A/N: My second Blam baby. I had this one thought up while I was in the middle of writing the last part of X Marks the Spot and I just had to write it ASAP lol.
It starts off a little cracky but it eases down as the story goes on. Should probably warn you about how much the tone of the story shifts, but I don't know, I just kept writing as I went on, to be honest.
1. Here's to the Andersons.
Blaine's family is complicated. For all intents and purposes, the Andersons seem like any other respectable, country-club type of family, composed of a professional, slightly intimidating couple with two handsome, talented sons. Mr. Anderson is an important board member of the company he had helped raise from the ground up, while Mrs. Anderson is a highly successful lawyer with a victory list a mile long. Cooper Anderson, the elder son, is a budding actor with at least 1,000 legitimate twitter followers to his name and Blaine Anderson, the younger son, is a gay performing arts and music student attending college at NYU. All normal, or so it may seem.
Because in reality, Blaine is actually the only normal one, despite what some right-wing conservative might say.
Because in between board meetings and court cases and free credit report commercials, Blaine's parents and brother are part of a secondary life - a life in the family business. It's a business the Andersons have been a part of for decades, ever since people had started getting superpowers and the first SuperHero had appeared. Blaine has heard of stories of how Grandfather Anderson built the first fully functional Death Ray, how his great uncle singlehandedly broke the record for the most expensive damage done by a villain in Arizona. Supervillainy was in the Anderson blood, their father would tell Cooper and him between teaching them how to make a bomb powerful enough to level the Empire State building and how to break into a heavily guarded vault without leaving a trace; there's a reason why almost everyone with the Anderson name (not that the public or the justice system knew they were all Andersons) that were blessed with superpowers ended up being part of the business. And it wasn't because of how trendy spandex was back in the day.
Well, fuck that, Blaine had decided at a ripe age of fourteen, angry at the everything and everyone after getting beat to a bloody pulp by homophobic jerks in the godforsaken Mid-West state they were living in at the time and still superpowerless, when everyone with any had activated theirs by the time that they were thirteen. (He might just be a late bloomer, his family assured him, it happens.) Fuck superpowers and supervillainy. He was going to be normal.
And if normal meant getting shipped all the way to a safe boarding school in Ohio, away from the hubbub of hero versus villain showdowns that were the norm in major cities, then that was fine with Blaine. Despite the explosive argument he had with his parents about the normality thing, he knows that they're just worried for him. Because despite their powers they weren't able to keep Blaine from getting his bones broken by juvenile thugs for taking another boy at a school dance, and because the last Anderson to try to be 'normal' despite his bloodline ended up caught in a bloody, messy crossfire nobody in the family likes even thinking about.
So for most of his teenage years, Blaine got to forget about non-fictional superheroes and supervillains terrorizing cities like New York and Los Angeles, with the exception of during the weekly phonecalls from his parents or Cooper. He played polo, he joined the fencing team, he sang for the Warblers. He hung out with friends who have nothing to do with his family's line of work, as far as he knows, and maybe got a boyfriend for a while. (Though there's something shifty about how Sebastian was able to do anything, with the exception of anything that involved orgasms, surprisingly fast.)
Summers between school years were spent in New York City, where his immediate family decided to hold base (with at least a dozen other villains - NYC was a showdown hotspot, a fact Blaine ignores because other than that, he loves the city), taking part in performing arts and music workshops and refreshing himself in the necessary Anderson life skills. (He may not have any aspirations for supervillainy, but you never knew when knowing how to escape from 100 different captivity situations, complicated lockpicking, hacking for government secrets, and any form of physical combat would come in handy.) And if sometimes he's at the opposite end or outside of the city whenever King and Queen Mages or Cyber Fox are terrorizing people with their new nefarious plot, well, he just is.
His powers don't manifest anytime throughout highschool, and by his eighteenth birthday Blaine figured that maybe that meant he had always been destined for normality. He still feels pretty disappointed, of course, because despite all his refusal to partake in the family business, he had been looking forward to finding out what his power was. But it's fine - he's been accepted at NYU, his parents have bought him a small but nice apartment of his own, and he's one step closer to his dream to be on Broadway.
Then of course, two weeks before his nineteenth birthday, things go tits up after he wakes up at 8 in the evening, having seemingly slept through the entire day, and discovers that his eyes have gone fucked up, he's three feet in the air above his bed, and there's at least a dozen birds outside his window that really shouldn't be there.
Three days later, he's being congratulated by a proud and weepy family after revealing over Friday night dinner that yes, he's probably the latest bloomer in the world and that he just got his superpowers. Blaine's a reluctantly proud owner of nightvision, the ability of flight, a strong affinity with avians, and he has actually become nocturnal.
He's like a fucking owl.
2. Blaine, meet Sam.
Even living in a world where superheroes exist and having grown up in a legitimate Supervillain family, Blaine loves comics. Ironman, Batman, Spiderman, Superman, X-Men, the Avengers - he loves reading pages and pages of colored panels about them and their stories, far more than he does hearing about New York's own finest heroes. It's a guilty pleasure, one that has Cooper calling him a nerd and his father raising slightly judgemental eyebrows, but nothing could stop him from going to the small, hole-in-a-wall comic book store a few blocks from his apartment every Wednesday afternoon.
This week they've stocked up in some more new and old issues Blaine doesn't already own, so he's stacking up a good haul. A good, expensivehaul. As a trust fund kid with well-earning parents, money isn't a real issue for him and his monthly allowance is more than generous. He could buy the stack he has in his hands without a problem. But he had promised himself to be more responsible about his purchases as an official adult, and going over his self-imposed weekly comic book price limit wasn't exactly being responsible. So he should probably cut back to half his current loot. Or two-thirds. Maybe four-fifths.
Blaine must be staring so intently at the comic books, trying to make a decision, that he doesn't even notice someone sliding up beside him until that someone lets out an amused laugh.
"Having trouble picking?"
Blaine jumps a bit, startled, and turns to look at the speaker, and oh. Hello. The stranger is a tall, fit blonde man, definitely handsome with a defined jawline, pretty eyes, and very nice lips. The shameless part of him thinks that he'll definitely climb that man like a tree, if Blaine was that kind of guy and the stranger was well, gay. (He's a college kid and it's been a while, so sue him.) Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Blaine sheepishly grins and shrugs. "Lot of good stuff this week."
"I know, right?" The stranger peers over to the issues in Blaine's hand and starts gently tapping a few of them. "But if you want a good read, I'd say get those first. The others can wait until your visit next Wednesday."
Blaine takes the recommendations and raises an eyebrow at the taller blonde, "How do you know for sure I'll be here next Wednesday?"
"I know you always come on Wednesdays." The stranger says automatically and so surely. But before Blaine can get properly creeped out, his face turns mortified and starts making placating gestures with his hands. "I don't mean it in a weird way, I swear!"
Blaine bites his lip, amused and holding back a laugh despite himself. Possible creeper or not, the guy really was cute as panicked as he was. "Really?"
"Really," The stranger grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck as a blush starts to form on his cheeks. "I just… When I come here around this time during Wednesdays, you're always here? And you stand out a lot because well, you're really well-dressed compared to the usual crowd. And I kinda asked Paul the owner and he says you come here weekly. And that doesn't sound any less creepy and you probably think I'm some sort of stalker now, oh my god, I'm so sorry."
"Hey, it's cool," Blaine pats the guy's arm briefly (not trusting himself to let go if he put his hand on him long enough to feel the muscle that's definitely there) before smiling and offering a hand to shake. "I'm Blaine."
Brightening up, the stranger gives him a firm handshake and grins, "Sam."
Two hours later, Blaine has Sam's number and Sam has his and it's safe to say that they're now kind of friends of a sort. Then that relationship improves the more they text each other, the more Wednesdays they meet at the comic book store, the more time they spend each other outside the aforementioned meetings. They have a lot of things in common beyond the typical nerd fare, and it doesn't take much for them to transition between acquaintances to really good friends.
Neither does it take long for Blaine to develop a bit of a crush on him.
He tries to smother and kill it a fiery death as soon as he realizes it, because despite his initial wishes, as far as he knows Sam is heterosexual. And he knew better than to be that guy in love with his straight friend. But Sam is making it really hard for him, with all the touching and smiling and being the sweetest boy he knows. And for being so chill about the big gay reveal that Blaine springs at him on their third meeting. (This may be New York, but Blaine knew all too well the ugliness of human nature.) So really, he's fighting a losing battle here.
"Blaine, you know I love you and support you," his friend Wes tells him on the phone one night, "but if you don't stop gushing about Sam this andSam that every time we talk, I may have to fly over there and hold an intervention."
He is so fucked.
3. Sometimes powers are bothersome.
Out of his newfound powers, his vision was the easiest to master control of. A big relief considering it was kind of a necessity for him to see in daylight. Turns out, he could control the amount of light his eyes can take so that he won't be blinded by a mere lightbulb, or something to that effect. Eventually he even loses the need for contacts or glasses - his vision has improved exponentially once he had his eyes mastered, and that's a definite plus alongside the nightvision.
The flying took some weekends of practice, but his mom could fly too so she was able to guide him and got it down way earlier than it would have usually took. Not that it mattered, as he didn't make it that big of a priority considering how little he expected to really need to use it. Nowadays, he only trains himself on it a few hours a month, just to make sure he doesn't slip control and end up floating from the ground when he least expects it.
His bird affinity takes some time, but he makes it his priority after mastering his eyes because a flock of birds hanging overhead wherever Blaine was at tended to give the masses slight paranoia. Everyone's at least heard of the movie Birds, after all. At least now he doesn't get shit on by any bird anymore.
It's the nocturnalism that's the biggest problem.
Blaine wasn't much of a morning person before his awakening - there's a reason why he preferred his college classes after 10 am. He likes his sleep, but that didn't mean he wants to burn daylight unconscious. So when on the first 72 hours of acquiring his powers he finds that he's full of energy when the skies are dark and dead to the world when the sun is up, he knows it's a problem he has to work around as soon as possible.
"Dude, how much coffee do you drink?" Sam asks him one afternoon, after Blaine buys his third cup of the day (not that Sam knew that.) Blaine just shrugs noncommittally, taking a sip for a much needed energy boost lest he passes out on his feet in public.
Because of his condition, Blaine consumes at least four large cups of coffee every day. It's a necessity if he wants to make it through his day classes and social obligations with his normal level of energy, even if being so wired with caffeine wasn't ideal. Nor was it healthy. But he tried energy drinks once and the spectacular crash that followed wasn't something he wanted to experience ever again.
"Do you even sleep?" Sam asks jokingly the day after Blaine had sent him a text at almost 4 in the morning.
"Of course I do," Blaine rolls his eyes good naturedly. And he does. Just you know, at different hours from most of the population. God, if his genes didn't make him more resilient than normal people, his fucked up sleep schedule and excessive caffeine intake would probably have sent him to the hospital ages ago.
4. His knight in shining armor, sort of.
Since he loses time between sleeping his mornings away and taking the odd powernap most afternoons, Blaine keeps himself busy at nights, when he's wide awake. Most of the time he takes care of his school work, but when there's none to do he either stays at home to watch tv, play video games or read leisure books, or he goes out.
It's during one of the latter nights that he first comes face to face with the Blonde Chameleon.
Just because Blaine is determined to be normal doesn't mean he doesn't keep up with the ongoings of the local heroes and villains. It's rather necessary in order to be prepared in an active city like New York, and he hears a lot of things from his family. So naturally he's heard of New Directions, New York's ragtag team of young SuperHeroes. They weren't the best, especially in terms of actually working together (last year's SuperLady SuperFight debacle is legendary), and from what Blaine had heard from Cooper, they're basically at the bottom of the SuperHero Team food-chain. But many admit that they're nobler than most, and when push came to shove, they knew how to handle a legitimate threat. The Blonde Chameleon, named for his shapeshifting and camouflage abilities, is just one of New Directions' members.
And he just saved Blaine from a group of persistent muggers.
"You okay?" The hero asks him gently, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. The half-mask on his face doesn't hide the genuinely concerned expression, and Blaine absentmindedly wonders how those with just half-masks haven't been found out yet, real identity-wise. They don't exactly hide much, really, but he supposes not many get to see heroes this close up. The shadows at night help too.
And he didn't know the Blonde Chameleon had a British accent.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Blaine smiles reassuringly at the taller man. He doesn't mention that he could have taken care of it himself even if his hands were tied behind his back and he was blindfolded. The whole shifting to a lion thing the Blonde Chameleon did was pretty cool to see. "Thanks a lot."
The hero grins at him, lightly squeezing his shoulder. "You should head straight home. The streets at night really isn't safe for guys like you."
"Guys like me..." Blaine raises an eyebrow, looking down at himself. "What, you mean 'nicely dressed?'"
The Blonde Chameleon shrugs almost nonchalantly, but Blaine can detect a hint of bashful nervousness in the way he bites his lip. "Well, I guess that too, but I was thinking more in the lines of 'gorgeous.'"
Blaine blinks, his mouth forming an O and a blush creeping on his cheeks. "Uhm, thank you...?" It's not a compliment he's heard before, at least not so sincerely and without a leery undertone (as it had been when Sebastian used it), so it's surprising and just a little bit… flattering, he supposes.
The SuperHero gives him a vaguely familiar fond grin, but before he could open his mouth to reply, a yellow and orange stream of fire flies above them and a female voice calls out, "Hey, Blondie! Stop flirting with the civvies and get your ass down to Main Street!"
"Sorry," The Blonde Chameleon apologizes, "but as you can see, duty calls. Get home safe, yeah?"
"I'll be fine," Blaine musters a genuine smile and tries to calm his pounding heart. Jesus, it was just a small compliment. From an actual SuperHero, yeah, but still nothing to get too excited about. He probably says that to people all the time. "Thank you, again."
The half-masked man gives him one last smile before shifting into a golden-feathered eagle with a twist of his body and flying away.
When Blaine recounts the meeting to Sam over crepes the following day, Sam teasingly asks, "So, is he your new favorite SuperHero now?"
Blaine tries not to choke on a slice of strawberry and smacks Sam's arm in reply. "Please, it's not like I'll ever meet him again."
Sam just shrugs and gives a half grin, "You never know, man. One on one encounters are usually the start of something in comic book 'verse. But he had a point though, you know."
"Oh? What point is that?"
There isn't an immediate reply. Instead, Blaine jumps when he feels Sam's hand rest on his shoulder, very much how Blonde Chameleon's did so last night, and turns him to come face to face with a serious looking Sam.
"That gorgeous guys like you shouldn't be wandering alone at night. It's not safe, and if I knew you were walking out there, I'd worry."
Thrown off by the sudden thick tension and the closeness of Sam's face to his, Blaine licks his chapped lips subconsciously and his heart jumps when Sam's eyes flicker down to his mouth for a second. With a strangely dry throat, he weakly says, "Oh. I'll be fine."
"That's not the point," Sam mutters before pulling away, to Blaine' s inward disappointment.
5. Friends are great. Honestly.
Sam isn't Blaine's only friend, thank you very much. He's made a couple of friends in university, even if he isn't as close to them as he is with Sam. There's also some girls and guys from the summer workshops he's attended over the years. He even hangs out with either of the groups during Saturday nights from time to time.
There's also Sugar and Kitty, two girls he's formed a close camaraderie with as they also have SuperVillain family members, but he's not going to get into that right now.
He's good with people, if a little purposely distant. And that's more for their safety, because even if Blaine isn't in the business, his family still is entirely composed of SuperVillains that may or may not affect their lives in some way. Or have affected, in some cases. So it was better that way for both parties.
Sam is an exception, because he's, well, Sam. It's hard not to get close to him, at least in Blaine's case, and he doesn't want to not be. So when Sam asks him to meet his roommates and friends, Blaine doesn't mind saying yes.
"Well, you picked up a cute one, Trouty." A Latina says, eyebrow raised and raking her eyes up and down Blaine's body, when he and Sam take their seats at a place called Callbacks. "A bit short, though, don't you think?"
"Santana, be nice," Another dark haired girl snaps, before seemingly doing a personality 180 and beaming at Blaine. "Hi, I'm Rachel. You must be Blaine, Sam has told us a lot about you."
"All good I hope," Blaine grins back, glancing at Sam who's looking a little pink. The girl called Santana snorts into her drink.
"Don't worry," A well put-together pale brunette smiles at him a little comfortingly. "It takes someone especially nasty for Sam to talk badly of. I'm Kurt."
More introductions are made - there's Tina and Mike, a sweet-looking Asian couple; Brittany, a spacey blonde practically sitting on Santana's lap; Finn and Puck, two huge guys that couldn't have been anything but jocks in highschool, the former being Rachel's current boyfriend; Artie, the guy at the end of the table and on a wheelchair; Mercedes, a headstrong black woman with obviously powerful vocal chords; and Quinn, a dainty blonde who looks the most normal of the lot.
Apparently, Sam has a lot friends.
Blaine kind of feels like he's being judged by every single one of them, with the obvious exception of Sam. Which, he guesses, they kinda have a right to do since they all seem like a tight-knit group and here he is being brought in by one of them. This must be what the infamous "meet the girlfriend/boyfriend's family" thing his Dalton friends had talked about feels like. Not that he and Sam are dating, of course.
But the night so far is going well enough. He wins over most of them after admitting that he's a performance arts and music student, hoping to be on Broadway someday, and that he was in glee club in highschool (something everyone at the table had been a part of as well), and Santana seems to warm up to him a little when he's not even the least bit phased or judgemental at Brittany's odd comments.
"See, I knew you'd fit in." Sam whispers to him proudly at one point, to which Blaine fights off a blush and nudges their shoulders together.
"I'm glad you invited me."
Then, someone Blaine didn't think he'd ever see again after graduating from Dalton appears.
"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in." An oddly familiar voice says from behind Blaine and he notices everyone in the table tense. Kurt, Santana, and Rachel in particular, all have sour faces on. Even Sam and Brittany don't look happy about the newcomer.
Blaine turns in his seat to look at who would get such a negative reaction from a dozen people at once, and he's so surprised to see the smirking face of his ex-boyfriend-of-sorts that he blurts out, "Sebastian?!"
He can feel everyone's eyes snap right at him and even Sebastian looks taken aback. But of course, he composes himself quickly and adopts a wider smirk on his face. "Hey there, killer. I had heard that you're living here in New York, but I didn't expect you to be hanging out with this lot." Then Sebastian blatantly checks him out and leers. "Still see you're as hot as ever. Mind if you stand up so I can see how good your ass must look in those jeans?"
Blaine stays seated and rolls his eyes hard, even as embarrassed as he was, "And I still see you're as big of a shameless asshole as ever. I didn't know you were in this city."
"Of course you didn't, or else we'd be doing something else right now," Sebastian easily says with an unmistakable connotation under it. "I go to Columbia, you know, if you get tired of the 'loser' type."
Hackles rise and the tension thickens and Blaine knew if no one interfered then they'll end up doing something that would get them all kicked out and possibly banned from the establishment. But before Blaine can say something in Sam and his friends' defense, Sam asks, "How do you two even know each other?"
"We went to highschool together." Blaine tells everyone evenly. Then Sebastian snorts, moving forward to lean on the back of Blaine's chair.
"Aw, don't be like that, killer." Sebastian says in obviously faux disappointment, resting a hand on Blaine's shoulder which is immediately, but still politely, brushed off. He smiles devilishly at the others, "We're exes. I was Blaine's first-"
Blaine swiftly moves to elbow Sebastian's stomach to cut him off, hissing a scandalized and warning, "Sebastian!" Because he's ninety-nine percent certain that he wasn't going to just say 'boyfriend.' He takes a moment to glance at Sam, who doesn't look pleased at all, but it looked like it was directed at Sebastian rather than him.
"You must've not been any good, then," Santana grins toothily at the interloper. "What, did you go too fast?"
Sebastian returns the grin with his own forced one, her words obviously hitting a nerve. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He straightens himself up, giving Blaine one last look and saying, "If you ever want some better company, I'm sure you still have my number. Call me." He winks and leaves.
Once his ex is out of the building, Blaine drops his head on the table with a dull thump and a groan. That wasn't something he expected to happen, much less tonight. He feels Sam's hand rubbing his back soothingly and he gives his friend a grateful smile.
"So," Kurt's face is still sporting a grimace, "Smythe? Really?" Blaine winces a little at the judgemental tone.
"Boarding school, we were roommates and sang lead together in glee club," Blaine weakly explains. "I remember him being nicer, though…"
There's a collective snort at that. "I don't even think nice is in his vocabulary," Tina scoffs.
Later, while walking him home from the get-together, Sam asks almost hesitantly. "You're not gonna call him though, are you? I mean, I guess since you're single you can..."
Blaine blinks up at Sam's almost self-conscious and worried face and shakes his head. "Nah, that ship had sailed long ago. Sebastian isn't what I want, much less need right now." In fact, Blaine pulls out his phone, and making sure Sam can see the screen, deletes Sebastian's contact information with a few simple taps. He might regret it a little later on, but right now, seeing Sam's relieved grin is worth it.
He doesn't even bother asking how he and his friends even knew Sebastian.
6. Good things come to those who wait.
Blaine used to scoff at the horror stories on how bad finals week in college was. Dalton had the hardest highschool exams in the country, and despite the occasional breakdown, they were manageable. So university finals shouldn't that bad, right?
Oh how naive he had been.
He had been keeping up a steady stream of A's and rare B's all throughout the semester, so technically he shouldn't be too worried about failing a course. But he worked hard for those grades, and hell if he was going to let one test ruin his GPA. A perk of his nocturnalism is that all-nighters were the norm for him, so with nothing else to do he spends his time making proper review sheets and revising twice as much for his worst subjects during the last two weeks before exams. A con to his condition is that even just the thought of morning exams are terrible. He almost has a breakdown after finding out, to his blank horror, that he had two tests scheduled at 7 in the fucking morning, something he was spared from his first year. He would usually be dead to the world at that hour, exhausted from caffeine crash and from being awake for too long. Thankfully he has a free day before one of the morning exams, so he spends the entire time the sun was up sleeping for hours straight before waking up once daylight was gone and his stomach started roaring.
It's the Starbucks near the comic book store that Sam finds him at after nothing more than a "talk to you later if I'm not dead after hell week" and a week of radio silence. He had just finished his last exam and he's wide-eyed and just a little bit twitchy after practically inhaling his fifth cup of coffee.
"You look like shit," Sam says sympathetically, taking the seat across from him and handing him a bottled water. Blaine gulps that down too.
"I feel like shit," He sighs heavily. "Never again." He wishes he could fall asleep right then, but the sun has been sinking earlier ever since a few weeks back and knowing his traitor of a body, he'll be unable to sleep for at least another twelve hours. Honestly, he probably wouldn't be this bad off if he had a normal internal biological clock like everyone else did.
Sam stares at him intently for a few quiet minutes, pursing his lips in thought, before nodding decisively to himself and practically dragging Blaine out of his seat. "Come on, where do you live? I'm taking you home."
"What?" Blaine can't get himself to protest, but he's a bit confused and bewildered. "Go left from here."
"Dude, you look like you're going to drop dead on your feet," Sam points out as he leads Blaine down the street. "You need sleep."
"I can't sleep now," He protests weakly, "I'm too awake."
Sam just raises an eyebrow.
It's the first time he's taken Sam into his apartment, despite how close it was to the comic book store they regularly meet in. Under normal circumstances he would be a good host and offer something to drink or eat, but now that his bed is just a few feet away Blaine can't help but gravitate toward it in his dark room and collapse over the sheets, coat and shoes on and all. He's so exhausted and burned out that he can't even lift a finger.
Sam huffs amusedly from the doorway, looking at him with a sort-of-strange, soft expression he's never seen on him before. "Here, let me help you," The blonde gently helps him out of his coat and scarf, even takes off his shoes, socks and belt for him. Blaine is dragged to the middle of the bed by strong arms and finds himself wrapped in his bed covers. Everything feels so nice and warm, especially Sam's hand stroking his forehead and gelled hair, that his eyes flutter closed momentarily and he sighs in contentment.
Before he can properly think about it, Blaine reaches up to grab Sam's wrist, and tugs lightly.
"Blaine?" Sam whispers. Despite the lack of light, Blaine can clearly see the other man's unsure expression.
"Come here," He mumbles, shifting aside the covers over him a little with his free hand. "Stay with me."
There's silence for a few moments, and Blaine wonders if he's overstepped some boundary and messed things up now. But then Sam lets out a low, warm chuckle and breathes, "As you wish."
He hears the dull thud of shoes dropping on the floor, feels the bed shift under the new weight, and suddenly Sam is lying there beside him on his bed, staring at him with a soft smile as he strokes Blaine's neck with his large palm.
Oh, Blaine can only faintly think to himself as they move their bodies towards each other almost unconsciously and Blaine's smaller body is tucked against and under Sam's. He's done it now.
Falling asleep in the dark for the first time since his awakening, Blaine wonders when, exactly, his small crush had developed into something much more. And what all this meant for him and Sam.
His answer comes when he slowly wakes up at midnight, face buried into Sam's chest and their arms and legs wrapped around each other. Blaine looks up to see Sam staring down at him, clearly having been awake longer than Blaine has, yet still not minding their intimate position.
"Hey," Sam says quietly with a smile, one that Blaine returns.
"Hey," He whispers back. "Thanks for staying."
"I'm glad I did. I knew you'd fit," Sam then says. A warm hand cups his face, the thumb stroking his cheek. "With me, I mean."
Blaine blinks, breathing in a soft gasp as he sees Sam leaning in towards him, "Oh."
They kiss, and Blaine knows he's honestly gone and fallen in love with Sam Evans.
7. Try not to jinx yourself.
The next month is bliss. After the night in his apartment, he and Sam fall naturally into the role of boyfriends. They go on dates at the skating rink or at the movies, they share kisses under falling snow, they whisper little intimate facts and memories about themselves to each other in the darkness of Blaine's bed or couch. They also find out that their respective crushes on each other hadn't been one-sided in a long time.
"I was so jealous," Sam tells him once, referring to when Blaine was introduced to his friends, only for the night to be interrupted by Sebastian. "I didn't like the way he was looking at you, and all those things he was saying almost made me bring out my inner Hulk."
They don't spend all their time together, of course. Blaine didn't expect that of Sam, especially when they had their own lives and school to take care of. Sam still has his large group of close friends, even if they've started to include him from time to time. There's also a matter of Blaine's powers and secret ties with the supervillain world, because he does need to keep his skills sharp and abilities controlled, even more so now that he's dating Sam.
They take their time with things. Even if they started as friends, they still had things to find out about each other (Blaine's supervillain family aside). Neither of them have said the L word yet, nor have they done much sexually. The former is fine with Blaine; as sure as he is with his feelings, he knows that too soon can ruin the good thing they have. But the latter becomes harder and harder to deal with, especially when their kisses start to turn into proper make-outs on the couch and more often than not ends with both of them sporting boners.
Which brings them to now, where a fine example of said proper make-out on the couch was happening right at that moment. Blaine is sitting comfortably on Sam's lap as their mouths worked against each other and their pants get uncomfortably tighter. He could feel the hardness of Sam's cock right under him and he's trying, really trying, to keep himself from grinding down.
Then Sam's hands slide down from their hold on Blaine's hips to full-on grab Blaine's jean-clad ass.
Blaine lets out a startled squeak, unintentionally jumping in his seat on his boyfriend's lap. The quick bounce must've done something to snap Sam's self-control though, because he rolls his hips up and presses his erection against Blaine almost immediately in response and-
"Oh god," Blaine moans, fingers gripping Sam's shirt tightly, as they start to rock their pelvises together, "Oh god."
"Yeah," Sam breathes, pressing his lips on Blaine's bare throat and grinding up again with deliberate slowness. Blaine swallows harshly.
"I want to suck you off."
His words stops both of them in their tracks. A blush is starting to form on Blaine's face, but he really, really wants it, and from the look on Sam's face, he's completely amenable to it, too.
They scramble to get in position, Sam laid out on the couch and Blaine kneeling between his spread legs. With shaky, anticipatory hands, he unbuckles Sam's belt and undos Sam's pants until all he has to do is pull down Sam's underwear a little to reveal the hardened cock under it. And oh, Blaine licks his lips and wraps a hand around the erection to stroke it as his mouth practically waters, what a beautiful cock it is.
Sam groans, looking down at him with eyes lidded from arousal. Blaine hears him take a sharp intake of breath when he gives the cockhead a tentative lick before he slides it in his mouth without much other further ado.
Half an hour later, Blaine lay bonelessly on top of an equally loose-limbed Sam after their mutually satisfying orgasms. (Sam didn't hesitate jerking Blaine off after coming in his mouth. Nor did he hesitate licking his hand clean of semen afterward.) However their short peace is broken by the ringing of Sam's phone, to which they both groan at even as Sam checks the caller id.
"It's Tina, I gotta take this." Sam pecks Blaine's forehead apologetically as he slides off the couch from under him. Blaine can't help but admire Sam's loyalty to his friends - every time one of them calls, Sam would drop everything to answer and usually left due to some friend or roommate emergency. It's as endearing as it is slightly irritating, honestly.
"Need to head out?" Blaine asks Sam after he hangs up despite knowing the answer already. Blaine's own phone gives a text message alert, which he discretely reads once he sees its from Cooper.
'On the job 2nite, far away from ur area DW ^u^b -C'
"Yeah, sorry," Sam kisses him gently on the lips, "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Blaine nods. He looks at his the wall clock and seeing as it was only seven in the evening, adds, "I might go out late-"
Blaine is taken aback at Sam's frantic outburst. The blond is looking at him wide eyed with a hint of worried panic, even if his voice is even as he says, "It's not safe out at night."
Blaine can't help but feel a little offended. Why do people keep telling him that? He may not look like much threat, but he could take care of himself just fine. He's known how to take down a fully grown man a dozen different ways since before his sixteenth birthday. "I'm just going to pick up some stuff from the store..." Blaine says slowly, "For one, I'm pretty sure the only edible thing left in my fridge is an egg."
Sam bites his lip and after a moment tentatively offers, "You can list down what you need and I'll pick them up for you?"
"Sam," Blaine stands up and puts a reassuring hand on his arm, "It's just to the store. It's not like I'll be out all night either. Besides, if I get cornered in an alleyway again maybe I'll be able to meet the Blonde Chameleon a second time." He means the last part as a joke, but it falls flat when all it does is make Sam cringe. "Look, I'll be fine. I have a mean right hook, so I've been told, and if makes you feel better, you can call me before you go to bed tonight, okay? Now go, I'm sure your friends need you to save them from the latest crisis."
Sam, probably realizing that Blaine wasn't going to budge about this, sighs and reluctantly nods, giving Blaine one last hug for the night. "I'll call you later, okay?"
Blaine gives him a smile, "I look forward to it."
"Besides, what's the worst that could happen?" Blaine can't help but mutter once Sam had left his apartment. He really shouldn't have said that, really.
Because apparently the worst that could happen is someone holding a robbery at the grocer he was currently in, probably taking advantage of the fact that the police and heroes are currently too busy dealing with whatever plot his brother is acting out tonight.
"Nobody make any sudden moves!" A masked robber shouts, waving his gun in the air while two other colleagues, also with handguns and wearing ski masks, gather up all of the twenty other shoppers and five employees. A fourth man is diligently guarding the entrance and armed with a machine gun.
A bit of an overkill for robbing a grocery store, Blaine thinks.
"Everyone take out all your wallets, jewelry, watches, phones, anything valuable!" Robber #1, who seems to be the leader, barks. "Put them in the sack, and don't even try anything!"
As Robber #2 makes his way around the group with a canvas bag, Blaine quietly pulls out his wallet and phone, takes off his watch, and eyes the basket of groceries by his feet. Flour, eggs, milk, and chocolate chips. He's been craving pancakes for a few days now, and chocolate chip ones are his favorite.
He gives Robber #2 a blank stare as he drops his belongings into the bag, but just before the criminal could move on the next person, Blaine smiles at him. And kicks the guy's ankles to unbalance him off his feet.
Blaine immediately crouches down to steal his gun with one hand and to grab the pack of flour in the basket with the other, and gets back up to throw the flour at the leader's face just before the other robbers realized what was happening. Without hesitating, he moves to disarm the leader with a hit on the wrist, taking the other gun with his free hand and swiftly slipping it into his coat pocket, and quickly spins to greet Robber #3 with a flying kick to the face and grabbing the third gun from the air.
He points one gun alternatively between the three men he had just taken down with one hit each and another at the remaining robber, raising a challenging eyebrow when the guy nervously points the machine gun at him.
Nobody dares to make another move.
Then an honest-to-god leopard tackles the robber from behind.
Three costume clad people follow in right after, and Blaine can recognize all of them as the Ice Prince, the Firecracker, and the Red Flash - the former two being members of New Directions, and the latter an independent and apparently unconventional SuperHero.
"See, what did I tell you?" The Red Flash says easily, looking over at the downed robbers and Blaine, who still had his arms raised with guns in his hands. "He had it covered. By the way, the whole super secret agent maneuver you did just then? Super hot." The Red Flash winks at him.
"Uhm," Blaine drops his arms and hesitantly replies, "Thanks."
"Even so, he shouldn't have had to," Ice Prince glares at the Red Flash as he goes and bind the criminals' wrists together with solid ice. "It's supposed to be your job, you know."
"Don't worry about him, Ice Cube," Firecracker scoffs. "Lightning McQueen's probably just losing his touch." She steps on the fourth robber's machine gun, the metal melting on contact, and raises an eyebrow at the leopard. "Oi, Blondie, you're making the civvies nervous with your big pussy form."
The leopard, who could only be the Blonde Chameleon, gives Firecracker what could only be interpreted as a sharp look. There's a message in there, Blaine can tell, especially when Firecracker's eyes flicker quickly to him before rolling. "Fine, suit yourself."
Blonde Chameleon doesn't shift back to his human form even as he steps off the robber's back and approaches Blaine. The large feline looks up at him and tilts his head slightly to the side, as if asking if he was okay.
"I'm fine," Blaine smiles down at the transformed SuperHero. "Though we really should stop meeting like this. I don't want you thinking I'm some sort of thief magnet, after all."
The leopard snorts.
8. The half-mask actually works, kinda.
Sam becomes a little protective the next few days following the Grocery Store Incident. Blaine guesses it's a little sweet that he wants to keep him safe that badly, but this was New York - there are threats, minor and major, in practically every corner. The presence of SuperHeroes doesn't really discourage crime as much as it did decades ago, because there are always people who have nothing left to lose and wouldn't care if they get captured by the heat. (Literally, if it was the Firecracker on the job.)
His run-ins with the muggers and the robbers were just products of him being at the wrong place at the wrong time, really. And he took care of the latter well enough, and would've come out fine from the former encounter even if the Blonde Chameleon hadn't appeared. He also has a perfect record of avoiding major SuperHero-SuperVillain showdowns, all thanks to the warnings his brother would text him beforehand. So, honestly, Sam has nothing to be worried about.
"I'm a blackbelt, you know," Blaine even tells him, after Sam worriedly scolds him again on doing what he did in the grocery store. It was just something he picked up after the Sadie Hawkins incident along with boxing.
"You..." Sam makes a nonsensical gesture with his hands, "That's not the point! Things could've gone wrong. You could've gotten hurt!"
If Sam didn't look so much like a sad, kicked puppy, Blaine would've been annoyed. Instead he softens at the expression and takes Sam into his arms, rubbing his back soothingly. "I know, I'm sorry. But I couldn't just not do anything. There were kids there."
"You should leave it to the professionals," Sam mutters, melting into the embrace. "I wouldn't know what I'd do if something happened to you."
Blaine presses a kiss on his boyfriend's neck, smiling fondly, "I wouldn't know what to do if something happened to you, either."
They drop the subject for now. Or well, they're forced to, because suddenly there's a loud knocking on Blaine's door, and Blaine is filled with dread. There are only very few people who would visit him, and only two people do so regularly. One of them is right beside him, and the other one is…
"Blainey!" Cooper beams at him as soon as the door swings open and strides into the apartment. "You took your time, I almost thought you weren't home! So like, you know my plan for- Oh." Cooper pauses when he finally notices Sam awkwardly standing nearby and raises an eyebrow. "Sorry, didn't see you there. Friend of Blaine's?"
"Ah," Sam manages a grin and waves at the older man. "Boyfriend, actually."
Now both of Cooper's eyebrows raise even higher, and he watches as Blaine stands beside the blonde and links their elbows together. "This is Sam," Blaine says and looks at his brother pointedly.
"Sam. Sam," Cooper suddenly grins wide. "Oh, you've been holding out on me, little brother!" He holds out a hand in front of Sam, who gives it a firm shake to the elder Anderson's approval. To Sam, he says, "I'm Cooper, Blaine's older brother. I knew something was up when he stopped bringing you up every other sentence."
"Cooper!" Blaine hisses in embarrassment even as Sam just laughs it off.
"You should bring him over for Friday night dinner," Cooper tells him later, "Mom will love him."
Blaine glances at Sam, who doesn't show any indication that he cares either way. They've only been dating a few months and Blaine didn't know if it was too soon to do the Meet the Parents thing. Especially with his parents. Still, he asks his boyfriend, "Do you want to?"
Sam shrugs and smiles at Blaine. "I don't mind. My friends are like my family here since my folks are all the way in Kentucky, and I had you meeting them before we even dated so. It's like, my turn now, isn't it?"
Before Blaine can ask again if Sam was sure (because he can think of at least a dozen reasons why meeting his family is not the same as meeting Sam's friends), Cooper pats them both on the shoulders, beaming. "Great! The next one is next Friday. I'll see you then, Sam!"
"It won't be so bad, would it?" Sam wonders while they lay on the couch, hours after Cooper left. "Your dad doesn't own a shotgun, right?"
No, Blaine mentally replies, but he does have a death ray and the ability to shoot lightning beams from his fingertips. "It'll be fine," Blaine says aloud instead, trying to convince himself more than Sam. It'll be fine.
Of course, that was before he finds out what he does on Tuesday afternoon.
Blaine was just about to leave campus when he gets a text from his brother. 'r u in class rn?' It says, and he replies that he had just got out.
'shit OK uhm'
There's a sudden boom from behind him and people scream as the ground shakes a little. Wide eyed, he turns his head to look back and sees SuperVillain The Blue Goblin standing on a hovercraft with a heavy-looking weapon in his hands and his army of little minion robo-goblins coming down on everyone in swarms.
'blue goblin gonna attack nyu. unscheduled!' A new text from Cooper says. While it would've definitely helped if he had been told fifteen minutes ago, Blaine can't really blame him for the late warning. Unscheduled means that the League of New York's Nefarious (where his parents and brother are proud members of) didn't know about it, because they actually do have schedules for attacks on the city - estimated time frames, locations, and expected property damage and all. Just because they were "evil" didn't mean they had to be disorganized, and most didn't want to share the limelight with anyone on any given day. So they had actual rules for terrorizing the public, and unscheduled attacks fall under breaking one of those said rules.
Blaine starts running away from the robo-goblins once they've landed on the ground and started chasing people. Technically it would be easier to fly away, but he'd rather not do that in front of hundreds of fellow university students, preoccupied as they are with their own panic.
There are more screams as there are more booms and rubble flying about. Blaine passes by an unfortunate girl who has a robo-goblin pulling at her hair and another clinging on her leg, and he can't help but turn back to help her get them off and flinging the little buggers far away from them. He just smiles at her gratitude, urging her to run before doing so himself. A thought comes unbidden in his mind, wondering where the hellthe SuperHeroes are.
Another explosion happens, this time bigger than the preceding few, and it's hard enough that Blaine is knocked off his feet. "Fuck," He groans, having landed harshly on his knees, and he's too late to notice the group of robo-goblins about to pounce on him until there's a shout.
Blaine can only watch as a large, golden-haired tiger tackles the robo-goblins to the side in mid-air and aggressively knocks them all out cold. The tiger immediately shifts while running towards him and the Blonde Chameleon worriedly kneels in front of him and patting his body for injuries. "Are you alright?"
That's when Blaine realizes a few things. One, that it was the Blonde Chameleon that had called out to him just moments ago, even though he's never told him his name and had no real reason to know it. Two, the Blonde Chameleon sounded exactly like someone he knew very well whenever that someone emulated a British character. And three, that despite being partnered the half-mask, Blaine should've been able recognize that jawline, those eyes, and those lips anywhere.
"I'm fine," Blaine says, if a bit hoarsely. His eyes probably look like they're about to bulge out, but with his acting skills he's able to conceal the inner panic he's experiencing at that moment. "Thank you. Again."
The Blonde Chameleon smiles, and oh, how did Blaine not see it before? Very familiar hands help him up on his feet and pushes him towards the direction of the nearest exit off campus. "Go, we'll take it from here."
Blaine can only blindly obey, not even noticing some of the other members of New Directions pass by and engage in battle, because holy shit. Holy shit.
Sam is the Blonde Chameleon.
He's collapses on his couch as soon as he gets home and spends at least fifteen minutes staring dazedly at his television screen before he decides to actually turn it on.
As expected, the local news is showing the showdown at NYU. Now that the dam has broken, he can clearly deduce who is who among the SuperHeroes on the screen. Ice Prince - Kurt, Blaine realizes - is throwing ice beams with deadly accuracy, freezing the robo-goblins left and right. The Firecracker - who could only be Santana - is flying around and turning every minion she comes across into ashes while Waterfall - who Blaine guesses is Mike from his built and hair alone - is surfing them away from trapped civilians. Then there's Elastigirl, Rachel; Siren, Mercedes; Stone Quarterback, Finn; Miss Suckerpunch, Quinn; and Persuasion, Tina. Puck, Brittany, and Artie aren't anywhere in sight, but Blaine can guess that they're the remaining, non-combatant members of New Directions - Healer Hawk, the Human Brain, and Dr. Y.
(And holy shit, the Red Flash must be Sebastian, which could explain why he had a feeling of deja vu when he first met him in the grocery store and Sam and his friends' evident distaste towards him. It's no secret that the New Directions heavily disliked the Red Flash, though for reasons unknown.)
He's unknowingly acquainted himself to the members of New Directions. He's dating one of them. Him, the son and brother of some of New York's Nefarious.
He's just sure that somewhere, Fate is laughing at him.
9. Nefarious plots are afoot.
Blaine is thankfully over the initial panic that day's revelations and realizations had brought upon him by the time Sam comes over. The attack finished hours ago and the news stations were just replaying video clips and saying the same things over and over again. The university is closed until next week, unsurprisingly, and Blaine decides he's going to sleep during all of daytime tomorrow, damn everything else. (Okay, so he might wake up and go out to the comic store as usual before it closed for the day.)
Sam's relief is palpable when he catches sight of an unharmed Blaine. "Oh thank god," He sighs heavily, wrapping his arms around Blaine tight. "I'mso glad you're okay."
Blaine returns the hug, burying his face into Sam's chest and breathing in. He can smell the remnants of asphalt and smoke but more than that, he can smell Sam and that makes Blaine realize that SuperHero or not, this is still the same Sam he had first met in the comic book store.
They pull away far enough to be able to look at each other in the eyes and Blaine reaches up to cup Sam's face and kiss him lightly on the lips. It's a reassurance to Sam and to himself - for Sam, that Blaine is safe and here, and that for Blaine, his feelings haven't changed a bit and that he wouldn't leave this man as long as Sam wanted him.
Still, it doesn't stop Blaine from moaning in despair about the situation a little bit.
"Alright," Blaine hears Kitty's voice say through his speakers, "so that hot boyfriend you've been over-the-moon about the past few months is your family's enemy. Big deal."
He, Kitty, and Sugar were currently doing their bi-monthly video conference, each in their pajamas and with their own cartons of their choice ice cream. It's the closest thing they can do to a sleepover with Blaine in New York, Kitty in Los Angeles, and Sugar in Chicago. They usually did it on weekends, but Blaine called for an emergency meeting so they're doing it on the Thursday before the Sam is due to meet his parents instead.
"He's not my family's enemy," Blaine sullenly says, eating a spoonful of his double chocolate chip ice cream, "not directly. I mean, there was that one time he and his team went against Cooper but my parents usually go against Saint's team, Adrenaline."
Who was he kidding, SuperHeroes and SuperVillains were natural enemies, no matter who went against who.
"He's coming over for Friday night dinner," He tells his two female friends. There's silence from both their ends.
"Oh, Blainey," Sugar coos sympathetically, "do you think you'll need to hide the body? Have an alibi?"
"He'll probably need to leave the country too," Kitty nonchalantly adds.
"I hear Spain is lovely this time of year," Sugar beams.
Blaine groans and glares at his laptop screen. "You two aren't helping, you know."
"Well, neither of them know who the other really is, right? Your boy doesn't even know you know his secret." Kitty raises an eyebrow at him. "So I really don't see what your problem is."
"You clearly don't know my family well enough." Blaine says seriously. "It's going to be a disaster."
"Your nervousness is making me nervous," Sam mutters to him as they head toward his parents' front door on Friday night. "Seriously, you're acting like you're leading me to my impending doom and it's really not giving me any confidence."
"Sorry," Blaine looks up at him apologetically. He squeezes Sam's hand with his own. "It's just, my parents…" like to terrorize the city in between their day jobs, Blaine thinks, but says, "They can be a bit much. But I'm sure you'll be fine. Probably."
"My baby boy!" Blaine's mother beams, gathering him into her arms and then looking him over. From behind her, Blaine's father watches and Cooper winks at Sam. "Oh honey, it's so nice to see you." She turns her attention to the only blonde man in the room. "And you must be Sam."
Sam offers her his own sweet smile, nodding politely and accepts her welcoming hug gracefully. "It's nice to meet you, ma'am. Thank you for having me."
"Oh, aren't you a sweetheart," Mrs. Anderson then gives him an approving once-over, "Very handsome, too. You picked a very good one, Blainey."
"Mama," Blaine groans, blushing in slight embarrassment and glancing at Sam apologetically. Sam just gives him an unconcerned grin, looking quite amused and a little flattered.
"Now dear, don't tease the boys," Mr. Anderson lightheartedly chides his wife before shaking Sam's hand firmly himself. "Even if Sam is the first boy our son's brought home. I've prepared my shotgun speech for this day."
If Blaine thought the worst-case scenario would be his parents despising Sam, then he would be dead wrong. He wasn't prepared for them to actually like him. Despite his father's indirect threat, his parents love Sam. Sam is very much at ease with his family and there aren't any awkward silences all throughout dinner. Blaine nearly has a heart attack when his father broaches the subject of Super politics, sure, but there aren't any hostile auras even as they debated opposing views about the Super registration bill and the minimum age requirement for SuperHeroes and SuperVillains.
"He's quite a bit more pro-Hero than we'd like, but I say not to let go of that one, Blainey," His mom even tells him while they're alone in the kitchen getting dessert. "Besides, there's no reason why we can't convert him." (Blaine chokes on his own spit at that.)
"That wasn't so bad," Sam grins down at him, his arm around Blaine's shoulders as they make their way back to Blaine's apartment. Blaine supposes that that is true - it wasn't the disaster he had been preparing himself for (he probably worked himself up too much about it, honestly). Of course, he's ignoring the big fat Super elephant that no one else knows about.
Sam doesn't stay the night, because he has a work related thing to do early tomorrow, and Blaine can't tell if he means his actual part-time job or his SuperHero job. Instead, he swallows any disappointment he has and gives Sam a lingering kiss in front of his apartment building.
As soon as Blaine enters his apartment, he knows that something's not right. The whole place is dark, and he cautiously flicks the lights on and looks around his kitchen and living room quietly. Not a hair is out of place, but there's a tingling feeling going through his spine, and Blaine knows how important it is to trust your instincts. He's itching to flick the lights back off again and activate his nightvision so he can have, at the very least, a visual advantage but before he can do so, something hits his head from behind.
Hissing from his newfound place on the floor, Blaine twists to squint at the offender and narrowly dodges another hit to the head by what he recognizes as an aluminum baseball bat. Despite his throbbing head, he straightens himself up and holds his own against his assailant, unarmed, and ends up in a tug of war for the bat.
Blaine doesn't notice the second intruder until it was too late.
10. Things come full circle.
Blaine regains consciousness, sluggish and with a terrible headache. The concrete is cool under his cheek and his limbs are aching from the forced position they were in - tied together and in his arms' case, behind his back. He squints around from his place on the floor and concludes that he's in some abandoned building and it's mid-afternoon.
"Hey, kiddo, you awake?" A gruff but worried voice whispers somewhere near him. Blaine sits up and turns to find a middle-aged man wearing a worn baseball cap, flannel and plain white shirt, and jeans, tied up and sitting on the floor like Blaine is. He also looks vaguely familiar, but Blaine's head really isn't letting up on that headache and he winces a little at a particular painful throb. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Blaine rasps out, "I'm fine. Where…?"
The man shrugs apologetically and peers at Blaine with a concerned look. "Don't know myself, I'm not a local. Just wanted to visit my boys, but ended up here. You were already here and unconscious and that was last night. You sure you're fine?"
"I don't do well with mornings, I usually sleep through them." Blaine shrugs, giving the man a smile, and feels what's binding his wrists together. Cuffs, a little heavier than the police standard, but not terribly difficult to get out of with Blaine's kind of training. Whoever took them really didn't expect anyone more than just a civilian, obviously. "I'm Blaine." He introduces himself, because he still has his manners. And being kidnapped by the same people forms a kind of camaraderie, doesn't it?
"Burt," The man, Burt, replies with a wry grin. He watches curiously as Blaine moves to his knees and reaches for the sole of his shoe. "I'd say nice to meet you, but considering the pickle we're in…"
Blaine huffs a laugh. "Yeah, but don't worry about it," He says confidently and reassuringly when a small, hidden compartment opens out of his shoe sole and he digs out a needle from it. Burt raises his eyebrows at that. "Birthday present from my mom," Blaine explains easily.
"You get kidnapped often?" Burt dryly asks, at which Blaine barks a laugh.
"You'd think so," Especially with the type of family Blaine has, but there are actual rules in the SuperVillain community about taking hostage fellow villains' families. Kidnapping immediate family members is severely frowned upon (to the rest of the populace's surprise, if they knew), so either whoever ordered him to get taken doesn't know who he is or just has a blatant disregard for rules. "But no. First time kidnappee. You?"
"Nah, but I guess being a Congressman it was only a matter of time," Burt says and that's when Blaine realizes why he looked so familiar. Blaine has watched some of his clips on his anti-bullying and pro-LGBQTA speeches, and the debate he had with the Michigan Congressman on the Super Identification Act was plastered on the papers for days. Blaine didn't recognize him immediately with the hat and flannel, especially since he's only seen him all dressed up professionally.
"You're Congressman Hummel," Blaine blinks, surprised. Then his mind makes a connection. Carefully, he asks, "Any relation to Kurt Hummel?"
Burt warily replies, "He's my kid… You know him?"
"Yeah… His friend Sam's my boyfriend." Blaine sees Burt relax at that. Clearly, Burt knows who Sam is. This situation most likely has something to do with New Directions then, Blaine concludes.
Remembering that he was supposed to be picking the lock of his cuffs, he used the needle to do just that and in seconds had his hands free. It didn't take long for his legs to follow. Rubbing his wrists soothingly, Blaine does the same for Burt and they're free. Well, partly.
"So," Blaine slowly says looking back and forth at the two doors at either end of the floor they're in. "Which one is less likely going to bring us right into the enemy?"
One of the doors bursts open and a pair of dark clothed men with rifles walk in. And starts shouting and pointing their weapons at them once they notice that Blaine and Burt aren't how they're supposed to be.
Blaine contemplates jumping off the window and just flying away. Then contemplates fighting back. Then realizes that neither would be feasible because he can't just risk Burt like that - he looks like a really nice guy and can probably throw a good punch himself but he's still a civilian. (And Kurt's father. Kurt will probably freeze important bits of him off if Blaine let anything happen to Burt.)
"I probably should have thought this out better," Blaine murmurs apologetically at Burt, who shakes his head and gives him a reassuring smile.
"It's fine, kid, you tried." Burt pats Blaine's shoulder. "I'm sure we'll get help soon."
So for now they raise their arms up in surrender and hope for the best.
The best, apparently, is being led to a car in gunpoint and being driven off to god-knows-where. They're cuffed again, this time their hands in front of them, and Blaine doesn't risk unlocking it in case one of the men keeping an eye on them is trigger happy.
God-knows-where ends up being a tall, glass business building and they're led through back doors and eerily empty hallways and elevators, until they've reached the top floor. There's one big double door in front of them and Blaine can hear muffled voices through it.
One of the gunned men knocks on the door and opens it slightly, revealing no one but himself to either sides of the door. "They're here, ma'am." The man gruffly says.
"Oh, excellent," A woman's voice laughs, then says who Blaine presumes is her audience, "if your little brains have the capability to remember what I had said not five minutes ago, then you'll be pleased to know that the incentives I've mentioned are here. Bring them in, you slightly less useless pieces of shit."
And so he and Burt are pushed into the spacious room - a CEO's room, undoubtedly, with its polished, real wood furniture and ceiling to floor glass windows looking out into the city. The first person Blaine notices is the blond lady in a red tracksuit and half-mask - Coach Sinister - looking at them with a smug expression and wielding her signature megaphone. The second person - or people, really - across the room from Coach Sinister is New Directions. Namely, Sam or Blonde Chameleon, who looks both enraged and distraught at Blaine's introduction and has to be held back by the tight grips of Waterfall and Miss Suckerpunch.
"Oh," Blaine quietly says.
"How dare you," the Ice Prince, the only one who looks even more enraged than Blonde Chameleon, growls. All the other members of New Directions are appropriately angry as well, though, most if not all of them flicking their eyes worriedly over at Blaine and Burt. "How dare you bring them into this!"
"They have nothing to do with our fight!" Elastigirl stomps her foot almost childishly, but the look on her face is dead serious and terribly angry.
"Oh please," Coach Sinister scoffs, "they have everything to do with this by association with you."
All of New Directions stiffen, except for the Blonde Chameleon who looks across the room at Blaine with pleading, apologetic eyes. He's still under the impression that Blaine doesn't know that he's Sam (or Sam's him, whatever), but the fact that he's left all pretenses because of his worry over Blaine…
"Now, you give me what I want, and neither young Burt Reynolds nor Porcelain's father here gets hurt."
"Don't," Burt immediately snaps at the SuperHeroes. Ice Prince and Stone Quarterback look particularly mutinous, but clearly whatever it is that Coach Sinister wants, it's important enough that they hold their tongue when Siren and Healer Hawk grip their arms warningly.
Blaine looks at the Blonde Chameleon - Sam - in the eye and shakes his head. The SuperHero looks like his heart is breaking.
"No?" Coach Sinister says incredulously, but when it looked like that New Directions was about to protest and do something to stop her, she grabs Blaine by his clothes, shoots at a nearby window with her megaphone - that can shoot lasers, what the fuck - to shatter it to pieces, and with a "Suit yourself" to a stunned crowd, throws Blaine out of the building to fall down dozens of stories high to his immediate death. Had he been a normal person, that is.
Oh shit, Blaine instead thinks as he hears a multitude of voices shouting his name in horror, Sam's standing out the most. Before he even thinks about any possible ramifications from his actions (because, in his defense, the other ramification would be him splattered across the pavement down below), Blaine activates his power and flies back up the few stories he's fallen down from and stays in the air in front of the broken window.
He's met with unhinged jaws and shocked faces. Coach Sinister starts sputtering in anger, "You-! You! You're one of them!?"
"You really don't know who I am, do you?" Blaine asks, "I thought you were just, I don't know, disregarding Article 6 of the Code."
"The Code?" Persuasion asks as Coach Sinister spits, "Who are you and how do you know about the Code?!"
Blaine glides back into the room and settles back down on the carpeted floor. "I'm Blaine," He tells the SuperVillain in front of him. "BlaineAnderson."
Coach Sinister pales several shades whiter at that. It was kind of nice to know his last name had that kind of effect on other SuperVillains.
While Ice Prince swiftly freezes Coach Sinister's feet to the ground, he's engulfed by strong arms and pressed tightly into a very familiar chest. "Blaine," the Blonde Chameleon chokes out, "Thank god. I'm so sorry, Blaine."
"Hey," Blaine smiles up at his disguised boyfriend, "I'm fine, Sam."
The Blonde Chameleon smiles back down at him, but it only takes another moment for Blaine's words to sink in and panic starts to form. "I can explai-" He starts, but then he's interrupted by Siren.
"Excuse me," Siren says loudly, staring hard at Blaine, "But you're not the one who needs to talk, boo. Anderson, explanations. Now."
"Oh my god, you were flying," The Blonde Chameleon breathes and stares wide-eyed down at Blaine, as if he had just realized that.
"Are you a hero, too?" Persuasion asks pointedly. Before Blaine can answer that, the Human Brain opens her mouth first.
"No," She says, "He's a baby villain. Only he's not really a villain."
Elastigirl sharply snaps, "He's a villain!?" Suddenly everyone tenses, even Sam, and Blaine knows he has to explain himself fast.
"I'm not a villain!" He quickly shouts, "I mean, like I have powers, but I'm not a villain. Or a hero. It's just-"
The computer on the office's desk crackles with electricity, and the next thing they know, Cyber Fox stumbles into the room, frantically looking around. Catching sight of Blaine, he cries in obvious relief, "Blainey!"
Sam has only heard two people call him Blainey, so the Blonde Chameleon does a double take, "Is that… Your brother?"
Cyber Fox stops on his tracks. Then takes a better look around the room. "Oh. Whoops." He gives Blaine a sheepish shrug, even as Blaine groans.
Then if things couldn't get any worse, two more people swoop in from the broken window.
"Coach Sinister!" Queen Mage yells indignantly as King Mage's fingers threateningly crackle with pure energy, "How dare you kidnap my baby boy!"
"Oh my god," Blaine buries his face in his hands in horror. He feels the Blonde Chameleon's hands makes a strange sort of spasm at the words 'my baby boy,' and it was only just last night (Christ, seriously?) that he had last heard it.
"Your parents…" The Blonde Chameleon whispers weakly, staring down at Blaine with widening eyes. Blaine winces.
"Well," The Firecracker says, snapping the rest of New Directions out of their gaping at the incredulous turn of events. "You sure know how to pick 'em, Blondie."
It all ends with the Anderson SuperVillains towing Coach Sinister away, the New Directions looking pointedly at the Blonde Chameleon and warningly at Blaine, and the Blonde Chameleon and Blaine dragging themselves back to Blaine's apartment and collapsing side by side on the bed.
The Blonde Chameleon takes off his half-mask and loses the accent and he's back to being just Sam again. "So. Your nice family, who I had dinner with last night, are all actually SuperVillains, and you have superpowers too."
"And you and your friends, whom I've met a dozen times, are all actually SuperHeroes who fight people like my family," Blaine retorts.
"Fair enough," Sam says after a moment. "So like… how long have you known?"
"Since Tuesday, during the Blue Goblin's attack" Blaine admits. "Right at the moment you asked me if I was okay." He watches at the corner of his eye Sam bite his lip unsurely and sighs. "Look, Sam, I like you. Like, really, really like you. So much that I'm fairly certain I'm already in love with you," Blaine hears Sam take a sharp intake of breathe at the last part. "I'd say that I hope this changes nothing between us, but we both know that won't be enough - this changes everything. Everything, but not my feelings. I understand if you don't want me anymore, given my family and my secrets but I-"
He's cut off from his potential rambling by the firm press of lips against his own.
"Dude," Sam breathes, barely pulling away from Blaine, "Don't say that. You weren't the only one with some pretty big secrets, alright? Look I was pretty shocked about the whole SuperVillain family and superpower thing but I realized that… I really don't care." He pauses. "Okay, I kinda care because now I'm scared what your parents and brother can do if I ever like, screw up and stuff, but this thing between us? It means more to me that who you're related to, or whatever."
Blaine blinks rapidly, "Sam…"
"I love you," Sam cups Blaine's cheek and pulls him for another quick kiss, "And I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you, too."
Blaine brings them closer for a deeper, longer kiss and Sam returns it with equal amounts of emotion and reassurance. They don't break from it for a while, and when they do they barely pull apart and there's almost no space between the two of them.
"Besides," Sam says lightheartedly afterward, "My friends are like, scarier than most villains, to be honest."
Later they'll talk more. About Blaine's powers, Sam's SuperHero work, their relationship. But for now they're content to lay in the dark with each other, giggling togther about little stupid things, kissing each other lightly, and holding each other so close that they could feel the other's heartbeat right beside their own.
Because at the end of the day, Sam is not just the Blonde Chameleon and Blaine is not just an Anderson. They're Sam and Blaine and that's all that matters.
A/N: Thanks for reading~ I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you for any reviews or faves you leave on your way out. :)