"What did you want to do tonight?" Blaine asked Kurt. They were sitting on Kurt's bed, Blaine's back against the headboard, Kurt's back against Blaine's chest. Blaine's arms were wrapped around Kurt's waist, his hands linked together across Kurt's stomach, his chin resting on Kurt's shoulder.
Kurt was flipping the channels on his TV, trying to find something interesting to watch. He stopped on a movie channel and dropped the remote onto the bed, satisfied with watching Moulin Rouge again.
"Let's go see that new Cooper Anderson movie," Kurt said, flipping open the latest Vogue and relaxing into Blaine's embrace.
Blaine tensed slightly and gripped Kurt a little more tightly. "Why? You hate action films."
"But you don't. Plus I'll never complain about seeing a movie with such hot eye candy," Kurt said, twisting his head and grinning at Blaine.
His smiled faded, though, when he saw Blaine had a horrified look on his face. Chuckling and pecking Blaine's cheek, Kurt said, "Don't worry. You're still my favorite eye candy."
"I don't want to see that movie," Blaine said tersely.
"Oh, come on. I won't say anything about Cooper."
"NO! I don't want to see it!" Blaine said loudly. He pulled his arms off Kurt and tried to slide out from behind him.
Kurt laid his hand on Blaine's let to stop him and turned himself around to face him. "Hey. I'm sorry. Why are you getting so angry? You don't mind me fawning over Taylor Lautner."
"That's because Taylor Lautner isn't my brother," Blaine said flatly.
Kurt blinked at him for a couple seconds. "Wh – what?"
Blaine took a deep breath and said, "Cooper Anderson is my older brother."
"Cooper Anderson, the actor, is your older brother?" Kurt repeated slowly.
Blaine nodded and Kurt's eyes expanded to the size of saucers.
Blaine sighed, leaned over the bed and reached into his bag, and pulled out his wallet. He dug his fingers into one of the folds and extracted a photo, slightly worn and bent at the edges, which he held out to Kurt.
Kurt took it from him and stared at it. It was clearly five or six years old (Blaine looked about eleven or twelve) and was from a college graduation. Blaine's parents were standing behind him, their arms wrapped around a young man who was unmistakably a twenty one or twenty-two year old Cooper Anderson.
"Oh. My. God. We've known each other for a year and half – over a year of which we've been dating – and you haven't told me your older brother is Cooper Anderson?" Kurt exclaimed, smacking Blaine's arm. "What is wrong with you?"
"I don't like talking about it," Blaine mumbled, stuffing the picture back into his wallet.
"Why?"
Blaine looked at Kurt who was giving him a curious, yet concerned look.
"Cooper's ten years older than me. He was always way ahead of me in everything. Growing up I watched Cooper be the perfect athlete, get perfect grades, be the perfect performer. I used to idolize him so much. I wanted to be just like my big brother – until I started being put in his shadow and compared to him.
"As soon as I started school, it was always 'You should take a page out of Coop's book, Blaine.' or 'You should aim to be like Coop, Blaine.' Whatever I did, it was never good enough for my parents, especially my dad. Once I hit middle school, it got worse. I didn't make the soccer team and I didn't get cast in the school plays – not like Cooper who was the star on the field and the stage. If I got an A- in a class, they were disappointed because Cooper had gotten an A.
"And when I realized I was gay," Blaine laughed bitterly. "Cooper was already out in LA with a line of hot, blonde, perfect Barbie doll girlfriends behind him. I knew being gay would just be one more notch on my stick of disappointments. I was right."
Blaine was picking at a loose thread on his sweater, not looking at Kurt. "It's even worse now that he's such a huge star. They're so proud of him, can't wait to tell their snooty, rich friends that the famous actor Cooper Anderson is their son. I never hear them talk about me unless they have to. Sometimes it's like I don't even exist to them."
He finally stopped talking, his eyes still trained on his sweater. He only looked up when Kurt's warm hand enclosed around his own and his other gently gripped his chin.
Kurt shifted closer to Blaine and kissed him lightly and sweetly. After a couple seconds, though he pulled away from the kiss, Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck and hugged him tightly.
"I love you so much," Kurt said against Blaine's skin.
He let go and sat back Indian-style in between Blaine's legs.
"I just…I love my brother but I feel so inadequate next to him. That's why I don't talk about him. I want to stand on my own credit."
"You are not inadequate," Kurt said forcefully. "So you don't play sports. You got straight As at Dalton and you're in all honors classes at McKinley. You were lead of the Warblers and the star of West Side Story. You're a fabulous singer and dancer. You are such a loyal friend and a wonderful boyfriend. You make my day just by smiling. You bring so much joy to people's lives. Not to mention the fact that you're absolutely gorgeous. Much better looking than Cooper," Kurt added.
Blaine snorted and laughed.
"I've told you before and I'll keep telling you. I am so proud of you and so proud to be with you," Kurt said, taking Blaine's face in his hands.
"Thank you," Blaine said.
"I love you." Kurt kissed Blaine again, this time more forcefully and with more emotion.
"I love you, too," Blaine said when they broke apart. "Sorry I kind of weighed down our night."
"It's fine," Kurt said. "I'm glad you finally told me. We can stay here. We'll order Chinese and watch Grease. How does that sound?"
"It sounds great."