Revelation
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Revelation: Mocking Stags


E - Words: 3,561 - Last Updated: May 31, 2014
Story: Complete - Chapters: 10/? - Created: Feb 02, 2014 - Updated: Feb 02, 2014
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Mocking Stags

            It's late when he gets back and he is exhausted but buzzed from all of the applause.  Blaine expects Douglas to be asleep as usual because, for a couple of hours he was distracted enough to forget about the letter; but Douglas is not asleep – he is very awake and very agitated.  His heart drops to the floor.

            ‘What did she say?'  Blaine knows there is no point in trying to hold off the conversation – they may as well talk about it now.  It's not like either of them could sleep with it hanging over their heads like a guillotine blade anyway.

            ‘How do you feel, Blaine?'

            ‘About what?  I don't know what she said.'  He makes his way to the counter and starts to make coffee – not that he needs it to keep awake – no; there are a thousand bees in his mind right now each buzzing with electricity in his hive-mind – he just needs to do something with his hands.

            ‘This is not a game.'

            ‘I'm not saying it is.'

            ‘Would you just look at me?  Please?'

He turns slowly at Douglas' request and forces himself to make eye contact.  Douglas looks exhausted and Blaine wonders how long he has been standing there with that letter waiting for Blaine to get back.

            ‘Sorry.' 

            ‘Don't apologise – just talk to me.'

            ‘I…I don't know.  What does she want?'

            ‘She wants to know why she has not received an announcement.'

            ‘Did she give a timescale?'

            ‘Not explicitly.'

            ‘Alright – then we have some time.'

            ‘Blaine -'

            ‘We have time to –‘

            ‘Time to what?' 

Blaine freezes – his limbs feel unresponsive, but he manages to blink. 

            ‘I'm sorry, Blaine.  I just…she gets to me.'

            ‘I know.  I brought this on.  Tell me what she said and we'll work it out?'  Blaine manages to get his limbs to coordinate enough to make his way to Douglas' side.  He gently splays his fingers over one bicep – touch has always been a comfort to him.

Douglas does not even need to look at the letter.

            ‘She wishes us both well and asks after our health.  She wants to know when I intend on making a formal announcement and reminds me that, not only is she thrilled that I am finally settling down, but that she expected as much when I put you before family, as she hears you have since done also.  She writes that she looks forward to seeing us again and invites us to Southampton for dinner on the 28th to talk over the details.'

            ‘Oh.'

            ‘Yeah.'

Blaine manages to prise the paper from Douglas' hand and puts it on the breakfast bar before taking Douglas' hand.    

            ‘It's going to be alright.'  His voice sounds surer than he feels.

 

-+-

 

            ‘It's not going to be alright.'

            ‘Blaine, calm down.'

            ‘You know that doesn't help, right?' 

Sebastian frowns slightly; his mind running in circles trying to make sense of what his friend was telling him.  He buys time to let Blaine breathe by bending to pick up another box.

            ‘What am I going to do, Bas?'

            ‘What do you want to do?'

            ‘I…I don't know.'

He sighs and turns back to face his distraught friend.

            ‘Do you love him, Blaine?'

            ‘Yes.'

            ‘Do you see yourself with him in a year?'

            ‘Yes.'

            ‘Five years?'

            ‘I think so.'

            ‘Ten years?'

            ‘Who knows anything about that far ahead?'

            ‘This is serious – you have to be sure.'

            ‘I don't need you to tell me how serious this is!'  Blaine seems genuinely shocked at the volume of his own voice and closes his eyes before dropping onto the recently assembled bed.  ‘I'm sorry, Bas.  I just – this is probably the biggest decision I will even make in my life, and I don't know what I'm doing.'

            ‘I know.'  Sebastian sits beside his friend.  He is not certain where to put his hands so he settles with Blaine's shoulder.  ‘What does Douglas think?'

            ‘He thinks I'm too young to know what I want and that we've not been together anywhere near long enough to make this kind of commitment to each other.  Which, on the one hand – I completely agree, but on the other is kind of insulting.'

            ‘Why's his mom so keen on the idea?'

            ‘Uh…that's my fault.  I kind of reacted badly when everyone kept telling me how bad it looked – especially with the age difference thing, and when combined with the knowledge that Douglas was giving up everything for me, I thought – you know what's right here, Blaine.  You can do something right for once.  So I called her – and we talked.  I pointed out a couple of things that maybe she hadn't considered from a business relations perspective –‘

            ‘You played the world is changing card!'

            ‘Yes.  But, I also found out that the wording of the clause in the inheritance is not specific to the heir marrying a woman.'

            ‘We'll make a lawyer out of you yet.'

            ‘But she may have got it into her head that, because of shared concerns about Douglas' image on a corporate perspective, as well as social –‘

            ‘The age thing.'

            ‘The age thing, yes.  That a marriage would put some of that to rest, as well as provide some positive (hopefully) publicity...'

            ‘Ah.'

            ‘Yeah.'

            ‘And she meant soon and you did not necessarily mean you.'

            ‘Yeah.'

            ‘Oh.'

            ‘Yeah.'

            ‘But he asked you?'

            ‘We talked about it and he said that we both needed to think properly about this, but, yes – he asked me.'

            ‘And you said…'

            ‘That I agreed that we needed to give each other some time.'

            ‘Shit.'

            ‘Yeah.'

They sit in silence, surrounded by boxes in his tiny two-bed apartment, and for once Sebastian has no words.  He cannot imagine what he would do, were the situations reversed.

            ‘Bas – what do I do?'

            ‘I have no idea.  When do you need to decide by?'

            ‘The 28th, I guess – she's invited us to theirs for dinner.'

            ‘That's in two weeks.'

            ‘Yep.'

            ‘Shit.'

            ‘I really love him, Bas.  He's been there for me – when things were really bad, but I don't know if I'm ready for this.  I mean…I thought I was, but I just feel so…guilty.  You know?'

            ‘What have you got to be guilty about?'

            ‘I just…he could do so much better and –‘

            ‘Whoa.  Stop.  No, no, no.  Douglas doesn't think that so stop that.'

            ‘He's all I have and I'm…terrified.'

            ‘I know it feels like that, Blaine – but you're not alone, OK.  You've got me.  I'm here too.'

            ‘Thanks, Bas.'

            ‘Right, know what I think you need?'

Blaine shakes his head and Sebastian tries to hide his concern with his brightest smile.

            ‘I'm calling the guys – they're here for my housewarming tonight anyway and we're taking you out.'

 

-+-

 

            Santana disappeared hours ago with Dani and left Kurt to babysit Rachel who, is not only completely wasted (he has no idea how because they were clearly stamped as underage, but he strongly suspects Santana had something to do with it), but dancing flirtatiously with three other women after spending the last twenty minutes waxing lyrical about how fun gay bars were.  Kurt keeps an eye on her from his position, standing at one of the tall silver tables, guarding their drinks.  Considering he was only out with them at the girls' insistence –

            ‘You're never going to meet anyone new at this rate, Kurt.'

            ‘Come on – blow off some steam, it'll be fun.  What's the worst that could happen?  You may actually find a man to bang your hobbit obsession right out of you.'

- he does not find it hugely amusing that so far neither of his friends has spent much time with him at all.

Happy that Rachel is safe enough where she is for the time being, he casually scans the sea of people.  He had actually thought that this, unlike Rachel's last attempt to go a little wild, would be a good idea so he had dressed to the nines, and he would be damned if all that effort was going to go to waste.  It was not as if he had not been asked to dance – he had numerous times, but none of them were…right.  He took a sip of his virgin amaretto sour and let himself relax a little to the throb of the music pulsing through his limbs.  He clicks his tongue stud against his teeth in threes as his eyes flit over the crowded bodies and feels colour rush to his cheeks when a ridiculously tall and attractive guy winks at him before heading over.  A small flush of disappointment creeps in when he notices what the other man is wearing – a wide collared shirt?  Really?  This is not the 70s.

            ‘Hi.'

The other man's voice is a lot deeper than Kurt had anticipated and does not quite match his face, but Kurt manages to reply without sounding shocked.

            ‘Hi.'

            ‘I'm Neil.'

            ‘Kurt.  Nice to meet you.'

He has to shout to be heard over the music.  He barely hears Neil's next sentence and is not thrilled when he crowds closer to talk into Kurt's ear. 

            ‘Dance with me.'

It is not a question and, regardless of how attractive Neil may be, it rankles Kurt.

            ‘No thanks.'

            ‘Come on.'

Kurt rolls his eyes, frustration rapidly building as he shakes his head and turns from the other man, hopefully indicating his disinterest.

            ‘Your loss.'

He finds he can breathe easier once the other man leaves with no hassle and takes another sip of his drink, his mood rapidly deteriorating.  He goes to take another swig then realises he had finished so takes a glance at his wrist watch – he is half way over to Rachel, ready to drag her home, when he feels him.  Kurt spins, eyes wild, scanning faces at a pace even he is impressed by – nothing.  He clicks his stud against his teeth

            One

            Two

            Three

in an attempt to regain control over his emotions.  That was the whole point of coming out tonight, was it not?  He wanted to prove that he was not “hung up” on anyone.

            Then why can't you say his name?

            ‘Blaine!'

The voice is unfamiliar but Kurt has spun to face the direction of the shout before he had had time to fully register it. 

He cannot place it and cannot pick the voice out above the noise of the crowd.

            One

            Two

            Three

His mind wobbles and he wonders whether he should have accepted those drinks from Santana at all as he refocuses on making his way over to Rachel.

            One

            Two

            Three

A hand on his arm stops his heart and for a moment he is utterly paralysed because if it is…

It is not though.

The blonde man before him is a little shorter than him but slim, and utterly stunning, and Kurt finds himself fascinated by the green of his eyes because he is not entirely certain he can name the shade.  Kurt's eyes flicker down pointedly to the place on his arm where the other man's hand rests, but the blonde seems unperturbed.  Kurt raises an eyebrow.

            What is it with the guys here?

            ‘I can't help but noticed you finished your drink.'

His voice is rich like expertly roasted coffee, with an accent that sets him apart from the regular New York crowd and it makes Kurt curious to know more.  He nods slightly, but instead of more information he finds himself being towed to the bar.  The blonde positively stalks and Kurt takes the opportunity to check the guy out unnoticed.  He is dressed well for the bar in a tailored black shirt with green contrast stitching, and tight leather trousers.  Black Chelsea boots and a green belt finish the look and Kurt can appreciate the balls it takes to wear, and pull off, leather trousers to a nightclub.  His companion leans his arms on the bar, blocking Kurt's view – but he cannot complain. 

            ‘Amaretto sour, right?'

            ‘Uh…yeah.  Thanks.'  Kurt takes a sip and raises an eyebrow when he can taste the alcohol.  He's about to say something when the blonde gives him a filthy look and Kurt decides to go with it, hoping his shirt sleeves will hide his underage stamp.

            One

            Two

            Three

            ‘So, what's your name?'

            ‘Kurt.'

            ‘You're not from around here.'

It is a statement, not a question, so Kurt, petulantly refuses to answer.  The blonde moves in closer. 

            ‘I'm right, aren't I?'

He smells like sandalwood and seawater.

            One

            Two

            Three

            ‘You here by yourself?'

            ‘No – I'm here with friends.'

            ‘Where are they?'

Kurt shrugs, tensing as he realises that Rachel is no longer where he left her dancing.  An icy finger traces his spine and his heart rate revs.

            Onetwothree

            Onetwothree

            Onetwo-

            ‘I'm sure they're fine.'

            ‘I should go look for them – nice to meet you.  Thanks for the drink!'

He has no idea whether the blonde said anything in response as he makes his way back out against the tide.  The music vibrates the floor as he walks, searching.

            Onetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeone

 

-+-

 

            ‘His eyes are so blue.  But there's yellow in them too – like a blue sunset.'

            ‘OK, I think you've had enough.'  Sebastian attempts to prise the whiskey glass from his friend's fingers but to no avail.

Blaine, oblivious, gestures with his hand as Sebastian makes a grab and notices the colour.

            ‘My eyes are like whiskey.  Imagine if you could only drink liquids the same colour as your eyes.'

            ‘Then Bas and I'd be screwed.'  Hunter sways a little then raises an eyebrow when a couple of guys gesture for him to come over before shaking his head and shouting ‘I'm not gay!'

            ‘You've both got green eyes…' 

            ‘Yep.  I think the lucky one would be Doug.'

            ‘Chocolate.'

            ‘Yep.'

Sebastian rolls his eyes at his friends' exchange and keeps an eye out for their missing member before spotting him and waiving him over.  Doug puts down a tray which, to Sebastian's frustration, contains a round of shots.

            ‘To Bas' new place and Blaine's engagement!'  Doug picks up a shot glass and holds it high in a toast.  The bright green liquid catches the light.

            ‘I didn't say yes!'  Blaine's protest falls of deaf ears and does not stop him knocking back the absinthe.  He does not even flinch and Sebastian frowns at Doug.

            ‘Absinthe!  Bas and I would get absinthe.'  Hunter looks proud of himself but Blaine looks confused and Doug looks to Sebastian for clarification.  ‘Eye drinks, Blaine!'

            ‘Yes!  I get whiskey, you get absinthe with Bas, and Doug and Douglas get molten chocolate.'  Blaine frowns and mumbles something that sounds a lot like ‘Kurt would have a blue Hawaiian.'

Hunter giggles uncontrollably.

            ‘Like our personalities, right?'  Doug laughs.

Sebastian sighs and looks around for the attractive friend Blaine had brought with them – Charlie was the one who had gotten them into the club without hand stamps after taking one look at Sebastian's fake ID and laughing.  He had hated him instantly, but the blonde had split pretty quickly after they had gotten in and Sebastian was more than a little annoyed.

            ‘I'm going to dance!' 

Blaine is gone before he had noticed him start to move and Sebastian groans.

            ‘One of us should stay with him!'

            ‘What?'  Doug looks confused and Sebastian mentally curses himself for thinking that this would be a great idea.  He feels twitchy – like something bad was going to happen.

He steps past Doug and tries to follow Blaine into the swell of dancing bodies.  Doug catches Sebastian's intention and puts a hand on his chest.

            ‘Chill out.  Enjoy yourself!  I'll keep an eye on him.' 

Sebastian nods lightly and heads back to keep an eye on Hunter who, once again, appears to be being propositioned.  The last thing Sebastian wants is for Hunter to start a fight so he heads back over and sweet talks the men into leaving before hopping onto a ridiculously tall barstool beside his friend.  He thinks he catches Doug's shout of “Blaine!” over the din but he cannot be certain.  His fingers trace the rim of his shot of absinthe idly as he watches.

            Fuck it.

He downs the shot and Hunter grins.

 

-+-

 

            He had gone to Charlie's after leaving Sebastian to finish unpacking – predominantly to get another opinion.  Charlie had been unhelpful to say the least so Blaine had dropped the subject and, desperate for something else to talk about, had invited the blonde to join him that evening.  Charlie had spent the rest of the afternoon giving him an impromptu makeover complete with eyeliner and had insisted on doing Blaine's hair for him with mousse instead of gel.  Blaine had been uncertain about the result but Charlie had been insistent that Blaine looked like a rock star and, by the time Blaine had convinced himself to change again he had had no time because he had realised they were already late to meet the boys.  Self-conscious, he had given Charlie the low-down on each of his friends before they had met at Sebastian's, but any hint of worry he had had (that had magnified when Hunter and Doug had laughed at him) vanished when every eye in the club had raked him over when he entered. 

The drink had probably helped but he had actually been having a really good time before Sebastian had dragged him back to the table.  He had been unable to stop his feet tapping to the beat of the music and so, as soon as he had seen an opportunity, he had managed to escape back onto the dance floor, ignoring Doug's call.  He had not realised how much he had needed this – the opportunity to let go and be young and free for an evening. 

He found himself in a crush of bodies – three men were dancing in a tight circle, facing him, and he discovered he really liked their attention.  It made him feel sexy, and powerful.  The dancing got dirty and Blaine felt wired – one of the guys pulled Blaine backwards so that his ass was grinding against the other guy's crotch.  Blaine had grinned wolfishly and winked at the floppy-fringed guy who had been dancing face-to-face with him, before spinning to face his new dance partner.  The forward guy had his hair gelled into tall spikes and wore rainbow glitter on his collarbones and cheeks – Blaine found he wanted to lick it to see whether it tasted like Skittles, but was pulled in another direction by another guy before he had the chance.  This one was beefy and utterly not Blaine's type so he threw him a look and tried to turn to find Skittles again.  A hand on his arm stopped his movement and he glared at Beefy.

            ‘Excuse me.'  Blaine tried to pull away but Beefy hung on and for a terrible moment Blaine had a vision of a bottle being smashed against a skull.  He felt sick.  He struggled against Beefy's grip, eyes a little panicked trying to search out Skittles, or one of his friends for help.  Beefy pulled him around and held him tightly against himself.

            ‘With anyone, pretty boy?'

            ‘Yes.  Let me go!'

            ‘I don't see anyone.'  Beefy's breath was stale beer and cigarettes and Blaine struggled to keep down a second wave of nausea.

            ‘He said to let him go.'  The voice could not have been real – it had to be an hallucination brought on by the green fairy.

But Beefy had turned and laughed. 

            ‘Listen close you oversized ham hock - my friend here is with me.  Go and find someone else to maul with your sweaty paws.'

            ‘Or what, fairy?'

            ‘Just go get yourself another gallon of beer.  This one is not worth your trouble.'  Blaine caught a glimpse of chestnut hair as his rescuer slid a twenty into Beefy's top pocket.  He wished he could see their expressions so he could gauge the situation but suddenly Beefy's grip on him was gone and he was left stumbling into lean arms.

            ‘Hi, you.'

            ‘Hi, yourself.'

 

           


 


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