Chapter 7

A/N: Okay, I suck at updating. I really suck. However, people have still been reading, reviewing and adding this to their alerts/favourites, so thank you thank you THANK YOU! You are all totally awesome and I love you.

I don't own Glee. But I did see the live show. Darren Criss is… there are no words.

Oh, I changed the genre to Romance/Angst. I honestly don't know how I got this far without making "Angst" a genre. I mean, really. This story is just angst-tastic.

Here we go!

Disaster.

That was the only word which could truly describe Blaine Anderson's life right now. He had lied to the two people who mattered most to him. He could feel the life he had built up over the last year crashing down around him. And it was all his own fault.

Rolling onto his side, he allowed his gaze to linger on the three photo frames which adorned Jesse's bedside table. Okay, so maybe it wasn't the best idea for him to be lying despondently on Jesse's bed, considering the circumstances, but it was so familiar and comforting. Plus, it smelled like Jesse, and Blaine wanted to memorise exactly what he smelled like. Was that so crazy? … Of course it was. Whatever. He needed to remember him. This might be the last time he ever saw his best friend, for all he knew. Not that they would still be best friends after this weekend. Distant memories, perhaps. Acquaintances who would occasionally bump into one another unexpectedly, making polite small talk and pretending to forget about all of the hurt they had caused one another all those years ago.

Shifting closer to the edge of the double bed, Blaine propped himself up on one elbow and looked at the photographs more closely. The largest picture was of Jesse clutching a large trophy after winning his fourth consecutive National Championship. Behind him stood the rest of Vocal Adrenaline, every one of them smiling smugly and cockily. Jesse seemed to be the only one who had an actual sense of achievement about his expression. He looked genuinely delighted. Of course, that could have easily been merely Blaine's warped view of Jesse. He always put him on a pedestal. Maybe if he had just… No. Blaine couldn't think about this now. He turned his attention to the other photos.

One was of the two friends at the St. James vacation house one summer. Blaine couldn't remember that day clearly. He looked about ten years old. They were both in shorts and T-shirts. They basically matched. He chuckled as he recalled just how similar they used to be. Two leaves growing on the same branch – identical, yet one slightly bigger than the other. But one of those leaves had blown away and landed somewhere completely different. Blaine was stuck on this branch, being blown this way and that by the wind yet never hard enough to allow him to escape.

The other picture was smaller than the other two, and it was facing the wall rather than out into the room. Blaine frowned, and reached out to turn the wooden frame around so that he could see the photo it encased.

"Oh," he whispered. His frown grew more pronounced as he stared at the girl in the picture. Jesse had his arm around her; he was looking affectionately at her as she flashed a dazzling smile towards the camera. Her long brown hair fell beautifully down past her shoulders. Her huge brown eyes sparkled. She looked so happy. More importantly, Jesse looked positively joyful. He never smiled at Blaine like that. He only smirked, or sniggered sardonically. But then, Blaine was no Rachel Berry.

Why did Jesse have this picture in his room? He had assured Blaine that she meant nothing to him. He was only pretending to like her because Shelby forced him to. He had never really… liked her. Had he? Had he been lying to Blaine all this time too? Was Rachel the reason why Jesse came back to Lima?

Blaine's mind was now racing with suspicions. Maris had said that Jesse was "out seeing some old friends" yesterday. Had he been with her?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, he mentally implored himself. This will all be totally explainable. I'll just ask Jesse…

Not that Jesse was actually talking to him right now.

"Ugh!" Blaine half-yelled in frustration. When had everything become so fucking complicated? He tossed the small, light frame across the room, watching it as it tumbled across the hard wooden floor. He heard a distinct sound of glass cracking, and groaned at his own impetuosity. "Great," he grumbled, falling backwards so that he was once again lying flat on his back. "That's just brilliant, Blaine. That is exactly what will make Jesse want to forgive you." Sighing, he closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. Why was he such a complete idiot?

He would surely have become immersed once more in a sea of internal self-criticism if his mother had not entered the room right at that moment. Oblivious as usual, she swanned over to the bed and perched her tiny frame on the end of it. The slight movement of the mattress was enough to pull Blaine out of his thought process, and he sat up to look at her, trying (albeit half-heartedly) to act as normal as possible.

"Blaine, sweetie," she said softly, "Jesse said you weren't feeling too well." Her son stayed silent. "Are you… feeling any better now?"

"Um… Yeah, sure, I guess so…" Blaine murmured quietly.

"Oh, that's good." She smiled sweetly at him, but remained sitting on the far end of the bed. "We didn't hear you come in… I thought maybe you were still outside. I went to find you, but…"

"I, um, I came back in through the side door. I just… wanted to lie down," Blaine said cautiously. And remove all signs of crying from my damn face, he thought. "Wait… you came looking for me?"

"Yes," his mother replied, chuckling nervously. "Of course I did. You're my son, Blaine. I just wanted to make sure you were alright." Blaine stared at her in confusion. Karen Anderson was not exactly a prime example of a compassionate mother. Sure, when he was a young child, she doted on him just as much as the next proud first-time parent. But ever since he came out, there had been a pretty noticeable distance between them. She usually just left him to look after himself, so the whole "You're my son and I'm here to take care of you" thing which was currently happening was something of a shock to Blaine.

"Blaine?" she asked tentatively, inching the tiniest bit closer to him. "Is everything okay?"

Well, actually, no. Everything is not okay, Mom. In fact, pretty much nothing is okay right now. I've just spent the day lying to my boyfriend and being fucked by your best friend's son. Her son who happened, in actual fact, to be my best friend. But not anymore! Oh, and I just threw a mini temper tantrum and ended up breaking something possibly of great importance to the person who owns this bed upon which we are currently sitting, all because of a picture. A picture of Rachel fucking Berry… With whom Jesse is possibly in love - which sucks, because I'm actually very much in love with him. And he hates me. So, to answer your question, no. A pretty gigantic "NO".

"It's just that… You've been acting strange ever since we got here. Is there something going on?"

Blaine had half a mind to tell her about all that had happened between him and Jesse… No, that was a crazy idea. She wouldn't understand at all. In fact, she would probably see to it that they never visited the St. James family again.

He looked into his mother's chocolate-brown eyes, which were watching him intently as he scrambled to find something to say. "I just… miss Kurt." Well, that is true…

"Oh."

Here it comes, Blaine thought, the awkward shift in the conversation to get as far away from the subject of my boyfriend as possible.

"Well… You can see him again soon. Why don't you just… rest some more? Dinner should be ready in about half an hour." She stood swiftly. Ah, so this time she was removing herself from the conversation in the literal sense of the word.

"But didn't you just eat?" Blaine asked, but his mother had already left. "Nice talking to you too, Mom," he sighed.

Forty minutes later, Maria, Jesse and their three guests were sharing yet another elaborate and no doubt expensive dinner. Once again, the conversation found a strange balance between pleasant and undeniably awkward. Blaine spent the first half of the meal ignoring what was being said, focusing on trying to get Jesse's attention. But it was as if the troubled Warbler had become invisible to him.

The second half of the meal was spent ignoring what was being said and, well, that was it really. He picked a spot on the wall and stared at it lazily. Occasionally, he thought he could feel Jesse's eyes peeking at him from the other side of the table, but he didn't care any more. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to talk to Jesse right now. Unfortunately, talking to Blaine was apparently precisely what Jesse wished to do.

"So, feeling better now, Blaine?" Jesse articulated slowly, interrupting whatever ridiculously dull discussion the adults were having.

"Yes, I'm fine now, thanks," Blaine replied, even more slowly.

Jesse considered this for a moment. "Good." He smiled feebly. "I'm glad."

The two stared at one another for a few seconds, before Jesse stood up. "That was delicious, Mom," he said, his voice bursting with eau du perfect son. "Now, if you'll excuse us, I do believe that Blaine and I have some serious catching up to do." Catching up? Any other parents may have asked what the hell they had been doing for the last twenty-four hours, but of course, Jesse was just so damn charming that in their eyes he could do no wrong.

"Coming, Blaine?" he called, already halfway out the door.

Oh, right. "Yeah, I'm coming. Thanks, Mrs. St-"

"Maria! Call me Maria! Honestly, Blaine, darling…" Maria giggled as she took another rather large sip of her red wine – definitely Blaine's cue to leave.

Blaine found Jesse leaning against the wall in the foyer. He approached him, but stayed a few feet away, just to be safe.

"Hey," Jesse said cheerfully. What the hell? Blaine was beginning to think he was bipolar.

"Hi."

"I think it would be a good idea for us not to fight when this is the last time we'll see each other for what could be quite a long time, don't you?" Without waiting for an answer, Jesse grabbed the smaller boy's hand and led him to the sitting room. Blaine used this time to contemplate the suggestion.

"While that sounds great," he said as he was pulled onto the sofa beside Jesse, "I also think we need to, you know, discuss things. Figure things out. Work out where we stand."

Jesse nodded reluctantly. "Sure. What would you like to discuss?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Well, first of all, I'm meeting Kurt tomorrow, and I'm going to tell him everything. I can't stand lying to him anymore."

"Okay," Jesse murmured, "Well… good. And do you anticipate an end to your relationship with him?"

Blaine thought about this for a moment. "Probably," he mused. "I don't think Kurt's going to want to stay with me after all of this."

He noticed that Jesse was still holding his hand, and he stared at their intertwined fingers as Jesse spoke. "And do you want to stay with him?" His voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Yes," Blaine breathed.

"Okay." Jesse loosened his grip on Blaine's hand, but did not let go. He pulled him up off the couch and didn't fully let go until they reached his bedroom.

The rest of the night was a blur. It wasn't that time was moving particularly quickly, or that much happened. It just seemed blurred to Blaine. Everything was in a haze. He finally knew where he stood, but that didn't seem to make his thoughts any clearer.

Whether Jesse never noticed the broken picture frame lying on the floor or he saw it but chose to ignore it, Blaine didn't know. But it was never mentioned. Not wanting to provoke another argument, Blaine decided not to bring up Rachel. Anyway, he wouldn't have even known how to talk about her with Jesse, at least, not without sounding completely jealous and selfish.

Both boys slept in Jesse's bed, side by side, but not touching. The last thing Blaine could recall before falling into a restless sleep was longing to reach out and grab Jesse's hand, just as the taller boy had done before. He wished that he hadn't said anything, and that he could sleep wrapped in Jesse's arms, feeling safe, secure, loved.

Instead, he felt empty and alone.

A/N: The next chapter is the Kurt chapter. And probably the final chapter. Well, maybe. I dunno. What do you think? … Review, review, REVIEW!