The next morning, Blaine woke slowly. He rolled over onto his back and stared blearily up at the ceiling. Suddenly, he remembered last night, in the shower. He felt a thrill of excitement race through him at the memory of looking at Dean and of Dean looking at him.
"Good morning."
Speak of the Devil. Or, think of him, rather. Blaine rolled over, rubbing at his eyes to try and dispel his sleepiness. He inhaled deeply, propping himself up. He looked at his cabinmate warily. The Rules were still in the back of his head, constantly reminding him what he wasn't supposed to associate with fags. But, hell, last night he'd pushed them out of his mind. He could ignore them for a while and at least be nice. It wasn't like he was going to go crazy, just be polite. That would be okay, right? Dean deserved that, at least.
"Morning," he said back to the blonde, who was selecting a shirt for that day. Dean's eyebrows shot up. Obviously, he hadn't expected a response. Blaine felt a pang of guilt at that. He knew he'd been horrible to Dean, not even just letting all that stuff happen to him at school, but ignoring and refusing to speak to him, too. He needed to make up for that, at least a little bit.
Dean smiled widely at him and he gave a small smile in return, just a slight quirk at one corner of his lips. He stood up, running a hand through his dark curls as he looked through his clothes absently as they fell into a more comfortable silence. He changed into a pair of denim shorts and pulled one of his old soccer shirts on over his head. He plopped back down on the edge of his bed to pull on socks, then a dark pair of Vans.
Dean finally selected a Rolling Stones shirt and pulled it over his head, walking to the mirror to brush out his blonde hair. Blaine stood and headed for the door, then paused.
"Hey," he said, turning back to face Dean, who looked up at him expectantly, "You wanna, uh, go grab breakfast together?"
Dean's lip tugged upwards into a smile that took Blaine's breath away. He never got to see that smile at school. Dean never had a reason to smile at school. "Yeah, lemme put my shoes on," he said and a few seconds later they were out the door.
Small talk came surprisingly easy between the two once they found a comfortable, lightweight subject to discuss. They eventually came to the subject of football and discovered that they were both Buckeyes fans. Dean, it seemed, had a cousin that played for them and had gotten to watch several games in a private box.
"No way, dude!" he exclaimed excitedly, "That's so cool!"
They chatted on about team stats and who they thought would do well next season and the draft. Before Blaine realized it, they'd been talking for almost an hour and he was smiling more than he had for a long time.
They tiptoed around each other for the rest of the day, each of them testing the waters with the other. Neither was sure how the other would react if they got too laid back and comfortable with the other. This was weird. Blaine wasn't used to being this relaxed around anyone, and Dean sure as hell wasn't used to interacting in any sort of positive fashion with Blaine.
Over the next few days they got along well. It was almost like they were normal friends and Blaine had never been among the boys that had tormented Dean for the past few years. Dean found that it was a lot easier to forgive Blaine than he would ever admit. The other boy, when he wasn't around the influence of Brandon and his gang of douchebags, was sweet and kind. The way he smiled shyly at him and how his curls bobbed when he moved was endearing. He was a completely different person than Dean remembered from school and he liked it. He actually found himself starting to consider him, dare he say it, a friend.
They had fallen into a routine of getting dressed in near silence in the mornings, with just little bits of sleepy conversation interspersed between pulling on clothing. Then whoever was ready first (usually Blaine) would wait by the door for the other to finish so they could head up to breakfast together. The first Friday there was also the first mail day. Almost all of the kids' names were called out and Blaine tuned the list out until one name caught his attention.
"CUUUUURLS!"
Blaine's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he looked at Abigail oddly from across the dining hall. Everyone around him seemed confused by the name. She just made a face and waved the envelope at him expectantly. In a bit of a daze, he stood and walked across the room and took it from her, he could hear a few people muttering about his nickname.
Maybe his step mother had written him a letter. He definitely missed Kate, even if he didn't miss his father.
As he walked back to the table to rejoin Dean, glanced down at the envelope. He stopped when he saw the slanted letters that spelled out his home address and that of the camp-his father's handwriting. He shook himself and sat down, immediately opening the letter. It was short, barely two lines long.
Blaine,
I hope you are behaving and things have gone well so far. Remember to follow the rules. I will be there to check on you in July.
Dad
He paled. To anyone else, the letter would seem sparse and odd, but not threatening. I hope you're behaving. Follow the Rules. I will be there to check on you. Every sentence was laced with threats of punishment if he strayed from the course even a little bit. And what the hell was he doing right now? He glanced up at Dean, who was watching him curiously. He was eating breakfast with Undesirable No. 1, that's what. Not only was Dean gay, but he had a presence in his real life, someone who could persuade and seduce him back home, too. He was the devil next door, so to speak.
He felt his heart race at the thought of his dad finding out that he was socializing with his middle school's resident queer. He'd kill him. It'd be worse than when he caught him with the porn. He would literally kill him.
"Everything okay?"
Blaine's head snapped up when he was addressed. He looked at Dean, confused. He'd almost forgotten that he was actually there, sitting two feet away from him. He blustered clumsily for a moment, searching for his words, then regained his composure. "Uh, yeah, fine," he said as he stuffed the paper back into the envelope, which he then folded in half and stuck in his pocket.
He smiled faintly to Dean and then turned back to his breakfast. He quickly finished and stood. "Uh, I'll see you later, okay?" he muttered before practically running away to dump his tray.
Almost immediately, he found Abigail. He smiled at her. She was safe, right? His father would have no problem with him being friendly with his counselor. He was supposed to be friendly with his counselor. Abigail was fair game, he decided.
"Hey, Curls. What's up? Who was the letter from?" she asked, slinging an arm around his shoulders.
Blaine frowned for a moment, then quickly smiled again. "Just my dad," he said as nonchalantly as he could.
"Cool. Any news?"
Blaine shrugged. "Just the regular stuff, I guess," he said. Yeah, the regular stuff. But, then again, thinly veiled threats were the norm for Blaine. Whatever. He just needed to clear his head and shake it off. His dad wasn't there right then, he wasn't watching him. He should enjoy himself. They'd probably go outside and do something, maybe run around for a while. That would make him feel better. Maybe he could convince the group to play a mini game of soccer. He could actually do something impressive and it'd be fun. Just the thing to lift his spirits.
Abigail nodded as she pulled away, ruffling his curls slightly. "Sooooo," she said as they came up on the door to the outside, "looks like we're stuck inside today. Boo." She pursed her lips.
Blaine frowned. Awesome.
"Hmmm…." Abigail turned, facing the rest of the dining hall. She cupped her hands around her mouth and called out, "Hey! Nixie!"
Blaine's brow furrowed then he saw Phoenix perk up. "Yes, my dear?"
Abigail beamed at him, winking. "My group and your group. Craft room. Whatddya say, bro?"
Phoenix gave a thumbs up and nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Lemme gather the troops and we'll regroup at home base, yeah?"
Abigail saluted. "Roger, Dude." She turned to Blaine. "You heard the man! Shoo, shoo. I'll go get the others." With that, she began to make her way across the dining half, zig-zagging between tables and gathering the others one by one.
~break~
Blaine was grumpy the whole damn day. It was beyond Dean what was wrong with him. It had all started when he got that letter at breakfast and had only gotten worse the longer they were together inside.
Dean sat next to Blaine when they worked on the silly little projects they were making. Dean had a long piece of rainbow dip-dyed yarn and was weaving it over his fingers in a pattern he'd been taught was "finger knitting". He stopped when the loose-knit scarf he made was about 5 feet long, maybe a few inches more. He tied a knot and cut the string.
Blaine was silent the whole time, very absently working on whatever it was he was making (Dean wasn't sure, since it didn't really resemble anything he could make out). He practically oozed pissed off-ness.
"So, uh, wanna grab lunch together in a little bit?" Dean finally asked, attempting to make conversation after hours of uncomfortable silence between them amongst the happy chattering of everyone else in the room.
"I'm not hungry. You go."
"….okay, then," he said, frowning. What the hell was wrong with Blaine? "Are you okay?"
"Yes!" Blaine's reply was sharper than he'd expected. Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"If you say so…" he conceded with a shrug. What was he supposed to do?
After lunch, the two groups split up and Dean didn't see Blaine again for the rest of the day. He went back to his cabin at about 8 o'clock to find it empty. He stood in the doorway for a second, shaking his head to get rid of the excess water dripping from his blonde hair, and frowned. He shrugged to himself and kicked off his shoes by the door and walked in.
About a half hour later, Blaine finally showed up. Dean was hoping that he was in a better mood, but it seemed that nothing had improved. If anything, he seemed more irate. It had started storming a few minutes before Blaine had arrived and Dean could hear thunder rumbling quietly in the distance.
Dean watched silently from his bed, where he'd curled up with a book a few minutes ago, as Blaine slammed the door behind him and shed his wet shirt with gusto. He dropped it in a messy blob on the floor, kicking off his shoes and leaving them askew on his way towards his side of the cabin. He threw down his crappily made whatever it was on his night stand and jerked his suitcase out from under the bed, rummaging roughly through it for dry clothes. He slammed the lid shut and tugged on the zipper before standing and kicking it under the bed again.
The thunder was a little louder, now.
"Jesus, Blaine. Forceful, much?" Dean was totally not expecting the icy glare he received from his cabinmate, prompting him to put his hands up defensively. "Whoa, chillax, man." Blaine muttered something indistinguishable under his breath as he dropped his denim shorts and kicked them away, stepping into a pair of comfortable knit shorts. He tugged another t-shirt over his head and dropped onto his bed with a squeak and a bounce.
"Dude, what is up with you, Blaine?"
"None of your damn business! Leave me the hell alone, Dean!"
"Whoa! Jesus! Chill out, Blaine!" Dean put his hand up defensively again.
"Shut up! Stop telling me what to do, dammit!" Blaine slammed his fist down on his bed and sat up, glaring angrily at the blonde.
"What's your damage, man? I'm just concerned about you. You've been acting like you've got a stick up your ass all day!" Dean frowned and his brow knitted together.
"Maybe if you'd butt the hell out of my life, you wouldn't have to deal with it, ever think about that?"
"I can't! We're cabinmates! I have to deal with you everyday for the rest of the summer! And excuse me if I was under the impression that we were sort of friends. Things were nice the past few days. Until today, that is."
"We're not friends. Shut the hell up. You don't know crap about me!"
"God, Blaine! I'm sorry for making the mistake that you could be civil!" He was yelling now. They were both yelling. He lowered his voice and whispered at him, though it still held the tone of a yell. "I'll be sure to remember that you're just a douchebag jock bully from now on!"
Blaine practically growled at that. "Well, at least i'm not a princess fucking fairy bitch! Dean the queen of the fag fairies!" Blaine threw his arms up in the air then jabbed his finger in Dean's direction.
Dean hadn't even noticed that they'd gotten close. They'd both taken a few steps across the room as they argued and met in the middle. Now their faces were just a few feet away, both red and angry and breathing heavily.
"Fuck you, Blaine!"
"Fuck you, too, Dean!"
And at that moment the storm grew a whole lot more aggressive and thunder exploded in the air, lightning lighting up the night sky. The window panes rattled and they both jumped, startled. Dean was surprised when he felt Blaine's hand encircle his wrist. For a wild moment he thought that Blaine was going to try to hurt him, but then he realized it wasn't a violent or angry gesture. It was more like a little kid clutching to a parent when something frightened them.
Them both stared in silence at their hands, Blaine's tan skin against Dean's lighter flesh. Then, when Dean looked up from their hands, Blaine was already staring up at him intently. It almost looked like he was searching for something. He almost looked like a friend in that moment. He almost looked accepting. He definitely looked beautiful.
Dean leaned forward, just the smallest fraction of an inch. His other hand dropped down, fingertips brushing against the other's hip lightly, but then he stopped.
No. No way was he going to kiss Blaine. It would just scare him off from what little, shaky friendship they'd built. He was hoping he could still salvage that, even after the fight they'd just had.
Just when he'd decided he was going to pull his wrist free and turn away, Blaine let go of his wrist and surged towards, going up on his tip toes. Blaine's hands went up to either side of Dean's face, pulling him down and their lips crashed together clumsily. It only took a second for Dean to reciprocate and they kissed heatedly for a few moments. But just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over and Blaine ripped himself away.
The cabin was silent, save for the rain tapping on the window and their ragged breathing. Dean steadied himself and looked up at Blaine, who looked as white as a sheet. He opened his mouth to say something, reaching out a hand towards him, but Dean just bit his lip, looking up at him like a frightened animal, and then turned tail and ran out of the cabin.
Dean was thoroughly dumbfounded and left alone to wonder, the screen door slamming shut behind Blaine. After a few minutes of trying to process what had just happened, Dean sighed and went after the other boy.
The warm summer rain soaked him again as he made his way towards the lake, where he could see Blain silhouetted on edge of the dock. He was sitting by the very edge, one leg pulled up to his chest and encircled by his arms, chin resting on his knee, and the other hanging over the gee, toes skimming the water. He just stared blankly out at the lake.
Dean stopped a few feet behind him, then slowly joined him, careful not to touch. He just plopped down next to him, dangling his own feet over the edge, and leaned back to stare up at the stars. Eventually, he shifted and looked out at the water, as well.
Normally, the moon reflected off the smooth surface, but tonight the water was all ripples from the falling rain. They were both soaked to the bone again and, even though it wasn't cold, Dean worried about one of them possibly getting sick.
"Let's go to bed, okay?" he asked softly, keeping his voice gentle.
After a moment, Blaine nodded. Then the two of them stood and walked back to the cabin together.
A/N: Well! I hope you guys liked that. Their first kiss! It was… unorthodox, I suppose. Sooooo much Blaingst. And this was sooo hard for me to write. But, if I know myself (and I think I do. lol) this will be getting a whole lot easier for me to write after this chapter and the first part of the next. So, hopefully, you'll be getting updates a lot sooner. =] Oh, also! That whole finger-knitting thing? Totally legit. I had a friend at summer camp make one for me out of rainbow colored yarn. It's so boss.
