“They call every year on my birthday now which is a step. Surprised the hell out of me when they called me up out of the blue three years ago since I hadn’t heard from them in seventeen years. They’re working it out.” he’d meant to gloss over that part, didn’t want him to know his parents didn’t want anything to really do with him since he ‘officially’. That he’d lived with Carter, his older sibling, since he was fourteen. But it did get better, even if it took half his life to do it. “Sometimes life surprises you.”
“Oh?” he asked a little surprised. “Food sounds pretty good to me actually. Yeah. Maybe I can monitor those fingers of yours.”
“I’m glad things are working themselves out for all of you. Hang in there. I’m sure it’ll keep getting better if they’re willing to work towards understanding you.” Blaine could understand how even the smallest steps felt like mountains you’ve climbed to the top of every chance you got to feel like you made headway with your parents in getting them to accept you. Any hint of approval was something worth clinging onto. Because you never were sure when you might get another one. Or lose what groundwork you made. It was nice to see that Jason’s parents put forth an effort that stuck. Slowly, but surely, his mother was doing the same. Now that his father was tapering out of the picture several years after his parents divorced. Only a matter of time before that was bound to happen. If it gave him his mother the happier and more herself she became? That was his celebration. Take what you can get, remember?
“Even if they can’t understand. You’re still their son. It’s nice to see they’re remembering that. Come on. Dinner’s on me then,” he glanced down at his fingers and held in a groan. Tomorrow was going to be ugly. Might as well admit it to himself. Smiling up at Jason anyway, he grabbed his gym bag off the bench and slung it over his shoulder. “Any requests?”
“Is this an attempt to get me to look down so you can play the I got and/or flicked your nose game? Because.. I’m not falling for that.
….This time.”
// Holy CRAP! My theme is just agja;lgkjagkj! Thank you@avcntgarde for your crazy freaking awesome skills. Jesus. This is so beautiful I weep. Just wow.
( sms : blaine ) Even when we’re old and gray… 👴🏼🔥 ( sms : blaine ) Not long until your NYADA audition. 🙀 ( sms : blaine ) Possibly. ( sms : blaine ) Though the fact your mind immediately went there probably speaks volumes.
( mssg » kurt | sent ) Even when we’re old and gray.. ( mssg » kurt | sent ) I know. It’s crazy how fast it’s coming up. ( mssg » kurt | sent ) I think I got this, though. Or.. I hope I do? 😨
( mssg » kurt | sent ) ….You know? It was a phase! An awkward, let me be completely mortifyingly embarrassing as I can possibly be phase. ( mssg » kurt | sent ) Should I mention practicing sexy faces in your mirror to get even? Cause I will. Oops. Cause I did.
Blaine suddenly wished he stayed home instead of showing up for a sleepover complete with a round of Seven Minutes In Heaven and Spin The Bottle (how many make out games can a group of seniors come up with..? okay.. a lot.) with stolen liquor and way too much time on their hands to entertain themselves. What he wasn’t expecting was when things got quiet and half the party fell asleep? Someone would get the bright idea to mess with the freaking occult. A party game? More like.. I might not have spent many years with my Grandmother but it was WAY enough to know not to mess with ghosts game.
Blowing out a breath, he stared down at the board that was left out on the table like a game of Monopoly abandoned out of boredom. One hand curled into a fist propped against a hip while the other raked through his hair and cupped the back of his neck, rubbing back and forth. You could practically feel the I don’t want to be here radiating from the former Warbler while he tried to pass it off as nothing.
“I don’t know but we should probably put it away. It’s spooky sitting there like that.“ Wouldn’t you know? He gestured at the board and looked at Sam expectantly like he was waiting for something. By we..he more or less meant Sam should do the thing. Cause touching it? Nah. It didn’t take two people, after all. And! Oh look! Conveniently, he remembered he left their food upstairs! “I’ll go get us something to eat. Meet you in the kitchen?”
One final, nope look at the ‘game’ and Blaine Anderson was on his way out! A pivot on his heel and he spun around in the direction of the steps to abort this mission on the asap.
April had indeed spent the night in the choir room. Following a night of heavy drinking and light funds, she realized she had nowhere to sleep and somehow found herself wandering into the school and from there, into the choir room. Something kept bringing her back to this place.
She woke when she suddenly felt… warm? When did things get warm? It almost felt like she was being covered by something. As her mind gradually (and painfully) came into focus, she realized someone had put a wool coat over her. She sat up, a small groan emitting from her small frame from the soreness that came with sleeping curled up on a piano bench. She rolled her head on her neck, trying to get the crick out of it when she finally noticed someone was in here with her.
“Um… hi,” she said, removing the coat and immediately feeling colder when she did. “What time is it?”
If Blaine was here, the school had to be open. How she wasn’t caught and kicked out last night, she had no idea.
“A little before seven. I got here early to meet up with Kurt for coffee.” He smiled gently taking in the sight of her with a puzzlement as to why she was here. Figuring it out was pretty easy if you knew April Rhodes and her history. Which you knew within ten minutes of meeting the woman. Or the usual innuendo about needing alcohol would lead you to your own theories on what her deal was. It was a little sad to see. Also? A huge kick in the pants to keep yourself pushing forward. Or you could end up sleeping off a hangover on a bench in the choir room. How about no on that?
“Don’t worry.. No one’s going to be in here for at least another forty five minutes.”
“Are you going to be okay? Do you need anything? Coffee? A bagel? Donut? The cafeteria is open. Might not be the best but I can go get you something.” Kurt was bringing their food and drinks but April might need some food (or water if nothing else?) quicker than that.
It was funny how friendly smiles didn’t feel so friendly. Not like Sam hadn’t tried, mind you, but his wick was burning down and getting dangerously close to the point of no return. After all this time though, that really shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. After all, there was no happy ending for three, but for the other two; they at least had it set. He guessed. Why did he need to answer Blaine’s stupid question, wasn’t it obvious? Why else would he stand there twiddling his thumbs? It’s not like they ever had that much time anymore outside of school either. The more serious Kurt and Blaine got, the more they hung out; that was how relationships worked, especially in high school. So what good there had been was slowly drifting away within the winds of change.
Maybe that’d be his song for Mr. Schue’s assignment, not that it was really on his mind, but the hour had given him time to think. And that time sucked. More so because he was able to fill in the blanks and the lover’s fond farewell only furthered the bitter taste on his tongue. It should have been them. And then when he spoke it was just… Was Blaine even listening? Yeah, of course he was, he was right there but would he even bother to look at him?
Not until it was too late. “Are you though?!” Sam snapped, though it certainly wasn’t as harsh as it could have been, but it didn’t stop his arms from flailing out in an animated fashion, successfully ripping away Blaine’s grasp at his wrist. He stopped where he stood, half past Blaine and now awkwardly turned towards him. “Yeah, maybe you don’t, but I kinda do.” Whatever Blaine felt towards him, if anything anymore could easily be siphoned into Kurt for some weird sort of outlet, whereas Sam… It was just Blaine.
“It’s really messed up. The worst part is Kurt would have probably been over it by now and onto the new jock who’s actually full gay, full homo out in the open.” Blonde Jocks, kind of Kurt’s thing. He could speak from experience. “And then who knows where that would have actually put us.” Wherever or whatever it was would hurt a lot less than this. “What am I supposed to wait for? Or like, how long am I supposed to wait?” He’d been patient. He’d been quiet. “It’s like torture, I’m the stupid cliche that’s got the guy pining after his best friend, and you know what? I’ve seen this freaking movie. I know how it ends up, Blaine.” Sam’s frustration was building to the point where he was rambling, not really paying attention to how he sounded because the words flew quicker from his tongue than his brain processed them. “In like, three years when you and Kurt finally get married, I’m the one standing behind you, watching it all go down and it’s me that’s starting from square one. Yeah we didn’t think this through, but like, how long is this gonna go on for?” It wasn’t a him or me situation, but… His involvement had to stop at some point. “And then, is it just gonna be ‘just a bit longer’?”
And in general, did he really have a choice in the matter? He’d agreed to do it, and admitted it would be better for Kurt… But in hindsight, that was the kind of choice you should sleep on before doing something stupid.
“Like, do you just feel nothing for me anymore? ‘Cause if that’s the case, just tell me, because I’m sick of standin’ around, watching everyone get their happy endings,” As if high school love typically translated post graduation, but in Sam’s mind it was a simpler summary. “This is why you don’t freaking lie, because it turns into this huge goddamn mess and now what?” He should have known after last year and the Bieste Chronicles.
Blaine didn’t know what to say. This all felt so above his head and he was doing his best to try and reach for anything he could grab onto to tie this all together and hand over to Sam in a neatly bound package with all the answers inside. But he couldn’t. No matter how high he jumped, or far he reached. He couldn’t find the answers. When that’s what he always did before. People expected it of him. He expected it of himself. Not being able to find the conclusions that helped someone and their situation (which this one happened to be because of him, so it only made it worse) made his insides tense up and his brain feel like it was on the verge of screaming. It made him doubt how good of a friend he was if he couldn’t do the thing friends should do the most for someone and that’s help them.
His breath rattled as he swallowed around it trying to get as much oxygen into briefly frozen lungs as he could. Confused, almost fearful (at what though..?) eyes darted across Sam’s face like he might find his reply written in Sam’s eyes or forehead or anywhere that he was looking. Which was everywhere. His own words from last year to Kurt came back to haunt him. I don’t know what I’m doing. “I didn’t want you to walk away yet. That’s all.” Blaine’s grip held fast as he glanced down at his hand wrapped around Sam’s wrist. “I don’t want to lose you forever.”
Ouch. His teeth clenched together and he looked visibly stung at the idea he’d be just a passing phase for Kurt should some blond, out in the open jock come along. They meant more to each other than a phase. But he tried to take that punch the best he could. Sam deserved at least one good verbal throw at him. That one was a doozy. His face crumpled, brows lifted up and pushed together as a wave of doubt crashed in after he told himself that. Well. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe Kurt would have left him for someone he liked more. It would have torn him up but it’s not anything he hasn’t thought of a few times himself with the quietness that sometimes fell between his boyfriend and himself.
Maybe it would have left him free and open for Sam to come back from being gone and they could pretend Blaine, somehow, knew that it was going to happen one day and that he’d waited because of it. But that was neither here nor there because things didn’t go that way. And left without any more advice or words of wisdom or means of making Sam feel better? With all his defenses of helping stripped away?
Blaine caved.
Shifting, as it was his nature to, into a default mode of slouched shoulders and hoping that if he said what he thought Sam wanted to hear? That things might be okay eventually. That he’d finally punch the right button to stop them from falling apart and they’d get back on the mend sooner or later. If he could figure that out? Then, he could make this stop. Sam would forgive him for whatever he was doing and this whole mess would quit getting worse. “Of course I feel something for you. How couldn’t I?” He blinked and shook his head, cracking further. “Don’t wait for me, Sam. Don’t.” His touch slipped away and Blaine stepped back putting distance between him and someone he never thought he’d have to step away from. “Find someone who deserves you. Find someone who gives you what you deserve back. Get your happy ending.”
“I’ll tell Kurt the truth and..,” and Kurt would forgive him for lying eventually. They only did it because he knew how out of control Kurt felt about his life with graduation looming ahead, NYADA, building his application, his father, everything. One more thing on his plate wasn’t what he needed. Looking back? It was stupid. Why would he have even cared? “I’ll tell him and I’ll go home. Just. STOP. Please? I don’t want to lose you..not all the way. Again. So, can we please just stop before we can’t take something back?”
Blaine was stuck in South Side til Tuesday at the earliest thanks to the storm that blew in. Leave it to the Gallaghers to see a storm as an excuse to throw a house party complete with loud music, plenty of liquor and other things if that was your thing to enjoy. He saw so many people come and go throughout the night that the faces were starting to become a blur of known and strange. Combined with the thrum of the music blasting and the haze of smoke? He was grateful when Mickey showed up (was he annoyed?) and gave him someone familiar to talk to.
Now they were upstairs as the party raged on muffled by the closed door of the boys bedroom. Talking, laughing. Mickey was close enough that Blaine felt his pulse pick up at the sight of that smile. Mickey had no idea how beautiful he was when he laughed like that. Blaine considered himself at an age where he should be past the whole blame it on the alcohol phase. But what else could he blame when he, finally, got the courage brought on by a few shots of whiskey and a lot of cheap beer to lean in when Mickey cracked him up? Regardless of this being at the worst possible place for it to happen (they didn’t even lock the door), Blaine threw in the towel of so many nights pushing the want away. Of telling himself that this wasn’t going to happen. That they were way too different to work. When maybe different was what lured him here to begin with. Tired of fighting and too buzzed to care..
Long fingers curled around the edge of Mickey’s chin. Blaine laughed one more time but it barely made a sound above warm puffs of hair ghosting over Mickey’s lips right before he replaced the caress with his own. Eyes closing and fingers gently holding him close–he kissed him like it might be the only chance he might ever get. Gentle but firm and a plea for it to last.
pianokeysandbowties 