Fic: Painted on my Skin
Title: Painted on my Skin
Word Count: 18,700
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slight and brief trigger warning for self harm.
Summary: AU - The “C” is a brilliant red. It twists and just as it comes up to start the “o” transitions into orange. The “o” in turn becomes a “u” and transitions to a bright yellow, then green, blue, indigo and finally ending with a violet “e.” The colors blend so flawlessly together, flow and work together to create the next letter, making the full work.
AN: Based on this photo for a prompt. Here are two designs by spcshp and thissugarsgonesour of the design I imagined:
(click here for larger)
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Kurt has barely been in New York City for a week and still gets easily distracted when he needs to travel to get somewhere. Everywhere there is something new to see. Tall buildings that seemed to reach forever, towards the skies, all sorts of people that Kurt is sure can't truly exist, because they were so colorful and out there, people that would never have been in Lima, Ohio in a million years; and bright lights and rushing sounds everywhere. It was different than when he and his Glee club had come for Nationals, because this was his home now. A thought he couldn't even begin to get his mind around.
This amazing, fast paced, place was his home now. He would be here for school for at least the next four years and after that he would be damned if he wasn't going to stay here. Just being here for a week, moving into his dorm room and finding his way around the city a bit, had convinced him: Kurt Hummel belonged in this city.
That wasn't to say he didn't miss his family. His dad called him three times this week already, asking him if he was settling in alright, and Kurt could hear in his voice how much he missed him. Kurt missed his dad, too. But he felt better knowing that Carole would be able to keep him company. If his dad hadn't met Carole when he was in high school, and eventually married her, Kurt wasn't sure what this move to college would have done to his dad. He needed someone. Now he had Carole and his job in Congress, two things the Kurt knew made him so happy.
So Kurt worked by his slight homesickness and had thrown himself into New York and into school. He had been accepted to NYADA, one of the best performing arts schools in the country. How he had gotten in and Rachel Berry hadn't, Kurt wasn't sure. Kurt knew how talented Rachel was, and back when they were younger, he had resented that. It was something he came to love about her, of course, and he knew that she was better than him in so many things… but she had choked.
So Rachel had gotten in last minute to NYU and would be trying to transfer to NYADA in the coming year. She wasn't going to let her New York dreams end so easily, even though she had originally gotten the ridiculous notion to marry Finn, Kurt's step-brother, right out of high school. They were still together, for now, and only engaged.
Together, he and Rachel had moved into a small apartment about 20 minutes away from both of their schools. Her dads and Kurt's dad had pitched in some money until they both got jobs and would help pay for it. Kurt was thankful that he wouldn't have to deal with a dorm or a roommate - for one, he wouldn't be able to decorate his room as he wanted in a dorm, and he didn't want to share a room, plain and simple.
So Kurt decorated his room and the more common areas of the apartment with Rachel, trying to make it their new home. He also was preparing for school as best he could. This was different than anything he had ever done, because it was college. It was everything Kurt wanted to do with his life - sing and perform.
Kurt was nervous.
Obviously he put up a brave front for Rachel and his dad when he called, but he was so scared. He had killed with his audition, but what if he didn't have what it took? He had gotten the lead of Tony his senior year, only because he had been the only person to try out for the role, even though he wasn't what the directors thought Tony should be. He had showed them, though, when he'd played a great Tony.
Even though he could have gone without kissing Rachel Berry in his life.
Despite all these thoughts, Kurt was still absolutely terrified that he would fail. Fail at school. Fail at his dream.
These are the things that clouded his mind as he took the subway two stops from his apartment, then pushed his way out into the street to walk the rest of the way. He'd been too fidgety on the train, a death grip on the strap of his bag and toes of his boots tapping on the dirty floor. Now that he was out in the open air, he took a deep breath and pushed forward. He was on a more secluded street, and for a few horrible minutes, he was sure he had gotten lost. He knew he should have done a dry run of his way to school so he didn't get lost, but yesterday had been filled with last minute decorations in the apartment and time got away from him.
After a few minutes, though, and checking his phone for his location, he knows he's only five minutes away from campus and takes a deep breath. Kurt slows down and looks around. It's a pretty nice neighborhood, all things considered. There is a few walls with graffiti, but that's so common here that Kurt just takes it all in now.
There is one side of a building where the wall is a smooth white expanse, or at least, the parts that aren't covered in brilliant colors. It's not a wall as filled as others Kurt has seen. There is a flag painted high on the right corner, both gender signs painted in the center and frozen in a nonexistent wind that makes Kurt stop and smile. There are a few unreadable words near the bottom that Kurt's eyes ghost over.
Then he sees it.
It takes up a lot of the wall and is in the very center, a few feet down from the gender flag. It's very simple, for a piece of wall art, Kurt thinks at first. It's just a word.
But it's absolutely beautiful and makes Kurt completely pause for a few moments. He walks closer to the wall, blinking up at the word and reading it over and over again.
Courage.
The word itself is written in an elegant script. Kurt doesn't even understand how someone could do something so beautiful on a huge canvas, probably in the middle of the night. What draws Kurt to the word, however, isn't how beautiful the handwriting is. It's the colors.
The "C" is a brilliant red. It twists and just as it comes up to start the "o" transitions into orange. The "o" in turn becomes a "u" and transitions to a bright yellow, then green, blue, indigo and finally ending with a violet "e." The colors blend so flawlessly together, flow and work together to create the next letter, making the full work.
A complete sentiment.
Kurt looks up at the word. He can't help but feel like the origins of the word, especially with the colors, are aimed to the LGBTQ community. If anything, it hits Kurt's heart swiftly and his eyes are tearing up before he can even fully recognize it.
The grip on Kurt's bag tightens even more as his eyes keep scanning the word, following the rise and fall of the letters like a lifeline. After a few moments, Kurt blinks, keeps his eyes shut.
This is what he needed. So long ago.
He needed this - he needed courage - when he was in the closest and terrified of coming out to his father and friends. He needed the push out back then, even though somehow, he had found that courage without the prompting.
He needed this when he was being pushed around by bullies, called names and physically abused everyday. He needed this every time a slushie was tossed into his face and the hot tears mixed with the cold ice dripping down his face.
Oh, how he needed this when David Karofsky kissed him in the locker room. When he threatened him and Kurt didn't have anyone to turn to. He had been so scared for that whole year, until finally, things had resolved themselves. Karofsky moved and Kurt never heard from him again, until later in his senior year, when he tried to kill himself after being outted. God, he needed courage then, too, because part of him had wanted to reach out to Karofsky, but he couldn't. All he could think of was the year before and the fear and couldn't bring himself to visit him in the hospital.
Kurt wonders what courage would have done for him, if he had this when he was high school.
His eyes open, looking up at the mural once more. He reaches up and wipes the tears from his cheeks as a small smile lifts the edges of his lips.
The point was that he had this now. Kurt knows that this is what he needed, especially today.
Kurt takes one more look at the word, then his watch, and realizes that he's going to be late. He rushes pass the word and makes it in time for his history of music class. He's anxious throughout the class, though not necessarily from nerves anymore. He finds his thoughts going back to the word on the wall. The class itself is interesting, and doesn't seem too difficult at first. The professor, too, is funny and engaging. Nothing like teachers at McKinley. Kurt leaves feeling more at ease about the actual education he's going to be getting into than ever before.
Kurt grabs a coffee from the school's café before going to his theatre 101 class, which is a two and a half hour work shop. That, too, is amazing, purely for the fact that the teacher gets them up and moving doing acting exercises. Kurt is laughing with other people in his class that he automatically clicks with. He hasn't done that with people since Glee club, and it feels like being home in the choir room again.
After class Kurt gets lunch with Amanda and Jimmy, two of the people from his class who he'd been partnered with. Amanda is from Texas and Jimmy from here in New York, and he likes to hear about their backgrounds before coming here to NYADA. Amanda, for instance, was in most all of her high school productions. Not all of them were starring roles, but she just liked to be involved in any way possible. Jimmy was in Glee club, like Kurt, and loved singing as much as he liked acting. Kurt couldn't believe how quickly they all fell into a comfortable conversation. Outside his Glee club, Kurt hadn't really been friends with anyone in high school.
The three of them parted after lunch and Kurt felt like he was floating as he made his way back home the same way he had come. As he neared the wall with the mural, he slowed.
Part of Kurt wondered if it had even been real. It seemed too good to really exist. But as he rounded the corner, there it was, as vibrant as ever. He looked up at it with a wide smile. He couldn't even describe the amazing feelings the word and vivid colors provoked.
Kurt pulled his phone from his pocket, raising and steadying it in his hands to snap a photo. Then, after taking one more look, turned to walk back to the subway.
000000
At first, Kurt only sets the photo as his phone background. It's a comforting thing to see whenever he hangs up with his dad or closes out of a text with his friends back home. He keeps the sentiment of the mural in the forefront of his mind.
In some ways, Kurt thinks that it's almost easier to be courageous here. For once in his life, Kurt doesn't stand out. It's a curiously good feeling. There are other people who are gay in his classes. He's not the only one "out" and proud. He even gets flirted with by a guy in his musical theory class, something that blows Kurt away at first and leaves him a blushing mess for at least ten minutes.
Even though Kurt is still fabulous (how could he not be?) in the way he dresses, other people around him put just as much effort into their appearance as well. They even recognize the labels and work Kurt puts into his outfits and they spend hours talking about fashions with each other.
For once, Kurt isn't the only one, and so it's easier to put himself on the line to make friends or be great in his classes. Courage fell into his lap.
Kurt still looks at the mural everyday on his way to school. It's like greeting an old friend at this point. A reminder for what his day should be like.
The photo finds its way onto the wallpaper of his laptop, as well, because Kurt is frankly in love with it at this point. It's everything that Kurt strives to do in his day to day life at this point. It's obviously worked out. Rachel asks him about it at one point. Kurt blushes and looks away for a moment.
"It's on this wall on my way to school," he says when she asked. "It just - I really like it."
"It is rather beautiful," Rachel had said and they had moved on. Kurt was glad for this. For some reason, the word and mural had become something personal for him. His own mantra, only between him and whoever had put the word upon the wall who knows how long ago.
Two weeks after school begins, Kurt is at a coffee shop close to school finishing up on some homework and sipping on a cup of coffee when he hears his name. He lifts his head up, surprised to see a familiar face.
"Oh," he said, blinking up at the larger girl. "Lauren Zizes?"
"The one and only, elfin," she said, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down. She puts her bag on the table, along with a camera case and a plate with a muffin.
"Wow," said Kurt, still a little surprised. He and Lauren hadn't ever been friends in high school, but he'd know her. He'd always admired (and feared) her for being the only girl on the wrestling team. Her parents had to sue the school, but hey, it had worked. "This is… strange. I didn't know you were going to New York after graduation."
"Of course not," she said. "And neither did I about you, because honestly, we didn't talk. I only joined the glee club that one time because Puckerman promised me seven minutes in heaven and Cadbury Eggs."
"Well," said Kurt. "We did appreciate it. We were a person short after all. Uh, what brought you to the city, then?" It was strange, being in New York with someone from Lima that wasn't Rachel.
"I got into a film school," said Lauren, brushing a few stray crumbs from her shirt. "For a while I was thinking about going into wrestling or getting a scholarship, but the moment you get hurt, you're out of luck. I liked the AV club a lot and so went for that instead."
"That's - that's actually really cool, Lauren," said Kurt. He did vaguely remember her being in the AV club with Artie, but he'd honestly never paid that much attention. "I'm going to NYADA for musical theatre."
"Of course you did twinkle toes," said Lauren. She said it with almost a mocking tone, but she was giving Kurt a genuine smile. "I gotta say, being out of Ohio has its perks, but seeing a familiar face from home is good, too."
"I agree," said Kurt, nodding enthusiastically. "I mean, I do live with Rachel Berry, but seeing another person from home is nice. If strange."
"Oh god, Rachel Berry," groaned Lauren. "Sorry, but if you bring her around here, I reserve the right to tape her mouth shut." A laugh bubbled up before he could stop it. There had been times since moving in with Rachel that Kurt had thought the same thing, honestly.
Kurt didn't question that Lauren has basically said there would be more meetings between them, either. Because she was right: it was nice to see a friendly familiar face here in this city that sometimes Kurt felt lost in, though he loved being here.
The first day, conversation was stilled. They brought up the past more often than not, comparing what teachers they liked and hated in high school. Certain students that they both disliked. Moments they remembered from the four years they had been in school together without really speaking. But it was actually fun, in its own way. It was probably one of the first times Kurt looked back on his high school experience with nostalgia.
" - Puckerman ended up being a horrible kisser, though, so that was a bust," said Lauren, as they had gotten onto relationships in high school for some reason. "I wouldn't have minded having a boyfriend in high school, but Puck just wasn't the guy at all. But there is this guy in my film studies class that is a fox."
"Hmm," said Kurt, finishing his coffee. "I wish I could have had a boyfriend in high school," he said, voice dropping. "But…"
"We went to Homophobic High, you can say it," said Lauren, as blunt as always. "It sucked that you couldn't get ass back in Ohio, because frankly, I'd hit that harder than the might fist of God if you swung in my direction."
Kurt's faced burned at Lauren's words, sputtering and looking down at the table. "Wow."
"It's true," said Lauren with a shrug. "You are hot, Hummel. Any gay guy would be stupid not to see that. You can't tell me you haven't gotten some looks since coming here."
"Well," said Kurt. "I do get flirted with in one of my classes by this guy - but he hasn't tried to ask me out or anything. And there have been some appreciative glances to my jeans that have absolutely nothing to do with my jeans. But like I said, nobody has actually asked me out. That's what matters, right?"
"Just you wait," said Lauren, taking a sip of her tea. "You'll be beating off all the Ricky Martins in this city with a stick in no time."
From there, Kurt and Lauren actually become something like friends. They exchange numbers and meet up for coffee and lunches often. Lauren ends up roping him and a few of his friends from NYADA for a project she needs to film. Obviously they are all completely up for it, because it helps them with their acting and being around a camera. Rachel is skeptical when he mentions Lauren to her, but doesn't push to meet up with her, which he knows Lauren appreciates. Kurt doesn't ever want to know if she's serious or not about the duct tape thing. (She probably is). Which is why Kurt doesn't want to risk them being in a room together for long.
It's something that grounds Kurt more. Lauren becomes a part of his schedule quickly. This mostly involves school and very little outside partying, because honestly, Kurt is just not in to that sort of thing. He does enjoy going out on the town once and a while, mostly because it's Lauren that ends up demanding they go out. She gets them into bars with fake IDs, once even taking them to a gay bar where Kurt feels uncomfortable and on display. Lauren thinks it's a blast, though.
Besides Rachel and the word on the back of the building wall, Lauren is the most constant and comforting thing he's found in New York. It makes the transition into the life of the city that much easier.
Before Kurt realizes how much time has passed, he's been in school for a little over a month. The city is turning colder everyday, which Kurt loves, because it's an excuse to break out all his scarves and layers especially on cold mornings.
Kurt walks into the coffee shop that he and Lauren usually frequent one morning, unwrapping his scarf slightly. He spots Lauren and waves, grabbing his own coffee and sitting in front of her. Without preamble, Lauren proclaims, "I'm getting at tattoo."
Kurt almost chokes on his coffee.
"What?" he asked, still a little surprised.
"A tattoo, god, it's not the most shocking thing in the world," said Lauren.
"It's just - I never knew you wanted one."
"I've been thinking about it for a while now," said Lauren. She shrugged nonchalantly.
"What did you want to get?" asked Kurt. He'd never really thought about the concept of a tattoo that much before - he'd always thought that they would be tacky.
"You know the antique film count down?" asked Lauren. "That spins around and counts down from 10 or 5?"
"For old movies?" asked Kurt. "Yeah, I know it. You want that?"
"Yes," said Lauren. "Just the number '1', though. Right on my shoulder. I've wanted it for years, honestly. My parents were never really that thrilled on the idea, though, so I decided against it. But I was thinking the other day and thought, what the hell, I got some money saved up for it and I'm an adult. I can do what I want."
"I guess you're right," said Kurt. "I mean, if you're sure? They are pretty permanent after all."
"Really, I had no idea."
"You know what I mean," said Kurt.
Lauren sighed. "I'm sure. I want this. I'm going whether or not you want to come with."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"Yeah. Moral support and all that," said Lauren. "And what if the tattoo guy is weird? I don't want to be stuck in an awkward silence the whole time."
"Of course I'll come with you," said Kurt. "When did you want to do it?"
"This weekend," said Lauren. "I was asking around and there was a guy in my class that has a lot of tattoos that recommended a place. They're super clean and reliable. He likes their artists, too."
"Well then," said Kurt. "I guess sooner is better than later."
A few days later, Kurt finds himself in the first tattoo parlor that he's ever been in. Since he's never really thought about a tattoo before, he'd never thought he'd find himself in one. When he'd mentioned to Rachel that he was going with Lauren to get a tattoo, she'd nearly fainted. Kurt had quickly explained that he was going for moral support.
"You nearly gave me a heart attack," said Rachel. "Good god, Kurt."
It wasn't everything that Kurt had expected. It was nicely lit and most of the walls were covered with tattoo designs and photos of what had to be previous customers. The tattoo artists weren't what Kurt had expected, either. The stereotype of big burly guys with tattoo sleeves were wrong, and Kurt should have none better since he was always the stereotype as well.
The person giving Lauren here tattoo was actually a woman. She had a few tattoos on her arm and legs, which Kurt had to admit were quite tasteful. She was friendly and introduced herself as Jean. After Lauren told Jean what she wanted, she did a quick sketch and Lauren said she loved it. They went back to get Lauren's shoulder cleaned off before she put gloves on and started.
Kurt stood next to Lauren for the first ten minutes. A bit of the pain showed itself in Lauren's face at first, but it seemed to fade after a while. Kurt started to drift away from Lauren after her insistence that he look around and not get too bored. Her tattoo wasn't too big and wouldn't take that long, but it would still be a while.
So Kurt looked around at all the photos for a while. There were the usual: roses and dragons, some "tramp stamps" and others that were actually quite unique. At some point, maybe thirty minutes into the tattoo, Kurt came across a part of a wall completely devoted to handwriting tattoos.
They were all so different. Some where of neat script, others of cursive, other still quite messy and looked like a child's handwriting. Those were mostly on mothers and fathers, by the looks of it. That tugged at Kurt's heart, especially.
He'd definitely been quick to judge that tattoos were all tacky.
Kurt really liked the handwriting tattoos. He read them all. Some were single words, others full sentences. Sentiments of love and dreaming, of believing and others of just names. They were all sorts of different colors. Some plain and others bright.
As he read the tattoos, something tugged at him for a while. They looked familiar, in a way. Not familiar, just similar.
Then Kurt realized that they reminded him of the "Courage" mural.
Kurt thought about the word he'd seen so much at this point, it was like an old friend. The handwriting Kurt liked most, even out of the dozens on the wall in front of him. It was neat, but pretty. Definitely readable. The colors, too, were nice. They weren't plain, but they also were too much. They would actually look really nice against pale skin…
Kurt pulled out his phone, opening his screen and looking at the close up of the mural. Then he looked up at a particular tattoo photo. This one was of a girl's wrist with the word "Dreamer" written in black ink. Kurt liked the placement a lot. It was a place that could be easily covered with a long sleeved shirt if needed. Kurt looked down at his own wrist, bare and creamy white.
In this moment, Kurt realized his heart was beating frantically and his stomach flipped with the realization.
He was actually thinking about getting a tattoo.
When it finally hit him, Kurt actually paused to think about it for a moment.
Did he actually want something permanently inked onto his body? Something that, if he wanted to remove, would be just as painful as when it was put on?
And the pain.
Lauren seemed to be handling it fine. She and Jean were even joking back and forth. But Lauren could probably handle pain more than Kurt.
But the word "courage" was much smaller than her tattoo. It wouldn't take as long, though the wrist was no doubt more painful than the shoulder.
In a way, maybe the pain would be worth it.
Kurt closed his eyes and thought back to all the times when he'd wished he'd had courage the face things. That had been painful, certainly. The pain of knowing that he wasn't doing something he should, or the pain of withstanding the bullying he'd faced. Even facing up to his bullies had been painful. Following through with courage, that was painful, too. It could hurt.
But it was worth it.
Kurt's wrist started to itch, the skin prickling. It hadn't done that in over a year. Not since his low points.
There had been times that Kurt had stared down at his wrists, the skin itching and prickling uncomfortably (just like now), and he'd thought: "Why didn't he just press something sharp against the skin there to stop the itch?"
Those were the lowest points. They'd fled quickly, because Kurt wasn't that big of a coward. He didn't want to be one of the gay teen statistics. He knew that other people felt pain like he did, and he didn't want to make their pain less, but that wasn't for him. He didn't want to cut himself. But the low points -
But a constant reminder on his skin to always have courage? To never sink that low or even consider that sort of action? The thought was just as comforting as the word, painted in such beautiful colors.
Which brought him to the subject of the potential tattoo. Did he want it on his skin forever?
Lauren's tattoo was a part of her life, like singing was to Kurt. So of course she wanted on her body forever. Did Kurt want this word, this art, on him?
The answer was yes, almost right away. The word itself Kurt identified. Paired with the rainbow coloring, it was all that Kurt was. He identified with gay, and he was so proud of that. He was planning on participating in Pride one day and yes, he would put together a fabulous outfit in all the colors of the rainbow when he did.
So this was it. Kurt was suddenly and completely convinced.
He walked back over to Lauren. He looked at her tattoo, which looked almost completed. He waited silently for Jean to finish up and put a bandage over it. Jean looked up at him, smiling. "What do you think? I'm sure she wants some feedback from her friend." His heart beat wildly.
"I love it," he said. "It's really amazing."
"Hell yeah it is," said Lauren. She winced slightly as she stood up, making an effort not to move her arm.
"Actually," said Kurt, pushing through and, not even the least bit ironically, summoning all the courage he had. "I wanted to get a tattoo as well."
"What?"
Kurt looked at Lauren for a moment, a small smile on his face.
"Really now?" asked Jean.
"Yes," he said. He pulled his phone out again and handed it to her. "It's this design. I wanted it on my wrist, about an inch down?"
"Hmmm." Jean looked down at the photo. "The colors and all?"
"Especially the colors." Kurt let out a breath. "It's been an important part of my life lately - can you do it?"
"Actually, Manuel is the best at handwriting tattoos," said Jean. "He's in the back. I'll go get him for you, if that's okay?"
"Yeah, of course."
Jean disappeared in the back, leaving Kurt and Lauren by themselves.
"Okay, when did this happen?" asked Lauren. "When the hell did you decide you wanted a tattoo?"
"Uh, kind of ten minutes ago," said Kurt. "I mean, the design is something I've loved for a while, but it didn't occur to me until just now. I've never really had an opinion either way on tattoos, honestly. But this seems - it seems right."
"Let me see the design," said Lauren. Kurt handed the phone to her and she looked down, taking in the photo. A look of understanding dawned on her. She nodded and handed the phone back. "I can dig that."
"I've never done something like this before," Kurt admitted as he took back his phone and started to fiddle with it. "I mean, I usually plan things more - I'm not this, uh…"
"Spur of the moment?" suggested Lauren.
"Yes," said Kurt.
"I think a bit of spontaneity will be good for you, Hummel," said Lauren, patting him on the back with so much force that he stumbled. She didn't always know her own strength, or maybe knew and purposefully ignored that she knew. "You're an adult now, in New York City and living the life - you should do something crazy once and a while."
Lauren's words made Kurt's heart beat faster. There was no question - he was doing this.
Jean returned, a tall Latino man with her. He leaned over, introducing himself as Manuel. Kurt said his name with a nervous tone.
"First tattoo?" asked Manuel, the right side of his mouth raising up in a smile.
"Both of them," said Jean. "Lauren here just got hers, but like I told you, Kurt wants a handwriting tattoo on his wrist."
"Yes, let me see what you wanted - Jean said you had a photo," said Manuel. Kurt handed the phone over once more. Manuel stared at it for a long moment, nodding. "Let me just do my own sketch of this, Kurt," he said.
Kurt watched as Manuel drew out the mural, a complete replica of the one he passed everyday on his way to school. Then Manuel did another, this time with the colors. He asked if this was what Kurt wanted and he nodded.
"Why don't you sit down," said Manuel. "I'll get all the colors prepped."
Kurt sat and Lauren asked him if he wanted her close. "Maybe for a few minutes when it starts?" asked Kurt. "Like I did for you. Then you can walk around or just sit somewhere."
The preparation was similar to Lauren's. Kurt was nervous, because he knew it would hurt and he still couldn't believe he was doing this. "Which arm?" Manuel asked. Kurt thought about it for a few moments and held out his left. It would be more out of the way when it was healing, after all.
"You ready?" Manuel asked. Kurt nodded. Manuel's gloved hand came out, pressing a little amount of pressure to the sides of Kurt's wrist as he adjusted it out on the table in front of him. Kurt eyed the needle and the ink he'd set out, already curious as to how the red would look on his pale skin.
"Yes," said Kurt.
The first moment the needle touched his skin, Kurt winced. It felt what it was - a needle suddenly pricking out, but over and over again. It was uncomfortable, and a little painful. Mostly, Kurt began to get annoyed with it. Usually you could stop a painful thing from happening, but this was constant. It stung, but mostly, it wasn't absolutely horrible.
After five minutes, Lauren began to drift away from him. Kurt didn't mind. He liked to endure things in silence mostly.
"So, why this tattoo?" asked Manuel. It surprised Kurt that he'd started to talk. He was changing from red to orange now. Manuel smiled. "I like to hear the stories behind tattoos, especially handwriting. I have my own."
"What's yours?"
"Familia. It's on my back. Then I have the names of all my family members under that."
"That's sweet," said Kurt. "I….well, the photo is from this mural. I pass it everyday on my way to school. The first time I saw it, I cried, because - it was exactly what I needed." Kurt's voice had dropped slightly and he followed Manuel's actions as he continued with the tattoo. It didn't even look like he was listening, really, but Kurt was sure he was. He looked completely intent on his worked.
"I haven't been the most courageous person in my life, I don't think," said Kurt. "But with this - I started to feel like I could be, lately. And the fact that it was written in rainbow colors…"
"LGBTQ?" asked Manuel. He paused, looking up with a smile.
Kurt hesitated for a moment. The man was giving him a tattoo, after all, and what if he was just as insensitive as the people he'd grown up with? New York City might have been more accepting on a whole, but there was always the exception.
"Yes," Kurt finally decided. It was probably painfully obvious, after all.
Manuel nodded and leaned back down, continuing with his work. "I thought so. It's a beautiful design. I'm sure the artist would be infinitely proud that someone was putting it on their skin and that he touched you enough for that."
"I would hope so," said Kurt. "I mean, I don't know the artist, obviously. But sometimes - sometimes I feel like maybe I do. I feel so connect to this mural, and the things I feel when I look at it, sometimes I feel like we're the same person." Kurt chuckled, feeling self conscious. He'd never said these things out loud before.
"I understand," said Manuel. "You can become connected to things without any explainable reasoning. Me? I feel connected to someone whenever I give a new tattoo. A person is going to be carrying around what I just put on them for the rest of their life. That can be a heavy feeling, sometimes."
"I'm sure," said Kurt.
"It's just like any other art form," said Manuel. "Sometimes we're just transposing someone else's art, like in this case, other times it's our own unique design. We put our soul into it."
"I feel the same about singing," said Kurt. "It's the best feeling when I can put everything into a song or a performance, leave all other things behind and just get lost in music and words."
"You're a singer?"
"I am. I go to NYADA."
"That's a nice school," he remarked. "This your first year?"
"It is. I can't believe I'm finally in New York. It's where I've always wanted to be. I grew up in Ohio and well, that's why I needed courage in the first place." Kurt laughed with a bitter edge to it. "Being the only out guy in my school wasn't pretty. But being here? It's been so amazing."
"Obviously I've only known you for twenty minutes," said Manuel, a wide grin on his face. "But I think you have more courage than you say you do, Kurt."
Kurt couldn't really come up with a response to that. He wasn't so sure, but then, was getting a tattoo out of the blue courageous or just really stupid?
Manuel was only two letters from the end of the tattoo. The colors did look fantastic, though Kurt's skin was red and inflamed from the needle. He knew that would fade with time and heal, making the tattoo stand out more. Kurt especially liked the blue and the look on his skin.
With the conversation Manuel had provided, Kurt had forgotten about the pain for the most part. It was almost numb to him by now, a dull throbbing on his left arm, though a few times a sharp pain would interrupt and make him wince.
Finally, Manuel finished the 'e' and Kurt looked down in awe.
He had a tattoo.
It was beautiful, so much like the mural was. Each letter of the word twisted into each other, colors fading effortlessly into the next.
"Wow," breathed Kurt. "Thank you."
"It was my pleasure," said Manuel as he began to clean up. He bandaged Kurt's tattoo, but not without taking a quick photo for the wall.
Both Kurt and Lauren paid for their tattoos - Lauren's was a bit more than his, since it was bigger - and Kurt made sure to leave a good tip for Manuel. He was nice, and had done a great job of distracting Kurt from the pain.
He and Lauren walked out of the tiny shop into the brisk air and Kurt was positively vibrating with the adrenaline of what had just happened. His wrist throbbed still, but there was the promise of it being completely healed in two weeks, and the fact that he could carry the reminder of who he was and who he wanted to be around always.
"We need to celebrate," said Kurt. "Let's get something amazing for lunch."
"I hear you," said Lauren.
They celebrated their tattoos with lunch and then grabbed coffee to go, parting ways to go to their own apartments. Kurt walked into his front door, humming absently and taking the last sip to his non fat mocha.
"How did Lauren's tattoo go?" asked Rachel from her spot on the living room couch.
Kurt stopped in his tracks, a burst of fear running through his veins.
He hadn't even thought about Rachel.
"Uh…."
"What? Did she chicken out?"
Kurt snorted. "It's Lauren."
"True," said Rachel, smiling up from her book. Kurt began to take his scarf and coat off, wondering how to tell Rachel that not only had Lauren gotten a tattoo, but so had he. Then Rachel's eyes dropped from his face to his left arm. Kurt looked down, realizing that the bandage was visible now that his coat wasn't on.
Damn quarter sleeved shirts.
At least he didn't have to tell her.
"Kurt Hummel, you did not."
"I just - I felt like - I really wanted -" Kurt couldn't even begin to verbalize what had happened today. How he knew that he wanted the tattoo in the first place. How he knew that it was what he needed.
"But your acting!" she screeched. "Sometimes tattoos make casting directors look the other direction! Kurt -"
"But it's small," said Kurt. "It can be covered so easily, by make up or a sleeve. It will be fine, Rachel."
"I can't believe," huffed Rachel. "That you got a tattoo and didn't even bring me for moral support."
Well, that was a sudden change of direction.
"Well," said Kurt. "I hadn't planned on it at all. I'm sorry."
Rachel sighed, still eyeing his wrist. "What did you get?"
Kurt wordlessly pulled out his phone and handed it to her. He had also taken a photo of his tattoo before the bandage had gone one. Rachel looked and in a moment the angry lines on her face disappeared, eyes softening. She looked up at her, a small smile forming.
"I think my dads would love to see this one day," she said, handing back the phone. A bigger smile came to Kurt's face. He was glad she approved, for whatever reason.
"I'll have to show it to them next time we're home," he said.
Rachel and Kurt smiled at each other for a long moment. Then Rachel blinked once, a strange expression coming over her face, then she laughed. Hard.
"What?" asked Kurt.
"I wonder what Burt will say," she said with a small giggle.
Kurt's heart jumped and he groaned.
He wasn't looking forward to that conversation in the least.
000000
Kurt's tattoo healed and he ended up telling his father around the time he took the bandage off on their weekly phone calls. Burt, at first, thought he was kidding, but he quickly realized that he wasn't. After that, Burt was mostly confused.
"I never knew you wanted one, kiddo," he said.
"I didn't," said Kurt. "Until I found exactly the thing I wanted." Kurt had described the tattoo to Burt and promised to send a picture of it to Finn's phone so he could in turn show it to Burt (since he had the simplest phone on the market and so no picture messaging). After Kurt had told him about why he wanted it, and what it meant to him, Burt seemed pacified.
"Well," Burt said slowly. "If it's what you wanted - just promise me you won't go out and cover your body in 'em, okay?"
Kurt laughed. "Oh, believe me," said Kurt. "I think this is all I ever want."
So time moved on. Kurt was still learning so much more at NYADA and making more friends. A few ended up coming to lunch and coffee with Lauren a couple times. Rachel, too, seemed to be adjusting to the city with flying colors.
After Kurt's tattoo healed completely, he loved looking down at it. It would catch his eye as he worked, still foreign looking n his body, and he would pause and smile. It was like when he saw the mural day after day on his way to school - it served as a reminder. It was beautiful, and Kurt didn't regret getting it in the least, as he thought he might with such a rash decision.
Kurt only wished that it wasn't the dead of winter in New York. He had to keep it covered at most times with a coat or long sleeved shirt. Kurt had always loved this season the most, because his usual layered look was actually quite functional, but now he just wanted to show off his tattoo. He was able to in classes some times, when his coat was off and he pushed up his sleeves for whatever reason, but this was the extent.
It wouldn't be long, however, until he was able to show it off. Wear quarter or short sleeved shirts and wear the tattoo with pride, like he wanted to.
It was the second week of November that Kurt trudged into his and Lauren's usual coffee shop, coat wrapped around himself. He looked around the shop, frowning when he didn't see Lauren. Her class got out ten minutes before his own and she was always here before him.
Kurt texted her as he got into line, asking where she was. He got the answer a few seconds later.
Sorry bro - I have to stay late to edit. See you tomorrow.
Kurt frowned at his phone and sighed, pocketing it after a moment. He'd wanted to tell Lauren what had happened in his class today. Well, he'd just get his coffee, warm up a bit, and continue home early.
After a few moments, Kurt stepped up to order. "A granda non fat mocha?" he said, digging into his jeans for his wallet.
"Don't bother," said the barista. "The guy in front of you said he would cover your drink." She was smiling at him, eyes sparkling.
"Wait - what?"
"He's right over there," she said, pointing to a table a few feet away. Kurt looked over, still a little surprised. He followed her gaze, eyes falling on a boy around his age. He had dark hair that was styled with gel, a red cardigan on with checkered shirt under it, and a bowtie. He glanced up as Kurt looked over to him and smiled, raising his glass in Kurt's direction. Kurt blushed and turned back to the barista, who had his coffee ready.
"Thank you," he said. She giggled and nodded.
Kurt stepped out of line, not sure what to do. Should he leave? Go over and say thank you? Sit down with the boy?
Finally, Kurt pushed himself to go over to the boy - he was cute. And damn if he didn't have the courage to flirt with a boy who had just bought him coffee for at least a few minutes.
"Hi," said Kurt as he stepped up to the table. He noticed that the boy had a sketch book on the table in front of him, along with a row of pens and pencils. His coffee was steaming next to a plate of biscotti and one of the big cookies that looked like a Thanksgiving Turkey.
He looked up, a goofy grin on his face. "Hi."
"I just - I wanted to say thanks." Kurt awkwardly lifted his cup for a moment. "I don't know why you did it, though. Buy my coffee."
"I heard you sigh behind me," said the boy. "And looked to see you staring at your phone like it personally offended you. You looked sad. I wanted to make your day better." He shrugged.
"Oh," said Kurt, blinking at him. "I - thank you. Again. My friend sort of bailed on me."
"Would you like to sit with me?" asked the boy after a moment of hesitation. He looked nervous for the first moment since the beginning of their conversation.
"I don't want to interrupt -"
"It's not interrupting," said the boy. "I can't draw until I've finished my food, after all, so I'd love to chat for a while." He smiled. "I'm having a bit of artist block anyway."
"Oh." Kurt paused for a moment, then he pulled the chair out across from the boy.
"I'm Blaine, by the way," he said, holding out his hand for Kurt.
Kurt wanted to laugh, because really, who their age held out a hand to shake when they first met? Instead he smiled and held out his own hand. Blaine's hand was rough and still a little cold from outside. "Kurt."
"It's nice to meet you," said Blaine. He reached for his biscotti, dipping it in his coffee before taking a small bite. "Did your friend give a reason for bailing?" he asked, mouth a little full.
Kurt sighed. "She's a film student. Had to do some editing for something. Probably the project she's been talking about non-stop. It's okay. I was just going to go home and maybe get some work done."
Blaine smiled. "I should get work done, too. But like I said - block."
"I didn't know that you could get, uh, drawing block. I've heard of writer's block."
"Oh yes," said Blaine. "It's a sickness."
Kurt laughed, then looked down at his coffee.
"Would you like to split my cookie?"
"What?" he asked, looking up. Blaine had pushed the plate toward him.
"Well, the biscotti is what I always get, but then the cookie looked so good," said Blaine. "But then I sat down and realized that I ordered way too much. And dinner is in just a few hours." He laughed.
"I - I don't want to -"
"Kurt," said Blaine, tone serious. "Really. It's fine."
"I guess," said Kurt finally. "If it's just going to go to waste if I don't." The smile on Blaine's face shouldn't have pleased Kurt as much as it did in that moment.
They sat for a few silent moments as Kurt broke off a piece of the cookie and began to eat. His eyes drifted down Blaine's form, studying him. Then Blaine's eyes came up from his plate, meeting Kurt's, and he blushed.
"So," said Kurt in a rush. "You're an artist? Are you any good?"
Kurt wanted to face palm. God, that was so stupid.
"I mean - I'm sure you are - I just mean - uh -"
Blaine was laughing. "Kurt, it's okay." Then he shrugged. "I don't know. I'm in art school right now. So I guess I'm okay, then?"
"Well," said Kurt. "I'm sure you're great. I would ask to see your stuff, but I did just meet you and don't want to seem rude."
Blaine was still smiling, looking at him with an almost fond expression. His eyes sparkled with mirth and again, Kurt didn't know why he liked that he'd caused this reaction.
"I usually don't show my art readily," said Blaine with a nod. "I'm a little shy with some stuff. I'm trying to get better at it, honest." He laughed, looking down at his coffee as he stirred in another biscotti. He shrugged again - it must be a nervous habit - and looked up. "Maybe after we've known each other longer."
"Oh, 'known each other longer', then," said Kurt with a mischievous tone. "There will be more of these interactions, then?"
Blaine's eyes widened and his expression fell. "I just - oh god, I didn't mean to like, insinuate that - I just -"
"I'm sorry," said Kurt. "I didn't mean to freak you out. I just -" Kurt paused, trying to search for the right words. "I don't usually do this."
"Do what?" asked Blaine.
"Chat up guys in a coffee shop," said Kurt, embarrassed. "Or get coffee bought for. Or strike up conversations with complete strangers that make me want to have more with them."
The right edge of Blaine's mouth started to rise. "So you do want to have more?"
"Yes," said Kurt. Then he paused, taking in Blaine's full grin. "Wait - you tricked me."
"I did." Blaine looked pleased with himself. He chuckled and then brought his arm up to rest his chin on his hand. "Look, Kurt, I have known you for all of five minutes and I really like you. I mean, anyone who dresses like you can only be an interesting person to be around."
Kurt was glad he had slipped on his purple and black striped trench coat with the metal straps on it this morning.
"Well," said Kurt, basking in the praise. "Thank you. You seem like a very nice guy as well."
"Since we're in agreement," said Blaine with mirth. "Then why don't wet get to know each other a bit more? You know I got to art school, what about you?"
"I go to NYADA," said Kurt. The usual gushing tone he always seemed to get when talking about NYADA and school seeped into his voice. "It's amazing."
"So you're a singer?" asked Blaine. He looked even more interested, if possible. "I am too - though I ended up choosing art more than anything. I still am part of my choir at school, though."
"I am," said Kurt. "It's - it's all I ever wanted to be." He paused. "Well, except maybe taking a break after I win a few Tony Awards to start designing for Lady Gaga and the next Broadway revival of The Sound of Music." Blaine laughed. "I just really love to get on stage and sing my heart out," admitted Kurt. "And now that I'm finally in New York City, living out my dreams? It's amazing. I'm just really, honestly happy to be out of my home town. Though I miss my family."
Blaine was nodded as he spoke. "I understand. I just moved here a few months ago for school as well. It was amazing to get out of Ohio - it was so stifling, I felt like I couldn't breathe sometimes."
"Wait - Ohio?"
"Yes."
"I'm from Ohio."
Blaine blinked at him in shock for a long moment. "Wait - what?"
Kurt laughed. "Are you saying that both of us came from Ohio, wanting to come out to New York to fulfill our dreams?" Kurt rolled his eyes. "Here I thought I was unique."
"Hey now," said Blaine. "But yeah - I really am from Ohio. Wow. What part?"
"Lima," said Kurt.
"Westerville," said Blaine. "Oh wow - that's two hours away, isn't it?"
"It is," said Kurt, voice tinged with awe. "Wow. And we met in New York City of all places?"
"Must be fate," said Blaine cheekily. Kurt rolled his eyes.
"But we never crossed paths," said Kurt. "Strange."
"So," said Blaine. "You said you love it in New York already - now that I know you're from Ohio, I can definitely say I agree." He laughed.
"And what you said about Ohio being stifling - so true," said Kurt. "I mean, I couldn't truly be myself in high school. People hated me."
Blaine nodded, a sad expression on his face. "I can understand that. I ended up going to a private school, but I did start out in a public school and - well, kids can be cruel, especially when their ignorant parents are the ones that shape their thoughts."
Kurt nodded, giving Blaine another once over. "If you don't mind me asking," he said after a moment of deliberation. "Are you…gay?"
Blaine chuckled and for a moment, Kurt thought maybe he had gotten it wrong. "I am," he finally said, letting Kurt breathe again. "That's why - well, that's why New York has been pretty amazing so far. A lot more people willing to accept all sorts of people."
"I completely understand," said Kurt.
"So," said Blaine. "Tell me more about NYADA."
So they talked. About NYADA, about the art program Blaine was enrolled in. Kurt told him about his favorite classes, and favorite songs, and Blaine said he loved to paint the most, but that he really loved to sketch if nothing else. They realized they had a lot of the same tastes in music, gushing over this musical or that.
" - I don't care what you say, Katy Perry is not that much of a visionary."
"But Kurt - she is -"
"Hold that thought."
Kurt's phone was vibrating across the table and he picked it up, noting that Rachel was calling him.
"Hello?" he said.
"Where are you?"
"At the coffee shop," said Kurt, as if it was obvious. He almost always came here after classes to talk to Lauren.
"It's almost dinner, Kurt!"
"Oh my god - what?" Kurt pulled the phone away for a moment, looking down at the time. He and Blaine had been talking for almost an hour. He put the phone back up to his ear, a little surprised. "I'm so sorry, Rachel. I just - I got caught up and lost track of time. I'll be back soon. I can even pick up something. Your favorite Italian place, maybe?"
Rachel seemed mollified by the lure of that, and forgave him. He hung up and shook his head. "We've been talking for an hour," he said. "I should have left a while ago."
"Oh wow," said Blaine. "I'm sorry for keeping you like that."
"No, it was great, really," said Kurt, hoping to let his sincerity get across. "I really, really liked talking to you."
"Me, too," said Blaine with a soft grin. "Can I - can I have your number? Maybe we can meet up again. Chat more. Continue the Lady Gaga verus Katy Perry debate?"
"Like there is any real competition," said Kurt automatically, but he handed over his phone and accepted Blaine's. After he ended his phone number the switched back again and he rose from his chair, fixing his bag on his shoulder. "I guess - I guess I'll see you around," he said. He didn't want to leave, he realized.
"Yes," said Blaine. "Completely."
Kurt left the coffee shop, suddenly feeling lighter. He couldn't explain why, really, but talking to Blaine was the high light of his week.
( Part 2)
Word Count: 18,700
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slight and brief trigger warning for self harm.
Summary: AU - The “C” is a brilliant red. It twists and just as it comes up to start the “o” transitions into orange. The “o” in turn becomes a “u” and transitions to a bright yellow, then green, blue, indigo and finally ending with a violet “e.” The colors blend so flawlessly together, flow and work together to create the next letter, making the full work.
AN: Based on this photo for a prompt. Here are two designs by spcshp and thissugarsgonesour of the design I imagined:
(click here for larger)
-----
Kurt has barely been in New York City for a week and still gets easily distracted when he needs to travel to get somewhere. Everywhere there is something new to see. Tall buildings that seemed to reach forever, towards the skies, all sorts of people that Kurt is sure can't truly exist, because they were so colorful and out there, people that would never have been in Lima, Ohio in a million years; and bright lights and rushing sounds everywhere. It was different than when he and his Glee club had come for Nationals, because this was his home now. A thought he couldn't even begin to get his mind around.
This amazing, fast paced, place was his home now. He would be here for school for at least the next four years and after that he would be damned if he wasn't going to stay here. Just being here for a week, moving into his dorm room and finding his way around the city a bit, had convinced him: Kurt Hummel belonged in this city.
That wasn't to say he didn't miss his family. His dad called him three times this week already, asking him if he was settling in alright, and Kurt could hear in his voice how much he missed him. Kurt missed his dad, too. But he felt better knowing that Carole would be able to keep him company. If his dad hadn't met Carole when he was in high school, and eventually married her, Kurt wasn't sure what this move to college would have done to his dad. He needed someone. Now he had Carole and his job in Congress, two things the Kurt knew made him so happy.
So Kurt worked by his slight homesickness and had thrown himself into New York and into school. He had been accepted to NYADA, one of the best performing arts schools in the country. How he had gotten in and Rachel Berry hadn't, Kurt wasn't sure. Kurt knew how talented Rachel was, and back when they were younger, he had resented that. It was something he came to love about her, of course, and he knew that she was better than him in so many things… but she had choked.
So Rachel had gotten in last minute to NYU and would be trying to transfer to NYADA in the coming year. She wasn't going to let her New York dreams end so easily, even though she had originally gotten the ridiculous notion to marry Finn, Kurt's step-brother, right out of high school. They were still together, for now, and only engaged.
Together, he and Rachel had moved into a small apartment about 20 minutes away from both of their schools. Her dads and Kurt's dad had pitched in some money until they both got jobs and would help pay for it. Kurt was thankful that he wouldn't have to deal with a dorm or a roommate - for one, he wouldn't be able to decorate his room as he wanted in a dorm, and he didn't want to share a room, plain and simple.
So Kurt decorated his room and the more common areas of the apartment with Rachel, trying to make it their new home. He also was preparing for school as best he could. This was different than anything he had ever done, because it was college. It was everything Kurt wanted to do with his life - sing and perform.
Kurt was nervous.
Obviously he put up a brave front for Rachel and his dad when he called, but he was so scared. He had killed with his audition, but what if he didn't have what it took? He had gotten the lead of Tony his senior year, only because he had been the only person to try out for the role, even though he wasn't what the directors thought Tony should be. He had showed them, though, when he'd played a great Tony.
Even though he could have gone without kissing Rachel Berry in his life.
Despite all these thoughts, Kurt was still absolutely terrified that he would fail. Fail at school. Fail at his dream.
These are the things that clouded his mind as he took the subway two stops from his apartment, then pushed his way out into the street to walk the rest of the way. He'd been too fidgety on the train, a death grip on the strap of his bag and toes of his boots tapping on the dirty floor. Now that he was out in the open air, he took a deep breath and pushed forward. He was on a more secluded street, and for a few horrible minutes, he was sure he had gotten lost. He knew he should have done a dry run of his way to school so he didn't get lost, but yesterday had been filled with last minute decorations in the apartment and time got away from him.
After a few minutes, though, and checking his phone for his location, he knows he's only five minutes away from campus and takes a deep breath. Kurt slows down and looks around. It's a pretty nice neighborhood, all things considered. There is a few walls with graffiti, but that's so common here that Kurt just takes it all in now.
There is one side of a building where the wall is a smooth white expanse, or at least, the parts that aren't covered in brilliant colors. It's not a wall as filled as others Kurt has seen. There is a flag painted high on the right corner, both gender signs painted in the center and frozen in a nonexistent wind that makes Kurt stop and smile. There are a few unreadable words near the bottom that Kurt's eyes ghost over.
Then he sees it.
It takes up a lot of the wall and is in the very center, a few feet down from the gender flag. It's very simple, for a piece of wall art, Kurt thinks at first. It's just a word.
But it's absolutely beautiful and makes Kurt completely pause for a few moments. He walks closer to the wall, blinking up at the word and reading it over and over again.
Courage.
The word itself is written in an elegant script. Kurt doesn't even understand how someone could do something so beautiful on a huge canvas, probably in the middle of the night. What draws Kurt to the word, however, isn't how beautiful the handwriting is. It's the colors.
The "C" is a brilliant red. It twists and just as it comes up to start the "o" transitions into orange. The "o" in turn becomes a "u" and transitions to a bright yellow, then green, blue, indigo and finally ending with a violet "e." The colors blend so flawlessly together, flow and work together to create the next letter, making the full work.
A complete sentiment.
Kurt looks up at the word. He can't help but feel like the origins of the word, especially with the colors, are aimed to the LGBTQ community. If anything, it hits Kurt's heart swiftly and his eyes are tearing up before he can even fully recognize it.
The grip on Kurt's bag tightens even more as his eyes keep scanning the word, following the rise and fall of the letters like a lifeline. After a few moments, Kurt blinks, keeps his eyes shut.
This is what he needed. So long ago.
He needed this - he needed courage - when he was in the closest and terrified of coming out to his father and friends. He needed the push out back then, even though somehow, he had found that courage without the prompting.
He needed this when he was being pushed around by bullies, called names and physically abused everyday. He needed this every time a slushie was tossed into his face and the hot tears mixed with the cold ice dripping down his face.
Oh, how he needed this when David Karofsky kissed him in the locker room. When he threatened him and Kurt didn't have anyone to turn to. He had been so scared for that whole year, until finally, things had resolved themselves. Karofsky moved and Kurt never heard from him again, until later in his senior year, when he tried to kill himself after being outted. God, he needed courage then, too, because part of him had wanted to reach out to Karofsky, but he couldn't. All he could think of was the year before and the fear and couldn't bring himself to visit him in the hospital.
Kurt wonders what courage would have done for him, if he had this when he was high school.
His eyes open, looking up at the mural once more. He reaches up and wipes the tears from his cheeks as a small smile lifts the edges of his lips.
The point was that he had this now. Kurt knows that this is what he needed, especially today.
Kurt takes one more look at the word, then his watch, and realizes that he's going to be late. He rushes pass the word and makes it in time for his history of music class. He's anxious throughout the class, though not necessarily from nerves anymore. He finds his thoughts going back to the word on the wall. The class itself is interesting, and doesn't seem too difficult at first. The professor, too, is funny and engaging. Nothing like teachers at McKinley. Kurt leaves feeling more at ease about the actual education he's going to be getting into than ever before.
Kurt grabs a coffee from the school's café before going to his theatre 101 class, which is a two and a half hour work shop. That, too, is amazing, purely for the fact that the teacher gets them up and moving doing acting exercises. Kurt is laughing with other people in his class that he automatically clicks with. He hasn't done that with people since Glee club, and it feels like being home in the choir room again.
After class Kurt gets lunch with Amanda and Jimmy, two of the people from his class who he'd been partnered with. Amanda is from Texas and Jimmy from here in New York, and he likes to hear about their backgrounds before coming here to NYADA. Amanda, for instance, was in most all of her high school productions. Not all of them were starring roles, but she just liked to be involved in any way possible. Jimmy was in Glee club, like Kurt, and loved singing as much as he liked acting. Kurt couldn't believe how quickly they all fell into a comfortable conversation. Outside his Glee club, Kurt hadn't really been friends with anyone in high school.
The three of them parted after lunch and Kurt felt like he was floating as he made his way back home the same way he had come. As he neared the wall with the mural, he slowed.
Part of Kurt wondered if it had even been real. It seemed too good to really exist. But as he rounded the corner, there it was, as vibrant as ever. He looked up at it with a wide smile. He couldn't even describe the amazing feelings the word and vivid colors provoked.
Kurt pulled his phone from his pocket, raising and steadying it in his hands to snap a photo. Then, after taking one more look, turned to walk back to the subway.
000000
At first, Kurt only sets the photo as his phone background. It's a comforting thing to see whenever he hangs up with his dad or closes out of a text with his friends back home. He keeps the sentiment of the mural in the forefront of his mind.
In some ways, Kurt thinks that it's almost easier to be courageous here. For once in his life, Kurt doesn't stand out. It's a curiously good feeling. There are other people who are gay in his classes. He's not the only one "out" and proud. He even gets flirted with by a guy in his musical theory class, something that blows Kurt away at first and leaves him a blushing mess for at least ten minutes.
Even though Kurt is still fabulous (how could he not be?) in the way he dresses, other people around him put just as much effort into their appearance as well. They even recognize the labels and work Kurt puts into his outfits and they spend hours talking about fashions with each other.
For once, Kurt isn't the only one, and so it's easier to put himself on the line to make friends or be great in his classes. Courage fell into his lap.
Kurt still looks at the mural everyday on his way to school. It's like greeting an old friend at this point. A reminder for what his day should be like.
The photo finds its way onto the wallpaper of his laptop, as well, because Kurt is frankly in love with it at this point. It's everything that Kurt strives to do in his day to day life at this point. It's obviously worked out. Rachel asks him about it at one point. Kurt blushes and looks away for a moment.
"It's on this wall on my way to school," he says when she asked. "It just - I really like it."
"It is rather beautiful," Rachel had said and they had moved on. Kurt was glad for this. For some reason, the word and mural had become something personal for him. His own mantra, only between him and whoever had put the word upon the wall who knows how long ago.
Two weeks after school begins, Kurt is at a coffee shop close to school finishing up on some homework and sipping on a cup of coffee when he hears his name. He lifts his head up, surprised to see a familiar face.
"Oh," he said, blinking up at the larger girl. "Lauren Zizes?"
"The one and only, elfin," she said, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down. She puts her bag on the table, along with a camera case and a plate with a muffin.
"Wow," said Kurt, still a little surprised. He and Lauren hadn't ever been friends in high school, but he'd know her. He'd always admired (and feared) her for being the only girl on the wrestling team. Her parents had to sue the school, but hey, it had worked. "This is… strange. I didn't know you were going to New York after graduation."
"Of course not," she said. "And neither did I about you, because honestly, we didn't talk. I only joined the glee club that one time because Puckerman promised me seven minutes in heaven and Cadbury Eggs."
"Well," said Kurt. "We did appreciate it. We were a person short after all. Uh, what brought you to the city, then?" It was strange, being in New York with someone from Lima that wasn't Rachel.
"I got into a film school," said Lauren, brushing a few stray crumbs from her shirt. "For a while I was thinking about going into wrestling or getting a scholarship, but the moment you get hurt, you're out of luck. I liked the AV club a lot and so went for that instead."
"That's - that's actually really cool, Lauren," said Kurt. He did vaguely remember her being in the AV club with Artie, but he'd honestly never paid that much attention. "I'm going to NYADA for musical theatre."
"Of course you did twinkle toes," said Lauren. She said it with almost a mocking tone, but she was giving Kurt a genuine smile. "I gotta say, being out of Ohio has its perks, but seeing a familiar face from home is good, too."
"I agree," said Kurt, nodding enthusiastically. "I mean, I do live with Rachel Berry, but seeing another person from home is nice. If strange."
"Oh god, Rachel Berry," groaned Lauren. "Sorry, but if you bring her around here, I reserve the right to tape her mouth shut." A laugh bubbled up before he could stop it. There had been times since moving in with Rachel that Kurt had thought the same thing, honestly.
Kurt didn't question that Lauren has basically said there would be more meetings between them, either. Because she was right: it was nice to see a friendly familiar face here in this city that sometimes Kurt felt lost in, though he loved being here.
The first day, conversation was stilled. They brought up the past more often than not, comparing what teachers they liked and hated in high school. Certain students that they both disliked. Moments they remembered from the four years they had been in school together without really speaking. But it was actually fun, in its own way. It was probably one of the first times Kurt looked back on his high school experience with nostalgia.
" - Puckerman ended up being a horrible kisser, though, so that was a bust," said Lauren, as they had gotten onto relationships in high school for some reason. "I wouldn't have minded having a boyfriend in high school, but Puck just wasn't the guy at all. But there is this guy in my film studies class that is a fox."
"Hmm," said Kurt, finishing his coffee. "I wish I could have had a boyfriend in high school," he said, voice dropping. "But…"
"We went to Homophobic High, you can say it," said Lauren, as blunt as always. "It sucked that you couldn't get ass back in Ohio, because frankly, I'd hit that harder than the might fist of God if you swung in my direction."
Kurt's faced burned at Lauren's words, sputtering and looking down at the table. "Wow."
"It's true," said Lauren with a shrug. "You are hot, Hummel. Any gay guy would be stupid not to see that. You can't tell me you haven't gotten some looks since coming here."
"Well," said Kurt. "I do get flirted with in one of my classes by this guy - but he hasn't tried to ask me out or anything. And there have been some appreciative glances to my jeans that have absolutely nothing to do with my jeans. But like I said, nobody has actually asked me out. That's what matters, right?"
"Just you wait," said Lauren, taking a sip of her tea. "You'll be beating off all the Ricky Martins in this city with a stick in no time."
From there, Kurt and Lauren actually become something like friends. They exchange numbers and meet up for coffee and lunches often. Lauren ends up roping him and a few of his friends from NYADA for a project she needs to film. Obviously they are all completely up for it, because it helps them with their acting and being around a camera. Rachel is skeptical when he mentions Lauren to her, but doesn't push to meet up with her, which he knows Lauren appreciates. Kurt doesn't ever want to know if she's serious or not about the duct tape thing. (She probably is). Which is why Kurt doesn't want to risk them being in a room together for long.
It's something that grounds Kurt more. Lauren becomes a part of his schedule quickly. This mostly involves school and very little outside partying, because honestly, Kurt is just not in to that sort of thing. He does enjoy going out on the town once and a while, mostly because it's Lauren that ends up demanding they go out. She gets them into bars with fake IDs, once even taking them to a gay bar where Kurt feels uncomfortable and on display. Lauren thinks it's a blast, though.
Besides Rachel and the word on the back of the building wall, Lauren is the most constant and comforting thing he's found in New York. It makes the transition into the life of the city that much easier.
Before Kurt realizes how much time has passed, he's been in school for a little over a month. The city is turning colder everyday, which Kurt loves, because it's an excuse to break out all his scarves and layers especially on cold mornings.
Kurt walks into the coffee shop that he and Lauren usually frequent one morning, unwrapping his scarf slightly. He spots Lauren and waves, grabbing his own coffee and sitting in front of her. Without preamble, Lauren proclaims, "I'm getting at tattoo."
Kurt almost chokes on his coffee.
"What?" he asked, still a little surprised.
"A tattoo, god, it's not the most shocking thing in the world," said Lauren.
"It's just - I never knew you wanted one."
"I've been thinking about it for a while now," said Lauren. She shrugged nonchalantly.
"What did you want to get?" asked Kurt. He'd never really thought about the concept of a tattoo that much before - he'd always thought that they would be tacky.
"You know the antique film count down?" asked Lauren. "That spins around and counts down from 10 or 5?"
"For old movies?" asked Kurt. "Yeah, I know it. You want that?"
"Yes," said Lauren. "Just the number '1', though. Right on my shoulder. I've wanted it for years, honestly. My parents were never really that thrilled on the idea, though, so I decided against it. But I was thinking the other day and thought, what the hell, I got some money saved up for it and I'm an adult. I can do what I want."
"I guess you're right," said Kurt. "I mean, if you're sure? They are pretty permanent after all."
"Really, I had no idea."
"You know what I mean," said Kurt.
Lauren sighed. "I'm sure. I want this. I'm going whether or not you want to come with."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"Yeah. Moral support and all that," said Lauren. "And what if the tattoo guy is weird? I don't want to be stuck in an awkward silence the whole time."
"Of course I'll come with you," said Kurt. "When did you want to do it?"
"This weekend," said Lauren. "I was asking around and there was a guy in my class that has a lot of tattoos that recommended a place. They're super clean and reliable. He likes their artists, too."
"Well then," said Kurt. "I guess sooner is better than later."
A few days later, Kurt finds himself in the first tattoo parlor that he's ever been in. Since he's never really thought about a tattoo before, he'd never thought he'd find himself in one. When he'd mentioned to Rachel that he was going with Lauren to get a tattoo, she'd nearly fainted. Kurt had quickly explained that he was going for moral support.
"You nearly gave me a heart attack," said Rachel. "Good god, Kurt."
It wasn't everything that Kurt had expected. It was nicely lit and most of the walls were covered with tattoo designs and photos of what had to be previous customers. The tattoo artists weren't what Kurt had expected, either. The stereotype of big burly guys with tattoo sleeves were wrong, and Kurt should have none better since he was always the stereotype as well.
The person giving Lauren here tattoo was actually a woman. She had a few tattoos on her arm and legs, which Kurt had to admit were quite tasteful. She was friendly and introduced herself as Jean. After Lauren told Jean what she wanted, she did a quick sketch and Lauren said she loved it. They went back to get Lauren's shoulder cleaned off before she put gloves on and started.
Kurt stood next to Lauren for the first ten minutes. A bit of the pain showed itself in Lauren's face at first, but it seemed to fade after a while. Kurt started to drift away from Lauren after her insistence that he look around and not get too bored. Her tattoo wasn't too big and wouldn't take that long, but it would still be a while.
So Kurt looked around at all the photos for a while. There were the usual: roses and dragons, some "tramp stamps" and others that were actually quite unique. At some point, maybe thirty minutes into the tattoo, Kurt came across a part of a wall completely devoted to handwriting tattoos.
They were all so different. Some where of neat script, others of cursive, other still quite messy and looked like a child's handwriting. Those were mostly on mothers and fathers, by the looks of it. That tugged at Kurt's heart, especially.
He'd definitely been quick to judge that tattoos were all tacky.
Kurt really liked the handwriting tattoos. He read them all. Some were single words, others full sentences. Sentiments of love and dreaming, of believing and others of just names. They were all sorts of different colors. Some plain and others bright.
As he read the tattoos, something tugged at him for a while. They looked familiar, in a way. Not familiar, just similar.
Then Kurt realized that they reminded him of the "Courage" mural.
Kurt thought about the word he'd seen so much at this point, it was like an old friend. The handwriting Kurt liked most, even out of the dozens on the wall in front of him. It was neat, but pretty. Definitely readable. The colors, too, were nice. They weren't plain, but they also were too much. They would actually look really nice against pale skin…
Kurt pulled out his phone, opening his screen and looking at the close up of the mural. Then he looked up at a particular tattoo photo. This one was of a girl's wrist with the word "Dreamer" written in black ink. Kurt liked the placement a lot. It was a place that could be easily covered with a long sleeved shirt if needed. Kurt looked down at his own wrist, bare and creamy white.
In this moment, Kurt realized his heart was beating frantically and his stomach flipped with the realization.
He was actually thinking about getting a tattoo.
When it finally hit him, Kurt actually paused to think about it for a moment.
Did he actually want something permanently inked onto his body? Something that, if he wanted to remove, would be just as painful as when it was put on?
And the pain.
Lauren seemed to be handling it fine. She and Jean were even joking back and forth. But Lauren could probably handle pain more than Kurt.
But the word "courage" was much smaller than her tattoo. It wouldn't take as long, though the wrist was no doubt more painful than the shoulder.
In a way, maybe the pain would be worth it.
Kurt closed his eyes and thought back to all the times when he'd wished he'd had courage the face things. That had been painful, certainly. The pain of knowing that he wasn't doing something he should, or the pain of withstanding the bullying he'd faced. Even facing up to his bullies had been painful. Following through with courage, that was painful, too. It could hurt.
But it was worth it.
Kurt's wrist started to itch, the skin prickling. It hadn't done that in over a year. Not since his low points.
There had been times that Kurt had stared down at his wrists, the skin itching and prickling uncomfortably (just like now), and he'd thought: "Why didn't he just press something sharp against the skin there to stop the itch?"
Those were the lowest points. They'd fled quickly, because Kurt wasn't that big of a coward. He didn't want to be one of the gay teen statistics. He knew that other people felt pain like he did, and he didn't want to make their pain less, but that wasn't for him. He didn't want to cut himself. But the low points -
But a constant reminder on his skin to always have courage? To never sink that low or even consider that sort of action? The thought was just as comforting as the word, painted in such beautiful colors.
Which brought him to the subject of the potential tattoo. Did he want it on his skin forever?
Lauren's tattoo was a part of her life, like singing was to Kurt. So of course she wanted on her body forever. Did Kurt want this word, this art, on him?
The answer was yes, almost right away. The word itself Kurt identified. Paired with the rainbow coloring, it was all that Kurt was. He identified with gay, and he was so proud of that. He was planning on participating in Pride one day and yes, he would put together a fabulous outfit in all the colors of the rainbow when he did.
So this was it. Kurt was suddenly and completely convinced.
He walked back over to Lauren. He looked at her tattoo, which looked almost completed. He waited silently for Jean to finish up and put a bandage over it. Jean looked up at him, smiling. "What do you think? I'm sure she wants some feedback from her friend." His heart beat wildly.
"I love it," he said. "It's really amazing."
"Hell yeah it is," said Lauren. She winced slightly as she stood up, making an effort not to move her arm.
"Actually," said Kurt, pushing through and, not even the least bit ironically, summoning all the courage he had. "I wanted to get a tattoo as well."
"What?"
Kurt looked at Lauren for a moment, a small smile on his face.
"Really now?" asked Jean.
"Yes," he said. He pulled his phone out again and handed it to her. "It's this design. I wanted it on my wrist, about an inch down?"
"Hmmm." Jean looked down at the photo. "The colors and all?"
"Especially the colors." Kurt let out a breath. "It's been an important part of my life lately - can you do it?"
"Actually, Manuel is the best at handwriting tattoos," said Jean. "He's in the back. I'll go get him for you, if that's okay?"
"Yeah, of course."
Jean disappeared in the back, leaving Kurt and Lauren by themselves.
"Okay, when did this happen?" asked Lauren. "When the hell did you decide you wanted a tattoo?"
"Uh, kind of ten minutes ago," said Kurt. "I mean, the design is something I've loved for a while, but it didn't occur to me until just now. I've never really had an opinion either way on tattoos, honestly. But this seems - it seems right."
"Let me see the design," said Lauren. Kurt handed the phone to her and she looked down, taking in the photo. A look of understanding dawned on her. She nodded and handed the phone back. "I can dig that."
"I've never done something like this before," Kurt admitted as he took back his phone and started to fiddle with it. "I mean, I usually plan things more - I'm not this, uh…"
"Spur of the moment?" suggested Lauren.
"Yes," said Kurt.
"I think a bit of spontaneity will be good for you, Hummel," said Lauren, patting him on the back with so much force that he stumbled. She didn't always know her own strength, or maybe knew and purposefully ignored that she knew. "You're an adult now, in New York City and living the life - you should do something crazy once and a while."
Lauren's words made Kurt's heart beat faster. There was no question - he was doing this.
Jean returned, a tall Latino man with her. He leaned over, introducing himself as Manuel. Kurt said his name with a nervous tone.
"First tattoo?" asked Manuel, the right side of his mouth raising up in a smile.
"Both of them," said Jean. "Lauren here just got hers, but like I told you, Kurt wants a handwriting tattoo on his wrist."
"Yes, let me see what you wanted - Jean said you had a photo," said Manuel. Kurt handed the phone over once more. Manuel stared at it for a long moment, nodding. "Let me just do my own sketch of this, Kurt," he said.
Kurt watched as Manuel drew out the mural, a complete replica of the one he passed everyday on his way to school. Then Manuel did another, this time with the colors. He asked if this was what Kurt wanted and he nodded.
"Why don't you sit down," said Manuel. "I'll get all the colors prepped."
Kurt sat and Lauren asked him if he wanted her close. "Maybe for a few minutes when it starts?" asked Kurt. "Like I did for you. Then you can walk around or just sit somewhere."
The preparation was similar to Lauren's. Kurt was nervous, because he knew it would hurt and he still couldn't believe he was doing this. "Which arm?" Manuel asked. Kurt thought about it for a few moments and held out his left. It would be more out of the way when it was healing, after all.
"You ready?" Manuel asked. Kurt nodded. Manuel's gloved hand came out, pressing a little amount of pressure to the sides of Kurt's wrist as he adjusted it out on the table in front of him. Kurt eyed the needle and the ink he'd set out, already curious as to how the red would look on his pale skin.
"Yes," said Kurt.
The first moment the needle touched his skin, Kurt winced. It felt what it was - a needle suddenly pricking out, but over and over again. It was uncomfortable, and a little painful. Mostly, Kurt began to get annoyed with it. Usually you could stop a painful thing from happening, but this was constant. It stung, but mostly, it wasn't absolutely horrible.
After five minutes, Lauren began to drift away from him. Kurt didn't mind. He liked to endure things in silence mostly.
"So, why this tattoo?" asked Manuel. It surprised Kurt that he'd started to talk. He was changing from red to orange now. Manuel smiled. "I like to hear the stories behind tattoos, especially handwriting. I have my own."
"What's yours?"
"Familia. It's on my back. Then I have the names of all my family members under that."
"That's sweet," said Kurt. "I….well, the photo is from this mural. I pass it everyday on my way to school. The first time I saw it, I cried, because - it was exactly what I needed." Kurt's voice had dropped slightly and he followed Manuel's actions as he continued with the tattoo. It didn't even look like he was listening, really, but Kurt was sure he was. He looked completely intent on his worked.
"I haven't been the most courageous person in my life, I don't think," said Kurt. "But with this - I started to feel like I could be, lately. And the fact that it was written in rainbow colors…"
"LGBTQ?" asked Manuel. He paused, looking up with a smile.
Kurt hesitated for a moment. The man was giving him a tattoo, after all, and what if he was just as insensitive as the people he'd grown up with? New York City might have been more accepting on a whole, but there was always the exception.
"Yes," Kurt finally decided. It was probably painfully obvious, after all.
Manuel nodded and leaned back down, continuing with his work. "I thought so. It's a beautiful design. I'm sure the artist would be infinitely proud that someone was putting it on their skin and that he touched you enough for that."
"I would hope so," said Kurt. "I mean, I don't know the artist, obviously. But sometimes - sometimes I feel like maybe I do. I feel so connect to this mural, and the things I feel when I look at it, sometimes I feel like we're the same person." Kurt chuckled, feeling self conscious. He'd never said these things out loud before.
"I understand," said Manuel. "You can become connected to things without any explainable reasoning. Me? I feel connected to someone whenever I give a new tattoo. A person is going to be carrying around what I just put on them for the rest of their life. That can be a heavy feeling, sometimes."
"I'm sure," said Kurt.
"It's just like any other art form," said Manuel. "Sometimes we're just transposing someone else's art, like in this case, other times it's our own unique design. We put our soul into it."
"I feel the same about singing," said Kurt. "It's the best feeling when I can put everything into a song or a performance, leave all other things behind and just get lost in music and words."
"You're a singer?"
"I am. I go to NYADA."
"That's a nice school," he remarked. "This your first year?"
"It is. I can't believe I'm finally in New York. It's where I've always wanted to be. I grew up in Ohio and well, that's why I needed courage in the first place." Kurt laughed with a bitter edge to it. "Being the only out guy in my school wasn't pretty. But being here? It's been so amazing."
"Obviously I've only known you for twenty minutes," said Manuel, a wide grin on his face. "But I think you have more courage than you say you do, Kurt."
Kurt couldn't really come up with a response to that. He wasn't so sure, but then, was getting a tattoo out of the blue courageous or just really stupid?
Manuel was only two letters from the end of the tattoo. The colors did look fantastic, though Kurt's skin was red and inflamed from the needle. He knew that would fade with time and heal, making the tattoo stand out more. Kurt especially liked the blue and the look on his skin.
With the conversation Manuel had provided, Kurt had forgotten about the pain for the most part. It was almost numb to him by now, a dull throbbing on his left arm, though a few times a sharp pain would interrupt and make him wince.
Finally, Manuel finished the 'e' and Kurt looked down in awe.
He had a tattoo.
It was beautiful, so much like the mural was. Each letter of the word twisted into each other, colors fading effortlessly into the next.
"Wow," breathed Kurt. "Thank you."
"It was my pleasure," said Manuel as he began to clean up. He bandaged Kurt's tattoo, but not without taking a quick photo for the wall.
Both Kurt and Lauren paid for their tattoos - Lauren's was a bit more than his, since it was bigger - and Kurt made sure to leave a good tip for Manuel. He was nice, and had done a great job of distracting Kurt from the pain.
He and Lauren walked out of the tiny shop into the brisk air and Kurt was positively vibrating with the adrenaline of what had just happened. His wrist throbbed still, but there was the promise of it being completely healed in two weeks, and the fact that he could carry the reminder of who he was and who he wanted to be around always.
"We need to celebrate," said Kurt. "Let's get something amazing for lunch."
"I hear you," said Lauren.
They celebrated their tattoos with lunch and then grabbed coffee to go, parting ways to go to their own apartments. Kurt walked into his front door, humming absently and taking the last sip to his non fat mocha.
"How did Lauren's tattoo go?" asked Rachel from her spot on the living room couch.
Kurt stopped in his tracks, a burst of fear running through his veins.
He hadn't even thought about Rachel.
"Uh…."
"What? Did she chicken out?"
Kurt snorted. "It's Lauren."
"True," said Rachel, smiling up from her book. Kurt began to take his scarf and coat off, wondering how to tell Rachel that not only had Lauren gotten a tattoo, but so had he. Then Rachel's eyes dropped from his face to his left arm. Kurt looked down, realizing that the bandage was visible now that his coat wasn't on.
Damn quarter sleeved shirts.
At least he didn't have to tell her.
"Kurt Hummel, you did not."
"I just - I felt like - I really wanted -" Kurt couldn't even begin to verbalize what had happened today. How he knew that he wanted the tattoo in the first place. How he knew that it was what he needed.
"But your acting!" she screeched. "Sometimes tattoos make casting directors look the other direction! Kurt -"
"But it's small," said Kurt. "It can be covered so easily, by make up or a sleeve. It will be fine, Rachel."
"I can't believe," huffed Rachel. "That you got a tattoo and didn't even bring me for moral support."
Well, that was a sudden change of direction.
"Well," said Kurt. "I hadn't planned on it at all. I'm sorry."
Rachel sighed, still eyeing his wrist. "What did you get?"
Kurt wordlessly pulled out his phone and handed it to her. He had also taken a photo of his tattoo before the bandage had gone one. Rachel looked and in a moment the angry lines on her face disappeared, eyes softening. She looked up at her, a small smile forming.
"I think my dads would love to see this one day," she said, handing back the phone. A bigger smile came to Kurt's face. He was glad she approved, for whatever reason.
"I'll have to show it to them next time we're home," he said.
Rachel and Kurt smiled at each other for a long moment. Then Rachel blinked once, a strange expression coming over her face, then she laughed. Hard.
"What?" asked Kurt.
"I wonder what Burt will say," she said with a small giggle.
Kurt's heart jumped and he groaned.
He wasn't looking forward to that conversation in the least.
000000
Kurt's tattoo healed and he ended up telling his father around the time he took the bandage off on their weekly phone calls. Burt, at first, thought he was kidding, but he quickly realized that he wasn't. After that, Burt was mostly confused.
"I never knew you wanted one, kiddo," he said.
"I didn't," said Kurt. "Until I found exactly the thing I wanted." Kurt had described the tattoo to Burt and promised to send a picture of it to Finn's phone so he could in turn show it to Burt (since he had the simplest phone on the market and so no picture messaging). After Kurt had told him about why he wanted it, and what it meant to him, Burt seemed pacified.
"Well," Burt said slowly. "If it's what you wanted - just promise me you won't go out and cover your body in 'em, okay?"
Kurt laughed. "Oh, believe me," said Kurt. "I think this is all I ever want."
So time moved on. Kurt was still learning so much more at NYADA and making more friends. A few ended up coming to lunch and coffee with Lauren a couple times. Rachel, too, seemed to be adjusting to the city with flying colors.
After Kurt's tattoo healed completely, he loved looking down at it. It would catch his eye as he worked, still foreign looking n his body, and he would pause and smile. It was like when he saw the mural day after day on his way to school - it served as a reminder. It was beautiful, and Kurt didn't regret getting it in the least, as he thought he might with such a rash decision.
Kurt only wished that it wasn't the dead of winter in New York. He had to keep it covered at most times with a coat or long sleeved shirt. Kurt had always loved this season the most, because his usual layered look was actually quite functional, but now he just wanted to show off his tattoo. He was able to in classes some times, when his coat was off and he pushed up his sleeves for whatever reason, but this was the extent.
It wouldn't be long, however, until he was able to show it off. Wear quarter or short sleeved shirts and wear the tattoo with pride, like he wanted to.
It was the second week of November that Kurt trudged into his and Lauren's usual coffee shop, coat wrapped around himself. He looked around the shop, frowning when he didn't see Lauren. Her class got out ten minutes before his own and she was always here before him.
Kurt texted her as he got into line, asking where she was. He got the answer a few seconds later.
Sorry bro - I have to stay late to edit. See you tomorrow.
Kurt frowned at his phone and sighed, pocketing it after a moment. He'd wanted to tell Lauren what had happened in his class today. Well, he'd just get his coffee, warm up a bit, and continue home early.
After a few moments, Kurt stepped up to order. "A granda non fat mocha?" he said, digging into his jeans for his wallet.
"Don't bother," said the barista. "The guy in front of you said he would cover your drink." She was smiling at him, eyes sparkling.
"Wait - what?"
"He's right over there," she said, pointing to a table a few feet away. Kurt looked over, still a little surprised. He followed her gaze, eyes falling on a boy around his age. He had dark hair that was styled with gel, a red cardigan on with checkered shirt under it, and a bowtie. He glanced up as Kurt looked over to him and smiled, raising his glass in Kurt's direction. Kurt blushed and turned back to the barista, who had his coffee ready.
"Thank you," he said. She giggled and nodded.
Kurt stepped out of line, not sure what to do. Should he leave? Go over and say thank you? Sit down with the boy?
Finally, Kurt pushed himself to go over to the boy - he was cute. And damn if he didn't have the courage to flirt with a boy who had just bought him coffee for at least a few minutes.
"Hi," said Kurt as he stepped up to the table. He noticed that the boy had a sketch book on the table in front of him, along with a row of pens and pencils. His coffee was steaming next to a plate of biscotti and one of the big cookies that looked like a Thanksgiving Turkey.
He looked up, a goofy grin on his face. "Hi."
"I just - I wanted to say thanks." Kurt awkwardly lifted his cup for a moment. "I don't know why you did it, though. Buy my coffee."
"I heard you sigh behind me," said the boy. "And looked to see you staring at your phone like it personally offended you. You looked sad. I wanted to make your day better." He shrugged.
"Oh," said Kurt, blinking at him. "I - thank you. Again. My friend sort of bailed on me."
"Would you like to sit with me?" asked the boy after a moment of hesitation. He looked nervous for the first moment since the beginning of their conversation.
"I don't want to interrupt -"
"It's not interrupting," said the boy. "I can't draw until I've finished my food, after all, so I'd love to chat for a while." He smiled. "I'm having a bit of artist block anyway."
"Oh." Kurt paused for a moment, then he pulled the chair out across from the boy.
"I'm Blaine, by the way," he said, holding out his hand for Kurt.
Kurt wanted to laugh, because really, who their age held out a hand to shake when they first met? Instead he smiled and held out his own hand. Blaine's hand was rough and still a little cold from outside. "Kurt."
"It's nice to meet you," said Blaine. He reached for his biscotti, dipping it in his coffee before taking a small bite. "Did your friend give a reason for bailing?" he asked, mouth a little full.
Kurt sighed. "She's a film student. Had to do some editing for something. Probably the project she's been talking about non-stop. It's okay. I was just going to go home and maybe get some work done."
Blaine smiled. "I should get work done, too. But like I said - block."
"I didn't know that you could get, uh, drawing block. I've heard of writer's block."
"Oh yes," said Blaine. "It's a sickness."
Kurt laughed, then looked down at his coffee.
"Would you like to split my cookie?"
"What?" he asked, looking up. Blaine had pushed the plate toward him.
"Well, the biscotti is what I always get, but then the cookie looked so good," said Blaine. "But then I sat down and realized that I ordered way too much. And dinner is in just a few hours." He laughed.
"I - I don't want to -"
"Kurt," said Blaine, tone serious. "Really. It's fine."
"I guess," said Kurt finally. "If it's just going to go to waste if I don't." The smile on Blaine's face shouldn't have pleased Kurt as much as it did in that moment.
They sat for a few silent moments as Kurt broke off a piece of the cookie and began to eat. His eyes drifted down Blaine's form, studying him. Then Blaine's eyes came up from his plate, meeting Kurt's, and he blushed.
"So," said Kurt in a rush. "You're an artist? Are you any good?"
Kurt wanted to face palm. God, that was so stupid.
"I mean - I'm sure you are - I just mean - uh -"
Blaine was laughing. "Kurt, it's okay." Then he shrugged. "I don't know. I'm in art school right now. So I guess I'm okay, then?"
"Well," said Kurt. "I'm sure you're great. I would ask to see your stuff, but I did just meet you and don't want to seem rude."
Blaine was still smiling, looking at him with an almost fond expression. His eyes sparkled with mirth and again, Kurt didn't know why he liked that he'd caused this reaction.
"I usually don't show my art readily," said Blaine with a nod. "I'm a little shy with some stuff. I'm trying to get better at it, honest." He laughed, looking down at his coffee as he stirred in another biscotti. He shrugged again - it must be a nervous habit - and looked up. "Maybe after we've known each other longer."
"Oh, 'known each other longer', then," said Kurt with a mischievous tone. "There will be more of these interactions, then?"
Blaine's eyes widened and his expression fell. "I just - oh god, I didn't mean to like, insinuate that - I just -"
"I'm sorry," said Kurt. "I didn't mean to freak you out. I just -" Kurt paused, trying to search for the right words. "I don't usually do this."
"Do what?" asked Blaine.
"Chat up guys in a coffee shop," said Kurt, embarrassed. "Or get coffee bought for. Or strike up conversations with complete strangers that make me want to have more with them."
The right edge of Blaine's mouth started to rise. "So you do want to have more?"
"Yes," said Kurt. Then he paused, taking in Blaine's full grin. "Wait - you tricked me."
"I did." Blaine looked pleased with himself. He chuckled and then brought his arm up to rest his chin on his hand. "Look, Kurt, I have known you for all of five minutes and I really like you. I mean, anyone who dresses like you can only be an interesting person to be around."
Kurt was glad he had slipped on his purple and black striped trench coat with the metal straps on it this morning.
"Well," said Kurt, basking in the praise. "Thank you. You seem like a very nice guy as well."
"Since we're in agreement," said Blaine with mirth. "Then why don't wet get to know each other a bit more? You know I got to art school, what about you?"
"I go to NYADA," said Kurt. The usual gushing tone he always seemed to get when talking about NYADA and school seeped into his voice. "It's amazing."
"So you're a singer?" asked Blaine. He looked even more interested, if possible. "I am too - though I ended up choosing art more than anything. I still am part of my choir at school, though."
"I am," said Kurt. "It's - it's all I ever wanted to be." He paused. "Well, except maybe taking a break after I win a few Tony Awards to start designing for Lady Gaga and the next Broadway revival of The Sound of Music." Blaine laughed. "I just really love to get on stage and sing my heart out," admitted Kurt. "And now that I'm finally in New York City, living out my dreams? It's amazing. I'm just really, honestly happy to be out of my home town. Though I miss my family."
Blaine was nodded as he spoke. "I understand. I just moved here a few months ago for school as well. It was amazing to get out of Ohio - it was so stifling, I felt like I couldn't breathe sometimes."
"Wait - Ohio?"
"Yes."
"I'm from Ohio."
Blaine blinked at him in shock for a long moment. "Wait - what?"
Kurt laughed. "Are you saying that both of us came from Ohio, wanting to come out to New York to fulfill our dreams?" Kurt rolled his eyes. "Here I thought I was unique."
"Hey now," said Blaine. "But yeah - I really am from Ohio. Wow. What part?"
"Lima," said Kurt.
"Westerville," said Blaine. "Oh wow - that's two hours away, isn't it?"
"It is," said Kurt, voice tinged with awe. "Wow. And we met in New York City of all places?"
"Must be fate," said Blaine cheekily. Kurt rolled his eyes.
"But we never crossed paths," said Kurt. "Strange."
"So," said Blaine. "You said you love it in New York already - now that I know you're from Ohio, I can definitely say I agree." He laughed.
"And what you said about Ohio being stifling - so true," said Kurt. "I mean, I couldn't truly be myself in high school. People hated me."
Blaine nodded, a sad expression on his face. "I can understand that. I ended up going to a private school, but I did start out in a public school and - well, kids can be cruel, especially when their ignorant parents are the ones that shape their thoughts."
Kurt nodded, giving Blaine another once over. "If you don't mind me asking," he said after a moment of deliberation. "Are you…gay?"
Blaine chuckled and for a moment, Kurt thought maybe he had gotten it wrong. "I am," he finally said, letting Kurt breathe again. "That's why - well, that's why New York has been pretty amazing so far. A lot more people willing to accept all sorts of people."
"I completely understand," said Kurt.
"So," said Blaine. "Tell me more about NYADA."
So they talked. About NYADA, about the art program Blaine was enrolled in. Kurt told him about his favorite classes, and favorite songs, and Blaine said he loved to paint the most, but that he really loved to sketch if nothing else. They realized they had a lot of the same tastes in music, gushing over this musical or that.
" - I don't care what you say, Katy Perry is not that much of a visionary."
"But Kurt - she is -"
"Hold that thought."
Kurt's phone was vibrating across the table and he picked it up, noting that Rachel was calling him.
"Hello?" he said.
"Where are you?"
"At the coffee shop," said Kurt, as if it was obvious. He almost always came here after classes to talk to Lauren.
"It's almost dinner, Kurt!"
"Oh my god - what?" Kurt pulled the phone away for a moment, looking down at the time. He and Blaine had been talking for almost an hour. He put the phone back up to his ear, a little surprised. "I'm so sorry, Rachel. I just - I got caught up and lost track of time. I'll be back soon. I can even pick up something. Your favorite Italian place, maybe?"
Rachel seemed mollified by the lure of that, and forgave him. He hung up and shook his head. "We've been talking for an hour," he said. "I should have left a while ago."
"Oh wow," said Blaine. "I'm sorry for keeping you like that."
"No, it was great, really," said Kurt, hoping to let his sincerity get across. "I really, really liked talking to you."
"Me, too," said Blaine with a soft grin. "Can I - can I have your number? Maybe we can meet up again. Chat more. Continue the Lady Gaga verus Katy Perry debate?"
"Like there is any real competition," said Kurt automatically, but he handed over his phone and accepted Blaine's. After he ended his phone number the switched back again and he rose from his chair, fixing his bag on his shoulder. "I guess - I guess I'll see you around," he said. He didn't want to leave, he realized.
"Yes," said Blaine. "Completely."
Kurt left the coffee shop, suddenly feeling lighter. He couldn't explain why, really, but talking to Blaine was the high light of his week.
( Part 2)