I had to take a couple of days away from this story so I didn't start hating it and writing it terriblyjust because I was at a block, so this is a little later than expected, but just think of it as the chapter having extra love and care.


assofander:

Do we love first through faces and names, knowing the most we can about someone else, or do we love first through lust and want, the desire to fuck and bend with a person any which way?


"Definitely lust."

Blaine flinches in his chair then slowly turns his head to his bedroom door where Cooper is leant against the doorframe, laptop in one hand as he trails a finger idly over the trackpad, one eyebrow perfectly arched as he reads.

"Cooper," Blaine growls, slamming his laptop lid shut and running a hand over his face. He doesn't even know why he's surprised Cooper's on his blog. It's not in Cooper's nature to give up blackmail material, even if in years to come Blaine may not care that people know. But he says, "Can you stop reading my blog?" anyway, in the hopes Cooper might listen this time.

Cooper grins, says, "Nope," and flops onto the bed with his laptop, ignoring Blaine's eye roll and loud huff, followed by a grumble of, "Of course you won't listen."

Blaine then eyes him, thinks he should be worried about the approving hums and nods Cooper keeps giving, and asks the question he didn't the other day, the one that should've been his first really. "How did you even find it, anyway?"

"Porn hunt," Cooper says with a shrug, clucking his tongue at something that comes up on his screen and Blaine's really starting to wonder what he's looking at. Specifically which blogs he's looking at if he's clicked through from Blaine's own. (He's also mindful of the new picture he posted yesterday – his ass spread wide with both hands, flash of the camera reflecting the shine of lube around his stretched rim).

Then Blaine's eyes go wide and he says, "You're straight," sounding just a little incredulous.

Enough so that a quick, sharp laugh bursts from Cooper's throat before he says, "Anal sex isn't just for gay men," and Blaine's face scrunches up into a mixture of a cringe, slight disgust and confusion that's been drawing his brow down for a minute or so. Cooper gives him a brief glance and says, "You're blog came up on a search."

Blaine's still confused because he's so, so careful not to give out personal details online and the only slight hint of who he is is his username, his mentions of Ohio and the pictures (and considering he doesn't walk around naked, he's not too bothered about being recognized). So he asks, "How did you know it was me?" and Cooper stares at him blankly.

"You're my brother," he says and Blaine rolls his eyes because that's maddeningly obvious. It still doesn't explain why Cooper knew it was him from pictures of him naked and hard (and while Blaine's an exhibitionist, he's not sure that extends to his relatives watching him). "I'd recognize your tone of writing anywhere." Cooper's eyes flick to the floor at the end of Blaine's bed. "And that raggedy bit of carpet from where you scrubbed too hard trying to get out a wine stain after the first time I gave you alcohol."

Blaine looks at the piece of carpet in question – at the foot of his bed, frayed and bleached lighter than the rest – and says, "Oh," when he remembers that's where he stood to take his first picture, not caring about the floor or even contemplating that it would lead to this.

He's about to ask if his writings that obviously him when Cooper sucks in a breath and a grin spreads across his face, big and wide and Blaine really doesn't like it.

"You have a message," Cooper says, eyes fixed on his laptop screen and Blaine thinks that if he were stood up he'd be bouncing on his feet, he looks so giddy.

Then Blaine says, "Wait, what?" frowning and scrambling onto the bed, hauling Cooper's laptop onto his legs and cursing under his breath when he's settled.

Of course Cooper hacked into his blog.

"It's your own fault," Cooper says to Blaine's narrowed eyes, his hands up in defense. "You should choose your passwords better. I mean, 'teenagedream,' Blaine? Really?"

Blaine ignores him, deciding that they're already in this far and Cooper never does things by halves, and clicks through to his inbox, heart jumping to his throat and something twisting hot and a little terrifying in his stomach when he reads, Cooper saying, "Oh my God," beside him as he sees the username 'highinthemiddle' grey and bright on the screen, the words, "Middle of a high" falling from his mouth in a sort of whisper a moment later and Blaine still ignores him.

He remembers his creeping headache from two nights ago, pressing hard behind his eyes as he thought about how easily he falls from want into affection because of something shared (music tastes or a favourite food and he's convinced they're the one) or something said so perfectly he stumbles over himself to hear more.

The latter seems to have come into play as he reads and rereads the black words on the screen, I look at you and feel dizzying lust and the desire to see you bend but I read your words and want to see your face, know your name and understand everything that's made you who are. Does it matter which came first if I am round at both ends? because they sound so thought out and well crafted, the exact parallel of this boys pictures that look like art, like he's meant to send Blaine into a tailspin, falling falling crashing.

Blaine hasn't felt the crash though, the rupturing explosion he's experienced before when he's realized oh it was all on me. I made this all up in my head.

Instead he's simply falling, unsure if he's going to stop, because this is what he's wanted since he first saw this boy's blog and since Cooper's talk the other night. He's wanted acknowledgement that he isn't fawning too much, that maybe this boy looks a little too hard at him too, and in turn he's no longer afraid of a disconnect between his heart and his desire – he thinks he likes this boy, perhaps more than he should, but one single message that's got Blaine saying yes, love is both, a mixture of wanting and knowing, has knocked him full force into true interest and care alongside the obvious hunger he harbors for this boy.

He blinks and takes a shuddering breath, settles his pounding heart, when Cooper says, "I know that face," voice wary, the very sound of Blaine's mind if it could talk, because as much as Blaine's wanted this – wants this - he's still terrified and his minds a blur of slow down, it's just a boy, don't mistake lust for more.

But he's past that now isn't he? He's past listening to the small voice that tells him no because this boy was perfection in pictures before, only an abstract view, but now he's perfection in words too, speaking in a frightening echo of Blaine's own thoughts and he seems like everything Blaine wants in all ways.

"Blaine," Cooper says, sighs really, sounding dejected and then Blaine knows he's gone, lost in ridiculous desire for a boy that only exists in the pixels on his screen, because if Cooper can see it on his face so well, he knows he's in deep. "I don't like this."

Blaine can't help the snort that bursts out and jolts his head because how odd is it that Cooper's fine with him being exposed and overtly sexual online but has a problem with him meeting someone on there?

Okay, it's not conventional through a dating site, it started with lust and just a little affection that's grown, but Blaine can't see it as more unsafe than viewing this boy's profile on one of many hundreds of sites then meeting him blindly in a street corner café – he's certain desire would spark through him first anyway and how's that different from what's happened here? He might have known the boys face, known his name, but the order in which he wanted wouldn't have changed. Of that Blaine is certain.

He turns to Cooper, who's frowning and watching him with cautious intent, and says, "What's the harm?"

Cooper presses an index finger and thumb to his eyes and takes a deep breath, his chest and shoulders rising and falling heavily with it, then takes his hand away and blinks steadily for a moment, says, "Can you tell me what you're thinking? In simple terms?" He scratches at his jaw. "I might not like it but I'm trying to understand what's going on here."

Blaine nods and sets the laptop at the end of the bed, starts with, "I've talked to him quite a bit and we message each other about our pictures. It's like tame cybersex." One corner of his mouth quirks up the same as Cooper's and he continues, "There's a lot of dirty talk but sometimes he'll say something about one of my text posts and it's like he gets it." He duck his head, fiddles with a button on his shirt and says quieter, "It's like he gets me… and I've been scared that I'm getting too attached but that message just now made me think-" He pauses and looks up at Cooper. "Why am I scared? Is it so wrong to like that connection and want more of it?" He glances at the laptop. "I know he does now."

Cooper rubs at the back of his neck and says, "Are you sure you're not… grappling?" waving his hand about aimlessly and dropping it to his lap when Blaine frowns at him. "I know you get lonely and that no one in this state seems to get you so are you wanting a connection with this guy just to make up for that? Is it like a last thread? Because you're off to New York soon and things are different there, Blaine." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I don't want you thinking this could be something when maybe nothing will come of it and-"

"But what if there will be something?" Blaine says, voice too pleading to his own ears.

He understands what Cooper's saying, feels that all too familiar headache thumping at his temples, but he really likes this boy, gorgeous body aside, and this feels like something good happening for once. He's so used to being knocked down, literally most of the time, that he can't deny he's clinging to this like a lifeline, but it feels nothing like compensation or an ego boost. It feels like a new start, a new friend and maybe something more.

So he says, "Let me talk to him, okay? Let me get to know him," still sounding too whiny and desperate that he wants to cringe because he's eighteen, legally an adult, and he feels ridiculous having to justify who he likes to his own brother, yet he feels a warm tug at his heart knowing Cooper cares this much.

Cooper shifts to sit up straighter, wriggling his toes out in front of him and clearing his throat before he says, "If I say be careful, you're going to roll your eyes, aren't you?"

Blaine laughs on a breath and awkwardly throws himself half across Cooper to give him a hug, rolling back and rubbing at his temple when they're done, pressure easing from his whole body.

"Can I say it anyway?" Cooper then says and Blaine shoves at his shoulder so hard he almost topples off the bed, Cooper's arms windmilling as he tries to steady himself, grabbing out for a pillow and whopping Blaine with it, laughing loudly all the while.

"Go away," Blaine grumbles as he snorts and giggles, kicking out at Cooper's shin until he ungracefully swings his legs off the bed and rights himself with a salute at the end, to which Blaine throws a pillow at him for.

They're laughter dims and fades soon after that and Blaine resists the urge to roll his eyes and smiles small but genuine instead when Cooper heads for the door then turns and looks at him fondly and says, "Be careful," before slipping away into the hall and slamming his bedroom door the same way he has for years.

Blaine feels a lot like he did those few nights ago, suddenly alone with his thoughts in an empty room, but something's different in the way he's not confused this time. This time he's certain of his heart being where his head is, no matter how complicated and ridiculous this whole thing may seem, and he can't stop smiling and fidgeting with his hands, fingers anxious to type something back to the boy who's taken him without knowing.

He's grabs the laptop and hunches down over it in his lap, fingers hovering and stretching out over keys as he thinks about how he's always thrown aside stories about people meeting online then in person and becoming life long friends. He remembers humming suspiciously at those who got married and looked so and he now thinks himself stupid because isn't that what he's doing here?

He's not looking for marriage or a soul mate, that was never his original intention with his blog, but we he came looking for something. He almost certainly wanted a friend or a few and he's found those people, talks to them regularly about musicals, football, sex if the topic strays that way, and it was a surprise when he found himself turning head first into something more for this 'highinthemiddle.'

It was just pure hunger at the beginning, a little bet of begging to hear more of the boy's fantasies while Blaine typed out his own and then stroked himself tight and fast to completion, picturing everything he said – arched backs, curled toes, finger marks and bruising kisses all over his skin – and he'd never expected it to be anymore. He wonders if this is how the people who are together started.

They may not have had a borderline obsessive love for sex and could've bonded over pictures of rolling countryside and old fashioned cars, but there's still some version of hunger or craving, the want to keep a connection with this person through the thing you both adore the most and when it came down to it they found that love really does come in all forms, growing through broadband and colored pixels and steadily ebbing into their hearts.

Blaine's the same as them all – his connection just happens to be through sex, exhibitionism and a joint struggle to be who they are and accepted and while he really didn't come online to find the one or anyone, he's not going to run or scoff and say, "I laughed at those stories, I can't find truth in one myself."

He's going to grab and cling fiercely to the opportunity to know someone so in tune with his mind and body and he can only play with chance and wait and watch to find if he'll have his own story as friends or soul mates (he doesn't care to admit out loud how the last option makes him flush and hope).

So he types, Ask me who I am and why I'm this way and I won't hesitate to let you know. Ask me anything and I'll answer because I want you both ways too, and plays with chance and waits and watches.