Future!Fic. Some time after graduating college, Kurt is in New York and ends up in an abusive relationship. He's scared and alone, and it happens so slowly he hardly realises he's become a battered wife. Eventually, after one particularly bad fight where he boyfriend roughs him up, after he storms out of their apartment, Kurt calls Burt and tells him what happened. Burt and Finn (by now his step-brother, crush uncrushed) hop on the next plane out there to rescue him. I have an image of Kurt just sitting here, beaten and bloody, sitting against the foot of the bed, white silks spilled onto the floor, shaken and just staring into space until Burt and Finn get there, hours later, in my head
( ... )
seven for a secret (never to be told) - 2Asj_rMarch 3 2011, 13:16:15 UTC
Kurt cringed at the noises his car made as he slowed down, searching for an empty spot in the enormous parking lot of all nearby apartment complexes. He’d need to see the motor sometime soon. Sooner than soon
( ... )
Feeling numb, Kurt wandered to the bathroom, legs silent on the thick carpets covering the floors. He couldn’t hear anything but the steady murmurs of pleasure and love, of care and help, of sex and sin. Of Rick and Kurt. Of Rick and someone who wasn’t Kurt. Of Rick and Carl
( ... )
When the front door slammed shut, Kurt didn’t look up from his drink. It was still untouched, now cold in the brightly colored cup. He had briefly thought about going and letting it flow down the sink but getting up had taken too much power, too much strength, too much will. So Kurt sat still in his seat at the side of the table
( ... )
Rick’s hands grabbed him, dragging him by his hair. Kurt whimpered, scrambling along on all fours, already spilling apologies and pleads that were silenced by another kick
( ... )
Kurt wasn’t sure when his hearing came back. His mind didn’t register the words, only the fists hitting him everywhere, the anger, the loathing in the words, the faults Rick tried to fix… He just didn’t care anymore. Didn’t have the strength to.
Kurt Hummel knew it was wrong. Kurt Alvaro pushed the thoughts away. Rick loved him. He did. He just had troubles showing it. He really had. That was the truth.
A loud sob left Kurt’s mouth despite the lack of touches on his body, in his mind, anywhere.
“Clean this mess up”, the latino spoke, acting as if nothing had happened at all. Kurt heard a zipper. It went up. That was good. “I’ll be back tomorrow night. I expect to have food ready when I come.”
Kurt had no idea how long he laid on the bed, staring at the iron bedpost, unblinking, not thinking, just breathing trough aching air pipes, existing
( ... )
Kurt didn’t reply. The voice sounded familiar… too familiar. Nice and gentle, something from his deepest memories. He wasn’t supposed to think of those anymore. He felt ashamed to. He felt ashamed of not thinking them
( ... )
Kurt didn’t reply. The voice sounded familiar… too familiar. Nice and gentle, something from his deepest memories. He wasn’t supposed to think of those anymore. He felt ashamed to. He felt ashamed of not thinking them
( ... )
Burt didn’t want to think of that. He didn’t have the time to as the second he set his foot in the dimly lit room, all he could see was a white figure curled up next to a mahogany nightstand
( ... )
Finn had returned with a quilted blanket, deep fuchsia with golden stitches. Burt took it gratefully, cringing at the thought of what was to come next.
“Kurt? I need to move you. I won’t do anything else, okay? We’ll get you in the blanket. Those sheets seem cold and dirty. Come on.”
Manhandling Kurt out of the sheets and onto the blanket wasn’t an easy task. The brunet cried out with every jostle of his body, lashing out with his hands whenever Burt’s fingers slipped too close to his privates. Finn stood awkwardly by the bed, grunting with some sort of negative feeling when another bit of Kurt’s skin was revealed.
When Burt was done, Kurt had gone unresponsive again.
They were in a hospital room, Kurt on the bed, Burt standing next to it with his hand atop Kurt’s. The brunet was sleeping. Not unconscious, the nurses had said - they’d given him some pills to keep him calm. Sedated him
( ... )
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Kurt Hummel knew it was wrong. Kurt Alvaro pushed the thoughts away. Rick loved him. He did. He just had troubles showing it. He really had. That was the truth.
A loud sob left Kurt’s mouth despite the lack of touches on his body, in his mind, anywhere.
“Clean this mess up”, the latino spoke, acting as if nothing had happened at all. Kurt heard a zipper. It went up. That was good. “I’ll be back tomorrow night. I expect to have food ready when I come.”
The door slammed shut like it had done hours ago.
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“Kurt? I need to move you. I won’t do anything else, okay? We’ll get you in the blanket. Those sheets seem cold and dirty. Come on.”
Manhandling Kurt out of the sheets and onto the blanket wasn’t an easy task. The brunet cried out with every jostle of his body, lashing out with his hands whenever Burt’s fingers slipped too close to his privates. Finn stood awkwardly by the bed, grunting with some sort of negative feeling when another bit of Kurt’s skin was revealed.
When Burt was done, Kurt had gone unresponsive again.
It might have been a good thing.
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