A/N: I really want to apologize to you guys. I haven't been as good with replying to reviews/updating since my internet is out. I do want to thank all of you, again, for all the support you give to this story despite my horrible updating skills. Here's a chapter with lots dialogue (not that I ever write anything else...)
For those of you who tried guessing last chapter, I salute you. Sadly, none of you were correct. The letter that is (and may forever be) my favorite of the alphabet is... -drumroll-... S. Just the sound it makes and idk. Anyway.
But it was fun to see the guesses. So maybe I should make a little game every chapter?
Blaine isn't the least bit surprised to find Santana spread out leisurely on the couch by the time he walks fully into the small living room.
"My mackdar isn't blaring, Anderson." She pats the cushion beside her, waiting for Blaine to sit before turning to face him completely. She crosses her legs beneath her and leans forward on her elbows – the pose that tells Blaine he has her full and undivided attention. "Explain."
Blaine rolls his eyes, fondly of course, but complies after a few seconds of teasing silence. "He might have asked me to be his boyfriend and I might have said yes." He immediately braces himself against the armrest and shields his face with his hands, expecting at the very least a bone crushing tackle sort of hug or something possibly more painful. Nothing happens, causing Blaine to cautiously lower his hands partway. Looking across at her through splayed fingers, he finds something even worse than multiple scratch marks down his arms due to Santana's acrylic nails. She's not only smirking, she's doing so with her eyes set firmly on the doorway leading back into the kitchen. On Kurt.
"Satan, no. No." He doubts it will make a change in her resolve, but he knows he has to at least try to protect Kurt from his best friend's insanity. That's what a good boyfriend would do.
Santana surges to her feet in one smooth, feline movement and strides halfway across the room in the anything else. time it takes Blaine to hurriedly rise to his feet in an attempt to grab her. He curses his shorter legs when not even jogging gets him to the doorway before Santana is already pulling Kurt into what looks like the tightest bear hug he has ever seen.
Kurt squeals when Santana picks him straight up off the floor and spins him around, the movement nearly bringing their little feast Kurt had prepared crashing to the floor in a splattered mess. Blaine worries for a moment: Is Kurt okay? Can he even breathe? But then Kurt laughs, breathless yes but definitely amused, and Blaine's anxiety morphs to relief that shows itself in the grin now on his face. He continues to stand in the doorway, simply watching and trying hard not to laugh and alert the others to his presence. Santana then places Kurt down safely on the floor with a loud laugh. They shared some words, but Blaine is just far away enough to not be able to clearly hear their conversation.
Note to self: Never tell Satan good news when Kurt is in the vicinity. She might kill him accidentally.
A wonderful, warm sort of feeling overwhelms Blaine as he observes his long time best friend and his long time idol, now boyfriend, get along so well so easily and so quickly. Not everyone can handle Santana's kind of crazy. She can be crass or insensitive at times, particularly when she feels a "bad vibe" from someone. He can remember the time she called their old high school peer Sebastian Smythe a cockslut in front of the entire school at a pep assembly. (Actually, she and the cheerleaders had spelled it during their final cheer. But that's a whole other story.)
She's loud and opinionated, headstrong and extremely stubborn. Sometimes a bit of a slob with a healthy disrespect for authority figures she deems unworthy of their position. Underneath all of that, however, is a loyal, caring survivor. A woman Blaine not only loves like a sister, but also respects and admires in spades.
"Blainers, come celebrate with your best gays!"
"You've met my family," Kurt comments casually.
Santana blissfully left them to their own devices after a few drinks to toast their new found relationship, citing the need of melted dark chocolate for her departure. Blaine decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and ask exactly what she need the food item for.
"I did," Blaine replies as he sips from the warm cup of black coffee sitting snugly between his fingers. "Not half as scary as I expected."
"So, now the question is: When do I meet yours?"
The fact that Blaine nearly chokes on his drink then and there shouldn't cause any alarm. The fact that Blaine's eyes subsequently begin to water and he finds it hard to breathe has absolutely nothing to do with the thought of Kurt meeting his work-obsessed father or his self-obsessed older brother. The fact that the best answer he has to Kurt's question is a drawn out "umm...", well that could be a problem.
Kurt, the tactful gentleman that he is, quickly smooths over the potential awkward moment with poise.
Handing Blaine a paper towel with one hand to wipe up the spluttered remains of coffee spread out in an ever widening puddle on the counter, his other hand comfortingly massages the spot just above the base of Blaine's spine. Blaine, in his embarrassment, doesn't have the thought to ask how Kurt knows to work on just that particular spot to have the quickest effect on his nerves.
"Didn't mean to startle you," the designer apologizes once everything is back in order. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Fine. Just a bit surprised, I guess," Blaine admits, hanging his head and feeling utterly stupid that just a simple mention of his parents can bring such a reaction out of him.
"Surprised?" Kurt sounds surprised himself. "Have you never been asked about them before?"
"Not really. I kind of try to steer clear of the subject, to be honest?" And of course his voice would rise at the end like that. Stupid voice.
"Why?" When Blaine finally raises his head and looks into Kurt's eyes, he doesn't see suspicion or judgment or pity of any kind the way he had expected, the way so many others had looked at him. All he sees is pure blue, true curiosity shining through from the depths like a lighthouse guiding a lost ship to safety. "No, wait," Kurt says before Blaine can get out a word. "Don't answer that just yet. Let's start with something simpler."
Blaine nods. Despite wanting to know everything about Kurt and being able to return the favor, going straight into the "shy" of things seems a bit too daunting to attempt.
"Do you have any siblings?"
"Yeah, my older brother. His name's Cooper. He and I are sort of the antithesis of one another. His calling was acting; mine was music. He stood up to Mom and Dad early on; I was always the more obedient one. He went to parties all the time growing up and had plenty o girlfriends; I mostly stayed at home unless I was out with Santana and never had anything I would equate to a romantic relationship." Blaine pauses, both to let Kurt allow the information to sink in and to decide on what he'll say next. Kurt nods, almost sympathetically, and so Blaine continues on. "Coop and I got along pretty well when we were little, as well as any two brothers with basically a ten year age gap do. I used to think I was an accident, you know? Unplanned and unwanted. I mean, what other reason is there for such a big space of time between kids? It would explain why my dad favored Cooper so much.
"But my mom found out I felt that way. Maybe she read my journal, maybe Coop told her. She set me straight on that right away. I wasn't unloved or unwanted and she apologized for having ever made me feel that way in the first place. I just used to be so bitter toward my parents... it was always "Cooper this" or "Cooper that" and "Why can't you be more like your brother Cooper?" I got sick of it and finally I just snapped one day, the day before my first and last Sadie Hawkins dance actually, and I like to think that the incident brought us closer together if nothing else. We received the chance to understand one another on a completely higher level, and not everyone gets that opportunity with their parents so I'm grateful for that. It made me stronger. Weaker in some ways, but stronger in others."
He sighs and shakes his head, resisting the tears fighting against his eyelids for release. Even now it's difficult to talk about. Usually at this point in the story he's curled up in a ball and sobbing. But here with Kurt feels so safe. He then notices that the warmth surrounding his hands no longer comes from the cup of coffee, but from Kurt's hands wrapped securely around his, the fingers intertwined. There's so much concern there. So much sympathy and empathy and love. It's an anchor Blaine didn't even know he needed, But now that he has it, he can't fathom how he ever lived without it.
"I'm sorry. That was off-topic."
"No need to apologize," Kurt assures, gently squeezing their joined hands. "I'm here for you in whatever capacity you need me."
"Thank you."
Kurt smiles, soft and almost dreamy. "Of course. Do you want to keep going? We could go or a walk around the park down the street instead?"
"I think I'd like that, if you wouldn't mind braving the weather and the public eye."
"Right now, Blaine, I'd do anything for you."
Walking through the small park around the corner from Santana's apartment building, hand-in-hand with sunglasses on to fight the harsh glare of the slowly setting sun and their hoods up in a feeble effort of protecting Kurt's privacy, the couple couldn't be happier. There's no discussion of anything of substance, just pure enjoyment of the chilly evening air and the sound of leaves whistling in the slight breeze in the canopy of tall oak trees towering above their heads as they follow the beaten gravel path in an elongated oval around the circumference of the park. The air feels blithely refreshing but soon they head back to the relative warmth and safety of the place Blaine calls home.
They reach the building virtually unnoticed, Kurt quietly commenting that maybe he should consider switching neighborhoods, and climb the stairs up to their designated floor.
Blaine pulls his keys from his pocket, fingering through the various key-chain attachments he's acquired over the last few years until the silver key he needs makes itself visible. He slides the key into the lock, turns it to the right, and frowns.
"What's wrong?" Kurt inquires from where he stands just behind Blaine.
Blaine shakes his head. "I don't know why or how, but it's already unlocked."
"But we locked up when we left."
"We did."
Kurt lowers his voice. "Do you think you're being robbed?"
"Too quiet for that," Blaine whispers back.
"Maybe Santana came home?"
"Too quiet for that, too."
"Then...?"
"I don't know." Blaine carefully removes the key, making an effort not to grate metal on metal or jingle his keys as he slips them back into his pocket. He turns to Kurt, glad to see no fear in his expression. "I'll go in and investigate. You wait out here, just to be safe."
Kurt's eyes harden, turning from a pale blue to a dark gray. "No."
"No? What do you mean?"
"I'll go in with you," Kurt determines.
"Kurt..."
"I am not some porcelain doll that will break at the drop of a pin, despite everyone's belief otherwise. I'm not automatically the damsel in distress just because I care about my clothes a bit more than the average guy. I'm just as much a man as you are, Blaine. I can take care of myself and I will be treated as such."
Blaine can't help his hesitation. What if someone dangerous is just on the other side of that door? There is no way he'd allow anything to happen to Kurt.
"Don't push me on this. You won't win."
He sighs, a knot suddenly growing in his stomach. What else can he do? This must have been what Burt meant when he called Kurt stubborn.
"Okay. You're right. But I'm still going in first."
Kurt nods his agreement. "It's your apartment; you'll be better able to distinguish if anything has been disturbed anyway."
Yeah, Blaine thinks, let's go with that.
Blaine faces the door again and places his hand on the knob, turning it slowly to avoid any creaking or clicking noises. The element of surprise is on their side and he'd like to keep it that way for as long as possible.
He can feel the warmth of Kurt's body against his back and tries to keep focused on the task at hand.
He slides the door open a bit, peeking through the gap between door and door-frame into the apartment's front room. He can see a sliver of light coming from the kitchen; the living room appears empty.
"Coast clear; stay quiet," he murmurs over his shoulder. He then steps into the room fully, motioning for Kurt to follow. The designed soundlessly steps inside and shuts the door behind himself. They stand like statues, waiting and watching for anything out of the ordinary.
Blaine's gaze sweeps the hallway, noticing nothing odd in particular. Then his heads jerks back to the left again and his eyes catch on a familiar brown leather jacket that he hasn't seen in months. A jacket that belongs to a certain person. Which means...
"Blainey!"
"Cooper?"
Just as the name leaves his lips in a dumbfounded rush, the man himself emerges from the kitchen with a half-eaten sub sandwich in hand. Blaine unthinkingly launches himself at his brother, stopping short of tackling him to the floor.
"Coop! What are you doing here? How did you get in? Why didn't you call me?"
"Whoa, Champ, relax." Cooper plops down on the couch, stretching his feet up onto the coffee table. Blaine instantly pushes them to the floor in a practiced move. Cooper sighs in annoyance but doesn't lift his feet again. "To answer your rambled questions: One, I'm here to visit you, duh. Plus I have an audition for a Geico commercial and another for a possible movie role. Big stuff. B, Santana let me in. Because she, unlike you, actually answers her cell phone when I call. And in conclusion, I did call but you never picked up. I even left a voicemail."
"I never got a call," Blaine grumbles as he locates his cell phone in his back pocket. He pulls it out and groans. Silent mode. One missed call. One new voicemail message."Okay, maybe you did call," he admits sullenly, placing the phone back within the protection of his pocket.
Cooper laughs boisterously. "I know I did. Listen to the message some time. You''ll like it. Some of my best work and a real doozy."
"Sure, sure." Blaine narrows his eyes at the lack of suitcases littering the room. "I hope you don't plan on staying here. Santana nearly got evicted the last time after that first you started in the kitchen."
"As I said then, that was not my fault. But rest assured that I have found housing elsewhere. My friend is letting me crash at his place."
"Good."
"Blaine?"
"Hmm?"
"Who's that guy standing by the doorway? Do you have a stalker now or something? Is he mute?"
"Oh!" Blaine rushes over to Kurt's side and grabs his hand with an apologetic smile. Kurt squeezes back, filling Blaine with a sense of relief. At least Kurt's not angry. "Kurt, this is my idiot brother Cooper. Coop, this is Kurt. My boyfriend."
The two men shake hands, Kurt opening with the traditional words of any first meeting. "It's nice to meet you. Blaine's told me a bit about you."
"I'm afraid I can't say the same," cooper replies with a polite smile.
"I'm not surprised," Kurt comments offhandedly. "Blaine takes the issue of my privacy more seriously than I do." He drops the other man's hand and kisses Blaine lightly on the cheek, internally laughing at the what he finds there. Blaine's too adorable when he's embarrassed. "I should go and let the two of you catch up," He says in his boyfriend's direction.
"You don't have to do that," Blaine argues while mentally adding, I don't want you to go.
"I refuse to stay here and distract from family time," Kurt retorts. "I'll see you tomorrow and I'll call you later tonight before I go to bed. Deal?"
Blaine pouts; he can't help it. "Okay."
"Okay. Night." Kurt leans forward and Blaine happily meets him halfway for a short kiss. He's conscious of Coop watching them the entire time and pulls away before things get too awkward.
"Love you," Kurt whispers as he steps back.
"Love you too," Blaine replies. The words feel so natural despite the youth of their relationship.
Kurt waves at Cooper and then he's gone. Blaine misses him the second the door closes.
"Isn't it a bit early for the L word, Squirt? How long have the two of you been dating?"
"Technically, a few weeks. Officially, about a day."
"JUST HOURS?!"
"Coop, stop pointing at me." Some things may never change.
Cooper flops back down onto the couch and makes himself comfortable by throwing all of the pillows on one side and laying against them. "Sit down, Blaine," he orders with a wave of his hand. "You have a lot of explaining to do."
A/N: AHH IT'S COOPER EVERYONE SCREAM AND POINT IN EMPHASIS!
I couldn't wait to bring Cooper into this and although I had originally planned a completely different entrance for him (let's just say he walks in on a special Klaine moment) he demanded to be in the story NOW and I couldn't refuse because he's too persuasive.
Stupid Klaine making my heart melt with their cavity-inducing sweeteness...
I formally apologize for any and all grammatical errors in this chapter. I wrote/posted it in a hurry so.
The little game for this chapter, if anyone's interested, is to guess how Sebastian pissed Santana off enough to have her call him a cockslut in front of the entire school back in their younger days. I might just write a drabble about it because, let's be honest, that would be pretty hilarious.
Happy late Thanksgiving to all my American followers! Hope you all had a wonderful Thursday regardless of any holiday celebrating or a possible lack thereof.