“I am damn near thirty-three years old. Still young but old enough to remember when the world wasn’t as welcoming as it is now. Old enough to remember telling my first crush how I felt about him and winding up in the hospital a week later. Parents were not happy about that. Their perfect little Taiwanese son was into guys?” he snorted. “They got over it. Things got better. Slowly. And yeah, I’ve been to the club and come out of it worse for wear. This-” he tapped the kids knuckles lightly. “Isn’t a bar brawl gone wrong. These punches had purpose.”
“Happy birthday, kid. And trust me, you’re no bother. I’d have given anything for some help when I got myself into some sticky situations.”
By the way his wrappings that they’d tossed in the trash were stained a gross dark brown red and the damage on his knuckles? Blaine wasn’t so sure the world made as many leaps and bounds towards acceptance that Jason was under the impression of. Or he could be getting frustrated and grumpy because he was hungry, in pain and still upset. A mix of both to sour his mood? Yeah. That was pretty on point. A sardonic smile touched on his lips, a huff of laughter with no real sound said he sympathized with the parental opinion by first hand experience. And hospital stays for a part of yourself you couldn’t change? Yeah, he’d punched that card too. Unfortunately.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he glanced up–gaze softened with understanding. “All of it. No one deserves that. Parents are supposed to support us. Some just miss the message.” Swallowing hard as his knuckles were tapped, Blaine’s breath hitched. “Probably more purpose than I want to think about..” Because the idea that he’d punched when he could have stopped crossed his mind more than once and the connotations behind that were something he’d rather not dwell on. Until later.
“Thanks. I appreciate it. The birthday wish and the help. Can I make it up to you? Are you hungry? I need a shower and food. Let me make you dinner? It’s the least I can do.”
pianokeysandbowties back up 