Leave Me Breathless (Chapter 7)
A/N: Just a reminder - Kurt and Blaine in this trilogy are both high school seniors. Because that’s what seemed to be the case when I was writing the first part. And it’s still my headcanon, no matter what.
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7. CONFUSED
By the middle of October, Kurt had gone from confused, through anxious, to seriously worried. Something was wrong, but with Blaine changing the topic whenever he tried to talk about it, Kurt felt lost and unsure how to proceed, what to do to help and how not to screw it all up.
At first he thought the stress of being at a new school, public school again, was getting to Blaine, but no, it actually went better than Kurt expected - than he’d anxiously anticipated. With Karofsky gone, the rest of the jocks were suddenly much more subdued, no longer openly bullying anyone, and Blaine, just like Kurt, had long ago learned not to pay attention to slurs and hateful words flying in their direction. Enough time had passed that between the therapy and the peaceful summer Blaine no longer showed symptoms of PTSD. His immediate acceptance into the New Directions and being already well-liked by everyone there helped. Having Finn, Puck and Santana among his closest friends didn’t hurt either.
So no, school wasn’t the problem. Blaine seemed happy there. His was good at home too, his parents much more present in his life than last year, not to mention accepting for a change. This didn’t leave much to blame the problem on, actually - nothing but the obvious. If it wasn’t home or school, it had to be something about their relationship, although Kurt had no idea what it was. Most of the time everything was perfect, but then, out of the blue, it suddenly wasn’t. And Kurt could handle his own confusion and anxiety, but he could see how frustrated Blaine was getting about it, which was the final push, the last straw that made him look for help where he did.
He approached his dad in the garage late Monday afternoon, when everyone else had already left. This was a conversation he wanted to keep between the two of them. Sitting by the table in the small office where his dad was going through the orders, Kurt turned what he wanted to say over in his head, around and around, looking for the best way to phrase it. Finally he decided to just go for it.
“Dad? I need to ask you for something.”
“If it’s about that winter coat you don’t need that costs way more than a sane man would pay, then the answer is still no.”
“No… It’s something else.”
Something in Kurt’s voice must have betrayed him, because his dad looked at him with concern.
“Everything alright, kiddo?”
“Yes. Or… no, not really. Dad, can I make an appointment with Blaine’s therapist?” He saw panic flash in his father’s kind, patient eyes, so he added quickly. “No, no, it’s not about me, you have nothing to worry about. It’s just… I don’t know how to help him sometimes, how to talk to him, you know? He has these moments… Nothing serious, just… I guess if I talked about it with someone who specializes in work with people who’ve had this kind of trauma, I wouldn’t be so afraid to do something wrong, hurt him…”
His dad nodded slowly. If he’d guessed what kind of moments Kurt was talking about, he didn’t show it.
“Of course you can make an appointment. Do you want me to find her number?”
“No, I already kind of… borrowed her card from Blaine’s desk and wrote it down. I just wanted your permission.”
“Sure. Go ahead. But… Kurt, if there was something serious going on, with you or Blaine, you’d tell me, right?”
Kurt smiled softly and got up to hug his dad.
“Of course I would, dad. I promise.”
Sitting in the elegant, soothing room now, in a comfortable armchair, it all felt so much more real. More serious than just a couple of relationship questions, more adult and mature. For a moment, Kurt felt like a silly teenager making a mountain out of a molehill, but then he chastised himself: it was serious and adult and mature. What happened to Blaine was not a teenage prank; it was stuff that many adults couldn’t cope with for years. The fact that Blaine seemed to be dealing with it so well was a blessing and evidence of his strength and bravery. Wanting to help him and not ruin all of Blaine’s efforts was not just some silly notion.
The kind looking, middle aged woman sitting opposite Kurt - Bonnie Etcher - smiled encouragingly. She was plump and pretty, and her grey eyes looked at him without any judgment or reservations, waiting for him to speak. He sighed and began.
“I’m Blaine Anderson’s boyfriend.” Her expression remained neutral, open, but the smallest change in her eyes made Kurt add quickly. “I know you won’t tell me anything about his therapy, or even confirm that he’s your patient, but that’s all right, that’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why are you here, Kurt?”
“I need…” he braced himself; he’d rehearsed what he wanted to say dozens of times during the days since his phone call, but actually saying it to someone, a stranger, was still tough. Kurt straightened his back, took a deep breath; enough of this nonsense, I need this talk. We need it. Looking Bonnie in the eyes, more boldly than he felt, he said it. “I need to talk about issues related to being intimate with a rape survivor.”
The therapist nodded.
“First of all, I’m glad you’re using the term survivor and not victim. It’s a small, but important detail. Second of all, you know I can’t confirm or deny that your boyfriend is or ever was my patient, so let me ask you: when you’re saying rape survivor, you mean him, yes?”
“Yes.”
“How much do you know about his assault?”
Kurt shuddered at the memory.
“Everything. I was there with him when he gave his statement to the police. I know every detail. I held him in my arms after countless nightmares and supported him every step of the way, from the very beginning. I saw his injuries, I know his triggers and how to soothe him. I know it all. But now we’ve started on the road... um, towards something more... physical? And I don’t know, and he won’t talk, and I’m afraid to hurt him, or make it worse. That’s why I need help.”
“Intimacy, physical closeness can be very difficult after sexual trauma. It’s good that you recognize this. Tell me more about your sex life.” Seeing Kurt’s evident discomfort and furious blush, she added. “It’s all right. You know that everything you say here is confidential.”
“I know. It’s not that. I’m just… not used to talking about this. It’s all new for me. You see, Blaine’s my first boyfriend, so... But yes, I know it’s necessary. Okay. So… We’ve been together for over half a year now, and from the very beginning we’ve decided to take it as slow as we needed. This suited us both, it took some time before we even started kissing, and up till recently we were doing just this, only more and, um… not just lips. But now we’ve gone a step further into touching um… below the belt… over clothes. And that’s when the problem first started.”
“Okay, tell me more about the problem.”
“We are both ready for this. I know we are, we’d talked about it before and several times since then, and I can see Blaine wants it, he’s absolutely certain. But the first time, I touched him and he jerked back, away from me. And I thought it was maybe because I didn’t ask first, that he was surprised, even though he saw what I was doing. So I stopped and left it at that. The next time I waited until he asked me to touch him. Begged me, actually.” Kurt felt his face burn with the intense blush at the memory. “And yet, as soon as I touched his…him, he was off the bed. He said he didn’t know why, it was instinct, and he really wanted it, so we kept going, but… but… He told me to touch him again, and I did, and I could see he was trying hard not to flinch, and he went… um… soft. Under my hand.”
“That must have been awkward for both of you.”
“It was. But we’re good at awkward. We talked a little and even laughed at the end, talking about first time nerves… But since then… That was at the beginning of September. And ever since then, Blaine either avoids going that far at all or…”
“Or?”
“Or um…” Kurt wasn’t sure if he’d ever been as flustered before, but he was determined to push through. “Twice he took care of himself while touching me. Presumably by accident, just… pressing against me or the bed, but Blaine really can’t lie, so I know it was no accident and I don’t know what to think… And before you ask, I don’t mind waiting, I’ll give him all the time in the world if that’s what he needs. I’d be just fine with doing nothing sexual at all. But it’s not that Blaine isn’t ready, you know? He is. When he flinches, there’s no panic or discomfort or anything like that, it’s like a reflex, the way you instinctively take your hand away from fire. And this is breaking him; he avoids the topic lately, he’s guarded, more distant with me. I can see how frustrated he is when he wants and he’s fine with it, and then it’s like his body rebels.”
“Body memory.”
Kurt looked up from his hands that were easier to talk to about these things than an actual human being. Bonnie was looking at him calmly.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s called body memory. The mind has already processed the rape, it’s over it and okay with what’s happening, rationally everything is fine, but the body remembers - the unwanted touches or the pain, and it reacts instinctively. Can you think of anything that could cause this particular reaction?”
Kurt remembered those torturous hours at the police station, holding Blaine’s hand and listening to him describing what that sick bastard had done to him. The pain in his chest was still there, even after all these months, at the image of someone, anyone hurting the boy Kurt loved. He didn’t like to be reminded, but now he carefully searched through the tear-soaked memories for something that could relate to Blaine’s recent reactions.
And there it was. The moment before the rape, when nothing had seemed wrong yet and Eric had touched Blaine only to realize he really hadn’t been turned on or interested in going further than kissing. That was the fine line between seduction and assault; the point after which everything went wrong.
No wonder his body remembered.
“Yes. I know exactly what it must have been.” Kurt’s voice was shaky. “So what can I do about it?”
“Not much, I’m afraid, apart from accepting it. It may pass with time, or maybe it will always be a trigger. For now, the best solution would be to leave this particular way of touching alone. Try to find a way around it. Do what’s comfortable for both of you. And don’t worry too much about it, Kurt. You’re doing a great job. Blaine must feel really safe with you and comfortable with this slow, steady progress, judging from what you’re telling me. It’s a big achievement, Kurt. I wish every rape or assault survivor had such a supportive, understanding partner.”
Kurt felt himself blush for entirely different reason now, his eyes a little teary.
“You really think so?”
“Yes. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing all along: talk. Communicate. Take things at your own speed. Always ask if he’s ready, if it’s okay, never assume anything. Let him be in control when you try new things, encourage him to talk, to guide you whenever he needs it. There are times when it may seem like something’s wrong - certain positions may be a trigger for example. There may be moments when he needs to stop in the middle of perfectly delightful sexual activity, even if everything is going smoothly. Or he may cry. It’s normal, it’s nothing bad, these are all coping mechanisms. Just be open to his needs and your own, and communicate, and you’ll both be fine.”
Kurt sighed and nodded, grateful. It sounded reasonable and, more importantly, gave him back hope.
“Thank you.”
A week passed before they found themselves alone in Blaine’s empty house, his parents away on business again. They were supposed to go back to Kurt’s in the evening, but they had a few hours to themselves before that and Kurt had every intention of using this time wisely. He just missed Blaine, physically; missed his touch, his frantic heartbeat under Kurt’s fingers and sweaty-slick skin of his neck during their more passionate make outs. He missed Blaine’s breathy moans that meant he was close, and his trembling fingers on Kurt’s skin. They didn’t have much time lately, with school and family obligations, Glee and the school musical, and Blaine’s newly acquired reluctance to be touched didn’t help either.
But Kurt had his ways. He’d learned a lot in the time they were together, and had long since stopped doubting his own ability to shamelessly turn Blaine on in a matter of minutes. And he fully intended to use that power. Because if Blaine stubbornly avoided talking about the obvious problem, Kurt had no choice but to try and solve it by himself. Only if Blaine agreed, of course.
Kurt wasn’t the only hormonal teenage boy in the room, so it didn’t take long at all before they were both half-naked on Blaine’s bed, Kurt on top and showing Blaine just how much he loved touching him, kissing, being close and intimate and together like this. And from there, it was only moments until Blaine’s whimper ended with broken, raw Oh god, Kurt, I want you so bad.
And since Kurt had thought this through and knew perfectly well what he wanted to try, this was just the moment he’d hoped for. He slid off to the side, smoothed his hand down his boyfriend’s stomach - low, lower, until his fingertips touched the elastic waistband of Blaine’s yoga pants... and then slid slowly under, just a tiny bit. Blaine’s breathing was rapidly changing into panting, his back arching off the bed. Kurt leaned into a soft kiss and whispered against the other boy’s kiss-puffed lips.
“May I?”
The answer was immediate, high and breathless.
“Yes. Yesyesyes.”
And then it was just Kurt’s hand on the hot, velvet-soft skin of Blaine’s cock. It was slick moisture on the tip smeared over by Kurt’s thumb and the perfect weight in his firm grip, and his heart beating like crazy to the sound of KurtKurtKurt repeated in reverent whisper until Blaine shuddered and keened, and pulsed with release over Kurt’s fingers. And he couldn’t help moaning too, because it was almost better than coming himself, the realization that he could do this to Blaine. For Blaine. That he could make him feel so good. And that he did it, he’d found a way around a triggering memory.
Holding Blaine tightly, Kurt waited through the aftershocks to see his amber eyes open and smile at him.
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The next chapter: Hands-on
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7. CONFUSED
By the middle of October, Kurt had gone from confused, through anxious, to seriously worried. Something was wrong, but with Blaine changing the topic whenever he tried to talk about it, Kurt felt lost and unsure how to proceed, what to do to help and how not to screw it all up.
At first he thought the stress of being at a new school, public school again, was getting to Blaine, but no, it actually went better than Kurt expected - than he’d anxiously anticipated. With Karofsky gone, the rest of the jocks were suddenly much more subdued, no longer openly bullying anyone, and Blaine, just like Kurt, had long ago learned not to pay attention to slurs and hateful words flying in their direction. Enough time had passed that between the therapy and the peaceful summer Blaine no longer showed symptoms of PTSD. His immediate acceptance into the New Directions and being already well-liked by everyone there helped. Having Finn, Puck and Santana among his closest friends didn’t hurt either.
So no, school wasn’t the problem. Blaine seemed happy there. His was good at home too, his parents much more present in his life than last year, not to mention accepting for a change. This didn’t leave much to blame the problem on, actually - nothing but the obvious. If it wasn’t home or school, it had to be something about their relationship, although Kurt had no idea what it was. Most of the time everything was perfect, but then, out of the blue, it suddenly wasn’t. And Kurt could handle his own confusion and anxiety, but he could see how frustrated Blaine was getting about it, which was the final push, the last straw that made him look for help where he did.
He approached his dad in the garage late Monday afternoon, when everyone else had already left. This was a conversation he wanted to keep between the two of them. Sitting by the table in the small office where his dad was going through the orders, Kurt turned what he wanted to say over in his head, around and around, looking for the best way to phrase it. Finally he decided to just go for it.
“Dad? I need to ask you for something.”
“If it’s about that winter coat you don’t need that costs way more than a sane man would pay, then the answer is still no.”
“No… It’s something else.”
Something in Kurt’s voice must have betrayed him, because his dad looked at him with concern.
“Everything alright, kiddo?”
“Yes. Or… no, not really. Dad, can I make an appointment with Blaine’s therapist?” He saw panic flash in his father’s kind, patient eyes, so he added quickly. “No, no, it’s not about me, you have nothing to worry about. It’s just… I don’t know how to help him sometimes, how to talk to him, you know? He has these moments… Nothing serious, just… I guess if I talked about it with someone who specializes in work with people who’ve had this kind of trauma, I wouldn’t be so afraid to do something wrong, hurt him…”
His dad nodded slowly. If he’d guessed what kind of moments Kurt was talking about, he didn’t show it.
“Of course you can make an appointment. Do you want me to find her number?”
“No, I already kind of… borrowed her card from Blaine’s desk and wrote it down. I just wanted your permission.”
“Sure. Go ahead. But… Kurt, if there was something serious going on, with you or Blaine, you’d tell me, right?”
Kurt smiled softly and got up to hug his dad.
“Of course I would, dad. I promise.”
Sitting in the elegant, soothing room now, in a comfortable armchair, it all felt so much more real. More serious than just a couple of relationship questions, more adult and mature. For a moment, Kurt felt like a silly teenager making a mountain out of a molehill, but then he chastised himself: it was serious and adult and mature. What happened to Blaine was not a teenage prank; it was stuff that many adults couldn’t cope with for years. The fact that Blaine seemed to be dealing with it so well was a blessing and evidence of his strength and bravery. Wanting to help him and not ruin all of Blaine’s efforts was not just some silly notion.
The kind looking, middle aged woman sitting opposite Kurt - Bonnie Etcher - smiled encouragingly. She was plump and pretty, and her grey eyes looked at him without any judgment or reservations, waiting for him to speak. He sighed and began.
“I’m Blaine Anderson’s boyfriend.” Her expression remained neutral, open, but the smallest change in her eyes made Kurt add quickly. “I know you won’t tell me anything about his therapy, or even confirm that he’s your patient, but that’s all right, that’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why are you here, Kurt?”
“I need…” he braced himself; he’d rehearsed what he wanted to say dozens of times during the days since his phone call, but actually saying it to someone, a stranger, was still tough. Kurt straightened his back, took a deep breath; enough of this nonsense, I need this talk. We need it. Looking Bonnie in the eyes, more boldly than he felt, he said it. “I need to talk about issues related to being intimate with a rape survivor.”
The therapist nodded.
“First of all, I’m glad you’re using the term survivor and not victim. It’s a small, but important detail. Second of all, you know I can’t confirm or deny that your boyfriend is or ever was my patient, so let me ask you: when you’re saying rape survivor, you mean him, yes?”
“Yes.”
“How much do you know about his assault?”
Kurt shuddered at the memory.
“Everything. I was there with him when he gave his statement to the police. I know every detail. I held him in my arms after countless nightmares and supported him every step of the way, from the very beginning. I saw his injuries, I know his triggers and how to soothe him. I know it all. But now we’ve started on the road... um, towards something more... physical? And I don’t know, and he won’t talk, and I’m afraid to hurt him, or make it worse. That’s why I need help.”
“Intimacy, physical closeness can be very difficult after sexual trauma. It’s good that you recognize this. Tell me more about your sex life.” Seeing Kurt’s evident discomfort and furious blush, she added. “It’s all right. You know that everything you say here is confidential.”
“I know. It’s not that. I’m just… not used to talking about this. It’s all new for me. You see, Blaine’s my first boyfriend, so... But yes, I know it’s necessary. Okay. So… We’ve been together for over half a year now, and from the very beginning we’ve decided to take it as slow as we needed. This suited us both, it took some time before we even started kissing, and up till recently we were doing just this, only more and, um… not just lips. But now we’ve gone a step further into touching um… below the belt… over clothes. And that’s when the problem first started.”
“Okay, tell me more about the problem.”
“We are both ready for this. I know we are, we’d talked about it before and several times since then, and I can see Blaine wants it, he’s absolutely certain. But the first time, I touched him and he jerked back, away from me. And I thought it was maybe because I didn’t ask first, that he was surprised, even though he saw what I was doing. So I stopped and left it at that. The next time I waited until he asked me to touch him. Begged me, actually.” Kurt felt his face burn with the intense blush at the memory. “And yet, as soon as I touched his…him, he was off the bed. He said he didn’t know why, it was instinct, and he really wanted it, so we kept going, but… but… He told me to touch him again, and I did, and I could see he was trying hard not to flinch, and he went… um… soft. Under my hand.”
“That must have been awkward for both of you.”
“It was. But we’re good at awkward. We talked a little and even laughed at the end, talking about first time nerves… But since then… That was at the beginning of September. And ever since then, Blaine either avoids going that far at all or…”
“Or?”
“Or um…” Kurt wasn’t sure if he’d ever been as flustered before, but he was determined to push through. “Twice he took care of himself while touching me. Presumably by accident, just… pressing against me or the bed, but Blaine really can’t lie, so I know it was no accident and I don’t know what to think… And before you ask, I don’t mind waiting, I’ll give him all the time in the world if that’s what he needs. I’d be just fine with doing nothing sexual at all. But it’s not that Blaine isn’t ready, you know? He is. When he flinches, there’s no panic or discomfort or anything like that, it’s like a reflex, the way you instinctively take your hand away from fire. And this is breaking him; he avoids the topic lately, he’s guarded, more distant with me. I can see how frustrated he is when he wants and he’s fine with it, and then it’s like his body rebels.”
“Body memory.”
Kurt looked up from his hands that were easier to talk to about these things than an actual human being. Bonnie was looking at him calmly.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s called body memory. The mind has already processed the rape, it’s over it and okay with what’s happening, rationally everything is fine, but the body remembers - the unwanted touches or the pain, and it reacts instinctively. Can you think of anything that could cause this particular reaction?”
Kurt remembered those torturous hours at the police station, holding Blaine’s hand and listening to him describing what that sick bastard had done to him. The pain in his chest was still there, even after all these months, at the image of someone, anyone hurting the boy Kurt loved. He didn’t like to be reminded, but now he carefully searched through the tear-soaked memories for something that could relate to Blaine’s recent reactions.
And there it was. The moment before the rape, when nothing had seemed wrong yet and Eric had touched Blaine only to realize he really hadn’t been turned on or interested in going further than kissing. That was the fine line between seduction and assault; the point after which everything went wrong.
No wonder his body remembered.
“Yes. I know exactly what it must have been.” Kurt’s voice was shaky. “So what can I do about it?”
“Not much, I’m afraid, apart from accepting it. It may pass with time, or maybe it will always be a trigger. For now, the best solution would be to leave this particular way of touching alone. Try to find a way around it. Do what’s comfortable for both of you. And don’t worry too much about it, Kurt. You’re doing a great job. Blaine must feel really safe with you and comfortable with this slow, steady progress, judging from what you’re telling me. It’s a big achievement, Kurt. I wish every rape or assault survivor had such a supportive, understanding partner.”
Kurt felt himself blush for entirely different reason now, his eyes a little teary.
“You really think so?”
“Yes. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing all along: talk. Communicate. Take things at your own speed. Always ask if he’s ready, if it’s okay, never assume anything. Let him be in control when you try new things, encourage him to talk, to guide you whenever he needs it. There are times when it may seem like something’s wrong - certain positions may be a trigger for example. There may be moments when he needs to stop in the middle of perfectly delightful sexual activity, even if everything is going smoothly. Or he may cry. It’s normal, it’s nothing bad, these are all coping mechanisms. Just be open to his needs and your own, and communicate, and you’ll both be fine.”
Kurt sighed and nodded, grateful. It sounded reasonable and, more importantly, gave him back hope.
“Thank you.”
A week passed before they found themselves alone in Blaine’s empty house, his parents away on business again. They were supposed to go back to Kurt’s in the evening, but they had a few hours to themselves before that and Kurt had every intention of using this time wisely. He just missed Blaine, physically; missed his touch, his frantic heartbeat under Kurt’s fingers and sweaty-slick skin of his neck during their more passionate make outs. He missed Blaine’s breathy moans that meant he was close, and his trembling fingers on Kurt’s skin. They didn’t have much time lately, with school and family obligations, Glee and the school musical, and Blaine’s newly acquired reluctance to be touched didn’t help either.
But Kurt had his ways. He’d learned a lot in the time they were together, and had long since stopped doubting his own ability to shamelessly turn Blaine on in a matter of minutes. And he fully intended to use that power. Because if Blaine stubbornly avoided talking about the obvious problem, Kurt had no choice but to try and solve it by himself. Only if Blaine agreed, of course.
Kurt wasn’t the only hormonal teenage boy in the room, so it didn’t take long at all before they were both half-naked on Blaine’s bed, Kurt on top and showing Blaine just how much he loved touching him, kissing, being close and intimate and together like this. And from there, it was only moments until Blaine’s whimper ended with broken, raw Oh god, Kurt, I want you so bad.
And since Kurt had thought this through and knew perfectly well what he wanted to try, this was just the moment he’d hoped for. He slid off to the side, smoothed his hand down his boyfriend’s stomach - low, lower, until his fingertips touched the elastic waistband of Blaine’s yoga pants... and then slid slowly under, just a tiny bit. Blaine’s breathing was rapidly changing into panting, his back arching off the bed. Kurt leaned into a soft kiss and whispered against the other boy’s kiss-puffed lips.
“May I?”
The answer was immediate, high and breathless.
“Yes. Yesyesyes.”
And then it was just Kurt’s hand on the hot, velvet-soft skin of Blaine’s cock. It was slick moisture on the tip smeared over by Kurt’s thumb and the perfect weight in his firm grip, and his heart beating like crazy to the sound of KurtKurtKurt repeated in reverent whisper until Blaine shuddered and keened, and pulsed with release over Kurt’s fingers. And he couldn’t help moaning too, because it was almost better than coming himself, the realization that he could do this to Blaine. For Blaine. That he could make him feel so good. And that he did it, he’d found a way around a triggering memory.
Holding Blaine tightly, Kurt waited through the aftershocks to see his amber eyes open and smile at him.
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The next chapter: Hands-on