So, I am back, tentatively, from hiatus. I've had a lot going on in my real life these past few years. I had a death in the family and a job change and a big move and with all of that happening, something had to give. That something turned out to be my writing. I am slowly building this story back up towards a climax/conclusion and would like to round it out and finish it up within the next 20-25 chapters. Thanks to all of you who have read, and thanks, too, to all of you who will read from this point forward. I really appreciate your understanding and all your support. I hope you enjoy. 3
"It's right up this way." Jeremiah turned to look over his shoulder and flashed Blaine a bright smile. "I hope you don't mind. I feel so silly – forgetting my wallet like that."
Blaine felt his heart lurch. "No," he replied quickly, "not at all. It's totally fine." He stepped after Jeremiah as the older man led him up two flights of stairs. He supposed he could have waited in the car, but he'd been curious to see where Jeremiah lived. One day, after he graduated (or maybe even before…if he could manage to afford it) Blaine wanted to live in his very own apartment.
"So how long have you lived here?" he asked.
"Uh…nine months?" Jeremiah responded with a question in his tone. "Somewhere around there. It's a lot nicer than my last place. And I don't have to deal with roommates." The blond let out a throaty chuckle. He came across so cool. So grown up.
Blaine wanted so badly for Jeremiah to see him the same way. He laughed, "Yeah, totally. I can't wait to live on my own."
Jeremiah reached the door bearing the number 306. He took out a jangling bunch of keys and inserted one into the lock. "Yeah? Well come in and check my place out. Maybe we can be neighbors one day." There was something smooth and sultry in his tone, and his eyes flashed as he looked back at Blaine. He pushed open the door and waved the boy in ahead of him. "After you."
Kurt scanned the day's appointments, finding the one he was looking for, and erasing it with the back of the pencil. "Yes, right – you said Monday at 6?" he said into the receiver resting in the crook of his shoulder.
He turned the page and jotted down the name and phone number. "Yes, I've got you down."
The bell rang and Kurt looked up to see a man and a woman enter the small reception area of Hummel Tire & Lube. "Thank you, bye-bye," he said to the woman on the phone who'd called him "ma'am" at least twice and hung up the phone.
"Can I help you?" he asked the two people. One of them, the woman, pulled what looked like a wallet out of her coat pocket and opened it. Kurt's eyes fell on the badge, and his right eyebrow lifted in question.
"We're looking for Blaine Anderson. Is he here?" she asked. Her partner, the man, said nothing.
Kurt straightened. "Who, may I say, is asking?" he asked.
The woman's lips pulled into a tight smile. She removed her sunglasses. "I'm Detective Ward. This is my partner, Detective Simmons." The man nodded in greeting. "We just have a few questions for Mr. Anderson."
"Have a seat," Jeremiah said. Blaine, obliging, sat down on the well-worn sofa while he waited. The older man disappeared through a door and Blaine could hear cabinets opening and closing, and the clink of glass. When Jeremiah emerged, Blaine stood, expecting to see the blond man with wallet in hand, ready to leave for their date. Instead, Blaine noticed, he appeared with two glasses containing what appeared to be orange juice.
Jeremiah held one of the glasses out, his lips quirked in a crooked grin. "I thought – a toast." Blaine, surprised, took the offered glass. "To…living without roommates," Jeremiah finally said after a moment of thoughtful consideration, and clinked Blaine's glass with his own.
Blaine chuckled nervously, but met him halfway. "To living without roommates." He took a sip of the drink. It tasted like orange juice, but there was something…peachy, maybe?
"What's in this?" he asked lightly.
Jeremiah gave him a questioning look. "You don't like it?" he asked, sounding almost hurt.
"No! No, I mean – it's good." As if to prove the point, he took another large gulp of the fruity drink.
Jeremiah smiled. "It's called a fuzzy naval. Peach and orange. Get it?" He laughed.
It took Blaine a moment, but then he got it, and he chuckled. "Yeah. Yeah, I get it." He sipped again.
"Here – sit. Take a load off," Jeremiah said, dropping down onto the couch and patting the seat beside him.
Blaine's heart fluttered in his chest as he settled back down on the couch. He felt himself smile and took another drink to cover it up, not wanting to seem too eager, but when he looked up at Jeremiah, he met the older man's grin with one of his own. "You have a really…really nice smile," Jeremiah said, his voice deep and throaty.
Blaine felt a shudder creep up his spine. He went to take another drink, but his glass was empty. His throat felt strangely dry. Jeremiah was suddenly so close to him, though Blaine hadn't noticed him moving in. He felt his breath catch at the proximity. And before Blaine could even so much as exhale, Jeremiah's lips were on his own, the man's large hand combing roughly through Blaine's curls.