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Kurt had complicated feelings regarding gender. Being thrown into a dumpster day after day for having the audacity to wear clothing with colors would make anyone question where they belonged, and Kurt’s history didn’t help. Fashion had no gender, sure, but Kurt had a gender assigned to him long before he had fashion sense, and he often wondered how different his life would be if he had been the daughter of Burt and Elizabeth Hummel, rather than the son. Kurt tried to avoid thinking about his mom, avoided Tina for a while after having told her. Kurt had bigger problems to handle.
“I take it we have a lot of sweater trades to look forward to this season.” Tina commented, happy Kurt wasn’t still avoiding her. Before Kurt could respond, Karofsky walked between Tina and Kurt, shoving Kurt against the lockers. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Fine.” Kurt was used to this.
Anyway, Kurt had a complicated relationship with gender. “Kurt! I’m gonna say it again, boys’ team.” Mr. Schuester admonished, and Kurt was relegated to the boys’ team, where his input would at best be ignored. After Glee, Kurt yet again got shoved against the lockers, aggravating his pain from the earlier attack.
“What is your problem?”
“You talking back to me? You want a piece of the Fury?”
“The Fury?”
“It’s what I named my fists.” Kurt quipped a rapid-fire insult regarding Karofsky’s creativity, was threatened with the Fury, and shoved against the lockers a third time. He inhaled sharply as Karofsky walked away. At least that was over.
Kurt was never going to be appreciated on the boys’ team, but he didn’t think they’d stoop so low as to claim Kurt in a feather boa and a gown was exactly what you’d expect. Who did Artie think he was? Kurt was a man, and while drag was a gay artform, it was still far from expected in rural Ohio. Puck suggested Kurt go spy on the opposition, and Kurt agreed, in part so he wouldn’t have to be insulted by his supposed friends some more.
Dalton Academy was a whirlwind of activity. The Glee club was cool. Blaine was kind enough to invite Kurt for a latte, not instigate his beatdown the way New Directions would have, and even laughed when Kurt asked if everyone at Dalton was gay. They weren’t. Blaine was. Blaine had even gone to public school before, been taunted, had advice for Kurt. Kurt wanted to stand up for himself. He wanted to be a man, be strong regardless of how easily Karofsky could physically destroy him. Blaine’s advice just gave Kurt an excuse to mouth off the way had been fantasizing about.
“I am talking to you!”
“Girls locker room’s next door.”
“What is your problem?”
“Excuse me?”
“What are you so scared of?”
“'Sides you sneaking in here to peek at my junk?”
“Oh yeah, every straight guy’s nightmare, that all us gays are secretly out to molest and convert you. Well guess what, Hamhock? You’re not my type.” Kurt was slightly proud of that insult - comparing Karofsky to a piece of meat that was notoriously difficult to cook, just like Karofsky is notoriously difficult to tolerate.
“That right?” Kurt missed the underlying threat in Karofsky’s tone, the step closer to him
“Yeah. I don’t like chubby boys who sweat too much and are gonna be bald by the time they’re thirty.”
“Do not push me, Hummel.”
Kurt had a death wish. “You gonna hit me? Do it.”
“Don’t push me!”
“Hit me, 'cause it’s not gonna change who I am. You can’t punch the gay out of me anymore than I can push the ignoramus out of you.”
“Get out of my face!” Karofsky shouted, but Kurt was on a roll. He wasn’t going to listen to Karofsky unless Karofsky made him.
“You are nothing but a scared little boy who can’t handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are!”
Karofsky did the opposite of getting out of Kurt’s face. His giant hand held Kurt’s face towards his own as he kissed him. Kurt froze, unable to comprehend what was happening, until Karofsky leaned in again. Then Kurt pushed him, scrambling backwards, hand covering his mouth so if Karofsky tried again it wouldn’t be against his lips. This was when it happened, Kurt thought. The fear felt familiar, too familiar, memories from decades prior were making themselves known to Kurt’s body as his bully hit the locker and left. Kurt couldn’t move.
His mom had held him against her, had kissed him on the mouth. “I’m doing this because I love you, my sweet boy.” Kurt didn’t know when that had happened, only the ghost of the words echoed in his ear as he slowly left the locker room, feeling tainted.
In the hallway, he spotted his phone, the word Courage making a mockery of Kurt. How could Kurt have courage? He would end up held in place, a body for those stronger than him to do what they wanted with. Kurt should have never let himself be angry, should have treated Karofsky like a force of nature that couldn’t change. Kurt wasn’t sixteen but six, frozen and silent as his Mommy kissed him in ways she had kissed Daddy, as she touched him in ways he didn’t have the words to explain why he didn’t like, in ways he had never liked but always tolerated because she claimed to be cleaning him, only it wasn’t bathtime and they were in Mommy’s bed and where was Daddy? Kurt was scared, Kurt wasn’t supposed to be scared, Kurt was exiting the school building and the fact that school was still going on didn’t matter when Kurt was remembering being kissed and touched and six years old. Kurt found his car, unlocked it, and sat in the backseat, where he could cry like the child he was remembering, the child who wasn’t allowed to have these humongous terrifying feelings but Karofsky had dragged them back to the surface.
Kurt needed help, and Blaine was more than willing to help Kurt confront Karofsky, only Karofsky ended up shoving Blaine the same way he had shoved Kurt. Nothing was resolved.
“Well, he’s not coming out any time soon. What’s going on? Why are you so upset?”
“Because until yesterday, I had never been kissed. Or at least, one that counted.” Kurt didn’t know if this kiss counted. He didn’t want it. He never wanted it. Blaine felt enough pity for Kurt to buy him lunch, and Kurt just thanked the universe Blaine hadn’t thought making up for Karofksy’s lips with his own would be a good idea because Kurt might just kill someone if anyone tried to get that close to him right now.
Life continued. Mercedes almost found herself suspended due to her tater tot addiction. Kurt had nightmares and tried to pretend he was unaffected, but memories kept returning. Spending time with Blaine was the only time Kurt’s mind stopped its rewinding towards childhood, so Kurt spent as much time with the Warbler as he possibly could.
“Question for you. You tell anyone else what happened? How you-you kissed me?”
“You kissed me, Karofsky, and I understand how hard this is for you to deal with, so no, I haven’t told anyone.”
“Good. You keep it that way. 'Cause if you do, I’m gonna kill you.”
Karofsky didn’t kill Kurt, but the exhaustion and lack of appetite following the threat felt like it might. Kurt didn’t even know how he ended up in the principal’s office.
“It’s the fear that’s the worst. I never know when it’s coming, I can’t concentrate, I don’t feel like I’m part of this school at all. I feel like I’m in a horror movie where this creature follows me around terrifying me, and there’s nothing that I can do about it? I mean, you…You don’t know what’s going on in this kid’s head. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”
“What does that mean?” Mr. Schuester asked, and Kurt was reminded of where and who exactly he was dealing with. Sue wouldn’t help him. Schue wouldn’t help him.
“Nothing. Maybe I’m overreacting.”
Kurt wasn’t overreacting. Kurt was planning a wedding, dealing with the fact he would have another mother now, step-mother, and while Kurt liked Carole he couldn’t help but keep his distance more and more after the memories of his mother started returning. What if she kissed him? No, Kurt ensured he was never alone with her except in public, so nothing could happen.
Karofsky ensured Kurt was continually terrified - he had begun occasionally groping Kurt during his goddamn body checks into the lockers. Kurt couldn’t tell anyone. Kurt couldn’t stay safe at McKinley, and his new family eventually opened even Burt’s eyes to Kurt’s struggle, and Kurt transferred to Dalton. At Dalton, Kurt would be safe. Alone, sure, but safe. Besides, he wouldn’t be completely alone - he had Blaine.
Blaine and Pavarotti. The little warbler was everything Kurt needed - cheerful, musical, and just good company, especially when waking Kurt from an unintentional nap. Escaping the school from his nightmares hadn’t made the nightmares cease, especially since Wes was suspicious of Kurt.
“Are we sure this Kurt guy isn’t pulling a St. James and scoping out the competition?”
“No, Wes, you haven’t seen the guy that threatened him. He could easily follow through on his threat - he’s like twice Kurt’s size. Kurt came here to escape homophobic harassment, that’s all. Remember, he thought we were going to beat him up for spying?”
“Right…” Still, Kurt was unnerved by the older Warbler watching him. Kurt was just easily frightened. When he went home there was Carole to face, when Kurt wasn’t being harassed by Rachel, until Finn broke up with her, that was.
“Kurt, sweetie, can we talk?” Carole asked one night after Friday Night Dinner. Kurt nodded, trying to stay calm, trying to not think about how his mom used to call him sweetie, nothing was going to happen.
“Let me just put the dishes away.” Kurt took his time clearing the dinner table, taking advantage of the fact Carole was waiting for him in the other room to calm himself because he was fine, Carole was a good woman who loved him a normal amount. Kurt was fine. Kurt was fine. Kurt sat himself in his dad’s armchair, as Burt was in his home office working on invoices for the shop. Carole was on the sofa, she was far enough away that Kurt could relax. Kurt didn’t want to be tense whenever he was in close proximity to her; he just was. “So what do you want to talk about?”
“I just wanted you to know that I don’t blame you at all for - for the honeymoon situation; your safety comes first. Burt and I made that decision together, so if you’ve been avoiding me because you think I’m mad, I’m not.”
“I’m not avoiding you.”
“Kurt, you almost exclusively responded to your dad’s questions about school. Now I know we’re new at the whole family thing, but I want to be a part of your life. I know that I can’t replace your mom, but I thought we had a pretty good relationship before the wedding, and I want that back.”
“I- I’m not avoiding you because of you specifically, I’m just going through some stuff right now.”
“If you want to talk, I’m here.” Kurt considered the offer - how his dad was probably listening to Mellencamp and wouldn’t hear them, how he had felt better after telling Tina, how much he had been hiding.
“Karofsky… the death threat wasn’t just about the bullying. He - he kissed me, and t-touched me” Kurt hated how tears sprang to his eyes just saying what Karofsky had done.
“Kurt? Kurt, honey, you’re safe now.” Carole stood to comfort the teenage boy - Finn always wanted a hug when he was crying, but Kurt stood before Carole could move closer.
“I’m done talking now, goodnight.” Kurt ran to the basement, curled up in his bed and sobbed. His mind imagined Carole hugging him like she had seemed to be getting up to do, imagined her kissing him, remembered his mom kissing him and touching him and he allowed it to happen because she had touched him hundreds of times in the bath before, she had made it seem normal, and Kurt was touching himself. Kurt couldn’t help it; the memories and fear and conflicted feelings because he should love his mom, he should love her and he didn’t. Kurt cried and when he was finished he texted Blaine, saying that he had told Carole and was scared.
Blaine wanted to know how it went, when Kurt returned to Dalton. Kurt didn’t have an answer. Carole agreed to not tell Burt until after his one year heart attack follow up appointment. “I just hate that I’m so weak that people do these horrible things to me and I just take it.”
“Kurt, you’re one of the strongest people I know.” Blaine stated.
“Then why am I still jumping at ghosts? I’m not at McKinley, I know nobody is going to touch me here, but I’m still just so scared.”
“That’s called trauma, and I went through it my first year at Dalton too. I was beaten up by a group of classmates at my eighth grade Sadie Hawkins dance for having the audacity to ask another boy. I was in a coma for two weeks. My lungs are still weak due to the pneumothorax I suffered from the attack. When I first got here, I couldn’t even take a handshake without flinching. You’re far better at faking normalcy than I was.”
“Oh my God, that’s awful. Your lungs aren’t weak, though, you can still belt out solos like it’s nobody’s business.”
“Yeah I’ve mostly recovered.”
Kurt continued to pretend he was fine and found the majority of the time that that was actually true. Most of the time Kurt was fine, until the Warblers decided they needed to sexify their dance moves for Regionals. Then Kurt was anything but fine.
“Um, Kurt, they're all sort of looking the same.”
“That's because the face I'm actually doing is uncomfortable. This is pointless, Blaine. I don't know how to be sexy because I don't know the first thing about sex.”
“Kurt, you're blushing.”
“I've tried watching those movies but I just get horribly depressed, and I think about how they were all kids once, and they all have mothers and what would their mothers think, and why would you get that tattoo there?” Why had Kurt brought up his mother when talking about sex? He didn’t want to talk about her, he didn’t want to think about it.
“Then maybe we should have a conversation about it. I'll tell you what I know.” Kurt shook his head.
“I don't- I don't want to know the graphic details. I like romance. That's why I like Broadway musicals because the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets.”
Blaine overstepped, and then a few days later Kurt’s dad came home with pamphlets from the free clinic, wanting to talk about sex. Kurt didn’t want to talk about sex. Kurt didn’t want to think about how much he didn’t want to talk about sex. Kurt didn’t want to be sitting across the table from his dad, thinking about how he was terrified of being blamed for having been sexually abused by his mom almost a decade prior.
“All right. You know, for most guys, sex is just, you know- It's this thing we always want to do. You know, it's fun, it feels great but we're not really thinking too much about, you know, how it makes us feel on the inside or, you know, how the other person feels about it.”
“Women are different?”
“Only because they get that it's about something more than just the physical. You know, when-when you're intimate with somebody in that way you're exposing yourself. You know, you're never going to be more vulnerable and that scares the hell out of a lot of guys. Believe me, I can't tell you how many buddies I've got who have gotten in way too deep with a girl who said she was cool with just hooking up.”
“But that's not gonna happen to me, Dad.”
“No. It's gonna be worse, okay? Because it's two guys. With two guys, you got two people who think that sex is just sex. It's gonna be easier to come by and once you start doing this stuff, you're not gonna want to stop.”
“I don’t want this stuff. I don’t want it to happen to me. I don’t want to be vulnerable. I don’t want to.”
“Kurt? I wasn’t trying to scare you off of sex forever. It can be a beautiful thing, maybe for your thirtieth birthday present to yourself.” Burt shouldn’t have said that because he reminded Kurt of what Kurt had shouted at Karofsky moments before Karofsky forcibly kissed him.
“Yeah. I don’t like chubby boys who sweat too much and are gonna be bald by the time they’re thirty.” Mouths were against his, hands holding his face in place, Kurt couldn’t breathe.
“Kurt? What’s going on in that head of yours, bud?” Kurt shook his head, trying to shake the flashbacks out of existence but he couldn’t help but remember his mom telling him that Daddy would be jealous of him because he didn’t think Mommy had enough love for the both of them. Had Kurt had sex? He couldn’t remember, he could remember words and touches but couldn’t remember having had sex. The silence between Burt and Kurt stretched out minutes, Burt staying quiet in case Kurt wanted to talk, Kurt simply focusing on breathing while his heart felt like it was escaping his body.
“I don’t want to, Daddy.” Kurt hadn’t called Burt Daddy since he was maybe ten. Burt was worried. Of all the people pressuring Kurt to have sex, Burt didn’t want to add anything there.
“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to, but you should know how it works in case that changes. How about you just look at the pamphlets?” Kurt did, just to have images other than the memories plaguing him to focus on. Some of what the pamphlets showed looked like something Kurt might want someday. Burt just watched his son as he calmed down, wondering what had prompted him to freak out that badly. Kurt had suffered from anxiety attacks as a young child, after Elizabeth had died. Had he still been having them recently, hiding them from Burt? “Kurt, y’know you can tell me anything. If you’re struggling with anxiety again, we can always go back to the doctor.”
“No. I’m fine. I just- I never told you the truth about the entire Karofsky deal. He - it was more than just bullying.”
“More than just- tell me he didn’t rape you.”
“He didn’t rape me, but he kissed me, and I didn’t want it. He held me there and I was only able to shove him off when he tried for a second kiss and then he threatened to kill me and I’m scared, Daddy.”
“Kurt- oh Kurt, c’mere.” Burt gestured and Kurt went to sit on his Daddy’s lap, feeling much younger than he was, intentionally keeping the majority of his weight off the older man so as to not hurt him. “You’re alright, there’s nothing to be scared of anymore.”
“Yes there is. You’ll hate me.”
“What?”
“I was scared you’d hate me for not being able to defend myself, stop him, be a man about this.” Kurt couldn’t tell Burt what his mom had done. Not when Burt was devastated over a kiss from a bully they both hated.
“Kurt, you are twice the man Dave Karofsky will ever be.”
“Thanks, Dad. I - I think I’m going to go upstairs and read the pamphlets. Kurt did just that, unable to stand being in the room with his father. His father who loved him, and would be devastated to know the wife he mourned for over a decade had molested Kurt. Kurt couldn’t ever tell his father. Kurt wouldn’t. He would simply bury the memories in the box of his mind where he kept other memories he couldn’t tell his dad about, like the pee balloons and dumpster tosses.