kurt.

Out of everyone, Blaine seemed to be the most concerned with what did or didn’t bother Kurt.  Probably because he knew about Kurt’s need for space and about the bullying, whereas the guys at McKinley weren’t really close to him in the first place and the ones at Dalton didn’t know about exactly why he transferred.  Still, it meant a lot that Blaine respected his boundaries like he did.  

Kurt smiled a little and chuckled softly.  Quite frankly, he didn’t give a rat’s ass what landed him a shoulder rub but he did realize he should probably verbalize an answer before he falls asleep like this.  “Not worried.  I just haven’t worked anything out in a while.”  It hurt a little, as knots do when being messed with, but Kurt was not about to complain.  He wasn’t going to focus on the last few questions on the page either, but he could finish that later. 

Blaine always handled Kurt with a carefully measured amount of practiced gentility.  From the tones he used in their conversations to the way he carried himself around him.  This wasn’t any different.  One slight tensing up of Kurt’s muscles and he’d have stepped back and let him go with an apology and a promise to never cross that line again.  All of it due to the fact that he knew Kurt’s story and what was worse?  He lived it to an extent that he briefly mentioned but never fully explained to the other boy because Kurt was always his focus. Anything he could do to keep those tears he saw each time they threatened to fall at bay. Whether it was what him speaking about what he went through when they first met?  Or coming to Dalton only to reveal more stories about McKinley during their late night talks.  A coil of rage and desperate want to make Kurt better always settled in his stomach until he fixed things and they were both laughing and happy again.  Because that was when Kurt was his most—beautiful.  Welp!

Time for a deep breath, a quick dismissal of that thought and to carry on like it never happened. Blaine was bound to treat him tenderly the more he got to know him and become that person who he wished he had before Dalton and the Warblers.  Of course. Because he was perfectly fine now.  Not thinking about the past at all.  Or how he wished he was there to ward off anything that could hurt someone so sweet and kind as Kurt.  Definitely not. Instead, his fingers danced down the length of Kurt’s throat to his shoulders.  Bending down, he softly whispered. “Scoot forward.  Got an idea.  I need some room if you don’t mind, Mister Hummel?”