CHAPTER 17

BLAINE POV

18 MONTHS LATER

"Seriously, Puckerman? You call that a cannonball? Puh-leeze!" I watched Lauren standing by the edge of the pool, her hands on her hips, shaking her head back and forth sadly. "Stand back everyone."

I took 12 steps back. I knew the splash would be huge. Lauren took a running start and launched herself into the water. Everyone and everything got slightly soaked. I laughed as Puck grinned and nodded at her. "Nice one, babe."

This had been a good idea. Kurt had suggested we have a pool party – New Directions-Warbler Style. All his glee club friends and mine, hanging out, swimming, eating pizza. It was great. Finally, the pool was getting some use.

My eyes scanned the room, looking for him. I stopped at Mercedes and Wes, snuggled up together, chatting. Kurt and I had played matchmaker a few months ago and it seemed to work. I continued scanning the room until I found him. He was engaged in a very enthusiastic conversation with Tina. I walked over. He instantly reached out and laced his fingers with mine. I whispered to him, "Let's go outside for a while." He excused himself and we walked out the huge french doors, across the patio and into the grass, towards our favorite tree.

I sat down on the ground, my back against the tree. Kurt laid down on his back, his head in my lap. He rested his hands on his thighs. The bracelet I had given him, sparkled in the sun.

We sat in silence. Finally, Kurt spoke.

"A year and a half."

He didn't have to say anything else. I knew what he was referring to.

In the beginning, the Lima District Attorney wanted to throw the book at us. A murder charge for Kurt and accessory for me. Two gay boys killing a football star in the middle of the woods. On a school day, no less. I always noticed how he would sneer when he said, "gay boys." He was also hung up on the fact that I was an Anderson. He did not want to appear as if he were under the influence of my family's money and connections. He was hell bent on moving forward with the case until I produced the disc. I had fought viciously with our attorney about the disc. I wanted the DA to view it but, I wouldn't allow our attorney to view it first. I wanted as few people as possible to know what was on that disc. I had to protect Kurt. He finally agreed to only view it with the DA, in the DA's office. Kurt and I sat with our parents in the waiting room. David Karofsky's parents were waiting in the hall.

They were back in 3 minutes.

The ashen face DA announced there would be no charges. No trial. We were free to go.

As we walked out of the waiting room, Kurt suddenly seized my arm in an almost death grip.

As I looked at Karofsky's father, I could see why. He was a slightly taller, leaner version of his son. He stood up as we walked out. He looked menacing, confused and annoyed as he saw the boys accused of his son's murder, walking out, no handcuffs. The DA invited Karofsky's parents into his office and in that moment, I actually felt sorry for him. He would have the unpleasant job of telling them that, not only would no one serve time for their son's death, their son was not the boy they thought he was. Instead, he was a sick, sadistic, abusive young man, who had gleefully raped and inflicted mental torture on another. And, he was most likely gay. I felt sorry for Karofsky's parents. It would be a lot to process.

I spent almost two months in the hospital. The doctors couldn't believe Karofsky had inflicted so much damage with just his fists. They kept insisting a baseball bat had to have been involved. My jaw, along with most of my facial bones were broken. I had a collapsed lung. My internal organs were bruised. Who knew you could bruise an organ? My ribs were cracked. The list went on and on. A few more blows and I would have died. It was a miracle I survived.

Once I was released from the hospital, Kurt came to stay with me in Westerville. Burt didn't bat an eye and my parents didn't care. Kurt took over as charge nurse, managing my medications, my breathing therapies, everything. We both received medical releases from school, allowing us to receive and complete all of our lessons and assignments via email. No one knew the truth behind our absence except Mercedes and eventually, Wes. Our names were never listed publicly in connection with David Karofsky's death. It was one of the of the few times I was thankful for my family's money and influence.

Despite everyone's insistence, including mine, Kurt absolutely refused to see a therapist or psychologist to discuss what he had endured. He and Carol went ten rounds over this. We all tried to convince him but he flat out refused. He told me that the idea of sitting in a room, describing what he had experienced made him vomit. He couldn't share that with anyone. No one really knew what he had fully gone through except for me.

So, we talked. I certainly wasn't a trained therapist but, I was willing to do my best. As I lay in bed recovering, Kurt would sit next to me and talk. And talk, and talk and talk. He would cry, throw things, and basically express every single emotion he had. He would then fall asleep next to me, exhausted.

One cold, winter day, we took the disc out to the far, back woods section of my parent's property. I gave Kurt a huge hammer and he smashed it until nothing was left but teeny, tiny slivers of plastic. He ground the pieces into the dirt.

Our senior year was hard. Kurt had to move back to Lima. Commuting from Westerville to McKinley simply made no sense plus, Burt missed his son. Burt had been struggling with his own demons. Feelings of guilt and failure as a father. I encouraged Kurt to use this time to comfort his dad and let him know it wasn't his fault.

The separation was hard. I had grown used to falling asleep with Kurt next to me. I found sleeping without him almost impossible. I missed him so much. Our weekends were full with studying, SAT prep and college applications, plus, we tried to make time for our friends. After all, our high school days were coming to an end. We would all be leaving soon for whatever was next.

KURT POV

Blaine always insists that I saved his life. He could not have be more wrong. He saved mine. During the entire Karofsky ordeal, the only thing that kept me from not killing myself was Blaine. The fact that he never stopped texting me, never stopped asking me what was wrong, never stopped spending time with me. That is what kept me alive. Knowing that he loved me and hoping, deep down that Karofsky was wrong. That Blaine would still love me, even if he eventually found out what was going on. That is what kept me going.

Things with my dad are tough. I know he blames himself for what happened. I've tried really hard to make him understand that this was not his fault. I don't blame him. He couldn't have known and he couldn't have stopped it from happening. No one could have. Karofsky may have been sick but, he was also smart. He had planned and played his game very well, up until the very end. I wish I could say I was sorry he was dead but, I can't. I'll take having Blaine alive over him every time.

So, now I am trying to move forward. Blaine and I are going to NYU in the fall. Together. Me for fashion design, Blaine for drama and musical theater. Despite my dad's objections, the Andersons are footing most of the bill. It's nice to have a rich boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

Blaine made it very clear that he does not expect anything from me in the area of intimacy. He is willing to wait as long as it takes for me to be ready. I love him for this but, it makes me sad that he has to sacrifice due to no fault of his own. I love being with him, cuddling with him, sleeping wrapped in his arms, and his kisses are the sweetest and most passionate. But, I know he wants more. Needs more. He doesn't say it. He doesn't have to. When he kisses me, I feel the pent up passion and desire. I also feel how hard he gets against my leg. I know he wants more but he always pulls away from me. It breaks my heart. So, I am hoping we can move in baby steps.

The first step came sooner than I expected.

One night, I was sitting on the edge of the bed and Blaine was standing in front of me. He got down on his knees, gently pulled me to him and kissed me. It was a long, passionate, desire filled kiss. He moved to my neck and whispered, "Kurt, you are so beautiful. You make me so hot. I want you so much." I breathed deeply and concentrated on his mouth, moving down my chest. His hands were resting on my hips, his thumbs rubbing along my waist. He looked up at me. His eyes were burning with a loving, lustful desire. "Kurt...let me," his eyes fluttered down to my very obvious erection and back to my eyes. "I promise, you don't have to do anything to me. Just let me... love you." He suddenly sat back, a pained expression on his face. He moved his hands to his sides. "I'm sorry." He looked so ashamed. It broke my heart that he felt the need to apologize for something that would be perfectly normal if he were with any other person. I wanted to cry.

I took his face in my hands and kissed him. "Okay." He looked at me. "Are you sure? I promised I wouldn't push and I don't wanna push. Ever. I-I shouldn't have said anything. I'm so sorry, Kurt." He was babbling. I placed my finger to his lips. "Shh. Blaine. Stop. You didn't do anything wrong." I started kissing him. Hot, passionate kisses. "I love you Blaine. I trust you." This seemed to work for he started kissing me again and we were back where we had began, with him leaving a trail of hot kisses down my neck and my chest. As he moved lower, the pace of my breathing increased. I lifted myself off the bed slightly so he could pull my shorts down. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate my thoughts. This was Blaine. My Blaine who loved me and almost got himself killed for me. He was kissing the inside of my thighs and rubbing my lower back. He looked up at me, for reassurance. I nodded. He bent down and slowly licked the base all the way to the top of the head. I gasped.

Wow.

He did this a few more times before finally taking me completely into his mouth.

Oh. My.

He took my hands and placed them on his head. I gently intertwined my fingers into his hair. He moved his mouth up and down, gently. My head was swirling. I closed my eyes and laid back on the bed. He must have taken this as a good sign because he increased his pace. I started moaning. The sensation he was causing with his mouth was incredible. I lay there, riding wave after wave of the sexual tide he was causing inside me. And then suddenly, my entire body felt electric. My chest tightened and I started breathing faster. "Blaine...oh, Blaine, Blaine, BLAINE!"

Oh. Wow.

Wow Wow. Wow.

Blaine sucked me clean.

Oh, my.

I lay there. Eyes closed. My body had never felt so peaceful.

Blaine laid down beside me.

"Kurt?" I could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

"Mm hmm?"

"Um...are you okay?" I turned to him and smiled.

"Are you kidding? I'm amazing. And, so are you."

THE END

Author's Notes

So, I hope all the Dave lovers out there are not mad about his death. I just had to let Kurt get some justice for all he suffered.

This is my very first story and my very first fan fiction so, if you made it this far, THANK YOU and please, take the time to review. Let me know if I should just stop now or continue putting my sadistic thoughts on paper. I have another Klaine story brewing in my head but, in this one, Blaine is a real ass. Stay tuned. Thanks for reading!