Fic: Day of Silence, Kurt (part 1)
Prompt: Kurt gets the Glee club to participate [in Day of Silence]. Day of Silence, for those unaware, students going all day without speaking to memoralize/draw attention to others in the past who have been bullied, judged for their sexuality, or generally never had their voices heard. Would love to see how the gleekers are affected by the experience.
Genre: friendship
Rating: T/borderline M
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Please note that Kurt's entire chapter is a whopping 18,395 words, so it has been broken into parts.
Author's Note: Because I'm not quite ready to say goodbye to this story, if you have any requests for an add-on to this story, ask and you shall receive!
Enjoy!
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Kurt was used to Day of Silence being the worst day of the year.
It had been like that ever since he started participating. At first people hadn’t known what he was doing, but unfortunately everyone in the building had access to a computer at some point in the day. By the time school had ended, it seemed like everyone knew what Day of Silence was for. Eighth graders elbowed him out of the way more than they usually did while the rest of the seventh grade class pretended not to see him. (The exception being Rachel Berry, who stared at him with big, pity-filled doe eyes from across the hall.) Even some of the sixth graders plucked up enough courage to laugh at him. And in Lima, no sixth grader ever laughs at a seventh grader.
Eighth grade hadn’t been much better. He had been thrown in the dumpster and they had actually shut the lid on top of him. To cap it all off, there was either some idiot sitting on top of it or something, because he couldn’t for the life of him get it back open. Kurt was almost positive that his prolonged stay in the dumpster that day made him mildly claustrophobic.
At least in ninth grade nobody had tossed him in the dumpster. Sure, he had been pinned down and had obscene words and a penis drawn on his face, but at least they hadn’t shut him in the janitor’s closet or something. Sharpie could be scrubbed off. Claustrophobia was a bigger problem.
So Kurt was already mentally prepared for whatever was going to happen to him this year. He had started shutting himself in his closet at home in an attempt to get over his claustrophobia in case there was a repeat of eighth grade. (Finn’s confused remark of, “Kurt… I think everyone already knows you’re gay, so you can come out now,” had helped significantly.) He took special care during his nighttime skin care routine, knowing that he might get drawn on again.
But something that was going to be different this time was that he wouldn’t be doing it alone. He was going to have thirteen other people doing it with him, including his almost-step-brother. Kurt would feel all sappy and cliché admitting it, but the fact that Finn would be doing it too meant more than everyone else combined. After Finn had blown up at him, they had both realized that they needed to be painfully honest with each other if they were ever going to end up with a healthy, brotherly relationship.
They had done just that, Kurt prefacing almost every criticism of Finn’s wardrobe with, “I swear this isn’t me trying to get you naked, but…” Finn would yell, “Personal space!” if Kurt ever started getting too close for comfort, and eventually they got all their feelings out in the open. Sometimes things were a little weird, but Kurt could confidently say that he now saw Finn as nothing more than a friend and any love he had for the boy had turned strictly brotherly in nature.
Kurt decided to talk with Finn about Day of Silence before they went to bed the night before. Finn always came down late, having taken quite the fancy to watching as much TV as he could on their 55-inch screen. Kurt waited until Finn finished in the bathroom, then cleared his throat and asked, “Can I talk to you?”
Finn slipped into his own bed, turning to he was facing Kurt. “Sure. What’s up?”
Kurt copied Finn, turning so he was lying on his side. “Are you sure you’re okay with not talking tomorrow?” He could make out Finn’s outline in the darkness of their room, giving himself a moment to revel in how strange it felt, being in his dark bedroom with the boy he used to have a crush on.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Finn’s tone suggested that he was surprised Kurt was asking.
“I just don’t want you to do it feeling like you have to,” Kurt said quickly. “Mr. Schue did kind of spring it on all of you, and as much as I appreciate the team spirit, I don’t want any of you getting hurt.”
“Hurt?” Finn was confused.
“You know what’s happened to me before,” Kurt’s hands started clenching, gripping his sheets tightly. “I just don’t want anything like that happening to any of you.”
“Everything’s going to be okay,” Finn insisted. “And sure, some of the guys at school are idiots, but we’re better than them. I told my mom about it, and that’s what she told me. Well, not in those exact words, but you get the point. Besides, you’re family now. Family sticks up for each other.”
Kurt sniffed loudly.
“Wait, are you crying?” Finn sat up, leaning closer, probably squinting to try and see Kurt’s face properly. Kurt laughed thickly, because he was, in fact, crying.
“Thank you.”
“But… I didn’t do anything.”
“Yes you did,” Kurt sniffed again and Finn leaned even closer. “Finn, I don’t want to sound like a sappy movie, but you doing Day of Silence with me means so much. Probably more than you know.”
“I’m not good at this part,” Finn admitted. “I never know what to do when girls get all sad and start crying. Not that you’re a girl,” he added quickly, making Kurt laugh again.
“I get it,” he assured the taller boy. A pause, then he said quietly, “I love you. In a completely platonic and brotherly way.”
Finn’s posture shifted. “Well… I don’t know what platonic means, but I think that’s a good thing.”
Kurt curled into a ball under his blankets, pulling them closer. “Yeah, that’s a good thing.” He hadn’t meant to say that at all, but it had just come out. Now he felt exposed, as if he was lying spread-eagled under a spotlight with Finn’s critical eyes on him. But, all things considered, Finn was taking this declaration very well. Just a month ago he probably would have started shouting. Or bolted for the door.
Instead, Finn just shrugged, laid back down, and went to sleep.
It took Kurt quite a while longer to fall asleep. He readjusted his pillow at least five times, kicking his blankets off then pulling them on again, always feeling too hot then too cold. His mental anxiety was affecting him physically, and eventually he just laid on his back, counting his breaths in and out until he was too tired to continue this tedious task.
Waking up in the morning was surprisingly easy. Kurt liked waking up. He liked the two seconds between sleep and consciousness, the two seconds where you haven’t remembered anything yet and all you know is the happiness to be alive for another day.
Day of Silence was no different. Kurt woke up like normal, was happy for two seconds like normal, then remembered everything like normal.
He went about getting ready like normal too. His clothes were hanging on the doorknob of the closet just like any other day, the only difference being that he was wearing an older pair of jeans that he had vowed to burn two months ago and one of Finn’s old T-shirts. He looked terrible, not at all like himself, but he wasn’t about to risk designer clothes on a day like this.
Finn woke up just as Kurt finished in the bathroom. Instead of Finn’s usual muffled complaints about it being “too early for my brain to work,” there were just small sleepy noises. Nothing coherent as words, and Kurt was instantly touched. Finn had remembered.
The two boys made eye contact for a second, Finn’s eyes traveling downward to get a look at Kurt’s clothes. He grinned, giving the other a thumbs up. Kurt couldn’t help but giggle, smoothing the T-shirt down and giving Finn a small wave as he headed for the stairs.
That was one unspoken agreement they had. Kurt left the room when Finn got changed. Finn normally reciprocated (unless he was sleeping, and in those cases Kurt was always careful to keep out of any possible line of sight), and it really helped down the awkward factor. Sure, both boys sometimes walked around without shirts on, but once the pants came down, one of them normally left. They hadn’t reached the point where walking around in their underwear was okay.
Burt and Carole were both already awake, sitting at the kitchen table with mugs of coffee between their hands. Carole was wearing an old bathrobe that Kurt made a mental note to “replace” while Burt had already changed into his work clothes. Kurt gave the pair a small smile, then headed over to the coffee pot to pour some for himself. He sat down next to his dad, peeking over his shoulder to see what they were both looking at.
The calendar the Hummels kept on the wall next to the fridge was lying on the table between them, and they were talking quietly together, pointing out different dates. The calendar was open to July, Kurt noticed, which was weird considering it was still April.
“Morning, buddy,” his dad greeted him. “Sleep okay?” Kurt answered by shrugging.
“Good morning, Kurt,” Carole reached out to hold his hand for a brief second. “Burt and I were just talking about plans for your and Finn’s summer vacation. We were thinking of going somewhere together for a couple days.”
Kurt could have laughed at the irony. How many times had he planned out this exact situation back when he had first set up his dad with Finn’s mom? And now here they were, living out almost exactly the life he had planned. But he kept quiet and just smiled politely, leaning in closer to get a better look. A couple dates had question marks on them.
“We’ll talk about just where we want to go over the weekend, how’s that sound?” Burt asked, pointing out all the dates he and Carole had highlighted. “When you and Finn are both talking again.” He didn’t sound annoyed. “You know I would have done it too, but I’ve got to run the garage.”
Kurt waved this away, shaking his head. He knew it was impossible for his father to do Day of Silence. But he had offered, and that was enough.
Finn joined the three of them not long after, getting himself a cup of coffee as well. The two boys drank in silence while their parents talked quietly beside them, both thinking about what was going to happen later in the day. Kurt noticed that Finn’s hands were tightening around his mug quite a bit this morning.
Finn drove them to school once they had both drunk their fill and gotten their daily caffeine quotient. It hadn’t been Finn’s idea to drive - normally that was Kurt’s job - but Kurt tossed him the keys to his baby as they started for the garage. Kurt wasn’t stupid; if he tried to drive today, something would probably go seriously wrong, and the last thing he needed was to crash his car.
To combat the silence, Finn switched on the radio. On any other day Kurt would have appreciated Finn keeping it at his favorite station, but today the music just sounded like noise. But rooming with Finn had taught him a lot about the other boy, one thing being that Finn couldn’t stand silence. He always had to be talking or singing or listening to something. Kurt was the same for the most part, except when something like this rolled around. Then he just wanted quiet.
So he just stared blankly out the window, tuning the music out. Finn would tap the steering wheel along with whatever was playing when they were stopped at a red light, probably to help fill the silence as well. Finn was getting fidgety, a sure sign that he was nervous.
As Finn pulled into a parking space, Kurt turned back to look at him, one hand reaching out to squeeze Finn’s arm. There was another brief moment of eye contact, Kurt smiling a close-mouthed, thin-lipped smile that didn’t suit his face. Finn gave a short nod, and they exited the car.
The two walked into school together, just like they did every day since they had started carpooling. Finn waved goodbye when he headed over to his own locker, Kurt acknowledging this with a small wave of his own. As he continued down the hallway alone, he was suddenly very aware of just how many people were staring at him. Sure, he was wearing a shirt that was very obviously Finn’s, but he hadn’t expected that many people to notice this difference in his wardrobe. Kurt started wishing that Finn was still at his side; he felt safer having the taller boy around.
Whispers followed him all the way to his locker, certain words catching his attention and making him frown. A blush was creeping up his cheeks, he could tell. Whenever he got angry, he got embarrassed and flustered first.
Just get your books out and get to class, Kurt told himself as he reached his locker. The less time you spend in the hallway, the better you’ll be. He looked over his shoulder, noticing that an extremely large boy was glaring at him in a way that he really didn’t like. Pretending not to notice, Kurt continued going about his business.
He looked over his shoulder again not ten seconds later, instantly noticing that this large boy now had a friend with him and that he had gotten closer. Kurt’s heartbeat picked up, breath hitching. He had to get to a classroom. Right now.
“Hey Kurt.”
Thank the good Lord above and all things holy for Matt Rutherford. The normally silent boy had come over to Kurt’s locker, obviously having something to say. Kurt’s face fell; Matt wasn’t doing Day of Silence?”
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m gonna talk today,” Matt continued, confirming Kurt’s conclusion. Well, he had expected that, but he hadn’t expected it to be Matt.
“Not because I don’t want to do the Day of Silence thing, because I do,” Matt kept talking, and Kurt raised an eyebrow, “it’s just that I never talk at all. Like, ever. So I thought that instead I could start talking.”
Kurt was definitely intrigued. He tilted his head slightly, adjusting his posture so he was leaning against his locker. His body language would tell Matt that he was interested.
“I just told Karofsky not to throw people in the dumpster anymore.”
Well, that was certainly a brave move.
“I mean, who knows if he’ll actually listen, but it saved Jacob Ben Israel a change of clothes. And I’m gonna say something if people say that Day of Silence is weird or stupid and I’ll tell people to lay off if anyone starts messing with you.”
And Kurt really, really liked the sound of that. He nodded, a grin breaking across his face. Having Matt sticking up for the rest of them would definitely help. And Kurt had to admit, it was nice that he was doing Day of Silence his way, because Kurt definitely wouldn’t have noticed a difference if Matt had been quiet all day. So he gave Matt the thumbs up, still smiling when the other walked off to his first classroom.
When Kurt looked over his shoulder again, he noticed that the two boys who had been looking at him were gone. Feeling much more confident, Kurt finished getting his books together and walked towards first period.
Class was uneventful, if Kurt was being honest. He hadn’t been expecting anything to happen, but he had expected more whispering. But their teacher put on a video, giving them a question sheet they were supposed to answer as they watched. That type of class hardly made not talking a big deal. Kurt was grateful, because he didn’t think he would have been able to handle a terrible day from start to finish. The start was going reasonably well so far.
His luck ran out when the period ended. Kurt put his books away, slung his bag over his shoulder, and was walking out the door when a large hand landed on his shoulder. He looked over to see who it was, stomach doing an uncomfortable flip when he recognized Karofsky.
“You’re not allowed to celebrate fag day at my school, Hummel,” Karofsky’s grip on Kurt’s shoulder tightened, his other hand closing around Kurt’s arm. “Come on, let’s put you in your place.”
It hurt to be called a fag. Karofsky’s grip on him was so tight that it was starting to hurt. But what hurt most was that he’d lost his voice. Normally he could just shrug this away, responding with a quick and witty tongue, but not today. As Karofsky turned him and started marching him down the hallway, Kurt resigned himself to spending second period inside the janitor’s closet. At least he had practiced, right?
But it seemed Karofsky had other ideas. He steered Kurt over to a row of lockers, slamming him unceremoniously against one of them. “Right then, fag, time to get back inside the closet.”
Bad puns made it worse.
But wait, they were nowhere near the janitor’s closet. That was further down the hallway, past the home-ec room, so what was going on here? Kurt turned to look behind him just as the locker next to him clicked open.
Kurt’s breath caught in his chest. They were not about to shut him in a locker. Closets and dumpsters were one thing, but lockers were a completely different story. You couldn’t move around in a locker. You couldn’t tug your phone out of your pocket and text someone and hope they’d come and get you. Inside a locker, you’re completely paralyzed, no room for movement. It was a claustrophobic’s worst nightmare, and Kurt was about to be shoved right into it.
Karofsky shifted his grip on Kurt so that he had a hand pressed on the smaller boy’s chest, forcing him backwards into the locker. There were people walking around in the hallway, looking at them and not doing anything about it. Kurt wanted to shout for someone to stop this, for someone to do something. Why didn’t anyone stop and do something?
He was shoved into the locker roughly, his head scraping on one of the little hooks inside. He lost his footing, Karofsky’s hand on his chest pressing him to the very back and keeping him upright. Kurt was convinced that he was about to be locked in here, that Karofsky’s sneer was the last thing he would see until someone found him, but then - finally - a friendly voice reached his ears.
“Karofsky, what the hell are you doing?”
Kurt made a mental note to get Matt a big, expensive thank you gift once the day was over.
“Get off him!” Matt and Mike came into Kurt’s now limited line of sight, both of them grabbing onto Karofsky’s shirt and hauling him backwards. His hand left Kurt’s chest, leaving the small boy to crumple to the bottom of the locker, legs sticking awkwardly out of it. Kurt let his head drop so his chin rested on his chest, breathing deeply and evenly, trying to calm himself down.
“Leave him alone,” Matt’s voice was forceful. “Just get out of here, Karofsky, and leave him the fuck alone.”
It was incredible how much a pissed off Matt sounded like a pissed off Puck.
A pair of hands tightened around Kurt’s arms, pulling him up and out of the locker. Kurt looked up, seeing Mike’s smile and giving him a small one in return. The other boy helped Kurt to his feet, one arm going around Kurt’s waist and staying there until Kurt was back on his own two feet.
“You okay?” Matt asked, turning from where he was watching Karofsky walk away back to Kurt and Mike. “He didn’t do anything else, did he?”
Kurt shook his head, one hand going to his chest to feel the area Karofsky had pressed against. He was certain he hadn’t pushed hard enough to break anything, but he already knew there would be a bruise. Mike’s eyes were trained on Kurt’s hand, obviously knowing why it was there.
Matt checked his watch, saying, “We’ve got two minutes until class starts. Come on, Mike, we’re walking Kurt to class.”
It was amazing how someone who was literally always in the background could come to the front and take charge when he was needed. Kurt gave Matt a grateful smile, noticing that the boy returned it. One of Mike’s hands went to Kurt’s back, guiding him down the hallway. They had second period together, so Mike knew where they were going. It was kind of funny, Mike keeping a hand on Kurt’s back the entire way there.
Matt said goodbye to the pair of them, and Mike let Kurt enter the room first, hand still at the other’s back. Kurt could hear people laughing and he knew what this had to look like, but he didn’t care. This was Mike’s way of letting him know he cared, and everyone else could go shove it.
But when class started, Kurt wished for the first time that they didn’t have such a scatterbrained teacher. Sure, she knew her stuff, but she never caught the kids who texted during class or threw things across the room or passed notes. And, unfortunately, that’s what everyone seemed to be doing today.
It hadn’t even been two minutes and Kurt felt something hit the back of his head. His hand went to the spot, touching it lightly. His fingers found a lump of a gunky… something at the base of his neck, and when he pulled this lump of whatever it was off his skin to look at it, he realized that he was back in second grade.
People were shooting spitballs at him.
He waited, knowing that more were on their way. Maybe if he slumped in his seat they wouldn’t be able to hit him. Kurt was just about to test this theory when he heard someone from the back of the room whisper loudly, “Hey, fag!”
Kurt turned in his seat slowly, eyebrows knitted together and an expression that clearly said, ‘Bait me and be destroyed,’ on his face. But nobody was looking at him. The entire back row were all looking at someone else, and Kurt followed their gaze to see them looking at Mike.
Oh shit.
Mike, who was completely unaware that any of this was going on, stiffened in his chair when the first spitball hit him. He turned around and got another one on his face. Kurt wanted to call across the room to him and tell him just to slouch in his seat, put his head on his desk, but he kept quiet. Mike had a deer-in-headlights look on his face, obviously completely taken aback by the spitballs.
Kurt had to admire how he handled things when he finally did come to terms with just what was going on. Mike turned in his seat, sitting perfectly straight and ignoring everything. Any time something would hit him, he would brush it off, tossing his bangs out of his face and keeping his eyes forward. He clearly wasn’t about to let this get to him.
But it was getting to Kurt. Mike had done nothing wrong, and all this was happening because of him. He found himself wishing that he had been shut in that locker, just so none of this would be happening.
Unfortunately, just thinking about almost being shoved in a locker was clearly too much for him today. Kurt immediately started picturing himself shut in that small metal space, arms stuck at his sides and legs uncomfortably bent. He could practically feel the cool metal pressing in on him now, the classroom lights dimming into blackness.
His breathing picked up and Kurt forced himself to focus.
You are not shut in a locker. You are in history class. You are sitting at your desk, and you are perfectly fine.
Unfortunately, the lecture their teacher was giving was nowhere near interesting enough to distract him from these thoughts. Kurt spent the rest of the period being unpleasantly reminded of just how close he had come to being shut in a locker, trying and failing to jerk himself out of these thoughts. It was almost worse than being shut in a locker for real, because a real locker couldn’t be nearly as cold and dark and small as Kurt’s imagination made it out to be.
As soon as the bell dismissed the class, Kurt ran out of the room. He made a beeline for the nearest bathroom, not even bothering to check whether it was the girls’ or boys’ room. It could have been the faculty bathroom for all he knew, but he didn’t care.
Kurt dropped his bag in the corner on the floor, going over to one of the sinks and practically collapsing in front of it. His hands rested on the cold surface, head bent and tears dripping into the bowl as if the faucet was on.
He knew he should lock himself in a stall if he wanted a good cry. Someone was bound to walk in eventually and find him and, knowing his luck, it would be Karofsky.
That thought was enough to get him up and moving. He got a paper towel from the dispenser, wetting it and wiping his face, trying to remove the obvious tear trails. Kurt looked at his reflection in the mirror, scrutinizing his complexion and knowing it wasn’t going to get much better.
You need to get back out there and show everyone that you’re stronger than this, he told himself, locking eyes with his reflection. Get back out there and prove to the entire school that you can do anything. Show them all that you’re better than them. You are a strong person. Don’t let them win.
Kurt jumped, feeling a hand on his shoulder. He almost jerked away from the touch, but he caught Rachel’s reflection in the mirror and relaxed. He turned to look at her, eyes taking in the duct tape on her mouth and the fake tattoo on her cheek. He knew what they were for, knew that Rachel had done this for Day of Silence.
It was then that he realized he was looking at the one person who might understand what he was going through. Rachel got teased all the time because of her dads, but she loved them and accepted them and never blamed them. Kurt’s eyes wandered over her face, looking for some sign of understanding, of friendship.
Then she hugged him.
Kurt’s arms moved on their own to embrace Rachel, his posture sagging and his cheek resting on her shoulder. He had never hugged Rachel before, unless their celebratory we-just-won-Sectionals-so-everyone-is-hugging-everyone-else hug counted. But that hug had lasted for about two seconds, nothing like this one, where Kurt felt like Rachel’s arms were the only thing keeping him inside himself. Her arms were protecting him, shielding him with a friend’s care.
Rachel gave him a tight squeeze before letting him go. Kurt let out a deep breath, exhaling all the air in his lungs, feeling so relieved that he could have melted onto the floor. His hardened expression was gone, replaced by a much softer one that made him feel completely relaxed. Rachel’s eyes were wide and were flicking over his face, no doubt taking in his own expression and making her feel better as well.
She pulled out a notebook and wrote something down, showing it to him. Meet me in the choir room during free period, it said. He nodded, giving her something halfway between a grimace and a smile.
Rachel left for class, but Kurt stayed put. He went back to his spot in front of the mirror, telling himself to get back out there. The bell signaling the start of third period rang, but Kurt made no movement. He just looked at his reflection in the mirror, not focusing on himself and letting his mind wander.
As soon as his mind wandered back to the locker, Kurt knew he needed to get out of there. He needed to walk around and prove to himself that he was okay. He still had the use of all four limbs. His brain was still functioning. He was still a living human being.
So Kurt picked up his bag and started walking. He left the bathroom and walked down the hallway, not really knowing where he was going. He walked past the auditorium. He walked past the gym. He walked past Mr. Schue’s Spanish classroom and Miss Pillsbury’s office. He walked until he reached the end of the hallway, then he turned around and walked back.
Eventually he reached the choir room. The lights were off and the piano was pushed back against the wall. Kurt turned the lights on and wheeled the piano into the middle of the room, wanting to make it look normal. He hated seeing the choir room like that, as if nobody was using it.
He sat down at the piano, letting his bag fall to the floor again. He didn’t start playing, because someone was sure to hear it and come ask him why he wasn’t in class. Kurt just sat there, fingers poised above the keys, and closed his eyes, imagining that he was playing any number of his favorite songs.
After singing Defying Gravity twice in his head, the pretend piano playing got boring. Kurt moved over to one of the plastic chairs instead, sitting down and curling up into a little ball. He hugged his knees so tightly that his elbows locked and it hurt, but he didn’t let go. He buried his face between his legs and his chest, closing his eyes and pretending he was back in his closet.
It took about a minute for pretending to be in his safe closet to turn into a nightmare about being locked in a locker.
The tears came soon after, the sobs muffled by his own body. He was probably getting tears all over Finn’s T-shirt, but for once in his life he didn’t care. He didn’t feel confident or sarcastic or fabulous like he usually did. He just felt sad.
When the bell rang, Kurt sniffed loudly, looking up from his knees and unlocking one arm so he could wipe at his face. He had no idea what Rachel wanted to do today, but Jesse would probably be coming with her. Kurt didn’t want either one of them to walk in on him crying.
Jesse arrived first, and he sat next to Kurt and put an arm around him. It was a little weird, because while Kurt considered Jesse to be a friend, they weren’t the let-s-hug-and-talk-about-our-feelings kind of friends. But then again, neither were he and Mike, and Mike had practically led him to class before.
So Kurt let himself lean into Jesse’s arm, let himself look up at Jesse with his still tear-filled eyes and pretend that this was normal. Jesse looked back at him, eyes wide and sad, mouth covered by a strip of duct tape. Just like Rachel.
Who, speak of the devil, had just arrived.
Rachel was the type of person who demanded the attention of everyone in the room the second she entered, even if she didn’t mean to. The way she walked and the way she carried herself spoke even when no words came out of her mouth. Even on a day like today, Rachel Berry was still Rachel freaking Berry, and Kurt loved her for it.
She had a camera swinging dangerously from one wrist, almost smacking Kurt in the face when she reached the pair of them. Rachel passed him a notebook, hovering over him as he turned it so Jesse could read over his shoulder.
We’re going to do a NOH8 photoshoot!
Kurt wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He knew what the NOH8 organization was, of course, but he wasn’t exactly in the right physical state - or frame of mind - to have a camera pointing at him. Any pictures he took today were going to turn out horribly, he was sure of it. But Rachel had already ripped off a piece of duct tape, passing it to Jesse once she pressed it to her jeans a few times.
Kurt tossed Rachel’s notebook onto the chair next to him, turning to face Jesse and leaning forward the slightest bit, giving him wordless permission to stick the piece of duct tape to his face. Jesse was very careful with it, testing it on his hand first, probably to make sure it wasn’t too sticky. When the other boy pressed it to his mouth, Kurt was taken aback by how gentle he was being. He could barely feel Jesse’s fingers pressing the tape down. Kurt kept his eyes trained on Jesse’s face, lost in thought about how this was the same Jesse St. James he had despised not three months ago.
When Rachel rejoined them, she held up a red pen and a black pen, obviously meaning to write ‘NOH8’ on Kurt’s face. This was quite different from what had happened last time someone had wanted to write on his face. Rachel’s hands were almost as gentle as Jesse’s, the tip of the pen stroking Kurt’s cheek lightly. When Rachel finished, Kurt could see the duct tape on her mouth move slightly, probably restraining a smile.
Then without warning the camera was on him. Rachel and Jesse had both left his side, and Rachel was taking his picture. Kurt wanted to tell her to stop, that this was a bad idea, that he was too embarrassed and humiliated to do this. But when Rachel Berry has an idea, you go along with it.
Come on, you, Kurt told himself. Rachel is going to take your picture whether you like it or not, so you’d better try to make these look somewhat decent!
Vanity was what got Kurt moving along with the camera. He didn’t do any poses, just adjusted his posture and his facial expressions slightly, moving the tiniest bit between each shot. If this had been a real NOH8 photoshoot with Adam Bouska in the room, he would have been hamming it up like nobody’s business, sassing the camera and making witty comments once the duct tape was off his mouth.
But this was just McKinley high school. He was just Kurt, the token gay kid who wasn’t talking for a day, and the people in the room with him were just Rachel and Jesse.
Rachel gave Jesse a nudge that was more like a deliberate elbow, and Jesse came over to stand next to Kurt. The two of them stayed like that for a while, Rachel taking their picture and moving from side to side to get different angles. Kurt wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do and he wasn’t exactly in the mood for any fun poses, but it seemed Jesse had other ideas.
Before Kurt quite knew what was going on, Jesse had an arm around him from behind, pulling him close. Kurt stiffened at first, taken aback by Jesse’s half-embrace and feeling very awkward about the whole situation. Jesse was holding him like he would hold Rachel, an arm wrapped possessively around the smaller boy, holding him so close that their bodies were pressed together. While it certainly wasn’t unpleasant, being held like that, it was weird when the guy holding you was doing it right in front of his girlfriend.
If it bothered Rachel, she didn’t show it. She just kept taking pictures, so Kurt allowed himself to relax into Jesse’s embrace. If he was being completely honest, it was very nice, being held like that. Part of him wished that it wasn’t Jesse doing it, though, because Kurt knew that they would never be more than friends, and friends didn’t hold each other like this.
Mixed feelings met him when Jesse let him go. Kurt knew it was wrong to want someone else’s boyfriend to keep holding you, but that didn’t stop him from missing the feel of Jesse’s arm around him. For a second he had been able to pretend that someone did care about him in a deeper sense of the word, but now that Jesse was right in front of him again, Kurt had to go back to reality.
But Jesse wasn’t done with him yet. Jesse got two more poses in before switching places with Rachel, who, Kurt could tell, was grinning underneath her duct tape. Jesse started taking pictures of the pair of them, and within a few minutes Kurt had forgotten all his worries. There was just him, the camera, and his competition for the spotlight. He and Rachel started to get cheeky with each other, holding their hands in front of the other’s face right as Jesse took a picture or making silly faces at each other. It was a diva-off without the singing.
Fair was fair, though, so who was Kurt to steal all the attention? He was still a team player, so after his and Rachel’s camera hogging had died down a bit, he went over to take the camera from Jesse. He held it up, an almost impatient look on his face as he waited for Jesse to go over to Rachel and take pictures with her. They were the real couple, after all.
Jesse’s arms went around Rachel’s waist almost automatically, holding her close to him in a more intimate embrace than the one he had shared with Kurt. It didn’t bother him, because he and Jesse were just friends, but it did hurt a little, seeing how the pair of them just seemed to fit together so nicely. They really were each other’s perfect match, and this showed wordlessly through their actions. Kurt wasn’t surprised at all when Jesse’s hand went to Rachel’s neck, cupping her jaw line and lowering his face so their duct tape-covered lips were pressed together.
It was beautiful. They were beautiful. The pictures Kurt was taking of them were beautiful. Everything about Rachel Berry and Jesse St. James was beautiful, and Kurt hoped that he would find something like it one day. He wished he could tell them just how beautiful he thought they were, but he wouldn’t have said anything even if he could. That was just way too sappy.
Kurt’s thoughts were broken when he realized that Jesse was motioning for him to come over. Rachel held out her hand for the camera, so he gave it to her, walking over to stand next to Jesse with confusion written all over his face. He looked over at Jesse, raising one eyebrow as Jesse turned to face him.
The eyebrow fell back into place and his whole expression softened when he felt Jesse’s arm around his waist.
Jesse St. James, what the hell do you think you’re doing? If this is what I think it is, then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought. Your girlfriend is right there!
Kurt watched Jesse’s face get closer, feeling his own face heat up. The place on his waist where Jesse was resting his arm started to tingle. A strand of that over-gelled, wavy, gorgeous brown hair brushed against Kurt’s forehead and Jesse’s nose bumped his as the older boy pressed his duct tape-covered lips against Kurt’s.
This was just too weird. Jesse St. James was pretending to kiss him in front of Rachel. Rachel Berry. His girlfriend Rachel Berry.
And this didn’t even count as a real kiss, Kurt was sure of it. Their lips weren’t even touching, but it was the closest he’d ever gotten to a real kiss with a boy. Jesse tilted his head slightly and Kurt felt the same strand of Jesse’s hair tickle his forehead again. The duct tape started feeling embarrassingly thin, and Kurt was sure his entire face had to be tinged pink.
And then Jesse’s free hand found his, fingers just barely entwining and Jesse pulled his hand up to their faces, setting it on his own neck. Kurt could feel Jesse’s pulse beneath his fingers. His entire hand started tingling and he was suddenly unable to move it, as if Jesse would push him away if he so much as moved his thumb.
One thing was for sure: when Kurt had woken up that morning, the possibility of fake-kissing Jesse St. James would have made him laugh like a crazed donkey. There was no way this could actually be happening, but here they were. And Kurt would be flat-out lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed it.
When Jesse pulled away, he did it slowly. He tilted his head back to its normal position, withdrawing his arm slowly from Kurt’s waist as he did so. Kurt’s hand practically flew back to his side, as if keeping it too long at Jesse’s neck would cause the other boy to get angry. But then Jesse’s eyes crinkled and the duct tape over his mouth moved, showing that he was smiling. Kurt smiled back, marveling at how uncomfortable it was to move your face when there’s a piece of duct tape in the way.
Jesse pulled him into a hug, one arm back around his waist and the other wrapping tightly around Kurt’s shoulders. Kurt hugged him back, trying to ignore how he seemed to just fit in Jesse’s arms. He closed his eyes, breathing in slowly and out gradually, allowing himself to simply live in the moment.
When Jesse let him go and they took a step away from each other, Kurt noticed that Rachel was gone. Panic-stricken and thinking that she had taken all of this the wrong way, Kurt bolted to the door, looking down the hallway to see her standing at the nearest water fountain. His brow creased with confusion and he felt Jesse come up behind him, no doubt also looking over at Rachel.
She turned from the fountain, amusement in her eyes at their expressions. She held up a paper towel that she had obviously just soaked under the fountain, tapping Kurt’s cheek when she reached them again.
Oh. Right.
Rachel cleaned off his cheek, moving the paper towel gently across the letters. Kurt couldn’t see how she was doing, but when she was satisfied she pulled out her compact and let him look in the mirror. Kurt turned his cheek, admiring the completely clean red patch on his face.
The duct tape came off his lips just as the bell rang. Kurt grinned at Rachel and Jesse, having forgotten all about the locker fiasco. He had two wonderful friends that cared about him enough to put together something like this. He could confidently say that he loved Rachel and Jesse.
Rachel bustled out of the room first, waving over her shoulder at the pair of them. Jesse, however, offered Kurt his arm, waiting patiently until the other linked his through. Wondering if this was the sort of treatment that Jesse gave Rachel every day, Kurt allowed himself to be escorted out the door, a smile planted firmly on his lips.
The smile was still there when Jesse dropped him off at Mr. Schuester’s classroom. Kurt gave him a grateful look before going inside, making a beeline for his desk and sitting down quickly. He wasn’t stupid; he remembered that the rest of the school wasn’t going to treat him like Jesse just had, so he wanted to draw as little attention to himself as possible. He focused on the chalkboard, which was covered with writing.
Kurt didn’t notice when Mr. Schuester motioned for quiet because he was too busy reading the chalkboard and trying to translate the paragraph. He was good at Spanish and knew most of their vocabulary off the top of his head, and the paragraph seemed simple enough. Besides, it seemed like Mr. Schue had lifted the words verbatim from the Day of Silence website, which Kurt had visited plenty of times recently.
It took him only a few minutes to get everything down on paper in English and only a little longer to make sure he’d gotten the correct forms of the words. Mr. Schue liked to put in little tricks sometimes, changing tenses halfway through so they wouldn’t get it exactly right. It kept them on their toes, but Kurt found it really annoying.
He was the first one done, so he got up from his seat and wordlessly made his way over to Mr. Schue’s desk, paper in hand. Teacher and student made eye contact for a moment, then Kurt held out his paper. Mr. Schue took it, placing it off to the side for the beginnings of a pile. There was another second of eye contact, then Mr. Schue mouthed, ‘Thank you.’
Kurt just smiled, going back to his seat.
Now came the boring part. Everyone else was still working, he had over a half hour until the class as over, and he couldn’t talk to anyone. Kurt chanced a glance around the room, watching as Quinn stood up to turn in her paper. Finn was flipping back and forth in his textbook, obviously looking up what seemed to be every other word. Kurt’s expression softened. Finn had asked him for help with Spanish a week ago, confessing that he usually got all the different endings mixed up and only knew how to say, “Necessito chocolate caliente,” which would hardly get him anywhere.
Kurt was against all forms of academic dishonesty. It was wrong and there was no excuse for it. But watching his almost-step-brother bent over his textbook, a frown on his face, and knowing that he may have been put through some serious crap today was enough for Kurt to throw all his beliefs out the window.
He pulled out his phone, careful to keep it out of Mr. Schue’s line of sight, and began typing in the English translation of the paragraph. It took quite a while, seeing how he was constantly looking up to make sure Mr. Schue wasn’t looking, but he managed to get the whole thing down eventually. Saving it as a message, he scrolled through his list of contacts, finding Finn’s number and pressing ‘send.’
Then he put his phone away. He had no intention of using it again or texting anyone else the answer. Kurt just waited, glancing over at Finn every so often, watching him as he figured out just what he had been sent.
He got one of Finn’s trademark goofy grins as a thank you, to which he responded with a grin of his own and a wink. Feeling accomplished, even though he had helped Finn cheat, Kurt turned back to his own desk, tugging a book out of his backpack and starting to read. Reading was always a good distraction.
He was distracted from his reading when the entire class started yelling.
Mr. Schue ran past him and Kurt turned in his seat, noticing that Finn was up and out of his seat, standing in front of someone else’s desk. Mr. Schue grabbed hold of Finn and pulled him back, and Kurt could see the boy at the other desk holding his nose. Kurt put two and two together and realized that Finn had probably punched the other guy. But why had he done that?
Kurt watched as Mr. Schue led Finn to the front of the room, eyes wide and never leaving Finn for an instant. He could tell Finn was angry by how tense he looked, by the way he squared his shoulders. Something had to have provoked him. Finn never lashed out for no reason. So what had the other boy done?
He tried to read his book once Finn had left and the talking had turned back into murmuring, but he couldn’t concentrate. The classroom was buzzing with a mixture of confusion and anger, and Kurt could feel angry eyes on him. Had the other boy said something to Finn about him? Was this a repeat of what had happened with Mike and the spitballs?
Kurt never got his answer. Finn smiled at him when the passed in the hallway, obviously returning from a good trip to Figgins’ office. Kurt hoped that meant he wasn’t bothered by whatever had been said, because the last thing he wanted was for Finn to start getting the word ‘fag’ thrown at him.
He wondered about this all through his next class, making him restless. He barely paid attention to what his teacher was saying, tapping his foot impatiently for almost the entire 43 minute period. Kurt wanted it to be lunch right now, so he could ask Finn what had happened. He wanted to sit with his friends and hear about what had happened during their days so far.
As is true in almost any case, when you want time to move faster, it seems to go by even slower. Kurt started checking the clock at a regular interval of every other minute, a sigh escaping his mouth every time he noticed how little time had passed. He should feel lucky because nobody was bothering him, but even teasing made the time go by faster.
He practically leaped out of his seat and bolted for the cafeteria. He didn’t even stop at his locker to grab his lunch; he didn’t have very much of an appetite anyway. Tina and Artie were already at their usual table, and Kurt sat down next to Tina, already feeling much better than he had the entire day.
The rest of the glee club arrived slowly and Kurt was practically standing on his seat looking for Finn. Where had he got to? Everyone else had already arrived, even Puck, Mike, and Matt, who usually sat somewhere else with Brittany and Santana. Matt was shouting around at anyone who made a comment about them all being silent. It seemed like quite a few of their usual tormenters were missing, which Kurt was thankful for.
But where was Finn? Kurt stood up so he could see across the cafeteria, turning slowly on the spot, searching for the boy who was usually so easy to find. Kurt didn’t think he would be sitting at another table, but he kept his eyes peeled anyway. When he sat back down, he noticed that Puck looked worried. He had obviously noticed Finn’s absence as well.
So Kurt moved down a few seats so he was sitting between Puck and Mike, scribbling in his notebook, Any idea where Finn is? He passed it and his pencil to Puck, who scrawled back, No clue. The two of them exchanged another worried look, then Puck stood up to scan the cafeteria again. Quinn, who was on Puck’s other side, pulled the notebook in front of her and wrote something as well.
He punched Karofsky’s brother in Spanish and I don’t see either one of them. Kurt looked up at her, face now panic-stricken. He began shaking his head, refusing to believe that Finn’s absence and the absence of the football team were connected.
But when Puck sat back down, saw what Quinn had written, and slammed his fist down on the table, Kurt couldn’t ignore the obvious anymore. His breath started coming in short, pitiful gasps, his eyes blurring and his hands shaking.
Matt appeared out of nowhere in front of Kurt, taking hold of his hands and saying in a soft voice, “Deep breath, Kurt, come on. Deep breath.”
It took him a couple tries, but Kurt obeyed this instruction, drawing in one long, shaky breath.
“That’s the way,” Matt squeezed his hands. “Try to calm yourself down. Count your breaths and keep doing that until your breathing regulates. Come on.” Kurt tried this as well, counting in three counts, holding it for two counts, then out for three counts.
“Good man. Now, listen to me. If something’s happened, you can’t just run around all hysterical. You’ve got to have your head on straight, okay? Finn wouldn’t want you to get all upset over him, I know it. Now, another deep breath,” Kurt did as he was told, “and off you go.”
A grateful smile was all Matt got by way of a thank you before Kurt dashed out of the cafeteria. Someone grabbed his arm and he halted, turning to see Puck’s still worried face.
“You check classrooms and I’ll check lockers,” Puck said, adding, “Sorry. For, you know, talking,” as they moved to go their separate ways. Kurt waved this away. He didn’t care if the entire Glee club burst into song, as long as Finn was okay.
Kurt started running around the hallways, peeking in the doorway of every classroom that looked empty. He tested the handles once he confirmed they weren’t in use, finding some locked. He went inside the unlocked ones, making a circle around the room until he was satisfied that Finn wasn’t there. He wasn’t entirely sure what Puck had meant when he said he’d check the lockers, but could only imagine that he had meant the locker room.
Oh God, Kurt’s face paled. The locker room! Of course! Puck wanted to check there because that’s probably where they are and he knows I wouldn’t be any use if I actually found them. His eyes blurred again and he slumped down in the nearest chair, tears spilling over onto his cheeks. They’ve got Finn in the locker room and it’s all my fault!
Kurt didn’t want to remember the last time someone had got him in there. Nothing too serious had happened, considering he’d been expecting the worst. There’d been some name-calling and they’d forced him out of his clothes, but they hadn’t done anything more than a couple smacks on the bottom. Even though Kurt had wished they’d just go back to hitting him anywhere else, he knew he was lucky. There was a lot more that could have happened to him while he had his clothes off.
As he sat there crying in the classroom, Kurt found himself wishing that he had told someone about what had happened. He’d been too embarrassed to mention it to anyone, too humiliated in the knowledge that everyone in that locker room had seen him naked. And when he got the email saying, “Don’t tell anyone or your ass is all over the school website,” Kurt had done just what they wanted and kept his mouth shut.
Maybe if I’d been brave enough to risk that, they’d have gotten kicked out of McKinley. They wouldn’t be in the locker room with Finn.
That was enough to get him up and out the door. Puck might not have wanted him in the locker room, but Finn was his brother and there was no way he was just going to sit here crying when his brother needed help. He was going to do whatever it took to get Finn away from those idiots unharmed.
But when Kurt left the classroom and saw a completely lost and disheartened Finn Hudson right in front of him, he knew that he had already lost. Puck hadn’t found him in time. Something had happened, and Kurt - even though he wasn’t religious by any means - prayed to whatever god was up there that it wasn’t anything like what had happened to him.
He grabbed hold of Finn’s arm, but the other pulled away automatically. He turned to face the smaller boy, eyes locking onto tear-filled eyes and just staring with a blank expression on his face. Then he reached out and pulled Kurt into an unexpected, tight hug.
Finn just held him there, squeezing him so tight that Kurt’s face was buried in the other’s chest. He wrapped his own arms around Finn, knowing that he was the one doing the holding, even if his own breathing was being constricted by Finn’s tight embrace. He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut until the tears went away, running one hand up and down Finn’s back soothingly, knowing how badly he had wanted someone to do that for him.
When breathing did, finally, become an issue, Kurt pulled away gently. He was reluctant to break the physical contact, knowing that it meant so much, so he reached out and took Finn’s hand. He half expected the other to protest, to pull away, but Finn allowed himself to be led down the hallway. Kurt stopped at his own locker, having noticed a cut on Finn’s chin. He was used to getting scrapes when the dumpster toss wasn’t aimed properly, so he had everything he needed in his locker.
Neosporin, Kurt’s best friend, was pulled out first, and he dabbed a bit on Finn’s chin, covering the cut. He chose a band-aid with care, knowing that purple and pink weren’t even considerations. He found a yellow one and placed it over the cut carefully, smoothing it from the middle outwards. That was how his mother had always done it.
Finn’s arm went around his shoulders just as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Finn began walking down the hallway, his arm staying where it was even when other people started coming out of their classes. Finn walked like this all the way to Kurt’s next class, even walking him to his seat and not leaving the room until Kurt sat down. Kurt decided not to mention that neither one of them had any of their things. Finn sat down next to him, his head immediately falling to the desk.
Kurt spent the rest of the period giving their teacher piercing glares if he looked like he was about to ask Finn to sit up. He had no idea what had happened to the other boy, but he knew that what Finn needed right now was time to himself. He didn’t need to be bombarded with questions from some stupid science teacher.
He almost didn’t go to his own class after science was over, wanting to stay with Finn for the rest of the day, to take him aside and hide out in the choir room so they could talk. It no longer mattered to him that it was Day of Silence. He just wanted to know what had happened and how he could help.
Mercedes found him just as he was about to turn to follow Finn, handing him his bag and slinging an arm around his waist. He let her lead him to their next class, looking over his shoulder and watching Finn go the other way.
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Kurt's Chapter: Part Two
Genre: friendship
Rating: T/borderline M
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Please note that Kurt's entire chapter is a whopping 18,395 words, so it has been broken into parts.
Author's Note: Because I'm not quite ready to say goodbye to this story, if you have any requests for an add-on to this story, ask and you shall receive!
Enjoy!
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Kurt was used to Day of Silence being the worst day of the year.
It had been like that ever since he started participating. At first people hadn’t known what he was doing, but unfortunately everyone in the building had access to a computer at some point in the day. By the time school had ended, it seemed like everyone knew what Day of Silence was for. Eighth graders elbowed him out of the way more than they usually did while the rest of the seventh grade class pretended not to see him. (The exception being Rachel Berry, who stared at him with big, pity-filled doe eyes from across the hall.) Even some of the sixth graders plucked up enough courage to laugh at him. And in Lima, no sixth grader ever laughs at a seventh grader.
Eighth grade hadn’t been much better. He had been thrown in the dumpster and they had actually shut the lid on top of him. To cap it all off, there was either some idiot sitting on top of it or something, because he couldn’t for the life of him get it back open. Kurt was almost positive that his prolonged stay in the dumpster that day made him mildly claustrophobic.
At least in ninth grade nobody had tossed him in the dumpster. Sure, he had been pinned down and had obscene words and a penis drawn on his face, but at least they hadn’t shut him in the janitor’s closet or something. Sharpie could be scrubbed off. Claustrophobia was a bigger problem.
So Kurt was already mentally prepared for whatever was going to happen to him this year. He had started shutting himself in his closet at home in an attempt to get over his claustrophobia in case there was a repeat of eighth grade. (Finn’s confused remark of, “Kurt… I think everyone already knows you’re gay, so you can come out now,” had helped significantly.) He took special care during his nighttime skin care routine, knowing that he might get drawn on again.
But something that was going to be different this time was that he wouldn’t be doing it alone. He was going to have thirteen other people doing it with him, including his almost-step-brother. Kurt would feel all sappy and cliché admitting it, but the fact that Finn would be doing it too meant more than everyone else combined. After Finn had blown up at him, they had both realized that they needed to be painfully honest with each other if they were ever going to end up with a healthy, brotherly relationship.
They had done just that, Kurt prefacing almost every criticism of Finn’s wardrobe with, “I swear this isn’t me trying to get you naked, but…” Finn would yell, “Personal space!” if Kurt ever started getting too close for comfort, and eventually they got all their feelings out in the open. Sometimes things were a little weird, but Kurt could confidently say that he now saw Finn as nothing more than a friend and any love he had for the boy had turned strictly brotherly in nature.
Kurt decided to talk with Finn about Day of Silence before they went to bed the night before. Finn always came down late, having taken quite the fancy to watching as much TV as he could on their 55-inch screen. Kurt waited until Finn finished in the bathroom, then cleared his throat and asked, “Can I talk to you?”
Finn slipped into his own bed, turning to he was facing Kurt. “Sure. What’s up?”
Kurt copied Finn, turning so he was lying on his side. “Are you sure you’re okay with not talking tomorrow?” He could make out Finn’s outline in the darkness of their room, giving himself a moment to revel in how strange it felt, being in his dark bedroom with the boy he used to have a crush on.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Finn’s tone suggested that he was surprised Kurt was asking.
“I just don’t want you to do it feeling like you have to,” Kurt said quickly. “Mr. Schue did kind of spring it on all of you, and as much as I appreciate the team spirit, I don’t want any of you getting hurt.”
“Hurt?” Finn was confused.
“You know what’s happened to me before,” Kurt’s hands started clenching, gripping his sheets tightly. “I just don’t want anything like that happening to any of you.”
“Everything’s going to be okay,” Finn insisted. “And sure, some of the guys at school are idiots, but we’re better than them. I told my mom about it, and that’s what she told me. Well, not in those exact words, but you get the point. Besides, you’re family now. Family sticks up for each other.”
Kurt sniffed loudly.
“Wait, are you crying?” Finn sat up, leaning closer, probably squinting to try and see Kurt’s face properly. Kurt laughed thickly, because he was, in fact, crying.
“Thank you.”
“But… I didn’t do anything.”
“Yes you did,” Kurt sniffed again and Finn leaned even closer. “Finn, I don’t want to sound like a sappy movie, but you doing Day of Silence with me means so much. Probably more than you know.”
“I’m not good at this part,” Finn admitted. “I never know what to do when girls get all sad and start crying. Not that you’re a girl,” he added quickly, making Kurt laugh again.
“I get it,” he assured the taller boy. A pause, then he said quietly, “I love you. In a completely platonic and brotherly way.”
Finn’s posture shifted. “Well… I don’t know what platonic means, but I think that’s a good thing.”
Kurt curled into a ball under his blankets, pulling them closer. “Yeah, that’s a good thing.” He hadn’t meant to say that at all, but it had just come out. Now he felt exposed, as if he was lying spread-eagled under a spotlight with Finn’s critical eyes on him. But, all things considered, Finn was taking this declaration very well. Just a month ago he probably would have started shouting. Or bolted for the door.
Instead, Finn just shrugged, laid back down, and went to sleep.
It took Kurt quite a while longer to fall asleep. He readjusted his pillow at least five times, kicking his blankets off then pulling them on again, always feeling too hot then too cold. His mental anxiety was affecting him physically, and eventually he just laid on his back, counting his breaths in and out until he was too tired to continue this tedious task.
Waking up in the morning was surprisingly easy. Kurt liked waking up. He liked the two seconds between sleep and consciousness, the two seconds where you haven’t remembered anything yet and all you know is the happiness to be alive for another day.
Day of Silence was no different. Kurt woke up like normal, was happy for two seconds like normal, then remembered everything like normal.
He went about getting ready like normal too. His clothes were hanging on the doorknob of the closet just like any other day, the only difference being that he was wearing an older pair of jeans that he had vowed to burn two months ago and one of Finn’s old T-shirts. He looked terrible, not at all like himself, but he wasn’t about to risk designer clothes on a day like this.
Finn woke up just as Kurt finished in the bathroom. Instead of Finn’s usual muffled complaints about it being “too early for my brain to work,” there were just small sleepy noises. Nothing coherent as words, and Kurt was instantly touched. Finn had remembered.
The two boys made eye contact for a second, Finn’s eyes traveling downward to get a look at Kurt’s clothes. He grinned, giving the other a thumbs up. Kurt couldn’t help but giggle, smoothing the T-shirt down and giving Finn a small wave as he headed for the stairs.
That was one unspoken agreement they had. Kurt left the room when Finn got changed. Finn normally reciprocated (unless he was sleeping, and in those cases Kurt was always careful to keep out of any possible line of sight), and it really helped down the awkward factor. Sure, both boys sometimes walked around without shirts on, but once the pants came down, one of them normally left. They hadn’t reached the point where walking around in their underwear was okay.
Burt and Carole were both already awake, sitting at the kitchen table with mugs of coffee between their hands. Carole was wearing an old bathrobe that Kurt made a mental note to “replace” while Burt had already changed into his work clothes. Kurt gave the pair a small smile, then headed over to the coffee pot to pour some for himself. He sat down next to his dad, peeking over his shoulder to see what they were both looking at.
The calendar the Hummels kept on the wall next to the fridge was lying on the table between them, and they were talking quietly together, pointing out different dates. The calendar was open to July, Kurt noticed, which was weird considering it was still April.
“Morning, buddy,” his dad greeted him. “Sleep okay?” Kurt answered by shrugging.
“Good morning, Kurt,” Carole reached out to hold his hand for a brief second. “Burt and I were just talking about plans for your and Finn’s summer vacation. We were thinking of going somewhere together for a couple days.”
Kurt could have laughed at the irony. How many times had he planned out this exact situation back when he had first set up his dad with Finn’s mom? And now here they were, living out almost exactly the life he had planned. But he kept quiet and just smiled politely, leaning in closer to get a better look. A couple dates had question marks on them.
“We’ll talk about just where we want to go over the weekend, how’s that sound?” Burt asked, pointing out all the dates he and Carole had highlighted. “When you and Finn are both talking again.” He didn’t sound annoyed. “You know I would have done it too, but I’ve got to run the garage.”
Kurt waved this away, shaking his head. He knew it was impossible for his father to do Day of Silence. But he had offered, and that was enough.
Finn joined the three of them not long after, getting himself a cup of coffee as well. The two boys drank in silence while their parents talked quietly beside them, both thinking about what was going to happen later in the day. Kurt noticed that Finn’s hands were tightening around his mug quite a bit this morning.
Finn drove them to school once they had both drunk their fill and gotten their daily caffeine quotient. It hadn’t been Finn’s idea to drive - normally that was Kurt’s job - but Kurt tossed him the keys to his baby as they started for the garage. Kurt wasn’t stupid; if he tried to drive today, something would probably go seriously wrong, and the last thing he needed was to crash his car.
To combat the silence, Finn switched on the radio. On any other day Kurt would have appreciated Finn keeping it at his favorite station, but today the music just sounded like noise. But rooming with Finn had taught him a lot about the other boy, one thing being that Finn couldn’t stand silence. He always had to be talking or singing or listening to something. Kurt was the same for the most part, except when something like this rolled around. Then he just wanted quiet.
So he just stared blankly out the window, tuning the music out. Finn would tap the steering wheel along with whatever was playing when they were stopped at a red light, probably to help fill the silence as well. Finn was getting fidgety, a sure sign that he was nervous.
As Finn pulled into a parking space, Kurt turned back to look at him, one hand reaching out to squeeze Finn’s arm. There was another brief moment of eye contact, Kurt smiling a close-mouthed, thin-lipped smile that didn’t suit his face. Finn gave a short nod, and they exited the car.
The two walked into school together, just like they did every day since they had started carpooling. Finn waved goodbye when he headed over to his own locker, Kurt acknowledging this with a small wave of his own. As he continued down the hallway alone, he was suddenly very aware of just how many people were staring at him. Sure, he was wearing a shirt that was very obviously Finn’s, but he hadn’t expected that many people to notice this difference in his wardrobe. Kurt started wishing that Finn was still at his side; he felt safer having the taller boy around.
Whispers followed him all the way to his locker, certain words catching his attention and making him frown. A blush was creeping up his cheeks, he could tell. Whenever he got angry, he got embarrassed and flustered first.
Just get your books out and get to class, Kurt told himself as he reached his locker. The less time you spend in the hallway, the better you’ll be. He looked over his shoulder, noticing that an extremely large boy was glaring at him in a way that he really didn’t like. Pretending not to notice, Kurt continued going about his business.
He looked over his shoulder again not ten seconds later, instantly noticing that this large boy now had a friend with him and that he had gotten closer. Kurt’s heartbeat picked up, breath hitching. He had to get to a classroom. Right now.
“Hey Kurt.”
Thank the good Lord above and all things holy for Matt Rutherford. The normally silent boy had come over to Kurt’s locker, obviously having something to say. Kurt’s face fell; Matt wasn’t doing Day of Silence?”
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m gonna talk today,” Matt continued, confirming Kurt’s conclusion. Well, he had expected that, but he hadn’t expected it to be Matt.
“Not because I don’t want to do the Day of Silence thing, because I do,” Matt kept talking, and Kurt raised an eyebrow, “it’s just that I never talk at all. Like, ever. So I thought that instead I could start talking.”
Kurt was definitely intrigued. He tilted his head slightly, adjusting his posture so he was leaning against his locker. His body language would tell Matt that he was interested.
“I just told Karofsky not to throw people in the dumpster anymore.”
Well, that was certainly a brave move.
“I mean, who knows if he’ll actually listen, but it saved Jacob Ben Israel a change of clothes. And I’m gonna say something if people say that Day of Silence is weird or stupid and I’ll tell people to lay off if anyone starts messing with you.”
And Kurt really, really liked the sound of that. He nodded, a grin breaking across his face. Having Matt sticking up for the rest of them would definitely help. And Kurt had to admit, it was nice that he was doing Day of Silence his way, because Kurt definitely wouldn’t have noticed a difference if Matt had been quiet all day. So he gave Matt the thumbs up, still smiling when the other walked off to his first classroom.
When Kurt looked over his shoulder again, he noticed that the two boys who had been looking at him were gone. Feeling much more confident, Kurt finished getting his books together and walked towards first period.
Class was uneventful, if Kurt was being honest. He hadn’t been expecting anything to happen, but he had expected more whispering. But their teacher put on a video, giving them a question sheet they were supposed to answer as they watched. That type of class hardly made not talking a big deal. Kurt was grateful, because he didn’t think he would have been able to handle a terrible day from start to finish. The start was going reasonably well so far.
His luck ran out when the period ended. Kurt put his books away, slung his bag over his shoulder, and was walking out the door when a large hand landed on his shoulder. He looked over to see who it was, stomach doing an uncomfortable flip when he recognized Karofsky.
“You’re not allowed to celebrate fag day at my school, Hummel,” Karofsky’s grip on Kurt’s shoulder tightened, his other hand closing around Kurt’s arm. “Come on, let’s put you in your place.”
It hurt to be called a fag. Karofsky’s grip on him was so tight that it was starting to hurt. But what hurt most was that he’d lost his voice. Normally he could just shrug this away, responding with a quick and witty tongue, but not today. As Karofsky turned him and started marching him down the hallway, Kurt resigned himself to spending second period inside the janitor’s closet. At least he had practiced, right?
But it seemed Karofsky had other ideas. He steered Kurt over to a row of lockers, slamming him unceremoniously against one of them. “Right then, fag, time to get back inside the closet.”
Bad puns made it worse.
But wait, they were nowhere near the janitor’s closet. That was further down the hallway, past the home-ec room, so what was going on here? Kurt turned to look behind him just as the locker next to him clicked open.
Kurt’s breath caught in his chest. They were not about to shut him in a locker. Closets and dumpsters were one thing, but lockers were a completely different story. You couldn’t move around in a locker. You couldn’t tug your phone out of your pocket and text someone and hope they’d come and get you. Inside a locker, you’re completely paralyzed, no room for movement. It was a claustrophobic’s worst nightmare, and Kurt was about to be shoved right into it.
Karofsky shifted his grip on Kurt so that he had a hand pressed on the smaller boy’s chest, forcing him backwards into the locker. There were people walking around in the hallway, looking at them and not doing anything about it. Kurt wanted to shout for someone to stop this, for someone to do something. Why didn’t anyone stop and do something?
He was shoved into the locker roughly, his head scraping on one of the little hooks inside. He lost his footing, Karofsky’s hand on his chest pressing him to the very back and keeping him upright. Kurt was convinced that he was about to be locked in here, that Karofsky’s sneer was the last thing he would see until someone found him, but then - finally - a friendly voice reached his ears.
“Karofsky, what the hell are you doing?”
Kurt made a mental note to get Matt a big, expensive thank you gift once the day was over.
“Get off him!” Matt and Mike came into Kurt’s now limited line of sight, both of them grabbing onto Karofsky’s shirt and hauling him backwards. His hand left Kurt’s chest, leaving the small boy to crumple to the bottom of the locker, legs sticking awkwardly out of it. Kurt let his head drop so his chin rested on his chest, breathing deeply and evenly, trying to calm himself down.
“Leave him alone,” Matt’s voice was forceful. “Just get out of here, Karofsky, and leave him the fuck alone.”
It was incredible how much a pissed off Matt sounded like a pissed off Puck.
A pair of hands tightened around Kurt’s arms, pulling him up and out of the locker. Kurt looked up, seeing Mike’s smile and giving him a small one in return. The other boy helped Kurt to his feet, one arm going around Kurt’s waist and staying there until Kurt was back on his own two feet.
“You okay?” Matt asked, turning from where he was watching Karofsky walk away back to Kurt and Mike. “He didn’t do anything else, did he?”
Kurt shook his head, one hand going to his chest to feel the area Karofsky had pressed against. He was certain he hadn’t pushed hard enough to break anything, but he already knew there would be a bruise. Mike’s eyes were trained on Kurt’s hand, obviously knowing why it was there.
Matt checked his watch, saying, “We’ve got two minutes until class starts. Come on, Mike, we’re walking Kurt to class.”
It was amazing how someone who was literally always in the background could come to the front and take charge when he was needed. Kurt gave Matt a grateful smile, noticing that the boy returned it. One of Mike’s hands went to Kurt’s back, guiding him down the hallway. They had second period together, so Mike knew where they were going. It was kind of funny, Mike keeping a hand on Kurt’s back the entire way there.
Matt said goodbye to the pair of them, and Mike let Kurt enter the room first, hand still at the other’s back. Kurt could hear people laughing and he knew what this had to look like, but he didn’t care. This was Mike’s way of letting him know he cared, and everyone else could go shove it.
But when class started, Kurt wished for the first time that they didn’t have such a scatterbrained teacher. Sure, she knew her stuff, but she never caught the kids who texted during class or threw things across the room or passed notes. And, unfortunately, that’s what everyone seemed to be doing today.
It hadn’t even been two minutes and Kurt felt something hit the back of his head. His hand went to the spot, touching it lightly. His fingers found a lump of a gunky… something at the base of his neck, and when he pulled this lump of whatever it was off his skin to look at it, he realized that he was back in second grade.
People were shooting spitballs at him.
He waited, knowing that more were on their way. Maybe if he slumped in his seat they wouldn’t be able to hit him. Kurt was just about to test this theory when he heard someone from the back of the room whisper loudly, “Hey, fag!”
Kurt turned in his seat slowly, eyebrows knitted together and an expression that clearly said, ‘Bait me and be destroyed,’ on his face. But nobody was looking at him. The entire back row were all looking at someone else, and Kurt followed their gaze to see them looking at Mike.
Oh shit.
Mike, who was completely unaware that any of this was going on, stiffened in his chair when the first spitball hit him. He turned around and got another one on his face. Kurt wanted to call across the room to him and tell him just to slouch in his seat, put his head on his desk, but he kept quiet. Mike had a deer-in-headlights look on his face, obviously completely taken aback by the spitballs.
Kurt had to admire how he handled things when he finally did come to terms with just what was going on. Mike turned in his seat, sitting perfectly straight and ignoring everything. Any time something would hit him, he would brush it off, tossing his bangs out of his face and keeping his eyes forward. He clearly wasn’t about to let this get to him.
But it was getting to Kurt. Mike had done nothing wrong, and all this was happening because of him. He found himself wishing that he had been shut in that locker, just so none of this would be happening.
Unfortunately, just thinking about almost being shoved in a locker was clearly too much for him today. Kurt immediately started picturing himself shut in that small metal space, arms stuck at his sides and legs uncomfortably bent. He could practically feel the cool metal pressing in on him now, the classroom lights dimming into blackness.
His breathing picked up and Kurt forced himself to focus.
You are not shut in a locker. You are in history class. You are sitting at your desk, and you are perfectly fine.
Unfortunately, the lecture their teacher was giving was nowhere near interesting enough to distract him from these thoughts. Kurt spent the rest of the period being unpleasantly reminded of just how close he had come to being shut in a locker, trying and failing to jerk himself out of these thoughts. It was almost worse than being shut in a locker for real, because a real locker couldn’t be nearly as cold and dark and small as Kurt’s imagination made it out to be.
As soon as the bell dismissed the class, Kurt ran out of the room. He made a beeline for the nearest bathroom, not even bothering to check whether it was the girls’ or boys’ room. It could have been the faculty bathroom for all he knew, but he didn’t care.
Kurt dropped his bag in the corner on the floor, going over to one of the sinks and practically collapsing in front of it. His hands rested on the cold surface, head bent and tears dripping into the bowl as if the faucet was on.
He knew he should lock himself in a stall if he wanted a good cry. Someone was bound to walk in eventually and find him and, knowing his luck, it would be Karofsky.
That thought was enough to get him up and moving. He got a paper towel from the dispenser, wetting it and wiping his face, trying to remove the obvious tear trails. Kurt looked at his reflection in the mirror, scrutinizing his complexion and knowing it wasn’t going to get much better.
You need to get back out there and show everyone that you’re stronger than this, he told himself, locking eyes with his reflection. Get back out there and prove to the entire school that you can do anything. Show them all that you’re better than them. You are a strong person. Don’t let them win.
Kurt jumped, feeling a hand on his shoulder. He almost jerked away from the touch, but he caught Rachel’s reflection in the mirror and relaxed. He turned to look at her, eyes taking in the duct tape on her mouth and the fake tattoo on her cheek. He knew what they were for, knew that Rachel had done this for Day of Silence.
It was then that he realized he was looking at the one person who might understand what he was going through. Rachel got teased all the time because of her dads, but she loved them and accepted them and never blamed them. Kurt’s eyes wandered over her face, looking for some sign of understanding, of friendship.
Then she hugged him.
Kurt’s arms moved on their own to embrace Rachel, his posture sagging and his cheek resting on her shoulder. He had never hugged Rachel before, unless their celebratory we-just-won-Sectionals-so-everyone-is-hugging-everyone-else hug counted. But that hug had lasted for about two seconds, nothing like this one, where Kurt felt like Rachel’s arms were the only thing keeping him inside himself. Her arms were protecting him, shielding him with a friend’s care.
Rachel gave him a tight squeeze before letting him go. Kurt let out a deep breath, exhaling all the air in his lungs, feeling so relieved that he could have melted onto the floor. His hardened expression was gone, replaced by a much softer one that made him feel completely relaxed. Rachel’s eyes were wide and were flicking over his face, no doubt taking in his own expression and making her feel better as well.
She pulled out a notebook and wrote something down, showing it to him. Meet me in the choir room during free period, it said. He nodded, giving her something halfway between a grimace and a smile.
Rachel left for class, but Kurt stayed put. He went back to his spot in front of the mirror, telling himself to get back out there. The bell signaling the start of third period rang, but Kurt made no movement. He just looked at his reflection in the mirror, not focusing on himself and letting his mind wander.
As soon as his mind wandered back to the locker, Kurt knew he needed to get out of there. He needed to walk around and prove to himself that he was okay. He still had the use of all four limbs. His brain was still functioning. He was still a living human being.
So Kurt picked up his bag and started walking. He left the bathroom and walked down the hallway, not really knowing where he was going. He walked past the auditorium. He walked past the gym. He walked past Mr. Schue’s Spanish classroom and Miss Pillsbury’s office. He walked until he reached the end of the hallway, then he turned around and walked back.
Eventually he reached the choir room. The lights were off and the piano was pushed back against the wall. Kurt turned the lights on and wheeled the piano into the middle of the room, wanting to make it look normal. He hated seeing the choir room like that, as if nobody was using it.
He sat down at the piano, letting his bag fall to the floor again. He didn’t start playing, because someone was sure to hear it and come ask him why he wasn’t in class. Kurt just sat there, fingers poised above the keys, and closed his eyes, imagining that he was playing any number of his favorite songs.
After singing Defying Gravity twice in his head, the pretend piano playing got boring. Kurt moved over to one of the plastic chairs instead, sitting down and curling up into a little ball. He hugged his knees so tightly that his elbows locked and it hurt, but he didn’t let go. He buried his face between his legs and his chest, closing his eyes and pretending he was back in his closet.
It took about a minute for pretending to be in his safe closet to turn into a nightmare about being locked in a locker.
The tears came soon after, the sobs muffled by his own body. He was probably getting tears all over Finn’s T-shirt, but for once in his life he didn’t care. He didn’t feel confident or sarcastic or fabulous like he usually did. He just felt sad.
When the bell rang, Kurt sniffed loudly, looking up from his knees and unlocking one arm so he could wipe at his face. He had no idea what Rachel wanted to do today, but Jesse would probably be coming with her. Kurt didn’t want either one of them to walk in on him crying.
Jesse arrived first, and he sat next to Kurt and put an arm around him. It was a little weird, because while Kurt considered Jesse to be a friend, they weren’t the let-s-hug-and-talk-about-our-feelings kind of friends. But then again, neither were he and Mike, and Mike had practically led him to class before.
So Kurt let himself lean into Jesse’s arm, let himself look up at Jesse with his still tear-filled eyes and pretend that this was normal. Jesse looked back at him, eyes wide and sad, mouth covered by a strip of duct tape. Just like Rachel.
Who, speak of the devil, had just arrived.
Rachel was the type of person who demanded the attention of everyone in the room the second she entered, even if she didn’t mean to. The way she walked and the way she carried herself spoke even when no words came out of her mouth. Even on a day like today, Rachel Berry was still Rachel freaking Berry, and Kurt loved her for it.
She had a camera swinging dangerously from one wrist, almost smacking Kurt in the face when she reached the pair of them. Rachel passed him a notebook, hovering over him as he turned it so Jesse could read over his shoulder.
We’re going to do a NOH8 photoshoot!
Kurt wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He knew what the NOH8 organization was, of course, but he wasn’t exactly in the right physical state - or frame of mind - to have a camera pointing at him. Any pictures he took today were going to turn out horribly, he was sure of it. But Rachel had already ripped off a piece of duct tape, passing it to Jesse once she pressed it to her jeans a few times.
Kurt tossed Rachel’s notebook onto the chair next to him, turning to face Jesse and leaning forward the slightest bit, giving him wordless permission to stick the piece of duct tape to his face. Jesse was very careful with it, testing it on his hand first, probably to make sure it wasn’t too sticky. When the other boy pressed it to his mouth, Kurt was taken aback by how gentle he was being. He could barely feel Jesse’s fingers pressing the tape down. Kurt kept his eyes trained on Jesse’s face, lost in thought about how this was the same Jesse St. James he had despised not three months ago.
When Rachel rejoined them, she held up a red pen and a black pen, obviously meaning to write ‘NOH8’ on Kurt’s face. This was quite different from what had happened last time someone had wanted to write on his face. Rachel’s hands were almost as gentle as Jesse’s, the tip of the pen stroking Kurt’s cheek lightly. When Rachel finished, Kurt could see the duct tape on her mouth move slightly, probably restraining a smile.
Then without warning the camera was on him. Rachel and Jesse had both left his side, and Rachel was taking his picture. Kurt wanted to tell her to stop, that this was a bad idea, that he was too embarrassed and humiliated to do this. But when Rachel Berry has an idea, you go along with it.
Come on, you, Kurt told himself. Rachel is going to take your picture whether you like it or not, so you’d better try to make these look somewhat decent!
Vanity was what got Kurt moving along with the camera. He didn’t do any poses, just adjusted his posture and his facial expressions slightly, moving the tiniest bit between each shot. If this had been a real NOH8 photoshoot with Adam Bouska in the room, he would have been hamming it up like nobody’s business, sassing the camera and making witty comments once the duct tape was off his mouth.
But this was just McKinley high school. He was just Kurt, the token gay kid who wasn’t talking for a day, and the people in the room with him were just Rachel and Jesse.
Rachel gave Jesse a nudge that was more like a deliberate elbow, and Jesse came over to stand next to Kurt. The two of them stayed like that for a while, Rachel taking their picture and moving from side to side to get different angles. Kurt wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do and he wasn’t exactly in the mood for any fun poses, but it seemed Jesse had other ideas.
Before Kurt quite knew what was going on, Jesse had an arm around him from behind, pulling him close. Kurt stiffened at first, taken aback by Jesse’s half-embrace and feeling very awkward about the whole situation. Jesse was holding him like he would hold Rachel, an arm wrapped possessively around the smaller boy, holding him so close that their bodies were pressed together. While it certainly wasn’t unpleasant, being held like that, it was weird when the guy holding you was doing it right in front of his girlfriend.
If it bothered Rachel, she didn’t show it. She just kept taking pictures, so Kurt allowed himself to relax into Jesse’s embrace. If he was being completely honest, it was very nice, being held like that. Part of him wished that it wasn’t Jesse doing it, though, because Kurt knew that they would never be more than friends, and friends didn’t hold each other like this.
Mixed feelings met him when Jesse let him go. Kurt knew it was wrong to want someone else’s boyfriend to keep holding you, but that didn’t stop him from missing the feel of Jesse’s arm around him. For a second he had been able to pretend that someone did care about him in a deeper sense of the word, but now that Jesse was right in front of him again, Kurt had to go back to reality.
But Jesse wasn’t done with him yet. Jesse got two more poses in before switching places with Rachel, who, Kurt could tell, was grinning underneath her duct tape. Jesse started taking pictures of the pair of them, and within a few minutes Kurt had forgotten all his worries. There was just him, the camera, and his competition for the spotlight. He and Rachel started to get cheeky with each other, holding their hands in front of the other’s face right as Jesse took a picture or making silly faces at each other. It was a diva-off without the singing.
Fair was fair, though, so who was Kurt to steal all the attention? He was still a team player, so after his and Rachel’s camera hogging had died down a bit, he went over to take the camera from Jesse. He held it up, an almost impatient look on his face as he waited for Jesse to go over to Rachel and take pictures with her. They were the real couple, after all.
Jesse’s arms went around Rachel’s waist almost automatically, holding her close to him in a more intimate embrace than the one he had shared with Kurt. It didn’t bother him, because he and Jesse were just friends, but it did hurt a little, seeing how the pair of them just seemed to fit together so nicely. They really were each other’s perfect match, and this showed wordlessly through their actions. Kurt wasn’t surprised at all when Jesse’s hand went to Rachel’s neck, cupping her jaw line and lowering his face so their duct tape-covered lips were pressed together.
It was beautiful. They were beautiful. The pictures Kurt was taking of them were beautiful. Everything about Rachel Berry and Jesse St. James was beautiful, and Kurt hoped that he would find something like it one day. He wished he could tell them just how beautiful he thought they were, but he wouldn’t have said anything even if he could. That was just way too sappy.
Kurt’s thoughts were broken when he realized that Jesse was motioning for him to come over. Rachel held out her hand for the camera, so he gave it to her, walking over to stand next to Jesse with confusion written all over his face. He looked over at Jesse, raising one eyebrow as Jesse turned to face him.
The eyebrow fell back into place and his whole expression softened when he felt Jesse’s arm around his waist.
Jesse St. James, what the hell do you think you’re doing? If this is what I think it is, then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought. Your girlfriend is right there!
Kurt watched Jesse’s face get closer, feeling his own face heat up. The place on his waist where Jesse was resting his arm started to tingle. A strand of that over-gelled, wavy, gorgeous brown hair brushed against Kurt’s forehead and Jesse’s nose bumped his as the older boy pressed his duct tape-covered lips against Kurt’s.
This was just too weird. Jesse St. James was pretending to kiss him in front of Rachel. Rachel Berry. His girlfriend Rachel Berry.
And this didn’t even count as a real kiss, Kurt was sure of it. Their lips weren’t even touching, but it was the closest he’d ever gotten to a real kiss with a boy. Jesse tilted his head slightly and Kurt felt the same strand of Jesse’s hair tickle his forehead again. The duct tape started feeling embarrassingly thin, and Kurt was sure his entire face had to be tinged pink.
And then Jesse’s free hand found his, fingers just barely entwining and Jesse pulled his hand up to their faces, setting it on his own neck. Kurt could feel Jesse’s pulse beneath his fingers. His entire hand started tingling and he was suddenly unable to move it, as if Jesse would push him away if he so much as moved his thumb.
One thing was for sure: when Kurt had woken up that morning, the possibility of fake-kissing Jesse St. James would have made him laugh like a crazed donkey. There was no way this could actually be happening, but here they were. And Kurt would be flat-out lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed it.
When Jesse pulled away, he did it slowly. He tilted his head back to its normal position, withdrawing his arm slowly from Kurt’s waist as he did so. Kurt’s hand practically flew back to his side, as if keeping it too long at Jesse’s neck would cause the other boy to get angry. But then Jesse’s eyes crinkled and the duct tape over his mouth moved, showing that he was smiling. Kurt smiled back, marveling at how uncomfortable it was to move your face when there’s a piece of duct tape in the way.
Jesse pulled him into a hug, one arm back around his waist and the other wrapping tightly around Kurt’s shoulders. Kurt hugged him back, trying to ignore how he seemed to just fit in Jesse’s arms. He closed his eyes, breathing in slowly and out gradually, allowing himself to simply live in the moment.
When Jesse let him go and they took a step away from each other, Kurt noticed that Rachel was gone. Panic-stricken and thinking that she had taken all of this the wrong way, Kurt bolted to the door, looking down the hallway to see her standing at the nearest water fountain. His brow creased with confusion and he felt Jesse come up behind him, no doubt also looking over at Rachel.
She turned from the fountain, amusement in her eyes at their expressions. She held up a paper towel that she had obviously just soaked under the fountain, tapping Kurt’s cheek when she reached them again.
Oh. Right.
Rachel cleaned off his cheek, moving the paper towel gently across the letters. Kurt couldn’t see how she was doing, but when she was satisfied she pulled out her compact and let him look in the mirror. Kurt turned his cheek, admiring the completely clean red patch on his face.
The duct tape came off his lips just as the bell rang. Kurt grinned at Rachel and Jesse, having forgotten all about the locker fiasco. He had two wonderful friends that cared about him enough to put together something like this. He could confidently say that he loved Rachel and Jesse.
Rachel bustled out of the room first, waving over her shoulder at the pair of them. Jesse, however, offered Kurt his arm, waiting patiently until the other linked his through. Wondering if this was the sort of treatment that Jesse gave Rachel every day, Kurt allowed himself to be escorted out the door, a smile planted firmly on his lips.
The smile was still there when Jesse dropped him off at Mr. Schuester’s classroom. Kurt gave him a grateful look before going inside, making a beeline for his desk and sitting down quickly. He wasn’t stupid; he remembered that the rest of the school wasn’t going to treat him like Jesse just had, so he wanted to draw as little attention to himself as possible. He focused on the chalkboard, which was covered with writing.
Kurt didn’t notice when Mr. Schuester motioned for quiet because he was too busy reading the chalkboard and trying to translate the paragraph. He was good at Spanish and knew most of their vocabulary off the top of his head, and the paragraph seemed simple enough. Besides, it seemed like Mr. Schue had lifted the words verbatim from the Day of Silence website, which Kurt had visited plenty of times recently.
It took him only a few minutes to get everything down on paper in English and only a little longer to make sure he’d gotten the correct forms of the words. Mr. Schue liked to put in little tricks sometimes, changing tenses halfway through so they wouldn’t get it exactly right. It kept them on their toes, but Kurt found it really annoying.
He was the first one done, so he got up from his seat and wordlessly made his way over to Mr. Schue’s desk, paper in hand. Teacher and student made eye contact for a moment, then Kurt held out his paper. Mr. Schue took it, placing it off to the side for the beginnings of a pile. There was another second of eye contact, then Mr. Schue mouthed, ‘Thank you.’
Kurt just smiled, going back to his seat.
Now came the boring part. Everyone else was still working, he had over a half hour until the class as over, and he couldn’t talk to anyone. Kurt chanced a glance around the room, watching as Quinn stood up to turn in her paper. Finn was flipping back and forth in his textbook, obviously looking up what seemed to be every other word. Kurt’s expression softened. Finn had asked him for help with Spanish a week ago, confessing that he usually got all the different endings mixed up and only knew how to say, “Necessito chocolate caliente,” which would hardly get him anywhere.
Kurt was against all forms of academic dishonesty. It was wrong and there was no excuse for it. But watching his almost-step-brother bent over his textbook, a frown on his face, and knowing that he may have been put through some serious crap today was enough for Kurt to throw all his beliefs out the window.
He pulled out his phone, careful to keep it out of Mr. Schue’s line of sight, and began typing in the English translation of the paragraph. It took quite a while, seeing how he was constantly looking up to make sure Mr. Schue wasn’t looking, but he managed to get the whole thing down eventually. Saving it as a message, he scrolled through his list of contacts, finding Finn’s number and pressing ‘send.’
Then he put his phone away. He had no intention of using it again or texting anyone else the answer. Kurt just waited, glancing over at Finn every so often, watching him as he figured out just what he had been sent.
He got one of Finn’s trademark goofy grins as a thank you, to which he responded with a grin of his own and a wink. Feeling accomplished, even though he had helped Finn cheat, Kurt turned back to his own desk, tugging a book out of his backpack and starting to read. Reading was always a good distraction.
He was distracted from his reading when the entire class started yelling.
Mr. Schue ran past him and Kurt turned in his seat, noticing that Finn was up and out of his seat, standing in front of someone else’s desk. Mr. Schue grabbed hold of Finn and pulled him back, and Kurt could see the boy at the other desk holding his nose. Kurt put two and two together and realized that Finn had probably punched the other guy. But why had he done that?
Kurt watched as Mr. Schue led Finn to the front of the room, eyes wide and never leaving Finn for an instant. He could tell Finn was angry by how tense he looked, by the way he squared his shoulders. Something had to have provoked him. Finn never lashed out for no reason. So what had the other boy done?
He tried to read his book once Finn had left and the talking had turned back into murmuring, but he couldn’t concentrate. The classroom was buzzing with a mixture of confusion and anger, and Kurt could feel angry eyes on him. Had the other boy said something to Finn about him? Was this a repeat of what had happened with Mike and the spitballs?
Kurt never got his answer. Finn smiled at him when the passed in the hallway, obviously returning from a good trip to Figgins’ office. Kurt hoped that meant he wasn’t bothered by whatever had been said, because the last thing he wanted was for Finn to start getting the word ‘fag’ thrown at him.
He wondered about this all through his next class, making him restless. He barely paid attention to what his teacher was saying, tapping his foot impatiently for almost the entire 43 minute period. Kurt wanted it to be lunch right now, so he could ask Finn what had happened. He wanted to sit with his friends and hear about what had happened during their days so far.
As is true in almost any case, when you want time to move faster, it seems to go by even slower. Kurt started checking the clock at a regular interval of every other minute, a sigh escaping his mouth every time he noticed how little time had passed. He should feel lucky because nobody was bothering him, but even teasing made the time go by faster.
He practically leaped out of his seat and bolted for the cafeteria. He didn’t even stop at his locker to grab his lunch; he didn’t have very much of an appetite anyway. Tina and Artie were already at their usual table, and Kurt sat down next to Tina, already feeling much better than he had the entire day.
The rest of the glee club arrived slowly and Kurt was practically standing on his seat looking for Finn. Where had he got to? Everyone else had already arrived, even Puck, Mike, and Matt, who usually sat somewhere else with Brittany and Santana. Matt was shouting around at anyone who made a comment about them all being silent. It seemed like quite a few of their usual tormenters were missing, which Kurt was thankful for.
But where was Finn? Kurt stood up so he could see across the cafeteria, turning slowly on the spot, searching for the boy who was usually so easy to find. Kurt didn’t think he would be sitting at another table, but he kept his eyes peeled anyway. When he sat back down, he noticed that Puck looked worried. He had obviously noticed Finn’s absence as well.
So Kurt moved down a few seats so he was sitting between Puck and Mike, scribbling in his notebook, Any idea where Finn is? He passed it and his pencil to Puck, who scrawled back, No clue. The two of them exchanged another worried look, then Puck stood up to scan the cafeteria again. Quinn, who was on Puck’s other side, pulled the notebook in front of her and wrote something as well.
He punched Karofsky’s brother in Spanish and I don’t see either one of them. Kurt looked up at her, face now panic-stricken. He began shaking his head, refusing to believe that Finn’s absence and the absence of the football team were connected.
But when Puck sat back down, saw what Quinn had written, and slammed his fist down on the table, Kurt couldn’t ignore the obvious anymore. His breath started coming in short, pitiful gasps, his eyes blurring and his hands shaking.
Matt appeared out of nowhere in front of Kurt, taking hold of his hands and saying in a soft voice, “Deep breath, Kurt, come on. Deep breath.”
It took him a couple tries, but Kurt obeyed this instruction, drawing in one long, shaky breath.
“That’s the way,” Matt squeezed his hands. “Try to calm yourself down. Count your breaths and keep doing that until your breathing regulates. Come on.” Kurt tried this as well, counting in three counts, holding it for two counts, then out for three counts.
“Good man. Now, listen to me. If something’s happened, you can’t just run around all hysterical. You’ve got to have your head on straight, okay? Finn wouldn’t want you to get all upset over him, I know it. Now, another deep breath,” Kurt did as he was told, “and off you go.”
A grateful smile was all Matt got by way of a thank you before Kurt dashed out of the cafeteria. Someone grabbed his arm and he halted, turning to see Puck’s still worried face.
“You check classrooms and I’ll check lockers,” Puck said, adding, “Sorry. For, you know, talking,” as they moved to go their separate ways. Kurt waved this away. He didn’t care if the entire Glee club burst into song, as long as Finn was okay.
Kurt started running around the hallways, peeking in the doorway of every classroom that looked empty. He tested the handles once he confirmed they weren’t in use, finding some locked. He went inside the unlocked ones, making a circle around the room until he was satisfied that Finn wasn’t there. He wasn’t entirely sure what Puck had meant when he said he’d check the lockers, but could only imagine that he had meant the locker room.
Oh God, Kurt’s face paled. The locker room! Of course! Puck wanted to check there because that’s probably where they are and he knows I wouldn’t be any use if I actually found them. His eyes blurred again and he slumped down in the nearest chair, tears spilling over onto his cheeks. They’ve got Finn in the locker room and it’s all my fault!
Kurt didn’t want to remember the last time someone had got him in there. Nothing too serious had happened, considering he’d been expecting the worst. There’d been some name-calling and they’d forced him out of his clothes, but they hadn’t done anything more than a couple smacks on the bottom. Even though Kurt had wished they’d just go back to hitting him anywhere else, he knew he was lucky. There was a lot more that could have happened to him while he had his clothes off.
As he sat there crying in the classroom, Kurt found himself wishing that he had told someone about what had happened. He’d been too embarrassed to mention it to anyone, too humiliated in the knowledge that everyone in that locker room had seen him naked. And when he got the email saying, “Don’t tell anyone or your ass is all over the school website,” Kurt had done just what they wanted and kept his mouth shut.
Maybe if I’d been brave enough to risk that, they’d have gotten kicked out of McKinley. They wouldn’t be in the locker room with Finn.
That was enough to get him up and out the door. Puck might not have wanted him in the locker room, but Finn was his brother and there was no way he was just going to sit here crying when his brother needed help. He was going to do whatever it took to get Finn away from those idiots unharmed.
But when Kurt left the classroom and saw a completely lost and disheartened Finn Hudson right in front of him, he knew that he had already lost. Puck hadn’t found him in time. Something had happened, and Kurt - even though he wasn’t religious by any means - prayed to whatever god was up there that it wasn’t anything like what had happened to him.
He grabbed hold of Finn’s arm, but the other pulled away automatically. He turned to face the smaller boy, eyes locking onto tear-filled eyes and just staring with a blank expression on his face. Then he reached out and pulled Kurt into an unexpected, tight hug.
Finn just held him there, squeezing him so tight that Kurt’s face was buried in the other’s chest. He wrapped his own arms around Finn, knowing that he was the one doing the holding, even if his own breathing was being constricted by Finn’s tight embrace. He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut until the tears went away, running one hand up and down Finn’s back soothingly, knowing how badly he had wanted someone to do that for him.
When breathing did, finally, become an issue, Kurt pulled away gently. He was reluctant to break the physical contact, knowing that it meant so much, so he reached out and took Finn’s hand. He half expected the other to protest, to pull away, but Finn allowed himself to be led down the hallway. Kurt stopped at his own locker, having noticed a cut on Finn’s chin. He was used to getting scrapes when the dumpster toss wasn’t aimed properly, so he had everything he needed in his locker.
Neosporin, Kurt’s best friend, was pulled out first, and he dabbed a bit on Finn’s chin, covering the cut. He chose a band-aid with care, knowing that purple and pink weren’t even considerations. He found a yellow one and placed it over the cut carefully, smoothing it from the middle outwards. That was how his mother had always done it.
Finn’s arm went around his shoulders just as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Finn began walking down the hallway, his arm staying where it was even when other people started coming out of their classes. Finn walked like this all the way to Kurt’s next class, even walking him to his seat and not leaving the room until Kurt sat down. Kurt decided not to mention that neither one of them had any of their things. Finn sat down next to him, his head immediately falling to the desk.
Kurt spent the rest of the period giving their teacher piercing glares if he looked like he was about to ask Finn to sit up. He had no idea what had happened to the other boy, but he knew that what Finn needed right now was time to himself. He didn’t need to be bombarded with questions from some stupid science teacher.
He almost didn’t go to his own class after science was over, wanting to stay with Finn for the rest of the day, to take him aside and hide out in the choir room so they could talk. It no longer mattered to him that it was Day of Silence. He just wanted to know what had happened and how he could help.
Mercedes found him just as he was about to turn to follow Finn, handing him his bag and slinging an arm around his waist. He let her lead him to their next class, looking over his shoulder and watching Finn go the other way.
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Kurt's Chapter: Part Two