Part three

Tuesday was the last day of school before the holidays and when his last lesson of the day ended, Blaine approached his locker to collect what he would need over the holidays. Before he could open it, however, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to find a text from Sebastian.

Merry xmas. I for one know what I want this year. There's even a whole song about it. ;)

Blaine rolled his eyes. He had hoped that Sebastian would ease up on the flirting in time when Blaine didn't reciprocate, but it had been six weeks now and Sebastian still texted him almost daily. It was starting to look like Blaine might have to have a serious talk with him after all. Blaine sighed. Confrontation was not one of his strongest suits. He didn't have to do it now though, he told himself – Christmas did seem like entirely the wrong time – so Blaine pushed the thought out of his head for now and sent off a polite reply to Sebastian's text.

As he put his phone away and opened his locker, gathering his things, Blaine's mind drifted to another conversation he dreaded. Well, dreaded was maybe not the right word, but he couldn't deny being a little nervous about it. Big gestures were so much easier to deliver in song. When he was on a stage, he felt confident and in control, the world his for the taking. Blaine doubted that he could be as impressive when it was just him and his words. He reached into his bag and pulled out the small red box, careful not to tear off the golden bow decoration on top. Well, and that, he supposed – him, his words and a silly homemade ring.

'What's with the box?' Rachel's voice came from behind Blaine who wheeled around quickly, relieved to find that Kurt wasn't with her. Rachel raised an eyebrow. 'Jumpy today, are we?'

'Sorry, I was just... checking.' Blaine looked up and down the hallway again, making sure that Kurt wasn't approaching before telling Rachel in a low voice, 'He thinks he already got his present. It's supposed to be a surprise. For Kurt, I mean,' he added stupidly. As though that wasn't obvious.

'I'd guessed,' Rachel said with an indulgent sort of smile, the kind that Blaine was usually the one to send her. 'So what is it?' She pulled at his wrist and took a step forward, inspecting the box more closely. A second later she let out a soft gasp, and she looked up at Blaine, her eyes wide. 'No, wait... Is that- Is that a ring box? Blaine, oh my god.'

'Rachel, relax,' Blaine said, shushing his friend. 'It's not like I'm proposing. It's not even a real ring.' Rachel's brow furrowed in confusion at these words. Blaine shrugged. 'I couldn't afford it.'

While Rachel took a moment to gather herself, Blaine smiled at her never-ending enthusiasm, even if he did sometimes find it a little overwhelming. 'Okay, so... if you're not proposing, then what? What's the occasion?'

'He is. Kurt being Kurt. So I'm... promising. I don't know, it's silly,' Blaine said, losing his confidence a little and making to put away the box, but Rachel stopped him and pried it from his hand. 'He's probably going to laugh at me.'

'He is not. Kurt's a romantic and you know that,' Rachel scolded before opening the box, and from the way her expression softened, the ring might as well have been a real, live puppy. 'Blaine. You made this?'

Blaine felt his cheeks grow hot. 'Yeah.'

Rachel kept staring at the ring for a long moment, a strange unreadable expression on her face. 'I'm an awful person,' she said finally, and she seemed to be speaking to herself more than Blaine.

'What?'

Rachel looked up at Blaine as though she had half forgotten that he was there. She forced a smile as she closed the box and gave it back to him. 'He's gonna love it. And I'm sorry, but I really have to go find Finn now.'

'O-kay,' Blaine said, watching perplexed as she turned to leave only to turn around again and pull Blaine into a brief one-armed hug, before hurrying off down the hall. As Blaine watched her go, he saw her passing Kurt heading in the other direction, and when Kurt turned to stare after her, Blaine hastily stuffed the box into his pocket.

'What's up with Rachel?' Kurt asked when he reached Blaine's side. 'Is she still upset about the pig?'

'I have no idea,' Blaine replied truthfully, giving a small laugh as he closed his locker. He considered Kurt for a moment before grabbing him by the wrist and beginning to lead him away. 'Come here for a second.'

'What's wrong?' Kurt said, looking immediately worried, when they had found a relatively quiet corner of the hallway.

'Nothing,' Blaine said, holding his hands up in calming gesture. 'On the contrary. I... wanted to give you something. Since it's Christmas.'

'But you've already given me my present,' Kurt reminded him. 'And I loved it. I told you, I don't care about-'

'I know. But it's not that kind of present. I wanted to say something. The thing is...' Blaine paused for a moment as he slid his hand into his pocket, running his fingers over the surface of the box. 'The thing is we've kind of been all about me lately, and I felt like you deserved something a bit more personal than a scarf, just to-'

'I told you, I love it-'

'Please just let me finish?' Blaine pressed, careful to keep his voice soft, and Kurt nodded. 'What I wanted to say is, well, thank you. For sticking by me. For your patience and understanding. I know I'm a lot to deal with sometimes.'

'Blaine...'

Blaine smiled. 'It's okay. You know it's true. But that's not the point, anyway. The point is that it goes both ways. The point is that I love you, and the way you've made me feel – I'm gonna work as hard as I can to make you feel that way too. Which is why...'

Blaine removed his hand from his pocket, taking the box with him and holding it out to Kurt whose eyes widened and mouth dropped open as he accepted it.

'While this is not an engagement ring,' Blaine clarified as Kurt opened the box and his eyes fell on the ring inside. 'consider it a promise ring. I made it out of gum-wrappers. Juicy fruit.'

'Wrigley's. My favorite.' Kurt sighed, clearly touched, and Blaine felt his nerves calm a little. Kurt really wasn't laughing. 'Is that a bow tie?' Blaine nodded happily. That detail had not been easy. 'But what are you promising?'

'To always love you. To defend you even if I know you're wrong. To surprise you.' Blaine's lips quirked – he had certainly managed that, hadn't he? 'To always pick up your phone call no matter what I'm doing. To bake you cookies at least twice a year.' At these words Blaine's throat constricted a little and his voice nearly broke as he recalled their baking session three weeks ago. 'And to kiss you, wherever and whenever you want. But mostly just to make sure that you remember how perfectly imperfect you are.' Blaine smiled, swallowing down the lump in his throat. 'I know it's nothing like what you got me, but-'

'I love it,' Kurt declared and threw his arms around Blaine's neck, hugging him tight. 'Merry Christmas. It's our first Christmas together.'

'The first of many,' Blaine replied with a soft smile as they pulled apart, noting to himself that a mere month ago he wouldn't have dared to think something like that, let alone say it out loud.

They exited to the parking lot together and as they stood between their respective cars (parked next to each other naturally), Kurt glanced around quickly. The only other people in sight were a group of freshman girls talking and giggling fifty feet away and one jock hanging out by the school entrance. Kurt looked back at Blaine, a playful smile on his lips, and he tugged on Blaine's jacket, bringing them closer.

'You know that promise about kissing me whenever and wherever? I'm cashing in.'

Blaine glanced quickly over at the jock but then back at Kurt. The jock was alone and far away, and what was he going to do, anyway? 'Are you now? Well, I guess I have no choice then,' Blaine said in a low voice as he leaned in for a quick peck. Despite its chasteness, it felt like an important victory.

They parted to their separate cars, and Blaine made the trip home in an unusually good mood, humming along to the Christmas music on the radio. When he entered the house and his father appeared from the kitchen to ask if he was ready to get started on the tree, Blaine even had a genuine smile for him, the likes of which he hadn't sent him since before Thanksgiving. 'Sure. I'm just gonna go drop my stuff upstairs.'

When Blaine joined entered the kitchen two minutes later, his father was in the middle of peeling potatoes, and despite their difficult relationship, Blaine couldn't help but be grateful that his father was home again for a while. Without him it was not often that Blaine got a (decent) home-cooked meal.

'A letter came for you, by the way,' his father said over his shoulder. 'It's on the table.'

Blaine frowned as he picked up the letter from the kitchen table. Who would be writing to him? But there it was, addressed in neat cursive letters to Blaine Anderson. He opened it to find a clearly home-made card bearing the words "MERRY CHRISTMAS" and a drawing of a Christmas tree with plenty of presents under it. As he read the note inside, a smile spread slowly across his face.

'So who's it from?' his father inquired curiously, appearing behind Blaine.

'Paige and Jessica,' Blaine replied, still smiling. 'You know, cousin Lucy's kids? Listen to this: P.S. Sorry about our family. Grownups are dumb.'

'They're great kids,' Blaine's father agreed.

'Yeah, I just hope they stay that way,' Blaine said quietly as he put the card back in the envelope and made a mental note to write back to the girls and thank them. 'But with this family...' He trailed off as his father shifted uncomfortably behind him, and Blaine turned to face him. 'Have you talked to them at all? About... me?'

'Well, no,' his father admitted. 'I will, of course. But Christmas just seems like the wrong time for it, doesn't it?'

Blaine huffed out a breath of disbelief before shooting back at his father, the anger in his voice surprising even himself, 'Just admit it, you're never going to.'

'Blaine, I-'

Blaine closed his eyes for a moment, focusing all his energy on not getting angry and upset. His day had been going so well. And it was Christmas. Right now really wasn'tthe time for heated confrontations.

'Never mind. I'm sorry. Let's just go get the tree before it gets dark,' Blaine said tersely, and without checking to see if his father was following him, he stalked out of the kitchen and into the backyard.

His father did follow him, however, and soon they were working quietly together on digging up the tree that stood planted in their backyard. The year before Blaine's father had had the idea to plant the tree rather than throw it out when they were done with it, and see if it would stay alive during the year. And if it did, he had joked, they would finally be able to "get their own tree".

They managed to retrieve the tree without too much difficulty, and once it stood safely in the living room, they set to work decorating it.

'How come we never seem to do this anymore?' Blaine's father asked after a while.

Blaine shrugged, keeping his attention on the tree. 'Well, it's only Christmas once a year, so...'

'No, I mean this. The two of us doing something together that isn't simply driving you to Columbus.'

Blaine kept silent as he turned to pick up another couple of baubles, deliberately not looking at his father as he did so. He couldn't think up a lie on the spot, and when the only honest reply he could come up with was Well, actually I don't really want to spend time with you anymore, honesty didn't seem like the way to go either.

'You're all moody today,' his father said, clearly going for light-hearted teasing as he poked Blaine in the side, but Blaine just found it annoying. 'Everything all right? This isn't like you.'

'Yeah, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?' Blaine muttered under his breath, knowing he was being rude but so tired of his father always telling what to do and how to act.

'Blaine. Tone,' his father reminded him gently. 'If you have something to say you can be mature about it.'

Blaine glared over his shoulder at his father who was sorting out a piece of tinsel. 'Yeah, well. Maybe I'm sick of being mature.'

'Okay, what is your problem?' his father asked, patience clearly wearing thin as he tossed aside the tinsel.

'You!' Blaine all but yelled as he turned around to face his father finally. 'You're my problem. You don't know me.'

'Hey, at least I'm trying!' his father tossed back. 'Meanwhile all you seem to do is push me away.'

Blaine blew out an exasperated puff of air. 'If I push you away it's because you're looking for someone who isn't there.' He turned away again, adding quietly, 'Like I said, you don't know me, and you haven't for a long time.' Blaine was already regretting bringing the issue up at all. This was never a conversation he wanted to have.

They worked in silence again for a while, and Blaine – feeling both grateful and disappointed at the thought – assumed that his father had chosen to let the issue lie, but when he spoke again it was in a careful, almost sad, voice.

'We kind of drifted apart after you went away to Dalton, huh?'

Blaine hummed. 'I guess.'

'I know I work a lot. I'm sorry. It was never my plan,' his father said quietly, and Blaine could feel his eyes on him from the other side of the tree.

'It's fine.'

'I feel like we don't spend nearly enough time together anymore,' Blaine's father went on, and why couldn't he just drop it? 'I miss the way we used to be before you went to Dalton.'

'Dad. It's fine,' Blaine said tensely. 'I know you have to work.'

'What if I didn't? Or at least not as much?' Blaine didn't respond. The problem wasn't that that Blaine and his father didn't spend enough time together – it was that they didn't know how to. 'Remember Jeffrey Ford? My boss? Well, he's retiring, which means his position is opening up. I was thinking of applying for it, and with my seniority I'd probably get it. It'd mean more of the boring paper work stuff and a long commute, but... I'd get to to come home every night.'

Blaine looked up despite himself. He knew that while his father might regret not being home more, a large part of him also liked the constant traveling. 'You'd do that?'

'Does that surprise you?'

'I-' Blaine began but he caught himself. He averted his eyes but didn't turn away as he spoke in a quiet voice. 'It doesn't matter. You don't wanna spend time with me.'

'What makes you say that?' His father sounded genuinely puzzled.

Blaine folded his arms across his chest, focusing on the tree branches that separated them as he replied. 'You'll only end up disappointed again.'

'Disappointed?' His father stepped out from behind the tree and walked around to look at Blaine properly. 'Again?'

Blaine swallowed. 'I couldn't be the daughter you wanted, and I obviously can't be the son you want either. So I've stopped trying.' Blaine shrugged before raising his head to meet his father's eyes. 'There's a reason we stopped doing things together, and it wasn't just Dalton.'

'Blaine... what?' His father looked suddenly pale and shaken. And Blaine was annoyed, because really?

'Your little bonding sessions a few years ago? The sports, the fishing, the car stuff. How you never have anything positive to say about the things I do unless it's, likeboxing or, I don't know, watching football.' Blaine paused to glare at his father, finding that his breathing was heavy and his heart hammered almost painfully in his chest. 'None of this is familiar to you?'

'Bond- That wasn't- I was trying to let you know that it was okay liking those things. I was trying to show support.' Blaine's father sighed and sank down on the coffee table. 'I thought maybe you were still kind of hiding yourself.'

'Why?' Blaine said, beyond caring how harsh he sounded. 'Because I didn't turn into Cooper 2.0? I'm not like him. And I don't want to do that stuff with you.'

'That's okay. No one's asking you to be like Cooper.' His father smiled carefully. 'We already have one of those.'

For a long moment Blaine just stood there with a piece of decoration – he had forgotten what exactly – clutched in his hand, hanging limply at his side. Now that his father wasn't actually shouting at him to go learn how to be a man, Blaine didn't really know how to respond. 'Well, it kind of seemed that way,' he mumbled awkwardly.

'Is- is that why you stopped talking to me?'

'I felt like you're the one who stopped talking to me,' Blaine admitted as he sat down next to his father, who had his head in his hands, seemingly lost for words. 'So you don't think I'm...' Blaine swallowed painfully. 'a disappointment?'

'Disa-' His father whipped his head around to look at Blaine, his eyes big and sad. 'Blaine, you're my kid. I'll always be proud of you, no matter what.' He squeezed Blaine's shoulder and attempted an encouraging smile, but when he let go, he seemed to deflate a little, and Blaine could tell that something more was on his mind.

'But you wish I was straight,' Blaine guessed after a while.

'Yes,' came the immediate answer, but then his father seemed to realize what he had said. 'No! No. I don't know. You just gotta understand that it's a lot to wrap my head around. That you were born female.' Blaine winced involuntarily at the word. 'But you say you're a boy. I can understand that. Well, not really, but, you know, I sort of get it. But then you still want to kiss boys and sing show tunes and – I don't know – readVogue and dress like, well, like that.' He gestured at Blaine's outfit. 'It's all sort of girly, isn't it?'

'Vests and bow ties are girly now?' Blaine meant to answer with an edge of sarcasm but it came out more sad than anything. 'I must have missed the memo.'

'Well, you know what I mean.'

'You mean effeminate,' Blaine said. 'Gay.'

'I guess. Yes. Don't get me wrong, I've nothing against gay people. I'm not my family. You know I'm not.' It seemed important to him that Blaine agree with this. 'My only point is that aside, I guess, from the boxing, your current interests wouldn't have been that unusual for a girl. You could have just stayed that way and avoided a lot of bad things.'

Blaine stared at his father as the words sank in, and he took a moment to consider just how wrong he had been about his father, but how close he had been to the truth at the same time.

'They're not related though, gender and sexuality,' Blaine said finally. 'Or even gender and gender expression.' He paused for a few seconds, wondering how best to explain himself. 'Dad, you've met Kurt.'

'Yes...' Blaine's father was clearly not seeing the relevance.

'And can we agree that in many ways he's more effeminate than I am?' His father gave a half-shrug in agreement. 'But you're not calling him a girl.'

'I'm not calling you a girl, Blaine,' his father said defensively.

'You kind of are though,' Blaine pointed out quietly.

'I'm just trying to understand here,' his father said, and Blaine stood up, a little annoyed. He was tempted to retort that he had been out for nearly four years, so his father was rather late to the game, but Blaine resisted, realizing that since he himself hadn't exactly been in a rush to talk about things either, it might be a little hypocritical. Instead he stood in the middle of the room, looking at his father and considering his words for several moments.

'You're right,' he said finally. 'I could have avoided a lot of taunts and bullies and bruises. I could have avoided countless doctor visits and needles and therapy and stress about people finding out. But all of that is nothing – nothing – compared to the alternative.' Blaine paused. The next part he hadn't told anyone save for his therapist, and he hadn't planned on that ever changing. 'Dad... If I hadn't come out when I did and been allowed to start transitioning... If I had had to go on like I was... I'm- I'm not sure I would be here right now.'

Blaine forced himself to keep eye contact with his father as he watched his words sink in and take effect. He could practically see his father's heart break, and Blaine hated that he had felt the need to tell him. Hated the way his father looked at him next. But it was needed, because apparently his father hadn't actually understood him all these years.

'I wasn't- I wasn't "there",' Blaine said, feeling his eyes burn, and he had to look away as his father stood and moved closer to him. 'But the thought did cross my mind. Once or twice.'

'Oh, Blaine...' His father's voice broke as he said his name, and Blaine felt his father's warm hand on his shoulder shaking a little. 'Are you saying- It was that bad?'

'I'm saying it might have been. If things hadn't changed.'

'I- I didn't know.' The expression on his father's face was pained. 'God, I didn't know.' The next thing Blaine knew, he was pulled into a tight, warm hug, and god, he couldn't remember the last time his father hugged him like that. 'I'm so sorry.'

When they parted Blaine wiped his nose on his sleeve and sat down in a nearby armchair, gathering himself a little. 'I guess I could have explained things better,' he said. 'Back then. I just always thought it was obvious, you know? That who I am, who I like, and what I do – they're three separate things. That saying I'm a boy isn't about being allowed a certain set of hobbies. That when I say I want top surgery, it isn't somehow about fitting in with the guys at school. I'm never going to, not really. And that's fine.' Blaine held his hand to his chest as he continued. 'I want these gone because they're not part of me. Because every time I see them in the mirror I get this sinking feeling in my stomach, like... "oh, right – God made you wrong."'

'Hey, come now. Don't,' his father scolded softly as he crouched on the floor in front of Blaine. 'You are not wrong. Call it a...' He looked around the room, evidently searching for a word. 'A birth defect.'

Blaine couldn't help but laugh a little. 'Isn't it the same thing?'

'No. It's not,' his father insisted. 'Just- Please stop using that word about yourself. All right?'

Blaine nodded as he fell back into the chair. He felt drained from this entire conversation – but in a good way, he supposed. 'I can't believe I spent all this time thinking you resented me.'

'And all this time I thought our only problem was my being away from home all the time,' his father said, shaking his head.

Blaine offered a wry smile. 'Guess we're both really bad at communicating, aren't we?'

'That's the Anderson men for you,' his father said with a wink and a chuckle as he stood up and turned his attention back to the half-finished tree – and Blaine saw what his father did there. He felt kind of like singing from the rooftops, but instead he settled for fishing out his phone and typing a quick message to Kurt.

Dad and I finally talked. You were right. He's mostly just a bit clueless xD I love you. Call you later.

'Come on, let's finish with this,' his father said from across the room. 'You can text later.'

'Coming! Just...' Blaine called back, his eyes still on his phone as he got the notice that Kurt had read his message. The reply came in a moment later.

Of course I'm right. :) Really though, I'm glad. Can't wait to hear about it. Love you too. xo

'Bla-aine...' His father's voice drifted across the room again as Blaine finished reading Kurt's text. There was a note of impatience in his father's voice, but Blaine could tell it was more fond than annoyed. 'I want to get this done, so we can get started on dinner soon.'

'You're gonna cook?' Blaine asked, faking surprise as he skipped over to the tree, grabbing a golden bauble from the box on the coffee table as he went. 'Really? Are you sure you're not really a woman?'

Blaine's dad laughed loudly and punched Blaine playfully in the shoulder. 'Brat.'