Chapter 10 - last week of sophomore year
The day after the concert, Blaine got a phone call from his father. He let it go to voicemail because he didn't want to deal, and left it until well after dinner before checking it.
Thomas and I are taking a weekend away. You can't come here this weekend. I don't want you in the house alone.
Blaine sighed, erased the message, and texted Finn.
No coffeehouse Sat. Dad away, can't go home.
Blaine settled in at his desk to work on his geometry, not expecting a reply from Finn until much later because of the juggling to his usual schedule that a Tuesday concert had caused, but his phone buzzed at his elbow not five minutes later.
Can't go either. Finals next week. C. making me study :(
Blaine breathed a sigh of relief at being able to have a little time and space from Finn to try to deal with the crazy feelings he'd been holding back all day. He couldn't erase the feeling of being in Finn's arms, of Finn's lips against the side of his neck. Of the gnawing fear in his stomach when Finn had tried to tell him about Glitter in the Air.
It was too much.
Blaine knew, of course, that Finn was probably at least half in love with him. He also knew that he was probably more than half in love with Finn... and he couldn't have that.
He wasn't worthy of Finn's love. He was too needy, too broken, too imperfect. And what about the other people in Finn's life? How would Blaine possibly fit into all of that, if he were to tell Finn that maybe he did want more than what they already shared? He was already taking time away from Finn and Carl. He never asked, but he was sure he was taking time away from the boyfriend who was still in town. He tried not to ask about the one who was away, because it made Finn's face go cloudy in a way that left Blaine unsettled.
He started to feel anxious, the kind of skin-itching jitters that usually had him calling Finn. But he couldn't do that, not tonight. It was too late for the gym, for running or boxing or just anything.
It was either Finn or . . . no. He couldn't do that, not anymore. Not after he'd promised Finn. Not after he'd explained it all to Jeff, why he wouldn't and couldn't.
But maybe . . .
He padded into the hall, past doors closed tight and white boards scrawled with notations like wake me after finals and AP Euro History, disturb on penalty of death, to where Jeff's door was surprisingly open. Blaine knocked anyway on the doorframe, and Jeff waved him in. He was sitting on his bed, laptop on his knees and a stack of library books open on the floor.
"Hey," Blaine said softly. "I'm not bothering you, am I?"
"Nah," Jeff smiled. "Just a paper for English. If I didn't have to cite outside sources, I could write it in my sleep. What's up?"
Blaine stared at his socks. "Just . . . restless, I guess. Needed company."
"Where's your guy? Isn't Wednesday your usual thing?"
"We went to that concert last night. He had to be home tonight."
Jeff set his laptop carefully on his pillows, and patted the foot of his bed. "C'mere. Sit. Tell me what's going on. You seem . . . anxious."
"God." Blaine heaved a sigh. "It's so complicated."
"Okay. First. Take a breath." Jeff waited while Blaine took in a deep breath the way Finn sometimes asked him to do when he got too caught up in his own head. "Good," Jeff nodded. "Now - what's so complicated about it?"
"Should I start with his three boyfriends and his girlfriend?" he snapped. "Or that I told him I didn't want kissing or anything sexual?"
Jeff shook his head. "What would Finn do if he heard you talking like that?"
Blaine gulped. He knew he was complaining in a way that would have gotten him at least a handful of swats from Finn, but this was Jeff he was talking to, and he'd thought - he figured he was safe here, but... "Um... he'd have me over his knee in a heartbeat."
"Well. I can't do that, so I'll just remind you to watch your tone. And now, start at the beginning. Finn is poly, then." It wasn't a question, and Blaine cocked his head and just sort of stared at Jeff.
"How do you know all of this stuff, anyway? I mean, aren't you being groomed to be a Young Republican or something?"
Jeff rolled his eyes. "Please. My father's ambitions aren't mine. I may be a Dalton legacy, but my family is pretty colorful. My oldest sister is in a triad, and one of her boyfriends is totally kinky. It's kind of awesome, actually." Jeff blushed a little, and Blaine wanted to ask more about triads and the kinky boyfriend who clearly had some effect on Jeff, but it wasn't the time.
Jeff nodded, like he knew what Blaine was thinking. "It's okay. You can ask me anything you want, but you need to tell me about your drama first."
"I can try," Blaine said. "So. Finn and I decided at the beginning that we didn't want a relationship. He's got enough of that, and really, I can hardly take care of myself. I'm not, um. I'm not boyfriend material. And Finn's got all these other people. I'm just . . . me. I can't compete with what he already has."
"Are you trying to tell me that you're not worthy of Finn's time and attention? That you're not good enough?"
Blaine shook his head. "I'm never good enough. I've never been good enough, and I'm still not."
"What happened, that's got you feeling this way? I mean, if things were just platonic for the two of you?" Jeff shifted, settled back against his pillows.
"We went to see the Indigo Girls, and he held me for most of the show. And then we were talking about how music made us feel, and he was about to tell me he had feelings for me, but I was too scared to hear it. So I told him I couldn't."
"So what's the problem?"
"I want to. I want to hear him tell me how he feels. I want to tell him that I think I might love him, even though I know I shouldn't, because it's crossing the line we both agreed to." Blaine felt himself slipping back into a whine, but a stern look from Jeff jolted him back into himself and he lowered his voice a bit.
"What's the worst thing that could happen, if you let things evolve from where they are?" Blaine felt Jeff's eyes boring into him, and even though he wanted to look away he couldn't.
Blaine tried to hold the words back, the flood of fears and feelings he'd been choking on all day. But Jeff just waited, patient and calm. "What happens if I tell him I love him and he doesn't want me? Or doesn't want to keep doing this? Because I need it, Jeff. God, I need it so badly, and I don't think I'd be able to handle it if he decided it was too much. If I was too much."
"You're kind of a mess, aren't you, babe?" Jeff was so matter-of-fact about everything. It was kind of nice. It made Blaine feel at ease, talking with him like this.
"I told Finn that, the first time we ever talked, that I'm pretty much always a mess."
Jeff smiled. "Did that make him run?"
"No."
"What's the worst he's ever seen you at?"
Blaine nodded. He knew what Jeff was getting at. "Right after we started, I was jonesing for some coke. He'd made me promise I wouldn't, and I called him wicked late at night. He drove two hours to get here, and he stayed with me until the morning." Blaine's heart fluttered at little at the memory. "He got in a lot of trouble, because of that."
"I think you have your answer, babe. That guy, he's not going anywhere. Even if he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, you're not going to lose him as your Top. You told me you were his, right?"
Blaine shivered, the way he did whenever he thought about belonging to Finn. "Yeah."
"So. If he does love you, that can only enhance what you already share, don't you think?"
"I suppose so," Blaine sighed, but he really wasn't sure.
"I can't take care of you, the way Finn does. I can't make you set your fears down, Blaine. But you're lucky that you do have someone who can. You need to talk to Finn." Jeff's tone and expression were stern. "You need to at least let him help you, even if you don't tell him everything."
Blaine nodded, but his fear gathered up, settled over him like a blanket.
There was no way he could let Finn help him, not right now.
Now he needed to hide.
He put on his Happy Blaine face, hoped that it fooled Jeff, and made excuses about his Geometry homework. Backed out of Jeff's room, and moved back up the silent hall to his own. He walked past his books, open on his desk, slid into his bed, and just stayed there.
He didn't sleep that night.
He didn't sleep the next night either.
He felt like he was going to fly apart, and he couldn't control anything.
He needed Finn. He needed what Finn could give him, and he was too scared to ask for it, so he just kept hiding.
Finn tried not to worry when he didn't get a text back from Blaine, but he drove out to Westerville anyway, texting him every fifteen minutes or so. He knew Blaine would feel guilty for not responding, even if he had a good reason for not doing it, but his instinct to protect him was too strong to override. He didn't have a good reason for it, and if he were to be logical about it, Blaine was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but that didn't matter.
But when he got to Blaine's floor and knocked on his door, there was no answer. His white board, where Blaine would normally leave a message for visitors, was blank. There wasn't anything to indicate where he was. Finn tried not to panic. He had to sit down on the floor for a good two minutes before he could be rational again.
He took a casual walk down the hallway, smiling at boys who'd been at the last floor party, but he didn't stop walking until he passed a room where there was a boy he knew by name. "Jeff?"
Jeff absently looked up from his studying, but his face cleared when he saw Finn. "Hey," he said.
"I'm here to see Blaine, but he's not around," Finn said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Do you know where he is?"
Jeff nodded slowly, thinking. "He said something at dinner about picking up his boxing gloves from the locker room. Maybe he has a late coaching session?"
Finn sighed. "I'm just... okay. Fine. I'll wait."
"You'll freak out if you wait like that," Jeff said, pushing his chair back. "C'mon. I'll buy you a coffee."
Coffee wasn't exactly what Finn thought would help him just then, but he was willing to get his customary hot chocolate. When Jeff pulled out a small bottle of Bailey's liquour, he shook his head, but then he kind of wished he hadn't. He was wound too tight, with too much riding on every minute that Blaine wasn't there, next to him, close enough to touch, for him to wrap him in his arms. It wasn't sexual - it wasn't. It was just that he needed him.
They left a note on Blaine's white board explaining where they were, just in case Blaine got back. Jeff's eyes on him, and his casual conversation, were polite, but by the time they got to the coffee shop, he was clearly frustrated with Finn.
"Hey, I'm sorry," Finn said. "I know there's no reason to freak. He's just late."
But, to his surprise, Jeff shook his head, his white-blonde hair falling in his eyes. "I know exactly how you're feeling, man," he said. "Blaine came to my room on Wednesday night and he was about as wound up as I've ever seen him. And it was all about this. About you, about... this. What you're doing together."
His eyes were meaningful, and Finn looked away for just a moment before he sighed and nodded. "You, uh. Blaine said you kind of knew about that?"
Jeff turned in toward Finn, holding their conversation in the cup of their bodies, a little zone of privacy away from the other patrons. "Yeah, kind of. You're Topping him?"
Finn nodded, trying not to be uncomfortable talking about this in public. "Since early spring. He really seemed like he needed it, and we kind of fell into this... thing. It's not a relationship."
"Oh, it totally is," Jeff said, grinning. "Seriously, Finn, no matter who's screwing whom, you're definitely relating with Blaine. And he's absolutely relating with you."
Finn sat with that statement for a few minutes while he ordered his hot chocolate. "It's complicated," Finn said. "I'm seeing other people. A few others. Blaine's not... well, he doesn't want..." He heaved a frustrated sigh.
Jeff's eye-roll was epic. "Excuse my Cyrillic, but Blaine has no fucking idea what he wants. He's hanging on to this idea that he has to be perfect for everybody, including his dad, and his Top, and all of his teachers, and... you get the idea."
"Yeah," Finn said unhappily. "I know. I hate it when he's hard on himself like that, and I can't help him because I'm not here." He rested his head in his hands, gripping his head like it might fly off his shoulders.
"Well..." Jeff cleared his throat. "I'm not digging on Blaine as anything but a friend, you understand, but... this is something I might be able to help you with. If you want."
Finn picked up his head slowly and stared at Jeff. "I'm listening."
"Please forgive me if this is too much," Jeff said, setting a hand on Finn's arm, "but if you're needing to give Blaine what I'm pretty sure you're giving him, and you don't object to an extra pair of hands helping you out, I can dole out a spanking with the best of 'em."
Finn's first reaction was white-hot rage. No. Nobody touches him but me. Nobody.He sat with that feeling, breathing into it, trying not to make it about Jeff or about anything except what it was. What Jeff was saying made sense. Because it was true. Finn couldn't always be there, and here Jeff was, right on Blaine's floor, offering a seeming no-strings solution to Blaine's neediness. How could he say anything but yes to that?
"Okay," he said, trying not to get more worked up than he already was, and blew out a breath. "Okay. Yeah, that would be... helpful. Blaine could use that sometimes, I guess."
"He sure as hell could," Jeff declared. "Now you're going to have to tell me your secrets for being able to take care of it in the dorm without anyone hearing."
The conversation was fruitful, and all the residual uncomfortable feelings he'd had about Jeff providing Blaine with cocaine were absolved by the end of it. But he still hadn't heard from Blaine, and it was starting to get dark. They walked back toward the dorm. Jeff paused at an intersection and pointed.
"If you go down this road and take the next left, on the corner is the IM building," he said. "You're supposed to need an ID to get in, but the side door to the gym is always propped open. You should be able to find him in there."
"Thanks," Finn said gratefully. On an impulse, he hugged Jeff, and when he let him go, Jeff was grinning broadly.
"Yeah, I can totally see what he sees in you," he said, and gave Finn a wave as he headed back toward their dorm.
Finn hurried down the road to the IM building. Sure enough, the side door was propped, and he just ducked inside. There weren't many kids in there at this time of night, on a school night. He came across two guys shooting baskets, and a small class doing pilates. But tonight, the room where he found Blaine contained nothing but him and the punching bag and a lot of grunting.
Finn pulled on the door behind him and, not finding a lock, just shoved it shut. "Blaine," he said, and saw Blaine flinch, but he didn't stop hitting the punching bag, leaning in like he had something to prove.
Finn took a deep breath and reached inside him for the sensation of control, the tone that demanded obedience. "Blaine Darren Anderson."
Blaine froze, shrinking in on himself, his gloves folding in as if in prayer. He began to shake, and Finn barely caught him before he collapsed to the mat.
"Blaine. Look at me." Finn arrested his gaze, wide and desperate and hurting. "I'm right here, Blaine. Come on, focus." He cast around him, found a bottle of water within reach, and snagged it to hand to Blaine. He ended up having to hold it for him, because Blaine wasn't able to stop shaking long enough for Finn to unlace his gloves, but he got a good amount of water into him, and only a little bit down his front, before it was gone. Blaine was sweating anyway, and he'd clearly been doing that for a while, because his skin was cold and clammy. Finn wrapped him up close in his arms and just held him for a few minutes, but the shaking didn't cease.
"When's the last time you ate something?" he said, his voice low. Blaine twitched a little in his embrace.
"Breakfast," Blaine said.
Finn felt an unreasonable explosion of anger in his chest. It wasn't anger at Blaine. It was anger that Blaine could have gone all day without eating, could have pushed himself past the breaking point in the gym, and no one had been there to take care of him. Wrong, his gut said. Not okay.
"Not okay," he echoed his gut. "You need to eat, b-Blaine."
"I know," Blaine said, burying his face into Finn's chest, "I know, I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I ran away, and I didn't answer your texts, and I came here and I got someone to lace up my gloves, and I starting hitting and I couldn't stop..." The word shattered on Finn's skin like a bird's egg. Finn pulled him in tighter, wrapping him in all of his limbs, giving him as much pressure and security as he'd give Kurt - and knowing in his heart he was going to have to spank him as hard as he'd ever done for Puck.
"You're going to come back with me to your room," he said. "Now."
Blaine stumbled to his feet and managed to follow Finn out the door, which was a good thing, because Finn would have just picked him up and carried him if he'd had to. That would have been hard to explain to the other boys on Blaine's floor. As it was, he got plenty of odd looks and questions about why Blaine had walked all the way back to his room wearing boxing gloves, but Finn muttered something about an injury and they left him alone.
His door safely closed and locked, Blaine sank to the edge of his bed, holding out his wrists for Finn to unlace. Finn allowed his anger and fear to surface. "I can't believe you didn't tell anybody where you were going," he snapped. "What if something had happened to you?"
"I was fine, Finn," Blaine said, sounding exhausted, but the overtone of a retort was clear in his voice.
"Not fine. Not even close. You're not to leave the dorm again without telling someone where you're going. Got it?"
"Whatever," he muttered. "Can I just go to bed? I'm falling asleep on my feet here."
"No. First you're going to eat something. Do you have anything here, or do I need to order out?"
Blaine was able to produce a granola bar and a slightly mushy banana from breakfast. Finn peeled the banana and held it out to him with one eyebrow raised until he took it and ate it. He unwrapped the granola bar and brandished it in much the same way.
"What, are you going to feed it to me?" he snapped.
"You bet your ass I am, unless you eat it yourself," Finn said. Blaine sighed, took the granola bar and ate it, piece by piece, with a grimace of distaste. When he was done, he regarded Finn warily.
"Now what?" he whispered.
"You know what, Blaine. Take off your shorts. And then you're going to bed, right away."
Blaine complied, though not with the usual speed and obedience that Finn expected from him. When he reached out to give Blaine a warning swat, Blaine shied away from his hand. Finn's eyebrows went up, and didn't come down again until Blaine blurted out, "I'm sorry."
"You're not acting like it," Finn said. "Come here, right on my lap. I'm not playing here, Blaine. You screwed up big time tonight."
"I know," he moaned. "Believe me, I know. Just... it's already been a hell of a night, Finn."
Finn heard his own voice drop to dangerous levels. "Oh, you have no idea." Blaine sucked in a shocked breath, and Finn's hand traced circles on his back. He gave him a pat. "You might want to put on the music for this one."
Blaine stumbled to the stereo and slid in whatever CD was handy, which turned out to be 30 Seconds to Mars. His return to Finn was agonized and took three times as long, but he finally made it across the room and stood before him. Finn took his arm and pulled him down without a word onto his lap.
"You can't treat yourself this way, Blaine," Finn said into his ear, and felt him shudder. "It's not okay. If I'm not going to be here to take care of you every day, you're going to need to hold up your end of the bargain. Namely, eating. Sleeping. Telling people where you'll be. And, for Christ's sake, stopping when you're exhausted." He turned Blaine over and let him dangle on his knee. "You need to be taught a lesson, Blaine. Are you hearing me?"
"I hear you," Blaine whispered.
He put the flat of his hand on Blaine's backside. "And you're going to remember this."
The music gave him plenty of cover, and he didn't hold back, covering the pale surface of Blaine's behind with hard, unforgiving smacks. He'd never felt like he wished he had a tool before, not with Blaine, but tonight he thought he might have appreciated the leather paddle Adam had sent for Kurt to use on Puck. Thinking of the paddle and Puck, while he was spanking Blaine, took him down roads he was determined not to go, and he had to work extra hard to get himself to focus. Blaine doesn't need that from you, he told himself firmly. That's not why you're here. This - you can give him this. Don't try to make it something it's not. Just focus.
Blaine flinched and whined, and, once, gave a loud moan that sounded way more sexual than pained, but Finn didn't let up. "Tell me you'll be good," he demanded.
"I will, Finn," Blaine pleaded, "I won't do this again - honest. I promise. Please..."
He was glad he hadn't asked Blaine to count, because the number of swats he was delivering was starting to seem a little ridiculous. Still, Blaine hadn't broken down, and Finn wasn't giving up on him. "You can bet you won't. Because Jeff's going to be watching out for you. If you screw up again, boy, he can spank you just as hard as I do."
Blaine struggled in his arms, turning wildly to look at Finn. "What? No - you can't do that!"
"I can't?" He shifted his aim to the skin under each cheek, where Finn knew it was most sensitive, and Blaine cried out. "Quiet now. I'm almost done. But Blaine, you either trust me to take care of you the best way I know how, or you don't. Either way, tell me now. Do you want this?"
"I - yes! Finn... I want it. God... but I don't..." His pleading dissolved into tears. "You told me nobody but you... I don't want it from anyone but you."
"I know," Finn said through gritted teeth, and dug in with his hardest swats. "I don't either. But I just can't be here all the time. This is the best solution, unless you're planning to move back to Lima anytime soon."
He kept pushing until Blaine was outright sobbing on the bed beside him, and then he just lay down with him, knowing Blaine's ass would be too sore to support his weight. Finn just took him in his arms and held him to his chest and made gentle noises against his hair and kept his mind very, very focused on what he was doing.
"Sleep now," he said softly, and Blaine closed his eyes.
It was maybe a half hour or a little longer before Blaine stirred again. Finn knew he probably should have gotten up and let Blaine sleep without him, but somehow he couldn't let him go. "What time is it?" he mumbled.
"Nearly ten. You have morning classes." Finn hesitated, but he knew he had to say something. "Blaine... after the concert. I wanted to tell you..."
"No, Finn - that was my fault. You don't have to say anything else."
Finn pressed on. "I just wanted you to know that it won't happen again. You made it very clear what was and was not okay with you, and I need you to know, I won't cross that line with you again. You deserve to trust me."
"I do trust you," he said, and yawned.
Finn unwrapped him, making him change out of his sweaty t-shirt, then helped him crawl under the covers, bare-bottomed against the sheets. He didn't have the heart to make him put on boxers. "You'll be at Irene's this weekend?"
"It's my last week of school," Blaine said needlessly. "I'll be there. You?"
"Yeah, but we're going out of town the weekend after that, when school gets out. Family reunion. I wanted you to know. You're going to stay with your dad?"
"I'll be in Lima for part of break, but yeah, mostly in Columbus. I'm looking at doing some summer theater instead of Six Flags this summer..." He rolled to face the wall, and Finn took the hint. He was nearly to the door before Blaine stopped him again with soft words.
"I'm sorry, Finn. I... I won't let it happen again."
"No, Blaine," he replied, his hand on the door. "I won't let it happen again. I'm here to take care of it. You just have to let me."
"Yes, please," Blaine said. He quickly turned back to face him, and reached out his hand. "Please," he repeated, close to tears again. "Stay until I'm asleep."
"Of course." Finn crossed to him, unaccountably relieved, and knelt beside the bed. He took Blaine's hand, and interlaced their fingers, letting Blaine pull his hand over his heart. He held it there long after Blaine was sleeping again.
I like the way you play your songs
I like the way you sing
You look so good in colored lights
And the brilliant spotlight ring
And up there your eyes are fiery
And hotter by degree
But weary and so confused
When no one else can see
So you need to feed the fire
When you feel it start to go
To feel the heat of all those lights
Long after the show
And you need it so much now
You don't even know
All the world's a stage to you
Then where else can you go
You could come away with me tonight
I can make it all right
You don't need a spotlight
You just need a home
I want to drive away with you
Far from New York streets
And head on a highway
Where the sky and road still meet
And the sky out there is bright
And the moon's about to rise
It's all there waiting
If you look into my eyes
Cause here in the city
There isn't much to see
Here in this apartment
You can hardly breathe
And the only lights you see tonight
Are on the ceiling moving slow
Flashing signs and headlights
In an eerie neon glow
You could come away with me tonight
I can make it all right
You don't need a spotlight
You just need a home
- "You Just Need A Home," Lucy Kaplansky