Announcements

            ‘Don't you dare raise your voice like that to me, young man!'

            ‘You aren't even listening!  I'm not doing anything illegal or wrong I'm just moving in with my boyfriend when I graduate!'

            ‘Boyfriend!  Boyfriend!'

            ‘Why does everyone keep fixating on age?'

            ‘Because you are a nineteen year old highschooler who is being groomed by a wayward degenerate!'

            ‘You don't even know him!'

            ‘Because he wasn't around, Blaine!  Try to see it from our perspective for a moment – he disappears from his own family for years, then reappears only to lay eyes on an attractive young man then suddenly decides -'

            ‘You're 18 years older than mom!  I don't see a difference!  No one's ever accused you of grooming her!  If you were having this discussion with Coop – if he were moving in with an older woman – you'd be congratulating him.'

            ‘Choose your next words very carefully, Blaine.  This is not about your sexuality.'

            ‘Roger knows.  Roger's known for months.'

            ‘I'm going to give you some home truths, my boy, and if you don't listen I can guarantee you'll regret it.'

            ‘I already regret having this conversation.'

            ‘Blaine!'  It was the first and last word his mother said – a mouse squeak in a cathedral.

            ‘Let me tell you this, Blaine – you think that because a select number of open-minded individuals are supportive that the rest of the world will be too.  But they won't be.  Not even in wonderfully accepting New York.  People won't see two men in love – they will see a young man and his father, or uncle.  They'll see an older man with his toy boy.  They'll see what they want to see, and they'll talk.  People will talk and rumours will start and I'll be damned if I let that happen to you, Blaine.  What happens when Douglas finds someone younger?  Hm?'

            ‘He's not like that?'

            ‘How you know?  What happens when Douglas' parents cut him out of the will and he loses everything?  Do you really think he'll let it go that far for you, Blaine?  Should he?  Say he does – say he does love you the way you say he does – and he loses everything.  What then?  What happens when, and it could be years away, what happens when he gets bitter?'

            ‘It's not like that!'

            ‘Blaine – you're a teenager!  You don't know what people can be like.'

            ‘You sound just like Cooper!'

            ‘I'm glad he's learnt some sense!'

            ‘You can say what you like – after graduation I'm moving in with Douglas!'

            ‘You would ruin his life?  Ruin your own life?  Ruin the reputation of this family?'

            ‘Why can't you see that I'm happy?'

            ‘Because you only think you are!'

            ‘I know my own feelings!'

            ‘What makes you so certain this time, Blaine?  We supported you when you came out, we supported you when you were bullied – we got you into Dalton – and we supported you when you said you wanted to transfer because you wanted to be with Kurt.  We supported you when you wanted to move back to Dalton, Blaine, because we thought you'd learnt.  Have you even told Kurt about this plan of yours?  What does he think?  We just want what is best for you, Blaine.'

            ‘And what is that, exactly?'

            ‘Go to college in New York, live in halls there – we're not stopping you.  Just don't move in with a man you hardly know!'

            ‘You really haven't heard a word I've said have you?'

He leaves the room.

            ‘Don't you dare walk away from me when I am talking to you!'

He keeps walking.

            ‘Blaine Devon Anderson – if you walk out that door don't even think about coming back!'

He keeps walking as the echo chases him into the darkness.

            Back!  Ack!  Ack!

-+-

            It's the same nightmare every night and he idly wonders if it will ever dissipate.  The words flap around his head on jet wings, circling like crows, and he closes his eyes in an attempt to chase away the last of the echoing caws.  He is not even certain if that was how his last conversation with his family went anymore – how much is fabrication due to his overactive imagination coupled with a flair for the dramatic he would probably never know.  He yawned and rolled onto his side to find Douglas' pillow cold and empty.  He stretches, cat-like, and then reaches for his phone only to remember that he had turned it off days ago.  He considers turning it on – but his parents have probably had it disconnected by now – before he is distracted by the shrill call of the telephone. 

            ‘Hello?'

            ‘Mr. Anderson?'

            ‘Speaking.'

            ‘Mrs. Chambers would like you to know that she accepts your proposition based on the conditions she outlined during your last conversation.  She looks forward to the invite.  Good day, sir.'

            ‘Thank yo-.'  The line goes dead before he can finish and his jaw snaps shut.  ‘So – this is it.'  He takes a breath and lets it out in a long stream.  ‘You can do this, Blaine.  Prove them all wrong.'

-+-

            The coffee shop is mostly empty so he has his pick of seats.  He settles down in a corner, out of the view of the windows – he does not much feel like being on display today.  Sebastian idly looks around, and seeing no one he recognises, relaxes a little as he stirs his coffee.  The vibrations against his thigh demand his attention and he slides his phone out of his uniform trouser pocket.  He does not recognise the number but he answers anyway.

            ‘Bas.'

            ‘Blaine!  How are you?  You've had us all worried sick!'

            ‘I'm fine, I'm fine.  I thought Doug told you – I'm at Douglas'.'

            ‘I know.  But that doesn't mean you're OK.'

            ‘I'm…  I'm alright.'

            ‘Blaine – you can't bullshit me.'

            ‘I'm not.  I'm alright.'

            ‘Your family abandoned you!'

            ‘We had a disagreement and it turns out that they had a different view on how I should live my life than I do.'

            ‘You make it sound so…clinical.'

            ‘In a way it is – someday soon I expect a thick, faceless, manila envelope to come in the post asking me to sign to say I am formally independent of my family.  That's all there is to say.  Anyway, how are you?'

            ‘Don't “anyway, how are you” me.'

            ‘I'm sorry I scared you.  I didn't mean to upset anybody.'

            ‘You never do, do you?'

            ‘Hm.'

            ‘So… you coming tomorrow or do I have to do all the dirty work?'

            ‘No – I'll be there.'

            ‘Good.'

            ‘Good.'

            ‘Need somewhere to stay while you're here?'

            ‘No…uh…Douglas' coming with so we'll probably stay in a hotel or something.'

            ‘Oh.  OK.'

            ‘Bas…'

            ‘Yeah?'

He hears Blaine pause on the end of the line.  He can hear his friend's ragged breathing and Sebastian frowns in response.

            ‘What's up?  You can talk to me about anything, you know.  I'm not going to fly off the handle at you.  I promise.'

            ‘I know, Bas.  Thank you.  It's just…  I'm scared.'

            ‘Why?'

            ‘I think I have a way to make everything better, and I guess I just…  It's big – huge actually, and I wanted… I would like some reassurance?'

            ‘God, you're being a white knight again, aren't you?  For the love of all that is holy, Blaine, please tell me it does not involve serenading anyone.'

The squeaky laugh crackling down the line makes Sebastian laugh in response but it his smile fades quickly when Blaine does not try to elaborate past a perfunctory response in the negative to Sebastian's jibe.

            ‘Blaine?  You do know that it isn't up to you to fix everything all the time, right?'

            ‘Hm.'

            ‘Come on – what is it?'

Sebastian thinks he can hear a muffled click and strains to listen when he hears a man's voice call out.

            ‘Sorry, Bas – I have to go.  I'll… see you tomorrow.'

            ‘Sure.  Bye, Blaine.'

            ‘Thanks, Bas.'

He idly taps the edge of his phone against the table as his mind whirrs before deciding to save the number, figuring it is Douglas'.  His coffee is a good temperature when he goes to finally drink it, and he sends a quick prayer to the coffee gods for not letting it go completely cold, before tacking on a prayer for his friend – maybe the coffee gods will listen.

-+-

            Seeing his friends is harder than it should have been – they are all lined up and excitable in their gowns and caps and Blaine feels more than a little overwhelmed by the muchness of everything – the music, the hugs, the sympathetic looks…  He struggles to maintain his smiling, glossy front until he feels Sebastian's eyes on him and for the first time in his life he wishes his surname did not begin with ‘A'.  He sees Hunter and Doug standing close to each other with the other ‘C's and sends them a quick salute hello – Hunter raises an eyebrow before sending a return salute in an overly serious manner that makes Blaine feel like a sea captain about to go down with the ship – and Doug simply smiles sadly.  He hears his name called and makes his way out and onto the stage, purposefully ignoring the seats where his parents will be absent in the crowd of proud family and friends of the rest of the graduating student body. 

            Except for Douglas.  And Roger.

He manages not to trip on the edge of his gown, shakes the correct hand of the guest speaker, and makes his way to his designated seat ready to wait out the ceremony.  The rest of his peers trickle across the stage like water, filling the rows of seats beside him with an ever growing rushing of rustling fabric, paper, and voices.  He has to hold back a laugh at the pomp and circumstance behind the Dalton ceremony - suddenly yearning for the celebratory fun atmosphere of the previous years' graduation at McKinley. 

Eventually he is called up to speak as valedictorian and he makes it through the speech – people laugh in all the right places, and he swears he sees tears in at least a couple of eyes – but he forces himself not to think about how proud Cooper would have been at that.  He closes the ceremony by inviting the graduating Warblers to the stage to join the younger members in singing a final song together, and it does feel final.

-+-

            He is making his final goodbyes to the majority of his friends – he's not naïve – he's seen what happens with time, so he does not expect the hand on his shoulder to be Burt's.  The crushing hug forces the air from his lungs so he does not cry out in surprise, only takes a small stumble backwards once released and tries to remember how to breathe.  His eyes dart quickly because if Burt is there that may mean that…

            ‘He's not with me.'

            ‘Oh.'

            ‘Your speech was great up there.'

            ‘Thank you, sir-‘  He catches the older man's raised eyebrow – so like Kurt's and quickly recovers.  ‘Burt.'

            ‘Hope you didn't mind me coming along – I just – well, you're family to me, kid, and you've got to keep family close.'

            ‘It means a lot.  Thank you.'

            ‘Good.  Well – um…I suppose I should be headin' back.  I wouldn't want to keep you from a meal with your folk-…uh…I mean…'

            ‘It's fine, Burt.  Thanks.'

            ‘If you ever need anything – you call.'

            ‘I will.  I'm fine, really.'

            ‘Alright.  Well – good to see you.'

            ‘Good to see you too, Burt.  Thank you for coming.'

They have a moment where neither seems to know whether to shake hands or to hug, but they both, wordlessly, settle on the latter and Blaine inhales the rich scent of motor oil that will always remind him of chestnut hair, blue eyes and the promise of summer.

Overwhelmed, he takes a step back.

            ‘Take care of yourself, Blaine.'

            ‘You too, Burt.'

-+-

            ‘Blaine – please think about what you are saying.'

It was not supposed to go like this – this was an utter disaster.

            ‘I have thought about it.'

            ‘Darling, I know you feel like it is your fault, but this really isn't.'

            ‘So everyone keeps telling me, but, Douglas – please hear me out, OK?'

Swirling chocolate pools finally focus on Blaine's own eyes and Blaine waits until Douglas seems calm enough to listen.

            ‘As I was saying – they were right.  I've thought a lot about this and they were all right.  People aren't going to understand.  They are going to talk and assume and it will-‘  He raises an eyebrow when Douglas begins to interject.  ‘It will affect us.  Think about it objectively for a moment.'

            ‘What do you think I have been doing for the last few months?'

            ‘Exactly.  Look – I spoke to your mother –‘

            ‘Blaine –‘

            ‘I spoke to Julia, and we came to an agreement that should work for everyone – people outside will be satisfied and your reputation will remain as tarnish-free as ever.'

            ‘Hm.  You talk about everyone else – what about you?  You're all I care about.'

            ‘And you I, but we have to be realistic here.'

Douglas bows his head then looks up again as if resigning himself to listen to his own order of execution.

            ‘Come on.  It's a good thing.  For both of us.  At least – I hope it is.'

Blaine kneels on the floor between Douglas' legs where he is sat on the couch and takes his partner's hands in what he hopes is a soothing and reassuring gesture.

            ‘Your mother will support us and she won't let your father write you out.'

            ‘What's the condition, Blaine?'

            ‘You make it sound so cold.'

            ‘What did you trade?'

            ‘I simply pointed out that the business would benefit from looking progressive, morally speaking – the world is changing, and old fashioned values don't cut it anymore.  I simply proposed that cutting you out for being who you are would look barbaric to the modern marketplace.'

            ‘And she agreed?'  Douglas looks far from convinced, if a little impressed, and Blaine takes the opportunity to kiss the hand he holds.

            ‘She agreed.'

            ‘Where's the catch?'

            ‘OK.  Well – she, like everyone, is apparently concerned about our relationship.'

            ‘Appearances are everything to some people.'

            ‘Exactly.'

            ‘Blaine?'

            ‘She told me about the clause – the marriage clause.'

            ‘Yes – even she can't talk father around that one.'

            ‘Well, apparently she doesn't have to.'

Douglas raises an eyebrow and Blaine knows that he has to word this perfectly.

            ‘It doesn't say woman.  It's assumed, but it doesn't say it explicitly.'  He pauses to take a breath and holds Douglas' hand tighter in his own.  ‘I can't stand to watch you lose your family like I did.  You've lost them once before and you're only just getting them back.  So, marry me, Douglas.  It doesn't have to be right now – but at some point in the future.  Marry me and the rumours go away, and they can't cut you out-‘

            ‘Blaine, darling, you can't hear yourself, can you?'

            ‘I'm being serious.'

            ‘I know you are.  I know.  But this is not the answer.'

It feels like a sledge hammer.

            First Cooper, then his parents, now Douglas.  No.

            ‘I know exactly what I'm asking.  I am asking you to marry me.  I love you.'

            ‘I love you too.'

            ‘Then marry me.'

            ‘Blaine, I – we need to think this through rationally -‘

Douglas drops from the sofa to the floor in front of Blaine and tries to take Blaine's hands, but the younger pulls away.

            ‘What's there to think through?  You either want to marry me or you don't?  They're right – this looks bad to everyone on the outside.  I watched their faces during dinner at Breadstix with Roger's family – everyone was looking at us!  They all assume I'm some naïve school kid being seduced by an old man -'

            ‘Blaine – marrying you won't solve that.'

            ‘I know.  But it will stop your father taking everything away from you and it will stop some of them…'

            ‘Oh, sweetheart, I appreciate the concern – and –‘

            ‘Don't.'  He stands too quickly and the blood rushes from his head causing him to stumble.

            ‘Blaine – don't leave.  Talk to me.'

            ‘I need some fresh air.'

            ‘Blaine, please -'

            ‘I don't know what I was thinking!  Obviously, I'm mentally impaired in some way – I keep making terrible decisions for people I love!'

He hears Douglas scramble to his feet and make to follow him, but he's running now.  The elevator is waiting and he feels the doors swoosh closed behind him.  His head is pounding and he forces himself not to throw up in the pristine elevator.   Lilies crowd him - pushing at his senses, drowning him in floral hell, until he is released into the foyer.  Attempting to hold together some shred of dignity he manages to walk with the appearance of serenity through to the doors.  Markus holds them open for him, and Blaine manages to throw him a quick thank you smile before hailing the first yellow cab he spots. 

            ‘Where to?'

But he does not know.  He has not thought that far ahead and now the cab driver is looking at him like he is some deranged reprobate on the wrong side of the river, and Douglas could come chasing after him at any moment, and he feels like he cannot breathe.  He needs to be somewhere he can breathe.  He needs air.

-+-

            It is late when Kurt gets in from his shift at the diner – his feet are aching and his back feels like it is entirely composed of knots.  He runs a hand through his hair and groans when he makes contact with grease, strips as quickly as he can manage without falling over or smelling his foody clothes, and makes for the shower.  The hot water does little to ease the tightness in his muscles and the banging pipes feel louder than normal leaving him feeling more unsettled than relaxed.  He clicks his tongue stud against his teeth three times before he switches the water off waiting for the familiar clunk bang bank of the pipes before stepping out onto the bathmat.  Steam seeps under the door indicating that the front door had opened and Kurt frowns slightly because the girls are not due back for another couple of hours having picked up the late shift this week.  He wraps a towel around himself and, clicking his stud three times, opens the door. 

            ‘Anyone home?'

He almost jumps out of his skin when he sees Santana emerge from behind the divider curtain clutching something that looks suspiciously like her uniform in her hands.

            ‘Do not say a word – I wasn't here!'

            ‘Wha-?'

            ‘Not a word!'

She leaves almost as suddenly as she came, and Kurt can do no more than chalk it up to another Santana eccentricity – like her compulsion to go through everyone's belongings, or the way she is usually freakishly right when it comes down to giving advice or acting on hunches.  Shaking excess water droplets from his hair he makes his way to his own space and settles down in front of his mirror and begins his moisturising regimen.

-+-

            He physically bumps into Santana and she has him by the throat and up against the wall before he has even processed the enormity of the situation.

            ‘What are you doing here, hobbit?'

            ‘I have no idea.'

            ‘Well until you do you can take your sweet little ass back to wherever it is you call home these days because you are so painfully, painfully mistaken if you think I'm going to let you head on up there with “no idea” what you're doing.'

Blaine does not even fight her; he simply turns and walks away.  Ignoring further insults and threats – she was right – he cannot expect to show up at Kurt's like this.  What was he even thinking?

            You weren't thinking.

He takes the Latina's advice and heads to the only home he has feeling utterly spent.  

-+-

            Douglas holds him tightly and presses a kiss to his temple.

            ‘ - I'm so sorry. - '

            ‘ - I'm sorry. - '

They speak over each other and Douglas feels Blaine tense a little against him.

            ‘Our first fight.'

            ‘Can we not do that again?  Please?  I just… I can't.'  Blaine huffs a little hiccup of breath.

            ‘I know.  I'm sorry – you were right, Blaine.  I wasn't listening to you.  I'm sorry, darling.'

The admission is so heartfelt that the weight of it makes Blaine feel like he is sinking; slipping into warm satin.  Exhaustion from the past weeks' events bowls into him and he feels like he could sleep forever.  He slumps a little into Douglas' embrace and feels Douglas tighten in response.

            ‘Can we just sleep now?  Talk more in the morning?'

            ‘Of course we can.'

-+-

            They change in silence and Douglas takes in just how tired Blaine looks.  After Blaine had left he had tortured himself by going over and over their fight in his head and, looking back, he realises what Blaine was actually offering.  The enormity of it hits him and he is suddenly overwhelmingly ashamed.  Blaine found a loop hole.  A loop hole his parents agreed with.  He did it for Douglas and Douglas had treated him like a child because he was scared.  He was scared – not Blaine.  Blaine was an adult – he knew his own mind and it was not for Douglas to protect him.  He gently brushed a stray curl away from Blaine's forehead with the back of his hand before pressing a kiss to his love's temple.

            ‘Please forgive me, Blaine.'