[A/N: So, over break EternalTearsofBlood (whose pen name makes we want to make cookies and say everything will be fine) messaged me with the news that apparently Blaine's official name has been announced as Blaine Anderson. Which really only annoyed me because that was one of the two names I finally narrowed it down to. But I like the names Hal Hamilton/Blaine Hamilton far too much to retcon them now (plus that would be upsetting and creatively wrong, I think), so I wrote this. It actually kind of made sense to me when I was doing it, so I hope it doesn't just come across as excuses, but also seems to support the narrative as a whole, and contribute something.]
"Blaine, you have mail – oh, they got your name wrong on these. Weird. You should probably get that fixed." Kurt tossed a few envelopes onto his roommate's bed casually, causing the boy to look up from his Latin text book.
"What does it say?"
"It's addressed to Blaine Anderson."
"Oh, no... that's right." He went back to studying. Kurt blinked at him in a confused fashion.
"But... your last name is Hamilton."
"Well, yes. Kind of."
"What do you mean, kind of?"
Blaine sighed at closed his text book with the air of someone who had conversed on this subject many times before.
"Hamilton is Dad's last name. It's on my birth certificate. Anderson is my mother's maiden name – Well, part of it anyway. Her family liked hyphens."
"So why is your..."
Blaine took in a breath and began his spiel. "When I tried to transfer Dalton didn't want to take me originally – a mid semester transfer hadn't been allowed in years... my parents had to pull strings. And my mother figured it would be easier to pull her strings if she could point out that it was for the grandson of Avery Anderson-Ford-Roberts. So they legally switched my name. As far as school is concerned I'm Blaine Hamilton Anderson, so in school related papers and events that's how I'm usually listed."
Kurt opened his mouth, but Blaine had been here before. He held up his hand and continued.
"In life? I answer and introduce myself as either, depending on my mood, or what will be easier. Just don't tell Wes about Hamilton Anderson being the legal order – he's still working his way through 'D' trying to guess my middle name. My favorite was D'Arcy. Though D'Artagnan had a nice ring to it. "
"But all the teachers call you 'Mr. Hamilton'..."
"Some do. Mostly the ones that've met my father. Others don't. Mr. Scott, for example, calls me 'Blaine Anderson, grandson of the legacy'. It gets old fairly quickly. Hence my dropping Advanced Business Theory in the first week."
"I can't believe I didn't know that."
Blaine Whatever-his-real-name-was shrugged. "It's not a big deal."
"Telling Kurt about your secret identity?" David had appeared at the door, closely followed (as usual) by Wes. It was pretty eerie how they did that.
"Do you two ever actually go anywhere separately?"
"Not if we can help it." Wes leaned against the door laconically. "David and I think Blaine should use his secret identity to save people and stuff."
"Unfortunately he selfishly doesn't listen to us, and only uses it to occasionally confuse the administration or mail carriers."
"I personally think he should correct people whenever he sees them for the second time. 'Why, so nice to see you Mr. Anderson.' 'Actually, it's Hamilton.' 'So good to meet you again, Mr. Hamilton.' 'Actually, the name's Anderson.' Come on, it would be gold."
Blaine shot them a look. "I'm sorry my life isn't more like a bad spy parody."
"As you should be, Blaine Darren Hamilton." Wes nodded, satisfied.
"Sorry, try again."
"I hate you." An annoyed Wes and David seemed to evaporate into the hallway, apparently having reached their mandatory irritant quota for the evening.
"Why is Latin so much easier than French?"
Kurt started from his thoughts. "Because you have an irrational dislike of the French language?"
"There is nothing irrational about it. It is evil."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Whenever I say that about Pre-calculus you get annoyed."
"That's because math is logical. I like math. You just haven't grown to fully appreciate its beauty yet."
"I'll be sure to let you know when that happens, Blaine Anderson." He narrowed his eyes. "...if that is your real name."
Blaine threw his hands in the air in frustration. "Not you too! When Wes and David found out they spent a week trying to pass me coded messages in the hallways. It's just a name, for crying out loud. A rose by any other word..."
"I cannot believe I've been living with a guy for months and I didn't even know his name..." Kurt shook his head sadly.
Blaine scowled. "You are all ridiculous." He threw the mail onto his dresser with unnecessary force. "Call me whatever you like. Anderson, Hamilton... whatever. It shouldn't matter. I'm still me." He mumbled for a few seconds and Kurt caught the words 'matter who my family is.' The younger boy grew serious immediately.
"Hey, I was just kidding." His roommate nodded, but didn't look up from the book he'd buried his nose in.. "Blaine, you know I don't care who – Blaine. Don't sulk."
"I'm not sulking," Blaine sulked.
"Please. I invented that brand of pout. I was five, and my father told me I could only have one of the sparkly evening gowns for my doll, not both."
The dark haired boy couldn't help but crack a small smile at that image, though he tried to hide it. Kurt took this as a small victory. "You know I don't care what your name is any more than you care what tax bracket my family's in. And Wes and David only care insofar as they need to know how to forge your signature convincingly on incriminating documents."
Blaine was finding it really hard to stay annoyed, and Kurt could see it.
"Blaine... I'm really sorry. Don't be mad. Not about that. It's just you and me. Blaine and Kurt. You want to watch The Little Mermaid? We'll sing along."
He was softening.
"I'll bring you some of Carole's shortbread next time I go home... I may even make chocolate chip cookies this week and let you have first dibs..."
Blaine looked over suspiciously, but Kurt had won and he knew it. "You won't tell Wes and David?"
"They'll only get what you don't want."
The senior threw his textbook aside with unnatural speed. "Okay. You're forgiven."
Now it was Kurt's turn to narrow his eyes in suspicion. "Were you just angling for baked goods this entire time?"
His roommate shrugged. "Maybe. Not really... I - I'm not usually that touchy about my name – I don't really care – except when someone makes a big deal out of who my family was. I just feel like... it shouldn't matter. That's why I mostly just introduce myself as Blaine Hamilton to people, unless I'm feeling horrendously insecure or they know me as Anderson. It's easier."
Kurt snorted. "Horrendously insecure? You?" He walked over to pick out the movie with a sardonically raised eyebrow.
Blaine watched him. "You'd be surprised. I used to be a lot less confident and filled with wisdom than I am now."
"Oh, forgive me, wise one."
"You're forgiven, grasshopper." Blaine patted the bed next to him and slid the DVD Kurt handed him into his laptop. "I'm singing Sebastian. You can join in, though." He thought for a moment. "Actually, let's sing it all together."
Kurt nodded and made himself comfortable. "I wouldn't have it any other way."