Alright. Spending Spring Break of their Senior Year on a road trip to get away from Westerville and Lima and see something new had a different meaning to Blaine than it did Sam. A road trip to Hershey Park. Maybe over to Chicago to play tourists? You know? That sort of road trip. With hotels that had running water and electricity. Sam, on the other hand? Sam suggested they do something he’d been wanting to do forever. Since they spent a weekend creeping themselves out binge watching youtube videos of guys sneaking into abandoned buildings or places they claimed to be haunted.
A map already pinpointed with places he wanted to go see, ones he researched for weeks was shoved into Blaine’s hand one day at lunch. Sam couldn’t stand still as he threw his sales pitch, weight shifting from side to side and his eyes lit up with a fire that Blaine never could resist being drawn towards. Sam’s excitement about anything was always infectious. By the end of his spiel–Blaine was expecting him to be bouncing off the walls and furniture if he didn’t calm down. Who could say no to that? No one. Especially not him. Within minutes of stuttered pleas and a drawn out ‘but rollercoasters’ that Sam just rolled his eyes at because nothing Blaine countered with could compare to ‘Ghost towns, Blaine. Ghost.TOWNS.’ Blaine tossed in the towel and agreed right as a list of supplies they needed was shoved in his hand and Sam zipped off, a human streak of lightning filled with adrenaline and anticipation.
Good luck to Ms. Peterson. Sam’s American History class was in for a treat.
Okay, that was the beginning. Now, let’s skip ahead to the present. Cause having a moment where he regretted ever saying yes to Sam in his life wasn’t something Blaine pictured until the words ‘girl slaughtered her family in the basement’ hit his ears. Dust billowed around his shoes as the former Warbler came to a sudden stop. His camera fell to hit against his chest as his hand pressed flat against a wall covered in yellowed, dirty wallpaper that once had to be cream with mauve colored roses. “Woah. Woah. Hold up. What did you just say?”
“That’s something you tell someone before they’re..you know? On the steps leading down to the basement in question, SAM.” A bloodbath happened down there? In the creepy, horror movie basement they could barely see into from the kitchen? “We’ve been to three different towns so far. I’ll admit, the school wasn’t the most awesome of places I’ve ever been in the ‘Wow. I really don’t want to die at the hands of a weird family of hillbillies that made this their town and have been following us this entire time.’ list. This, though? This tops the cake.” Not that he had anything else on this “list”. But that’s besides the point! Springing something that heavy right out of the blue? Not cool.
A half-hearted glare was shot up at him from the corner of Blaine’s eyes as he shook his head and clicked on his flashlight. “You owe me big time for this one.” Here comes the under the breath grumble aimed at Sam’s back, complete with smirking pout. “Ifwedon’tdie.”
Jeff had kept his eyes on Blaine. He’d watched the way the hot air came out in clouds from his mouth. He’d smiled, the air around them was cold, but the excitement seemed to be amped up to the max as the boys had shouted from twenty on down. He’d watched Blaine’s excitement grow on his face. Jeff had never enjoyed the holidays like this before, well he had spent it with the Warblers previously, but like this really genuinely watching someone live and enjoy themselves was more to Jeff than just another wish at the new years and celebrating with his homies.
Coming back from his thoughts he heard his roommate’s voice call down the time, his own voice seemed to follow suit joining the group’s countdown til zero his own body suddenly not cold, but warm and full of energy and excitement for the new year.
“four, three…” his words seemed to take forever to get out of his mouth and time seemed to slow for the moment that they spent up there on the roof of their dorm on that clear night.
Blaine was beyond less than prepared for what happened. In the last several seconds of shouted numbers nearly all the Warblers seemed to fold in on each other. Shoulder to shoulder and elbow to elbow as united voices yelled out the last second of the year in unison. Then, he could’ve sworn for two seconds, his feet left the ground as a pair of hands pulled him this way while an arm hooked around his waist tugged him in another direction. Wes’s arm slung over Jeff’s shoulders and with stumbles and skips to catch up, the boys redefined the meaning of New Years Eve Group Hug.
Puffs of grey white breath burst in the darkness of the group, Blaine had one arm around Jeff’s back and another wrapped around Trent’s shoulders as the sky lit up in the distance and the muffled noises of fireworks cut through the chilly Ohio night’s air.
“Happy New Year, Jeff.” In all the chaos of some darting off to see the show while others didn’t seem too ready to let the person they were holding onto go just yet, Blaine’s attention turned back to the tall blond beside him. Heels lifted off the ground and a kiss was pressed to his cheek and then Blaine was gone, pulled away by Trent to ‘Catch something he didn’t want to miss!’.
“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?”
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.
Gah! I understand. I have partners who intimidate me sometimes with how much they write. What’s important is to find people who don’t really care about post length. The ones that mean it will let you enjoy your time writing and are excited to write with you no matter what size of paragraphs either one of you reply with. Seriously! I don’t care if I write a ton and someone gives me a paragraph back as long as that paragraph has something in it that I can work with to move the plot forward. An entire post with one line of dialogue back doesn’t give you much at all but if you’re passionate about your character and we’re having fun? Writing isn’t a contest of how little or how much. It’s just about the experience of doing something I enjoy and meeting passionate, amazing people. Which if I’m following you? I think you’re one of those already.
(Rest Under Read More)
☾ – I don’t know how to approach you
This one is easy peasy. Just hop into my inbox, my messenger (if we’re mutuals), or ask for my discord (mutuals only as well) and send me something either A. IN ALL CAPS about something you love/read/saw/feel about anything. Or! B. Tag me but poke me so I see it. And lastly. C. Hitting me upside my head with something is painful but acceptable.
☄ – I’m super anxious about EVERYTHING
I getchu. There’s a ton in life to be anxious about. So I try to be a person who doesn’t create that for people. If you want someone to just chill and talk to? Or say hey if you want a distraction from something? Hit me up. But one step at a time can get you through a lot in life. Just, sometimes, it gets really hard to remember that.
Blaine had no idea who the blond boy was that yelled his name and nearly brought the performance to a halt before the stunned lead regained his composure and centered himself. Every time Sam met his eyes while he sang, it was with a familiarity that Blaine didn’t quite get. More than once, it made the Warbler blush. Olive skin dusted pink from self consciousness once Sam broke eye contact. And he always broke it first. Blaine’s color easily chalked up to how many times he’d managed to walk across the back of a couch only to end up standing on top of the piano. Seriously, his parents would kill him if they knew how bouncy he was.
Did the boy have any idea he even noticed him? Or did he dismiss it as Blaine simply acknowledging the other’s presence? But Blaine did notice. He might not have approached screamed his name like Sam did, but he noticed. That was Sam’s point wasn’t it? To get his attention? Blaine had never seen him before but Sam must have seen or heard of him to know his name. It was as flattering as it was confusing and Blaine couldn’t help but want to know more. Yes, he had people who loved his performances. Never one so in love that they made an outburst in the middle of one though. That was new.
A strange feeling came over him in the hours afterwards. It was the same feeling he got when he was at therapy. Or when Cooper showed him dozens of pictures of the two of them. Always looking half cut off or parts of them out of frame. Like what happens when someone rushes back before the timer goes off. But they looked happy. Cooper looked happier, though. Probably because he was only visiting. Blaine had trouble explaining to him that he wished he wouldn’t go. Because, in Blaine’s world, he’d made that argument only a handful of years ago. As promised, he came back four times now. The routine was nice. His brother lead him through every step the doctors said and Blaine swore he felt something come to mind but always lost it at the last second before he could grab onto it.
Exactly how he felt when he saw Sam without Sam realizing he’d made it to where he said they could meet. Sam was four people ahead of him in line at the cafe. He was on the phone and Blaine couldn’t hear what he was saying but it was how he was saying it that made Blaine’s head tilt. Sam looked soft, patient. Encouraging whoever was on the other end of the phone with soft tones and a gentle smile. Blaine knew that look but knew it was impossible. Because Sam was the new kid. The new new kid. So he found out in the rushed introduction after the signing came to a stop and poor Sam looked like he wanted to crawl in a hole somewhere as he approached him. It was his first day and he was picking up the torch Blaine left behind when he transferred earlier in the year.
Gotta love the way his brain works. Memories were thoughts sometimes. Thoughts were memories (maybe). Or was he making stuff up as he went along to fill in the blanks because the blanks were unnerving?
‘Well… Maybe we can’t fix it. But maybe we could try again?’
Hands shook underneath the table as he wrung them together harder and harder the longer he listened. His parents kept him under lock and key after the incident. He hadn’t met anyone who knew him before. No one came to visit. No one bothered to try to see him. Or so he was lead to believe. An option he hasn’t considered until now. Did his parents hide Sam? If so? Why? The question was on the tip of his tongue and he leaned in to ask it. But everything stopped when a weather worn strip of photographs came sliding carefully across the table. “We look so happy. How is that stupid? It’s not stupid.” Pain laced around the words of encouragement. How could he hurt for memories that were lost? Well. One look at Sam and you had the answer. Sam looked lost. Broken because of him. Because of what was lost and what was inside that picture was part of it. There was happiness there. Pure happiness and the two of them were brimming over with it.
Blaine brought one hand up while the other grabbed at the inside of his knee. Pink crescent shapes created by his fingernails lined the top and side. But, he reached out and touched the very edge of the photographs. His silent, reassuring smile and careful meeting of Sam’s gaze was a promise he’d never do anything to harm them. Pulling it across the table before placing his hand back underneath where it snatched the other up in a blink–Blaine studied their faces closely. “It looks like the best time of my life and then some. We look..,” like two people who cared so deeply for each other that Blaine understood why Sam looked so hurt even more. “You don’t have to walk away. We can try. I want to know you. I need to know you. Is that okay? A promise to try? I just..,” his nose scrunched and he tried to say it as gently as possible, “I don’t want to upset you if..if you really see how much I don’t..” Swinging his hand up, he wriggled his fingers by the side of his head and let them fall again. “You know?”
Laughter. Light and as happy as he was inside the Warblers Common Room. “Wolverine? You sure? I mean. Who gives up Wolverine?”
Blaine loved it when the theater was a bustle of activity. The chaos, the shouting. Everyone rushing towards their goal of getting one more thing done before opening night. He wasn’t sure he was going to say yes to Jesse’s proposal. Until he was brought here during one of those nights. And standing backstage watching it all unfold was too much of a temptation to quell a sudden ache inside his bones he hadn’t known could ever resurface to say no to. Yes, he adored watching the magic happen and being a part of it. But his favorite moments?
Happened in the quiet dark. When the orchestra level of empty seats faded into the shadows of the mezzanine and the upper floor, it created a small infinity inside their world. One that lured you towards dreaming. Back to dreaming for a dreamer that made himself wake up and face reality instead of drifting away on false hopes. Because where did that get you? Other than pretending?
Jesse always stayed, too. No matter how many times Blaine told him he could go home, the director refused. They could practice. Or he could work. Or they could end up sitting on the edge of the stage doing nothing but talking like they were now. Both of them pretending to be oblivious to the real reason why. Until a touch over a knee happened. Or a hand clasped a shoulder and pulled the other in a little too close. They were borderlining on dangerous territory for weeks now.
Blaine watched as Jesse’s fingers clamped down on his wrist to give it a shake, just to emphasize his point. He, also, felt his breath hitch when the edge of a thumb traced over the thin layer of skin above the blue lines of veins on the underside and didn’t stop. His gaze ran up Jesse’s arm as he lowered their hands to rest on the other’s upper thigh. Knuckles grazed over the top from fingers that twitched towards the heat of Jesse’s body. There was no mistaking when Jesse’s grip tightened and Blaine heard himself whine. Until their lips met, he hadn’t really thought it’d go that far. Though the way their mouths crashed together was anything but timid. To hell with it. A building hunger snapped his resolve and he fed it into the kiss as his free hand gripped the back of Jesse’s neck and held him desperately close.
pianokeysandbowties 