Reciprocation (Spoilers up to 2x12)
This is not my first foray into lj. I had an old account years ago, but I've forgotten everything about it, so I figured it would be easier just to start anew.
Anyway...you may have seen this around fanfiction.net, but I thought I'd post it on lj because it sounded fun. It's fulfilling this prompt on the glee_angst_meme. Enjoy!
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Blaine Anderson had always been a little bit odd. He was the kid that walked around with a funny shaped stick and called it his wand (because he really was going to go to Hogwarts, there was no doubt about it). He wore mismatched socks and a pair of rather large, "geeky" glasses. His hair never looked brushed, and a lot of the other boys in his class liked dipping the ends of his ridiculously wild curls in the glue tub so that when he got home, he had to spend half an hour in the shower washing it out. He was teased because he would rather watch and talk about movies like 'Mulan' or 'The Little Mermaid' rather than Power Rangers.
So when the new kid named Oliver Martin befriended him on the first day of third grade, Blaine had never been happier. All those lunchtimes spent under the farthest tree in the playground would be mere memories of a lonely, sad little boy with not one friend to call his own. He beamed at the prospect of actually sitting next to someone in class, having one of those sleepovers that he was never invited to, maybe even being able to play Harry Potter after school at the local park.
And for three weeks, it was going swimmingly. Even Blaine couldn't have predicted he would be this happy. He'd sat with someone at lunchtime, talked about dragons and wizards and how totally awesome going to Hogwarts would be, heck; Oliver was even carrying around his own wand now. And they played Harry Potter at Blaine's first ever sleepover, weaving in and out of the Andersons' marble staircases and getting lost in all the corridors, pretending there was a troll in Blaine's room…
Having a real friend was just so cool.
So when Oliver Martin asked Blaine for two dollars to buy an ice cream from the school cafeteria, Blaine just smiled and handed it over. Because really, what was two dollars when you had a best friend? And when Oliver asked Blaine for half his sandwich the next day because Oliver's was an egg sandwich (and he really hated those), Blaine just handed it over and spent the rest of lunchtime bonding over their mutual disdain for eggs, broccoli, and tomatoes.
In fact, for the next three weeks, Blaine either paid for Oliver's lunch, or let him eat half of what was in Blaine's lunchbox. And when his parents asked where the money went, or why he was so hungry in the afternoons, Blaine just said that he'd stopped off after school for a soda, or that he'd had a really long gym lesson. Sometimes Blaine felt a bit guilty for lying to his parents, but then he remembered that he had a friend, and that everything was better now.
Except for one thing.
When Daniel Sullivan dipped Blaine's curls in his glue tub, Oliver wouldn't get angry or sad, he'd just sort of laugh with the rest of the class. Sometimes that made Blaine really, really annoyed, but then he thought that maybe it was just him. Maybe all the normal kids found stuff like that funny.
And when Liam Carson called Blaine a freak in front of his whole gym class, Oliver just passed the ball to Liam, never once looking back at the hurt expression on Blaine's face.
But worst of all, when Callum Ford shoved Blaine against the bag hooks, causing Blaine to fall onto the linoleum floor of the school corridor with tiny, hook-shaped bruises in his back, Oliver walked right past. He didn't even spare the fallen boy a look when Blaine whispered his name and a plea for help.
The next day Blaine sat alone for lunch, but still gave Oliver two dollars for an ice cream.
Because really, who says no to a boy that has six mean looking cronies behind him?
When Blaine was thirteen, he was pretty sure (like, 85% sure) that he didn't really like girls all that much. It's not like he didn't talk to them. There was one girl - Lesley King - that really liked talking about books with him. She was really quiet and nice, and didn't wear makeup or sneer at him in the corridors like the other girls. So it wasn't like he hated them because of their gender. He just didn't want to ask any of them to the Westerville Middle School Winter Spectacular. In fact, he was happy not going to the dance, because the new Harry Potter book had just come out, and he'd rather spend his night reading that instead.
But his plan to find out what Harry's next adventure was would have to wait, because Michelle Jamieson had quite rudely interrupted him while he was in the middle of eating his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
"You're going to the dance with me."
"Oh." He put down his sandwich and looked at her apologetically. "I don't think that's right. I don't know who told you that, but I'm not going to the dance this year. Sorry."
"No one told me that, stupid. I'm telling you. You're going to the dance with me, or else."
"Or else what?" He looked confused, but Michelle just rolled her eyes.
"My dress is apple green. Get a shirt or a tie to match. I'll meet you outside the school at 6pm." And then she promptly turned away and marched off.
Despite the initial abrasiveness of the request, a week later, Blaine was kind of excited (in that nervous way) to go to his first dance. He knew how to dance, because his parents had put him to classes since age eight, and he was pretty sure everyone would be impressed by his knowledge. His parents had made an accordingly big deal out of their little boy's first dance, and made sure his shirt was a lovely shade of apple green that made his eyes pop out and his tan skin look even more brown.
So when was standing outside the gates of his school, he was appropriately excited. He had a flower in his hand and a bounce in his step. For once, he felt like one of the normal boys, having a proper high school experience. He told Michelle how pretty she looked when she got out of the car. He linked arms when they were walking through the playground towards the main hall. He opened doors for her and pulled out her chair. He got her some punch and tried to make polite conversation.
But then, when he was on the way back from getting his second glass of his own punch, she saw Michelle giggling and touching Oliver Martin on the arm while the wretched boy sat in Blaine's seat. Her cheeks were flushed and he was smiling cockily down in the place just below her neck (where, like other girls, she'd started developing). Blaine watched as the boy with slicked hair and cruel eyes stole away his very first, normal high school experience.
"Um, excuse me Oliver, but I think you're in my seat, and kind of chatting with my date."
Oliver smirked as Michelle laughed. "Oh yeah, sorry about that. Feel free to go find another seat, Anderson."
"But-"
"Blaine, you can't seriously think I asked you to the dance because I was interested in you?" Michelle looked him up and down with a rather sardonic sneer as he shrunk more and more into himself.
"I-"
"I only asked you to make Oliver jealous. And it worked. So if you'll excuse us, I have to go and have a dance with a real man."
"Yeah. Go find someone your own gender to date, you fag."
It wasn't the first time Blaine had heard that word, but it was the first time it was directed at him. He couldn't hold back a tear as he sat down quite unceremoniously in his seat.
He was 100% sure that he didn't like girls now. Especially not Michelle Jamieson.
When Blaine was sixteen and just a new kid at Dalton Academy, he'd befriended a boy named Jeremy who was older, more confident, and more experienced in every way. He was also gay, and that's what drew him to Blaine. He showed Blaine the ropes at Dalton and got him settled into the Warblers. He took Blaine for coffee after school, helped him with homework (especially Geometry which was never Blaine's strong point), listened to his tales of homesickness and culture shock. Jeremy was everything Blaine wanted to be. Everything Blaine was inside, before the bullies had crushed his will to be an individual. Jeremy Myers slowly and surely smashed Blaine's shell of timidity and got to the sweet, charming, adorkable core of Blaine Anderson.
In a school of zero-tolerance, Blaine was sure he had found a friend.
So when Jeremy started asking him odd questions, like if Blaine had ever watched porn, or been on the relieving end of a handjob, Blaine thought it was a bit strange, but kind of resigned himself to the fact that maybe that's what all best friends (especially gay ones) talked about. After all, he'd never known a guy that was openly gay. Actually, he'd never even had a best friend, so Blaine definitely wouldn't know what kinds of things were appropriate to talk about. So he answered a resounding 'no' to both those questions and the same to the subsequent ones like:
"Have you ever given a blowjob?"
"Ever fingered somebody?"
"Have you ever even wanked?"
Sure, Blaine was a little uncomfortable discussing things like that, but he was kind of intrigued by the idea (more and more so as time went on). Of course he was. It was natural, and it didn't hurt that Jeremy was wonderfully attractive. It was this intrigue that made him say yes when Jeremy asked if he wanted to try some of those things, even if, when Jeremy had his hands all over him in untouched places, Blaine felt a little uneasy.
Surely that was to be expected, right? Becoming sexually active was a big thing, so there are meant to be feelings of nervousness and uncertainty, weren't there?
But Blaine pushed down those feelings, because when Jeremy's hands were all over Blaine, and his mouth was exploring places undiscovered, it felt so good, like mindblowing, really. And sure it was over quick, but Jeremy said they'd "work on that." Blaine was totally up for that because having a release after so many years of just nothing, this was heaven. It was a little harder to push down the feelings though, when Jeremy told Blaine to put his mouth on Jeremy's (probably well-explored) body. Sometimes, Blaine would leave the room feeling kind of dirty, and had to brush his teeth a few times afterwards and scrub at his body in the shower.
And what really made Blaine feel just kind of used, was that Jeremy wasn't any different towards him in public. Oh sure, he was all smiles and friendly pats on the back, but he never held hands or touched Blaine in the soft and lovely way that he'd seen other couples do. In fact, when Blaine tried to think back through the weeks of intimacy they shared, he couldn't think of once that Jeremy had kissed him. And when he asked Jeremy why all that was being ignored, he got an incredulous and amused reply of "You didn't think we were dating or anything, did you?"
Was it too much for Blaine to just want to be wanted? He barely wanted it sexually now. All he wanted was a hug, a brush against the cheek, a palm pressed with a gentle firmness against his, the feeling of warm, soft lips against his own. Would it be too much to ask for soft, rather than quick, fast and dirty? Was it too much to ask not to feel used after the most intimate of acts?
Was it too much to ask to be loved? Even by a friend?
When Blaine was seventeen, he met a boy that reminded him so much of himself. Kurt Hummel sat across the coffee table from him, looking frustrated and angst-ridden, but so very proud. So Blaine, just because it was such a Blaine thing to do, gave Kurt his number, ignoring the warnings from David and Wes that the guy was a spy and Blaine had a history of falling for the most clichéd tricks in the book. But he never listened because he knew as soon as he'd locked eyes with those glasz beauties that this was something. He didn't know what, but God help him if he didn't at least take the boy for coffee, because he was entranced by him in a way that no one had ever come close to.
And if this failed, he didn't know how he would handle it. He knew he'd put his heart on the line as soon as he'd written down that cell number.
Every time Kurt called him for the first couple of weeks, Blaine had realised how huge the potential was for this to fail, and for him to feel used like every other time. The boy called him at two in the morning, unable to sleep because of haunted dreams. Blaine helped Kurt move on from a stolen kiss, a multitude of bruises, and a lifetime of slurs. In fact, Blaine had been so screwed over in life, that he fully expected Kurt to never call him again after every conversation.
So when Kurt transferred, Blaine was even more terrified. What was to stop Kurt from finding a more charming, more handsome, more secure version of him to show him around Dalton? In fact, Blaine was convinced that he'd see Kurt holding hands with a member of the swim team or (even worse), a Warbler in no time. Because Kurt was always stronger than him, and when Kurt bounced back, he would do so with a vengeance and a level of courage that Blaine could never hope to possess.
It would be yet another "Thanks very much for the help, but I don't need you anymore" moment. And Blaine was ready to break at the prospect.
But month after month went by, and Kurt was still there.
When Blaine was sick, Kurt hadn't even hesitated to bring warm soup from the kitchens and a mug of honey and lemon tea to Blaine's door. He played hooky from class, cleaning up the older boy's room and rubbing his shoulders to relieve him of the tension from being sick. He sat with Blaine watching old classic movies and animated Disney films for hours on end, and never once complained that Blaine was in any way imperfect.
When Blaine had seen Oliver Martin in the regular coffee shop that he and Kurt frequented, Kurt had sat in a booth with him for over two hours while Blaine recalled (and shamefully cried a little bit) at the lonely, sad stories from his youth. Kurt was there to lend tissues, and give the gentle hugs that Blaine craved. In fact, in the hours they were in that booth, Kurt never moved his hand from Blaine's body, and it was so, so comforting that Blaine cried a bit more at that.
When Jeremiah had turned him down, Kurt had stayed up until two in the morning with Blaine, listening to the older boy go over every single detail with the Gap employee, even though it would have torn Kurt to shreds emotionally. He offered advice and hugs and more tissues (because as confident and dapper as Blaine intended to be, he was always a bit of a crier).
And oh, months later, when Blaine was ready to not screw things up, Kurt took his hand and granted Blaine his first ever kiss. It wasn't fast, it wasn't hard and it was anything but dirty. Kurt's soft and pliant lips pressed against his own gently, with the love of five hundred days, and nothing had felt more beautiful to Blaine. Kurt held his hand in corridors, stole kisses when teachers weren't looking, took him on inexpensive, but beautiful dates that begun, progressed and ended with quiet proclamations of love. He loved Blaine with everything he had, and Blaine loved him just as much. Give and take.
So when Blaine had his hands roaming over Kurt's lithe, pale, exquisite body, he didn't feel unsure. And when Kurt let his mouth explore Blaine's damp and heated skin, Blaine felt nothing but the feeling of being adored and worshiped. He had no doubts, no questions and no reason to leave this bed once they were done discovering each other in the most intimate of ways. He didn't scrub himself clean afterwards. Instead, he bathed in the soft caresses and lovely words that Kurt bestowed upon him.
Because finally, he knew what it was to be appreciated in return.