Five times Kurt Hummel cried over Blaine Anderson, and One time he had sex on his grave.
Kurt wiped the tears from his face, setting the phone down. Another day, another call telling him he was a fool for letting Blaine go. This time it was Brittany, who, surprisingly, was suddenly Blaine's biggest fan. She'd said something about Lord Tubbington going through withdrawals without Blaine's 'happy hair gel', and how Kurt needed to make Blaine happy again so he'd resume sharing with the feline.
Kurt knew that he could've let the call go to voice mail, had known that there was a good chance Britt was going to say something along those lines, but he'd been so lonely, especially since Rachel had been spending so much time with Brody lately. Now, however, he was glad he'd taken the call. A plan was forming in his mind, and he quickly pulled out his laptop, doing a quick internet search for Blaine's preferred hair gel, and the 'accused' side effects. There had been a recall a while back, and he remembered vaguely Blaine refusing to give up the product, going so far as to scramble to every retailer he could find and buying it up like it was crack, and, thinking about it now, maybe it was.
He smiled as he skimmed through the claims of hair loss and dementia, and even one claim that a woman's husband had gone mad and ingested an entire tube of the stuff, sending him into a toxic coma. Kurt laughed low, glad he was alone, for surely Rachel would find that laugh suspicious. No matter. He had plans to make.
He lay his head against Blaine's shoulder, holding in his shudder of disgust at the thought that the last person to do this certainly wasn't him. The tears running down his cheeks weren't fake, but they weren't for the reason Blaine suspected. Blaine thought he was crying out of joy for their reunion, and perhaps for Kurt's own sheer stupidity of keeping them apart for as long as he had. A whole month, practically an eternity. Blaine had smiled like a benevolent lordling and had reached for Kurt after a long moment of silence, with a magnanimous sounding "Of course, Kurt. I knew you'd come to your senses."
Kurt had bitten his lip, trying not to curl it, knowing that for his plan to work, he needed to play this off like the ever apologetic boyfriend he'd been for too long.
Blaine pulled back, smiling smugly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, hands moving to his belt. "Now, do you want to show me how much you missed me?"
Kurt didn't have to fake the tears as he moved to his knees before Blaine, but he did have to fight down his gorge reflex.
Kurt wiped his face with the proffered tissue. "I don't think I can do this."
Dave sighed, reaching to pull Kurt up from where he was sitting on the floor. "I told you, it's tougher than you think."
Kurt looked up at him, allowing himself to be lifted to his feet. He glared without heat. "That's not what I meant. Killing him won't be a problem. It's the waiting. Every time I have to touch him, or let him touch me, I just..." He shuddered hard, feeling his stomach shift uncomfortably.
"And he hasn't noticed?" Dave's expression was dubious, but Kurt just waved him off.
"He's completely oblivious, and self centered to the point where he's convinced that I was throwing a bitch fit by not taking him back and apologizing immediately when he cheated on me." He shook his head mockingly. "He won't have any idea. And he was never really concerned for my pleasure in bed, so he hasn't even mentioned that I never get it up while we're together anymore."
Dave didn't know what to say, so he settled on an awkward "Oh." and watched Kurt pace the room. "So what's next?"
Kurt sighed deeply. "His parents are going out of town for the weekend next week. While they're gone, I'll fly home for the weekend, I've already cleared it with Isabelle, and then Blaine will have his 'crazed fit' and beat me up, then realize what he's done, and eat the tube of hair gel in his psychosis."
Dave thought it over, nodding. "So what's really going to happen?" He met Kurt's eyes, not quite sure that he was doing the right thing, but knowing that he would follow this man to hell and back, and honestly, if they were found out, that's probably what he would end up doing literally.
Kurt smiled, but it was dark. "The bruises will need to be fresh, and something I can hide until I'm in his house, so when we get to Lima, you can shove me around, bruise me under my clothes a bit, and then when I'm at his house I'll get him vulnerable, it'll be easy enough, then I'll force it down him. It might take two tubes to finish him, but he has plenty in his closet, so that won't be a problem. If I have to, I can always use a pillow."
The tears were more of a reflex to the pain than an actual sob fest, and Kurt wiped at them impatiently as he pulled his shirt tight around him, securing a scarf over his neck, hiding the purpling finger marks. "Can you see them?" At Dave's zombie like head shake, Kurt felt himself soften towards Dave. "Hey." When Dave looked back to him, Kurt lifted a finger to Dave's chin, stroking softly, smiling at the way Dave almost started purring like a cat at the gentle caress. "It'll be over soon, alright? And then we can focus on happier things, alright?"
Dave couldn't help the light of hope in his eyes, or the pure adoration there as he watched Kurt. He felt his eyes sting as he thought of what he'd done in the past half an hour, putting his hands on Kurt in a harmful way, hating himself every second. "Are you sure you're okay? I didn't want to hurt you."
Kurt smiled reassuringly at Dave. "I promise. It's nothing worse than Puck and Finn used to do when they'd toss me in the dumpster." He squared his shoulders. "Alright, I've got to go. He'll be waiting for me." He leaned up, grasping Dave's chin again, pressing his lips to Dave's in a quick, chaste kiss. "See you at home."
Dave watched him go, eyes wide in shock. He brushed his fingers over his lips, then bit back a grin as he gathered his things up from the rest stop bathroom they'd used, stuffing them into a duffel before heading back out to his car for the drive back to New York. It wouldn't do for someone to wonder what he was suddenly doing in Ohio. He watched the back end of Burt Hummel's truck disappear onto the freeway as Kurt pulled away. By the next time he saw Kurt, the plan would have succeeded or failed, and he honestly didn't know which idea he preferred.
Kurt went through an entire box of tissues while he sat talking with the police in his parent's living room. Inside his head he was calm, detached, even, knowing that he needed to keep the 'mourning lover' face on, shocked and horrified at his boyfriend's sudden and tragic descent into madness and abuse.
In the end, he'd only needed to use a single tube of the stuff, squeezed into Blaine's mouth mid-sentence as he berated Kurt for losing tone in his midsection while he was away. Blaine had choked and swallowed and then had a confused look on his face, then an angry look as he realized what Kurt had done, and Kurt had laughed softly as he watched Blaine's face go green, then ashen, finally moving to lock the bathroom door, closing Blaine in and grabbing his cell phone before crawling behind the big bed and biting his own lip to make it bleed as 'evidence' of the 'domestic violence' Blaine perpetrated on him before 'locking himself in the bathroom'.
He put a quiver in his voice as the operator came onto the line. "Hello, 911? My boyfriend's gone crazy. He hit me and he was screaming about how he was going to kill me, and now he's in the bathroom, but I heard a loud noise and he's been quiet for a long time. Can you send somebody? I'm really scared." He'd stayed on the line as she'd asked, shivering in the cold of the room. When the cops had gotten there, they'd found the front door unlocked, and had made their way up to the side bedroom where they could hear weeping. Kurt had pointed to the bathroom door, which a burly officer had kicked in, and then gasped and gone into hysterics when they found Blaine passed out and bleeding from a head wound he'd gotten when he 'fell' against the bathtub.
The police were kind and apologetic for Kurt's loss, and assured him that it was a very cut and dried case, that unfortunately Blaine hadn't been the only victim of the 'Evil Hairgel'.
After they'd left, Kurt had laid his head on his Dad's chest, crying softly, not in grief like everyone thought, but in relief that the scourge known as Blaine Anderson was finally gone, and would never torment another soul who loved him again. After a while, he'd excused himself to his room, fiddling with his phone before calling Dave. He needed him at the funeral. He needed someone there who knew him for what he was and wouldn't judge him or look at him with pity.
It had been a year since Kurt had gained his freedom, in mind and soul. There had been a candle lighting the day before, spearheaded by the New Directions along with the Warblers. Everyone who could make it had come into town to sing Katy Perry and tell stories and cry together. Kurt had managed to sing 'Fucking Perfect' to the headstone without bursting into laughter, but it had been a close thing.
Now he stood beneath the trees that protected Blaine's grave, holding Dave's hand, enjoying the quiet.
Dave squeezed Kurt's hand, reminding him of his presence. "Do you ever regret it?"
Kurt looked at him, surprised. "Regret it? Absolutely not." He got a mischievous look in his eye that Dave knew so well. "In fact... I have an idea."
Dave started shaking his head, rolling his eyes to the starlit sky. "What now, Hummel?"
Kurt grinned, pressing his face up into Dave's neck, biting gently on his earlobe before whispering his idea. "Fuck me? Right here on his grave?" He licked his lips and waited.
Dave's jaw dropped and he pulled away enough to look Kurt in the eye. "What the- Seriously? Doesn't that strike you as extremely macabre?" Kurt just shimmied his shoulders and lowered his eyelids, biting down on his lower lip suggestively. "Oh, God. I wish I knew how to tell you no."
Kurt giggled at the win. He started tugging at Dave's belt buckle, grinning as he leaned up for a kiss. "Well that would be silly, because we both know I always get my way."
Dave just moaned as Kurt's hand breached his jeans, knowing when he was beaten.