It's been a while since my last update, but four AP classes and writer's block will do that to you. Sorry for the wait. I hope the length of this chapter makes up for it. Now, a prompt from 6Amaya6:
I would love to see a prompt where Blaine introduces Kurt to his parents, but they're against it, and Blaine just yells that he is in love with Kurt.
The title of this chapter is inspired by "To Build A Home" by Cinematic Orchestra. It's a beautiful song.
Build A Home
Blaine yawned and tried to focus on the thick History textbook in front of him. He glanced at the clock mounted on the wall of Dalton's library, and moaned when he realized that he'd only read one sentence since the last time he'd looked at the clock - seven minutes ago. The lines of too-small print in front of him seemed to blur until they were indistinguishable, and Blaine sighed and yawned again, crossing his arms over his History book and resting his head on them, letting his eyes close. A five minute break couldn't hurt.
"Blaine," Kurt said sternly from across the long wooden table.
"Mmm?" Blaine hummed, raising his head again to look at his boyfriend, who'd finished his History homework half an hour ago and moved on to Latin.
"I know you hate History, but putting it off won't help. Don't procrastinate."
"Ugh, you're supposed to be my boyfriend, not my mother," Blaine complained, turning his attention back to his homework despite his protest.
"Speaking of mothers…" Kurt said slowly after a minute.
Blaine could feel Kurt's gaze on him, and looked up. "Yes?" he prompted Kurt to continue.
"You've met all the people who are important to me," Kurt said, his expression eager for some reason. "All my friends from the New Directions, and Dad, and Carole…" Kurt trailed off again and stared at Blaine, his face expectant. Blaine tensed and bit his lip, hoping that the conversation wasn't headed where it seemed to be going. When he remained quiet, Kurt continued, "When am I going to get to meet your important people?"
Blaine's heart sank as his fears were fulfilled. He knew this conversation was going to have to happen eventually, but he hadn't wanted it to be so soon… "You already know them. Wes and David, and the other Warblers - those are my friends," Blaine deflected, plastering the charming smile that he always hid behind onto his face.
It didn't work; Kurt only frowned. "You know that's not what I mean," Kurt said rather reproachfully. "Your parents. You never even talk about them. I just thought that now that we're together… I thought you would want me to meet the people you care about most." A touch of insecurity crept into Kurt's voice.
Blaine regretted his answer immediately. Of course Kurt would assume that the hesitation was because there was something wrong with him. "No, Kurt, don't think like that," Blaine quickly assured him, wondering how he could explain. "I just don't think you meeting my parents would be the best idea." Kurt was looking at him too hard, waiting for him to elaborate. Blaine dropped his gaze and mumbled, "My parents aren't Burt and Carole… they're not…" Blaine stopped suddenly. He couldn't say it, not to Kurt, whose family were the most accepting people he'd ever met. Kurt wouldn't be able to understand, no matter how much he wanted to. "You know what? Never mind," Blaine said shortly, his face closing off.
Suddenly Kurt reached over and laid his cool, smooth hand over Blaine's, loosening the fingers that he'd unconsciously clenched into a fist on top of the table. "Sweetie?" Kurt asked gently.
Blaine bit his lip harder. This was bad. He and Kurt weren't big on pet names, and only saved them for the difficult moments -the anniversary of Kurt's mom's death, Pavarotti's burial. Blaine took a deep breath. "My parents aren't as open as yours about the fact that I'm gay," he mumbled, hating himself for being ashamed of his own family. "They know, of course, but I never told them I had a boyfriend." Blaine finally got the courage to look at Kurt.
Kurt's eyes darkened just a bit. "Blaine, if I'd known I wouldn't have flaunted my relationship with my dad so much."
"No, it's fine. Burt is great."
Kurt's eyes narrowed. "But your dad isn't."
"I didn't say that!" Blaine snapped.
"Okay, sorry," Kurt murmured soothingly, stroking Blaine's hand. "If you don't want me to meet them, that's fine. I didn't realize…"
Blaine shook his head forcefully. He didn't want Kurt to think of him differently now. "No, there's nothing to 'realize,' I just…. I-" Blaine couldn't find any words to say what he wanted to without outright lying. He could hardly tell Kurt that it was "fine" when it was anything but.
Kurt smiled reassuringly. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."
Blaine forced a small smile onto his lips and looked back at his History book, the silence between the two of them no longer comfortable. He couldn't see the words in his textbook at all anymore, but kept his gaze fixed upon it anyway, clinging to the feeling of Kurt's fingers absently stroking across his tense fist.
On the next Saturday, Blaine found himself standing before the door to Kurt's room, willing himself to knock. He took a deep breath and rapped lightly on the door. There's no need to be so nervous, he tried to convince himself. It's just Kurt. Regardless of what he wanted to believe, Blaine couldn't keep himself from jumping slightly when Kurt opened the door.
"Hey! I was hoping I'd see you this morning."
Kurt's melodious voice was instantly soothing. Kurt was so beautiful when he smiled… Blaine refocused on the task at hand and asked hesitantly, "Can I come in?" His fingers anxiously worried the cuff of the dark green shirt he was wearing.
"You know you don't have to ask," Kurt answered easily, already turning away and sitting back down at his desk. Blaine stood awkwardly in middle of the room, trying to get himself to speak and not just dawdle there like a fool. Kurt glanced up at him. "You okay?" he asked casually. "You've been acting kind of off since… you know…" Kurt trailed off, staring hard at Blaine.
Yes. Blaine knew. They hadn't brought up the conversation in the library since that day, but Blaine almost wished that they had. It would make what he was about to say a lot easier if it hadn't become an unspoken taboo. Blaine swallowed. "You're not doing anything this weekend, right?" Blaine asked, ignoring Kurt's question. Kurt would get his answer soon enough…
"Not unless you count studying for Monday's Chem test," Kurt grimaced, holding up his massive textbook.
Blaine couldn't help but calm down slightly; he actually liked Chemistry. But Kurt didn't, and Blaine suspected that Kurt's comment was intended partly to relax him. "Well, then can you come for a drive with me?" Blaine asked, refusing to look at Kurt.
"A drive?" Kurt's voice was wary. "Where to?"
Blaine swallowed and opened and shut his mouth, but didn't speak.
"To your parents' place, right?" Kurt guessed carefully.
"Yeah," Blaine managed to get out, cursing himself for having to be so concerned about this. He was just going home for a weekend; it wasn't a big deal. Or at least it shouldn't be.
"You don't ha-"
"Kurt Hummel, don't you dare tell me that I don't have to do this," Blaine said sharply, finding his voice again. "Because if you finish that sentence then I won't do it, and I need to. For myself, not just you," he added, anticipating and responding to Kurt's next statement before Kurt could talk.
"I'd still love yo-"
"Kurt! I know, okay? I've thought about it."
"Okay. As long as you're sure."
"I am."
"Then it's a good thing I found your favorite Pink CD yesterday, because we'll need it for the trip," Kurt said lightly. He extended his hand for Blaine to take hold of, and Blaine genuinely smiled for the first time that morning.
"You still want to do this?"
Blaine shot Kurt a withering look. "Kurt, we're parked in the driveway of my parents' house after a two hour drive, and you think I'm just going to change my mind?"
Kurt shrugged. "I'm being supportive," he defended himself.
Blaine rolled his eyes, not showing how much he appreciated Kurt's understanding. "Courage, right?" he asked, pressing his palms together to keep his hands from shaking.
Kurt knew that there was no reassuring answer he could give, so instead he just rubbed up and down Blaine's arm once. Blaine got out of his car and came around to the passenger side to hold Kurt's door for him. "Always the gentleman," Kurt remarked, his eyes smoldering at Blaine's. He reached out and made to grab Blaine's hand, but froze when Blaine stuffed his hand quickly into his pocket.
"Not now. Not yet," Blaine whispered.
"Sorry."
Blaine only grimaced in response, and led the way up the flagstone path to the front door, rubbing his sweaty hands on the thighs of his jeans. He pulled his key from his pocket, and let himself in. Instantly he was hit by the smell of home. Oddly, no matter how uncomfortable he was there, that smell would never cease to be comforting. "Mom? Dad?" he called hesitantly. "Kurt and I are here."
There was the sound of hurried footsteps, and then Blaine's mother blustered into him like a whirlwind, hugging him close to her. "Honey, it's been so long since you've visited," she whispered into his ear.
Blaine hugged back and looked over her shoulder to Kurt, who was averting his gaze, clearly trying not intrude on the moment. Blaine smiled gently despite his nervousness. That was so like Kurt.
Another set of footsteps approached, and Blaine looked up to see his father, who reached out and mussed Blaine's hair. "It's been too long," he nodded, his smile the same shape as Blaine's but not as warm.
"Dad! My hair!" Blaine protested, ducking.
His father's smiled faded. "Blaine, normal boys don't care about hair," his father reminded.
Blaine tensed. Already it was starting. That meaningless word. Normal. As if there was something wrong with him.
"Blaine, it's only polite to introduce us to your company," his mother broke in.
Blaine nodded. "Of course. Kurt, this is my mom and dad." He gestured between them and turned back to his parents. "This is Kurt Hummel."
"It's so nice Blaine's made some close friends at Dalton besides that singing group," his father said to Kurt.
Blaine tried not to sigh. How many times had he told his dad about how great a singer Kurt was? "Dad, Kurt's a Warbler, too," he reminded patiently.
"Oh." There was an awkward moment, and then Blaine's father said, "Well, I'm glad you've made another friend, anyway." Now was it. The perfect moment. The instant to speak up and say, "Well, Kurt's not just a friend." But Blaine couldn't. His vocal chords wouldn't work. He was staring wildly around the room, frantic, when he felt Kurt take hold of his hand gently but firmly.
"I'm glad, too, Sir, because your son is a kind person and a wonderful boyfriend to me," Kurt said quietly. His voice seemed to echo a thousand times louder in Blaine's ears. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson's faces suddenly hardened, their hospitality chilled.
"Blaine." His father's voice was low, but lethal, dangerous.
Blaine swallowed and hung on to the physical sensation of Kurt squeezing his hand so hard that it hurt. "Yeah, Dad?"
What happened next was not something that Blaine had ever expected. "Don't call me 'Dad,'" Mr. Anderson said flatly, his voice frighteningly detached.
Blaine could only stammer stupidly, "What?"
"You're no son of mine." The words were like a blow to Blaine's gut. "At first, you know, we thought we could fix you. It was supposed to be temporary, a phase. It was supposed to go away. But instead you're bringing home a wisp of a boy whose voice sounds like a girl's, and expecting us to just accept that he's your boyfriend!" Mr. Anderson snarled, his voice rising angrily.
Blaine shook with fury at his father's words. He'd come to accept the stinging remarks when they were directed at him, but where did his father think he could get off talking like that about Kurt? Only the increased pressure of Kurt's palm against Blaine's made him hold his tongue.
But Mr. Anderson was continuing, terrible hatred seeping through his voice. "You're not even trying to fix what's wrong with yourself, Blaine. I can't even recognize you." He was yelling now.
Something inside Blaine snapped as he saw the disgust in his own father's face, and suddenly he was screaming, "That's because I've had to pretend to be someone else around you! Don't you get it? I'm in love with Kurt! He understands me like you never will, and he loves me, too, and nothing about that is wrong!" Blaine's voice cracked on the last word, and he tore his hand from Kurt's and pressed it against his mouth, fighting the pained scream that seemed to be tearing at the inside of his throat.
"You're not who I raised you to be," Mr. Anderson spat coldly. "You're not the son I thought I had."
"Fine," Blaine choked out, wishing more than anything to sound like he didn't care, to make his father think that he could brush off his parents' concerns as easily as they ignored his. "That's fine." He'd never said anything less true in his life. Blaine whirled around, wanting desperately to leave and hide and never have to face his parents or Kurt again. "I'm going."
And then Blaine was out the door, running, ignoring his car parked in the driveway, stumbling blindly as he tried to escape his own mind. This is what you do, a cruel voice in his head spoke up. You run away. You ran away from public school, and you're running now. Coward. Blaine tried to ignore the suffocating feeling that wrapped around his chest like a band of iron and the burning in his eyes. He didn't know which was worse, his father's words, or his mother's passive, uncaring silence. They hadn't even bothered to try to stop him. Blaine made it down three blocks before he became conscious of how harsh the biting February wind was, and he doubled over, clutching at his abdomen, trying to breathe. He gradually became aware of running feet crunching on the snow behind him, and knew it was Kurt without having to look.
He didn't turn when he heard Kurt come to a stop behind him. Instead, he tried to even out his breathing, keeping his eyes shut tight against the world. When Kurt laid a hand on his shoulder, Blaine only stiffened and clenched his jaw, reminded of how Burt always touched Kurt's shoulder when he was upset, and how his own father had never done that for him.
"It's freezing and you're shivering. Do you want my jacket?" Kurt offered softly.
"I'm shivering because I'm mad," Blaine growled honestly, burying his face in his hands.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything to your parents. I should have let you do it on your own terms."
Blaine gritted his teeth. How could Kurt possibly come to the conclusion that this was somehow his fault? "Kurt, I swear, if you apologize I'm going to lose my mind."
"Okay." Kurt seemed to be hesitating, and then he asked almost timidly, "Won't you at least look at me?"
"No." Blaine knew he was being childish, but he couldn't bring himself to face Kurt.
"Fine. Don't think that'll get rid of me, though." Kurt's slender arms wrapped around Blaine's waist from behind, and his chin rested on Blaine's shoulder, tipping his head against Blaine's neck. Blaine leaned back into Kurt's touch, glad to have someone standing so solidly behind him.
The embrace pulled Blaine from his blazing fury and turned it into pain. Suddenly craving physical contact, he whirled around so fast that both he and Kurt nearly lost their balance. He flung his arms around Kurt and tightened them around his boyfriend's waist, drawing their bodies flush against each other and hiding his face in Kurt's neck, which turned out to be a lot more comfortable than hiding by himself.
"I was so stupid to think anything other than this could happen," Blaine whispered eventually.
Kurt made sympathetic noises in the back of his throat, but said nothing until a few moments later, when he asked, "Are you ready to go back yet?"
Blaine drew away in surprise. "I think they were pretty clear about not wanting to see me anytime soon," Blaine said softly.
Kurt's face showed genuine confusion. "I know that's what they said, but they didn't mean it. They'll forgive you. Dads always do."
Blaine shook his head. "Like he said, he's not my dad anymore."
"Everyone has a dad, Blaine."
"That's not true," Blaine muttered, trying not to sound bitter. "Everybody has a father. It's not the same thing. I know he'll eventually act like it never happened - but it did and I can't get rid of that. They're not my family anymore."
"Blaine Warbler Anderson, stop that. I'll be your family," Kurt said, his voice taking on an oddly scolding tone. "You should know that."
Blaine's eyes warmed a little, and he almost smiled. "I do know."
"Don't you forget it," Kurt said, placing his hands on his slim hips with such a familiar, dignified air that Blaine had to chuckle slightly.
"Let's go home," Blaine said suddenly, sounding rather resigned but no longer furious or tortured.
"I thought you said -"
"Home, Kurt," Blaine repeated, stressing the word. "Dalton is my home. Let's go." Blaine leaned forward and pressed a very short, chaste kiss to Kurt's lips. "You're going to need my help studying for that Chemistry test," he murmured, brushing his lips against Kurt's again.
Kurt's delicate skin took on a rosy glow, and Blaine finally smiled. "Seeing that" - he rubbed the back of his fingers against Kurt's warm cheek - "manages to make everything right," he whispered. The words may not have been entirely true in that moment - with his father's voice still echoing in Blaine's head - but Blaine knew that they would be eventually, and that was all that mattered.
Again, I wasn't sure about the characterization for this chapter, especially for Blaine. The show hasn't developed his character as much as I'd like, so I decided to present a new side of him here because I thought it would fit the situation. I hope you all liked it. I struggled a lot with this chapter, and re-read it so many times that it all sounds the same now, so I apologize for any mistakes. By the way, the tedium of History homework and love of Chemistry is from my own experience because I had no idea what would interest Blaine. Anyway, this is the last prompt I have as of right now, so if you want more of this story, prompt!