~1~

Blaine Anderson is four and a half, a fact he will proudly tell anyone who will listen.

He hugs his mommy’s leg as they enter the room. On one side, there are lots of children his age playing with everything from Lego’s to stuffed animals. On the other, a group of mommies are sitting around and talking. Blaine doesn’t understand why mommies and daddies love to talk so much and not play. It’s so boring. But he supposes that those sorts of things aren’t boring when you’re all grown up.

Blaine wonders if grown ups find the games he likes to play boring.

He is interrupted by mommy pushing on his back and pulling his thumb out of his mouth.

“Blaine, don’t suck your thumb. Now go play.” And with that she walks away to the mommy table.

Blaine scans the room. There are a lot of kids.

He steps forward tentatively, looking for someone who will let him play with them. They all seem to be busy playing their own games and Blaine doesn’t want to interrupt any of them.

He wishes he could sit with his mommy, but she told him last time that she needs alone time with other grown-ups so Blaine doesn’t do that.

As his gaze moves from group to group, hoping someone will catch his eye and invite him over, he spies a boy sitting all alone in the far corner of the room.

The boy is dressed very strangely. He is wearing the kind of clothes his daddy wears to work. It reminds him of the clothes his mommy made him wear for his great aunt Josephine’s funeral except the jacket is a different color and his tie is a funny shape.

Blaine wonders if maybe this boy is going to a funeral after, or maybe just coming from one. Maybe that’s why he is playing alone. He thinks maybe he should leave the boy alone but something pulls him there anyway.

He worries that he’s being rude.

He always worries about being rude because his parents are always telling him to have better manners and they always get mad at him when he does something they don’t like. They say his behavior reflects back on them and when his behavior is bad it reflects badly on them. He doesn’t really know what that means, only that he has to try harder to be a good son.

As he comes closer, he sees that the boy is surrounded by power rangers. Blaine likes the power rangers. He decides to tell that to the boy.

“I like the power rangers.”

The boy looks up and Blaine thinks he had the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen. The boy doesn’t say anything, he just looks at Blaine.

“I watch them every Saturday morning.”

The boy still doesn’t say anything. Blaine realizes with horror that he’s being rude again with out meaning to and he bites his bottom lip, trying to remember the manners his parents have taught him.

“My name is Blaine Anderson. It’s nice to meet you.”

He holds out his hand the way his parents taught him. The boy looks at it and then back at Blaine. Blaine’s hand starts to shake. What if he was too rude? What if this boy tells his mommy?

But before he can worry any further, the boy stands up, brushing his hands over his pant legs to un-wrinkle them and takes Blaine’s outstretched hand.

He smiles and Blaine’s heart does a funny jump inside his chest.

“It’s very nice to meet you Blaine. My name is Kurt. Kurt Hummel.

…

Kurt, it turns out, is holding a power ranger wedding. Zordon is officiating and Kurt asks Blaine who his favorite power ranger is.

“Jason because he’s a good leader and he’s really nice. Also, red is my favorite colour.”

“Okay, then you can have Jason.” Kurt hands the red figurine to Blaine and picks up the black one, “And I’ll be Zack.”

Blaine frowns.

“Wait, Jason and Zack are getting married?”

Kurt looks at him.

“Yes.”

“But they’re both boy power rangers.”

Kurt sits up and cocks an eyebrow one hand on his hip, the other clutching the black power ranger.

“So?”

Blaine is confused. He thought boys could only marry girls, but now that he thinks about it, if he had to marry someone, he would much rather it be this boy with his neatly combed hair and pretty blue eyes than any girl.

So Blaine shrugs and says, “Okay.”

Blaine spends the next hour playing Power Ranger wedding with Kurt (Kimberly saves the day when Rita Repulsa tries to ruin it by changing the catering menu and holding the florist hostage).

On the way home Blaine tells his mommy about his new friend Kurt and the power rangers and the wedding and how he thinks that Kurt is better than all the girls he’s ever met put together and how he thinks it’s silly that boys can’t marry other boys.

The next week, his mother takes him to a different playgroup. Blaine asks her why they can’t go back to the other playgroup and his mommy tells him that this one is better. That this one doesn’t just let anyone in. Blaine tells her he wants to go back to the other playgroup and just about starts to cry when his mother spanks him and tells him not to talk back to her.

~2~

Blaine is eight and he is in the car with his mom driving back to Westerville after visiting some of her friends in Marysville when traffic on the highway slows and Blaine can see lots of flashing blue and red lights in the distance.

As they move closer to the accident site, Blaine sits up straighter to get a better look. There are two cars. One is a pickup truck, the metal of the front and hood crushed from the impact of hitting the second car, a small sedan sandwiched between the pick-up and the concrete meridian.

A man in overalls and heavy work boots is talking to a police officer and more policemen and paramedics are scattered around the scene, two of them are standing over a black body bag, which is being zipped closed.

As they pass the ambulances, Blaine sees someone sitting in the back of one being attended to by another paramedic. He’s a boy, probably Blaine’s age and he doesn’t seem to be aware of his surroundings. His eyes are unfocused and red. Tears are drying on his cheeks.

Blaine feels his heart break as they pass the scene. He can’t get the memory of the boy’s face out of his mind for the rest of the ride home.

~3~

Blaine is sixteen and how he ended up sitting in the freezing cold in Lima of all places he’s not entirely sure. He supposes it has something to do with wanting to hang onto the last vestiges of his reputation he has left after coming out his friends and consequently his entire school at he beginning of the school year.

Either way, he is currently sandwiched between Jason, a boy he’s know since he was five and who he suspects is the one who spray painted FAG on his locker the other day, and Glen, the son of his parent’s best friends who once made a blood pact with Blaine when hey were seven and who yesterday told him he thought it would be better if Blaine quit the soccer team before something ‘unpleasant’ happened. So Blaine tagged along to this game to show that just because he was gay didn’t mean he was any less of a man.

The team they’re playing against is awful although the cheerleaders are pretty good. Though Blaine suspects he’s the only guy there judging them purely based on their talent and not the size of their breasts.

Blaine puts his gloved hands over his nose and mouth, hoping to warm them up a bit and glances at the scoreboard. At least the game would be over soon.

And then the other team stars dancing. To Beyonce.

Single Ladies plays out over the stunned crowd and the football players just start going for it.

Jason jabs Blaine in the side with his elbow.

“Hey, maybe you should transfer here, I’m sure you’d fit right in with this team of queers.”

Blaine doesn’t have a chance to retort because the quarterback has thrown the ball and…

Touchdown.

The crowd goes wild. Evidently the home crowd are aware of just how badly their team sucks and are as surprised as the away crowd.

The shouting dies down as the kicker runs onto the field.

He’s tiny. He couldn’t be taller than Blaine and definitely has less muscle mass. His arms just look ridiculous peeking out from underneath the giant shoulder pads. Although Blaine has learned not to judge on appearances alone he can’t help labeling this boy in his mind. If this kid isn’t gay, there’s no way Blaine is. He reached the quarter back and daintily puts the kicking tee down on the grass before backing up. He signals  with his hand and Beyonce starts up again. This is the most surreal experience of Blaine’s entire life.

Then the boy starts dancing and he’s putting even Beyonce herself to shame with his moves. He looks like he was taught by the dancers themselves but before he can dwell on this boy’s dancing skills further, the kicker has danced his way towards the ball and the ball flies in a perfect arc right through the goalposts.

The crowd goes absolutely bananas. Dimly, Blaine can hear some proud parent yelling ‘that’s my son! That’s my son!’ and Blaine feels a little pang of jealousy because if he ever tried to combine dancing and sports, his father would probably disown him for blasphemy. His view is obscured, but he watches as the boy pulls off his helmet and is lifted into the air, smiling and blowing kisses to the adoring crowd.

Later that night, inspired by the courage shown by the kicker, player #3, in being so open about his sexual orientation, Blaine comes out to his parents.

His mother cries

His father doesn’t believe him.

“Blaine,” he says, his tone condescending as it always is, “You’re only sixteen. How can you be sure…”

“I’ve known since I was four and a half dad.”

His father rolls his eyes. His mother weeps silently beside him. Her hand is covering her mouth and her head is hung low, shaking slowly as tear track down her cheeks but he can still hear her saying softly.

“Where did we go wrong?”

Blaine feels a surge of anger and hurt well up inside him.

His father shakes his head.

“Blaine, why don’t you go off to bed and we’ll talk about this in the morning. Maybe you’ll feel differently. You’re still young you may still change your mind.”

Blaine stares at his father, his mouth hanging open in shock.

“Dad, this isn’t some rash decision I’ve made. Trust me. If it was I certainly would not have chosen this.” He spreads his arms wide to indicate the space between him and his parents both literal and figurative, “but this isn’t something I can help. This is who I am. I was born this way. Why can’t you just accept me fore who I am?”

By the time he’s finished tears are rolling down his cheeks too. He watches as his father puts a comforting hand on his mothers shoulder.

“I’m just really disappointed in you Blaine.” He shakes his head as though he has another else to say and Blaine realizes that that’s exactly what has happened.

He stands and walks out of the living room and towards the stairs. As he ascends the staircase toward his room, Blaine remembers the dad he heard in the stands that night, shouting out his pride for all the world to hear. Shouting out his pride in a son who had just danced his way to a football victory.

That’s my son! That’s my son!

Blaine wished just once his dad would shout for him like that.

~4~

Blaine is sixteen and huffs out an impatient breath as his father pops the hood of the car and disappears into the bowls of the car’s engine.

They are somewhere just outside Lima, sitting on the side of the highway on a cold January day. The sky is thankfully clear, no sign of snow, still Blaine wished he hadn’t forgotten to charge his phone because he doesn’t have anything to occupy his mind while his father fiddles with the car.

Finally, he gives up trying to find something to occupy his mind and steps out of the car. A blast of frigid air hits him and he almost gets back in the car but he’s sure his father heard him get out and a small part of him doesn’t want his dad to think him any less of a man then he already does. Tensions have been running high in the four months since he came out to his parents. They haven’t really spoken about it much but the fact hat his mother seems to be inviting more and more of her friends who have daughters his age over to dinner hasn’t escaped his notice. If it wasn’t for his sister Franzie’s support he’s not sure he would have been able to make it this far.

Franzie is three years younger than him and for as long as he can remember she’s been his best friend. The disastrous night he came out to his parents she had come into his room while he sobbed on his bed and sat with him. He told her what had happened and she had hugged him. She didn’t say anything really, she didn’t need to. She just crawled into bed with him and started talking about boys. What boys she thought were cute what boys she didn’t like. This one particular boy in her class that made her stomach do flip-flops every time she walked past. She asked him about the kind of boys he likes and before he knows it, he starts telling her about the kinds of boys he likes and the boy at the game that night who gave him courage to come out.

He moves to the front of the car and stops beside his father who is bent low over the labyrinthine car engine.

Blaine clears his throat.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He father huffs out a frustrated breath and looks over at him.

“Do you know anything about car engines?”

Blaine feels himself deflate.

“No.”

“Then you’d really only be a hindrance at this point.”

Blaine nods and gets back into the car.

…

His father gets them to limping and they make it into Lima without any other problems. They pull into the first garage they find.

A man wearing coveralls, a baseball cap and the name Burt embroidered on the left breath pocket comes out to greet them.

His father and Burt speak and Blaine sits in the car, staring aimlessly out the window. In the depths of the shop, Blaine sees a face peering around the open hood of an escalade. The brightness outside obscures inside of the shop making it look darker than it actually is but Blaine can practically feel those eyes boring into him. The facial features are soft, almost feminine although Blaine knows it’s a boy. Not because of any sexist idea that women can’t work in garages, Blaine couldn’t say how he knew, just that he did. For some reason, he can’t look away. He is captivated by the eyes, and he feels the itch of a memory at the back of his mind. For some reason, power ranger pop into his head and he remembers getting up early on Saturdays and watching them with a bowl of cereal, not feeling alone because he was apart of this superhero team.

His thoughts are interrupted his father getting back in the car. He says something about coolant but Blaine tunes it out.

That summer, his father announces they are going to rebuild a car together telling him it’ll be a good bonding experience and give Blaine a better understanding of the inner workings of cars. Blaine can see through the flimsy excuses though to what his father really wants out of this exercise.

~5~

Blaine comes down the stairs straightening his tie for the hundredth time. Barry and his dad are picking him up in ten minutes to take him to the Sadie Hawkins dance. Blaine’s mother comes out of the kitchen and puts a hand to her mouth, hiding a sad smile.

“Oh, don’t you look handsome.”

For a moment they stand there and it’s like there’s nothing wrong. His mother forgets that Blaine is going to a dance with a boy and Blaine forgets that his parents will probably never truly accept him for who he is. But the moment passes and his mother rubs her hands on her apron and moves back into the kitchen without another word.

Blaine hears ‘my heart will go on’ coming from the living room and wanders in to find Franzie sitting on the couch and the television showing a cheerleading team in red and white uniforms performing an insanely complex routine while a boy with a hands free mike and the most astounding voice belts out Celene Dion.

“What’cha watching Franz?”

National Cheerleading competition.” she says. “I think this team is the defending champion. I was just flipping through. Isn’t this guy’s voice amazing?”

Blaine nods as he sits beside her and stares at the screen, captivated.

~6~

Blaine is shocked. Pavarotti’s dead? He just saw the bird yesterday. Kurt is understandably upset. Blaine knows Pavarotti was more than just a pet to him. Kurt always took the care of the bird very seriously, knowing how important entrusting the bird to him was. Kurt pulls out a tape and soft guitar chords float through the room before Kurt begins to sing. At first, Blaine is thinking about Pavarotti but his focus shifts as he looks up into Kurt’s tear filled eyes.

He’s seen those eyes before, and not in the past few months he’s known the boy.

He saw them on the side of a highway nine years ago, in the face of a boy who’d just lost his mother. It was Kurt, Blaine realizes, in shock from the sudden loss just as he is now. He remembers more. A boy in playgroup with shimmering blue eyes, a football player being hoisted up in the shoulders of his teammates, peering through the darkness around the hood of a car, beaming from the TV screen as he belts his heart out.

Kurt has been there time and time again. Has given him strength and love without even realizing it.

Blaine looks up now, into the sparkling eyes of his best friend and realizes this is the person he’s been looking for forever. And he hadn’t even known it.