v: the sound of pulling heaven down

kurt.

He keeps his eyes on the ceiling a moment longer after Blaine started to move, but he meets his eyes when he speaks up again. There’s concern in his voice, Kurt can hear it. He doesn’t know what he’s even doing here. Coming to Blaine because he can’t sleep, having this conversation, and for what? Because Blaine happened to be nice enough to have helped him? Nice enough to lend him a place to sleep.. There’s no obligation and yet he does it. And Kurt has kept coming back. They were both idiots.
He doesn’t say any of this though. Instead he takes a deep breath and purses his lips and after a beat he answers Blaine’s question. “I don’t know for sure, it’s not like they’re all in a pack the whole time.. Six?”

They might be idiots but Blaine could never bring himself to not be the kind of idiot that Kurt might need. What that said about him–Blaine wasn’t sure. Was it loyal and sympathetic for him to keep his door open and find himself waiting for the nights when Kurt would show up because he knew Kurt was safe here and he didn’t have to worry about him as much? If so? Then good. Whatever else it stated about the kind of person he was? Blaine didn’t care.
Not when he knew he was doing whatever small amount of GOOD he could for someone who needed it. Not just someone. For a boy who he cared about and wanted to make his life a little bit better. A thing he’d like to think he was doing. “Six,” an olive toned hand shifted so Blaine could palm over his mouth before tucking it underneath his cheek, “That’s a lot of them against one of you. What about this leader guy? Is there a way to knock him down a notch or two? Get him to convince the others to leave you alone? How old is this guy?”

kurt.

He’s not exactly surprised to hear Blaine’s been beat up. Kurt was tempted the smack the back of his head a few times- the guy was just a walking target. Still, he’s – silently – sympathetic.
Kurt leans his elbows on the counter and cradles the mug of tea in his hands.

“Too nice for your own good. Not that I’m complaining.” He sighs softly. “Just don’t get yourself killed trying to help someone out. For all you knew I could have been fucked up on something.” he shakes his head a little, unconsciously tightening his hold on the cup. To Blaine’s point of view it probably didn’t sound out of character for him.

“Thank you though.”

An awkward half-grin tugged the edge of Blaine’s mouth upwards as he leaned on the lip of the island across from Kurt. “You know–Kurt–if you’re not careful? I might think you actually care what happens to me if you feel you need to warn me that my aptitude for being a bleeding heart to someone in distress might end up with me getting killed.
“Sort of contrasts the,” his fingers wriggled from the edge of his cup towards the other boy, “bad ass without a care aesthetic you’re trying to pull off.”

“I get it though. But as far as one of us needing to worry about getting himself killed by getting in over his head? I don’t think it’s me.” Bright hazel eyes watched Kurt closely. Inside them was a knowing that came from someone who was good at observing people and seeing beyond what they project. Kurt was no exception. Honestly, he was above that. The longer Blaine looked at him–the more he wanted to see. And maybe did. Or was good at deluding himself that he had. Drawing in a breath, he straightened up and sat his mug down turning to fetch the plates of fruit and bagels he made.

“You’re welcome.” He hummed as he slid the plates between them. “It isn’t much but it’s something. If you’re going to be up for a while? You’re going to need it.”

kurt.

Kurt pads into the kitchen, arms wrapped around himself somewhat protectively.
The kitchen was just as nice as everything else, Kurt notes. Somehow, now that he’s settling, he feels less out of place and more unfamiliar with his surroundings. His gaze drifts towards Blaine when the other speaks.

“Thanks. Something to eat wouldn’t hurt.” His appetite isn’t really there but he figures that it’s better to try eating than avoid it until he feels better- who knows if that’ll be while he’s here or not for days.
“Better, I guess.” He says with a slow nod. “Head’s clearer at least..” He trails off, pursing his lips in a pause.

“Blaine? Why are you doing this? I’m pretty sure I’ve been mean way more than I’ve been nice, you know next to nothing about me and I just got my ass beat by guys who probably work for a drug dealer- whatever it is he actually does. You gave me clothes with your fancy school’s logos on it for fucks sake, you helping me doesn’t make any sense.” At least he’s honest, even if it does come with distress showing in his voice.

After thumbing the cabinets closed–Blaine turns around with a mug in each hand and his grip quickly tightens on the ceramic handles at the sight of a cleaned up Kurt standing in his kitchen. The boy was so pale and so–fragile–looking without all the muck and gross Blaine couldn’t get off of him with just some handwipes in the car. How could anyone do that to him?

“Good. I mean–good. I’m glad it’s clearer and you feel a little better,” he mumbles to fill the silence but there was more there waiting as Blaine sits the mugs on the island and tears his attention back down to putting some tea bags inside their cups.
The question catches him by surprise as he scoots Kurt’s tea towards him and the finger he motioned towards the sugar and honey sort of deflated down towards the others before his hand fell to the side.

Kurt was right. This was weird. Normal people didn’t do this stuff for strangers–did they? Not to this extent. “Well—,” he catches a sliver of his lip between his teeth. “I’ve been in your position. If someone didn’t help me? I’m not sure how I would have ended up. And I have a keen suspicion if I didn’t help you? Who else was going to? You’d have gone to them before I found you in an alley in the rain. So–that left me. Didn’t it? I’m not a person to be blind to someone hurting,” he looked down and shrugged, “That’s why.”

kurt.

Dressing room.. Kurt would scoff at that another day. Tonight though he follows and nods along. “I’m good. Thanks.”
When the door is closed Kurt glances around as he slowly makes his way to the bathroom. His shower doesn’t take long, but to him it feels like he’s been in there for an hour by the time he steps out. Everything still feels unreal in a way.

He dresses just as slowly. The mirror was too foggy to really get a look at his face in, but looking down at himself as he pulls up borrowed sweat pants seems to be enough of a wake up call. The discoloration on his stomach finally gets to him.
What has he gotten himself into?

The pants are a little short on Kurt, but everything fits just fine. He ruffles his hair with the towel to dry it a little more before he moves from where his feet have been firmly planted on the floor. He folds up his own clothes, the various pieces of silver he decorates himself with sitting atop the neat pile. Raking a hand through his hair, he supposed then is as good of a time as any to go back downstairs.

Blaine was busying himself with nervously putting together some tea and a couple of bagels were cut in half with some blueberry spread swiped over them.
By the time they got back to his house? It was too late for real food. But he didn’t want Kurt going to sleep hungry on top of being sore from..the mess that Blaine found him in.

He was certain Kurt shouldn’t go to sleep for a little while. What if he had a concussion? Or–should he have taken him to a hospital? Convinced him to call home so someone who might know better could help him? Kurt seemed too adamant against either one of those options. At least here? Kurt was safe.

Yeah. So. Most of the time Kurt spent in the shower getting clean and then dressed–Blaine spent it fretting if he was doing enough for him. The kitchen was dimly lit by a chandelier hanging over the small island in the middle. As Kurt came down the hall–the smell of cinnamon and berries filled the air. Blaine could hear him but was busy grabbing mugs from the cabinet. “I wasn’t sure if you were hungry but I made something quick to munch on. Feel better?”

kurt.

He snorts. Blaine was about as threatening as a puppy, and they already proved that Kurt didn’t stand a chance. That’s a cute idea. At least Blaine’s heart was in the right place, but he couldn’t honestly think that would work out well… “Sure, and then we can stitch each other’s wounds. Great bonding exercise..”
A sigh. “I know you mean well, Blaine, but there’s nothing we can do about this.” he says with a little shake of his head. He could go into hiding at night, stay in like a normal person. Not only boring but at this point it would be like backing down. And, even if he did, who’s to say that it would help? Stay in for a while, go out again and they try to prove a point by jumping him again when he goes out. Maybe they’ll get him on his way home, or to the store? Who knows. At this point he’s running out of places that feel safe alone- and he is, usually, alone. When he’s not he’s with the skanks, or at night he’s hopefully got someone’s tongue down his throat. Either way it doesn’t help when any of those people would turn tail and leave him there. In fairness, he’d probably do the same, but the point still stood.

Blaine frowns at the snort trying not to get offended that his offer drew that kind of a reaction. That was so not fair. Sure, Kurt was right but he would go down fighting for Kurt to be rid of these guys. No one deserved to go through life constantly looking over their shoulder and afraid. Because..like it or not? He knew Kurt was more than just tired of their antics. Accuse him of being scared? He’d never do that. But who wouldn’t be after ending up in an alleyway the way Blaine found him?
“Kurt,” he shook his head and scooted a bit closer but not close enough to be touching him much at all. But he wanted to get his point across and so he slid down against the pillows until they were eye level to one another. “There has to be something we can do because I can see what this is doing to you,” he whispered it softly and without accusation or even letting how deeply he was worried so. It was a concern that showed in his eyes and could be heard in his tone, yes. Restraint kept it from being so much that he’d make Kurt feel like he had to pull away because someone actually worried about him. Blaine didn’t want to lose his chance of being there for him and offering him that place he could feel safe when he needed it. “If you can’t avoid them and don’t think they’re going to get bored or back down, then.. Something’s gotta give. How many are there?”

definitely one of those families.

One of those families. Sounds like television got something right about the wealthy. Kurt nods in reply.
Following Blaine in, he only glances around briefly and tries not to trail behind. The place was nice is all that mattered and if he were less in his head he might be made uncomfortable. Might make an offhanded comment about the decorating too if he let himself. He would definitely worry more about dragging water in due to the rain.

It would probably be weirder to leave him in his cold wet clothes all night, he thinks. But Blaine got a smile out of him as he laughed at himself. “Not weird. Generous, actually. I could go for a shower.” He wonders absently if it’s a good idea though with how much he’s gotten lost in his head tonight. He’d rather feel clean and warm than mention it.

Kurt didn’t find the offer weird? That was a relief! One that had Blaine glancing over his shoulder at the other boy with his smile renewed and a sparkle back in his eyes. “Great! Just make yourself at home. There’s towels in the dressing room closet. I’ll leave some clothes on the bed.” The door to the last room at the end of the hall was already open and a dim amber light reflected across the hardwood floor.

“The bathroom’s just through the small dressing room over there,” he pointed to the right of his room to the dark wooden door was. “I’ll be out of your hair and downstairs whenever you’re done,” he smiled up at Kurt while digging through his dresser and finding a pair of Dalton sweatpants and a t-shirt with the same crest on the front. They were tossed on the bed and he was already on his way back out of the room before he paused at the door and turned back around. “Do you need anything else?”

kurt.

He doesn’t know how to address that yes he is aware they can’t get him here when he doesn’t want to snap at the one person trying to help, so he doesn’t. He opens his mouth to, but doesn’t. Instead he sighs, shakes his head and closes his eyes. “No, not like that. We go to the same shitty bars is all. Sometimes I get high with a girl who buys from one of them- please don’t pretend to be surprised, I’m a walking stereotype.” His tone is tired more so than bitter. It’s not that he had a problem with how he lived, how people looked at him; that image was carefully crafted by his own hands and he didn’t regret it. There were problems with it sometimes, but again, that was his choice too. It was as simple as that until this current mess started. Truly, Kurt was just tired. And, rather anxious if he were honest.

He tries to keep himself from frowning but can’t help it when Kurt calls himself a stereotype. Honestly–Kurt was right but there was more to him than met the eye. Okay. That was another stereotype, too. Blaine would never say the words out loud. At least not under these circumstances. Kurt knew the persona he projected. Lived carefully behind the fences and walls it built. Blaine only considered himself as being allowed to see through some of the cracks because of the nights he spent here and how they met. Who was he to call him out and tell him life would be easier if he kept away from these people? Kurt knew that but wasn’t ready to change. He might never be. Blaine just hoped that he could show him some peace and solitude and eventually Kurt might want that more than the exhaustion and strung out nights his current lifestyle was bringing. If not? He’d be there for him regardless because turning his back on him was impossible. So? If leaving the crowds he and his attackers circled one another in wasn’t going to happen? “Maybe we could confront them? Tell them to back off and go find something else to occupy their time with? I’d help you–you know? Two have a lot better of a chance to prove a point than one.”

kurt.

He breaths deep, sighing heavily with his exhale. “Yeah.” he shakes his head a little and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. He’s embarrassed, honestly, on top of coming down from the dream. He shouldn’t be having nightmares at all. It was ridiculous. Some men go off to war and don’t have PTSD but Kurt? He was jumped and his paranoia is invading his sleep. In his defense, he was being watched whenever he went out. It justified some of it but not all, he thinks. Ridiculous.

He props himself up with his hands behind himself and turns his gaze to the ceiling. “I’m so tired of this.” He whispers softly. “So goddamn tired… They follow me. When I go out at night. They’re part of the same bullshit crowd as me, and just stare for a while.” He drinks more lately so he can still enjoy himself.

Blaine pushes himself back so he’s sitting upright and using his headboard as something to lean against. Concern fills his gaze as he watches Kurt struggling so hard. His heart goes out to him and even though they’ve only really known each other for a short amount of time? What he has seen of Kurt and got to know about him? Made Blaine want to make everything okay for him though he had no idea how or where to even start. Opening up his house to him whenever he needed was at least something he could do. But he wanted to do more.

Especially seeing how exhausted Kurt was and how much this was eating at him. “Kurt? You know you’re safe here, right? I know it’s hard to let it go but you can do that while you’re here if you can. You deserve some rest. I get it if you can’t.” His concern turned into confusion when Kurt admitted his attackers were following him. “They are,” he asked lowly and frowned. “What do you mean they’re part of the same crowd as you? Were they once friends of yours?”

i got you. @porcelain-ashtray

He’s squirming- not violently, just a kick here and a twist of his torso there. It makes his discomfort obvious though and Blaine apparently woke. Or maybe he hadn’t slept much at all. It’s the third time Kurt’s stayed with Blaine since that first night in the rain. The nightmares aren’t constant and don’t elicit yelling or anything else that could alert his family, but they’re often and leave him exhausted. Finn is even noticing circles under Kurt’s eyes.

When it’s been long enough – a week or so is an accurate gage – of sleeping restlessly and feeling like he’s being watched when he leaves the house, of being stared at by anyone on the same side as his attackers when he’s out at night, Kurt goes to Blaine.

Someone otherwise uninvolved and yet to judge him was a comfort. So Kurt has been sleeping here once every week for the past three, always sure to give him warning in case of any relatives – something they hadn’t discussed but Kurt assumes is a good idea to be careful of, if nothing else based on his appearance in contrast to this neighborhood.

He wakes with a start, fists clenched and body tensing. Prepared to defend himself. There is no danger though, only Blaine in a room only dimly lit by a small lamp on the bedside table. Releasing the breath he’d been holding, Kurt lets his body go slack as he raise a hand to place on his forehead. “Sorry.”

Blaine spends his time in between hearing from Kurt switching from focused on school and the Warblers to wondering if the boy he found broken in the rain is okay. There’s texts that they share. Mainly Blaine sending him hellos and words of encouragement. Of making sure that he knows he has a place to go. He doesn’t want to smother him so he makes sure not to do it as often as he’d actually like.

Kurt’s been taking him up on the offer. Blaine can tell that he comes to him when things get too much to ignore. The state he arrives in is testament to that. God those circles under his eyes are always so dark but Blaine notices after a night or two of being here..they seem to fade a little bit.

That’s what he wants to do most. Make things okay–if not better–for Kurt.

So? When Kurt shows up–Blaine tries not to ask too many questions and let him get the rest he so obviously needs. When Kurt wants to talk–he’ll talk. If that doesn’t happen–they’ll talk about other things until Kurt is comfortable enough to confide in him. Or not. Either way–whatever Kurt needs, Blaine’s happy that Kurt knows he can find it here.

Tonight was no different. Blaine stayed up until he was sure that Kurt was sleeping hoping that he’d be able to stay that way the entire night. Less than an hour or so after he dozed off–he was startled awake with a kick to his shin. It wasn’t until the second that Blaine lightly touched Kurt’s shoulder. Hazel eyes went from sleepy to wide when he saw the pale boy jerk and then deflate. “It’s okay, Kurt,” he whispered calmly. “It was only a dream. You’re okay. See?”

kurt.

Of course. He didn’t really expect any different from this guy; private school in Westerville, of course his family was loaded. Kurt still felt both out of place and not. These kinds of neighborhoods, the elegant life were in his daydreams. He’s pretty sure now it was too far out of reach even if he does get to do something he genuinely liked after high school. He’ll be one of those broke artists or something akin to it, drawing up fancy designs and – provided that doesn’t tank – coming home to a dingy apartment with leaky pipes after a fashion show.

Kurt nods and follows Blaine out of the car and up to the door. Until moving he almost forgot how tired he and his body were. Delightful. “Anyone…Is there anyone else here?”

“No. My Dad is away on business and my mom is probably still at another retreat. Honestly, it gets a little too hard to keep track when she’s coming back or leaving again sometimes. They’re..well…them.” Heat burst over the bridge of his nose as the olive tones of his skin ran red at his answer. People who knew him rarely asked if his parents were there or not anymore. More often than not? The answer was no. They were going through a rough spot (he didn’t like to think very hard on the reasons why) and escape was better than actually talking to each other, Blaine figured. She’d be home in a few days if he remembered right. His Dad? A month in the Philippines was dwindling down to a week or so and –without a doubt– the house would feel quieter with three people there than it was with only him.

An insert of the key and a turn of the wrist later–Blaine opened the door to the dimly lit foyer. One sconce didn’t do much to chase away the darkness of the house. Leading Kurt inside, Blaine continued to bring the house to lift with light after light being switched on all the way to the stairs. “I’ve got some first aid things in my bathroom and you can take a shower if you want. That’s not weird to offer is it,” he asked with a scrunch of his nose as he started up the stairs. “I can find you clean clothes.” Laughing as his head sagged forward, he mumbled loud enough for Kurt to hear but it was a mumble nonetheless. “And that’s not even weirder at all.”