This was it. Blaine's first day back at school since coming out to his parents last week.

Last week. Had it really only been 6 days? It felt like it had been a lifetime. Between all of the mess at the hospital, and sleeping on Laurel's couch every night, and having lawyers and policemen and CPS workers coming in and out of her tiny apartment every 5 seconds, time just seemed all messed up now. There weren't set times for things like usual; he didn't have his regular three meals per day at morning, noon, and evening, he didn't wake up at a nice 8am or 9am, then go to bed at a reasonable 10pm or 11pm. Instead, he just stayed on the couch, alternating between sleep and just mindlessly watching the television screen as faces he didn't recognize played people that didn't exist. He wondered briefly how it felt to be an actor; to escape from your own reality and your own life, and slip into the skin of another person entirely. It must feel nice.

He woke up that morning to Laurel lightly nudging his shoulder at 7am.

"Blaine, come on, you gotta wake up. I know it's hard, but you're going to miss too much if you don't go back to school now. Just get up and get showered and dressed and we'll go from there, okay? One step at a time."

Blearily, Blaine nodded and rubbed at his eyes. He started to lift his arms up to stretch as he sat up, then winced, remembering that oh, yeah, my body is broken. "Fuck, that hurt."

Laurel flinched at the sound of her baby cousin using such strong language, but brushed it off. Blaine figured that she knew he'd been to hell and back and could use a little slack. "Sorry, I'll get your pain meds; I'll be right back."

Slowly, Blaine pushed himself to an upright position and awaited the arrival of his pain pills. He wasn't too excited about returning to school with 2 of his ribs on his right side broken and 6 on his left. Luckily for him, Dalton had a zero-tolerance policy, so it wasn't like he had to deal with anyone aggravating his injuries. It was just embarrassing. What would he say when people asked about what happened? Because, surely, if he could barely move his arms without wincing, they would notice at school when he was walking slowly to his classes, late everywhere, gently lowering himself into the desks instead of plopping down like teenage boys tend to do.

His cousin swept back into the room and gave him his medicine, which he gladly accepted and swallowed quickly, chasing it down with the proffered glass of water. He showered slowly, careful of his ribs, and wrapped the gauze and bandages back around him once out. It took some effort on his part, but he didn't want to ask Laurel to help him because he had to learn how to do this on his own. His parents were gone now. He'd have to just get used to doing things by his self.

Laurel's apartment was nice. It wasn't big by any means, in fact it was pretty tiny, but it was alright if one was intending to just live by themselves. Blaine kind of ruined that for his cousin, or rather, his parents did. But he decided not to dwell on that. Instead, he took the two steps from the bathroom to the living room archway and found his cousin and one of the many social workers who'd been coming in and out sitting on the couch facing away from him, discussing something in hushed tones.

"I just don't know what to do about him, Mrs. Trent. He's barely moved from the couch ever since it happened. I know that could be from the pain in his ribs, but I think it has more to do with his emotional state. He's so depressed, and I know it's within good reason, but that's my baby cousin. He's suffering, and I don't know what I can do to help."

"Right now, all you can do is be there for him. He needs to know that he's not alone right now." That was a lie, but Blaine didn't call her on it because he didn't want them to know he was there just yet. "Blaine is going through the toughest thing a kid his age can go through." I'm not a kid, damnit. "He's just lost his parents. And it's even worse than if they'd have died, because this was their choice. His own parents have abandoned him, and now he feels worthless; he feels like if his own parents can't even love him, who can?" Hearing his own thoughts voiced by someone else kind of felt like a knife going through his heart, and he had to shut his eyes tight and lean against the doorframe to keep from falling apart. "You just have to show him how untrue that is. Show him that no matter what, he will always have you to love him.

"This is not going to be easy, and if you're serious about becoming his legal guardian, we can take the steps to get there, but you just need to keep in mind that he's going to be very difficult to handle for a while. He'll have mood swings all over the place, lashing out at you one second and sobbing into your arms the next. You have to be prepared to handle that. I don't want to put him on any sort of anti-depressant because I don't want to mess with the medication he's already taking for the pain from his broken ribs, but he'll be a wild card for a while. Taking him in and becoming his sole guardian is a big responsibility and you have to be one-hundred percent sure you're ready for it; it's a big decision."

While listening to the social worker, Mrs. Trent, speak Blaine was preparing himself. He was steeling himself for when Laurel realized how much of a burden he was, and how much she didn't need him in her life. He was ready for her to just toss him aside and leave him to be someone else's problem, just like his parents had done.

What he wasn't prepared for was the fact that without hesitating in the slightest, Laurel immediately said, "Yes. I'm ready. Just give me the papers and I'll sign."

"Really?"

When the two heads on the couch turned to face him, Blaine realized that that wasn't the social worker's voice, that was his own. Well, it was too late now. He might as well keep going.

"You really want to do that for me, Laurel?"

At Laurel's softening eyes, Blaine almost cried. He could see it written all over her face, how much she cared for him and wanted to help him. He could also see how heartbroken she was, he guessed at how heartbroken he must look. He'd heard the police and CPS people throwing around ideas about where he could go, mentioning the foster care system since no one else in his family wanted any more to do with him than his own parents did. But hearing that Laurel was willing to take care of him made him want to fall apart and cry out of happiness and sadness at the same time.

"Of course I do, Blaine," she said, getting up from the couch and wrapping him in a hug. "I love you. Your parents are awful excuses for human beings. They don't deserve you; you're too good for them. And you don't deserve them; they're not good enough for you. You deserve someone who is going to love you and hold you and do everything in their power to make you happy, Blaine." She pulled him away and held him at arms' length, staring into his eyes. "If that's what you want."

Blaine had absolutely no words, so he just fell back into her arms, loving that despite his injuries, he felt completely comfortable and safe there.

Laurel was his new home.

…

October 27, 2008

Blaine hated Mondays. They were always shit, in his book. He knew Laurel hated it when he cussed, but it was true. Mondays were absolute shit. It was your awful wake-up call that weekends only last so long and then you have to go back to the real world. And you never had enough sleep, because you get used to staying up late and waking up late on weekends, that you stay up late Sunday night, but then have to turn around and wake up early for school.

Mondays were just shit.

So as Blaine was strolling lazily down the halls of Dalton Academy, heading to the last class of the day, he was already in a bad mood. Add to that fact that he had no friends, he was about to go to chemistry (his least favourite class), and everyone around him was already buzzing about their Halloween plans for this Friday, and Blaine was just about ready to punch someone in the face.

That's why Laurel signed me up for boxing, he thought to himself. His ribs were healing up nicely, and while the other guys were instructed to go easy on him, Laurel felt that it was important Blaine had somewhere he could go to let out everything he was feeling. Mrs. Trent, the social worker, was right; Blaine was having major anger issues, and then would turn around and find himself bawling in the shower for no apparent reason. It was all so strange to him, and he didn't quite know what to do with himself, hence the boxing. The doctor even OK-ed it, so it was legit.

Blaine was so wrapped up in himself, that he didn't even notice the boy who'd stopped in front of him to tie his shoes.

Really, the whole thing was Blaine's fault. He hadn't been watching where he was going. They were both on the floor groaning in pain because he hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings. But to be honest, he wasn't in a mood to take responsibility for his actions at the moment.

"Shit, if you need someone to teach you how to tie your shoes, why don't you just go home to mommy and get the fuck out of the middle of the hallway."

The boy stared at him open-mouthed in shock before straightening up and giving him his best go at a glare. It wasn't very terrifying, but Blaine was struck speechless none the less because, hello, this boy he'd just verbally abused was hot.

"Geez, sorry. What crawled up your butt and died?" the kid said. And honestly, that low voice had Blaine hooked already.

But right now, they were yelling at each other, so Blaine was going to focus on that.

"Why don't you stay out of my way and you won't have to find out, alright?" Blaine grunted, standing up and beginning to walk away.

He was sure that would be that when the kid called out to him, "The hallway is a public area, genius." Blaine stopped in his tracks, not exactly caring but kind of intrigued all the same. So, when the boy walked right back up to him and stood directly in front of him, staring down into Blaine's eyes, he decided this kid was definitely worth looking into. "I'll stand right here if I want to. What are you gonna do about it?"

The kid was testing him, that much he knew. And if he was going to suddenly get a rep for being a badass, which he knew was inevitable seeing how the boys at Dalton were worse gossipers than any girls he'd ever known, he figured he might as well make this a good story to spread. So, instead of doing anything violent like punching or kicking or slapping like the kid was probably expecting, Blaine decided to do something radically different than anything he would have done if he hadn't been so mentally unstable.

He kissed him.

It wasn't anything passionate or intense or strong; it was a small press of lips, just enough to get his point across and nothing more. He stepped back and smirked at the boy's awestruck face.

Deciding that he'd accomplished his mission, Blaine sidestepped the boy and headed on down the hallway to chemistry, which he was now late for—although, he wasn't complaining, that was less time he'd have to be in that awful class.

"Hey, wait a minute!" the kid called out.

Blaine felt a hand clap on his shoulder and, on instinct from sparring in boxing, he flipped his attacker over his shoulder and onto the ground, before realizing that duh, the person calling out to you would obviously be the person touching your shoulder. Blaine immediately felt remorseful as he saw the boy's horrified and pained face.

"What was that?" the boy gasped out from the floor.

Blaine held his hand out to help him up. "Sorry, boxing."

It was strange, how they had gone from hostile to sexual to apologetic and open all in the span of 5 minutes. They'd barely known each other and already their friendship was on an emotional roller coaster.

The boy eyed his hand warily before helping himself up, leaving Blaine to drop his hand. And really, Blaine couldn't blame him. He'd just flipped him over onto his back on the floor. That had to hurt. In fact, he knew it hurt, as someone had done that to him just one week prior. He wouldn't really trust the guy who did that to him either, if they hadn't been in a safe environment.

"You take boxing?"

Blaine shrugged. "Needed somewhere to put all my excess energy. And channel my rage."

"Anger issues? I don't usually go for guys with a temper problem, but I guess we can give it a go."

"I'm sorry?"

Surely, this kid was not insinuating what Blaine thought he was. The kiss was nothing, an intimidation method. It wasn't meant to actually mean something. Blaine didn't even think this kid was gay. And, at this point with his parents and everything, it wasn't exactly like Blaine was in the closet. But no one in school even knew his name. His parents had forced him to go here, and Laurel had hurried to figure out the best way for him to stay there, which was still being worked out. Regardless, he was a nothing; invisible. So, despite the fact that he was out in his life, he wasn't really out at school for the fact that no one really knew him at school.

"I'm Trevor Donahue," the boy, Trevor, said. He held out the hand that wasn't holding his back in pain. When Blaine didn't move to shake it, Trevor rolled his eyes. "Come on. You just verbally attacked me then kissed me then physically attacked me. The least you can do is shake my hand back and introduce yourself."

Blaine blinked but took the hand nonetheless. "Blaine Anderson."

Trevor smiled, and Blaine thought how nice he looked when he wasn't frowning or gawking. His smile lit up the deep brown in his eyes to a warmer shade of brown that went well with his orange-red hair. "Cool. So let's pretend like this right now is the first time we've come in contact and forget everything that happened before names. Because you're really cute and I'd like to take you on a date this Friday."

"But it's Halloween," Blaine said before he could stop himself.

Trevor rolled his eyes again. "I know that. That's why you're coming to my Halloween party. You're going to be my date."

"You just met me."

Trevor laughed and threw his arm around Blaine's shoulders, starting to walk them down the hallway in the opposite direction of Blaine's class. "You sure do like stating the obvious, don't you?"

"I'm a freshman. Nobody knows me here. I don't get invited to parties."

Trevor's eyes softened as he looked down at Blaine. "Now you do. And now that I have you on my arm, everyone will know you."

Blaine didn't really know what to say to that, so he just blurted, "My class is the other way."

"That's fine. You're late already anyway. Let's go get coffee. You like coffee, Blaine Anderson?"

Blaine shrugged under Trevor's arm. "Not really. I guess I haven't really had it that much, to be honest."

Trevor made this put out sound, like he couldn't believe Blaine had never had coffee, and moaned, like it was the best thing in the world and Blaine was obviously missing out. "You're going to love it. Let me order for you. I'll get you a medium drip. Trust me; it's heaven in a cup."

…

October 31, 2008

Tonight was the night. His big date with Trevor.

After Blaine's initial, and bizarre, meeting with Trevor, they'd gone out and had their coffee—Trevor was right about the medium drip (but then again, Blaine was beginning to find out, Trevor was right about everything)—and then Trevor took him home instead of Laurel having to pick him up. Laurel was extremely suspicious of this new boy that had suddenly taken an interest in her 14-year-old baby cousin, but said nothing. She did warn him, however, that she was watching him. Especially since she didn't get an age for the kid, but he looked older, and he drove, so he was obviously at least 16 years old. She told Blaine this, but he shrugged it off.

Couldn't she just be happy for him? He was finally making friends. After everything that had happened with his parents, he was moving on with his life. He hadn't had a panic attack at all this week, and that was huge. He was still skeptical of Trevor himself, of course, because he barely knew anything about the kid. But what he did know was that Trevor managed to seek him out in the mornings before school, and find him in between classes and walk him to all of his classes, and invite him to eat lunch with Trevor and his friends, and took him home after school instead of him having to wait for Laurel to pick him up—if she got the government teacher position she'd been gunning for there, she wouldn't be starting until the following semester. Trevor was treating him really well, and they weren't even an official couple yet. This was the happiest Blaine had been in a long time and he just really wanted Laurel to share that with him.

So, when Trevor swung by to pick him up an hour before the party was about to start, Laurel refrained from giving him too big of a speech. She just kissed him on the cheek and let him go to meet Trevor out at the car. As Trevor pulled out of the parking lot of their apartment complex, Laurel waved down at them from the window, and Blaine melted in a puddle of embarrassment.

He expressed this sentiment to Trevor, who laughed at him. "Don't be embarrassed. She's just looking out for you. It's sweet."

"It's mortifying," Blaine corrected. "She doesn't need to look out for me. Right?" He turned to look at Trevor, searching for confirmation, and getting it in a small smile from the driver.

"Right. I promise, you're going to have fun tonight, Blaine. You've already met a lot of my friends at lunch. Wes and David seem to have taken a liking to you. They're pretty cool. They're a year below me, but still good guys."

"What grade are you in, anyway? Laurel's been grilling me to find out."

Trevor got a gleam in his eye and winked at Blaine before saying, "I'm a junior, actually. I guess I just like younger guys."

Blaine felt his face heat up and looked away. Honestly, when he kissed Trevor in the hallway, he had no idea it would turn out like this. "I'm not that much younger. I turn 15 in December."

Trevor laughed out loud and patted Blaine's thigh, then let his hand stay there. "Oh, gosh. I really am robbing the cradle, aren't I? It's okay, you're cute, and I don't really care."

"Wait, how old are you?"

"I'm 17, but newly. I just had my birthday last month. September 23."

Blaine shuddered involuntarily. That date had taken on a horrible significance for him. Trevor seemed to notice the shift in his mood, or felt his shake, because he looked over worriedly. "What?"

"Nothing," Blaine mumbled. He'd rather just forget about it so he could focus on the first party of his high school career. He quickly changed the subject. "So, how many people are going to be there tonight?"

"Oh, just a few friends. It won't be like a big thing; don't worry." Trevor flashed a smile at him. "And I'll keep you by my side all night."

"I'm holding you to that," Blaine said, feeling bold.

Trevor had that effect on him.

…

The party was not "just a few friends," like Trevor had said. It was, in fact, "a big thing," like Trevor had denied. Blaine estimated there to be about 100 people spread all across Trevor's giant mansion. Yet another thing Trevor had neglected to tell Blaine; he lived in a freaking mansion, bigger even than the one his own parents owned. There was a giant pool and adjoining hot-tub out back with a big waterfall and palm trees everywhere, the whole works. It was too much, but Blaine tried not to show how small he felt.

This seemed like a test, to see how he would fit in not only with Trevor's friends, but in the social climate of Dalton Academy. Thus far, he hadn't met anyone, and now here he was, surrounded by a bunch of Daltonites. He needed to start being more open and making friends. It might help him forget about everything going on at home, at least according to the therapist Laurel had deemed necessary for him to go to.

The guys all had dumb costumes that were nowhere near original or cute, in Blaine opinion. Except for Trevor, who had bought matching costumes for him and Blaine; together, they made up the two opposing viewpoints that sit on your shoulders as your conscience. Trevor was the bad one, Blaine as the good one, of course. After their initial altercation in the hall, Blaine quickly fell back into his shy mode, and Trevor decided he was a total goody-two-shoes. Blaine decided that tonight was going to be the night he would break that image.

He started that mission by accepting the glass of punch Trevor was holding out to him.

"I'm sorry it got so big," Trevor said to him for the millionth time, having to raise his voice to be heard over the music. "I only told a few people. I guess word got out. You know how it goes."

"Yeah, of course. It's fine. Really."

People kept coming up to Trevor and whisking him away, and since he was the host he didn't want to be rude, which also meant that Trevor did not keep Blaine at his side, as promised. Blaine would have followed him, but he didn't want to look like the lost puppy dog that Trevor couldn't get away from, so instead he lingered by the food table, the epitome of a clich� party wallflower reject.

"What are you doing all by yourself?" A voice called to him. He glanced to his right to see that it had been David, dressed as a pirate.

"Where's Trevor?" He whipped his head around to see Wes on his left side, dressed as a parrot.

He wondered briefly if he'd ever see those two separated, then decided, no. Probably not. "Around. He's got a lot of friends. Lots of people to see. You know."

"Right," Wes said, looking at him strangely.

"Look," David started, laying a hand on his shoulder. "we know how Trevor can be. We've known him for a while. This party, it's a test for him to see if you're worth his time."

"Sad, but true," Wes interjected.

"And we like you. You seem nice. So we don't want you to get hurt."

"Hence us telling you this."

"So we're going to give you a bit of advice. Show him that you're who he wants to be with."

Blaine's brows furrowed. "I'm sorry?"

"We've seen him bring lots of guys in and out of here; he doesn't stick with one for long. But he really seems to actually like you."

"Which is a good sign for you, since you seem to really like him."

"So go mingle. Introduce yourself to new people and talk to his friends. Then, go dance."

"Dance?" Blaine squeaked.

All of this new information about Trevor was starting to make his head swim. He'd figured the boy was experienced, and he could tell that he was popular, but he didn't really think that he was a…womanizer…or…manizer…not quite the same ring to it, Blaine thought absently. He'd have to come up for a better name for it later.

"Yes," Wes affirmed. "Dance. Look for a guy you think is cute and doesn't have a girl draped all over him, and dance. That's how you tell the gay Daltonites from the straight ones. Straight Daltonites are so girl deprived that anytime there's a vagina in the vicinity, they'll attach themselves, hoping to get lucky."

Blaine gulped.

David, instead of Wes, continued. "The gay ones, like you, don't even notice there are girls around. And it's a costume party. Where all the girls are dressed like whores."

"Speaking of, now that we've told you the secret to winning Trevor's dick—I mean heart, we're going to go find scantily clad ladies to drape ourselves all over in hopes of getting lucky."

"Good idea, Wesley. See ya, Blaine!"

"Bye, Blaine!"

Blaine felt like he had whiplash from looking back and forth between the boys when they kept finishing the other's thoughts and talking to him at once, but now that he had this information, he knew what he needed to do. Wes and David were right, he couldn't just stand here all night. And if they were serious about this being Trevor's way of testing him, Blaine was a little pissed off, but determined. He was going to ace this damn test and prove himself worthy of affection.

And that is how Blaine found himself drunk and gyrating on the dance floor with one Michael InsertLastNameHere. Michael was a freshman who managed to get to this party because his older brother, Ian, was friends with Trevor. The second Blaine introduced himself, Michael looked so happy to find another clueless freshman he looked like he was about to piss himself. Inwardly, Blaine was just as excited, but he didn't want to seem desperate, so he toned it down. He leaned close in to Michael's ear and asked him to dance. Michael shivered beneath him and nodded wordlessly. Blaine counted that as an accomplishment and thought he might be better at this sexy thing than he'd originally thought.

The second he started dancing with Michael, he decided that he knew he was better at this sexy thing than he'd originally thought, because as he glanced over to where he knew Trevor was talking with who Michael informed him was Ian, Trevor was just staring at him, eyes raking up and down his body. Blaine maintained eye contact for a split second before spinning around in Michael's arms and grinding his back against the boy's front. He lifted his arms to bring his hands to the back of Michael's head and laid his head back on his new friend's shoulder, closing his eyes and just moving with the beat of the song.

He was glad that dancing with another boy so sexually wasn't a problem for anyone at the party. In fact, they weren't even the only two boys doing so. Blaine was suddenly grateful that his parents had inadvertently put him into a school that so encouraged him to be himself.

He barely had time to appreciate this fact before he felt different arms wrap around his waist from the front, bringing him into another body. He opened his eyes to see Trevor gazing down at him, pupils bigger than Blaine had ever seen them.

"Michael, right?" Trevor shouted over the music without taking his eyes off of Blaine.

Michael, who was now just standing there awkwardly, nodded. "Yeah."

"Thanks for coming to my party, bro. Think you could go find another dance partner? This one's mine."

Blaine didn't even hear Michael say anything, he just knew that the boy had walked away and left him alone with Trevor. He looked up at him, smiling. "I'm yours?"

Trevor leaned down and kissed him, pulling him flush against his body. This kiss was so very different from their kiss in the hallway. In fact, this was everything the last one wasn't. There was passion and heat and intensity and so much just feeling.

"Yes," Trevor said, pulling his lips away but keeping his face close. "You're mine."

"I think I could learn to like that."

"Oh, shut up," Trevor said, slapping Blaine's ass. He tried not to show how surprised he was at the action. "You're going to love it."

…

December 31, 2008

It was not only Blaine's two-month anniversary with his perfect boyfriend Trevor, but also New Year's Eve. Which was kind of perfect. To be honest, ever since Trevor, everything in Blaine's life had been perfect. He was happy again. Trevor was basically the sweetest boyfriend in the world, the best first boyfriend anyone could ask for, in Blaine's opinion.

Every morning, Trevor came and picked Blaine up at his apartment with a medium drip already waiting for him. When they got to school, Trevor and Blaine hung out by the fountain in the courtyard with a bunch of Trevor's friends. They all seemed to be in the same "club," always mentioning their "meetings" when they thought Blaine wasn't listening, but no one would say which club they were a part of, so Blaine brushed it off. Trevor walked Blaine to his first class, gave him a kiss at the door, and greeted him with a kiss after class was over to walk him to his next one and repeat the process. They ate lunch together by the same fountain, then spent whatever time they had left making out in the bathroom on the second floor that people hardly ever used. After school, they'd go to a park and make out, or go to Trevor's giant mansion and make out, or go to Blaine's apartment and make out, or park at the back of a parking lot and make out in the backseat of the car.

Basically, their relationship was a lot of making out, which Blaine was more than okay with. If he got to make out with his sexy as hell, 17 year old boyfriend every day for the rest of his life, you would not be hearing any complaints from him. Especially since he had just turned 15 on the 17th, which made Trevor feel less like a creep, or so he told Blaine.

Trevor was the perfect, attentive boyfriend. He surprised Blaine with flowers frequently, which made Blaine blush furiously and become all kinds of bashful. He took him on cute, creative dates, like the week before Thanksgiving when they went to the bookstore and left Post-Its with cute little notes inside the copies of their favourite books in preparation for Black Friday, when many of those books were likely to be bought. Or when they went all over Columbus to all of the security cameras and performed short, silent plays in front of them all. Or, like last week, when they rented a movie neither of them had seen, put it on mute, and improvised the dialogue. Or, like on Blaine's birthday, when Trevor took him to dinner to a town neither of them had been to and used fake names, pretending to be married.

His boyfriend was constantly finding ways to keep him on his toes, and as promised, Blaine loved it. For a first relationship, it was going pretty great, and Blaine didn't see that changing anytime soon.

Especially not as they held each other cuddled on the couch in Blaine's living room, watching the ball drop on Laurel's tiny TV. Laurel was out at a New Year's party with friends, so that left Blaine and Trevor the house to themselves. Under normal circumstances, Trevor would have been throwing a party of his own at his house, much like Halloween, but he decided not to this year. For Blaine. Because it was their two-month anniversary, and their first New Year's together.

Blaine just about melted when Trevor told him that his plan for them for New Year's was just to cuddle and spend the night alone together.

And right now, with his boyfriend kissing lazily up his neck, Blaine melted for a completely different reason.

"Trevor," Blaine reprimanded, "if you keep doing that we're going to miss the ball dropping."

"Forgive me, my mind is on a completely different ball right now. A pair of them, actually."

With a boyfriend like Trevor, who was most definitely not a virgin, Blaine had gotten used to these kinds of careless comments being thrown around. That didn't, however, make him blush any less scarlet or keep his stomache from going any less crazy.

Trevor smirked against Blaine's jawbone, knowing full well what that kind of statement did to him, and nipped at the skin there.

"Trevor. It's less than 5 minutes until midnight. I think you can manage to control your urges for that long, at least."

"Highly unlikely," Trevor retorted, pulling away. "But for you, I'll try."

"Aw, you really do care about me," Blaine said, smiling goofily at him.

These were the moments Blaine lived for. When it was just them together, none of Trevor's loud and overly masculine friends to distract them and turn Trevor into the borderline douche bag he turned into around everyone else. When they were alone, they could have cute banter like that, and Trevor turned into the biggest sap in the world.

"I love you."

Despite knowing how sentimental Trevor was when they were alone, that was the last thing Blaine expected his boyfriend to say.

"What?"

"I said 'I love you.'"

At a loss for words, Blaine just stared open-mouthed and wide-eyed at the gorgeous ginger next to him on the couch. In all honesty, Blaine hadn't even considered the possibility of love. He was just enjoying the way Trevor made him feel; he didn't want to try and think too much about it, because when that happened, he tended to overanalyze to the point of ruining it. But, when he thought about it, he supposed that he probably did love Trevor. He had fun with him, and Trevor was so good to him, and their relationship was going so well. Was two months too soon to exchange the big L word? Blaine didn't know, but if Trevor was going to say it, he was going to say it back.

"I love you, too."

The worry that was starting to creep its way onto Trevor's face and Blaine's temporary silence immediately vanished, and he crashed his lips against Blaine's pulling him close. This time, Blaine didn't reprimand him or pull away or try to stop him. He could hear the countdown on the television behind him, but the New Year didn't even matter now because Trevor loved him.

Blaine was loved.

Finally.

…

Needless to say, they didn't break apart until Laurel came home, sober and having dropped off a bunch of her friends as the designated driver. Trevor was ordered to sleep on the couch, and consequences were threatened if she woke up to find Trevor in Blaine's bed in the morning.

It was around 2:30am when Blaine felt his boyfriend climb into bed behind him, throwing an arm around his waist and pulling Blaine's back flush against his front.

"Laurel's gonna kill you," Blaine warned.

"Let her. If I die lying in bed with you I'll be a happy guy."

Blaine smiled into the dark and didn't answer that. Instead, he said, "I love you," simply because he could now.

He felt Trevor's lips press softly against the top vertebrae of his spine. "I love you, too."

They were silent after that, and Blaine was just drifting off to sleep when Trevor spoke again. "Do you trust me?"

Blaine didn't even hesitate before sleepily mumbling, "Of course."

"I want you to come somewhere with me next week. It's somewhere I've never taken you before, and it's a secret. You can't tell anyone. Okay?"

Blaine was so close to sleep that he probably would have agreed to start a drug and prostitution ring if that's what Trevor wanted. "Okay."

"Cool," Trevor sighed, snuggling closer. "Goodnight, Blaine."

"Mmmh. 'Night, Trevy."

He fell asleep to the wonderful sound of Trevor's soft laughter and the feeling of his arms around him. For once in his life, Blaine felt completely safe and warm and content.

He should have known it would only last so long.