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slidingmoments2012-03-03 02:56 pm
justbeingaqueen.livejournal.com) wrote in slidingmoments2012-03-03 02:56 pm
Entry tags:
"No one knows what it's like, to be the bad man, to be the sad man, behind blue eyes."
Who: Just ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
justbeingaqueen
What: Sliding moments...
Where: Kurt, Mercedes and Quinn's apartment
When: Follows THIS
Rating: Graphicy details
It looked like a candy store projectile vomited all over his room. The candy and chocolate bar wrappers were strewn all over his bed and littered the floor, and were partying hard with the empty pizza box and packets of Doritos and a couple of mostly-melted tubs of Ben & Jerrys Phish Food. There was an up-ended box of Dots that had scattered in amongst the rest of the junk and had spilled dramtically when he climbed off the bed to calmly and collectively walk into his ensuite bathroom. Yes, being the only boy, he had claimed the ensuite and although both Quinn and Mercedes bitched him out for it, he told them he would get his own apartment if he didn't have the luxury of his own bathroom, and also threatened not to talk to them for a month if he didn't get his own way. It had been an extremely tenacious fight on all their parts, but it was just impossible to dominate Kurt's gay bitch when he unleashed it in full-force.
His room was a total mess, an extremely uncommon thing for him, but with Mercedes just having finished her turn with the grocery shopping with fully stocked cupboards and fridge coupled with Kurt's hoarded 'stash' in the closet of his room, the events of the day had ended on a slippery downward spiral that now had him knelt on the ensuite floor with a desperate grip on the toilet bowl and a spilled bottle of laxatives lying on the floor by his knees. It would all pass soon, though. He had complete and utter control of the situation, as far as he was concerned. If he just maintained this, the dislike for himself would be manageable and it wouldn't have to be the raging hate he usually felt. Rachel thought she hated him, but she had fucking nothing on how he felt about himself. She was right. Maybe he should just be a drag queen. It was about all he was good for.
But Kurt had never been more emotionally confused in his life, and that was fucking saying something. After the conversation with Blaine, and spending a little bit of time with him while Blaine emphasised his feelings, Kurt's heart felt like it was soaring. He was happy. He tried to hard not to let himself fall as hard as possible for Blaine, but how the hell could he keep denying it? He couldn't. Blaine was perfect. He was beautiful, he had a huge heart, and he wanted Kurt.
There was that extremely insecure part of Kurt that just didn't understand why, though. There was a part of him that was continuously waiting to be knocked into the gutter and stripped of his dignity and self-confidence again, and the conversation with Rachel and pushed all those stifled feelings to the forefront. Blaine was there, telling him he was beautiful, and Kurt had an inner-monologue continuously arguing with the words coming out of the poor guy's mouth. Leaving Blaine's after promising to chat to him later that night, Kurt had never felt less perfect and less terrified that at any turn, someone was going to tear Blaine away from him because he was horrible and didn't deserve the attentions of someone so sweet and caring.
Then the binging started. Fuck, if the world thought he was so atrocious and that all the was good for was to be the starring act on RuPaul's Drag Race, maybe he should just stop fucking trying? He could get fatter and no one would care. What did it matter what he looked like? So he ate. He ate beyond control until his stomach was agonisingly painful from being over-full and he couldn't take it anymore. The guilt set in. And the guilt was the worst. He was breathless, feeling the pounding of his heart throbbing in his ears and he knew what he just did was wrong. A hand rubbed over his sweaty face and scraped through his hair, fingers twisting in the damp strands as the tears began to drip down his cheeks. Maybe Blaine was just lying to him? That would make sense, right? He was saying all this stuff, but maybe it wasn't true?
But what if it was true? And now Kurt had shoved all this horrible stuff into his system and he was going to get fat, and lose Blaine anyway. How could he be so stupid?! He scooped up a small handful of the laxatives he spilled grabbing them out of the draw and stuffed them into his mouth, swallowing them dry around the horrible, sour taste spanning his mouth and throat. His throat was aching from how roughly he had forced his fingers down there, so he squeezed his eyes shut with a deep gulp until the pills were lodged in his throat anymore. He was already ugly and now he was going to get fat. Blaine would never want a fat and ugly boyfriend. He was going to lose him.
With a sob, Kurt pulled himself dizzily up off the floor of the bathroom and stumbled back into his bedroom. The mess was disgusting and the sight of it nearly caused him to vomiting the pills right back up again. He gagged, pressing his hand over his mouth and then stepped over it all to hurry up the hall of the apartment. He peeled out of his vest, scarf and shirt, getting down to just his tank top and trousers, bare foot, and slapped the treadmill on to full speed and just started running as hard as he could. If he exercised, it would make him thin again. He had to be better than a drag queen, he had to be gorgeous, or Blaine would never want him. He was already blowing up like Harry Potter's Aunt Marge by the second in his head. He just clamped his eyes shut, images of Blaine's beautiful face there behind them and he ran as hard as he could.
NARRATIVE, SCENE COMPLETE
justbeingaqueenWhat: Sliding moments...
Where: Kurt, Mercedes and Quinn's apartment
When: Follows THIS
Rating: Graphicy details
It looked like a candy store projectile vomited all over his room. The candy and chocolate bar wrappers were strewn all over his bed and littered the floor, and were partying hard with the empty pizza box and packets of Doritos and a couple of mostly-melted tubs of Ben & Jerrys Phish Food. There was an up-ended box of Dots that had scattered in amongst the rest of the junk and had spilled dramtically when he climbed off the bed to calmly and collectively walk into his ensuite bathroom. Yes, being the only boy, he had claimed the ensuite and although both Quinn and Mercedes bitched him out for it, he told them he would get his own apartment if he didn't have the luxury of his own bathroom, and also threatened not to talk to them for a month if he didn't get his own way. It had been an extremely tenacious fight on all their parts, but it was just impossible to dominate Kurt's gay bitch when he unleashed it in full-force.
His room was a total mess, an extremely uncommon thing for him, but with Mercedes just having finished her turn with the grocery shopping with fully stocked cupboards and fridge coupled with Kurt's hoarded 'stash' in the closet of his room, the events of the day had ended on a slippery downward spiral that now had him knelt on the ensuite floor with a desperate grip on the toilet bowl and a spilled bottle of laxatives lying on the floor by his knees. It would all pass soon, though. He had complete and utter control of the situation, as far as he was concerned. If he just maintained this, the dislike for himself would be manageable and it wouldn't have to be the raging hate he usually felt. Rachel thought she hated him, but she had fucking nothing on how he felt about himself. She was right. Maybe he should just be a drag queen. It was about all he was good for.
But Kurt had never been more emotionally confused in his life, and that was fucking saying something. After the conversation with Blaine, and spending a little bit of time with him while Blaine emphasised his feelings, Kurt's heart felt like it was soaring. He was happy. He tried to hard not to let himself fall as hard as possible for Blaine, but how the hell could he keep denying it? He couldn't. Blaine was perfect. He was beautiful, he had a huge heart, and he wanted Kurt.
There was that extremely insecure part of Kurt that just didn't understand why, though. There was a part of him that was continuously waiting to be knocked into the gutter and stripped of his dignity and self-confidence again, and the conversation with Rachel and pushed all those stifled feelings to the forefront. Blaine was there, telling him he was beautiful, and Kurt had an inner-monologue continuously arguing with the words coming out of the poor guy's mouth. Leaving Blaine's after promising to chat to him later that night, Kurt had never felt less perfect and less terrified that at any turn, someone was going to tear Blaine away from him because he was horrible and didn't deserve the attentions of someone so sweet and caring.
Then the binging started. Fuck, if the world thought he was so atrocious and that all the was good for was to be the starring act on RuPaul's Drag Race, maybe he should just stop fucking trying? He could get fatter and no one would care. What did it matter what he looked like? So he ate. He ate beyond control until his stomach was agonisingly painful from being over-full and he couldn't take it anymore. The guilt set in. And the guilt was the worst. He was breathless, feeling the pounding of his heart throbbing in his ears and he knew what he just did was wrong. A hand rubbed over his sweaty face and scraped through his hair, fingers twisting in the damp strands as the tears began to drip down his cheeks. Maybe Blaine was just lying to him? That would make sense, right? He was saying all this stuff, but maybe it wasn't true?
But what if it was true? And now Kurt had shoved all this horrible stuff into his system and he was going to get fat, and lose Blaine anyway. How could he be so stupid?! He scooped up a small handful of the laxatives he spilled grabbing them out of the draw and stuffed them into his mouth, swallowing them dry around the horrible, sour taste spanning his mouth and throat. His throat was aching from how roughly he had forced his fingers down there, so he squeezed his eyes shut with a deep gulp until the pills were lodged in his throat anymore. He was already ugly and now he was going to get fat. Blaine would never want a fat and ugly boyfriend. He was going to lose him.
With a sob, Kurt pulled himself dizzily up off the floor of the bathroom and stumbled back into his bedroom. The mess was disgusting and the sight of it nearly caused him to vomiting the pills right back up again. He gagged, pressing his hand over his mouth and then stepped over it all to hurry up the hall of the apartment. He peeled out of his vest, scarf and shirt, getting down to just his tank top and trousers, bare foot, and slapped the treadmill on to full speed and just started running as hard as he could. If he exercised, it would make him thin again. He had to be better than a drag queen, he had to be gorgeous, or Blaine would never want him. He was already blowing up like Harry Potter's Aunt Marge by the second in his head. He just clamped his eyes shut, images of Blaine's beautiful face there behind them and he ran as hard as he could.
NARRATIVE, SCENE COMPLETE