“For how long will she be here this time?”

“It’s impossible to say right now, but we’ll let you know as soon as we know. And we’ll call if there’s anything else you need to know.”

“Thank you.”

“Will you be alright?” one of the nurses asked him worriedly.

“Don’t you worry about me. Worry about her.” he replied quietly and walked out of the tiny, white room.

Once the boy was outside, he remembered that he had no idea how to get back home. He could always walk, but that would take more than a while, and it wasn’t really anything he’d chose to do.

But he didn’t have a choice. So Blaine started the long walk back to his house, and about an hour later he was finally home, sweaty and tired.

Deciding to take a shower, he dragged himself up the stairs and into his room. He walked over to his wardrobe, stumbling over the thousands of books scattered all over the floor, just to fall when he had the luck to kick his toe into his bed. Swearing, he jumped on one leg the rest of the way and when he finally reached his built-into-the-wall closet, he sighed heavily and grabbed one of his white t-shirts and black jeans, this pair worn almost to pieces from being his favorites for years.

After closing the door to the bathroom behind him, not bothering locking it since he was alone in the big house, Blaine stripped down to his underwear before examining his body in the mirror.

Even though the boy was overall quite small for his age, he was still quite muscular and he personally thought that if people wouldn’t know his actual ‘size’, they’d probably think he was the exact same height and everything as every average 18 year old.

After a second of hesitation, he turned around so his back was turned to the big bathroom mirror, and he could feel his hear sink and blood boil as always. He brought a hand up and numbly traced across the scar running across his shoulders and the higher part of his back. With a heavy sigh he yanked his underwear off too, tossed them on the pile he’d made of his other clothes, and took a few short steps before he stood with his body under the steaming hot water.

He let his curl-filled head fall backwards, enjoying the hot water flowing over his face and down naked body for a few good minutes before taking the soap and shampoo from their stand and washing his body and hair.

Twenty minutes later and Blaine once again stood in front of the shiny mirror, now clean and shaved, a tiny towel draped around his waist. He was just about to walk back to his room, not really wanting to get dressed yet when it was so much more comfortable to just walk around with a towel, when he heard steps coming up the stairs.

He was just about to ask ‘who’s there?’ when he remembered just how that always went in all the horror movies he’d seen through his life. And he didn’t really feel like getting murdered today. Especially not while draping around in just a towel around his waist. That was no way to die.

“Blaine? You in here?”

 “Where’s your mother?” he asked, stepping out of the bathroom.

“Uhm…” mumbled the boy, looking at him with abnormally big eyes. “She’s at work.”

“Right.” Blaine muttered, walking passed the much taller teen, feeling the lustful eyes looking at him from head to toe.

“Eyes to yourself, Smythe.”

“Can you blame me for looking?” came a response, and he could hear the smirk in the boy’s voice.

“Yeah, I can.”

“Come on, Blaine, you’re walking around in a towel barely covering anything. Can’t blame a boy for having needs.”

“Guess not. But not now. I need to eat something, didn’t have time to eat at school. You brought the food or were your mind too filled with sex to remember?”

“It’s downstairs, asshole. But you need to put on some clothes, or I won’t give you any time to eat anything. Not any of the food at least.” he could hear the brunette add with a smirk as he left the room.

Sebastian Smythe. He was… he was Sebastian. There wasn’t really any way to explain him. The two of them shared a strange relationship, had done ever since the Smythes moved to town and became neighbours with the Andersons. His parents, mother firstly, were the kindest. The moment they’d found out about the situation with the woman next door, Blaine’s mom, that is, they’d insisted on helping the now family of two as much as possible. Buying them food was one of the many things for example. It was mostly Blaine’s money they used when they bought it, but working part-time in the Lima Bean as a high school student didn’t really give you enough to live on, and the Smythes were more than willing to fill in the money needed for mother and son to survive.

Blaine had been more than uncomfortable with the agreement at first, having a at the time stranger clean the house and so on. He’d tried to work against it the first few months, putting even more effort into taking care of the house and his mother, but had soon realized that he could actually do with some help every now and then. And now Leila Smythe was almost like a second mother, even if that was something Blaine would never admit to anyone.

“Took you long enough.”

“Well sorry, but I see no reason to rush.”

“Stop teasing me, Anderson, I sort of really need you like, now.”

“You ‘sort of’ really need me?” Blaine asked in an amused tone.

“I really, really, need you.”

Blaine laughed, but didn’t hurry up what he was doing at all, loving to tease his… whatever he was. ‘Fuck buddy’ was probably the most appropriate term, he guessed.

 “Desperate little boy whore.” he chuckled as he swallowed the last mouth of the egg and bacon he’d made for himself, smirking at the hungry eyes the other boy had gave him during the whole process, which, of course, he’d dragged out as much as possible.

“Get your ass upstairs before I make you fuck me right here over the table.” Sebastian muttered with a husky voice and Blaine rolled his eyes.

“It’s been… what? One week?”

“Yes.” the tall teen hissed as he practically tore Blaine’s white t-shirt over his head. “One week. That’s seven fucking days without any contact.”

“Fine –guess you’re right.” mumbled the boy, his usually hazel orbs now almost black with lust.

They somehow made their way up the creaky stairs, touching and kissing every inch they could reach of the other. Blaine grabbed the tall teen by the collar of his ridiculously dapper polo, and pushed him up against the closed door to his room, attacking his mouth with his own.
“I need you naked now.” grumbled one of them, neither sure who, but it didn’t matter, ‘cause they both more than agreed.

“I’m so fucking bored!” Kurt groaned, hitting his head into the thin paper wall repeatedly.

“Shut up.” mumbled Quinn from her side of the room.

“But I’m bored.”

“Since when did you become such a fucking crybaby, Kurt?”

“Since you stopped coming with me to Scandals.” he responded grumpily.

Quinn raised her eyebrows. “Thought you thought I was a pathetic fag-hag who needed to get a life and stop going to gay bars?”

“I do. But I still think it sucks going there alone.”

“Nothing I can do about it.”

“Yes there is –“

“I’m not drinking Kurt, I’m pregnant. So there’s absolutely no way I’ll come with you to a bar.”

“But –“

“No.” Quinn said sternly in a ‘this conversation is over’ tone and Kurt just made a noise in disapprovement.

This sucks. Why can’t it just be Halloween today?

Speaking of Halloween…

“You’re at least coming to the Puckerman thingy on Halloween, right?”

“You serious?”

“Duh?”

“Have you forgotten what I just told you like two seconds ago?”

“But you won’t have to drink there. I’m sure there’ll sober people there if the Glee Club’s invited.” he said sarcastically.

“Well while you’re probably right about that, I don’t really feel like spending the night with Berry, that stuttering Asian girl, the boy in the weelchair and whoever, or whatever, those others are.”

“That doesn’t sound like much fun, no.” Kurt mumbled.

“By the way, Quinn… Does he know?”

“No.” she answered, knowing exactly what he meant.

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Nope. There’s no reason to. I don’t need his help. Don’t want my child to have anything to do with him.”

“Right…”

Well, Kurt didn’t really agree about that.

 Not that he liked Puck or would ever even close to respect him after he left the Skanks just to be with some girl, but he sort of thought that he should know that he had made a girl pregnant. He could only imagine how it’d feel for him, not that he’d ever get yet to experience it.

But if Quinn wanted the fact that Noah was the father a secret, he guessed he couldn’t do anything but keep it that way.

“Well,” Sebastian hoisted himself up on his elbows, looking over at the boy beside him. “I need to go. Jeff and the others are waiting.”

Blaine groaned. “You still hanging with those guys?”

“We go to the same school idiot.”

“So?”

“So, I’m not really into the whole ‘bad boy image’ the way you are. Not for myself at least.” he smirked.

“I like having people around.” he added with a shrug and stood up. Blaine let his eyes wander over the male’s body, unabashedly drinking in every inch of his existence.

“Don’t look at me like that or I won’t be able to leave.”

“Then don’t?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Now who’s the needy one?”

“I’m not needy.” he muttered childishly.

“Sure you’re not.”

He pulled his shirt over his head, Blaine watching in amusement as it came on backwards and him trying to turn it around back right again without having to take it off. After pulling his jeans back on, and after kissing the other boy for more than a few seconds again, he was out the door, leaving a naked Blaine in the ruffled bed. He was sweaty and gross again, and maybe he should take a shower again, but nah, never mind. He was alone so it didn’t really matter that much.

So instead he just put his clothes back on, having to take a new shirt again since the last one was somewhere on the floor downstairs, and wandered through the house, having no idea what to do with the rest of the day. He’d already done all his homework, all subjects being ridiculously easy at McKinley, and he’d eaten and showered and it was just about six in the afternoon. So he couldn’t go to bed yet for a couple of hours.

Of some reason he ended up in his mother’s room.

Stupid. Stupid Blaine for going in here now.

The room reeked with cigarette smoke. Dirty clothes, thousands of emptied pill jars and even a few empty bottles that Blaine guessed had once been filled with some sort of alcohol, were spread all over the dirty floor. His heart stung as he saw the nightgown tossed over the old, black piano on the other side of the little dark room.

It had always been his mother dearest possession since he didn’t know how long. But of course that had changed along with everything else. Now the monster of an instrument was just another piece of furniture, it seemed.

It made Blaine almost a little sad, to be honest.

Some of his happiest memories evolved around that piano. And to see it like that, it just sort of rubbed the whole situation in his face even more than the pill jars and damaged room, or even the holes in the walls that were his mother’s most common ‘victims’ during her almost daily rages.

Without really thinking about it, Blaine walked over the room and ghosted his right hand over the black furniture, wiping away tons of dust at the movement, and before he knew it he sat on the little soft stool in front of it, tracing his fingers over the smooth ivory keys, but without pressing them down to make any sound.

He couldn’t play. Not anymore. Not when everything was like this.

Blaine hadn’t played the piano for soon to be five years, so he wasn’t ever sure he remembered how to do it anymore. People said that playing the piano was like learning to ride a bicycle; that once you really learned how, you’d never forget it. But he didn’t really believe that. Because as much as he tried, he couldn’t remember which keys to press down in which order to make a specific melody, all he remembered was that he once knew how. Once he was actually really good. Once playing was his whole life.

But then everything had gone worse that to hell and he'd sort of forgot it.