"Blaine Devon Anderson if you don't manage to get down these stairs in the next five seconds, I'm leaving without a goodbye." Blaine heard his father bellow up the stairwell and in one swift movement, pulled a flannel shirt over his head and kicked the stool he had been sitting on to the floor.
He half ran, half tumbled down the narrow staircase and came to a stop inches away from Mr. Anderson. He was at least a head and shoulders taller than Blaine, and towered over him, warm eyes set into a harsh face.
Blaine took a step back and craned his neck to look into the face of the only parent he'd ever known. A strong, rough hand came down on his shoulder and Mr. Anderson, a poor man by anyone's books, spoke.
"You know the rules, Coop's in charge." He paused, inhaled quietly, and concluded, "I'll see you, boy."
It was brief and to the point and exactly what Blaine was used to. While there was no doubt in his mind that his father loved him, he was never one to drag out a conversation longer than was necessary, and used very little words.
And with that, his back was turned and he was out the door. Blaine shut it gently behind him and sighed. He knew what was coming next.
Sure enough, within the hour, Blaine, from the box that was disguised as a kitchen, heard frantic pounding on the same front door. Sauntering idly, knowing that the matter in hand wasn't half as important as one might be prone to believe, and wondering how the weak slice of wood could withstand such a force, he made his way into the dim hallway.
"Something up Coop?" he taunted from behind the door.
"Fuck's sake Blaine open the damn door." the familiar tone of a criminal on the run was evident in Cooper's voice, in between viscious intakes of breath.
Blaine pulled the door open with ease, and a sweaty and clearly pissed off Cooper Anderson stumbled over the threshold. Cooper, like their father, was considerably taller than Blaine. He shared many traits with Mr. Anderson. He had the same long dark hair, easily tamed, and warm loving eyes that betrayed his cold exterior.
"Jesus" Pant "Blaine" Pant "are you trying to" Pant "get me arrested?"
"It would be preferred, yes." Blaine lied. As terrifying as Cooper could be, as pushy and demanding as he was, he had always been there for Blaine, and he wasn't willing to let that slip away.
"Oh, good to know I'm loved" he mumbled, running a hand through his little brothers curls and sliding past him.
"Oh, and I've found you a job." He added, alsmost as an afterthought, as he collapsed onto one of three kitchen stools.
"Whatever it is, I don't think I want it." Blaine mumbled, pouring tea into two cups that had seen better days.
"Come on Little Brother, you'll love it, I swear. And besides, Seb and the guys are coming over later to prep and brief you. I'm not giving you a choice. You will do it. End of."
With a sigh of resignation, Blaine perched on the table, defeated, as per usual.
Sebastian Smythe, pick-pocket extrodinaire, would be late for his own funeral, given the chance. So when he strutted into the Anderson home, followed by his band of merry men, almost an hour before scheduled, it would be safe to say that the brothers were slighty mroe than surprised.
"Aha, how are my favourite double-act on this fine afternoon?" he had a weasley face and was notorious for his ruthless methods of getting what he wanted.
Blaine silently took note of the other men who had now crowded into their kitchen. Hunter Clarington, similar to Sebastian in more ways than one. Nick, Jeff and trent, none of whom ever looked comfortable with what they were doing, but never disobeyed for fear of the combined power of Sebastian and Hunter.
Blaine wondered how he had managed to get tied up with such a surly bunch of scum. Sure, Cooper had always been a troublemaker, spending more time on the streets than he did at home, but Blaine had always preferred to stay indoors and seized every opportunity to read.
But Blaine had always felt inferior to Cooper, and in choosing to allow his slight frame and quick fingers to be used to the gang's advantage, he felt a degree of acceptance, of approval.
And now, he was sitting surrounded by some of the most violent thieves in the city, being lectured about what he should and shouldn't do when faced with such a dilemma, or such a situation.
"Hey, Blainey, did you listen to all of that?" Sebastian asked, a condescending smirk on his thin face.
He let his gaze land on the lanky yet domineering figure in front of him.
"Tell me again, Seb, what was it you want me to do this time?"
Sebastian huffed, struck Blaine lightly across the cheek and folded his arms.
"The Hummels. You know, pretentious bastards who live in that mansion of a place a few miles out of town?"
Blaine nodded, remembering the time Cooper and Jeff and tried, and failed, to relieve the Lord's niece of everything she possessed.
"Well, my dearest little boy, the young Mr. Hummel needs a new valet. And being the genius that I am, I managed to secure you the place."
Sebastian stopped and grinned triumphantly, waiting for a reaction. But Blaine didn't get it.
"And...?"
"And, you stupid piece of shit, it means that you can suss out the place, get he boy comfortable around you, and then clean them out, before making off without a trace. Brilliant, eh?"
Blaine opened his mouth to argue, but caught Cooper's gaze and settled for a disgruntled "Yeah, sure." Which prompted a harder-than-necessary pat on the back from several of the others, most of whom hadn't uttered a word during their meeting.
"Fantastic," Sebastian laughed, and then added in a hushed tone, "We start tomorrow."