Introduction.
Cooper Anderson never used the word "hate" to define the feelings he had toward his younger, smarter, cuter and much more dapper brother. But watching the little nuisance with Kurt now had certainly brought him close to putting the adjective into use. You see, Kurt Hummel should belong to Cooper. It was Cooper that had discovered the boy first, it was Cooper who had helped him through his problems and it was Cooper who cared for him. Blaine had just waltzed in and swept the angel right from under the older man's feet when he had least expected it.
Blaine Anderson was the smart one, the sweet one, and the one who could make the Prince from every fucking fairytale ever produced look bad in his comparison. Cooper, for less of a better word, was a jerk. It worked in his favour for most occasions when his many conquests had a bad boy kink but Kurt was different, Kurt had always been different. That is why when the older Anderson had first laid eyes on the teen, shivering under the bleachers; he'd taken a completely different approach.
The boy was fragile that day, Cooper was a jerk but he wasn't cruel and he had offered his shoulder willingly as something to cry on. He had listened through hours of Kurt's story; the Neanderthals who refused to give him a break, his homophobic stepbrother, his deceased mother. The years of angst that Kurt was dying to get out of his system but couldn't before that fateful night when Cooper had came along and became his venting wall. It was odd for Cooper to accept that he'd made a friend at first and to let his guard down. For months he had challenged Kurt with his sarcastic wit, which was met with the younger boys laughter, his lewd remarks, which was countered with Kurt's light attempt at flirtation, and his ice cold glare, which seemed to be taken unthreatened and instead warmly welcomed by the warm glasz. It wasn't long before Cooper had let the jerk wall crumble and allow himself to be seen and taken for what he truly was by Kurt.
It was the day when he'd invited Kurt over to the Anderson residence that things started to fall to shit. It had went well at first; Cooper had cooked and they'd enjoyed a meal of the finest cuisine he could offer, they'd made fun of some fashion disasters Kurt enjoyed to watch on TV and Cooper had even went as far as to let the inspiring designer within Kurt dress him like a mannequin in a French boutique. They were settling down to watch the entire Harry Potter collection when Blaine had sauntered in looking as innocent as ever. He had taken one look at Kurt and had suddenly turned into a predator eyeing his prey.
The rest of the evening they had shared in Blaine's company and it was torture. The twenty-three year old had to listen to the two boys excited chattering whilst he was pushed aside and made to watch his favourite movies alone. He bitterly observed Kurt's swooning and his younger brother's lingering touches. And his heart almost broke when Kurt had declared that he saw Cooper as an older brother figurehead and nothing more.
Two weeks later saw Blaine and Kurt at the beginning of their blossoming relationship and Cooper had truly contemplated running his car off of a bridge. Instead he crawled back into his shell, rebuilt all the bricks he had let fall and turned into the notoriously known bad guy he'd once been. What was worse is that Kurt hadn't seemed to give him a second thought; he hadn't remembered the nice Cooper, the real Cooper. Kurt had tried at first, Cooper had to give him that, but you once you push a person away enough times it tends to get them to change their perception of you. Kurt now saw nothing but his mask and he wanted little to do with the façade.
So this is how it has to be now. Cooper the long-suffering bad guy, Blaine and Kurt the two images of perfection that belonged together. The only problem is that Cooper loves Kurt and you aren't meant to give up on what you love without some semblance of a fight. Especially if the person you're in love with is in danger.