♥ ♥ ♥

Once we take off from LAX, everyone is asleep in minutes—except for me.

Cooper had asked to switch seats with Mr. Schue, who had a two-seater to himself far behind the rest of New Directions. One look at Cooper’s sad face, and Mr. Schue caved; as a result, he’s now across the aisle from Blaine and me, snoring just loudly enough to annoy me. As I look down at my dormant boyfriend, whose head is pillowed on my chest, I’m reminded of everything that went down over that short weekend. I mean, sure, we’re the reigning Show Choir National Champions now, but my life is falling apart under me.

Thinking about the Cooper Anderson Revenge Plan never used to make me feel sick to my stomach, but it sure does now. I can tell the difference between motion sickness and guilt sickness, and this is definitely the latter. I can’t stand the thought that Blaine and Cooper’s relationship has been shattered irreparably, all because of me. God, Blaine. I love him, and I am the (mostly indirect) cause of every tear that has run down his face since we met.

That depressing thought stays with me all the way home, even as I make halfhearted conversation with my dad and Finn. All I can think about is my sweet Blaine in the car with Cooper; I can only hope he’s okay, and there’s only one way to find out.

Kurt Hummel: you ok sweetheart?

Blainers: my dad picked us up. my DAD.

Blainers: I’m not ok. I didn’t know he was coming

Blainers: I miss you like crazy, baby, and it’s barely been 45 mins

Blainers: please never leave me, you’re all I have, this is hell

Blainers: I need you

Oh, my God, I think to myself. My heart is breaking in my chest at the thought that saving him might incur worse repercussions than simply letting it play out. I hate that—hate that I can’t rescue my beloved from the prison in which he is trapped.

Kurt Hummel: I love you so so so so so much, more than I can say, I’m never leaving you, you’re EVERYTHING to me ♥ I need you too, Blaine. you hold me together. you can always always always come stay with me. ALWAYS, ok? just say the word. the hudson-hummel door is always open for you.

Fifteen agonizing, uncertain minutes later, he responds.

Blainers: I love you more than anything :’) I might take you up on that offer, no one’s said anything this entire car ride and cooper is burning holes in my back

Blainers: I feel like crying but I know I can’t

Blainers: the only emotion an Anderson can show is anger, and they do it often

Blainers: I don’t want to be an anderson

Blainers: I don’t know if anything with cooper will ever be the same but I want it to. we used to be a united front. bc we stood by each other, we were immune to my dad. now he hates me

Now, he hates me. Suddenly, I’m torn between two courses of action—wanting to rush over to the Anderson house to rip Cooper limb from limb for his deplorable behavior, and wanting to rush over to the Anderson house to rescue Blaine and whisk him back to my own; back to people who accept him. But this is all your fault, my brain screams. You caused this.

“I know,” I choke out into the silence of the car. Finn is asleep, and my dad is listening to the radio; neither of them heard me.

Kurt Hummel: you really think you could swing it? sneaking out?

Blainers: honestly, Kurt, I don’t think anyone would care. my mom would worry for half a second, then forget about it. cooper wouldn’t give two shits; ditto my dad. I’ll come over as soon as I get home, ok?

Kurt Hummel: if that’s what you want, baby. I’ll take any excuse to have you close to me, but I just want you to be safe

Blainers: never safer than when I’m with you :) I love you, Kurt.

Kurt Hummel: I love you, Blaine.

A sharp jerk backward alerts me to the fact that we’re home. I gently nudge Finn awake and help my dad bring the bags up to Finn’s and my rooms.

“Dad?” I chirp as I lug Finn’s duffel bag up to his room. He’s still a little bleary, and I figured I’d do him a solid.

My dad turns to look at me. “Yeah, Kurt? Everything okay? You were quiet in the car.” He looks at me with a fatherly concern that tugs at my heartstrings, even though he looks at me that way all the time.

I sigh. I can’t hide anything from my dad. “It’s...you remember Cooper Anderson, right?” I ask him.

He nods. “Blaine’s brother. The one you were dating first.”

“I was never dating him for real, Dad,” I chastise him, earning myself a raised eyebrow and the most skeptical look I’ve ever seen. “Don’t...don’t give me that look. Please.”

I count my blessings that the pain in my soul is evident to him. “Kurt, I’m sorry,” he apologizes as we traverse back down the stairs. “Come sit with me and explain this, okay?”

He and I walk into the living room and sit next to each other on the loveseat. I take a deep breath and start talking. “Cooper is very angry at me, and he’s taking it out on Blaine. He found out about us and cursed us out at Nationals. Blaine is miserable and scared that he’s lost his big brother. You already know their dad’s a homophobe and a biphobe, so neither of them get along with him. They used to stick together, Blaine and Coop, but now, they’re completely at odds. Blaine says it feels like Cooper really...really just hates him.” It takes me a second to notice that I’m crying. “Dad, he’s trapped.”

My dad looks...well, not teary, but supremely moved nonetheless. “Kurt, if Blaine needs a place to stay—”

“Thank you, Dad!” I shout ecstatically, practically flying into his arms with just a bit more force than the situation necessitated. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll go tell him!”

I jump up from the sofa and pause to take in the look on my dad’s face—he’s smiling, but it’s tinged with something else. “I’m so happy, Kurt,” he begins, “that you’ve found love in a town you were completely ready to hate. That you’ve found a home where you thought you’d never belong. I’m proud of you, kid.”

I smile with all my teeth, positively overjoyed at the love I know I’ll always be able to feel, from both my father and my boyfriend. “I’m really happy, too, Dad. Thank you so much.”

I skip away then, praying he understands every meaning behind my gratitude, and shut myself in my room to await my sweetheart’s arrival.

Kurt Hummel: whenever you’re ready!

Blainers: thank you so much :)

Kurt Hummel: it’s the least I can do for the man I love!

“He’s sleeping on the couch!” my dad bellows from downstairs. I roll my eyes so far into the back of my head that I’m afraid they’ll stick.

Kurt Hummel: my dad says you’re sleeping on the couch...

Blainers: if I get a say in this, I’d like to choose the couch in your room! :D

Kurt Hummel: lol not likely, but I’m sure we can work something out.

♥ ♥ ♥

Hours later, Blaine is sound asleep on my pull-out couch, as my dad is a softie at heart. Blaine had pulled out the puppy eyes—unintentionally—and explained to my dad that the closer he was to me, the safer he felt. “I know it’s inappropriate for Kurt and me to share a bed,” Blaine had said, “but if it’s all right with you, I’d prefer to sleep on the couch in Kurt’s room. Door open, of course.” My father had agreed immediately.

I have to hand it to Blaine; he is a real charmer with the adults. He’s just a charmer in general, actually.

When my phone buzzes unexpectedly, I press the screen-lock button fifty or so times just to get it to shut up. Blaine is not the heaviest sleeper, and the last thing I want to do is wake my angel up. I duck under the covers to avoid shining the screen’s light throughout my room. The display reads 1 New Message From: Sam Evans.

Sam? He hates texting. I elect to suspend my disbelief for as long as it takes me to read the message.

Sam Evans: Kurt, go look on the McKinley gossip page. I know it's stupid and we don't like it, but...not everyone feels the way we do...and...just go look ok

Once my disbelief has been sufficiently suspended, I proceed to panic and freak out—completely silently, of course. I can’t think of anything that could be worse for Blaine, in his current state, than worrying about this.

I tap the screen and open up the Facebook app, logging in and making my way to the page. When I get there, the Internet connection falters; it’s almost like my phone doesn’t want me to see what’s waiting for me.

When it finally loads, however, it’s exactly what I’ve been dreading.

McKinley Gossip

Riddles for today:

This reformed player has recently discovered that it's all in the family. What don't he and his little brother share? Questions, questions.

Before you call him a homewrecker, remember: he saw—and body-checked—him first.

Before you call him a homewrecker, remember: it was all in the plan, and his hands were tied.

And yes, the three blinds are connected.

As my eyes register the words on the screen, I’m overcome with a pounding in my head and a pressing need to vomit. Each of those two things on its own is a bad story, but simultaneously, it’s agony. Oh, God, Blaine’s going to see these...and so is Cooper.

How have I gotten myself into shit this deep? And, more importantly, who the hell is messing with the three of us?

But, above all else...why?

♥ ♥ ♥

The following Friday, I elect to wait for Blaine outside his last class of the day. The AP World History classroom is right next to one of the school's many exits, which is a godsend; Blaine and I need to get out of here as fast as we can before we get interrogated further.

This entire week, we've been fielding questions about those damned blind items on that damned page. I'm so angry I could scream. What the fuck made this person think it was okay to trash Blaine—and Cooper, and me—that way? Tearing someone's reputation to shreds through a computer screen is one of the most cowardly things I can think of, and it hurts my heart that my sweet, wonderful Blaine is being subjected to this cruelty.

A tap on my shoulder snaps me out of my reverie.

"Yes?" I mumble absentmindedly.

"Jacob Ben Israel here, bringing McKinley's hot topics to the masses—"

"Leave me alone," I groan, waving a hand in Jacob's direction without once looking him in the face. I sit down on a nearby bench and put my head in my hands. I’m probably wrecking my pores, but I can’t bring myself to care.
No sooner than my deep yoga breaths start to take effect, another person taps on my shoulder. "What?" I snap.

"Kurt, it's me," the voice giggles. Blaine.

"My savior," I breathe, returning the hug he gives me. We determined that in order to keep from fanning the flames, we would do no worse than hug in the halls until this all blew over—if it ever did. "What do you say we get out of here?" I get up immediately, taking Blaine's hand and speed-walking toward the exit.

Blaine grins. "I say yes. That is what I say." His adorable face coaxes a rare, albeit faint, smile out of me.

On the way to my car, I can feel Blaine's sidelong gaze. He stares at me for a good few seconds before taking my arm and stopping us where we stand—in the middle of a parking spot. He looks at me with the love and concern that can only be expressed by a soulmate. "Hey, hey," he murmurs, taking both of my hands and squeezing them. "We will get through this. A paper ball got thrown at me today, and its message said...a few choice words about my character, and it sucked. You know how I got through it without doing something I'd regret?"

I tilt my head as if to say what?

"I thought of you, of how much I love you. It helps that I was in precalc and we were learning about infinite series." Blaine winks at me.

I gaze up at my perfect boyfriend. "I love you so infinitely much. If you ever leave me, I can promise you right now I'll go to pieces."

When Blaine replies with a vehement "I'm never leaving you, Kurt Hummel," I can't hold back any longer. I seal the distance between our mouths, letting my arms wrap solidly around Blaine's back. A piece of tissue paper wouldn't fit between us.

It's because of this that Blaine pulls away from our kiss to let me know my phone's buzzing. I roll my eyes. "Great timing." I unlock my phone and read the message.

Finn!!!: Can I get a ride? Practice canceled.

Blaine chuckles at Finn's display name.

"He entered his own contact," I explain, rolling my eyes fondly. Finn's weird, but I really do love him. He's been there for me when no one else has.

Kurt Hummel: Sure thing :) taking B too.

Finn!!!: Obviously :P

A few minutes later, Finn arrives at the car, slinging his backpack down on the asphalt of the parking lot and wrenching Blaine and me into a bear hug.
"I'm here, okay? I'll beat up anyone you want me to," he promises.

Blaine and I grin at each other, then at Finn. "We'll keep you posted," Blaine replies, earning a giant grin from Finn as the two of them put their bags in the backseat. Blaine calls shotgun, as always, and Finn gives it up willingly. This feels like a family, the three of us, and I suddenly can't wait until the day Blaine and I make that official.

♥ ♥ ♥

Out of fear of his brother, Blaine stays at my house for the weekend. It's wonderfully therapeutic; we spend a good chunk of it easing each other's pain with kisses—and sex, but only when my dad and Carole aren't home. Cuddling up in my arms seems to soothe him, and the extra sleep has done him good—in stressful situations, I've learned, Blaine can't sleep. Like, at all.

On Monday morning, I wake up first, around eight. It's a long weekend, so we have the day off. I curl up tighter against the warm boyfriend I'm spooning,

"Mmm, good morning," he murmurs. Guess I didn't wake up first.

"No, not morning," I protest. "You need the sleep, baby. Go back to sleep." I pet his ungelled hair, hoping it will coax him back to sleep.

Blaine chuckles. "So sweet," he breathes, rolling over to grip my face in his hands. "Love you so much. But I'm fine, honey. Just...stay in bed with me a little while longer, okay?" He smiles that cute Blaine smile, because he knows I can't refuse him anything when he looks at me like that.

I smile back, pulling him closer for a smiling kiss. When we pull away, Blaine buries his sweet face in my neck, pressing a small kiss to the inch of skin against his lips.

"Love you, too," I murmur.

"I know." He presses his forehead to mine. "We'll make it through this, Kurt. I know we will."

I smile wanly. "I know we will be fine. But what about the fallout with Cooper?"
Blaine frowns and stiffens in my arms, and I hate myself instantly.

"I'm sorry, Blaine, baby; that came out wrong. Everything will be all right. I promise."

"Pinky swear?" Blaine murmurs, almost a whimper. His pinky is outstretched, and I hook it with my own.

"Pinky swear," I promise him. "Now, let me get out my phone and see what kind of damage control I'll have to do today."

Blaine chuckles, suddenly in a markedly better mood. "I'm sure it's no worse than any other day."

I hope and pray he's right as I thumb through my Facebook feed to find the McKinley Gossip page. Blaine's right—there's nothing new there; just the same infuriating posts from earlier in the week. The longer I stare at them, the more they seem to mock me.

This reformed player has recently discovered that it's all in the family. What don't he and his brother share? Questions, questions.

Before you call him a homewrecker, remember: he saw—and body-checked—him first.

Before you call him a homewrecker, remember: it was all in the plan, and his hands were tied.

It takes me a good few seconds, but when I feel Blaine's soft, curly, innocent head pressing against the nape of my neck, I know I have to do something about it. I’ve been sitting idle far too long.

♥ ♥ ♥

Half an hour later, I'm on my way to doing something about it. I've been writing for the past twenty minutes, and I'm almost done with my scathing rebuttal to McKinley Gossip. Blaine, meanwhile, is catcalling from the bed.

"You're hot when you're angry," he flirts. "Like...damn."

I giggle at my boyfriend, who is lying on his side just inside my peripheral vision. It looks like he's in his underwear. "Stop," I groan playfully. "You're hot when I'm angry. Especially at times like these, when you’re wearing nothing but your underwear."

"Oh, Kurt," Blaine sighs, and it almost sounds as though he, just like the posts, is mocking me. "I'm not."

I roll my eyes and shake my head. Blaine could be so self-deprecating sometimes. I turn around in my desk chair to tell him just how wrong he is.

"Yes, you are—"

"I meant the underwear."

My eyes bug out of my head when my eyes come to rest on Blaine's luscious body. He's completely naked, and I thank a God I don't believe in that my father and stepmother are both at work. "Blaine, I—you—damn.”

"Maybe, you wanna take a break?" Blaine coos, a dirty little smile on his beautiful face.

My heart and my dick are both screaming at me to hop back into that bed, but my brain wins out in the end. "In a little bit, babe. Don't you dare put any clothes on."

He groans and flops back onto my pillows. "Fiiiiiine. What are you even doing? It can't be more important than sex."

"Believe it or not, this is more important than sex. I'm writing a rebuttal of sorts to McKinley Gossip...and now, I'm done!" I trill as I tack a period onto the end of the last sentence.

It's truly a thing of beauty, in my humble opinion. It's the perfect expression of everything I've been dying to say.

Kurt Hummel --> McKinley Gossip

Dear cowardly McKinley Gossip administrator,

Who do you think you are? You don't even know me; not truly. I'm just a human being, like you, who got caught up in the excitement of having friends, and all but forgot that someone would end up getting hurt. You think I would hop the next flight back to NYC if I could? There was a time, months ago, when I would have agreed with you. But now...despite all the feelings I have hurt, all the tension and animosity I have caused, and all the rumors that have surrounded me, I have something good. Something amazing. I have a love, and it's all that I have. Somebody loves me. No one can take that away from me.

I can deal with the backlash on me for my actions. I hate myself for what I did to Cooper Anderson. Hate. Myself. But I will NOT sit idly by while you slander the love of my life. Blaine is everything sweet and innocent and beautiful in this fucked-up world, and I won't stand to see you break him down. This whole thing is killing him, but all you care about is providing fodder for your "gossip" website.

This isn't gossip. This is cyberbullying.

I don't deserve my boyfriend. He is too good for me. People are calling him a homewrecker, but you're right—I'M the homewrecker. I nearly destroyed the Anderson brothers' bond, and I will never be able to forgive myself. Family is the most precious thing a person can have, and I carelessly stomped all over it.

Trash me and my reputation all you want, but stay away from Blaine, or I swear I'll make you wish you had.

Sincerely,

Kurt Hummel.

"Can I please read it?" Blaine pleads. "Pretty please?"

"I mean, sure," I reply nonchalantly, still facing my desk. "It might not end up being particularly persuasive or special, but...it came from my heart."

I can hear Blaine getting up from the bed—still sinfully naked, I presume—and, seconds later, I feel his strong, warm arms around my shoulders. "If it came from your heart, of course it's special," he replies vehemently, burying his face in my neck and breathing me in. "Should I read it now or later?"

I pause to ruminate on the topic. “Later,” I decide. “Definitely later.”

Blaine kisses my neck, mouthing at it like he’s on a mission. “Mmm, well, I can think of some things we can do to keep me occupied until ‘later.’” He nips lightly at the skin he’s been sucking on, giggling against my neck. “What do you say, Mr. Rebuttalist?”

“I’d say that’s definitely not a word.” I laugh heartily, twisting my neck around to cup Blaine’s face in my hands and kiss him gently. He wastes no time in deepening it. He groans into my mouth, as if that will get us to the bed any faster. “I’d say I love you, sweetheart, and I’d say we’ll get through this together.”

I kiss Blaine’s smile, and he beams even wider at me. “You deserve the world, Kurt Hummel,” he breathes, coaxing me up out of the chair, “and I wish, more than anything, that I could give it to you.” He climbs onto the bed, and I’m powerless not to follow—as if I would miss a chance to make love to him.

“Someday, we’ll have everything,” he says, “but until then, I’ll love you with everything I already have, everything I am.”

“I couldn’t ask for more, my love,” I murmur as he straddles me and cups my face to kiss me harder than before. You are the world, I think to him, willing the thought to pass through to his brain. Being as it is that that’s impossible, I just hope and pray he already knows.

♥ ♥ ♥

That night, as Blaine and I cuddle in bed, my phone rings again. It’s been blowing up as of late, with people I barely know asking questions they don’t have the right to ask. I roll my eyes as I enter my passcode and look at the message.

Santana Lopez: I’ve got you, baby. you and blaine.

“What the fuck?” Blaine mumbles, voice rough from lack of use—he’s prone to falling asleep during cuddle sessions.

I let out a surprised laugh at the expletive; Blaine doesn’t swear often. “I have no idea what she’s up to,” I murmur, staring at my phone with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.

“Do you think it has something to do with the...posts?” Blaine asks, and I can hear the anxiety in his voice as well.

“It could,” I muse, “but, Blaine, she’s not going to do anything to hurt us. Cooper? Maybe. Us? Not a chance.”

Blaine smiles, poking my cheek. I look over at him, incredulous, and he takes the opportunity to kiss me. Awww. “I love you,” he whispers. “Never forget that.”

“I’ll always love you,” I coo, choked up with emotion. “I’ll love you no matter what happens, no matter what gets in our way.”

Blaine’s smile lights up his face like a sunbeam, and he holds me close like I’m some precious thing he can’t bear to let go. I can only hope he knows that’s what he is to me.

"Should we see what she's up to?" Blaine asks, his eyes soft in the evening sunset that filters through the blinds.

I simply nod, resting my head against his broad chest.

Kurt Hummel: what have you done?!?!

Santana Lopez: check the devil page. tell blainey bear he’s welcome.

"God, why does everything have to come back around to that stupid page?" Blaine cries, fisting his hands in my sheets. "Our reps are already ruined. I'll never get reelected to ASB now. I barely got elected before, on account of the whole 'Blaine's a homo' smear campaign Dave Karofsky mounted against me. Santana probably just fanned the flames, no matter if she meant well. Your post was the most beautiful thing ever written, but I'm scared of what Santana's post might incur." Blaine buries his face in my hair, shielding his eyes from the bright light of my phone’s screen. “Just tell me how bad it is.”

“Will do,” I mutter, the unease sneaking into my voice as I open up the Facebook app for what seems like the hundredth time today. Appropriately, the screen displays the McKinley Gossip homepage automatically, as that’s the last place I visited. I'd showed Blaine my post, and he'd wrestled me into an hour-long cuddling and kissing session.

I press “refresh” and watch as the icons, cover photo, and details all load anew.

Shockingly, my post isn’t at the top anymore, although my notifications alert me to the fact that it has gained 33 likes and 24 comments. I decide it’s better not to read them just yet.

No, the post that’s at the top bears a different name. I'm tagged in it, as is Cooper.

Santana Lopez --> McKinley Gossip

Yeah, I’m gonna follow up what Kurt said, mkay? Clear some things up, straighten some folks out. Some of you are being MORE than a little rude.

For starters: This was my fault. Well...not entirely my fault. I had two cohorts. Rachel Berry, Brittany Pierce, and myself were very angry when Cooper Anderson broke up with all of us at the beginning of this year; so angry that we enlisted the poor, hapless new student—who had the misfortune of sitting with us in study hall that day—to help us with an elaborate revenge plan. You all know him as Kurt Hummel. It could have been ANYONE, female or gay male.

Anyway, so the three of us made Kurt into Cooper’s dream guy, got them together (in a manner of speaking; they were never exclusive, contrary to popular belief), and then plotted to have Kurt break Cooper’s heart.

Here’s the thing: We didn’t anticipate Kurt and Blaine. We didn’t anticipate that at all, and we didn’t plan for it. Kurt met Blaine just a few minutes after he met us—Blaine wasn’t looking where he was walking, and ended up plowing into Kurt and knocking them both to the ground. They’ve both told me this story at least five separate times. Kurt always tells me it was love at first sight, and I heard the same thing from Blaine a few weeks ago. They met before the three of us came whining to Kurt about our Cooper problems. They fell in love. Who can blame them for that?

Some folks have been running around saying that Kurt cheated on Cooper with Blaine...and I don’t know that it’s my place to comment on the details of that, but I can tell you this much: no cheating happened. Cooper wasn’t even dating anyone else during his non-exclusive fling with Kurt.

Some folks have also been running around calling Kurt, Blaine, and Cooper mean names...and it’s DEFINITELY my place to say SHUT THE FUCK UP. You wanna call someone mean names? Bring it, muchachos. I’m a big girl, and I’m the one you should all be angry at.

Why are all of you angry, though? It has NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU.

Long story short, back the fuck off. Cooper doesn’t need anyone overpublicizing his breakup, Kurt is my homeboy for life and I suggest you leave him be if you want to keep all your limbs, and Blaine feels guilty enough already. I know he and I had our differences last year, but he’s my friend, and he is hurting so badly. He feels awful. It’s eating him alive. If you want a good, functional student body president for the next year we’ll all be spending in this shithole, don’t make him feel worse, assholes.

Love, Santana xoxo

“How bad is it?” Blaine asks, finally lifting his head up and out of my hair. “Do I need to move schools?” After a few minutes of silence, Blaine taps my head three times to get my attention. “Kurt, you okay—why are you crying?”

I touch my cheek and discover that it’s wet. “I...didn’t even notice,” I croak, trying to keep my emotions in check. “Blaine, it’s not...it’s not bad at all. Here.” I hold my phone out to him, and he takes it eagerly. I wait patiently for him to finish reading, and when he does, he’s crying, too. I point out that fact to him, making him chuckle through his tears.

“Santana used to hate me,” he reveals, shaking his head in disbelief. “She used to push me into lockers when we were freshmen—I had a growth spurt right before this year, so I was a tiny freshman. She was the first person to figure out I was gay, and she told me she knew. I was so afraid she’d tell the school before I even had a chance to tell my brother, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why she never told a soul. When she joined Glee Club in the middle of the year, and we found out she was actually really good, I was so afraid she’d try and ruin that for me. I couldn’t let her. Glee was my sanctuary, and Santana was the exact opposite. She made my life just a little bit more miserable every day of freshman year. But, oddly enough, she was the reason I ran for student body president for this year. I stood no chance, but I needed to prove to her, the Cheerios, and the football team that I was worth just as much as them; that just because I was five-foot-four and wore bowties...that didn’t mean I didn’t matter. But I won. Somehow, I won, and I’m the student body president as a sophomore.”

Blaine smiles through his tears, overcome with nostalgia.

“And then, this year...it was like a complete turnaround. She met you, and then I met you...and we both fell in love with you, in completely different ways. Platonically, for her, obviously. Her respect for you knows no bounds. She’s a different person since she met you, and I don’t think she would ever have gotten up the courage to tell Brittany how she felt without your encouragement. I don’t think she would have reached out to me as a friend before you reached out to her. Now that some things have come to light, obviously, I know why she never told anyone I was gay. Starting this year, we’ve been honest-to-God friendly with one another. Santana Lopez has publicly declared that she has my back. She has nicknames for me. Santana Lopez and I are friends.” He gives an awed chuckle. “Of all the impossible things, we’re friends...all because of you, Kurt.” Blaine cuddles me close, looking up at me with those shiny golden eyes. “I love you so much. I love you with everything in me.”

A fresh wave of tears rolls down my face as I hug him tight and whisper “I love you more than you can imagine.” I pull back from our embrace to grasp his shoulders and press our foreheads together. “I never would have guessed that she used to bully you,” I murmur. “It always seemed like you were friends. She’s gonna beat people up for us.”

“I think we’ve grown to be friends...but she never really apologized for all the shit last year. As long as it’s not me she’s beating up anymore, I think I’m good.” Blaine winks, opening my text message inbox up.

“Whoa, there, mister,” I warn him jokingly. “I don’t have anything to hide, but you best ask first.”

“I’m texting Santana,” he justifies, looking at me with the puppy eyes that work every time. “I need to talk to her myself, and my phone’s dead.”

“Babe, I was kidding,” I insist. “Text away. Can I look?”

Blaine waves his hand as if to say feel free, and I shift into a comfortable position, propping my head up on his broad, tanned shoulder.

Kurt Hummel: hey, it’s blaine. I just wanted to say thanks for...well, for everything in your post, haha. you weren’t my biggest fan for a really long year, but we’ve been friends all this year, and you just told the whole school you have my back. that means a whole lot to me. so thanks, santana. oh, and your post made us cry :’)

Santana Lopez: (1/2) blainey bear! I’ve been wanting to apologize (formally) for a really long time, ok? I promise. texting is a shitty conduit for apologies, but I feel terrible to this day about how I treated you freshman year, and I’m really really really super duper incredibly sorry. I hope you know that. it wasn’t my place to do any of that shit to you...well I mean, it’s nobody’s place to do any shit to anyone...but you know what I mean.

Santana Lopez: (2/2) now you know why I never told anyone you were gay, I guess...haha. I’m really glad you see me as a friend, because that’s how I’ve seen you this whole year! I hope we can put the past behind us, cause I’ve really grown to love you, blainey :) and I totally have your back. say the word if anyone gives you any more shit.

Kurt Hummel: I guess I have to come up with a nickname for you to replace “satan” from freshman year :P I really really really super duper forgive you. you’re a different person now. I remember when we went to the karaoke bar with everyone after regionals, and you were like ‘that was my friend blaine!’ and it made me happy. reading your post, it just kinda...reinforced how you feel about me, which is that we’re friends! I’m really glad we’re friends :) love you too.

Santana Lopez: I’ll give you some time to think about that nickname ;) I really respect you, blainey, and I’m glad we turned over a new leaf this year. promise.

♥ ♥ ♥

The next day, we have school, and I barely see Blaine all day. The student body, however, makes up for that with an unprecedented show of support. Quinn Fabray, to whom I’ve barely spoken all year long, gives me a hug in the hallway and tells me she’s proud to be in Glee with me. Mike Chang and Lauren Zizes fight over the seat next to me in algebra, much to the dismay of Tina, who is also in the class.

But the most shocking development of the day has to be the one where David Karofsky, of all people—infamous bully extraordinaire and Blaine’s former presidential opponent—offers me a ride home.

“I’m good,” I call to him, unlocking my car to drive the point home—literally.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he stumbles. “It’s still cool, what you, um...posted. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“I won’t!” I respond, smiling to myself as I put my bag on the passenger seat. I don’t have to drive anyone home today; Finn has football practice, and Blaine, as the student body president, has to assemble all four class presidents and put them to work setting up for spring parent-teacher conferences. As a result, he won’t be home until 4:30.

Meanwhile, I decide to be impulsive; I stop at Starbucks on the way home and inadvertently run into Rachel. We end up chatting for far longer than either of us expects, and it isn’t until she checks her phone and realizes two hours have gone by that we decide to go our separate ways. I push the speed limit all the way to my house only to find that there’s no one home. When I get inside, I find a note on the door from my father, explaining that he and Carole are having an impromptu date night and won’t be home until around ten. That’s nice, I think to myself. Maybe, I can have Blaine over.

Evidently, my evening has plans of its own. I almost don’t pick up the phone when it starts ringing, and my heart skips a beat or five when I see who’s calling me.

Incoming Call From: Cooper Anderson

Here it comes. He’s going to yell at you some more, maybe post a message of his own on that delightful little gossip page, my brain shouts at me. I know it won’t end well, but I can’t just let the opportunity slip away. We’re going to have to talk rationally at some point; isn’t now as good a time as any?

I press “answer,” crossing my fingers, my legs, and all of my toes.

“Cooper?” I croak, trying not to let my nerves get the better of me.

“I saw Santana’s post,” he says.

“Y-you did?”

Cooper gives a little chuckle on the other end of the line. “Kurt, I understand now. I get it.”

What?

“C-c-come again?”

Cooper sighs. “I know how you felt, why you did it. I was new once. Blaine and I both came from a tiny private school, and I knew absolutely no one freshman year. I did things I'm not proud of in order to win myself some friends.” He heaves another sigh, obviously troubled by the memories. “Rachel, Santana, and Brittany won you over, and...am I right so far?”

“Dead on,” I breathe, barely able to make my voice work.

Cooper laughs, and I can’t tell if he’s trying to ease the tension or emphasize it. “Okay, good. Anyway, I know from what's been posted, in addition to what Rachel has told me in her overly exclamation-marked texts, that you were against it for the longest time. You wanted to have friends at your new school, so you gave in. That's understandable. Everyone wants to feel accepted. I'm, well, I’m not exactly honest in relationships,” he chuckles. “When I was with you, I mean, that's the first time since I started doing the serial-cheater thing that I've been with just one person. But, the thing is...yeah, you hurt me, Kurt, but I'm not blind.”

My throat feels like a cross between a cashmere sweater and the Sahara. Pressing the phone to my ear, I wander downstairs and fill up a glass of water. I thank a God I don’t believe in that no one is around to ask me who I’m talking to.

“What do you mean?” I choke out after a sip of water.

Cooper gives another disconcerting chuckle. “Kurt, let’s be real. We need to talk about you and my baby brother.”

Here we go. ‘Lying, duplicitous asshole’ can’t be the worst he’s got. “I—Coop, I'm...so sorry,” I tell him once I’m holed up, safe, in my room.

“And I forgive you. Kurt, come on. Anyone with eyes could see the way you looked at Blaine, except me. I was blind. You've always loved him. You still look at him like that, and it melts him into a little pile of Kurt-saturated heart goo because his boyfriend is looking at him like that. You're finally his boyfriend, and you make him so happy. Before Nationals, he used to walk around the house with this big, dopey grin on his face, and I feel like a monster for taking that away, even though I wasn’t exactly in the loop.” I can hear the sadness in Cooper’s voice. “You are the light of his life, and he's never letting you go. He's my Beebee, and who am I to begrudge him love? If he has that with you, then I support you together, no matter what we've been through this year. See, I liked you a lot, Kurt, but Blaine can't live without you.”

I can’t help but choke up a little myself. “Oh, Cooper. You—you really forgive me?” It seems too good to be true.

“I really forgive you, Kurt Hummel.” I can hear Cooper’s smile through the phone. “So, what do you say? Just friends sound good?”

“That sounds amazing,” I breathe.

“Great,” Cooper replies. “You should come over, though. Can you come over now?”

“I mean, I can; my parents are on a date. But...why? Is Blaine okay?” My mind races, conjuring up all the awful things that could have happened to my sweet love.

Cooper sighs heavily. “He won't talk to me, so I don’t know. Just...please come over, if you can, okay?”

Cooper hangs up then, leaving me alone in my room. Without a moment's hesitation, I run down the stairs and out the door to my car, peeling away from the curb and nearly speeding all the way to the Andersons' house. Cooper opens the door.

"What's wrong?" I wheeze, out of breath from sprinting up the stairs.

Cooper smiles, a little shady and a lot disconcerting. "Come with me."

Cooper leads me up the stairs to a door at the end of the hall; a door I know intimately, having pressed Blaine up against it countless times. Cooper smiles at me, hand shaking where it's resting on my shoulder. "You first."

I nod, obeying orders and opening the door to my boyfriend's room. Blaine is seated at his desk, hair curly, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. His nose is practically buried in his Biology textbook. He doesn't look anything like school Blaine. He turns around when he hears me come in.

"Hey, you," he flirts, beckoning me closer with one finger. He gets up from the chair and kisses me soundly when I obey. "I'm so happy to see you. You didn't tell me you were coming!"

I bite my lip. "Um...about that. I—"

"I called him," Cooper interrupts, walking into the room. I need both of you to sit down."

"Why?" Blaine snorts belligerently.

Cooper stares at him, and I see nothing but pain in his eyes. My paranoid brain entertains the possibility that the phone call was all an act; that he's going to tell us off again. "Just sit down on your bed, Blaine. You too, Kurt."

Blaine complies with a roll of his eyes, and I sit next to him. "What's going on, Cooper?" I plead.

"I need to talk to you both." Cooper sits down at Blaine's desk. "As you know, some shit went down at Nationals. I said and did some things that I'm not proud of. I yelled at you, I yelled at Blaine, I fucked up the dance moves because I was just so enraged in the moment. I was so angry that I lost sight of the fact that the two of you couldn't help it. You can't fight love. And, Blaine, I was absolutely awful and evil and unfair to you, and I am so, so incredibly sorry. Both of you. Kurt, what you did with the three amigas sucked, but we talked that out on the phone. Blaine, you are the most important person in the world to me. I love you so much, and I am always on your side. I let my own stupid problems get in the way, and I am so afraid that I've lost my baby brother." Cooper takes a deep breath. "I feel so despicable. I will never be able to forgive myself, but I hope you can forgive me."

Cooper's eyes are shiny with tears, and I just want to hug him and tell him it's all okay. I can't, though. Fundamentally, this is between Cooper and Blaine. I can't—won't—make it about me.

Cooper and I look at each other, concerned, and then at Blaine. He's near tears himself, but the happy, sunshiny smile on his face is more than enough to reassure us. Blaine holds out his arms, not saying a word, and Cooper pulls his brother into a deep, meaningful hug.

"I'm sorry," Cooper whispers in Blaine's ear, just barely loud enough for me to hear. "I'm so sorry."

After a few minutes, they break away. "Blaine, are you okay?" I murmur, reaching out to stroke my boyfriend's hair. He hasn't said a word yet.

He turns to me and nods, leaning back against my chest. "I'm just...so happy," he chokes out, tugging Cooper's shoulder in an attempt to get him in on the cuddle session. "And lucky. So lucky."

Cooper smiles into my neck; the cuddle pile has gotten quite tangled. "So, do you forgive me?"

"Of course I do," Blaine answers emphatically. "You're my big brother. I'll always forgive you, no matter what."

"Kurt?"

I chuckle. "Cooper, you know I do. We talked about this."

We share a laugh, and Blaine pokes his head up from the cuddle pile. "Jesus, how long did you guys talk?" He raises one perfect isosceles eyebrow at us, making us laugh harder.

"I called him to apologize and told him to come over here so I could apologize to both of you, together, in person. God, I hated not talking to you, Beebee." Cooper pouts, pulling the puppy eyes I’ve seen so many times on Blaine.

"I did, too," Blaine admits. "It was awful."

"No picnic for me, either," I chime in, getting a laugh out of Blaine and Cooper.

Blaine gazes up at me with the dreamiest expression on his face.
"I love you so much. I haven't said that today." He leans up on his hands to kiss my cheek. "Thank you for being the one I slammed into."

"Thank you for loving him," Cooper murmurs, and I can tell he's trying not to get choked up. "I forgive you, you forgive me, we're a happy family...by marriage, once you two get hitched. Anyone up for a movie?" Cooper springs up from the bed, landing on his feet with his hands on his hips. "I think we should see a movie, the three of us."

Blaine grins at me, then Cooper, then the ceiling as he flops back onto the bed in elation. "I'm pretty sure it's illegal, and/or impossible, for one guy to be this happy. You guys have no idea."

Cooper smiles fondly at his brother, who launches himself of the bed. I quickly follow suit, grabbing my wallet and keys.

"So," I pipe up, joining the Anderbrothers as we walk down the stairs, "what should we see?"

"Not sure," Cooper muses.

"I don't know about you two," Blaine begins, interlacing his fingers with mine, "but I think something with a happy ending would be appropriate right now."

"All's well that ends well," I quip.

"It sure is," Cooper agrees. "After all, I have a friend in you, my baby brother back...and you two got each other out of all this." He smiles at us as I unlock my car and open the passenger and back doors for Blaine and Cooper. Once Blaine's situated in the front seat, I lean over and kiss him softly. When we pull away, he's grinning.

"We got each other out of all this," he echoes.

I nod emphatically, chuckling to myself.

"What is it?" Blaine asks.

"Oh, nothing," I reply glibly. "I’m just wondering how I could ever have thought Lima, Ohio, would be boring."

It's no New York. If it's true, though, that home can be a person and not a place, all I have to do is look to my right at the beautiful boy sitting shotgun in my car. He's my home, and he always will be.

♥ end ♥