Rated: vahva K11 i believe
fandom: glee
Summary: ”You can’t fix me, y’know”, Kurt mumbles against his pillows once. “I’m too fucked up to be fixed”.
Word count: about 1590
warnings: itsetuhoisuus ):
disclaimer: en omista, en saa rahaa (</3) ja nimikin on pöllitty the mainen kappaleesta "color" jota raiskasin tätä kirjoittaessa
a/n: au. glee clubia ei koskaan ollutkaan, blaine siirtyy sieltä edellisestä koulustaan mckinleyhyn eikä daltoniin ja silleen. älkää hakatko, eka klaine-ficci ja tää on varmaan aika perse mutta
-
Kurt Hummel, in the age of seventeen, is very annoying and very gay smartass.
At least, that’s what he hears from his classmates. He’s learned to block it out, he believes, he has learned not to talk to people in school, to blend into the walls and move quietly, dress like everyone else and make promises he always breaks.
He’s used to it, really, he’s learned to roll his eyes at the people shouting “faggot” at him, he’s used to always ache somewhere because of the people constantly pushing him around and against lockers and he gave up counting his bruises a long time ago. He’s learned to joke about it like it’s nothing.
He likes to think he’s strong, likes to keep his head held high - at least until he steps out of his car in the parking lots of the school.
He feels strong again in his room, though. The blade is a bit too sharp in his hand and he tries, he really does. He feels in control and almost loved and then his dad shouts “goodnight” from the hallway and Kurt tries to not sound like he’s crying when he answers.
Because see, the people in McKinley High like to push the people who stand out until they fall and break.
—
It’s lunch break and Kurt is standing next to his locker (because well, no-one is ever there during the lunch breaks) eating his sandwich slowly. He’s got twenty minutes before the break will end, and he really doesn’t want to go just yet… It’s nice just where he is. The silence is nice and it’s just warm enough to be comfortable.
He finishes eating in five minutes, still deep in his thoughts and drawing invisible lines to his left wrist with his index finger absentmindedly, when someone on his right pats his arm gently.
He jumps. He’s ashamed to admit it but going to a hell like McKinley has taught him to jump at every sound he doesn’t immediately recognize - as well as at every touch he receives -. It’s usually the bullies, anyway, so he’s usually pretty grateful for his reflexes and the ability to run faster than them, but the dark haired boy actually looks worried.
“Oh, wow, sorry”, he says, and looks truly apologetic. “I didn’t mean to scare you or anything, I’m sorry”, he says and flashes Kurt a big smile. And even that is scary, because really, what the fuck? No-one ever says sorry to fucking Kurt Hummel and this boy just did. And smiled. Holy fuck.
“No, it’s okay. I’m Kurt”, he says, surprised at how steady his voice is. The stranger smiles at him again, and Kurt finds himself staring at his face for a moment too long - his eyes are a perfect shade of… what? They’re somewhat close to honey and chocolate and theY look totally eatable and he’s kind of really, really beautiful.
“I’m Blaine. I’m new here.”
—
It takes only a few weeks and suddenly it’s only Blaine, Blaine this and Blaine that, Kurt forgets about the bullies for a little while because Blaine’s hand is warm and his grip tight, he smiles and laughs like the world was a beautiful place.. Karofsky and the other jocks push them around, still, but Kurt has someone he can call to in nights when he’s too scared to sleep.
Blaine’s touch is so gentle and still he hugs Kurt so tightly he’s afraid he might break… Blaine is so strong and Kurt feels strong too.
Blaine tells him about his previous school, sometimes. Kurt grasps his hand tightly when he speaks about the bullies he dealt with earlier, and Kurt grasps tighter when Blaine’s eyes fill with tears. He swallows his tears and tells Blaine he’s perfect and he smiles. And Kurt smiles back. Blaine is so strong and so perfect and Kurt is so in love.
They talk about everything, difficult things and easy things, they talk about them and school and everything like that, and then Blaine is running his fingers up and down Kurt’s wrists over the table, their free hands grasping each other gently.
“I don’t like them”, Kurt says quietly, then. Blaine has stopped running his fingers along the white scars and is just stroking at them with his thumb. “They remind me that I’ve been weak. That I’m weak.”
Blaine stops and looks at Kurt slowly.
“No”, he says. “They should remind you that you’ve survived. They should make you remember that you’ve fought and you’re still fighting and that you’re still around and that nothing can break you”.
It’s cheesy and stupid and Kurt finds himself crying, because god, how is this boy even real? And Blaine hugs him, doesn’t mind when Kurt buries his face into his neck and tangles his fingers into Blaine’s hair, doesn’t mind that Kurt’s soaking his shirt with his tears and that there’s a couple a few tables away looking at them disapprovingly.
And when he finally unwraps his arms and steps back, mumbling “sorry” and wiping his nose on the sleeve of his shirt (even though it cost him fucking lot of money and he really doesn’t want to ruin it but he also feels a bit disgusted at himself so what ever), Blaine still looks at Kurt like he’s everything and Kurt makes a promise to try. He tries so hard that he’s afraid he might explode.
—
He’s feeling stronger now, but there’s still nights when he misses the easy way to escape, and he greets the razor blade - hidden between the battery of his phone and the back cover of it - like an old friend every time. Blaine notices, though, looks into his eyes and just stares. And Kurt cries, every time. And feels better. He always feels better after it.
They say goodbye in the doorstep of Kurt’s house and Blaine kisses his cheek.
Kurt stares out of the window long after the car disappears out the sight, tapping at his cheek with his fingers absentmindedly where it still seems to tingle.
—
Blaine traces his fingers over his scars sometimes. It’s just a light touch, barely even there, and Kurt feels his heart break each time it happens. Blaine’s face is unreadable and as he leans to kiss the scars, one by one, Kurt sighs heavily.
“Don’t”, he says gently. “Just don’t. You don’t have to”, he says and Blaine sighs too, then. His eyes are so very gentle, like melted chocolate and honey mixed together and Kurt kind of really loves the expression on his face.
It’s the painfully loving expression Kurt gets when he says something overly cheesy, or holds Blaine’s hand, or kisses his nose or cheek or lips or whatever. It’s such an adorable expression, the affection practically leaking out of Blaine’s eyes and it makes Kurt want to roll his eyes and kiss him at the same time. He wonders if he ever looks at Blaine like that.
He hopes he does.
—
All it takes are two words and a few punches, Kurt is a crying mess on the ground and his hair is slowly freezing and sticking onto his cheek and he kind of feels really disgusting. Blaine is not in school and it’s the first time this happened in, what, three months? And it’s kind of shocking and scary and suddenly he’s reminded that he’s really nothing but a disgusting faggot. All the work they did fades a bit more with each letter and Kurt is running.
He doesn’t bother with explaining it to anyone, just storms off and into his car and drives home. Home is good.
He’s not sure what happens then, it’s messy and he feels dizzy and he has no idea who called Blaine but suddenly he’s there, untangles Kurt’s fingers from the blade slowly, carefully and whispers comforting little words into his ear, and when Blaine finishes cleaning up the blood and starts gently wrapping bandages around his arms Kurt is shaking.
They sit in silence for a long time, just breathing, and for a while everything Kurt can hear is his own breathing, too loud in his own ears and when Kurt finally gets his breathing somewhat under control Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt.
“I’m sorry”, he says quietly, looking down at his hands. He doesn’t know why he did it and regrets it so much and Blaine presses a little kisses onto his temple and just shushes him.
—
“You can’t fix me, y’know”, Kurt mumbles against his pillows once. “I’m too fucked up to be fixed”.
They’re laying on Kurt’s bed, curled up together, Blaine’s chest pressed against Kurt’s back even though Kurt is the taller one of them. They’ve been lying there for quite a while now, talking quietly, and Kurt can feel Blaine’s hands on his wrists again.
“You’re right.” he says and Kurt can feel him nodding. “I can’t fix you. You’re the only one who can do that, but I will be there for you, always. Whenever you need me”, he says, kissing Kurt’s neck lightly.
“I’m so glad I have you”, even though that was probably the most cheesiest thing ever to say you moron, he mumbles. Blaine sighs quietly and Kurt knows he’s been heard. There’s a comfortable silence for a few minutes, only breathing and arms and solid, warm bodies and Kurt is just about to fall asleep. Blaine shifts slightly behind him and Kurt can feel him opening his mouth.
“Kurt? I don’t think that you’re fucked up.”
