Give Me A Chance (boyxboy)

Twenty-Five

After dinner, which was great, Blaine, being the gentleman he strives to be, once again decided he was going to carry me to where he wanted us to be, as if I couldn't walk on my own. And once again, I rolled my eyes while he did so.

He practically drops me on the couch while he seems to have a moral dilemma trying to figure out which remote turns on the television.

"It's the gray one," I point out helpfully, somewhat sarcastically. Not that I'd tell him that.

"She even told me, and it vanished from my short-term memory," he says, shaking his head, finally getting the TV turned on. He nearly topples backward onto me as he shuffles back. I sort of catch him and he slides down next to me, finding a slot where he fits perfectly, as if it were made for him.

"That's okay," I tell him, stretching my arm across his shoulders. Also something I wouldn't have done about a week ago. Not on purpose, at least. "You've already made this the most memorable night of my life."

"Who says I'm done?" he says, and he says it with a lot of confidence. So now I'm intrigued. Obviously. He flips his feet onto the coffee table and nestles in against my side.

Interstellar starts playing on the TV. Geez, mom really gave him everything on me, didn't she? Once upon a time, I was overly obsessed with this movie. The obsession is thankfully nonexistent now, but it's still by far my favorite movie. I remember grabbing my worn-out copy of it when I came back to grab stuff from the house. The night I lost all hope that my dad will ever love me again. Because that's what he is now. My dad. Not dad. It's an obligation now, not a relationship. He's my dad, biologically, legally, and genetically speaking, but he'll never again be my dad in any other way.

Thinking about that, this is the first time I've thought about my dad in hours. Usually the feeling of rejection, disbelief, and a little bit of fear lingers somewhere in the background. But my mind is off of that tonight. It hasn't crossed my mind in a while. And I'm gonna assume that's a good thing. It's proof. Proof of what Blaine said; I've fought my way through what was thrown at me and come out with Lyam intact.

I snap back to the present. "I love this movie," I say, and then my tone turns sarcastic. "However did you know?"

He laughs. "I wonder," he says, but his heart isn't in the sarcasm. He rests his head against my shoulder. He's silent for a brief moment. "I like being around you," he says quietly, covering my hand with one of his. He sighs calmly.

I can feel the heat from his body on mine. I can feel how relaxed he is with me. He's comfortable, and he's calm. And I'm helping.

"Blaine?" I say softly.

"Hmm?" he says, craning his neck to look up at me.

"Why did you do all of this?" I ask, because of course I can't let the nice moment continue. I mentally hit myself a couple times. "We could have just gone out somewhere and had dinner. Why the charade and the fully planned evening?"

The corner of his mouth quirks upward. He flicks me on the nose. "Because, silly, just a fancy dinner wasn't enough," he says matter-of-factly. His hand falls to my stomach. The joking tone drops from his voice. "The way that you make me feel, Lyam–" He pauses. "-it's... it's a lot." He clicks his tongue, searching for words. "I don't think I really have the words to describe it. It's awesome, it makes me feel more human, more here than there, I don't know." I watch him, watch his expressions, watch his body language. "I kinda wanted to try and make you feel the way you make me feel. And just going out to a fancy restaurant wasn't going to do that."

I smile. "Thank you," I say. "This is so much better than a fancy restaurant."

"That was my goal," he says jokingly.