emptiness that had been there for so long… was gone.

It's no secret that I didn't really have the best upbringing. Even though I don't talk about it much, I think a lot of people have put the pieces together.

My mom and dad weren't… thrilled… when I came out. I'm sure some people have it worse than me by far, but it still hurts when every time I look at them, all I see in return is disappointment.

Hmmmph… I still remember the day that my dad had enjoyed one too many glasses of scotch with his old college friends and I overheard him tell them that he was 'disappointed that I was throwing my life away,' and that 'if I were straight, I would have endless opportunities at his law firm to become a world class lawyer.'

I didn't have the heart (or the guts) to confront him that day and tell him that it was never my dream to be a lawyer.

My mom is… weak. She follows dad around like a little lost puppy and does everything he says, exactly how he says to do it.

I'm pretty sure Brittany would call her a robot.

It's like she doesn't have her own opinions. Or she doesn't want to. I guess as long as the paychecks keep coming in and she can support her wine habit, she'll be satisfied.

I love my parents.

I do, it's just really hard to sometimes. They definitely don't make it easy.

Mostly, I hate the awkward stares and glares from them any time I mention Kurt. They know we're together. And that we've been… together. But it's kind of like… if they ignore it, it will go away.

Kurt's been over to my house lots of times. I think in the beginning, they just assumed he was a friend from school. But after the one time my dad caught us on the couch getting a little… ummm… close… they pretty much filled in the blanks.

Kurt and I never made out on my couch again.

Most parents make you keep the door open if your 'significant other' is over. My parents – basically barricade mine shut.

Don't ask. Don't tell.

And don't even get me started on my big brother.

Cooper is great. But he's a little… much at times.

I know he means well, but he's so self-absorbed, you can never get a word in edgewise.

I've been compared to him my whole life. He's quite a few years older than me, so we've never really been that close. He still bugs me that I was an 'oops' and that mom and dad never planned on my arrival.

I'm sure dad thinks I was an 'oops' too.

I'm sure he wishes I'd never been born. He's never come right out and said it, but he doesn't have to.

The glares are enough.

But anyways… back to Kurt.

My dear, sweet, beautiful, amazing, Kurt.

My life changed that day on the staircase.

I didn't know it at the time, but I'd just met the love of my life.

Of course, like any couple, we've experienced a few bumps in the road.

Errant slushies. Alcohol intolerance. A brief stint of sexual confusion (I still plea temporary insanity for that one). Innocent texting that appeared not so innocent. (I still hate that guy. Seriously… who the fuck names their kid Chandler?)

And of course… New York.

I tried to be brave when Kurt got his letter from NYADA naming him a finalist. We both knew exactly what it had meant, but he was so excited. I couldn't take that away from him.

And then when he found out that he didn't get in… he was shattered. Although my insides were doing a brief jump for joy, I knew how much that broke him down. He'd had such a horrible high school experience, I couldn't not want him to get the hell out of Lima as fast as his sexy little legs could carry him, but still… without Kurt… where did that leave me?

Right here in McKinley High, walking down the hallway, trying to avoid the jocks and the Cheerios. We weren't really on the best of terms ever since they'd slushied Marley and Unique the other week.

I curse the three assholes that put me in the hospital during my freshman year of high school. Had they not attacked my friend and I after the Sadie Hawkins dance that night, I wouldn't have missed a year of school recuperating in the hospital and doing physiotherapy. I would be in New York right now with my boyfriend at my side.

Speak of the devil…

"Hey Stranger." I smile into my phone. I know it's stupid to smile on the phone; it's not like he can see me smile, but I'm hoping he can hear it.

I don't think he heard it.

In fact, I'm pretty sure he just put me on hold.

"Isabelle Wright's office, how can I help you?" His voice sounded stressed. Overwhelmed even.

"Ummm, it's me, Kurt." I answer with a frustrated eye roll. Maybe it's a good thing he can't see me.

Kurt apologizes and starts making excuses again, while rambling about… I'm not even sure what. All I heard was 'this could be a career for me.'

Ouch.

That stung.

Our phone dates are getting less and less frequent.

The plan was to talk every morning during his coffee break at 10:15 as I was walking to my next class. It started out great. I loved getting that expected phone call, but lately… it hasn't exactly been working out in my favor.

I don't want to sound needy. I don't. But… I just… really miss him.

I knew that it was going to be difficult to maintain a long distance relationship. But difficult doesn't even begin to describe it.

This just frickin' sucks.

"I get that. I-I do. I really get it, it's just… I… really miss you. A lot. Okay?" I manage. I can hear my voice beginning to crack with each word and I silent curse my vocal cords for failing me at the most inopportune moment. "I miss talking to you. And I miss hugging you. And, I miss messing around with you"

Kurt interrupting my words veiled the burning desire that snuck into my voice with the last husky whisper. He also missed me gently sliding my tongue over my lips in anticipation of his response.

"But you're coming in two weeks right?"

Ouch again.

So he's completely okay with not seeing me or talking to me for two whole weeks?

Apparently things are worse than I thought.

My stomach jolted at that moment and I could feel tears threatening to gather at the corners of my eyes.

"I know, but…." I have to pause and gather the strength to continue without losing my composure. "What am I suppose to do until then? Just hold my breath?" I hoped he couldn't hear how close to tears I was at this point. I pulled my lower lip into my mouth and bit down on it, fighting the torrent of anxiety that was rising in my heart.

I swallowed the lump of emotion that was lodged in my throat as I waited for his answer. There was no way he could have missed the vulnerability in my voice.

But then he muttered something about gossip and my heart sunk.

He'd evidently been completely oblivious to my heartfelt sentiments.

I looked skywards and blinked my eyes closed several times, wishing away the pain that had reached a crescendo in my chest.

Kurt said something about texting me on his break to which I agreed and then murmured a hopeful 'I love you' but all I heard in return was the terrifying echo of a dial tone.

He hung up on me.

I pulled my phone away from my ear and just stared at it; waiting for him to call me back and explain how he'd accidently disconnected our call while trying to put someone else on hold.

But he never called back.

I clicked the screen of my phone off and held a hand to my lips, once again biting back tears.

It had never been this bad before.

He's never hung up without saying the words back to me.

We'd been saying 'I love you' after each and every phone call since that day in the Lima Bean when we'd both uttered the words for the first time.

It was our thing.

I took a deep breath and walked down the hallway towards my next class.

But I didn't make it to the classroom.

Turning down the hallway which led to the auditorium, I pulled out my phone and dialed Kurt's work number.

I needed to talk to him again. I needed to hear those words.

If he didn't say them, does that suggest that he doesn't mean them anymore?

My paranoia was intensifying as the phone rang several times unanswered.

Defeated, I pulled the phone away from my ear once again and ended the call without leaving a voicemail.

I didn't have the right words.

I sat in the auditorium for the remainder of the morning, remembering all of the times I'd been together with Kurt up on the stage.

Singing with the Glee club.

My audition for West Side Story and the feeling I got when they offered me the leading role of 'Tony'. I'd been so honored, but my first thought was… Kurt. He'd really wanted that role.

I also remembered our amazing kiss up on that stage following the production. It was one of my favorite kisses that we've shared to date and I will never forget the events of that same evening…

Our first time.

This auditorium had been Kurt's safe haven. Away from the bullies. Away from the fear.

Away from the doubt.

But now… it was just a darkened room with empty chairs and an eerie silence.

There was no hope or happiness here anymore.

Only doubt and disappointment.

I jumped up onto the stage, walking towards an empty chair which sat centre stage.

The same chair that Kurt sat in while I sang 'Cough Syrup.'

Everything reminds me of him.

Even as I turn to face the empty seats, I find myself doing a double take as I was certain I saw him sitting in the front row.

I think I'm going crazy.

It's almost like I can feel his presence behind me as I look out across the empty room.

But when I turn around… the chair is still empty.

I miss him so much that I am actually starting to hallucinate.

I feel like I'm barely breathing.

It's like I can't find the air.

I just need him to talk to me.

To tell me that everything is going to be okay.

That we're going to be okay.

I miss his voice. His sweet, beautiful voice.

I miss his perfectly coiffed hair.

I miss his insanely fashionable outfits – yes, even the hippo brooch.

Especially the hippo brooch.

I miss his pale skin. So pure and so soft.

I miss his soft kisses.

I miss his hands. His long and delicate fingers when they're intertwined in my own.

I miss his gentle touch.

'The touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets'

Ohhh, I miss his touch.

The haunting memories of the auditorium are too much for me and I find myself walking towards the only other place I know of where I can be alone right now.

The choir room.

Many more memories assault my soul as I set foot inside the tiny music room.

I can hear the songs, and see the choreography.

We've sang together here. A perfect duet.

We've danced together here.

We've decorated a Christmas tree together here.

Will I ever decorate another Christmas tree with Kurt by my side?

Until today, we'd planned to decorate a tree together every year for as long as we both lived.

The hollow feeling was growing more and more intense as realizations hit me harder than I ever expected.

If I lose him, who will I decorate the tree with?

Who else could possibly exist on this earth that matters enough to me for me to spend countless hours meticulously folding together gum wrappers to create the most perfect bowtie promise ring in the history of the world?

I promised to always love him.

I promised to defend him, even if I knew he was wrong.

I promised to surprise him.

I promised to always pick up his phone call. No matter what I was doing.

My heart sunk once again as I recalled my speech from that day in the hallway.

Obviously Kurt hadn't made the same promises.

I sat stretched out over a couple of chairs in the back row of the empty choir room, fighting the urge to call Kurt and yell at him.

How could he do this to me?

We made promises.

How could he just run off to New York and leave me here to die?

Alone.

Again.

The thought made me nauseated.

I can't be alone again.

It took me so long to find Kurt. If I lose him… I have nothing.

I can't be alone again.

Courage? What courage?

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I nearly fall off the chair trying to fish it out of my jeans.

It's Kurt! It has to be Kurt! He's calling to apologize for this morning!

It's not Kurt.

It's a text from Nick.

Nick Duval:

Blaine! Haven't heard from u 4eva! U ok? Wanna do coffee? Txt me!

I don't want coffee.

I want Kurt.

I'm tempted to click off my phone and throw it across the choir room.

But instead, I find myself opening the Facebook app and seeking out the photo album 'Blaine + Kurt' and sadly scrolling through all the candid photos of us together.

There are several of us in Dalton, both wearing our navy blazers. That's where it all started.

One of us cuddled together on the couch at the Hummel's house.

Another of us at the Lima Bean.

My favorite is from prom. Riding that damn dinosaur.

And another from graduation. Kurt's graduation. When he graduated… without me.

I release a long pained sigh and was just about to close the Facebook app when a notification catches my eye.

New friend request

Hmmmph. I don't want new friends.

I want Kurt.

For shits and giggles I decide to shuffle through my friends list.

Maybe I should text Nick back. Maybe I should go for coffee.

Maybe I should just not sit around like a pitiful beaten puppy and wait for Kurt to call me back.

He's probably not going to call me back anyways.

Most of the people on my friends list are from Dalton.

I loved Dalton.

It was my sanctuary. It was the place where I got to go to get away from my demons.

It's not always just about Kurt.

I have skeletons in my closet too.

But nobody seems to give a shit about that lately, do they?

Teenage Dream?

This feels more like a Teenage Nightmare.

Screw Kurt.

I'm not going to sit around and waste my life when he's off in New York doing who-knows-what with who-knows-who.

For all I know… he's probably out on some fancy lunch date with a new client.

It's probably a guy.

A gay guy.

A gay guy who knows a lot about fashion.

More than I know about fashion.

He's probably sitting in some sunny little coffee shop enjoying a non-fat mocha while I'm stuck here at McKinley.

They're probably laughing together.

While I'm sitting here miserable.

They share stories.

Does he even tell him about me?

Is he even thinking about me?

Screw Kurt.

I scroll through the list until I see a familiar name.

Eli. C

I haven't talked to Eli in ages.

Eli is this really cool guy that I met in my first year at Dalton.

Eli was not in the Warblers. He was on the rugby team.

Eli was smokin' hot.

Eli was also gay.

I had a little crush on Eli.

I'm pretty sure he knew it too.

He was a year ahead of me, but he was always cool about saying hi to me in the corridors at Dalton.

Eli was the guy that I looked up to when I first arrived at Dalton.

He was athletic. He was attractive. He was super popular.

Everybody loved Eli.

If Dalton were to crown a prom king, it would definitely be Eli.

He'd probably have also won the presidential campaign without even trying.

Everybody loved Eli.

I wanted to become Eli.

So I did. Well… I pretended to.

I slapped on a phony dapper personality and put so much gel in my hair to tame my wild curls that I had to wash it three times each night just to get it all out.

But I became popular.

I wasn't just the new transfer student who'd gotten his ass kicked at his old school.

I was Blaine Anderson.

And I was cool.

And that was the façade that Kurt fell in love with. So I kept it up. For Kurt.

Always for Kurt.

I couldn't help myself.

POKE

I don't really know what was going through my mind when I clicked on the poke button.

It had been so long since I'd talked to him. Would he even remember me?

I certainly wasn't expecting the quick reply.

Eli. C:

What's up, sexy?

So apparently he did remember me.

I couldn't help but smile.

It was the first time I'd smiled since…

You want to come over?

His boldness shouldn't have been surprising. This was Eli.

There was no dancing around the truth with Eli.

I hesitated for a brief moment.

Kurt.

What would Kurt say?

I'd been so mad at him for texting Chandler.

But this is different. I'm not getting dozens of ridiculously corny come-on lines from Eli.

He just wanted to hang out.

Right?

Screw Kurt.

If he can sit in a sunny coffee shop in New York with his sexy fashion expert, I can go see an old friend.

Right?

For some reason I was a little nervous to see Eli. It had been a while. We'd seen each other maybe once, twice at most since I'd transferred to McKinley.

I wonder if he still plays rugby.

I knocked once and the door sprung open in front of me and I was pulled into a tight embrace.

"Blaine! Damn boy! You look fiiiine!"

Yep… definitely the same old Eli.

Confident to a fault.

"Hey man… How've you been?" I said with an enthusiastic smile.

He was still smokin' hot.

And… if his greeting was any indication, I'm going to assume he's still gay too.

Eli, always the gentleman, invited me in and offered me a spot on his sofa, which I took.

He played host and brought us each a drink of something that smelled strongly of booze.

Bad things tend to happen when I drink booze.

"Uhhhh. E. You realize it's only like… 2pm right?"

He didn't skip a beat.

"It's five O' clock somewhere Anderson. Drink up."

So I drank it. And another one afterwards.

It felt good. It burned my throat.

It relaxed my mind and made me forget about all the things that had plagued my mind since this morning.

We talked about nothing in particular.

Turns out that he does still play rugby. He's the captain of his college team already. Go figure.

We talked about football, and music and even the election.

But we never talked about Kurt.

I wasn't exactly… avoiding it… I just didn't deem it necessary.

I wasn't doing anything wrong.

Just having a catch up session with an old friend.

Right?

Screw Kurt.

I finished up my third drink.

When Eli came back into the living room, he sat next to me on the sofa instead of on the chair in the corner of the room.

I didn't mind.

Eli was still smokin' hot.

And he smelled delicious.

My head started feeling a little fuzzy after the fourth drink, but I wasn't going to complain.

It was dulling my senses.

It was dulling my feelings.

It was dulling the pain.

And Eli was really smokin' hot.

I barely even flinched when he placed his hand on my thigh.

I pretended that I didn't notice.

But I noticed.

Honestly, I liked it.

Kurt hadn't put his hand on my thigh since…

Wow… that's not only just my thigh.

He noticed that I noticed.

It was hard not to notice. I jumped up off the couch.

KurtKurtKurtKurtKurt

"Blaine? You okay?"

I stuttered, trying to come up with an excuse.

"I have to go." I spurted. "I have homework."

Wow… that was classy.

"Blaine, come on… I'm sorry if I freaked you out. Come back and sit down. I was just messing around."

I looked at Eli.

But I thought of Kurt.

I love Kurt.

I would never do anything to hurt my Kurt.

He's the only one that I've ever been with.

He's the only one that I want to have ever been with.

"Blaine? Please. Come on. I'll keep my hands off if that's what you want."

Is that what I want?

I want Kurt.

But Kurt's not here.

Eli is here.

But I love Kurt.

But Eli is here.

I sat back down, watching him tentatively.

It was another two glasses of booze later when it happened again.

This time, he surprised me by leaning in and pressing a warm kiss into my neck when I had my head turned the other direction.

For a moment I thought it was Kurt's lips on the side of my neck.

Then I realized the lips were not soft like Kurt's. They were dry, and rough. And cold.

I also realized that the kiss didn't smell like Kurt's kisses. It smelled of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

KurtKurtKurtKurtKurt

I pulled away.

"I-I can't…" It was more of a squeak than anything remotely close to a masculine voice.

"Yes, you can, Blaine. You know you want it. You've always wanted it."

The words hurt because deep down, I knew they were true.

"I have a…"

"Boyfriend. I know. But he's not here, is he?"

Again, the truth hurts.

I frowned, stood up and walked towards the door.

I need to leave.

I need to talk to Kurt.

I need Kurt.

I love Kurt.

Eli's strong arms grabbed me from behind and turned me back so I was facing him. Before I had the opportunity to protest, his dry, rough, cold lips were pressed against my own.

The smell was wrong. All wrong.

I instantly felt queasy. And I don't think it had anything to do with the vast amount of alcohol that was running through my veins.

I tried to pull away once again, but the arms around my back and shoulders were too strong.

I pressed my hands into his muscular chest and pushed him away with all my strength.

"No."

Eli looked disappointed. Or pissed off. I couldn't really say for sure.

I grabbed my jacket from the bench beside the door and took off, slamming the door behind me.

As I was running out to my car, I heard Eli scream across the parking lot.

"You know you want this Anderson. You need it. I can give you what he can't. When you finally admit it, I'll still be here."

Tears were flowing down my cheeks as I climbed inside my car.

I drove about a block before I pulled over into a desolate parking lot.

I was in no shape to drive.

Between the booze and the free-flowing tears, driving was definitely not an option.

I got out of my car and screamed.

Screamed.

At the top of my lungs.

I'd never done that before. It was kinda weird.

Yet… completely exhilarating.

And therapeutic.

I screamed three more times before punching my hand into the window of my car, severely bruising my knuckles in the process.

The pain felt good.

How did this happen?

How did I end up here?

How could losing Kurt to New York turn me into a raving lunatic who screamed into the sky?

I climbed inside my car once again and took out my frustrations on the steering wheel.

I pack a mean punch when I want to and if that steering wheel could talk, I assure you, it would agree.

My head was still incredibly fuzzy. And now my temples were beginning to throb.

Still certain that driving was not an option, I climbed back out of my car and decided to walk it off.

I walked though a park.

There were couples in the park. A few of them were even making out.

None of them were gay though.

But it still reminded me of Kurt.

It made my chest tighten.

I sat down under a giant oak tree. The leaves had begun to fall.

If I wasn't so upset, I'm sure I'd have taken the time to appreciate the beauty.

Somewhere along the line I passed out.

When I woke up, I was freezing cold. And it was dark.

I stumbled my way to my feet and haphazardly looked around at my surroundings.

Where the fuck was I?

My headache was back… with a vengeance.

I looked at my watch.

11:06pm

Holy fuck.

I vaguely remembered the walk through the park and…

Oh right… Eli.

Oh god. What have I done?

I stumbled back towards my car.

I reached inside my jeans to find my keys.

They weren't there.

Panic rose in my chest as I desperately searched through every pocket.

Nothing.

Oh god.

My phone…

…is sitting on Eli's coffee table.

Fuck fuck fuck!

I looked around.

There was nothing.

It was eerily silent. Not a soul in sight.

I spent about an hour pacing next to my car, wracking my brain about what to do.

I decided to walk.

I left my car in the parking lot and I started to walk in the direction of home.

I'd only gone about six blocks when I heard footsteps behind me.

My heart rate quickened.

This was not a very good neighborhood to be out walking alone in at midnight.

I sped up, and was terrified to hear that the footsteps sped up too.

Before I knew what was happening, I found myself being pressed up against the unforgiving concrete wall of a building on a deserted side street.

The back of my head smashed up against the concrete and billions of tiny silver stars entered my vision.

"Give me everything you've got…"A horrid, grizzly voice growled.

Bile rose in my throat.

The man pressed his forearm against my throat, effectively cutting off my air supply.

"I said…" The figure growled, pressing me even harder into the wall. "Empty your pockets!"

I shook my head and hissed out with what remaining oxygen remained in my lungs. "I don't have a-anything!"

The man released a snarl that sent chills up my spine and knocked me to the ground.

When my head connected with the pavement, vivid memories from that night in the Westerville High School parking lot flooded back.

The kicks. The punches. The screams.

I couldn't do this again.

KurtKurtKurtKurtKurt

I need Kurt.

A single kick to the ribs was enough to knock the air completely from my lungs.

I lay gasping on the freezing pavement as the man moved his hands down my body, searching my pockets for anything of value.

He found nothing.

This apparently pissed him off even further, because he landed another kick to my ribs before snarling at me and running off down the street.

I lay there on the frozen, filthy ground for an unknown amount of time before I unsteadily climbed to my feet.

My ribs ached, but they weren't broken.

I know what broken ribs feel like.

These weren't broken. Bruised maybe.

I hesitated for only a moment.

There was only one place I could go.

Considering that it was nearly 2am, Eli looked surprisingly wide awake when he opened the door.

At first he looked stunned to see me.

Then smug. Like he'd expected it to happen eventually.

But when I burst into tears and jumped into his arms… I think he looked a little worried.

"Blaine? What the…"

When I pulled away, he looked shocked, but not disgusted.

"Are you…?"

I nodded, desperately wiping the tears from my face.

I just cried in front of Eli.

Not cool, Blaine. Not cool.

He took in my grubby appearance and led me back over to the sofa before pouring me a very full glass of whatever it was we'd been drinking before and sat down next to me. So close that our legs were touching.

I didn't mind. I needed the warmth.

My hands were still trembling as I picked up the glass.

I drank the whole thing.

The booze hit me a lot faster this time, but I didn't mind a bit.

It warmed me up and dulled out the memories once again.

I couldn't tell him what had happened.

We just sat there. Saying nothing. Doing nothing.

Until it happened again.

And this time I didn't fight it.

I couldn't.

I was so exhausted and scared and in such desperate need of human contact that I let it happen.

It started out slow and awkward.

He kissed my neck while rubbing his hand down my thigh.

My breath caught slightly when his hand slipped in between my legs and gently rubbed my crotch.

Eli pulled away for a brief moment and looked into my eyes.

"Let me take care of you okay?"

I nodded.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

The kissing got more intense as he let his lips linger around my jaw line for several moments before unbuttoning my shirt and making his way down my chest with his tongue.

I closed my eyes and pretended it was Kurt.

But it wasn't Kurt.

His tongue was too broad and the smell was all wrong.

In my hazy state, I felt him lift me up off the couch and carry me into the bedroom.

He laid me on the bed and climbed on top of me.

His body was warm.

I was still so cold.

His hands were large. Too large. They didn't fit my body properly.

I barely realized that it was happening, but somehow my shirt was completely pulled off and Eli was kissing and licking down my chest, over my stomach and onto my abdomen.

His tongue circled my belly button.

I closed my eyes.

If I couldn't see that it wasn't Kurt, it didn't scare me so much.

I needed this.

I needed to be held.

I needed to be loved.

I need…

I couldn't think about him. Not right now.

Not when there is another body lying on top of my own, kissing me in places only he is allowed to kiss me and touching me in places that only hehas ever seen.

I can't do this.

I can't do this to Kurt.

I try to sit up, but strong arms press me back down onto the bed.

"Just relax, Blaine. I'm going to take care of you."

"No," I sob. "I-I c-can't do this…"

His mouth comes back up and meets mine.

I don't want him to kiss me.

I especially don't want him to kiss my lips.

My lips are for… Kurt.

"I'm going to make you feel good, okay? Just relax."

I try once again to push away, but something inside me snaps.

Like literally snaps.

It's like my heart is officially broken now.

My brain is still swimming with thoughts and fears and booze and I try to struggle away, but my body feels so heavy and empty that I just give up.

I'm too tired to fight.

I'm too scared to scream.

And I'm too alone to care.

So I let him touch me.

I let him kiss me.

I let him undress me.

I wince when I feel his lips surround my cock.

A whimper escapes my lips as he sucks and licks and blows gently.

I'm embarrassed when I get hard.

And I'm ashamed when he makes me come.

In my mind, I was silently wishing that would be the end of it.

But in my heart I knew that wasn't going to be the case.

My heart rate quickens when I hear the condom wrapper.

A shiver shrills up my naked spine as he pours a puddle of lube into his hand.

Tears freely flow from my eyes when he turns me onto my stomach and presses himself inside of me.

The pain was intense.

But it was masked by the heavy ache in my heart.

I squeeze my eyes closed as he adjusts himself and pushes in deeper.

I tried to push myself up off the bed. I need to make it stop.

He presses his body down on top of mine, and forces me further into the mattress.

I can't get away.

"It's okay, baby. Relax. No one will find out."

His whispers make me sick to my stomach.

With each thrust, my heart breaks into billions of tiny fragments.

I clench my fists into the sheets and bury my head deep into the pile of pillows.

There was no pleasure.

No 'making me feel good.'

Only pain.

I deserve the pain.

He spoke harsh words to me that I would never have heard if I were with…

No… I definitely can't think of him right now.

Not while he's inside me.

He keeps telling me that I wanted it.

That I deserve it.

That I need it.

I cried the entire time.

As he finished, I cried even harder.

The heavy sobs caused my entire body to tremble.

I knew he heard me.

A surge of pain swept through my body as he pulled himself out.

The cool air connected with my exposed and violated entrance.

But I didn't care.

I deserved the pain.

He placed a gentle kiss on my lower back, only inches above my ass and whispered softly into my ear, "See baby? Wasn't that worth it?"

And then he fell asleep.

I lay there unmoving for the rest of the night. Due to pain or fear, I can't be sure.

The tears never slowed.

The hole in my heart was seemingly irreparable.

I was still awake hours later, clutching a pillow to my aching chest when he stirred.

He rolled over and wrapped an arm around my back.

I scrunched my eyes closed and pretended to be asleep.

I'm sure he saw the tears and knew otherwise.

I feigned sleep for another hour when I heard him in the kitchen making breakfast.

Who could eat at a time like this?

I heard him go and get in the shower. And I saw him sneak back into the bedroom.

"Blaine… baby… There's toast if you're hungry. Help yourself to whatever. I have to go to class."

And he was gone.

I stayed still in the strange, cold, filthy bed for several more minutes before rolling onto my side.

It hurt. Everything hurt.

But I deserved the pain.

I managed to swing my legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the scream of agony that tore up my spine.

I deserved that pain too.

The walk into the bathroom was a slow and arduous one.

Walking hurt. Moving hurt.

Everything hurts.

I finally reach the toilet in time to spew the vile contents of my stomach into the white porcelain.

Oh, sweet white porcelain.

The dry heaves tug on my aching ribs and send shockwaves through my lower half.

But I deserve the pain.

I will always deserve the pain for what I've done.

I have to go.

I have to get away from here.

But I can't go home.

Not looking like this.

I am certainly not going to school.

Then it finally hits me.

The one place I should have went to begin with.

Not the auditorium.

Not the choir room.

Definitely not Eli's place.

I needed to see Kurt.

I needed to go to New York.

After a much needed long, borderline-masochistically hot shower that after which, I still felt filthy, I logged onto Eli's computer and booked the first flight to New York that I could get. It didn't leave until the late afternoon.

I took a cab to the airport and waited.

And waited.

I needed out of that apartment.

I needed out of that nightmare.

I don't know what my plan was going to be.

I didn't even care.

I just needed to see him. To hold him.

For him to hold me.

Apparently my messed up brain decided that showing up on Kurt's doorstep with a giant bouquet of red roses was going to be enough to fix everything and for him to forgive me for what I was about to tell him.

I plastered on my façade; a dapper smile and a chipper voice and knocked on the door.

Kurt was surprised.

"Blaine! This is amazing, but I wasn't expecting you for another two weeks!"

He hugged me.

If he'd known where I'd been… he probably wouldn't have hugged me.

Dapper thoughts Blaine… Dapper thoughts.

"I know. I just couldn't wait any longer. I-I… miss you too much." It sounded a little forced.

"I miss you too! It's so good to see you!"

He leaned in and I knew if I didn't kiss him that he'd know immediately that something was up.

It was a hesitant, awkward kiss that didn't taste right, but was fortunately interrupted by Rachel.

I hadn't accommodated Rachel into my plan.

Or Finn.

I was genuinely surprised by his emergence. He looked… better.

The army had done him good apparently.

Rachel squeaked something about the good old days and I kept the fake smile plastered to my face the whole way out to the cab.

We were going out for our first official night out in New York.

Hurrah for us.

"You okay?"

I didn't realize that I'd been staring off into space.

"You seem a little…" Kurt added with a chuckle.

Dapper. Dapper. Dapper.

"Ohh… I'm… great." I lied. "It was just a rough flight. I had a middle seat because I booked the ticket so last minute."

I wasn't going to tell him that the real reason why it was such a rough flight was that my ass was still raw from where another guy had pounded me into his mattress only hours before and I was having a hard time sitting down.

I didn't think that would go over very well.

My plan was to show up at the apartment and get Kurt alone so I could tell him what had happened.

I didn't want to.

But he deserved to know.

That plan had gone to shit and now I found myself sitting on a ridiculously uncomfortable bar stool trying to make small talk with the love of my life who I had just cheated on.

Hurrah for me.

I tried to smile with Kurt's enthusiasm, but it was getting increasingly harder.

I hated lying to him.

I sat through the duet that Rachel and her new… friend Brody sang, though I really didn't hear it.

My messed up mind was forming a whole new plan.

"I want to sing something."

I walked over to where Pascal the pianist was seated and asked him if I could perform a song. He gladly stepped aside.

I took a deep breath as I allowed my fingers to grace over the keys of the piano ever so slightly.

"Ummm…Hi, everyone. I… ummm…I want to sing a song that's very special to me." I started.

I'd never been so nervous to perform in all my life.

It felt as though my façade was slipping away.

I turned my eyes downward. There was no way that I could look Kurt in the eyes right now.

"This is the song that I sang the first time I ever met the love of my life. So Kurt… this is for you."

Before you met me, I was alright.

But things were kinda heavy,

You brought me to life…

As the song continued, my voice grew more and more forced. When I reached the chorus, I took a deep breath and finally chanced a look out across the audience to where Kurt sat watching my performance with a wide grin.

He really had no idea what was coming.

My voice broke as I considered what this was going to do to him.

You make me,

Feel like I'm living a Teenage Dream

The way you turn me on…

His face fell and I knew that he'd finally caught on.

The sheer look of unexpected shock on his face made it next to impossible for me to look at him and maintain my composure enough to sing.

I could feel my fingers growing wet with perspiration and they were beginning to tremble on the keys.

I looked away from the audience, down towards the piano as I struggled to keep my voice calm and steady.

Imma get your heart racing

In my skintight jeans…

I was almost unable to finish the line. My voice completely crumbled with emotion.

Risking another look towards Kurt, my heart shattered when I found that he looked completely alarmed.

I was forced to change the arrangement of the song on the fly to allow me to finish sooner. I sped it up and rushed through the last several lines of the song.

There was no way I could finish.

I'll let you put your hands on me

In my skintight jeans

Be your Teenage Dream… tonight.

The last few lines hurt me. I couldn't stop thinking about how I'd let Eli put his hand on me the night before, and now, here I was singing about it to Kurt?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I was so upset that I didn't see Kurt forget to clap, or hear the cheers and applause from the audience.

All I could hear was the sound of Eli's suave voice whispering into my ear.

"I'm going to make you feel good, okay? Just relax."

"That was… moving." Kurt broke the silence.

We had been walking a good distance behind Finn and Rachel. Neither of us had said a word.

It was the most awkward of all awkward silences.

I still couldn't speak. There were no words.

I nodded a hastily apologetic nod but still said nothing.

"I guess I'm kind of wondering why that was."

I could feel him turning to look at me but I still avoided his gaze.

I had to tell him.

But I couldn't.

"Well… you know… I uhhh…I really missed you."

I forced myself to make eye contact.

His beautiful eyes.

The combination of greens and blues and greys.

The color, not one I had ever been able to come up with a name for.

I loved his eyes.

But tonight they were sad.

Worried.

Afraid.

And I had caused this.

"I missed you too. And I'm really glad that you're here." It was forced. His smile was forced.

He wasn't glad I was here. I could hear it in his voice.

"But…"

Here it comes.

"You've been so emotional. And weirdly sad."

He knows.

"Please stop pretending that there's nothing wrong."

He definitely knows.

I can't turn back now.

As much as I wish that I could turn away from the love of my life and run away to prevent having to do this to him, I have no choice.

He needs to know.

He deserves to know.

I know that the moment the words slip from my lips that everything will be over.

And rightfully so.

He deserves better.

We stop walking.

I'm looking at him and he's looking at me.

He's desperate for the truth and I'm desperate to hide it.

But I can't.

"I was with someone."

The words tumble from my mouth.

I had planned to sugar coat it to make it less painful, but somehow, the words escaped without permission.

The look on Kurt's face was gut-wrenching.

The fake smile disappeared. It literally slid right off his face and I was left staring at the most terrifying sight I've ever seen.

He looked broken.

And I did that. I caused that look.

We stood staring at each other for several minutes.

It was as though he was trying to wait for the punchline.

But there was no punchline.

"It was Sebastian, wasn't it?"

His accusatory tone brought me back to life.

He hadn't run away. He hadn't slapped my face and took off as I'd expected.

Maybe there was a chance.

"No… It… It wasn't Sebastian." My voice cracked.

I tried to explain. To make excuses.

"It didn't mean anything."

Right.

To me, it didn't mean anything, but to Kurt… It meant everything.

It meant that I'd broken every one of those promises.

It meant that I'd broken him.

"It was just a hook up, okay?"

"Then who was it?" He was sounding more and more upset.

I might get that slap yet.

"It doesn't matter who it was with Kurt."

Why can't he understand?

I cheated on him.

Someone else fucked me.

And I just laid there and let it happen.

"What matters is that I was by myself. I needed you. I needed you around, and you weren't there."

Anger was bubbling from somewhere within my core.

How could I turn this around on him?

I shouldn't be angry. He should be angry.

This wasn't his fault. Why were my words turning to acid?

His words should be acid.

It's my fault this happened.

My fault.

The anger faded to sadness and regret.

"And I was lonely. And I'm really sorry."

"You don't think that I've been lonely?"

There is the anger.

"You don't think that I've had temptations?

His face flushed red and he spoke the words that I'd been expecting but still feared.

"But I didn't act on it because I knew what it meant. It meant something horrible and awful… and…"

He couldn't finish. He was upset.

Really upset.

And I had caused this.

I fucked everything up.

"I'm so sorry Kurt. I really am."

I knew the words were meaningless. But they were spoken just the same.

He started crying.

Crying.

And he walked away from me.

I stood there, all alone.

I was numb. My chest ached and my stomach was clenched, but I was numb.

It felt like I'd just lost my best friend.

This could be the end.

I watched as he circled his arms around himself and ran across the park.

Away from me.

Who wouldn't run away from me?

I'm a monster.

I ran after him, catching up to him beside the fountain.

We sat side by side, neither saying a word.

I just wanted him to say something.

Anything.

Tell me that you hate me. That you never want to see me again.

That's what I deserve.

But he said nothing.

We sat in silence for only a moment more before he spun off the ledge of the fountain and took off again.

This time I didn't follow him.

I spent the next few hours alone in the park crying.

I don't know why I was crying. I wasn't the one who'd been hurt.

I caused this.

I caused the hurt.

I caused the pain.

I finally made my way back to his apartment. He obviously knew it was me when he opened the door.

He didn't say anything though.

I followed him into his bedroom and we just sat there.

Again, no words were exchanged.

The silence was killing me.

Why couldn't he just scream at me?

Why couldn't he just start throwing things at me and hitting me?

It's what I deserved.

The silence was worse than any violent act he could have bestowed upon me.

He wouldn't even look at me.

Why would he? How could he?

After what I'd done?

Hours later, we both pulled on our pajamas and crawled under the covers, defeated.

There was no warmth in the bed.

There were no gentle touches or loving kisses.

Only coldness and shame.

Lies and betrayal.

He turned his body away from mine, effectively shunning me.

I knew it was over.

And it hurt.

But it's what I deserved.

I rolled over onto my side and hesitated before reaching up and switching off the lamp at the exact moment that Kurt reached up and switched off his as well.

The darkness that resulted was ironic.

It was as if we had just turned the light off on our relationship.

Our love.

And all that remained was an empty darkness.