Etched Into My Skin - chapter 27

[anxioussquirrel]

CHAPTER 27

Kurt was sitting at his vanity, completing his evening routine and thinking about the full, amazing day he’d had.

Playing house with Blaine in their “Swiss chalet” - dancing and singing and looking at each other with open affection - had left him warm and happy, and absolutely sure that this was what their future would look like, a few years from now. Singing at the homeless shelter afterwards, getting to see the way music just lit people up, added that special something to the evening, no matter the circumstances. And there was that one boy there, maybe twelve, who’d looked at their joined hands with the kind of awe and hope that tugged at Kurt’s heartstrings.

He smiled, unbuttoning his shirt to change into his pajamas. It was almost Christmas and after today, he really felt the spirit of it.

Almost Christmas… Kurt’s hand froze, fingers sliding to his left collarbone, pushing the fabric aside. Was it…? He did a quick calculation and grabbed for his phone.

“Happy anniversary!” he said as soon as Blaine picked up. “I can’t believe I forgot.”

“Huh? Our anniversary isn’t until March, Kurt.”

Kurt grinned. “Happy mark anniversary!”

He could hear Blaine gasp on the other end. “Oh. Ooh! Wait, mine didn’t appear until two days after Christmas. So this is when yours-”

“To the day,” Kurt said. “Well, to the day since I saw the beginning of it. The whole name came up overnight.”

“Wow, a year already,” Blaine mused, his voiced laced with a smile. “And so much has changed since then. How do we celebrate?”

Kurt was already planning away. “How about a day in Columbus, right after Christmas? I could take you skating, but only if you promise not to laugh at me if I suck, I haven’t skated in years. And then dinner somewhere that isn’t Breadstix?”

“Sounds great.”

It was great. They had late lunch at a place they’d chosen on a whim and enjoyed immensely, and then headed to the ice rink where Blaine proceeded to glide effortlessly around, catching Kurt before he managed to fall more time that Kurt cared to count, and not laughing at him at all. They did some window shopping - and okay, a little bit of actual shopping, too, because who can resist a good sale? They ate romantic dinner at a restaurant neither of them could really afford, but the credit card Blaine’s mom had slipped him allowed.

The city sparkled with fresh snow and Christmas lights as they walked afterwards, hand in gloved hand, thrilled with that little bit of freedom. If Kurt didn’t think too much, he could almost imagine that the future was now, that they were out of Lima for good, dreaming big and building their lives together in a place where they could be themselves. The fact that he had to say goodnight to Blaine at his parents’ doorstep a few hours later and head home alone burst that illusion pretty effectively though.

Still, it was wonderful. Being with Blaine, having him as a soulmate, days like this… Kurt felt like he almost wouldn’t mind if he didn’t get into NYADA next year, just so that he could keep this easy happiness.

Almost.

New Year’s was a New-Directions-only affair this year, filled with too much cheap champagne and the silliest choices of karaoke songs, and the unspoken knowledge that it was the last one to be all together like this. Next year, half of them may not even be in Lima, and even though no one said it out loud, the couples among them - three of them marked as soulmates by now - clung a little tighter, kissed a little more desperately.

This coming year would change everything.

But for now, they still had one another, and the rest of the school year, and they intended to make the best of it. They started the new year with new energy, determined to take Regionals by storm and take their best shot at the National trophy. After a rather terrible beginning of the school year, things were finally looking up.

Even Sebastian stopped bothering them. The picture of his mark and his claim that he was Blaine’s soulmate were still on Facebook, annoying as ever, but neither Kurt nor Blaine had seen or heard from him since Sectionals. With every passing day, Blaine was calmer and more relaxed, until the whole thing seemed like a bad dream, ready to be forgotten.

Not for long.

They were sitting in the Lima Bean with Santana, Artie and Puck, discussing their setlist for Regionals - they’d decided to continue their lucky Jackson streak since it had brought them such success at Sectionals - when a familiar face with a familiar sleazy smile hovered over their table.

“That may not be the best idea,” Sebastian said. “Hey Blaine. Hello everyone else.”

Kurt nearly choked on his coffee. “Does he live here or something?” he asked no one in particular. “Seriously, you’re always here.”

But Artie already took the bait. “Why don’t you think it’s a good idea?”

“Because we’re doing MJ for Regionals. You see, the Warblers drew first position, so as soon as I heard what your plan was, I changed our setlist accordingly.”

“I’m sorry, how did you hear?” Santana asked, incredulous.

“Read your conversation on Blaine’s wall on Facebook, of course. A lot of the Warblers are still friends with Blaine, myself included.” He paused for effect while Santana and Puck glared at Blaine, then added, “Well, I am more than that, even though Blaine still refuses to acknowledge it.” He stroked his marked hand and Blaine, already looking chastised under his friends’ scowls, curled tighter on himself and folded his arms over his chest.

Sebastian grinned and looked around at all of them. “Here’s what you guys should know. I am captain of the Warblers now, and I’m tired of playing nice.”

The underground parking lot was dark and empty, just as Puck said it would be. Kurt had had his doubts about this whole “taking it to the streets” thing, but he had to admit their little group looked pretty badass, dressed in black and with an attitude to boot. The Warblers, with their private school boy attire and private school boy mindset, had no chance to win this Jackson-off.

He saw Sebastian’s sudden movement and a glimpse of red a split second before he was roughly pushed aside.

Then the world exploded in pain.

It only took Kurt a few confused seconds to realize that he wasn’t hurt. The pain was weird, not localized anywhere, just sweeping through his head in an already fading wave, and the scream ringing in his ears wasn’t his, either. He was down on his knees on the dirty concrete, reaching for Blaine’s curled form even before he managed to disentangle their feelings.

The last thing he saw before the rest of their friends reacted and spun into action around them was Sebastian’s satisfied smirk as he strode away behind the rest of the Warblers.

It hurt.

Granted, he wasn’t in agony like Blaine, but the persistent ache never left Kurt’s head as they drove to the hospital and waited for a doctor. There was no way to shield himself from it, and the fact that Blaine was absolutely freaking out with pain and terror was even worse, sending ripples of empathy through Kurt’s mind. Most of all, though, it hurt to see his boyfriend suffer and not be able to do anything to help. Kurt tried sharing calming thoughts, but Blaine seemed beyond that - even with all the focus Kurt could manage, his signals did nothing to affect Blaine. By the time the doctor finally came - barely fifteen minutes after the slushie, but it felt like hours had passed - Kurt was nearly in tears.

“Please help him,” he pleaded, as the kind-looking doctor entered the examination room. “He’s panicking, and the pain is getting worse by the minute. Please do something.”

She glanced at him curiously, then nodded. “We’ll take good care of him, I promise, but you have to let us do our job. Wait outside and call your friend’s parents while I examine him,” she said firmly.

“My boyfriend’s,” Kurt corrected automatically. Thankfully, she didn’t frown. “Yes, of course. Just-”

“He’ll be fine.”

Even out in the waiting room, Kurt knew exactly when they gave Blaine something - the ache in his head subsided into nothing within minutes and soon a feeling of calm followed, leaving only his own anxious thoughts to deal with as he waited with Finn and Santana for Blaine’s mom to arrive.

Kurt had known already that Blaine was an adorable, cuddly drunk, but Blaine on painkillers turned out to be a whole new experience.

“Kurt Hummel, NYADA finalist!” He exclaimed as soon as Kurt entered his bedroom two days after the slushie incident. “I told you you would get in.”

Kurt grinned and leaned in for a quick kiss. So his dad had called Blaine already with the news.

“I’m not in yet, it’s only the first step,” Kurt reminded him, but it was perfunctory at best. He was still buzzing with excitement himself.

“Oh shush. You’re a fiiiiiinalist,” Blaine trilled in a singsong voice, his smile so wide it was almost manic. He looked loose and relaxed on the bed, in a way Kurt already knew meant he’d taken his pain meds not long ago. “I say we celebrate. No champagne, but I have sparkling cider,” Blaine said and reached for the bottle on his nightstand, missing by a mile. “Oops. Perspective is hard.” He giggled.

Kurt sat down on the edge of the bed and took the bottle to fill the two champagne flutes. He passed one to Blaine.

“To NYADA then?” He smiled, raising the other one.

Blaine shook his head. “To my future husband who is about to take New York by storm.”

Kurt managed to choke on air. “What?” he asked once he could breathe again.

Blaine just shrugged his shoulders. “What? It’s only a matter of time. Now, let me see the letter? Please?”

Kurt didn’t point out that reading with the eyepatch made Blaine’s head hurt - he was still too busy regaining his balance. Instead, he pulled the envelope from his bag and passed it to Blaine, who squinted at the official note.

“I told you that you could do it.” He grinned, returning it to Kurt. “Yaaaaaay!”

Kurt laughed. Blaine was adorable.

“And you know what?” Blaine added in what he probably imagined was a conspiratorial tone. “My mom’s not home.”

Kurt stifled a laugh. “I know, silly, that’s why I’m staying with you for the next five hours, remember?”

“We can have sex,” Blaine said in a stage whisper. He reached for Kurt’s hand, managing to grab it on the second try.

Kurt squeezed in response, but shook his head. “Nuh-uh. Not when you’re loopy like this.”

“Am not!” Blaine exclaimed, indignant.

“Right. I know how the meds affect you, sweetie. We can have sex when you’re not all drugged up.”

“But Kuuurt,” Blaine whined. “I want it now.” To prove his point, Blaine tugged Kurt’s hand into his lap where a definite bulge was clearly noticeable even through his blanket.

Kurt gasped, but withdrew his hand. “Not like this, honey. How about I read to you? I brought some magazines. Or we could cuddle, how about that?”
Blaine pouted. “Fine, if you don’t want to help me, I’ll have to help myself.” He pushed the blanket off his lap.

Kurt’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

“Masturbating,” Blaine announced happily, pushing his pajama pants down. His cock sprang free, hard and pink, and Blaine squeezed it with a contented sigh.

Kurt groaned.

“You can watch if you don’t want to play,” Blaine allowed regally, and closed his uncovered eye as he started stroking himself in earnest, not wasting any time on teasing.

Kurt had already noticed how much more sensitive Blaine was under the influence of his meds. They were the strong, prescription kind that kept the pain of his scratched cornea at bay until it could be fixed, and they seemed to intensify both Blaine’s own emotions and his responsiveness to even the smallest changes in Kurt’s mood.

Now it seemed that emotions were not the only thing Blaine was more sensitive to.

It took no time at all - just a dozen slow, fluid strokes - for Blaine to start moaning softly, his head thrown back and the first beads of sweat gathering along his hairline. Kurt stifled a whimper. Blaine looked gorgeous like this, bold and unashamed, and Kurt ached to touch him, to put his mouth on him and see just how much more sensitive he was and how beautifully he would fall apart under Kurt’s care. But it didn’t feel right, not when Blaine was high on the painkillers. So instead, he watched, aching in the tight confines of his pants, as Blaine stroked himself with growing urgency, moaning and panting and whispering Kurt’s name in a breathless voice.

“I wish you would fuck me,” Blaine panted after a few minutes, his voice breaking as his hips stuttered up. “Just, stuff me full of your beautiful cock and make me take it for the longest time.”

Kurt gasped, pressing his hand to his zipper in an attempt to relieve a bit of the pressure. Blaine arched his back off the bed, his hand speeding up, but losing rhythm.

“I would just take it… and take it… and float on the pleasure. And then you’d make me c-come so hard I’d see the stars.” He whined, frustrated, chasing his climax and unable to keep up the tempo he needed. The meds were messing with his coordination. “Kuuurt,” he pleaded.

Kurt crawled onto the bed and stretched by his side, his resolution gone, sizzled to a crisp. He reached to take over the hold on Blaine’s cock and Blaine let him with a happy little sound, turning to his side so that he could snuggle his face into Kurt’s neck. He mouthed at Kurt’s throat and moaned as Kurt jerked him off, loud and unabashedly erotic, and it only took a short while until he was spilling over Kurt’s hand and the blanket, Kurt’s name like a prayer on his lips. The wave of his orgasm crashed over Kurt and took his breath away for a moment.

When he caught it back, Blaine was already out like a light.

Kurt cleaned him up with the tissues that were thankfully within reach, tucked him back into his pajama pants and pulled the blanket up over both of them. He knew Blaine hadn’t slept well since the accident, so he was all too happy to let him nap.

He must have dozed off too, comfortable in the warm cocoon and the bliss of just lying with Blaine in his arms without the usual concerns about time or people walking in on them. When he opened his eyes, it was dark outside, and the clock showed they had slept for over two hours. Kurt still felt sleepy, actually, drowsy and unsure what woke him. Then he felt Blaine tense by his side, no longer the warm puddle that Kurt fell asleep to.

Blaine was awake. And he was in pain.

It wasn’t bad yet, from what Kurt could tell, but it was enough to wake him up. He breathed with relief when Kurt touched his cheek and kissed his forehead.

“How much can you feel of what I’m feeling, these last few days?” Blaine asked. He didn’t sound high anymore, just wide awake and somber.

“I’m not affected by your meds, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“What about the pain?”

Kurt bit his lip. “Sometimes. When it gets bad for you, my head aches,” he admitted.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be, sweetie,” Kurt hurried to soothe him, seeking his eyes in the soft darkness. “It’s not your fault. How bad is it now?”

“It hurts, but not too bad. Too early for another dose anyway.”

Kurt stroked his back, wishing he could do anything to take the pain away. It shouldn’t have been Blaine’s anyway. He wasn’t the one Sebastian had wanted to slushie.

Blaine shrugged. “I’m okay, really.” He slid his hand down Kurt’s ribs to his hip, and then lower. “I’m sorry, I fell asleep and left you unsatisfied.”

Kurt caught his hand and put it over his heart instead. “That’s okay. You needed sleep. We’ll get back to it after your surgery.”

In Kurt’s back pocket, his phone vibrated with an incoming message. He took it out, squinting at the bright light. “Santana has half of New Directions in the Lima Bean and she says they could come over and entertain you if you want.”

Blaine rolled over to his back. “That’s sweet of them. But could you tell them not today? It’s… I just want you right now, is that alright?”

“Of course,” Kurt said softly. He could feel the beginnings of the ache settling behind his eyes, and if he could feel it, it had to be much worse for Blaine. It was still an hour until Blaine could take another pill. He quickly tapped out a reply and put away the phone, gathering Blaine closer again. “Do you want me to read to you? Distract you a little?”

Blaine shook his head, a tiny shift. “No. The light is bad when it hurts. Could we just stay like this?”

So they did, Kurt holding him close, stroking his tense back and wishing he could do anything more than that as he felt wave after wave of pain slowly creep into his head. Blaine seemed content to just be in his arms though, even if his breathing was getting tighter and more controlled as the minutes passed. Kurt glanced at the clock. 45 minutes left.

“I’m terrified,” Blaine admitted quietly a long while later.

Kurt hugged him closer. “I know, sweetie. But it’s gonna be alright. I googled the eye surgeon, and she’s supposed to be really good. And they said the prospects are great, didn’t they? You’ll be seeing perfectly in no time.”

“I know. It’s just… the last time I had surgery, I didn’t wake up afterwards,” Blaine said, and Kurt’s heart seemed to stutter in his chest. Right. How could he forget? “I’m just afraid it might happen again, that I won’t be able to find my way back and…” He shuddered in Kurt’s arms. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to die, Kurt.”

“Come on, you won’t. You had head trauma back then, that was different. This will be a planned, routine procedure, in and out in an hour, they said. You’ll be fine.” He felt Blaine nod against his chest, but the tremor in his muscles told Kurt that his words didn’t really help at all. He pulled back, forcing Blaine to look at him. “And if you do get lost… I’ll be there to help you find your way back.”

Blaine exhaled, some of the tension leaving his face. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

Kurt was pacing the small waiting room, biting at his cuticles. He was alone there; Blaine’s mom had said she would come later, when Blaine was already back in his room. Kurt knew it was no use sitting here all the way through Blaine’s surgery, but there was no way he could be anywhere else right now. Even his dad got it and didn’t protest when Kurt announced he couldn’t go to school today.

By now the surgery was over; they’d told him that much when he’d bothered the nurses, unable to sit still after two hours had passed with no news. He knew he should relax and patiently wait until Blaine was out of post-op.

But something was wrong.

It was just a feeling at first, vague and flickering at the edge of his consciousness, and he’d shrugged it off as nerves. Of course he was anxious; his boyfriend had just had surgery. But after a while it started to grow clearer and more forceful, like something weak and fuzzy pawing at the inside of Kurt’s mind, and with a gasp, Kurt realized it wasn’t just his worry making him imagine things.

He ran out of the waiting room and to the nurses’ station, interrupting their conversation.

“You’ve got to let me go to him.”

The younger of the nurses, a strict-looking brunette, frowned at him. “He’s still in post-op, I already told you that you can’t visit until he’s back in a regular room.”

Kurt tightened his hands on the edge of the counter until his fingers grew white. The fluttering in his head was getting desperate. “But he’s waking up, and he’s confused and afraid. He needs me there. I promised I’d be there if he needs me.”

“Young man, I assure you the doctors have everything under control,” the older nurse said. She had a soft voice, but it didn’t help Kurt at all. “We will tell you as soon as your friend is back in his room, and you can see him then.”

“Excuse me,” a doctor came over, interrupting the nurse - the same young doctor who had examined Blaine when they arrived in the ER and later turned out to be the surgeon who operated on him. “How do you know that he’s waking up?” she asked, not looking at him like he was hysterical, thank god.

Kurt yanked the neck of his sweater down to reveal Blaine’s mark. “Because we’re soulmates. I can feel his emotions, and I’m telling you, he’s terrified right now. Please let me go to him. I can help. I promised him.” He made his best pleading expression - though it was Blaine’s specialty, not his.

The doctor looked at the mark on his skin, then her gaze flickered to her own wrist. Kurt’s eyes followed on instinct - a slanted, jerky M peeked out from the sleeve of her white coat.

She nodded at him after a beat of hesitation. “Come on. You’ll have to change.”

***

Blaine didn’t know what was going on. He couldn’t move and his mind was sluggish, confused. He didn’t know where he was, but it felt wrong. Something was wrong - the smell, the sounds, the strange feelings over his eyes and in his left hand - and he wanted to wake up, look around, call for someone, but couldn’t. His body wouldn’t listen, as if the signals from his brain got lost on the way to his muscles. He was trapped alone, inside his head, and the more he realized that, the more terrified he was. He needed out now, his heart pounding in his ears. Tears welled up in his covered eyes and it stung fiercely, a sharp flare of pain that made him want to cry out, but he only managed a weak gasp.

Then a warm hand rested on his cheek and a wave of relief washed through Blaine’s confused brain. This was familiar. This was safe.

“Hey, it’s okay, honey,” a soft voice said, the voice Blaine wanted to follow to the end of the world. “You’re in the hospital, you just had surgery, remember? Everything’s alright, it went perfectly. Your body is just a little out of it still. It will pass.”

He struggled to turn his head slightly towards the voice - Kurt’s voice, he remembered now. Already he was breathing easier, his heartbeat slowing down, gentle waves of calm entering his mind from somewhere, and he let them in freely. It was Kurt. Kurt was safe.

“Are you in pain?” another voice asked above him, a woman’s voice.

Now that the tears were no longer threatening, the stinging subsided, so Blaine tried to shake his head. This time, with enough focus, he managed a little shift on the pillow. “No,” he breathed out, relieved when his mouth and throat seemed to work. “Tired.”

“It’s okay,” the woman said. “Don’t fight the sleepiness, your body needs to work through the meds we used in surgery, it may take a little while.”

“Kurt,” Blaine managed, trying to convey everything in this one precious word.

“I’ll be right here with you,” Kurt said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Already Blaine’s head was swimming, his thoughts scattering out of his grasp, but that was okay. Kurt would keep him safe.