The Kiss Redux

Spoilers: The contents of Never Been Kissed, season 2.

Author's Note: I've never ethically against a ship before, but I find myself strongly against Kurt/Karofsky. I don't believe there is anything psychologically healthy about wanting to date someone who has physically, emotionally and sexually assaulted you, so I don't understand the bevy of fics that have come out in support of that. I don't believe that's 'chemistry' or 'forgiveness' or 'the power of love.' I think that's the power of the abuser in action, the power of the abuser to subjugate his (or her) victim, to convince the victim that the act 'wasn't that bad,' that it 'didn't happen,' that 'he wanted it,' to hide behind cowardice and malice and power games.

So you'll have to forgive me for going the route of Kurt/Blaine, which I think could be one of the healthiest things that Kurt has had in his life for some time.

He doesn't want to annoy Blaine, but the truth is he can't stop thinking about his 'first kiss.' At first he could almost forget about it, but after Karofsky's continued intimidations, after the fear that he made bubble up inside of Kurt almost every minute of every hour at school, after school even, it started to all jumble together into a big mess of images in his head that he couldn't stop. They come when he least expects them, and they leave him breathless with fear. He is becoming paranoid. He can't stand the person he's becoming. He can't stand that he's giving Karofsky this much power.

Courage, Blaine said, but courage takes energy, and fear eats it all up, day after day after day.

But he doesn't want to bring it up again because he feels incredibly fortunate. His father is healthy and getting better every day, better than he even was before the coronary incident. Blaine is sweet and attentive, confident without arrogance, and of course gorgeous.

What Kurt has learnt the hard way, is that love doesn't conquer terror. That it doesn't wriggle its way underneath fear. That, when he wakes up in cold-sweats from nightmares at night, it doesn't send soothing fingers into his reality. Love is wonderful, it deserves the songs everyone writes about it, but against the weight of visions of terror, the constant reminders of the shock of hard metal slamming into his front or back, the bruises, it takes an awkward step back.

He thinks that maybe there aren't as many good songs about terror as there are about love in its many permutations, because that's just it, it's too horrible to speak about.

The level of authenticity he has in his new and tentative relationship with Blaine is incredible, he can't believe his good luck. He knows enough about the world to know that there aren't many people you can be that honest with. Not even Mercedes. Certainly not his father. He also knows that despite his uncertainties about bringing stuff up that might annoying him, Blaine hasn't really gotten annoyed with him yet. Well, maybe a little after that first time they sang songs together and Blaine realised that Kurt had a higher range than him, but even that wasn't genuine annoyance.

They're in Blaine's room, because his parents are awesome, and open-minded, and also never home because they work long hours and just don't care who Blaine has over because his grades are so fantastic. That originally made Kurt think of the other boys Blaine may have invited over before. Where Blaine learnt that his parents would be fine with inviting a beau over, having him down in his room.

He tried to imagine the look on his Dad's face if he did the same thing. It wasn't so much that his Dad ever looked disgusted with him – he didn't – but there was sometimes a sort of confusion there. A sort of, 'I don't get it,' in his expression. An 'I'm still catching up to the fact that my son is gay and he will be for the rest of his life.' Kurt didn't get angry about it, so much as sad. Sad that he lived in a world where his Dad had to play catch up. Heteronormativity fail. He loved those words. Blaine said it sometimes, and Kurt started applying it in his own life. McKinley High was heteronormativity fail all over.

Blaine's room was all charcoal and cream with a few dark mauve accents. Incredibly tasteful, not remotely flamboyant (not by Kurt's standards, anyway), and sort of enveloping in its darkness, its liberal use of heavy fabric. It was a haven. For a start, he never had to worry about Finn being there. Now that he was over his Parent Trap scheme to get he and Finn together, he resented having to share his sacred space with a less than hygienic jock.

They hadn't progressed to sitting on the bed together, Kurt being shy and Blaine being too decorous for that. So they sat on the floor amongst a small army of throw cushions and went through magazines together, looked at each other's homework, chatted about things Kurt never imagined being able to chat to anyone about.

'I can't stop thinking about it.' He says, apropos of nothing.

Blaine looks up, clearly doesn't know what Kurt means, but smoothly says;

'I know, it really is just that awesome that Betty White is getting that much screen time.'

Kurt chuckles, smiles, it eases over the fear and the awkwardness that starts to move through his limbs.

'Well, that too. It's just, Karofsky, the kiss...I can't stop thinking about it. I know I shouldn't,' he adds, hastily, 'but he just creeps me out so much, it's not even normal fear anymore. There's this whole other level of...'

'There's an uck factor.'

'I feel the way his fingers splayed around the sides of my head, and how...rough it was. I mean, it was over quickly, but I cut the inside of my lip on my own tooth. I always used to watch those sorts of passionate kisses on oldschool movies and I thought they'd be wild and romantic, and instead it was just...' He trailed off. It was painful. It was awful.

'Just what?' Kurt was grateful that Blaine wasn't making fun of him, because it was hard enough to talk about anyway. He fingered some embroidery on the corner of a cushion and thought about all the words he'd used to describe it in his head.

'Crass. Uncouth. Gauche. A violation. Unwanted.'

'It was sexual assault, Kurt.' Blaine said, bluntly. Kurt looked up at him, in shock. All this time he'd been thinking of it as just a really bad kiss, and now Blaine had gone and introduced those terribly formal words into it. Blaine just looked at him sadly. 'You didn't ask for it, you didn't want it, it came from someone who had been terrorising you, it was completely non-consensual. Your first kiss was an act of abuse, it was the desperate act of a coward who has never shown a single shred of the bravery that you have. That we have.' He added, speculatively.

'I...haven't ever thought about it that way.'

'Me either,' Blaine admitted, 'but you talking about it like that, describing it, and it just all clicked to place in my head. That's the kind of stuff we learn about in class, the kind of thing that is heinous and tragic; it's certainly the kind of thing that one of my other friends has gone through.'

'Very comforting.' Kurt muttered, hugging the cushion to his chest.

'I'm sorry.' Blaine said, on a crooked half smile.

'So my first kiss was sexual assault,' Kurt said, reframing it in his head, 'no wonder I've been having so many nightmares about it. And everything else. A teen's first kiss is supposed to be something else entirely, isn't it? At worst, maybe terribly awkward.'

'Well,' Blaine said slowly, thinking something through, 'how about we do a redux. I mean, I've been wanting to kiss you for some time anyway.'

'You have?' Kurt said, feeling shy and curious and tense and safe all at the same time.

Blaine scooted closer.

'Come on, Kurt, you're adorable. But first things first, let's make it as stupidly obvious as possible, so there's no doubt that we're doing something completely different here; do you want us to kiss?'

No, 'do you want me to kiss you,' already there was a mutuality in Blaine's words that trailed warmth through Kurt's body. There was an 'us' implied, a 'we,' a sharing of consent. Kurt nodded once.

'Yes.' He added, breathless.

'You can stop me at any time,' Blaine said, coming even closer, smelling of cedars and rain on a stormy day.

Kurt laughed. As if he'd stop him.

Kurt leaned forwards, kept his eyes open, stared at Blaine's face as it moved closer, as his fingers came up and rested lightly on Kurt's shoulder. He felt tiny pinpricks of fear but it had nothing to do with earlier experiences and everything to do with the fact that this was Blaine, and Blaine was about to kiss him, and the guy was freaking amazing.

Kurt's eyes closed a second before Blaine touched his lips to his, and he found himself immersed in sensation. Fingerpads pressing into his shoulder and then moving up and resting against his collarbone. And then lips brushing chastely against his, once, and then twice, so that Kurt's mouth couldn't help but fall open a little bit. He leaned forward more, his own hand came up and rested on Blaine's sweater, fingers curling into the anchoring texture.

'More?' Blaine said, his voice huskier, face so close to his that he could feel Blaine's breath blowing over his mouth, minty and warm.

'Please.' Kurt said, not caring how stupid he sounded. But maybe he didn't sound that stupid, because Blaine closed the tiny distance between them and tasted Kurt's lips with his tongue, gently, before sealing his lips over Kurt's. A soft sound from Kurt's throat came up between then, trapped between them both, and then he opened his mouth more. His own tongue came up shyly and traced along the full line of Blaine's bottom lip, and Blaine shuddered against him.

Kurt, enthused at this reaction, pulled Blaine closer with one hand and angled his mouth instinctively. He felt shivery and warm at the same time, and Blaine's mouth tasted like toothpaste and something else that Kurt imagined he might always be able to taste when kissing him from now on, something unmistakeably Blaine. Their sides were touching, and Blaine's fingers against his collarbone had turned into a hand caressing the side of his neck, which felt impossibly good. Kurt leaned into it like a cat, felt Blaine's tongue slick alongside his, and he moaned. The sound hummed between them, and Blaine echoed it with a softer grunt of his own.

He could feel himself get even more turned on, harder in the confines of his already very tight jeans, and he made a noise of frustration and then ducked his face to one side and took a deep breath. Blaine seemed to be doing the same thing, and Kurt felt pleased that it wasn't as one-sided as he had worried his crush originally was.

'That bodes well.' Blaine said, laughing in a kind of pleased surprise next to him.

'Wow.' Kurt managed. 'That was, wow.'

'Total turn on.' Blaine said.

'That too.' Kurt said, shifting, placing a cushion strategically over his jeans. Blaine noticed, chuckled, didn't say anything, didn't bother to hide his own response to the kiss. Kurt took a deep breath, sighed it out, and then ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't believe how good that was. He had imagined a great deal, but he'd never imagined how electric it'd feel. Maybe that was the mythical chemistry everyone was talking about.

'You okay?' Blaine asked, solicitously.

'You're kidding me, right?' Kurt said, 'that was how it should've been. Hell, that's how it should be for everyone.'

'I'm sorry about Karofsky.'

'Me too.' Kurt said, knowing that his problems weren't over, knowing that one amazing, mind-blowing kiss didn't solve anything. But Kurt wasn't looking to Blaine to fix his problems for him, just for the friendship and companionship they'd shared so far. Maybe he was looking for another kiss.

'Can we do that again?' Kurt said.

They shared a grin before leaning towards each other, chemistry and more shooting up sparks of light and heat between them.

Fin