A/N: First of all, I want to apologize for taking so long to get back to this story. Those of you that know me know I have a very demanding job, and the last three months have been exceptionally stressful. However, I'm trying to get back into writing regularly. I won't promise you updates on any specific schedule, but I will promise this story will not be abandoned. It is not prewritten, however, so updates will come as quickly (or as slowly) as I write them. For those of you willing to bear with me, thank you. For those who would rather not deal with irregular updates, I hope you'll pop by when the story is finished and give me a shout. :)
As always, reviews are appreciated, and next order of business is to actually reply to the wonderful people who have left me reviews already!
Blaine didn't really want to be shopping. He felt awkward enough as it was that he couldn't afford half the stuff in the store himself. The fact that he was being forced to select the clothes for someone else to purchase was even worse. With his brow furrowed and lips thinly set, he flicked through a rack of stone-washed jeans in search of a pair that might fit – or at least that he could roll up.
"Anything I can help you with?"
Blaine jumped slightly at the smooth, low voice and whipped around to see the most gorgeous pair of bright blue eyes set beneath a mop of long blond curls. The guy was taller than him (well, most were), but Blaine would have been lying if he'd said he wasn't into that. He smirked at Blaine, who seemed struck temporarily dumb. Blaine's eyes flicked to his name-tag and read it: "JEREMIAH," it said, and beneath that "Junior Manager."
"Uh…"
Jeremiah seemed unfazed. He placed a hand on the corner of the rack and cocked his hip, his smirk widening a bit as he asked the teenager, "Looking for a specific size maybe?"
Oh God. Blaine's cheeks flushed pink and his eyes darted away. His mouth felt suddenly dry. Was he imagining the sultry note to the manager's voice. "I – uh…" His brain screamed at him, What is wrong with me? Get a grip!
Jeremiah, however, wasn't about to give up that easily. "Those your dads over there?" he asked, nodding his chin towards the corner of the store where Hiram and LeRoy were apparently discussing the color options of a particular shirt. Blaine's head turned to look quickly, then back to the junior manager.
Something snapped in him and his brows instantly furrowed. "Why?" he asked, his tone suddenly forceful, eyes defensive and guarded.
Blaine's heart began beating faster in his chest. There was hardly another soul in the store, and the other employee, a woman he recalled, seemed to be on break, or working somewhere out of sight. It was just him and this guy, and Blaine's instincts warned him the moment he asked the question. He braced himself, expecting the guy to advance or make some homophobic slur, but instead, the blond guy with the pretty eyes surprised him, laughing off his tone and lifting his hands in mock surrender. "Woah, just asking. Don't get too many gay couples in here, that's all."
Blaine blinked at him, unsure of where it was going.
Jeremiah just continued, his tone softening. "It's nice, you know. To see people out and proud and all. Gives a guy like me something to look forward to." And then he winked. Blaine's eyes widened a little and his breath hitched, then he averted his gaze as his hands tugged on the hem of his shirt. "So how about you let me help you find what you're looking for?"
Blaine swallowed thickly and crossed his arms over his chest. With eyes fixed firmly on the jeans rack, he nodded. "Sure, ok," he said, though his throat felt dry as sand. He forced himself to glance up at Jeremiah, who was smiling at him his eyes locked firmly on Blaine's. The younger boy shivered, but fought the urge to look away from him, even though he felt almost uncomfortably nauseous because of it. Jeremiah was standing much closer than he'd realized, because when the junior manager offered Blaine his hand, he couldn't fully extend his arm between them. "I'm Jeremiah," he introduced himself, clearly fishing for a name.
Blaine took his hand and replied, "Blaine." Jeremiah held onto his hand and shook it longer than strictly necessary, but Blaine couldn't fathom pulling away. This guy was gay – actually gay – he'd told Blaine as much (right?). And even if Blaine wasn't out to him, he couldn't help the warmth that simply knowing there were other people like him in this po-dunk city gave him. That, and there was something really nice – warm and nice and comfortable – about having his hand nestled safely in the gentle grip of another man. When Jeremiah did finally pull away, Blaine felt an instant disappointment and sense of loss, but he did his best to school his features. It was strange, having someone affect him so easily. Maybe it was because Jeremiah was gay, or maybe because of the way he spoke. Or maybe it was just his eyes (God, those eyes…) that made Blaine feel like melting.
The rest of their conversation was strictly business, and Jeremiah helped him search the racks for what he needed. When Hiram and LeRoy came over to join them, Hiram carrying the shirt they'd been discussing both in red and in blue, Jeremiah was equally polite and charming and courteous. He offered to hold their selections up at the desk, gave them access to the fitting rooms, told them a few times to let him know if they needed anything else and more than once, the Berrys took him up on his offer. Blaine spent no less than two hours at the Gap and by the end of it, the boy was wondering whether he might not have been exaggerating the voice and the stare in his head. There wasn't any way that Jeremiah had been flirting, right? A guy like him – older, cooler, confident with a real job…there wasn't any way that he'd be interested in Blaine. In fact, the boy grew increasingly sullen, sure he'd made it up in his head, sure that the junior manager was simply being friendly.
By the time the Berrys were satisfied, and Blaine was back in the jeans, t-shirt and shoes he'd worn to the mall, he was quiet again, his hands buried in his pockets as he followed the pair of chattering men to the front of the store. Jeremiah quickly and efficiently rang up the clothes, removed the security pins, and folded the items neatly into the bags. Blaine, determined not to lose himself in the man's eyes, watched his hands instead. It was almost hypnotizing the way his hands worked, and Blaine was reminded again of the handshake, of warmth and gentle security of having his hand in Jeremiah's.
"That'll be $586.63."
Blaine's eyes snapped up, surprise evident in his face at the total. His heart started racing and he glanced nervously over at Hiram and then LeRoy, the latter of whom slipped a shiny silver card from the open wallet in his hand and offered out to Jeremiah with a serene smile, as if the amount was nothing – as if it was no more than expected. Blaine's eyebrows furrowed and he felt his face grow warm again. His hands clenched in his pockets and he waited, feeling awkward and out of place behind the couple who was buying him over $500 in clothes.
Blaine heard the tearing receipt and Jeremiah's voice again, "Thank you and have a nice day. Oh and Blaine –"
The boy's eyes widened and he looked up at the junior manager who was smiling at him again – smiling the way he had just hours before. "It was nice meeting you. Good luck at your new school. I hope you'll come see us again." With a widening smile, Jeremiah's eyes finally wandered away from Blaine's and to the Berrys, as if to insinuate the last part was meant for all three, but Blaine, who still had his eyes on the junior manager after Hiram and LeRoy said thank you and turned away, and as he himself was grabbing the last of the bags, caught the wink that was thrown his way. It was the wink that made him blush harder, made his mouth dry as he turned to follow the men he'd come with, and made him certain that Jeremiah's request was really meant for him and only him.
He swore he felt Jeremiah watching his back as he left. He wanted to look back again, to give him a flirty smirk or a wink in return, but instead he just walked out, sticking closer to his dads – to the Berrys, rather – than might have been strictly required. He said nothing, his brows furrowed firmly in thought, but inside his chest his heart was thundering fast. Jeremiah liked him. Or at least, Jeremiah wanted to see him again. (He did say that, didn't he?) Jeremiah, the guy with the gorgeous eyes, had held his hand and winked at him, and suddenly, it took all the self-control that Blaine had to keep from grinning for no apparent reason.
It was only once all three men were buckled into Hiram Berry's Explorer that Blaine spoke again. The pair of men in the front of the car was uncharacteristically quiet as Hiram turned the key in the ignition, and before either man had a chance to think of a topic to fill the silence, a voice from the back floated forward, quiet but clear. "Thanks," Blaine said, "for the clothes." He looked between the two men, then turned his gaze out the window, nodding only slightly when LeRoy replied, "You're welcome, Blaine," though the shock was as clear in his voice at it was on Hiram Berry's face. Hiram had actually opened his mouth to say just that, but had hesitated. He looked at his husband who gave him a look in return. They'd noticed the way that Blaine had blushed in the store. Hiram had even felt a slight tinge of protective anger that the junior manager said Blaine's name at all.
He'd looked between the guy behind the counter – Jeremy, he thought it was – and Blaine, seen the smile on Jeremy's face and the tint of pink on Blaine's cheeks, but then the junior manager looked at he and his husband as well and he saw no more than a cheerful, professional courtesy in his expression. Perhaps I'm over-reacting… But one look at LeRoy had told him his husband had seen it, too. Why it bothered him he wasn't sure, but it was probably the blush in Blaine's cheeks that gave him pause more than anything. Had the manager hit on him? Made some suggestion when neither parent was there to hear? Surely he would have seen something other than blushing if Jeremy had. His son had seemed shy, almost anxious, but not upset or angry or frightened or worse, disgusted. He wondered what it meant – if maybe he had it backwards and it was Blaine that had the crush.
He glanced in the rearview mirror and adjusted it slightly to see the side of Blaine's face. The teenager had his head resting in his hand which was propped on the door just beneath the window. His eyes, like always were watching the scenery, his expression blank. Hiram wondered what the boy was thinking but didn't dare even consider asking. Instead he readjusted the mirror and smiled to himself at the thought that his son might in fact be harboring a crush. It didn't really matter to him if Blaine was gay or straight or bisexual, but he knew how wonderful being in love could really be. He wanted that for Blaine, the way that he wanted that for Rachel. One day.