Future!Fic. Some time after graduating college, Kurt is in New York and ends up in an abusive relationship. He's scared and alone, and it happens so slowly he hardly realises he's become a battered wife. Eventually, after one particularly bad fight where he boyfriend roughs him up, after he storms out of their apartment, Kurt calls Burt and tells him what happened. Burt and Finn (by now his step-brother, crush uncrushed) hop on the next plane out there to rescue him. I have an image of Kurt just sitting here, beaten and bloody, sitting against the foot of the bed, white silks spilled onto the floor, shaken and just staring into space until Burt and Finn get there, hours later, in my head.
Burt and Finn bring him back to Lima, and there they, along with Carole (and maybe any Gleeks still in the area) try to heal Kurt and help rebuild his life. But in the end, it's someone entirely unexpected that ends up saving Kurt: Puck. He and Finn made up after the whole BabyGate things years ago, and now he works with Finn (preferably at Hummel's Tires And Lube). After a few weeks of Kurt being back in Lima, he swings by, and they end up in a strange sort of friendship, that develops into a real relationship. I want to see this done sensitively and realistically, and the focus not just to be as the Puck/Kurt angle; his whole recovery should be shown here.
oooh I dunno, I already have one story in which Kurt is a abuse survivor, not sure if I should take this one on too or not...I think I'm wracking up some seriously bad karma...
If I take this, I swear off you're prompts for a while SJ, hell even if I don't, I swear off them for a while, I have to many prompts to fill. But so far it's a maybe. Anon, there is no need to bow down, I just appreciate that people seem to enjoy my angst-fests
fill! seven for a secret (never to be told) - 1/7sj_rMarch 2 2011, 18:25:51 UTC
Soo, I finished this some time ago and finally got around to editing out the typos I could find, so here's the first part :3 This is just the prologue; I'll be posting the chapters over the next few days. Aanyways, hope it's good! Enjoy :)
---
One for sorrow, two for joy Three for a girl, four for a boy Five for silver, six for gold Seven for a secret Never to be told
Kurt smiled sadly at the words. He couldn’t bring himself to look away from Blaine’s eyes, those pools of dark chocolate, and the identical curl of his lips. Yet, at the same time, the truth behind the sentence hit too close to home.
“I know.”
He’d tried to make it work. Had tried so hard. Blaine was perfect - sweet, caring, loving, a gentleman from the past decades - and it was just what Kurt had always dreamed of.
Dreams weren’t reality.
“I’m sorry.”
Blaine stepped closer, his hand resting on Kurt’s cheek. The brunet blinked back a tear.
“I know”, he whispered. “But it’s not only you.”
The dark-haired teen chuckled at this.
“Don’t you understand that you are perfect?” Blaine asked, sweeping a tear from Kurt’s face. “That is why this can’t go on. For me, you are too perfect. For you, I am too perfect. Apparently two times perfect does not make for a happy couple.”
It had been the fairytale of his life, Kurt thought. Him in a flamboyant peacoat and Blaine with his charming smile and mannerisms straight from the Disney movies.
“Can we still be friends?”
“Kurt, honey - we’ll never stop being friends. We make the best friends. We make the worst couple. I can’t express how sorry I am for this.”
“It’s not only you”, Kurt repeated, almost choking on the words. “And I’m sorry, too.”
“I know.”
It wasn’t until the sanctuary of his own room that Kurt let the heartbreaking sobs out. Flopping down on his bed, not caring about the wrinkles his blazer would acquire, the brunet buried his face in a plush pillow and screamed, cried, raged.
Rick returned not an hour later. He stopped at the door, stunned by the tears streaming down Kurt’s face. The brunet couldn’t have cared any less.
“What’s wrong?” Rick asked, voice thick with worry. Kurt couldn’t bear to look at him. “Should I go get Blaine?”
“No! No, please, don’t--”
Another series of cries, harder than before, raked Kurt’s body.
“We broke up”, he whispered between sniffles and pained gasps of air. “We broke up. Don’t.”
Kurt didn’t move away when a heavy weight settled on the side of his bed. He didn’t flinch away when a hand roughened by years of playing guitar cupped his face. He didn’t pull away when Rick molded their bodies together, sweet, caring, loving. Comforting.
“It’ll go fine, Rick. Dad’s a huge teddy bear at heart.”
“Yeah, at heart. I don’t think being introduced as your boyfriend gives me immediate access to his heart.”
Kurt laughed and slapped Rick’s chest playfully. The latino grinned back, leaning in for a kiss which he was immediately granted. Kurt’s lips parted on their own accord, relishing the mint-tinted touch.
“We should probably go in”, the brunet breathed after a while, pulling away from Rick. “Dad will start thinking we’re doing stuff here. You don’t want that. Even if he’s as fluffy as a Care Bear is.”
“That doesn’t sound convincing at all.”
Kurt rolled his eyes. “Come on. We’re in front of our house. You can make it inside.”
Making a move to open the car door, Kurt turned around, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Rick looked at him, pouting, plump lips curled up in a manner that would have made puppies envy the tempt.
“Give me a kiss of good luck?”
Shaking his head, Kurt leaned over the crack between the seats. Rick’s hands splayed on his face, warm, almost burning hot, and seeing the dark eyes smiling at him caused the joy inside him swell until he couldn’t take it anymore.
“I love you”, he whispered, their breaths mixing between two sets of parted lips.
“You have reached Kurt Hummel. I am currently unavailable to answer the phone. If I like you, I will call you back. If you’re important, I will call you back. If you interest me, I will call you back. In any other case I shall ignore your existence. Leave your message after the beep!”
“So, Kurt. You skipped another phone date with me. That boy better be damn important ‘cause I feel like I have completely replaced you with a box of Ben and Jerry’s, boo, and it just ain’t the same. Call me back, stat.”
“Hey, Mercedes - sorry about yesterday, I fell asleep after classes and only woke up now… Can’t believe the workload I already have! I mean, few days at the uni and I already feel like an overworked slave… Anyways, give me a call when you get this and I’ll do my best to answer! Bye, love you, girl.”
“So, white boy, it’s me again… Your phone broken or something? I haven’t talked with you in ages! Anyways, yeah, I totally believe that work - I think I’m buried under papers right now. My snacks are here somewhere and I can’t find them. Neither my nailfile for that matter. I really need to go now but Kurtie, we gotta have a long gossip session sometime soon. Did you hear about Artie?”
“Sadie… I’m sorry but I need to call tomorrow off. Rick’s parents are visiting and he wants to show me around, so… Hope you understand! Love, Kurt.”
“Kurt. This has been going on for too long. I haven’t so much as talked with you in weeks. Talk to me, honey, I’m worried.”
“I’m so sorry, Mercedes, but I can’t seem to find time… When I’m not working, studying or on a date with Rick, the time zones make it impossible for me to speak with you.”
“Sadie? Did you get my messages? I’ve been trying to reach you for the past two weeks and you haven’t replied to anything… I’m worried. Is everything okay?”
“Mercedes. Quinn says you’re ignoring me. She wouldn’t tell me why, but, well… Is this it?”
“So, you haven’t answered that question for another three weeks… So I guess it is. Sorry. You were the best friend I had. Love you, always, Kurt.”
Kurt hummed deep in his chest, too tired, too sated, too everything to actually think of a coherent reply. Rick’s hand rubbed his front, burning hands tweaking already sensitive nipples into angry red peaks.
“These pierced.” A hot breath on Kurt’s neck, a particularly harsh tug. “Just think about it, baby boy.”
Oh, think he did. Kurt moaned and arched into the hands palming his chest, now plural, dear Gucci, and what had Rick said again - oh. Yeah. Rings. Nipple rings. Piercings.
“No-oh!”
The ‘no’ hard started defiantly enough but under Rick’s ministrations, everything coming out of Kurt’s mouth turned into breathy gasps. The heavy weight against his rapidly growing erection wasn’t helping, neither were the fuzzy handcuffs keeping his wrists pinned above his head.
“So, how ‘bout it?”
Kurt did get the piercings. Two silver hoops, barely large enough for Rick to grasp one with the tips of his fingers and pull. Of course, that was after the months it took them to heal.
“Love you, baby boy”, Rick whispered between hard thrust that made the chain connecting Kurt’s nipples and hic cock rattle. “Love you so much.”
Afterwards, when Rick was asleep above him and Kurt could only lie still, still tied to the bed, he wondered when ‘boy’ had become synonymous to ‘toy’. Every time Rick said ‘boy’ Kurt heard ‘toy’. When Rick said ‘toy’, well - Kurt didn’t think when he crawled to the drawer to retrieve the items placed on top of it.
Pushing the thoughts to the farthest corner of his minds, the one where memories of New Directions and Warblers and Blaine and his dad resided, and snuggled his head against Rick’s chest the best he could.
They were in Vegas at the time, dancing under blinking neon lights, tipsy and maybe even bit too much of so. Kurt never learned where the long, white veil came from, or where Rick got the identical pair of silver rings - though he did find the bill of those - but he’d never forget the humiliation of waking up in the morning and remembering the obligatory phone call to his father.
“I’m married!” his first words were, giggly and very obviously drunk. “Daddy, I’m married!”
The disapproval was audible trough the silence facing him. Burt didn’t say much, only muted congratulations and queries about the next visit home - but Kurt didn’t answer, too busy trying not to fall over in the pair of eight-inch heels he had changed into during the night.
Kurt didn’t call back home again. He didn’t dare to. Not when the pure white of the tulle barely hid the bite marks on his neck, when the bruises on his back had slowly faded away - things were okay, now.
Rick loved him. They were married. People only married out of love, right? Right, daddy?
His whole body ached in the sweetest kind of torture imaginable when Kurt climbed out of his bed, cold and lone already. Rick was working. He’d need to change the sheets before he came back home. Now, though, now - now Kurt had to take a shower. A long, hot shower, steaming, burning water to cleanse him.
He didn’t look at the mirrors when he stripped down. He still had few minutes - well, considering the time he needed to wash, more like an hour - to imagine that the muscles of his back were overstressed, or that he’d accidentally worn nickel-based bracelets instead of stainless steel, or that the tired feelings he experienced were just because of a lack of sleep--
The water went cold.
Shivering, Kurt stepped out of the bathtub, flinching when he realized how long he must have taken. He’d need to hurry, now, find something good to wear and clean the house and did they have dinner plans for today? No, Rick hadn’t said anything - he’d have to cook, too. Panic began rising inside of Kurt. Did he have time?
If he chose his clothes quickly, yes.
Kurt didn’t bother looking at the first shelf of jeans in his closet when he stormed in. The golden ones were there, the dimly shining ones with coppery strings forming faint lines and squares on the fabric.
The pants were perfect. A tight fit, so small that Kurt had had to diet to fit in them. The size was okay, now.
The color wasn’t. Not anymore. With purplish, yellow-edged finger marks on his hips, no shade of yellow or orange could go near him. Would go near him.
The denim of his high-waisted jeans rubbed against sore skin as Kurt stepped out of the closet, dressed to the nines, ready to finish his chores before five o’clock.
The old woman living beneath their apartment gave Kurt the look when he passed her, smiling despite the pain he felt with every twitch of a muscle. Her head tilted, eyes pitying, mouth in a soft curl, it was the picture of everything Kurt wanted to see - but then she turned away, shaking her head, muttering curses of sinners and faggots.
Rick was home already.
“You’re late”, he said, never looking up from the paper on his lap.
“I’m sorry. There was--”
It had been a bad day and not only for Kurt, he found. Before he could finish his sentence, Rick was up, eyes spitting daggers at him, screaming silent words as the tall latino dragged him to the kitchen table. Kurt cried out when his lower back hit the sharp corner, digging against his bones, hurting him.
The tears didn’t stop when Rick’s palm connected with his cheek, too hard, too loud, too close to breaking something - Kurt couldn’t hear, couldn’t see for a moment, all his senses were muzzled - and what had he done this time? Nothing, nothing, he had done absolutely nothing - but he had, he had broken rules, had angered Rick, had been bad again--
Rick loved him. Rick was perfect. Rick was fantastic. Rick was an angel. Rick was gracious.
Kurt didn’t deserve love. Kurt was a failure. Kurt was disgusting. Kurt was stupid. Kurt was greedy.
I keep F5ing in the hopes that another update will appear. This is great so far! The section of phone messages was just heartbreaking, it got across so much loss in such a tiny volume of text. I can't wait to see where you go with this!
Burt and Finn bring him back to Lima, and there they, along with Carole (and maybe any Gleeks still in the area) try to heal Kurt and help rebuild his life. But in the end, it's someone entirely unexpected that ends up saving Kurt: Puck. He and Finn made up after the whole BabyGate things years ago, and now he works with Finn (preferably at Hummel's Tires And Lube). After a few weeks of Kurt being back in Lima, he swings by, and they end up in a strange sort of friendship, that develops into a real relationship. I want to see this done sensitively and realistically, and the focus not just to be as the Puck/Kurt angle; his whole recovery should be shown here.
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---
One for sorrow,
two for joy
Three for a girl,
four for a boy
Five for silver,
six for gold
Seven for a secret
Never to be told
Reply
Kurt smiled sadly at the words. He couldn’t bring himself to look away from Blaine’s eyes, those pools of dark chocolate, and the identical curl of his lips. Yet, at the same time, the truth behind the sentence hit too close to home.
“I know.”
He’d tried to make it work. Had tried so hard. Blaine was perfect - sweet, caring, loving, a gentleman from the past decades - and it was just what Kurt had always dreamed of.
Dreams weren’t reality.
“I’m sorry.”
Blaine stepped closer, his hand resting on Kurt’s cheek. The brunet blinked back a tear.
“I know”, he whispered. “But it’s not only you.”
The dark-haired teen chuckled at this.
“Don’t you understand that you are perfect?” Blaine asked, sweeping a tear from Kurt’s face. “That is why this can’t go on. For me, you are too perfect. For you, I am too perfect. Apparently two times perfect does not make for a happy couple.”
It had been the fairytale of his life, Kurt thought. Him in a flamboyant peacoat and Blaine with his charming smile and mannerisms straight from the Disney movies.
“Can we still be friends?”
“Kurt, honey - we’ll never stop being friends. We make the best friends. We make the worst couple. I can’t express how sorry I am for this.”
“It’s not only you”, Kurt repeated, almost choking on the words. “And I’m sorry, too.”
“I know.”
It wasn’t until the sanctuary of his own room that Kurt let the heartbreaking sobs out. Flopping down on his bed, not caring about the wrinkles his blazer would acquire, the brunet buried his face in a plush pillow and screamed, cried, raged.
Rick returned not an hour later. He stopped at the door, stunned by the tears streaming down Kurt’s face. The brunet couldn’t have cared any less.
“What’s wrong?” Rick asked, voice thick with worry. Kurt couldn’t bear to look at him. “Should I go get Blaine?”
“No! No, please, don’t--”
Another series of cries, harder than before, raked Kurt’s body.
“We broke up”, he whispered between sniffles and pained gasps of air. “We broke up. Don’t.”
Kurt didn’t move away when a heavy weight settled on the side of his bed. He didn’t flinch away when a hand roughened by years of playing guitar cupped his face. He didn’t pull away when Rick molded their bodies together, sweet, caring, loving. Comforting.
Reply
“Yeah, at heart. I don’t think being introduced as your boyfriend gives me immediate access to his heart.”
Kurt laughed and slapped Rick’s chest playfully. The latino grinned back, leaning in for a kiss which he was immediately granted. Kurt’s lips parted on their own accord, relishing the mint-tinted touch.
“We should probably go in”, the brunet breathed after a while, pulling away from Rick. “Dad will start thinking we’re doing stuff here. You don’t want that. Even if he’s as fluffy as a Care Bear is.”
“That doesn’t sound convincing at all.”
Kurt rolled his eyes. “Come on. We’re in front of our house. You can make it inside.”
Making a move to open the car door, Kurt turned around, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Rick looked at him, pouting, plump lips curled up in a manner that would have made puppies envy the tempt.
“Give me a kiss of good luck?”
Shaking his head, Kurt leaned over the crack between the seats. Rick’s hands splayed on his face, warm, almost burning hot, and seeing the dark eyes smiling at him caused the joy inside him swell until he couldn’t take it anymore.
“I love you”, he whispered, their breaths mixing between two sets of parted lips.
“I know”, Rick spoke back. “I love you, too.”
Reply
“So, Kurt. You skipped another phone date with me. That boy better be damn important ‘cause I feel like I have completely replaced you with a box of Ben and Jerry’s, boo, and it just ain’t the same. Call me back, stat.”
“Hey, Mercedes - sorry about yesterday, I fell asleep after classes and only woke up now… Can’t believe the workload I already have! I mean, few days at the uni and I already feel like an overworked slave… Anyways, give me a call when you get this and I’ll do my best to answer! Bye, love you, girl.”
“So, white boy, it’s me again… Your phone broken or something? I haven’t talked with you in ages! Anyways, yeah, I totally believe that work - I think I’m buried under papers right now. My snacks are here somewhere and I can’t find them. Neither my nailfile for that matter. I really need to go now but Kurtie, we gotta have a long gossip session sometime soon. Did you hear about Artie?”
“Sadie… I’m sorry but I need to call tomorrow off. Rick’s parents are visiting and he wants to show me around, so… Hope you understand! Love, Kurt.”
“Kurt. This has been going on for too long. I haven’t so much as talked with you in weeks. Talk to me, honey, I’m worried.”
“I’m so sorry, Mercedes, but I can’t seem to find time… When I’m not working, studying or on a date with Rick, the time zones make it impossible for me to speak with you.”
“Sadie? Did you get my messages? I’ve been trying to reach you for the past two weeks and you haven’t replied to anything… I’m worried. Is everything okay?”
“Mercedes. Quinn says you’re ignoring me. She wouldn’t tell me why, but, well… Is this it?”
“So, you haven’t answered that question for another three weeks… So I guess it is. Sorry. You were the best friend I had. Love you, always, Kurt.”
Reply
Kurt hummed deep in his chest, too tired, too sated, too everything to actually think of a coherent reply. Rick’s hand rubbed his front, burning hands tweaking already sensitive nipples into angry red peaks.
“These pierced.” A hot breath on Kurt’s neck, a particularly harsh tug. “Just think about it, baby boy.”
Oh, think he did. Kurt moaned and arched into the hands palming his chest, now plural, dear Gucci, and what had Rick said again - oh. Yeah. Rings. Nipple rings. Piercings.
“No-oh!”
The ‘no’ hard started defiantly enough but under Rick’s ministrations, everything coming out of Kurt’s mouth turned into breathy gasps. The heavy weight against his rapidly growing erection wasn’t helping, neither were the fuzzy handcuffs keeping his wrists pinned above his head.
“So, how ‘bout it?”
Kurt did get the piercings. Two silver hoops, barely large enough for Rick to grasp one with the tips of his fingers and pull. Of course, that was after the months it took them to heal.
“Love you, baby boy”, Rick whispered between hard thrust that made the chain connecting Kurt’s nipples and hic cock rattle. “Love you so much.”
Afterwards, when Rick was asleep above him and Kurt could only lie still, still tied to the bed, he wondered when ‘boy’ had become synonymous to ‘toy’. Every time Rick said ‘boy’ Kurt heard ‘toy’. When Rick said ‘toy’, well - Kurt didn’t think when he crawled to the drawer to retrieve the items placed on top of it.
Pushing the thoughts to the farthest corner of his minds, the one where memories of New Directions and Warblers and Blaine and his dad resided, and snuggled his head against Rick’s chest the best he could.
Reply
“I’m married!” his first words were, giggly and very obviously drunk. “Daddy, I’m married!”
The disapproval was audible trough the silence facing him. Burt didn’t say much, only muted congratulations and queries about the next visit home - but Kurt didn’t answer, too busy trying not to fall over in the pair of eight-inch heels he had changed into during the night.
Kurt didn’t call back home again. He didn’t dare to. Not when the pure white of the tulle barely hid the bite marks on his neck, when the bruises on his back had slowly faded away - things were okay, now.
Rick loved him. They were married. People only married out of love, right? Right, daddy?
Reply
He didn’t look at the mirrors when he stripped down. He still had few minutes - well, considering the time he needed to wash, more like an hour - to imagine that the muscles of his back were overstressed, or that he’d accidentally worn nickel-based bracelets instead of stainless steel, or that the tired feelings he experienced were just because of a lack of sleep--
The water went cold.
Shivering, Kurt stepped out of the bathtub, flinching when he realized how long he must have taken. He’d need to hurry, now, find something good to wear and clean the house and did they have dinner plans for today? No, Rick hadn’t said anything - he’d have to cook, too. Panic began rising inside of Kurt. Did he have time?
If he chose his clothes quickly, yes.
Kurt didn’t bother looking at the first shelf of jeans in his closet when he stormed in. The golden ones were there, the dimly shining ones with coppery strings forming faint lines and squares on the fabric.
The pants were perfect. A tight fit, so small that Kurt had had to diet to fit in them. The size was okay, now.
The color wasn’t. Not anymore. With purplish, yellow-edged finger marks on his hips, no shade of yellow or orange could go near him. Would go near him.
The denim of his high-waisted jeans rubbed against sore skin as Kurt stepped out of the closet, dressed to the nines, ready to finish his chores before five o’clock.
Reply
Rick was home already.
“You’re late”, he said, never looking up from the paper on his lap.
“I’m sorry. There was--”
It had been a bad day and not only for Kurt, he found. Before he could finish his sentence, Rick was up, eyes spitting daggers at him, screaming silent words as the tall latino dragged him to the kitchen table. Kurt cried out when his lower back hit the sharp corner, digging against his bones, hurting him.
The tears didn’t stop when Rick’s palm connected with his cheek, too hard, too loud, too close to breaking something - Kurt couldn’t hear, couldn’t see for a moment, all his senses were muzzled - and what had he done this time? Nothing, nothing, he had done absolutely nothing - but he had, he had broken rules, had angered Rick, had been bad again--
Rick loved him. Rick was perfect. Rick was fantastic. Rick was an angel. Rick was gracious.
Kurt didn’t deserve love. Kurt was a failure. Kurt was disgusting. Kurt was stupid. Kurt was greedy.
No, he was good, he was nice, he was gentle--
No.
Kurt was bad.
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