A/N: DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE FINISHED CHAPTER 24 OF "Are You My Mother?" This contains major spoilers for that story. This is coda for AYMM, taking place after "Boy, Look at You, Looking at Me" and before "You Picked a Good One." You can read without having read any of those three stories, but you will miss some of the context and nuances. Thanks for reading!
The heat always made Dean a little crazy. When he played football outside in June and July, Dean had an edge to him. He played a little harder, sweat a little more, and Blaise would say sex in that afterglow was the best they'd had yet. August had been good, they worked out each other's quirks and adapted. Dean spent more time in Blaise's flat than his own and had claimed a corner of the closet. Every morning Blaise found himself reaching across the bed to see whether Dean was there. It had more of an effect on his day than he cared to admit.
The air was cooler on September first. It was a rare Friday off for both of them and that should have been a good thing.
It really should have been a good thing.
Blaise wore Dean's favourite t-shirt whole preparing lunch. Sandwiches, of course, because Dean would eat four of them and there was no reason to put a bunch of ceremony into something he would do little more than inhale. The shirt was nothing special, made of some ridiculously soft dark purple fabric Blaise couldn't put a name to. Some sort of blend, something ...
Then Dean's hands were on his hips and everything else was white noise. Dean kissed his shoulder and asked,
"What are we doing today?"
Blaise hummed, "What?"
Dean ran his hands below the hem of Blaise's shirt. Blaise closed his eyes and shivered; he put down the bread and braced himself against the edge of the counter. Dean slowly counted up Blaise's ribcage with his fingers.
"You look nice in my clothes," Dean said. "You should wear them more often."
"People would take one look at me in a t-shirt and have me committed to St. Mungo's," Blaise replied. "I would have done laundry if someone had not kept me so long in the shower."
"Wouldn't have kept you so long if you hadn't left me a mess last night," Dean countered. He dropped his hold on Blaise and walked around to the other side of the counter. Dean swiped one of the almost-finished sandwiches and took a bite. He swallowed thickly and ran a hand across his mouth before saying, "Not that I mind."
"I want to take you out somewhere," Blaise said. He busied himself putting the finishing touches on the sandwiches as Dean asked,
"Alright, where to? Diagon Alley? Or we could do that restaurant Ginny recommended? I know better than to suggest a Quidditch match because Merlin knows you'll fall asleep halfway through. The only person on the planet who could find a way-"
"I want to take you somewhere your friends would go," Blaise said, not meeting Dean's eyes. He knew exactly what Dean was about to say but let him say it anyway.
"My Muggle friends?" Dean confirmed. Blaise nodded. "Did they pressure you? You know what happened last time! Did they say something? Blaise I swear-"
"They say things, Dean! Of course they say things! 'Why do you two spend so much time alone?' I want your friends to like me. They ask us to join them for dinner and you always say no!"
"Because I don't want to shout to the whole world that-"
"That what?" Blaise asked. "That you're gay? Or that you're with me?"
Dean rolled his eyes.
"There is no way in hell I would ever be ashamed to be with you."
"I wish I felt that," Blaise admitted. He put another finished sandwich on a plate. He sighed heavily as he continued the meal prep. "But it was just an idea. We can stay in, get some of that takeaway you like."
Dean took a deep breath. He didn't say anything for a second so Blaise looked up, expectant. He didn't know what he expected Dean to say, but it certainly wasn't,
"Would you marry me?"
Blaise blinked several times in rapid succession.
What?
"Not now, I mean ... Now if you want," Dean stumbled through his non-proposal proposal. "But eventually ... Do you think maybe if I asked you would say yes?"
Blaise stared down at the sandwiches in front of him. Five minutes earlier his biggest worry of the day was whether to use mayonnaise. He grabbed a glass of water and downed the whole thing, not sure how to answer. Dean awkwardly ran his hands through his hair and said,
"Never mind then. I understand, it's not your path, I'm not it, I'm just-"
"While we were on our second date I told your sister I was going to marry you. I thought you knew me well enough by now to stop making presumptions about my silence," Blaise chided. Dean looked at him, stunned.
"You did what?"
"I knew," Blaise admitted. "Narcissa told me all my life that when I found the right person I would know. You make me understand what I thought I wanted was nothing in comparison to what was right in front of me."
"You mean me?" Dean asked.
"Of course I mean you, you fucking idiot!" Blaise said, throwing the butter knife down on the cutting board. "I love you and I don't know how to do this. I do not know how to be a decent boyfriend and have even less of an idea how to be a good husband, but I want you to marry me. You tripped over that goddamn rack of broomsticks and somehow I was the one that fell head-over-heels."
"That is the most ridiculous thing you have ever said and I love it," Dean said, smiling uncontrollably. "So marry me. Right now, we'll get LJ and some friends. Take me out, marry me, then I'll finally have reason to put all of my clothes in your closet."
Blaise sighed.
"It is not that simple."
Dean took another bite of the sandwich.
"Tell me what I need to do to make it that simple," he said.
"I need to tell you something and you might not understand," Blaise said. "You will not like it, but it is the sort of thing you need to know before asking me ... Before asking me that question."
Dean frowned, leaned forward on his elbows and insisted,
"There is nothing you could have done that would make me love you any less."
We will see about that.
"I left Scorpius at Hermione's door."
There it was. Dean knew. He nodded to himself like it was the only logical conclusion. In a way, it was.
"Why?" he asked.
That was the thing about Dean Thomas: he reserved judgement until he had context. It gave Blaise hope that maybe he would understand after all. Dean kept his tone even, kept his gaze steady, and Blaise couldn't meet it.
"I did it because Astoria asked me to."
"She asked you to drop him on Hermione's doorstep?"
"She asked me to put him in Hermione's care. I was afraid if she saw him with me she would say no. It was not her responsibility, after all. I did not know how to explain everything because I am a Secret-Keeper, so I panicked and I left."
Dean had the look Blaise had come to realize meant he understood more than Blaise wanted him to.
"You were taking care of her?"
"Sort of," Blaise said, not wanting to give away too much. Not wanting to give away secrets that weren't his to give. Dean nodded to himself as Blaise hinted, "I was not her primary caregiver, if that is what you are asking. I was more for ... for the inevitable.
"You were doing this behind my back while we were dating," Dean accused.
"What the hell was I supposed to say? 'Hi, I am Blaise Zabini and the only woman who ever felt like a mother to me kept you in her cellar for a month. I am caring for one of my close friends because she is ill from carrying my best friend and ex-boyfriend's child after he shagged her and left on a suicide mission to New York City to protect the universe as we know it! But if you can see past all that I also make great quiche.'"
Dean didn't laugh and Blaise knew he was in for it.
"We have been together nearly seven months and you didn't think I had the right to know until now?!" Dean shouted. Blaise looked at him, pleading,
"Astoria did not want anyone to know!"
"But seven months?!" Dean shouted back.
"I did not know if I could trust you with this," Blaise admitted.
"You just said you were ready to marry me after ten days!" Dean replied.
"What do you want me to say, Dean? I was wrong to keep it from you. I am sorry, but I had no choice, I had to care for Astoria. I need you to believe me when I say I had no option."
Dean shook his head and tossed his half-eaten sandwich back onto the plate. He turned away and started searching for his wand. Blaise couldn't leave the argument there. He knew Dean was about to Disapparate, knew Dean liked to think things through with a clear head, but there was more. Blaise looked at the kitchen floor as h revealed the most damning thing.
"I took an Unbreakable Vow."
Dean froze. His rigid shoulders and awkwardly outstretched hand would have been comical if not for the feeling Blaise had just tipped the scale. And not in his favour. Dean slowly turned to face Blaise and demanded,
"Tell me it wasn't for him."
Blaise looked Dean in the eyes and said, "I was eighteen. Halfway through the war Draco had a bit of a scare with a girl. He has always done this; he gets scared, he gets drunk, and he shags people because it makes him feel valued. Draco thought he was going to die and he wanted to make sure someone would protect his child. I took the Vow to protect his firstborn son."
"Why did it have to be you?" Dean asked.
"Because I loved him!" Blaise said. "I thought I owed it to him."
Dean walked around the counter and into the kitchen. He stood in front of Blaise and sighed.
"I really wish you hadn't said that."
Blaise pulled him down into a kiss. A messy one, the kind of desperate kiss that said, Stay with me. Understand me. Dean put his hands on either side of Blaise's face and threaded his fingers through Blaise's hair. Blaise thought it meant everything was okay until Dean pushed him away and he realized Dean was saying good-bye.
Dean stuffed his hand into the pocket of his track pants and pulled out a platinum wedding band. Knowing he had it on him, knowing he really would have gotten married made everything hurt even more. He wondered how long ago Dean bought that ring.
Was it last week, as the heat finally died down and Dean had to look elsewhere for warmth? Was it in May when Romi said she was taking Dean out in Muggle London? Or was it all the way back in February? Had Dean known then, too?
Blaise begged, "Please. I will marry you right now."
Dean made a dissatisfied face and shook his head.
"I don't want to."
"I love you!" Blaise begged. "I will do anything."
"Why, Blaise?" Dean asked. "Why do you love me?"
"I love you because I do! Because you didn't care about my past at all, just wanted a future together. Because you see me in a way no one else ever has. How could I not love that?"
"Not good enough," Dean said. He opened the kitchen drawer and tossed the ring inside.
"What can I do?" Blaise asked, his voice wavering. "I do not want to lose you over this. Do you want me to take an Unbreakable Vow for you, too?"
"No!" Dean slammed the drawer so hard half of its front fell off. "That is exactly the point! I would never want you to do that. You will go to the end of the world for Draco Malfoy, someone who doesn't trust you like I do, who will never love you like I do! And where does that leave me, Blaise?! Second. I will always be second to Malfoy for you."
"That is not true!" Blaise insisted, grabbing Dean by the shoulders as though he could shake some sense into him. "I would do anything for you. I will give up the house in Modena and move to London. I swear it."
Dean turned and hauled ass to the bedroom. He grabbed a bag and started stuffing his clothes inside, grabbing shirts and knickers from the closet floor. Blaise stood in the doorway and begged,
"Please, Dean. This is why I did not tell you, I was afraid you would leave me. I know I made a mistake. The Vow was a mistake and not trusting you was a mistake."
"There is nothing you can offer me that would change this. I would never ask you to take a Vow to protect a child, Blaise," Dean said. "And that is what angers me the most." He stepped back to survey the amount of his clothes still scattered around Blaise's room. Dean slammed the bag on the floor and shouted, "Fuck it!"
He blew past Blaise on his way to the living area. "All you have ever done is serve others. You like to make things for people: clothes, food, Unbreakable Vows ... And if we were ever to have a child together I trust you would protect them with your life. I do not need a magical bond to know that, Blaise, I just know you. But you never wanted kids and that was fine, I was willing to give that up for you."
I know.
"We can!" Blaise insisted. "We can make a family like that if it is what you want. Just tell me what to do to keep you in my life!"
"Don't you get it?! I DON'T WANT TO BE IN YOUR LIFE!" Dean shouted.
Blaise exploded. He didn't intend for red sparks to fly from his fingertips or for unnamed magic to burst from his chest. It shattered the living room window and knocked Dean off his feet. He flew backward more than a metre and landed on his back in the foyer. Blaise rushed over and cursed himself for being unable to control his temper.
Dean groaned as he lifted himself up onto his elbows then into a sitting position.
"I am so sorry!" Blaise said, reaching to help Dean up. "I didn't mean—"
"Don't!" Dean said, holding up his hand. Blaise backed away as he said, "Don't touch me."
"It was an accident, I just ..." Blaise threw his hands in the air. "This is exactly what I was afraid of."
Dean pushed himself off the ground and grabbed his wand off the hallway table. Before he Disapparated, Blaise made a last-ditch attempt by shouting,
"I will be here if you change your mind! I promise, I will be waiting. Please just, think it over and come back to me."
Dean's jaw twitched with indecision and Blaise allowed himself to hope for just a moment that he would set his wand down and they could work it out.
"I won't be back, Blaise. I am better than second place, and this isn't like last time. If you show up at my door, begging on your knees, I won't let you in."
"You don't mean that!" Blaise didn't get misty-eyed, he went straight to crocodile tears. "You have never been second, you know—"
Dean Disapparated.
Blaise let his shoulders drop. It really should have been a good day.
He turned into the living room and spotted Dean's half-eaten sandwich on the counter. His floor, his bed, his closet, his whole house was covered in Dean, who wasn't coming back. The mere memory of Draco Malfoy was enough to drive everyone out of Blaise's life. He thought Dean would be different but the Vow was across the line. After all, he pledged himself to Draco's legacy that day.
Who wants to marry a person with a commitment to someone else? Dean's right; he deserves better.
Blaise tugged Dean's shirt over his head and flung it away like it burned. He lied on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. He was wallowing in melancholy, but his only real mistake had been believing Dean was the exception.
He wondered if Dean was sad, or if he was simply disappointed to have wasted seven months on a relationship doomed from the start. He would overcome it, obviously. Dean Thomas was too good a soul, too loving to not be coupled. He would meet another man, Blaise's height, probably, since Dean never liked to feel too tall. Maybe it'd be a Muggle, one who grew up playing football and had never witnessed a murder. Dean would meet a man untouched by war and he would fall in love. He deserved the quiet life he wanted.
Blaise thought all of this as the wind forcefully blew in from the shattered window. The hours crept on and the air chilled, but he didn't move. It was like someone had snapped his wand; he just didn't know how to do things anymore.
And that is why no one wants to be with me. Because I am this goddamn pathetic.
Blaise got off the couch around eight and threw the sandwiches away. The elves would be around later to do their customary clean, but Blaise didn't want them to. He Summoned the head elf and told him as much.
"Because I am not ready for this flat to look like tomorrow."