Eyes. Too small. Too dark. So close suddenly and the face is right there. Upon him. Lips dry rough hard. Wrong. But he can’t move. Can’t breathe. Like cement was poured over his soul and he’s crushed stepped on like a bug like nothing powerless and wrong wrong wrong. He needs his voice. Needs to cry. Needs to scream. No. Please no.

“Kurt … Kurt.”

The hand on his shoulder is sure and warm and. “Blaine.”

Kurt opens his eyes and blinks the moisture that is still there teetering. “Blaine,” he repeats because the image is still burning behind his eyelids and he needs it to go away. To not have ever been there.

“I’m here. You okay? You’re shaking.”

Looking around, Kurt sees the afternoon sunlight is waning. They’d been studying in Blaine’s bedroom. Books still litter the bed. Must have dozed off. Not the first time. Blaine is soft to cuddle with. Safe. And he’s never had one of those dreams with him before.

“What’s wrong?” he’s asked once more.

He hasn’t looked Blaine in the eyes yet, can sense his boyfriend’s growing anxiousness.

“Kurt, you woke up crying.” Blaine’s voice is trembling now. Concern thickening his normally soft tone.

“I had a dream,” he answers finally and his own voice is hardly a whisper.

“A nightmare?”

He nods and his chin touches Blaine’s shoulder. He keeps his head down, pressed tight against hard muscle and thinks how easy it is to hide here like this.

Blaine shifts slightly, pulls his arm tighter around Kurt and the warmth is working inside him, soothing. “About what happened with David?”

“I forgave him. I did. It’s … never wanted … that.”

“Of course,” Blaine says instantly. “And he knows that. You said it went well, your visit. Is there something you didn’t tell me?”

“It did. I thought it did. I thought. I forgave him Blaine.”

The arm around him squeezes even harder. “What was your dream about, Kurt?”

Kurt shudders. He never told anyone about the dreams. And it had been a long time since he’d had one. This one was mild. Sometimes they didn’t stop at kissing. Sometimes those ham-hock arms shove him into the cold tile floor and press against him. And he’s so frozen he can’t even cry. But it wasn’t like that. It was just a kiss from a confused, hurt boy who wanted to die before facing himself. And Kurt knows what that’s like. Although he’d never, could never do something like that to his dad.

He takes a breath and shifts up. Finally looks into the golden eyes that hold his heart in their depths. If not Blaine, then who? “It was about that day in the locker room.”

“The day David kissed you?” Blaine asks softly.

“I didn’t want him to. I didn’t want that. It was more than just the shock. It was wrong.”

“I know.”

“Sometimes I dream about it. And I’m stuck. Like paralyzed. And I can’t stop it. Stop him. Like that day. But it’s been a while. Haven’t dreamt it in a while.”

It’s silent a few moments. Blaine’s eyes never leave his. They shine with compassion and Kurt feels the tears prick again. “And all this brought it all back.” Blaine caresses his face and barely brushes their lips together.

When they part Kurt shuts his eyes. “If I’d called him back. Then maybe … “

“No. Don’t do that to yourself. You’re not … you’re only human. What he did to you, put you through. It was wrong.”

The suffocation of the dream pounds on his chest. Vibrates through his veins. It’s adrenaline and fear. And more. Sometimes he wishes he could just. The muscles in his jaw, his abdomen, his arms contract. He pulls out of Blaine’s grasp and sits up, hitting the bed hard with a fist he hadn’t realized he’d made. “I didn’t want it.” The words are harsh and spit out like gravel against the pavement. “Didn’t want his hands, his mouth, his lips. Didn’t want him to touch me.”

Blaine is sitting up now, too. Giving him space but showing the care with eyes about to break.

“And then he had the nerve to tell me he loves me.” Kurt can’t stop now. He’s trembling with it, from fighting it, from the feel of someone’s mouth on his as he spits disgust and shame and terror down. “There was a time … “ He swipes the tears falling uselessly down his cheeks. “I made out a will.” He laughs bitterly. “It was after, when he said he’d kill me. And I thought … so I wrote a letter to my dad just in case.” Kurt looks up now and brushes the tears from Blaine’s face. “I asked him to give you my scarves.”

Kurt had hoped that Blaine might smile and at first he does try. But then his arms surround him. “I love you,” Blaine whispers against Kurt’s neck. Kurt just holds on, lets that feeling of having Blaine in his life wash over him. It never fails to overwhelm because it’s everything.

For a while they just let their hearts beat together. “I really thought I’d forgiven him,” Kurt says into the silence.

Blaine pulls back. “You did.” He touches Kurt’s forehead gently. “Here.” He moves his hand down until it rests over Kurt’s heart. “It’ll take a little longer for here. But that’s okay.” This time he does smile crookedly. “And the fact that you care so much. That it matters so much to you … If I weren’t already so madly in love with you I can’t think straight, I’d fall in love with you all over again.”

Kurt smiles back. Because he’s been falling in love with Blaine all over again every day since the day they met.

“I promised I’d go see him again. That we’d be friends.” Blaine squeezes his hand but says nothing. “What if it makes my dreams start up again?”

“Then you tell me about it. And we’ll figure something out.”

“You can’t always be here when I wake up.” Kurt blushes the second the words are out, realizes how they sound.

“Wish I could be,” Blaine says eyes clear and sure.

“In the hospital I asked David to imagine a future. A future with someone who loves him and maybe a child they are raising together. A place where he’s happy.”

“That’s lovely,” Blaine says after a second.

They sit quietly after that looking at each other. It’s not necessary to say it but Kurt lets himself think it. How lucky he is. How easily it could be different. How his ability to forgive is linked directly to his ability to love. And how this boy gave him both.

fin