A/N: So I have all the thoughts about Blaine being a junior, but I've come to a place where I can accept it so long as we get all the Blaine + Tina friendshippy stuff ever. One of the things I adore about my OTP is that they're ridiculously stable and mature for a high school couple, and that gives me hope that even though they're obviously not graduating together, that they've got enough love for and trust in one another to make it work, one way or another, and this is the kind of dynamic I want Blaine and Kurt to have in Season 4, and also Blaine and Tina.
To: Blaine Anderson
In lieu of a Broadway classic about achieving your goals and dreams, good luck today gorgeous!
To: Kurt Hummel
I'll be on Skype tonight; you've got all day to perfect your performance.
Blaine's first period of the day is English, and he settles into a seat, looking curiously around. Having missed the first official day at McKinley last year, he's not sure what to expect, so he's more than a little grateful when Tina slides into the desk beside him with a quiet "hey Blaine".
There's something slightly off about her voice though, and he turns to face her properly, notices her bottom lip quavering ever so slightly. Blaine thinks about it for a moment, and right –- she was in a combined first period physics class last year with Mike. He leans over and takes a tissue out of his backpack and places on it her desk beside her pencil case; she smiles up at him, mouths a thank you. It's —- they're close but they're not; it's funny how celebrating a national championship is more bittersweet for knowing you've got a shot at another one, when others don't, and it had buzzed through them, their skin tingling with excitement but prickled by the fact that they would do this again, without their boyfriends. It's enough to have made them friends, and Blaine's really glad that she's here, that she gets it, even if he doesn't want to see Tina upset.
"You can cry on my shoulder," he says, once the teacher's introduced herself and explained the lesson's work. They've been sitting silently beside each other, even if Blaine can tell Tina's totally judging that kid who thought A Midsummer Night's Dream was a porno as much as he is, and it's comforting in a way he can't quite explain. "Kurt insisted on helping me pick a first day outfit last night on Skype, but I'm not really the hugest fan of this jacket." It's actually Kurt's, something he'd left in Blaine's room before he'd moved and that he's probably not going to get back, not ever, unless Kurt acquiesces to the fact, when they get an apartment together in New York, they're only going to be able to afford it if they share a wardrobe.
"Mike already texted me good luck," she says, and the funny lilt to her voice tells him she's torn between a smile and a frown; Blaine knows the feeling, and it settles funny in his stomach, this knowledge that the only thing more difficult than perfecting a stage face is simply having too many faces to wear. "It helped, a little –- until it didn't."
He hums a little in agreement, folding down the corner of his page for future reference and wondering if McKinley's lax standards include accepting back textbooks with Blaine Hummel doodled in the margins; they've had this fight before, they're hyphenating their last names, Kurt's first because he's going to be something, not a star necessarily but an up and coming designer with no limit to his brightness, but a boy can dream.
Blaine has a feeling he's going to be doing a lot of that this year, and it should make him feel a little disappointed, but he's in love, with Kurt and the fact that they're doing this, that they're together even when they're apart, always; the only thing he's questioning is why McKinley chose this year to shake up the English curriculum; he could have borrowed Kurt's notes on King Lear.
"Did Kurt say anything to you?" Tina asks suddenly, and he blinks, turns to her slowly. "I just figured; you guys are always texting."
He's not sure how to tell her that Kurt's already texted him twice since homeroom, once to promise Skype sex of the congratulations on surviving your first day variety and then again to add that Rachel was going to be out of their apartment tonight, so he just smiles gently at her and buries his head in his textbook again. It's a little difficult to keep his smile from turning dirty however, his body sodden with all kinds of anticipation and longing , equals parts him wanting to be there and wanting Kurt to be here, but also light with the knowledge that yes, things are changing, will change, but control over the situation is theirs for the taking.
The class is rowdy, people are goofing off in small groups, texting under the desks, and of course Tina is paying attention to everything but the blackboard and notices it; she's a lot of things, really, including astute. She just elbows him in the side, not unkindly, and Blaine grins –- she and Mike have been together two years, of course she gets it.
"Your secret's safe with me," she says softly, and then winks at him before adding. "If you're thinking about calling him during lunch, rumour has it that Lauren bugged the astronomy classroom before graduating last year and never removed the cameras."
"Figures," he replies, with a snort of disgust, but they're both quiet for a moment; it's not nostalgia, Blaine thinks he'll actually need to graduate himself for that, but it settles funny in his stomach all the same. "The astronomy tower's a little… cliché, though. I'm surprised no one else ever picked up on the fact that Mr. Schue's all too willing to let you borrow the choir room to practice."
"I am so not sitting on those seats again," and then, in response to the quiet chuckle he tries to muffle by biting down on his pen, "not the… not on the piano?"
They didn't, not really, McKinley was a lot of things for them last year but tolerant wasn't one of them, indifferent at best maybe, antagonistic on the days when Rachel commandeered the PA system for a recruitment drive or his and Kurt's outfits matched a little too closely. Beyond that, Kurt's last few months at McKinley were a last minute whirl of packing, unpacking and repacking and planning, their entire world tipping on its axis a little, spun like a hurricane, and Blaine had just clung to Kurt, a little tighter than usual, letting his sadness be tempered by the fact that they had this; together they were the eye of the storm.
"Seriously?" Tina groans, when he tells her this. "The stories I could have told to this year's newcomers. Sometimes it sucks, needing all the people we can get." She doesn't mean it; they're not the same Nationals-winning team that they were last year, but they're still a show choir and somewhat coincidentally, they can still put on a show. The anti-bullying campaign Kurt had helped initiate as class president is still intact, and with most of their worst tormentors gone, he's quietly confident.
"You forget that I was new, once," he says, not unkindly, and Tina chuckles, flings her eraser at him. It bounces off his temple, hitting the corner of his desk and eventually the floor, and he bends over to pick it up, trying to resist the urge to retaliate. It's childish and pathetic in a way Blaine needs right now, though, so he does, only marginally disappointed when she catches it and holds it close to her chest, blowing him a kiss.
"You're ridiculous," and his laugh is fond, a little too bubbly; he buries his head in his textbook when one of his classmates shoots him a suspicious glance.
"Funny," Tina replies. "We said the same thing about you since, I don't know, you rocked up in bright red pants and proceeded to throw about fashion accessories in front of Kurt. Boy must really love you, to have kept you around for so long after that."
"About as much as Mike loved you after that Adele performance," he says, "besides, those glasses were a colour only canaries could pull off; I'm pretty sure Kurt almost wanted them to sprout wings and fly away. I'm still not sure why he didn't toss them into the flames." He places his head in his hands, sighs a little, all wistful but ashamed. "I was such a show off back then."
"You were," she agrees. "Everyone was wondering how Kurt convinced you to transfer, especially when we found out you were only going into your junior year, and then you did that."
"If you're going to mock me for doing the Carlton, please at least give it some respect by using its name, Tina," Blaine replies, trying hard not to wince. It's ironic, really –- he came to McKinley to be himself only to be defined, more than ever, by Kurt. And yeah it's kind of a running joke that they're so in love they could write each other's autobiographies (Blaine's already planning a foreword for Kurt's, something likeyou're a star; thanks for letting me bask, just a little, in the light of your love.), but that's not the point and he's not sure how to explain, sometimes, that they're them, hands and mouths and hearts symmetrical in their desire for each other, but not in their own appearance. "But, just so you know, Kurt never convinced me to do anything."
Tina's eyes go wide, her mouth twisting upwards with something like curiousity. "It started off as a joke, you know, on my end. Not that — but, I sort of suggested one day that I should transfer, as a way to stop him from asking if the Warblers were going to branch out and consider Lady Gaga as an option over Katy Perry, and I think Kurt tried to talk himself out of exactly how much he wanted it for a while, knowing I'd still be here after he graduated. It was always a flirty thing, you know, but –-"
"I get it," Tina says, even though she still looks a little shell-shocked and unsure. "Mike and I talked about how much we should see each other over the summer, to get used to things, but every moment counts."
"You wouldn't have wanted to go to Asian Camp this summer anyway," Blaine says, remembering that Tina and Mike had forfeited the option with a lot of flimsy excuses that really just meant they weren't in the mood to be interrupted whilst making out. "It was Wes' last year there; he gets a little possessive about things he has to let go of, sometimes. Besides," he says, gesturing around the classroom. "I've gained the boy that deals drugs on the end of Santana's street, someone who's fashion sense rivals that of Rachel Berry, and a girl who just happens to do the most flawlesssave me now faces I've ever seen. I have it on great authority that we're all going to get along splendidly." Blaine places a hand over Tina's, their fingers entwined on top of her notebook. "Relax, Tina. I know you didn't mean it; you and Mike went through exactly the same thing."
Tina's silent for a moment, picking at her fingernails, and then she says, "it's going to be different this year, isn't it?" Blaine starts to nod in agreement, and then it hits him, the true reality of what all this means. Blaine and Kurt discussed everything they could possibly think of, both agreed that this was worth it and that they still had Thanksgiving and Christmas and Blaine's trip out to the city to visit colleges next year, not to mention email and Skype and texts like thinking about you and oh yeah? i'm thinking about me and what I could be doing to you. The one thing they never said was don't have fun without me; they're Blaine and Kurt and they're too fabulous to do that anyway.
"Maybe, maybe not," he says, smiling reassuringly at her. "I mean, I'm fairly sure Rachel's found away to haunt the place and make sure we're on track to win Nationals again, but it's glee club. I'm going to miss everyone a lot, but everyone in there is still bound by that common goal of singing. It's not going to be exactly the same, but I think we can make it into something positive."
Tina grins, wider than he's seen all session. "And, on days when it's really bad, you and I can get coffee and then pour out our feelings in front of Mr. Schue," she agrees. "There's got to be a duets competition soon, and I know you need an outlet for all that energy. I'm not your boyfriend; I don't even have to tell you to get down off the piano."
"Kurt climbed it as much as I did," he replies with a wink, and she groans, before checking her watch and starting to pack away her stationery. Blaine's copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream lays splayed open on his desk, the one single page bookmarked, and he thinks he should feel guiltier, except –-
"It's you and me, Blaine," Tina says sincerely. "We're in this together."
"Together," he says, linking pinkies with hers as the bell rings. They separate once they reach the second floor; Tina's got US government while Blaine has biology, and he pulls out his phone, unable to contain his grin.
To: Kurt Hummel
Be jealous; Tina and I are totally planning a not really impromptu performance out on the bleachers to show the newbies how it's done.
To: Blaine Anderson
Seeing as we know I'm totally in charge in this relationship and you do everything I say, this is the one occasion where I'm not going to tell you to break a leg.