Blaine's house looked bigger in person than it had on Google Maps. It was imposing, even more so when I was thinking about exactly what I had to do in that very house within the next two days. I went over on Friday night, Blaine assuring me that his parents had been gone since Wednesday and wouldn't be home until the next weekend. I hadn't asked what they were out doing, and Blaine hadn't cared to tell me.
I must have been sitting out there in my car for at least twenty minutes, because he eventually came out to look for me, knocking on my window and scaring the heck out of me. "You all right in there?" he asked when I rolled down my window.
"Yeah, guess I just got distracted," I said before I realized how stupid that would sound. Thankfully, Blaine didn't comment.
"Well, come inside. It's cold out here." It was early December, but it was warm inside my Navigator. Blaine didn't give me much choice, opening my door for me and gesturing very Vanna White style for me to get out of the car.
When we got inside the house (into the ridiculously ostentatious foyer of the house, I should say), Blaine helped me with my coat and scarf and pulled me close. "Hi," he said casually, smiling softly and making the little butterflies in my stomach flutter.
"Hi," I said in reply, having nothing else to say. "I guess we should-" The next word out of my mouth was going to be 'talk,' but Blaine shut me up with a kiss. Several, as a matter of fact.
"Not now, okay?" he asked when he let me breathe. "Not right now. We should just... enjoy our weekend together."
"You make it sound like we wouldn't enjoy our weekend," I commented, my voice just a bit breathy. Blaine smiled ruefully and shook his head.
"How about we eat something?" Another infuriating subject change, but this time I knew that he would tell me why. Even if it wasn't right then, I could let my curiosity go for long enough to enjoy our weekend.
Blaine is an incredible cook, so he made us dinner as I sat in awe and watched him chop and whisk, and discovered a variety of new kitchen utensils that I had never even heard of. And I'd like to think I'm a pretty good cook! "So, what's in the envelope?" he asked as our dinner was in the oven, gesturing to the blue envelope, which was resting conveniently in front of me. I was sitting at the bar in his kitchen and he was leaning against the counter opposite me.
"Now who's the curious one?" I asked, a little happy I could be the one with the secrets this time.
"Me. What's in the envelope?" he asked again, but I just shrugged secretly.
"Not yet," I said.
"Kurt," he whined, but I ignored him.
"So, I know the coupon expressly said no chick flicks, but I think we could watch some other movie," I suggested.
"Did you have something in mind?" he asked as our dinner finished cooking and he pulled it out of the oven.
"What do you have?"
Blaine was all for a horror movie, which means he would have been very disappointed when he discovered that I wasn't a wimp, but I managed to convince him, with various uses of my lips, that a romantic comedy would be much better.
"You realize, all romantic comments technically fall into the category of chick-flicks," Blaine said, not sounding too terribly pained as he put How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days in his DVD player.
"And yet you have a whole collection of them," I commented, smiling, because he had more romantic comedies in his DVD collection than I did.
"Would you believe that they're my brother's?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Not a chance," I replied, and Blaine huffed.
"Shut up," was his only comeback as he walked over to the couch. I was all cuddled up on one side, expecting him to cuddle up on the other, kind of the way we watch movies, Rach, but instead he wiggled between me and the couch, wrapping an arm around my waist and settling his head on my pillow. I must have tensed or something, because he kissed the back of my neck and asked, "Is this okay?"
"I just... can you see from back there?" I asked. It was weak, and we both knew it.
"I can recite this movie," he replied, and then proceeded to say the first line along with Kate Hudson's co-worker, "And only then will the people of Tajikistan know true and lasting peace."
"Point proven," I said with a chuckle.
"Now, whether or not I can tell if you're uncomfortable is a whole different thing," he murmured in my ear.
"I'm fine," I said honestly. It wasn't like I minded cuddling with Blaine. "You just surprised me."
"Good," he replied, leaning over at an awkward angle to kiss me.
Needless to say, we didn't end up watching much of the movie.
But that's okay, we can both recite it anyway.
We spent the rest of the afternoon 'watching' movies, eating ridiculously fattening food Blaine made for us, and talking about nothing in particular. Blaine kept begging me to tell him what was in the envelope, and I kept refusing. Honestly, it was fun.
Cuddling on the couch had become the standard of the afternoon, but by midnight we were both yawning our way through the last few minutes of 27 Dresses, and we had watched a good portion of our planned stack of romantic comedies. "We should go to bed," Blaine said finally as the credits rolled.
"Probably," I admitted, sitting up from our cocoon of blankets, stretching and mentally noting that my legs had fallen asleep.
"Do you want to shower first?" Blaine asked, and I shrugged. On one hand, yes, I kind of really did. On the other, I took forever to shower and Blaine probably wanted to go to bed. "Well, that's not an answer." Blaine rolled his eyes. "You're the guest, just go use the shower."
"Fine," I said, not in the mood to argue with Blaine, too sleepy and marvelously happy. Blaine grabbed my hand, pulling me up before I could protest that my legs were asleep, and we were both on the ground in seconds. "I'm sorry," I muttered, having fallen on top of Blaine.
"It's okay," he said with a laugh, pushing me off. "It's not like you weigh anything." I was about to argue, but I let it go. From him, it was a compliment. "Were your legs asleep?" I just nodded, Blaine standing up and helping me up slowly this time. "Better?"
"Yeah. Sorry."
"It's all right," Blaine said with a smile, kissing me on the cheek. "I'll never object to having you on top of me," he muttered, making my face heat up and then laughing. "Far too easy," was all he said, taking my hand again and leading me upstairs.
"I feel like I could get lost in this house," I said as we ascended not one but two sets of stairs.
"First time my brother invited someone over, he made them a map so they wouldn't," Blaine reminisced with a chuckle. "I would have done the same, but I don't plan to take my eye off you all weekend... and that sounded really creepy," he added as I laughed. "I didn't mean it like that!"
"I know. Just no watching me sleep," I said as we reached the top floor.
"No promises," Blaine joked solemnly. "So, door on the right is the bathroom, middle door is my room."
"So, I'm sleeping over there?" I asked, pointing to the door on the far left. I didn't realize my faux pas until Blaine hesitated, looking kind of confused and a little hurt.
"Um, if you want to, I guess," he said, shrugging and looking a little downcast.
"No, I meant, I just..." I hadn't even thought of the sleeping arrangements yet. "I wasn't sure if..."
"Kurt, it's your decision," he said with a slightly-forced smile. "You're more than welcome to sleep in my room, or if you'd feel more comfortable in the guest-"
"It's not even a question," I said, feeling like an idiot. "I was just being stupid," I promised, giving him a soft kiss.
"Not stupid, just shy," Blaine said with a smile that looked much more real. "Come on, shower up." Blaine walked into his room as I walked into the bathroom.
Even Blaine's bathroom was ridiculously lavish, and I was feeling completely pampered as I stepped into Blaine's bedroom. Blaine was curled up on his bed, on top of the covers, and he appeared to be completely asleep, relaxed and vulnerable. He was ridiculously adorable sleeping, but he still needed to shower. "Blaine," I murmured, shaking him. "Wake up."
"You take a long time in the bathroom," he said sleepily, so he obviously hadn't been entirely asleep. "You might have mentioned that," he continued as he rolled towards the edge of his bed and almost toppled off it.
"Sorry," I said with a chuckle.
"I'll be right in," he promised me, still sounding only half-lucid, giving me a kiss on the cheek and grabbing his pajamas off the end of the bed as he stumbled out of his room. Blaine's bed was big and warm, and I snuggled up in his sheets of ridiculous thread count (they were even softer than mine) as I waited for him. True to his word, he only took about twenty minutes before walking back into the bedroom, hair a little wet and curly, but looking much more awake.
"Hi," I said, feeling a little shy as he climbed into the other side of the bed.
"Hey there," he said happily. "Sorry I fell asleep, but you were in there for over an hour."
"This takes work," I said, gesturing to myself, but he just chuckled.
"Come here," he said, grabbing one of my gesturing hands and sliding me towards the middle of the bed, cuddling up with me. "I know it's a big bed, but that doesn't mean we have to stare at each other across an endless ravine of sheets."
"Agreed," I said, and we fell asleep cuddled up.
Saturday went much the same way, cuddling and watching all of Blaine's romantic comedies, taking breaks for magnificent food prepared by Blaine and just generally enjoying each others' company. Blaine showered first Saturday night, and he was fast asleep by the time I curled up next to him, but still lucid enough to pull me close and spoon me.
It was Sunday afternoon when I finally decided we had to talk about what this weekend was really about, and judging by Blaine's nervous expression, he knew it was time too. We had just finished Definitely, Maybe, and we sat in silence, knowing the moment had come. "Maybe we should go upstairs," Blaine said quietly, and I agreed. Blaine stalled, putting away all of the DVDs we had watched in their proper places as I watched from the stairs, my seemingly-endless curiosity having suddenly been replaced by nerves. What could be so horrible that every time it was brought up Blaine closed off, even to me?
We walked up the stairs in silence, and we were sitting side by side on Blaine's bed when I finally asked. We were probably only a foot apart, but it felt like miles. "What happened to you at your old school?" I asked finally, silence having stretched between us for far too long.
I shouldn't tell you anything Blaine told me. I really shouldn't. Not only is it far too personal, considering you know him as that bitchy cheerleader who's cruel to everyone. But it's an important part of the story of how we got together, and I'm sure you're dying to know at this point, as I was at this point in the story as it happened, so I'll tell you. Just, keep it between us, all right?
"I was bullied terribly. I've heard some stories of what has happened to you at McKinley, but this was so much worse." Blaine's voice, and the look in his eyes, was far away. "They used to beat me up constantly. The longest I ever went without getting beaten up was a week, and that was because they had broken my ribs the time before, and if they caused me too much hospital-worthy damage, it could become a police matter. Not that the police cared, of course, but my family's wealthy, and they could get in a lot of trouble. They used to play this game, they called it wrestling, after gym, where they would pull the mat out from under my feet so I would fall face first on to it. They used to hold me there, jeering about how I probably liked the gross smell of sweat that the mats exuded because it smelled like 'men', and then they would step on my throat, doing their best to choke me to near-unconsciousness, but not quite there." Blaine was holding his throat, his voice numb, and I was starting to feel close to tears. "I won't... there are some things I don't even want to describe to you," he said, the first time he had acknowledged that he was telling a story, not just reliving all the tortures he had been through. "Between physical torture and psychological warfare, I was near the point of wanting to..." Blaine swallowed and didn't finish his sentence. "And that was just middle school.
"Things changed a little when I went to high school," he continued, still miles and years away. "For one thing, I wasn't the only kid that was out, which didn't stop the torture, but decreased the amount of time they had to spend on me. There were only a few of us, not enough that any sort of coalition could have made a difference, but it made things a little better.
"There was another thing that changed too. Romantic possibilities. Most of us kids that were being picked on became friends, and I met Connor. He was sweet, far too sweet to be surviving at our school. He was... the perfect boyfriend, but he couldn't stand the torment. It was only a few weeks after we had started dating that he asked me to meet him at one of the warehouses on the edge of town. It was the night of a school dance, one that we had planned to go to, but we decided that it really wouldn't be a good idea, so I figured that was his alternative. We usually met up in secret, because my parents aren't accepting and his didn't know. I didn't think anything of it.
"When I got there, Connor wasn't there, but about seven people I knew were. All jocks. They had planned to corner me there. At first, I was concerned for Connor's safety, especially considering I didn't see him but then they told me. They had threatened to kill him unless he convinced me to meet 'him' here. He had been a part of this. I couldn't blame him, though." One single tear streaked down Blaine's face, but he didn't even seem aware of it. "He wasn't strong like I had forced myself to be. He couldn't handle the torture they put us through. The jocks... they beat me within an inch of my life. They broke bones, ribs, my leg, both my collarbones... I don't even remember... The only reason the police didn't investigate was because my cover story worked perfectly. I had been meeting my boyfriend in the warehouse, which only gained me scorned looks that made them unsympathetic, and we went up to the loft section. We had gotten a little involved, and I had fallen off. It explained away every injury I had. I wanted those jocks to pay, but I knew my father wouldn't care, seeing this as my choice, and I knew that the only thing that would happen is retribution. Worse retribution. Fatal retribution." I had been controlling my emotions up to this point, but the image he created made me whimper, and he reached out to take my hand automatically.
"I healed, eventually. Internal bleeding over-complicated things, but I came back to school. The jocks had a tendency to leave me alone until I was fully healed, and part of that might have been that they were surprised to see me. Thy had left me at that warehouse, thinking I was dead. Connor had called the police, and two hours later I was found. But that's not important. That Monday I got back I was prepared to forgive him, if not stay with him, but I discovered that he had transferred, and someone new had replaced him in our gang of outcasts." Blaine's free hand tightened into a fist.
"Aiden looked straight out of a magazine, like someone off a romance novel cover. He wasn't... he wasn't the nicest guy I had ever met, but he treated me okay. The real reason I dated him was that he was big. Strong. Protection. When he was around, the jocks backed off, and when we came out as dating, the jocks mostly left me alone. A few shoves, some muttered comments, punches where they thought he wouldn't see the bruises... it was a thousand times better, and he knew that he was the reason for it.
"As a boyfriend, he was all right, but the real issue was... how to put this. All those bruises the jocks left where they thought he wouldn't see them... he saw them. Frequently. That was the reason he stayed with me, and for a while I was okay with that. I was young, stupid, and equally horny, and I figured I would never go all the way with him, so it didn't really matter. But he wanted to go all the way, and he threatened to break up with me if I didn't sleep with him. I didn't want to, but I couldn't... I couldn't survive high school without him. Not because I loved him, or anything sappy like that, but I couldn't go back to that hell I had lived through middle school, I just couldn't, and I knew it would be worse since they hadn't had a chance to bash me in a while." Blaine looked at me for the first time at this point, his eyes roving over my face, searching for something. Pity? Anger? Jealousy? I wasn't sure. Then it clicked. Understanding. He was ashamed of what he had done, and he wanted to know that I didn't think worse of him for it. I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, which was clearly enough for him. "I did it, obviously," he said, turning away from me again, but I wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close and not letting him get too involved in awful memories. "It was awful," he continued, though I hadn't expected him to say anything more on the subject. "He didn't even kiss me." Blaine sighed, resting his head on my shoulder.
"We stayed together, but school didn't remain survivable for long. The end of my sophomore year, the jocks, many of whom were graduating, decided to give me a little gift." Blaine was crying again, not even trying to hide it or wipe away the tears. "They... by the time they were done with me, I could barely drive home, on the verge of passing out. My ribs were bruised, probably several of them were broken, and there was a gash on my head that wasn't exactly helping my vision. I pulled up to my house, ready to collapse and worry about my injuries later, only to hear some sort of outraged shriek from my brother, who denies making that sound to this day. He took me to the hospital and had it out with my parents, and it was decided that I would finish the year through correspondence, and would transfer far away in the fall. My parents picked McKinley over the closer, private school, Dalton, because they didn't want me to become 'sheltered.'" Blaine was crying outright at this point, but his voice didn't falter.
"I couldn't survive another experience like what had happened in Columbus. I just couldn't, so I decided to change me to protect myself. I became a bitch and a Cheerio, and I tried to stay away from everyone, because I couldn't handle the torture of appearing invulnerable. I just couldn't." Blaine had obviously finished his story, but there was nothing I could say to that. I just pulled him closer, him turning on his side and cuddling into my side, still crying. We fell asleep like that.
When I woke up it was about nine o'clock on Monday morning, and there were a number of frantic calls on my cell phone from my father, who was wondering why my weekend at Mercedes' had resulted in her being at school and me not showing up. I made some excuse about not feeling good and how Mrs. Jones had insisted on taking care of me, which thankfully he bought. When I finished my phone call with my father, Blaine was awake and watching me. "Hi," he said finally, his voice scratchy, his eyes red.
"Hi," I replied, putting down my phone and sitting on the bed beside him. "How're you feeling?"
"You make it sound like I'm the sick one," Blaine replied, and when I stared at him quizzically, not getting the reference, he said, "Aren't you the one supposedly not feeling good?"
"Oh, you heard that," I realized when Blaine smiled up at me. "How long have you been awake?"
"Just a few minutes. I'm surprised you're still here," Blaine admitted softly, making my heart clench. I leaned down and kissed his cheek.
"There's no reason I would leave," I admitted honestly. "Blaine, just because you've been through a lot in your life, doesn't mean you're a bad person."
"I gave up my virginity for a bodyguard," Blaine said, sounding completely ashamed of himself. I had nothing to say to that.
"That's all behind you now," I said softly. "Now you have me, and the Cheerios, and no one's going to hurt you, Blaine." I stroked his curls softly, making him smile.
"I know that." Blaine finally sat up, coming out from underneath the covers and wrapping an arm around me. "Thank you," he said before kissing me.
I would have been more than happy to continue on like this, but something about Blaine's story was bothering me. "Can I ask you something?" I asked him, pushing him away.
"Does it have to be right now?" Blaine asked in reply, quirking an eyebrow and leaning forward to kiss me again.
"Yes," I said quietly, and Blaine stopped trying to kiss me.
"All right, what is it?" Blaine sounded a little bit annoyed, but he was smiling.
"Why me?" My question obviously wasn't as clear to him as it was to me, because he just raised an eyebrow at me. "Why did you choose to open up to me?"
"You mean besides the fact that I was locked in a kitchen with you for several hours?" Blaine asked with a smile, leaning forward to kiss me again.
"Blaine, I'm serious."
"Okay, okay, but you have to consider this. Do you seriously think I'd never noticed you before Charlie set us up?" Blaine asked, smiling. "You are out-of-this-world, completely out-of-my-league gorgeous, and..." Blaine blushed. "When I told you I had snuck into Glee to see you sing, I didn't mention when. That was before this started, and your voice is... God." Blaine laughed. "I have had such a bad crush on you since the moment that I saw you, and I started to trust you before I had even spoken to you. I had built you up in my head... and you're even better than I could have ever imagined," Blaine said softly.
"I... wow..." This wasn't obvious to you, was it? Because I was completely blind-sided.
"You had never noticed me?"
"The whole raging bitch thing was kind of a turn-off," I said before I could stop myself, and thankfully Blaine cracked up laughing.
"Okay, fair enough," Blaine said with a smile.
"I only started to notice how cute you are on our first date," I answered honestly. You know that's true.
"I trust you, Kurt, and I wanted you to know everything. No more secrets." Blaine kissed me softly.
"No more secrets," I agreed. "Except for what's in that envelope," I said teasingly.
"Tell me!" he exclaimed, frustrated, and I was the one who cracked up laughing that time.
"Nope," I said with a smile, and Blaine sighed.
"You drive me crazy, Kurt Hummel," Blaine swore, "and I am completely crazy about you."
A/N: And finally, the story is revealed! What did you guys think? Too dramatic? Not dramatic enough? I had a difficult time coming up with Blaine's story, so I hope you guys... if not enjoyed, at least thought it was appropriate.
There are no songs in this chapter. Lots of movies though.
Reviews are Love.