Warning: This chapter contains heavy triggers. Rated M for mentions of various types of harassment (violent, physical, emotional, and sexual)

The Soloist – Chapter XII

Billy Joel: "Vienna"

Just the night before, Blaine had been lying in that same spot, clutching a pillow to his chest, wishing more than anything in the world that it would turn into the person he now had cradled in his arms. And from the moment they laid down together until the minute the daylight crept through the wooden blinds and streamed in delicate patches onto the bed, the reality awed Blaine, moved him, and at times made him certain he was dreaming.

He hadn't slept particularly soundly – partly because he had quite a bit on his mind, and partly because yes, the only boy who had ever meant the world to him was burrowed in his warm embrace – but when the soft light touched his eyelids, he felt he had had just enough.

Blaine opened his eyes, and sure enough, there was Kurt, still so very close, and holding onto him even in sleep. They were a mess of arms and legs and stiff jeans and rumpled blankets, but somehow, Blaine knew that at that moment, there was nowhere he'd rather have been.

Without waking Kurt, Blaine extracted himself from the bed and replaced his body with a soft white pillow, one that Kurt immediately took hold of and embraced as though it were still Blaine, making Blaine smile and laugh quietly.

He quickly retrieved a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved sleep-shirt and escaped to the bathroom, where he sighed in relief after removing the shirt and jeans that had made his body feel uncomfortably restricted over the course of the night. He changed, brushed his teeth and quickly washed his face with lukewarm water, and stepped back into the bedroom.

The sight before him made him stop in the doorway, and ever so quietly, gasp.

Beneath the dull glow of the daylight that spread in soft lines across the bed, Kurt was just beginning to stir. Sprawled on his back, he began to stretch. Something in the way he moved had made Blaine stop – something about the way the light touched his white skin and his messy brown hair, something about how purposeful each motion was, how he groaned almost inaudibly at the extension of each arm, how his eyes were screwed shut in exertion but he somehow still looked so peaceful.

When he opened his sleepy blue eyes, Kurt glanced around slowly for a moment before finding Blaine in the doorway. For just an instant, Blaine wondered what he would do, how he would react. Would he remember going to sleep here? Would he remember asking to sleep here? Would he have changed his mind about trusting Blaine?

And then, Blaine looked at him. And he was smiling. A sleepy, semiconscious, adorable, true and honest smile.

"Hi," he said, his voice low and raspy from sleep, but lovely to Blaine nonetheless.

Blaine took a breath, then smiled, "Hi."

And Blaine wanted to hold him.

And he did. Almost as soon as they had exchanged good mornings, Blaine had hopped back onto the bed and opened his arms wide, making Kurt laugh, push himself up into a sitting position, and return the embrace. Quietly he thanked Blaine for letting him stay, and Blaine waved away the thank you, telling him, "Anytime… anytime."

After checking with Kurt, Blaine stretched freely and sighed with contentment when he realized that the morning was theirs – no work, no commitments, no chamber, at least until evening. It was only them.

Worry that Kurt might not want to stay quickly dissipated when Kurt yawned, stretched, rubbed his eyes, and slowly lowered himself back into the blankets, smiling knowingly up at Blaine.

"Yeah?" Blaine asked with a chuckle.

Kurt just nodded, then grasped at the air repetitively, signaling to Blaine to join him.

After insisting that if this was going to be the snuggling session Blaine hoped it would be, Blaine decided that Kurt was going to need comfortable clothing. He offered Kurt an old sleep shirt and soft pair of flannels (Wes's, of course. Blaine's would barely have made it to Kurt's ankles) and lastly, a toothbrush.

Kurt retreated to the bathroom and Blaine pushed pillows and blankets around the mattress, trying to make sense of the madness, until he finally created something of a nest out of the many linens. Deciding that yes, this would be quite comfortable, he climbed back onto the bed and sat with his legs folded, until Kurt stepped back into the room.

Blaine watched him move slowly from the doorway until he stopped at the edge of the bed, right in front of where Blaine sat. He was unsure why, but for some reason, his heart started to pick up speed as he sat there, looking up at Kurt, Kurt looking down at him with shining eyes, his skin looking even whiter now that he was clad in the navy blue fabric of Blaine's old, oversized t-shirt. But he couldn't look away, and neither, it seemed, could Kurt.

After what felt like a very, very long stretch of silently staring into each other's eyes, Kurt and Blaine began to move – Kurt, very slowly, extending his arms until his hands rested on Blaine's shoulders, and Blaine, just as slowly, raising his hands to take a gentle hold of Kurt's waist.

Blaine's heart hadn't slowed.

And it wasn't going to, not if Kurt kept looking at him like that – like he wanted to tell him something, something he was having trouble saying even after everything he had said the night before. Like Blaine meant something to Kurt, was valued beyond words' ability to describe. Like he was feeling something or thinking something that terrified him, and he wanted to share it – was on the verge of sharing it – but couldn't find the words to do it.

Blaine barely had time to come to a frightening moment of realization in his own mind before Kurt grasped his shoulders tight, leaned down and kissed him.

It was not hard, but it was powerful. There was no desperation, but there was desire. It did not feel sexual, but the urge to hold each other and to know each other by touch, it was there, and it had wrapped itself around their bodies, and was holding them together.

It wasn't until Kurt had pulled away – just the slightest bit – that Blaine realized he had closed his eyes, and that the only things he was notably conscious of were the warmth of Kurt's hips beneath his fingertips, the tickle of Kurt's breath against his lips, and cool pressure of Kurt's forehead resting against his own. He opened his eyes.

Kurt's brow was furrowed, but he didn't look upset, not at all. In a word, Blaine decided he looked breathless; just as Blaine was feeling.

Slowly Kurt brought one knee onto the bed. Blaine moved back to give him room, and he brought up his other knee, then adjusted so that he was sitting, legs folded beneath him, right in front of Blaine. He hadn't moved his hands from Blaine's shoulders, and he had barely let their foreheads separate.

Without knowing what he was going to say, Blaine suddenly murmured, "Kurt…"

But never finished, because again, Kurt's lips were pressing against his own. This time, it was less powerful, less wanting. It was soft. So soft that, in a way, it startled Blaine more than the first one.

Blaine found himself closing his eyes once again, and almost as if he had no control over them, he felt his hands moving slightly lower on Kurt's hips.

Quickly, he stopped them, but Kurt continued kissing him – still so lightly that their lips were barely brushing against each other.

Blaine unfolded his legs and straightened up a little, matching Kurt to height, bringing his hands back to Kurt's waist, and slowly shifting their bodies back to the top of the bed. Kurt followed, never once allowing the kissing to stop, and – as far as Blaine had noticed – never once opening his eyes. He lingered on this for a moment, and his heart suddenly felt heavy as it did the night before. It felt both honored and intimidated by the trust that Kurt had placed right into his very hands. Whether trusting Blaine with something as complex as the secret of his past or with something as simple as allowing Blaine to guide him to the top of the bed, he trusted him. Kurt trusted Blaine.

Blaine led Kurt down onto the pillows, settling their bodies snugly among the blankets, close together. Kurt leaned into Blaine, ran his hand from Blaine's stomach, over his heart, right to his neck. They kissed again. This time, if possible, the kiss was even lighter than the last.

Blaine felt Kurt pull away and settle down onto him, his head on Blaine's shoulder, his arm around his midriff.

So focused on Kurt's steady, rhythmic breathing and the way he could feel the expand-contract of Kurt's chest against his side, Blaine started a little when Kurt suddenly spoke.

"Blaine?" his voice was quiet.

"Yes, Kurt?"

"Can I… tell you something?"

There was a timid laugh at the end of the question, and Blaine's chest bubbled with silent laughter as well, and they both knew why. Kurt held onto Blaine a little tighter.

"Of course you can, Kurt. Anything, always."

"I…" he hesitated, then tightened his hold even more and whispered, "I want you so badly."

Blaine felt his chest tighten and was sure the gasp he felt was audible, but he didn't care. He knew this to be true. Kurt had already told him, just the night before. He told him he wanted it, it being whatever it was their feelings were driving them towards. But there was something about hearing this way, so outward and so honest, and there was something about hearing it again, but this time, after everything else he had heard last night, that frightened him and thrilled him and threatened to make him say everything and anything he had ever thought and felt and dreamed about Kurt aloud.

But he couldn't do that, so he tightened his hold on Kurt in turn, kissed the top of his head through his messy hair, and whispered, "I know. I know. But… but what you've done here, Kurt… what you're doing, the way you're doing it… it's proven to me that you're even smarter, even wiser, and have an even bigger heart than I could ever have imagined. And that's saying something," he added, genuinely.

He felt Kurt laughing against him, and then he felt him lifting his head to look into his eyes. He was smiling. His eyes looked the tiniest bit watery, but he was smiling when he chuckled, "Well, ditto."

Blaine couldn't help it – he laughed, loud and silly and honest, just the way he had at the obnoxious puns Kurt had spouted throughout their first date to the galleries, just like he had when he realized Kurt was actually dragging him into that ridiculous French film…

Kurt wiped an eye with the back of his hand, then swatted Blaine playfully on the chest before biting his lip and grinning ear to ear.

It was odd, at first, lying there with Kurt without a care in the world. For a while, it felt as though the previous night had not even happened. But among every smile, every affectionate stare, ever soft touch and every kiss, Blaine's mind brimmed with questions.

After a long silence during which Blaine lay sprawled on his back, hands resting palms-up on either side of his head, while Kurt sat with his legs in a pretzel on Blaine's right, gently dragging his fingers up and down Blaine's side, Kurt seemed to have read Blaine's mind when he suddenly said, "You can ask me, you know."

"W... What?"

"You can ask me, if there are things you want to know. There's a lot I haven't told you."

Blaine nodded, then couldn't help himself from asking, "Do I really have that bad of a poker face?"

Kurt smiled. "Disgraceful."

Blaine massaged the back of his neck and looked up at Kurt, smiling, but hesitant.

"Really, Blaine. It's okay."

"I guess… I guess I'm wondering who else knows," he said, and Kurt closed his eyes and nodded.

"Well, I consider myself lucky in a way not a lot of, of victims of this sort of thing aren't; the five of them were caught. Not in the act, but… but it didn't take long for someone to find me. When they did, the area was searched, and they had barely gotten off the school grounds."

Kurt's gaze had darkened a bit, but he was worlds more composed than the night before. Blaine watched him and waited, silently, for him to continue.

"Anyway… it's all a little blurry to me. Kind of like, like trying to remember a nightmare but… I know that I had a driver's license, and I guess that's how they tracked down my dad, because… because I know he was there when they took me away."

"Do you remember… seeing him? Talking to him?"

"I remember, um…" he paused a moment, examining his hands as he wrung them in his lap. "I remember seeing him, yes… but I couldn't talk. I mean, I guess I could have, but… but I couldn't."

Blaine nodded, understanding.

"Finn and my stepmom had been home already, but obviously, this wasn't something he would or, or could keep from them. For a long time, though, it was just my dad there with me, at the hospital. I don't think he ever left my side… but… but my family, my cousins and everyone, most of them know," he said, looking Blaine in the eye. "While I was technically a minor and my name was never printed or, or anything, you have to remember that all of those guys were apprehended in one way or another, and I was in the hospital and… and you know how these things work."

"What about the other guys you're close with, the ones who're close with Finn?"

Blaine caught a small smile on Kurt's lips before he said, "Yeah, they... they've been good friends with Finn for a long time. Noah, Sam, and a few others... I've been close to them to, and during my... 'recovery period'... it was hard to lie to them. In a way, I feel like they're all my brothers. They've all helped me in some way... I just couldn't... I couldn't not tell them. They're like family... you know?"

Again, Blaine nodded. He hesitated, but eventually asked, "How long were you in the hospital?"

"Not too long," Kurt said quickly, shaking his head. "A lot of testing, a lot of precautionary things but, but I got there so soon and, and was taken care of so quickly, I never even contracted anything. Another way I consider myself one of the lucky ones," he laughed under his breath, sadly. Blaine closed his eyes for a moment.

As Kurt opened up, and Blaine felt more and more trusted, he tried to be less hesitant in asking questions. It was hard, but he tried. Quietly he asked, "Kurt, did… did you have any kind of… did you receive anything like…"

"Counseling?" Kurt asked. But he didn't look upset. Just thoughtful.

"Yes," Blaine said. "Anything like that?"

Kurt sighed heavily. "Two or three sessions, at the most. As you, you know, already know, we didn't and don't have a lot of money, and insurance only helps you out for a while. To be honest, though… I didn't want help. I mean, I wanted to forget, don't get me wrong… but I didn't like the help. To me it just felt like… like they were making me remember. I relived it every time I spoke about it and… and it felt like things were just getting worse. I thought that if I just tried to move on, tried to forget on my own, then… then I would be okay."

"But… but you weren't," Blaine whispered.

Kurt stared into his eyes for a long moment, before repeating, "But I wasn't." His eyes remained fixed on Blaine's. "But I'm not."

Blaine almost opened his mouth to speak, but Kurt interrupted him, saying quietly, "So I guess that brings us to…"

Together, he and Blaine finished.

"Us."