Title: Purple (Is So Not Your Color)
Author: bats-in-boots
I don't own Glee.
Prompt came from the Glee Angst Meme, though I tried to stay away from my normal idea of angst and tried a somewhat new take on it. New for me, at least… I don't really know how to describe the style of this one, but I don't really think any tissues will be needed. It's pretty detached.
I'm aware that the lines aren't correct, but I haven't seen the episode since it first aired, and I couldn't find the lines they spoke. So I made it up :)
Anyway, this ended up being longer than I thought. I had been aiming for a couple hundred words, maybe even a thousand… Yeah, that didn't happen.
P.S. For anyone who disagrees with my "definition" of bisexual, feel free to share why.
Warnings:
Strong Language (both implied and otherwise) -Homophobic slurs-
Harassment and a brief account of Physical Assault
Possible triggers
The first time Blaine thought about kissing a girl was when he was in seventh grade. If you asked him about it now, he could tell you almost nothing about it. He can almost remember her smile and the feeling of her hand in his, but beyond that… Nothing. Sometimes he thinks it's a good thing he doesn't remember. If he has to be abnormal, at least it's something that is acknowledged, if not accepted. But then he will remember the feeling of her lips against his, how sweet she smelled, and the warm feeling he just couldn't get rid of for the rest of the day.
His parents had been so proud, so damn happy, and even now he longed for the proud glint in his father's eyes and the warm look of love on his mother's face as she joined in on his happiness. Even Cooper had taken part, teasing him about his goofy grin as he shared with them the tale of his first kiss, and the hug they'd shared after.
"We're dating now," Blaine had said to his father. The man had just raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? Well then, you better treat that girl nicely. I've raised a gentleman, and I expect you to act like one." He had only nodded as his mother smiled gently and his brother ruffled his hair. They had been a family, then.
Unfortunately for Blaine, he soon learned that nothing could last forever, and that fragile happiness was torn away as if it had never existed in the first place. But it had, and that only made it worse.
"Hey Blaine!" the shout caused the curly haired teen to turn, and a grin stretched across his face as his friend caught up with him. It faded as soon as he saw the grim look upon the other boy's face.
"What's wrong, Char?" he asked, worried about his usually upbeat friend. The redhead only sighed and began to fidget.
"I- I have to tell you something." Blaine blinked at his friend before his wrist was grabbed and he was dragged to his friend's backyard. Once they reached the tree that supported their old tree house, Charlie turned towards Blaine and frowned again. He looked like he was going to say something, but then some unknown emotion flashed in his eyes and he shook his head before climbing up the ladder.
Blaine stood at the foot of the ladder and sighed, he had a feeling that whatever Char had to tell him would be something terrible. Well, that or just incredibly shocking. He finally gathered the courage to follow his friend up into the tree house and moved to sit next to the other boy, frowning again as he began to fidget and scoot away.
"Well?" Blaine prompted, growing worried by the silence.
"Do you remember last week when Eric called Alex a… Well-" Blaine cut him off before he could finish, the twisting in his stomach only growing tighter as he remembered the vicious words thrown at the smaller boy.
"Yes," he said. "I remember." Charlie just nodded and gulped before speaking again.
"Well, do you know what it means?" he asked. Blaine nodded. He had asked Cooper what it meant the first time he'd heard it last year. Cooper hadn't been pleased, and had told him to never let his mother hear him say that word. He'd been warned against mentioning it to his father as well. Charlie cleared his throat and Blaine felt the knots growing even worse at the nervous look Char was currently sporting. He was obviously waiting for something.
"I asked Cooper about it last year," Blaine finally said. "I think it was a pretty stupid thing to say, Coop agrees with me." Charlie seemed to relax at this, only to tense once more as Blaine began to speak again. "Char," his voice was hesitant, "what's wrong?" The other boy took a deep breath and seemed to brace himself for some type of attack.
"Blaine," his voice was unsteady, "I- I'm gay." Blaine blinked at the blunt statement. He stared even harder at his friend for a moment, as if searching for anything that could have given the boy away. Then he noticed the shaking and frowned as Char's eyes began to water. "I know you probably ne-never want to see me again, b-but I just had to tell you and I-" Once more, Blaine found himself interrupting his friend.
"Char." That one word managed to halt the boy's fearful ramblings and the boy finally turned to look Blaine in the eyes. "I don't care, man. You're my friend. Besides, I can't really judge you for it without being a hypocrite." Charlie's eyes widened, it was almost comical, and Blaine had to stifle a laugh at the bug-eyed expression on his friends face.
"But, you're not- You kissed Sarah in seventh grade, and you went to that dance with Jenny."
"Yeah," Blaine dragged out the word. "So?"
"Well, it's just… You can't like boys!" Blaine frowned at that, he'd hoped that his friend would understand, even just a little.
"Why not?" he asked. Charlie looked almost offended.
"You like girls!" Blaine scoffed at this.
"Really," he said, "I hadn't noticed. You still haven't explained to me why I can't like guys."
"I already told you." Charlie was obviously frustrated, and Blaine's eyes narrowed. "You like girls, you can't like guys too!" As much as he hated to admit it, it actually hurt to have his friend tell him that what he felt was impossible. Blaine stood to leave when Charlie cried out. "Wait! You won't tell anyone, will you?" Blaine could have laughed at himself; he'd almost expected an apology.
"No," he said without turning around. "Your secret's safe with me."
The hurt from his friend's backhanded rejection coiled in his stomach, but he shouldn't have expected anything better, really. He'd always been told he was a freak.
The first time Blaine kissed a boy was just like his first with a girl, except it wasn't. Instead of soft, plump lips under his, the boy he'd kissed had thin, chapped lips and the entire thing was somewhat awkward. The second was better, though. So was their third, and their fourth, and the last kiss before they'd been, quite forcefully, separated.
The boy, who had been about three months older than him, had often asked him what was better. He'd ask if he preferred his kisses, or those of his previous girlfriend, Jenny, and Blaine would tell him that he liked his best. It wasn't his gender, though, no matter what the boy seemed to think. He was simply telling the truth, especially since the last time he'd kissed Jenny she had gotten mad at him and almost killed him with a golf cart. The golf cart thing was an accident; the kiss had been on purpose.
He hadn't really told his parents about Justin, he knew that at best they'd ignore it, and at worst… He didn't even want to think about it. Then the Sadie Hawkins happened.
He'd asked Justin, they were dating so it was somewhat mandatory, and the boy had been incredibly excited. He kept gushing for weeks before the dance about how this would be there "time to shine" and that they'd finally prove to pretty much the entire school that nothing they did would tear them apart. It hadn't gone as well as Justin had hoped, in fact; it had almost been worse than Blaine had feared.
Blaine grinned as he held Justin's hand in his. Tonight had been perfect. Sure, there were glares constantly aimed at them, and whispered slurs were being tossed around like knives, but Blaine had actually had a good time. He'd gotten to dance with his boyfriend and although they'd refrained from kissing at his own request, he didn't want to push too far, it still felt like a success. The high of being with his boyfriend in public was almost enough to take the sting away from his classmate's reactions, and the dull ache that still came every time he saw Charlie with his "girlfriend" was nearly unnoticeable.
They reached a bench near the parking lot and as they waited for Justin's father to arrive, Blaine allowed his thoughts to wander. He hadn't spoken to the hyperactive redhead since that fateful day in the tree house. Sometimes he would turn around to tell the boy something, only to be reminded in what felt like the most painful way possible that they were no longer friends. Apparently someone had seen them enter the tree house, and accusations had flown. Blaine didn't blame Charlie, not really. He'd been scared, and since he hadn't made the same promise Blaine had, it was perfectly alright that he told everyone that he was gay. It didn't even matter that he wasn't, he was already taunted for a myriad of other reasons, one more didn't change anything but the words they used.
It's not like Blaine cared, really. Getting accidently almost run over by your girlfriend is something every boy looks forward to. It only got better once he realized why she'd lost control of the wheel and her foot strayed onto the gas when he had been standing there. Jenny was upset that he'd been lying to her to disguise his "gayness" as she had put it. That hadn't hurt at all, and he'd simply brushed it off. After all, he couldn't blame her, not really. He should've expected it. And sometimes, in the middle of a rainy day, or some equally non-depressing atmosphere, he'd remember how he did expect it. Somehow, it didn't make anything better.
He was dragged from his non-depressing thoughts by his boyfriend's lips on his and sighed as the boy dragged a tongue across his bottom lip. Yes, their kisses had gotten much better. He grinned and felt the other boy do the same as tingles ran down his spine. He was so incredibly happy to just be sitting there in an empty parking lot and kissing his boyfriend that it was almost sad. Almost being the key word, he was too happy to be sad. Then their moment was ruined, and Blaine wasn't so happy anymore.
"Well, look what we have here. A couple of fags sucking face." The words were followed by mocking laughter and Blaine clenched his fists angrily. Just ignore them; he told himself, they'll go away once they get bored. Justin, on the other hand, cared little for such thoughts.
"Shut up," he snapped. "If you're so disgusted by our presence then leave!" Blaine had to bite back a groan. This was not going to end well, he could already tell. He saw the jock across from them flush with anger and tugged sharply at Justin's wrist. Unfortunately for him, this did not go unnoticed.
"What's wrong, Anderson? Scared?" Blaine refused to answer. He was too busy keeping his boyfriend from doing something he'd probably not regret later, even if he did get sent to juvie for it. Besides that, he'd long gotten used to the fine art of ignoring idiots who think they're right when they're so incredibly wrong.
"Cat got your tongue?" This time the speaker was a boy he'd never seen before, but he was easily as intimidating as the rest and the stupid look on his face matched just as well as the rest of him.
"I don't know," Blaine felt as if he'd just been hit in the face with an iceberg. This voice he recognized. "Maybe his voice is just permanently damaged from all that time on his knees." It was Charlie. A flash of pain seared through him before Blaine was able to stop it, and the tight grip on his boyfriend's arm slipped. His eyes met the cold, dark brown gaze of his former friend and the rest of the world seemed to echo in his ears. As much as he'd been ignored and taunted from afar by the boy, having it said to his face was a million times worse. He couldn't have stopped the pain even if he'd wanted to, and as much as he wanted to hate the boy, they had been friends first. Even if that meant nothing the Charlie, Blaine would always remember him as Char, his first friend. And for so, so long, his only friend.
"You seem pretty interested in our sex life for a straight guy," Justin shot back in some noble attempt to protect Blaine. "Is there something you're not telling us?" The words barely registered in Blaine's mind before a sharp crack shocked him out of his stupor and his boyfriend was on the ground, silent and already coating the ground around him with blood.
Apparently, that comment had been too much for Charlie to handle.
Now a different kind of shock was rushing through his body, but instead of feeling slow and detached, tense energy coiled through his muscles and he braced himself for what he knew was coming. There was no way he could fight all of them, even with how fit he was. It was impossible. He just wasn't strong enough. But the one thing he could do was keep them away from Justin, and he would do just that, even if it killed him. Not like it would be such a loss even if it did happen, he knew that Justin would get over it eventually; they were in High School, after all. And the only other person who might care was off in Hollywood, living out his dreams after telling their parents exactly where they could shove their advice. Not that they cared about that now, of course, now the only words they had for Cooper were praise.
He shook his head and jumped away from his boyfriend's body, dodging a punch in the process. "What's wrong," he taunted, knowing that this was quite possibly the stupidest thing he'd ever done. "Too slow to catch a fag?" The word passed through his lips and he winced at the bitter taste it left in his mouth. He hated it, but he knew that it would work, and work it did.
Soon enough he too was lying on the ground, also the proud new owner of his own shiny pool of blood. He reached out a hand to grasp Justin's, but a sharp kick in his side was enough to stop him.
He heard the frenzied whispering above him grow harsher and sighed. His entire body was throbbing with pain, and he wanted desperately to join his boyfriend and retreat into unconsciousness. It felt as if acid was flowing through his veins and he opened his eyes, only to close them tightly when he was assaulted with blurry outlines and what felt like a rush of ice to his brain. Then, through the growing fog that was slowly creeping at the corner of his mind, Blaine heard the sound of a car arriving and a panicked curse before finally falling gently into the darkness.
He was unsure if the wail of anguish he'd heard was real or not, but he liked to think it was. It would be nice if someone cared enough to cry like that.
The day he'd woken up to a bright light he hadn't known what to think. Then he heard the beeping of a heart monitor and the angry voice of his father, and he knew that wherever he was, it was most assuredly not heaven.
The next time he'd woken up, it had been his mom, not his father, who he'd heard, and he was in a completely different room. "Hey there, Baby," she'd said with a small, sad little smile. Blaine couldn't smile back, and soon her smile disappeared. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?" she had asked.
Blaine could remember refusing, it was neither the time nor place he'd wanted to have this conversation, but soon enough he'd relented. He was nervous, of course. She was technically the first person he was actually coming out to, as Charlie hadn't really believed him, and the rest of the school was just told he was gay. But he was sure that she would support him, she had to. It's not like his father would, after all, and as much as he hated it, he needed her. He had always needed her; he just hoped it would be different now, and that she would actually stay…
"Mom," he'd said, interrupting her staring contest with one of the paintings on the wall. She had looked at him, and given him another sugary smile; it was obvious now that she had been hiding something. He had pushed forward anyway, though a new fear was starting to boil in his stomach, what if she didn't accept him… He shook his head and began to fidget. Even if this room looked nothing like a tree house, the memories of that autumn day were enough to further encourage the fear of rejection.
"What's wrong, Hon?" Her eyes had darted to the clock on the wall and Blaine sighed, already knowing what she was going to say. She had to leave soon, probably for a meeting. Maybe this could make her stay.
It didn't.
"Mom," he'd finally gathered up the courage, he almost hated that word by then. Look where it had gotten him, in a hospital bed with bandages wrapped around his arms and a cast on his right leg. Thinking back, he realized that there had probably been more than just that, it had been months before he'd actually woken up and remembered, though, so they had probably had time to fix whatever else they had found wrong with him. His mother had refused to tell him how bad it was. He was ok with that. There had been enough pain to know that it had been just that, enough.
Her hand on his brought him back from his thoughts, and his skin crawled where she touched it. He wanted to pull his hand away, but he left it there in her grasp. "Tell me." She had said, and Blaine did.
"The reason they attacked us… The-they were unhappy about my date." She didn't get it.
"But Jenny is such a nice girl." She'd said that with such a sad, confused look in her eyes that his heart almost broke. His mom was beautiful, and it was almost painful to see her so lost, so confused… He should have known this would be a bad idea, but he refused to back out now, all because of that damn courage.
"I-I didn't go to the dance with Jenny." She had opened her mouth, probably to ask what other girl he was dating but Blaine had continued before she could. He wanted to get this over with. If she was going to hate him for this, then he wanted to know now. "I went with… hi-his name is Justin." The appalled look on her face was almost too much to handle, but then she had frozen another smile onto her face.
"Ok," she had said. "We can deal with this. Just don't tell your father and once this goes away you can call Jenny again. Her mother is very sweet, and I'd hate to have her angry at me for your misjudgment." She never outright said it, but the words she had said were just as poisonous. "Oh, and I never want you to see this Justin boy again, he's being sent to a relative, as far as I've heard. Just be happy that I'm not doing the same thing." As much as that last part hurt, he couldn't get over her first statement.
"What do you mean by misjudgment?" He really shouldn't have asked. She had begun lecturing him, telling him that this new fad was not something she'd raised her son to join. He had to bite back the resentment at this, it's not like she'd really raised him. She then proceeded to tell him how angry his father was going to be, and about how his "gayness" would ruin his success if it got out. "But Mom," he'd said, though he wished he hadn't. "I'm not gay." That had shocked her, and for a moment she had looked so incredibly happy that a piece of him seemed to curl up and die, right there in that room. Then he went on to ruin it like he always did. "I'm bisexual."
"No you're not!" Her voice had changed from the soothing tones he was used to and she now glared at him, as if this was even worse than being gay. "There is no such thing! I will not have it!" Her words were sharp, and cut at him like knives. He would rather have the snot beat out of him by some ignorant jocks than be sitting there with his usually kind, sweet mother telling him about how disgusting he was.
"You're wrong." The words had been spoken quietly, and he wasn't even sure he'd said them. "I'm bisexual, Mother. I like girls and I like guys." She looked like she wanted to interrupt, but he continued. "Nothing you say will change that, and before you can say that I wouldn't know… I do know, I've kissed both and I like both. Why can't you just accept that?" His mom, no his mother, had only gotten angrier.
"So you make a habit of going around kissing other people, then? I'd always known something was off when you wanted to go to theatre camp, but I didn't think it would make you a slut too." She had continued, but those words echoed through his ears even today. She had called him a slut, his own mother, the woman he used to call mommy… "You know what, Blaine. It doesn't even matter what you think you are, you're either straight or you're gay. We could have dealt with either, but if this greed is unstoppable for you, then I just hope you realize your mistake by the time you plan to get married." She stood to leave, and even as she glared and stalked away, her dark hair swishing behind her, she looked beautiful.
He almost wished she hadn't been so beautiful, that maybe it could have been like Disney movie, and she would have been just as ugly as her words. Maybe Blaine wouldn't have made the mistake of telling her. But he had told her, and that was the day he resigned himself to his fate. He didn't want to fight, but he didn't want to pretend, either. He looked down at his battered body and realized that he couldn't fight even if he wanted to, he would just lose. So he made his choice. "You win, Mommy." He had said to the empty room. "I guess I'm gay." He didn't even want to think about why saying those words felt like he was betraying himself.
It really was better this way, he told himself, if he fell in love with a boy, well, his parents would expect it by then, even if they didn't accept it. And if he really did fall in love with a girl someday, it would double as a pleasant surprise for his parents. The less he thought about it, the easier it was to ignore the pain.
He should have left it at that; his mother's reaction had been mild compared to his father's. He really should have known by then.
Blaine entered the room and slowly made his way to his seat. The pain had mostly faded, but sometimes it would surge through him and he would be left clutching to the nearest steady object, fighting for balance. He pulled the chair back and glanced down at his hands as he mumbled through the prayers his family said before eating. He wondered if they were hypocrites for it, but never dared to voice that thought out loud. After all, how could someone so invested in the love of their God deny that love to someone else? He'd stopped wondering after a while.
"So, B," his brother grinned at him. "How's it going here in little old Westerville? Have you been on any other dates with that girl you were telling me about?" His teasing smile fell when he saw the frantic look on his mother's face, and the sad, almost resigned look on his brother's. His father just looked almost as ignorant of what was going on in this family as usual.
"No Coop," the usually upbeat voice of his puppy-dog of a brother was monotone, as if he didn't really believe what he was saying. "I'm gay." His dad reacted first. The sharp smack of his fist on the table was enough for Blaine to look up from his plate and stare into the burning eyes of his father. Cooper had no idea what to do, he had never seen his dad so angry, but it was obvious to him that his brother had. He wished that thought didn't worry him so much.
"Are you positive, B? You don't look so sure." Blaine had just laughed, a harsh, cynical sound, and Cooper was confused. Apparently, his father wasn't.
"You're damn right he's not so sure," his father said. "I didn't raise a fairy." Blaine stood up from his chair and glared at his father. It struck Cooper then just how small and weak his brother looked, and some long buried instinct told him to get his baby brother out of there. But Blaine was stubborn, he knew, and would refuse to move until he was literally carried out of the room, something that looked far too easy at the moment.
"You didn't raise me at all!" Blaine's voice was controlled, but Cooper could tell that he was angry. "You have no right to tell me who I am. Since when did you care anyway?" The words were cold and sharp, but the pain was obvious, and Cooper didn't like it.
"Since I found out my son was a fag," his dad yelled. "How dare you come into my house and expect to get away with that behavior. We are a good family, Blaine, we have a reputation to uphold, and I will not let you ruin that with some foolish decision."
"Now, James," his mother cut in, "it could be worse. At least he's not, you know…" Cooper watched as his brother tensed even further, he had to say something.
"At least he's not what?" he asked. By the annoyed, almost betrayed look in his brother's eyes, he could tell it was the wrong thing to ask.
"You're brother thought it would be fun to be a bisexual," his mother explained to him, she then turned to his father. "At least he's on the right track; I've heard that curing someone who's gay is much easier."
"Wait," Cooper finally said, "so you're gay, like, actually gay? You like guys?" Blaine grinned at this, and Cooper would have been happy for making his brother smile if he hadn't seen the sad glint in his eyes before it was replaced by a false happiness.
"Yes, Cooper," Blaine said it slowly, "I'm gay. I'm attracted to guys, not girls." The lies burned in his throat, and as he felt liquid begin to gather in his eyes, he knew that the burning must have been tears as well.
"Ok," his brother said. "Why is this such a big deal?" Blaine could only stare. Either Cooper wasn't as perceptive as he'd thought, or the years away from home had screwed with his memory. Then he started laughing, it wracked his body, sending echoes of pain tingling up his spine, and soon his laughter was mixed with sobs. He collapsed back into his chair and hid his face in his arms, it was just too much. He couldn't do this.
Now Blaine was in his sophomore year at Dalton, and he could honestly say that it was getting better. It no longer hurt to think of his parent's silence or the bullies' fists. It no longer hurt to stretch, and he didn't have panic attacks whenever someone's hand brushed against him in the hallway. The nightmares were still terrible, and no one really understood, but it was still an improvement.
He'd only ever told Wes about his bisexuality. The senior had been shocked at first but had turned out to be quite supportive. He really would miss him next year, and Blaine couldn't help but think that everyone he'd ever trusted had left. But he refused to wallow in those thoughts. He'd been told it wasn't good for him.
Then his mind strayed to Kurt and he smiled. He did that a lot when Kurt was mentioned, but Blaine refused to think too hard about it. Wes had been confused at first, but had soon quit pressuring him to "make a move" as Jeff and Trent called it. Just because he no longer had panic attacks, it didn't mean that the crawling, twitchy feeling had gone away completely. He managed to deal with it when he was aground Kurt, the older, taller boy obviously needed some form of human contact, but the fear was still there, curling at the edge of his mind. He was scared of more than just touch, as much as he hated to admit it. He was terrified that if he let Kurt have his heart it would be broken. He doesn't think he could handle that. Not again.
He sighed, berating himself for even thinking of putting his heart on the line like that. There was no way, absolutely no way it would work out, and if he did fall, he knew he would share his secret. He had a terrible feeling that it wouldn't go over well. Charlie's face swam in his memory and Blaine sighed as he rested his head against the back of the chair. This was not the time to be thinking of this, not with so many people around.
He felt a hand grab his and tensed, fighting against the urge to just get away. The lights were bright and the normally calm voices of his friends were now raised in an argument. He shifted in the chair and turned to see Kurt glancing worriedly at him. His lips were moving, but the words were lost in the sea of voices. The itching under his skin refused to die down and he placed his forehead against his hands, pulling gently away from Kurt in the process. He heard the sharp crack of his friend's gavel and looked up to see Wes staring at him, worry clear on his face.
Blaine did his best to smile reassuringly, and the other Warbler just frowned before turning away. "Blaine?" the whisper cut through the silence surrounding him, and he glanced over to meet Kurt's gaze. "Are you okay? Does your head hurt?" Blaine grimaced at the subtle reminder of Rachel's party. While it hadn't been the worst decision he'd ever made, getting drunk was definitely not one of his best. Despite this, the hangover he'd gotten was nothing compared to the slashes of pain he still felt echoes of in his dreams, and the headache had faded long ago.
"No," Blaine wasn't sure which question he was answering, so he continued. "My head's fine." He grinned at the boy next to him and Kurt smiled hesitantly back. He could see that something was wrong with Blaine, he just didn't know what. As soon as Wes gave the okay to leave, Blaine was out of his chair and into the hall before anyone even realized what had happened.
He needed to be alone. He needed to think, and he knew exactly where he could do that.
His steps were measured as he made his way up to the top floor of the building. Very few people ever came up here, as he'd discovered in his first week of retaking his sophomore year at Dalton, and he'd soon claimed it as his hideaway. Mrs. Mason, one of the counselors, had found him and managed to get the rest of the staff to leave the place alone. She'd said that he needed a safe place where he could go to, and unlike his parents, the teachers seemed to understand as long as he didn't miss any classes.
Once he reached the small alcove, Blaine curled up in the cramped space, silently thanking his small stature. He was much more comfortable when he didn't have to dangle his legs out. The first time Wes had found him here, he'd asked how Blaine was comfortable in such a small area, and Blaine had to explain to him that it wasn't small spaces he disliked, but the feeling of someone else's skin on his, and as far as he'd come in getting over it, the small space made him feel safe.
Since the alcove was so small and closed off, there was absolutely no chance of someone else getting in to him, no way they could crawl in next to him.
Sometimes it made him feel alone, and most of the time it hurt, even if just a little, but other times, he relished in the feeling of being completely alone. When he's alone in his space, it's just him and his thoughts. He doesn't get that enough anymore. It reminds him of the days he used to escape to their tree house to escape the harsh expectations and disappointment of his parents. Every cutting word and withheld praise would hurt more than the last, and even when they weren't home, the house held too many memories for him to ever feel completely relaxed there.
He rested his head against the wall behind him and turned to look at the sliver of light that danced along the floor of the hall. How long was it going to take for him to get over this? He just wanted it to stop, and even though Mrs. Mason told him that cases like his took time, he wanted to be able to hug his friends without wanting to scratch off all of his skin afterwards. He wanted to hold someone's hand without feeling a million ants crawling under his skin. He wanted to be able to kiss someone without the fear of freezing and running away. But most of all, he just wanted to understand.
He had always known that the whole mess with Jeremiah wouldn't turn out well. He had always known that he would either be rejected or end up running away. Apparently, the universe decided to go with the first option. He remembered talking to Kurt afterwards, and as much as he claimed ignorance to any and all affairs of the heart, Blaine knew exactly what Kurt had been saying, and he knew that he felt the same, maybe. He was willing to try, but he wasn't sure, and that one sliver of fear was the thing holding him back the most. Well, besides is mixed feelings when it came to touch. He knew what other people thought when they saw him, just another happy, out-and-proud gay who wasn't afraid to show it. Except he was neither of those things, and sometimes the assumption hurt more than just himself.
He sighed again and stood, ready to return to the real world and actually deal with his feelings, a somewhat new concept for him as he'd never been a fan in the past. As soon as he entered the commons, a hand latched onto his wrist and he only just recognized Kurt before he was dragged over to a couch and pulled down.
"So," the boy said, "we haven't gone out together lately, I feel like you're avoiding me." The tone was teasing, but Blaine could see the real fear in his eyes, and he hated it. It reminded him too much of himself. So he forced a laugh and denied his worry before checking his grandfather's watch.
"Well, no time like the present." He stood and offered his hand to Kurt, something that left him both giddy and afraid, and led him out the doors. He looked back and smiled when he saw Kurt's eyes sparkling with glee. He could do this, he told himself, there was nothing to be afraid of.
Once they were seated at their table, Kurt had managed to convince Blaine to let him pay this time, any worries Blaine had were all but gone. They were talking and laughing like usual and Blaine found it incredibly easy to pretend that the subtext, which was so glaringly obvious he wondered why anyone thought he would miss it, was gone. He pretended they were just friends, he pretended that's all they would ever be, and it was easy. It was easy to smile, and it was easy to laugh, and it felt so good. He didn't want to give up this natural friendship for the complication of a relationship, no matter how much the thought might appeal to him.
Then, in the middle of one of Kurt's stories, Blaine heard his phone go off. He looks apologetically at Kurt and answers, he's always hated letting calls go to voicemail.
It's Rachel. "Hello Blaine, this is Rachel. I had a great time with you at my party and have decided to allow you the honor of taking me out on a date. If you need a ride I could have one of my two gay dads pick you up. I understand if you aren't entirely comfortable or entirely sold on the idea of taking me out, as I've been told I have a very strong personality and my talent has been said to be intimidating. But I think we would look wonderful together don't you? Our children would be gorgeous. Plus, although it has been a significant issue that I have struggled to work through, I feel your status as soloist of a rival glee club would just add a whole new depth of passion and conflicting emotion to any future duets we will most assuredly perform together." Blaine had been grinning the entire time she was speaking. Rachel was amazing. As soon as she stopped talking, most likely to take a breath, Blaine stifled a laugh and agreed.
"I would love to go on a date with you, Rachel." The girl paused, almost as if he'd interrupted the flow of some pre-written and memorized speech before finally replying.
"Right, I knew you would say that. You might not know this, but I have psychic tendencies. It's not very strong yet, but sometimes I just know."
"Not to mention your fabulous charm and sparkling wit," Blaine teased. He heard the girl laugh and smiled at the clear sound. It was almost as beautiful as her singing.
"But of course," he could tell she was smiling. "So, do you need a ride? I was thinking we could go see a movie or something." Blaine grinned, no matter what anyone said, Rachel was awesome.
"No, I think I'll be fine," he said.
"Ok, I'll text you with the details later." She then proceeded to hang up and Blaine could only shake his head, both amused and in shock at what had happened. Then he saw Kurt's agitated frown, and the knots in his stomach returned.
"You're going on a date with Rachel." It wasn't even a question, just a flat, obviously annoyed statement.
"Yes," Blaine said, refusing to elaborate.
"But you're gay," the boy said it as if he was stupid, and Blaine supposed that in a way he had been. He should have known that Kurt was one of those people. "You can't just lead her on like this." Blaine shook his head in disbelief.
"I don't know," Blaine said, "we kissed and it wasn't ba-"
"You were drunk." Blaine fought desperately not to flinch back at the cold words.
"So? That doesn't mean it's impossible for me to be bisexual." Kurt was glaring now, and Blaine sighed. He'd screwed up again. "Look, it's great that you know you're one hundred percent gay. Unfortunately for the rest, we're not all that lucky." Kurt scoffed.
"Really, well I've learned that bisexual is just a word gay guys hide behind so they can hold hands with a girl when they're scared." Blaine frowned, that was incredibly harsh, and rather hypocritical of the other boy to judge someone based on sexual orientation. Then again, according to Kurt, bisexuality doesn't exist, and he figures that you can't really judge something if you don't believe it's real. He absolutely refused to acknowledge the more personal pain that came with the other boy's statement. He'd save that can of worms for when he could retreat to his alcove.
"You told me the reason you were bullied was because of you being gay, right?" He knows he shouldn't bring this up, not now, but Kurt's words were a terrible echo of Charlie's and his mother's, and he needed Kurt to understand. Kurt just nodded at him, the glare growing even more intense. "I just think it's wrong of you to judge someone for pretty much the exact same reason."
Then he was gone, his cold coffee sitting practically untouched on the table.
He knew he was being unfair to Rachel, no matter how fabulous and beautiful she was, there was no spark between them, and he knew the most they'd ever be was friends. Maybe it was unfair to Kurt as well. A little voice was telling him that it was unfair to him too. Blaine promptly told that voice to shut up.
By the time their date was over, however, all reservations had vanished. It had been pretty laid back, and they'd had an amazing time reciting the lines together. They walked out hand in hand and Blaine grinned as she laughed about a story she'd been telling. From what Kurt had told him, he had gotten the impression that Rachel was a glory hog who only thought of herself. He supposed he could relate to her, that's what a lot of people thought of him too.
They reached their cars, and although they stood in silence, it was far from awkward. Rachel finally reached up and rested her hand on his cheek. He smiled when he realized for the first time that night that he'd had no problem touching Rachel. No problem at all. Soon enough she was leaning up, far less than she'd had to with anyone else, and he merely had to tilt his head for her lips to meet his.
Their eyes slipped closed and with a gentle sigh they soon parted, neither of them cared to ask who had pulled away first. Both of them were disappointed, Blaine because she was comfortable to be around. She was calming, almost, and he wasn't so afraid with her. Rachel was upset because she had genuinely thought they could be an amazing couple.
"Di-did you feel anything?" Rachel finally asked. Blaine sighed and took her hands in his, pressing their foreheads together.
"No," his voice was so sad that Rachel pulled him into a hug and they just stood there in the nearly empty parking lot under the stars. It was almost romantic, except it wasn't. He had hoped that they could be together, and although he had enjoyed that kiss, there was nothing there. It was just a pair of lips against his, nothing special. A part of him knew exactly why, the part of him where all of that courage seemed to come from. He figured it was his heart, but it had been so long since he'd listened that he couldn't really be sure. Rachel sighed and rested her head against his shoulder.
"I should have known this wouldn't work," Rachel mumbled into his neck. Blaine did his best to look down at her, but it was difficult when he couldn't really move his neck or head. Finally she pulled away and they leaned against her car.
"Why wouldn't this have worked?" Blaine asked. Rachel just rolled her eyes.
"Well, you're gay." Blaine let out a sharp, bitter laugh at that. When Rachel turned to look she was surprised when she saw a sad smile on his lips. "You are gay, aren't you?" she asked.
"Yeah," he looked up at the sky, "something like that." Rachel just looked at him and finally Blaine sighed and his shoulders relaxed. "I'm bisexual, actually." He didn't know why he told her, but maybe it had to do with the fact that he wasn't freaked out by her hand on his arm. Then again, maybe it was just her psychic abilities.
"Oh," she looked surprised. "Well, what does that mean?" Blaine just raised an eyebrow and she looked away. "I mean, can you just be with whoever you want or is it…" She trailed off as Blaine shook his head.
"You're straight," he said. "Can you just be with whoever you want?"
"Well, no. You have to be attracted to someone for it to work, most of the time. There has to be a connection." Blaine smiled when he heard her explanation.
"It's pretty much the same thing," he said, "but sometimes that connection, and that attraction, is with a guy, and sometimes it's with a girl." Rachel nodded, then her eyes widened as she realized something.
"Wait. Have you told Kurt? Because I don't think he-" Blaine's smile fell away.
"Yeah," he kept his head down, and Rachel couldn't help but think how adorably sad he looked. "I told him, well… I told him I might be." At Rachel's prompting look he continued. "He didn't like it." Rachel sighed.
"Well, if you give him time…" Even she realized that he would never really change his mind, so she didn't even say it. Blaine just smiled sadly at her, as if thanking her for trying, and something in her broke at the lost look in his eyes.
"It's fine, though. Really, it is. I've gotten used to hiding it, and I really like Kurt so it shouldn't even be a problem. I-" He stopped talking when he saw a wide, toothy smile stretch across Rachel's face. He began to slide away from her when she started bouncing up and down, but all she could do was smile. "What?"
"Do you realize what you just said?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with laughter.
"Umm, yeah? I said that I was used to hiding it and it wouldn't be a problem because I… Oh." She just laughed until the rest of what he had said caught up with her and she frowned again.
"What do you mean by hiding it?" she asked. Blaine sighed.
"Well, I told my friend, Charlie, first. He had just told me he was gay, so I figured he would understand. Needless to say, he didn't. Then, after the Sadie Hawkins, my mom figured out that I had taken a boy, but she reassured me that they would find a way to cure me. I told her that I was bi, and she told me that wasn't possible. If I was dating a guy, than I was choosing to be gay," he said most of that in one breath, and Rachel knew there was something he wasn't telling her, but she didn't pry. She thought she was lucky to hear this much and she didn't want to push him away. "So I just came out as gay. I figured that it I did fall in love with a guy, then at least they'd expect it by then, and if I was with a girl, well, it would be a great surprise for my parents."
"That's terrible," she said. She couldn't believe someone could say that. Then she remembered all the looks her family had gotten whenever they went out, and realized that yes, she could imagine someone saying that. She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind and focused on the good news. Her new friend, at least she hoped Blaine would be her friend, liked Kurt. She squealed internally before calming down. "Now, what do you mean when you say you like Kurt?" Blaine sighed again.
"Honestly? I don't know. Some part of me is terrified that if I say something wrong then our friendship will be gone forever, and even if I do say the right thing, it'll just get complicated." He rubbed at the skin of his wrists, obviously nervous. "Then there's a whole other issue. I've never liked being touched, and I despise crowds. I just can't stand the feeling of someone's skin on mine. I can't even hug most people without wanting to scratch all of my skin of to get rid of the feeling." He stopped at her horrified look, and reached out to grab her hand. "It's gotten better though, I've been working on it, and somehow, being able to help Kurt makes it so it's not so bad. Then there's you," he said as he stared down at their entwined hands, "with you, there's no itch; no nauseating feeling, and it's comfortable. I just want it to be like that with everyone. I just want it to stop."
Rachel could only pull him into a gentle hug. She needed him to understand that she would always be there for him. It didn't even matter if Blaine didn't want her to be his friend, he was hers and she would stop at nothing to make him see that. "I think you should talk to Kurt," she said as Blaine rested his head against her shoulder. "He doesn't understand yet, but maybe he will. He's pretty stubborn, but he really, really likes you too. If this is hurting you, then he needs to know." Blaine didn't move, he just sighed, his breath tickling her skin.
"You're one of the two people who I didn't have to fight to get you to understand," he said, though his voice was muffled by her hair. "I don't want to fight anymore."
All she could do was hold him tighter.
Blaine stared at the boy sitting across from him and smiled as he got lost in one of his many stories about New York.
He loved Kurt.
He had always been terrified to even think it, but sitting across from him, he realized how absolutely true it was.
So, maybe Kurt didn't accept him, not really. It's not like it even mattered. He never expected him to in the first place. Except, he had, and somehow… That just made it worse. But even with the pain, he knew it was love, and it was worth it. It always had been.
"I love you," he finally said, because he knew it was true. No matter how terrifying it was, Blaine Anderson was one hundred percent in love with Kurt Hummel.
He just didn't know why it had to hurt so much.