III
"Father snores as his wife gets into her dressing gown, picks up the letter that's lying there. Standing alone at the top of the stairs, she breaks down and cries to her husband, 'Daddy, our baby's gone.'"
-She's Leaving Home
It turns out that Blaine and Kurt have more in common than he could have ever imagined.
Kurt loves clothes and Broadway, music and good food. They talk about movies and recipes and musicals until finally, Kurt puts on his West Side Story record and they clean up the apartment as they sing along.
Kurt's voice is unlike anything he's ever heard, but Blaine just chalks it up as another beautiful thing about him. He's already lost count of the items on his list.
By the time Sebastian gets home around 6:00, Blaine and Kurt are drinking coffee at the table while dinner cooks.
"Hey, babes," Sebastian greets them both, smiling between the two boys at the table as he toes off his shoes. He pads over and kisses their heads in turn before taking a beer from the refrigerator and joining them. "So, what happened around here today?"
Kurt launches into a full account of their afternoon and Blaine just sips his coffee and listens, a small smiles playing on his lips. It's warm, domestic and comfortable, and he feels himself getting lost in it. Sitting with Kurt and Sebastian, he feels like he can actually breathe, doesn't feel choked or stifled. And it's perfect—God, so perfect—to be sitting like this and seeing a life so vibrant and warm, so bright and loving. He wants it for himself, wishes more than anything that he was actually a part of it instead of just a visitor.
"Will you be staying with us again tonight, Blaine?" Sebastian asks. "You're more than welcome to if you want to."
And he wants to stay more than anything, to sit down and never leave, but "I can't. I've got school tomorrow." He hears the bitterness in his voice.
"Oh, that's right," Sebastian remembers. "You're still in high school, aren't you? How old are you?"
"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen at the end of the month though."
Sebastian laughs and gives him a warm smile. "I keep forgetting how young you are. You seem so much older. I turn twenty next month."
Concern touches Kurt's face and he turns to fully face Blaine from the sink. "But you're staying for dinner, right?"
"I should really be getting back—"
"Blaine, you helped make the food, you have to stay and eat with us," Kurt pouts adorably and there's no way Blaine could refuse. Sebastian watches his expression and laughs knowingly. Clearly he's powerless to the expression as well.
After dinner, despite all of Blaine's protests, Sebastian drives him home, Kurt stretched out across the back seat wearing a pair of stylishly oversized sunglasses. Worry touches his face and he asks, "Sweetie, are you sure you're going to be okay? I don't want him hurting you."
"He was just mad before—"
"I don't care. He shouldn't have put his hands on you." There's steel lining Kurt's voice, giving it an uncharacteristically hard edge. When he leans forward and brushes gentle fingers across the bruise marring Blaine's cheek, his voice is soft again. "No one deserves to be hurt, Blaine. Especially by someone who is supposed to love and support you."
Blaine sighs and leans into Kurt's touch. "I know." It's all he can think to say.
The car slows to a stop at the end of his driveway and Sebastian turns to him with serious eyes. "You'll call us if he tries to hurt you again." It's not a question. "I'm serious. Any time of the day or night. We'll come get you."
"Thank you, guys. For everything," Blaine says by way of an answer. "I am so glad to know you."
He opens the door and steps out, meeting Kurt by the side of the car. Warm arms wrap around him and he realizes that he can't remember the last time someone hugged him so he hugs back tightly, loving the feeling of safety and care that comes from the embrace and then Sebastian is there, pulling him close to whisper in his ear.
"I know what you're walking into. I've been there, but I didn't have anywhere to go. Kurt is beautiful and amazing and I love him with all my heart, but he doesn't understand what it's like to try and have to be the golden boy. He doesn't know what it's like to have to pretend every single day and try as hard you can to live up to someone's expectations. To be trapped in a family that tries to bend and shape you to make you want they want you to be. Just know that you're not trapped anymore. Kurt and I are a phone call away and you can come over and decompress, okay?"
Sebastian pulls him into another hug before clapping him on the shoulder. "Remember what I said."
"I will, Seb," Blaine says. He touches Kurt's shoulder softly as he gets into the passenger's seat. "Thanks."
"Blaine! Get in the house! Now!"
It's clear from the look on Kurt's face that he doesn't want to leave, but Blaine gives him a small "what can you do?" smile and turns back toward the house. He's thankful that Sebastian starts the car and pulls away then, because there's no way they wouldn't hear the shouting that was sure to follow.
Once he's in bed, he finally lets a few tears escape at the injustice of it all.
"Oh! You were with your friends." His father's voice was cold and mocking. "Do you know what theyare, Blaine? At least one of them is for sure. The flouncy little queer doesn't even have the decencyto hide it. They way he was dressed, you'd think he was trying to be Audrey Hepburn or something. Disgusting."
The older Anderson shuddered in distaste before pointing seriously at Blaine. "If you ever start acting like that, I'll beat it right out of you. You've not brought home any girls yet, but I'm not going to jump to any conclusions."
The threat in his father's voice was as clear, sharp, and cold as ice. "You're young and I get that. Boys rebel when they get to be your age. Cooper did it with a leather jacket and a motorcycle, but you'd better get your head on straight, son, because if you don't, we're going to have a problem. I don't want to see you with those bent boys again. They'll make you sick like they are."
"They're not sick, dad," Blaine defended, knowing full well the futility of his argument. "They love each other."
His father's cold laugh made his skin crawl. "Is that what those perverts told you? That's how it starts, Blaine. They convince you that they're 'normal', but they're not. They're sick and unnatural. They should be locked away and treated until they're well, but I will not have you around them so they can infect you with their disease."
He wonders what his father would do should he ever find out before shuddering and deciding that he can never tell him. He'd hoped that one day he'd be able to tell his parents, but he lets go of the dream. It can never, ever happen.
At least at school the next day his mind is occupied. Well, at first.
At first, he's able to focus on his work, able to take notes and direction like the obedient school boy he's been trained to be before it hits him. It's all training. Conditioning for the rest of his life. Training him to sit silently with his head down and follow instruction without protest. His stomach twists in disgust and his eyes scan the deadly silent room. A sea of perfect uniformity.
Wes is training to take over his family's accounting business and David is going to be an advertising executive just like his father. It's a chain, a vicious circle, and it makes Blaine want to tear off his uniform and run. He can't just be another private school boy groomed for a life he doesn't want. He swallows hard and finishes his assignment with the world in a clearer focus.
He goes directly to Kurt and Sebastian's apartment after school, driving this time.
It's just Kurt again and they get high and listen to music as Blaine explains his epiphany. He's stretched out on the couch with his head on Kurt's leg, eyes closed as long fingers card through his hair.
"Seb went to a prep school," Kurt explains. "He graduated with all A's. Valedictorian, I believe, but he hated it. Of course, Seb never did well with structure. You've got two weeks left and you're free."
"I'm not free. After that it's Princeton and a partnership in my dad's firm." He hears how distressed he sounds and takes a breath. "I can't do that, Kurt. It will kill me."
Kurt's sweet voice is soft and simple. "Then don't."
And then Blaine kisses him.
If only it could be that easy.
—x—
He doesn't get another chance to visit the apartment for over a week. He races home from school on Friday, intent on changing out of his uniform and going to help Kurt clean. (He'd managed to sneak a phone call on Wednesday when his parents were at a business dinner and was able to talk for almost an hour before having to rush off the phone. The last thing he heard was Kurt's "Keep your chin up, sweetie." before he had to hang up.)
But when he gets home from school on Friday, his father is waiting on the sofa. Which has never happened before and can't possibly be a good sign now.
"Come here, son," his father says, jovial and easy. Two adjectives Blaine has never before attributed to the man. "Come sit with your old man."
Blaine crosses the room in a daze and drops down next to his "old man". He's already nervous and he's sure he's not hiding it well. "What's going on, dad?" he asks as easily as he can manage.
"This came today. Special delivery." His father holds up an envelope with the Princeton crest emblazoned on the front and Blaine feels his stomach roll and drop out through his feet. "Said it should have been here weeks ago."
The envelope is already torn open and his father is beaming with pride, which can only mean one thing. He swallows the acid rising in his throat and fights back bitter tears. "I got in."
His father slaps him on the knee and lets out a small, victorious sound. "Oh, I can't wait to rub this in that smug Jenkins' face. Not one but both of my sons on a full-ride to Princeton! I'm going to get you set up for a summer internship just like I did for Cooper. Then you'll have a leg up over the other boys who—"
"No." It's a quiet exhale that he didn't even mean to voice, but he's shaking under the weight of its truth.
"What did you just say?" The shock on his father's face looks ready to give way to fury at any second and Blaine swallows convulsively.
He hears Sebastian's words in his head. "Be confident in your path and tell him you're not going to do what he wants you to do."
"I said, 'no'." It's now or never. He can't let himself down. Not anymore. "Dad, I don't want to be a lawyer. I want—"
"I know what you want!" His father shouts, jumping to his feet. "Do you think that I'm stupid?! That I don't see?! But no son of mine is going to parade around like a limp-wristed fairy just because he's got a damn song in his heart!" He's towering over Blaine, but Blaine can't find it in himself to be intimidated.
"I'm sick of you telling me that everything I love is pointless because it's not!" Blaine's on his feet now. "Nothing I love will ever be pointless, because it makes me happy. Music makes me happy. Performing makes me happy. And Kurt and Sebastian make me happy. The things I love make me love myself, and I'm sick to death of you trying to belittle that. I'm not going to Princeton. I'm not going to be a lawyer. And music will always be important to me!"
His father is speechless—a definite first—as Blaine strides past him, going up to his room, packing a bag full of anything that matters and going back downstairs to find his father still standing in the living room. He shoulders his bag and opens the front door. "I'm sorry that I'll never be the son you wanted, but I'm done trying. I have to live my own life because I'm goddamn sick of living yours."
He slams the door behind him, and stepping outside, he is free.
—x—
"Blaine, sweetheart, you're here!" Kurt exclaims from the doorway before his brow furrows with worry. "And you have a bag. Uh-oh. What happened?"
He lets himself be pulled inside and fussed over for a minute, Kurt taking his bag from his shoulder and setting it down before leading them both to the couch and taking Blaine's hands, rubbing soothing circles over his knuckles.
"Kurt, relax," Blaine tries, but Kurt doesn't seem to be willing to be calmed so he continues anyway. "I told my dad that I wasn't going to live his life anymore. That I loved music, loved performing, and loved you and Seb—"
"Oh, honey, we love you, too" Kurt can't seem to help himself and he leans forward and presses a soft but electrifying kiss to Blaine's lips.
Blaine squeezes Kurt's hands. "I told him that the things I love will always be important to me and that I was sick of him trying to shame me for them."
A warm, proud smile graces Kurt's countenance and he kisses Blaine a bit deeper, more lingering. "I am so proud of you, sweetheart."
"Why are we proud?" Sebastian's voice comes from the doorway where he's kicking off his boots. "Kurt, your dad wants you to call him." Sebastian drops down beside them on the couch after pressing a kiss to the top of their heads. "Hey, Blaine."
Kurt waves a dismissive hand. "Yeah, I'll call him in a minute," he rushes. "Seb, Blaine stood up to his dad."
Sebastian looks troubled. "Are you alright?" His voice is serious and Blaine nods. "Run away?" Blaine nods again.
Kurt smiles hugely. "Well, looks like we've got a roommate," he says brightly.
"Good," Sebastian quips, smirking deviously. "It will be nice to finally be around someone with good taste in music and doesn't snore." There's a teasing lilt to his voice and Kurt sticks his nose up.
"My taste is impeccable," he defends before smacking Sebastian. "And I most definitely do not snore."
Sebastian laughs as he gets up to get a beer from the refrigerator. "He snores and he sticks his ice cold feet right against your legs when he sleeps."
And Blaine can't help but smile at the petulance that radiates off Kurt as he drops the needle on his Sound of Music record and pulls Blaine up to dance. They both sing along to the record and laugh at Sebastian's sigh of, "Dear Jesus, not you too."
He lets Kurt spin him even though it's the wrong music for it before he's being swept off his feet by Sebastian and dropped on the couch, breathless and still laughing as Kurt watches, still dancing happily. Sebastian pulls Blaine into his arms and kisses him. "God, you're perfect," he says on a breath.
Blaine glows under the praise and Kurt dances over, kissing them sweet and chaste on the lips. "You're both perfect." Another kiss. "My perfect loves."
In Sebastian's arms, watching the most beautiful, wonderful boy he's ever seen dance careless (and more than a little flirty) around the living room, Blaine finally knows where he belongs and what it means to be truly loved and happy.
A/N: Just one part left after this one. Boy, this story went fast, didn't it? Reviews are always appreciated! :)