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we could not make sense

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Blaine is thirteen the first time he realizes that not everyone looks at their older brother the way he does.

The knowledge hits him hard and fast and leaves him throwing up until there's nothing left in his stomach. He clutches the rim of the toilet, fingers going just as white as the porcelain, and tries to remember how to breathe. It feels like there's a fist tight around his lungs and every inhalation makes his chest burn like fire.

He retches again when it finally dawns on him that he's gay, that it's boys in general but Coop in oh so specific. He's scared and freezing and his dad will kill him so he curls his entire body around the bowl of the toilet, hugging it like that's going to make anything better. All it does is make him even colder and he shivers on the tile floor. He should've taken the time to pull on a bathrobe but he woke up from a graphic dream of Cooper on top of him, pressing his mouth to Blaine's neck hot and wet and that was it, he had to run for the bathroom or he'd have ruined the carpet.

He makes pathetic sounds against the cold white surface of the toilet, then finally drags himself up off the floor and over to the sink to brush his teeth. He scrubs hard and fast to get both the very real taste of vomit and the very non-existent taste of his brother's lips out of his mouth and it's not long before his gums are bleeding. He slams the toothbrush down hard, reaching for the mouthwash, and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His pajamas are askew and he can see the dark wet spot on the bottoms. He's pretty sure he woke up before he could actually come but he was obviously leaking in his sleep, getting wet over the thought of his brother's body pressing him down into the bed and marking Blaine with his mouth.

He looks into his own eyes in the mirror and then that's it, he's reaching for the toilet again and throwing up the mouthful of Listerine mixed in with the remaining contents of his stomach.

He stays home sick from school that day, unable to bear contact with all the happy, normal people who aren't thinking disgusting thoughts about boys and their brothers and hot, hard bodies.


Blaine is fourteen when he goes to the Sadie Hawkins dance with a boy at school and gets the shit kicked out of him by a group of jocks who've spent the last few months calling him names that they think are the worst things he could possibly be. It's been horrible, it has, but they're wrong if they think gay is the worst thing about him. Being called a queer only serves to remind him that he's an insult to the gay community because he's horrible, so disgusting and vile and there's something wrong with him that isn't with all of them.

He'll never believe that he deserves the name calling and the shoves just for liking boys but when he's laying there on the ground bleeding, there's a tiny sick part of him that thinks he deserves it anyway, thinks that when they call him an abomination and a disgrace that they're not too far off the mark. He thinks of the bruises as penance, as his atonement for being so horribly wrong.

He begs his parents to let him transfer to Dalton because Cooper didn't go there. No one there will even know he has a brother, much less look up to him or for one second believe that Blaine has ever looked at him the wrong way.

It takes a few weeks for the paperwork to go through but once he's there, he's Blaine Anderson, only child, and he doesn't speak about his brother in public again for years.

Blaine is fifteen when he gets drunk for the first time. Cooper's home for the weekend and their parents are out, and suddenly the house is filled with people Cooper went to high school with and Blaine is the awkward tag-along brother doing his best to hide in the corner until Cooper trots him out like a trained puppy to do skits. Blaine goes, every single time, and he hits every note. Being with the Warblers have taught him the dignity in blending seamlessly into a supporting role and so that is what Blaine does: he plays Coop's charming little brother to a T, never once distracting from Cooper's abilities or outshining him but always, always complimenting them with his own.

Coop hands him a beer after the first skit in thanks and then another after each as the night wears on. Before Blaine knows it, everything is fuzzy and the house is empty, and instead of cleaning up like Cooper asked him to, Blaine is clinging to the front of Coop's shirt and giggling.

"Woah, Little Brother," Coop says. "Didn't know you'd be such a lightweight."

"I had lots of beer," Blaine murmurs, and Coop gently tries to pry him off, but Blaine refuses to let go.

"I was hoping you'd get drunk," Coop admits. "Figured if I got you drunk...well, free entertainment for all, but also you'd make such an ass of yourself that anything I did would look charming in comparison."

"You are," Blaine tells him. "Charming. You are very, very charming. Fuck, I can still hear music. Can you still hear music?"

"That's because the stereo's still on, kid."

Blaine starts to sway to the slow, mournful beat, still holding on so that Cooper has to dance with him. He looks anxious but Blaine ignores it. It's been years since Cooper let him this close and Blaine wants more than anything to stand up on his tiptoes and kiss his older brother, and so that is exactly what he does.

Cooper blinks at him, then fists his fingers in Blaine's hair. He sweated a lot during the party and the gel has mostly dissolved, but his hair is still greasy and thick. Blaine gasps at the sudden, sharp tug against his scalp.

"What are you doing, Little Brother?" Cooper asks coldly.

"I--" Blaine moans as Cooper's fingers tighten. "I wanted to kiss you," Blaine says. "I've wanted to kiss you since I was thirteen."

Cooper stares at him, then releases his hold on Blaine entirely and shoves him away.

"Clean up this mess," he says. "I'm going to bed."

Blaine thinks about arguing as he leaves, but there's really no argument to be had. Cooper is right, obviously, and Blaine wouldn't have even tried it if he weren't so drunk, so he sets about cleaning up.

But he can't stop thinking about it, about that brief moment when their lips were touching, when he could taste the vodka Cooper was drinking all night and he could smell the perfume of that girl who was rubbing up against him all night. Blaine doesn't blame her one bit but he's jealous, so jealous that some girl got to press against Cooper in ways that Blaine doesn't get to, and so as soon as he's finished taking out the trash, he goes up to Cooper's bedroom and pushes open the door. Cooper is in bed, laying on his side, but Blaine can tell he isn't asleep. He's not sure what makes him do it, only knows that he has to, and so he crosses the room and crawls under Coop's covers.

"I told you not to--" Cooper starts, but Blaine shuts him up with a kiss.

"Please," he says. "I just want--"

Cooper's voice sounds like it's being dragged over broken glass when he answers, but he says, "Okay," and kisses Blaine back, big hands cupping Blaine's face and making him feel so small in comparison. He groans into the kiss and presses his lips harder, with more insistence, until Cooper finally rolls them over, hovering over Blaine in the dark.

Blaine is sixteen when he tells the directors of West Side Story that he's never had sex. It doesn't count if he doesn't remember it and Blaine's not explaining that his first time was his older brother, anyway.

The less he thinks about that night and the fact that Cooper hasn't spoken to him for longer than a text message since, the better.

Blaine is seventeen when Cooper returns to Lima, all bad acting advice and constantly pointing out everything that Blaine does wrong. He doesn't need to hear it--he knows what a massive fuck up he is even without Cooper's assistance--but his chest aches every time Cooper looks at him anyway because he's gone so long without. Just the smell of Cooper's cologne is enough to make him weak in the knees and it's been so long since Blaine had that feeling.

The last time he even came close was the week West Side Story opened but even then, the feeling of Kurt's hands on him didn't even hold a candle just to Cooper throwing an arm casually around his shoulder.

Blaine can't stand how much Cooper touches him, not because he knows how disgusting he is but because it means nothing, because it's casual. After what happened, there should be nothing casual about this. It should be...something. It should matter.

He gets angry and spends more time than he should in the workout room at school, beating the shit out of the punching bag because it's better than beating the shit out of Cooper. Not that he could. God, if he could get a hand on Cooper, punching him would be the last thing on his mind.

He breaks like he always does because he's weak, because Kurt's just trying to help and he doesn't know, has no fucking clue that when he sends Blaine off to make up with his brother that he's instigating something so much worse. He goes because somewhere inside, he's still thirteen years old, dreaming about his brother and waking up with the taste of vomit in his mouth.

But he's angry. God, he's angry because that morning after, when Blaine looked at him with big, scared eyes because that had been his first time and it obviously hadn't been his brother's, and he needed reassurance, needed to know that he was good and that Cooper felt the same way about him, Cooper had gotten dressed and said, "Don't tell anybody about this, okay?" and then he'd fucking left the state and hasn't looked back since.

Blaine has always been better with expressing himself through song and this is no difference. It's cathartic to get it out there but even after, when Cooper touches him, it's not really what Blaine wants. It's something, because he has a boyfriend and he just wants his brother back so badly but it's not enough and so he finds himself crawling into Cooper's bed that night.

Cooper shakes his head but Blaine kisses him anyway, over and over again until Cooper shoves him away.

"Blaine, no," he says. "You're just--fuck, you're just a kid."

"I was even younger the last time."

Cooper flinches like he's been hit and Blaine feels a wave of satisfaction so strong that it nearly knocks him over.

"Last time was a mistake," Cooper says. "Go back to your boyfriend. Hold hands and sing flirty songs together."

"You think that's what we do?" Blaine asks. "You think we don't have sex?"

"I think you're a couple of teenage boys."

"I'm not a kid, Coop. I know how this works."

"No, you don't. Go back to bed, all right?"

"Don't you want to fuck me?" Blaine asks, because if he's in for a penny then he's going to twist the knife just that little bit harder. "I can take it better now than I did the last time."

Cooper swallows. "Blaine--"

"Doesn't it bother you to think about Kurt being inside me? It used to bother me so much to see you with girls. That night, at your party, there was this one, and she kept rubbing herself all over you. You smelled like her perfume when you kissed me. I couldn't stand it. But it doesn't bother you to think about Kurt opening me up with his fingers, about him bending my knees up to my chest because he likes to watch? He likes to see my face when he's inside me and you didn't, Coop. You never got to see how much I love being filled up like that, and he does. Doesn't that bother you?"

Blaine can see Cooper's Adam's apple bob as he swallows and he knows he should feel bad about this, for using Kurt this way and for cheating, but he already knows he's a vile human being so adding this onto the whole wanting his brother to fuck him thing really doesn't seem like much.


"I can suck you first," Blaine says. "Kurt says I'm really good at that. Sometimes he has me get on my knees and he fucks my mouth. I love it when he does that. I love the way it feels on my tongue, so hard and heavy. I could do that for you. Haven't you thought about me on my knees for you?"

"Blaine, shut up," Cooper says.

"I don't want to," Blaine says. "I want to do the opposite of shut up. I want you to make me scream with how good you feel, stretching me open. You're bigger than he is, you know that? Thicker. It feels good with him but I bet it'll feel amazing with you. Earlier, I was in my bedroom, and I was trying to convince myself not to come in here, but I felt so empty. I worked myself open and got myself so wet for you. Do you want to feel?"

He takes Cooper's hand and drags it up over the curve of his hip, then down under his pajama bottoms. The feel of Cooper's hand on his bare skin sets him on fire and Coop jerks his hand back like he felt the burn.

"Blaine, shut up, Jesus Christ."

"Make me."

"I'll beg if I have to," Blaine says. "I do that really well, too. Sometimes, Kurt teases me, and he won't give me what I want until I beg for him to fuck me or to come inside me or--"

Cooper's mouth lands on his, hard. It makes him gasp but he grips his fingers in Cooper's hair and holds on tight.

"Tell me you don't let him--"

"No," Blaine says. "You're the only one who's done that."

"It was stupid."

"Yeah," Blaine agrees. "But what about this isn't?"

Cooper touches the side of his face and gives Blaine this impossibly sad look. "You have a boyfriend, Blaine."

"He's not you."

Cooper's mouth finds his again and it's all Blaine can do to hold on. Cooper's body is so familiar against his, more so even than Kurt's, and that's the damnedest thing because Blaine doesn't even remember the actual sex. He knew they had it the morning after because he woke up sore and there was come all over him and between his thighs, but he didn't remember it and Coop wouldn't talk about it, so Blaine still doesn't even know if it was any good. Doesn't stop him from wanting it now, though.

"Did you really get yourself ready?" Cooper asks. "Or were you just saying that?"

"Find out," Blaine says, and turns over on his hands and knees, ass pressed up against his brother's groin.

Cooper makes a noise like he's being strangled and peels Blaine's pajama bottoms down his thighs. He leaves them resting there between his knees, and then he groans, low and deep, and presses two of his fingers into Blaine.

They go in easy, slick and loose, and he bites down on the curve of Blaine's ass.

"I hate you so much, kid."

"No, you don't," Blaine says. "Tell me you've got a condom this time?"

"Why, worried about your little boyfriend all the sudden?"

Blaine shoots Cooper a glare over his shoulder but Cooper produces a condom from his suitcase anyway.

He pushes in hard and fast and Blaine grips the sheets until his knuckles turn white with how good it is. He wasn't lying before--Kurt really did used to take charge a little in bed and Blaine loved it, but he's been so busy with NYADA lately that it's rare they actually make time for sex and when they do, it's gentle and sweet. Blaine knows it's because Kurt is thinking about the fact that he's leaving soon and Blaine likes that but it's been so long since he's just been out-and-out fucked that he's unprepared for the hard thrust of Cooper's hips against his. He cries out until Coop slams a hand over his mouth and whispers, "Mom and Dad are right down the hall, you want them to come check on you and see this?"

"They wouldn't come check on me even if I did scream," Blaine bites back, but he muffles the sound on Coop's forearm the next time he feels a moan bubble up in his throat.

Cooper fucks him hard and fast, whispering in his ear and asking him if Kurt fucks him like this (no), if Blaine's so sure he's all grown up (yes), if it feels good and if he wants more (please). Blaine is so close to coming just from that when Cooper pulls out entirely. Blaine has all of ten seconds to whine high in his throat, clenching down on nothing and about to beg to be filled back up when Cooper turns him over on his back and pushes his thighs apart.

"I want to see you," he says. "I want to watch your face."

"Please," Blaine begs again, and then Cooper's back inside, pushing Blaine's legs up and out. He's flexible from too many weeks of Schuester's booty camp and he grips his brother's arms tight, eyes rolling up into his head when Cooper finds that spot inside him.

"You--fuck, you have no idea," Cooper says. "How long, how many times--fuck, felt like a fucking disgusting pervert but I can't help it, Blaine, I can't, I just want it and--"

"I know," Blaine gasps. "Me, too."

He barely touches himself when he comes, Cooper's palm over his mouth to muffle the strangled cry that tears at his throat, and he sags boneless against the bed while Cooper keeps fucking him.

Each thrust makes him whine but Cooper doesn't stop. He goes slow and deep, watching Blaine, and they keep eye contact until Cooper comes.

Cooper stays there inside him, just watching Blaine try to catch his breath for longer than is probably necessary, but when he pulls out Blaine groans and grips at him. He feels emptier than usual after sex and Cooper gives him a pitying look before kissing him gently on the lips.

"Well," he says as he ties the condom off, "clean up's easier than last time."

Blaine swallows. "You--you remember it?"

Cooper stares at him. "You don't?"

"No. I woke up and I figured what we'd done because...I mean..." He blushes, unsure why he's suddenly so shy, but it feels awkward to just say what he woke up with his brother's come drying all over his ass.


"And then you wouldn't talk to me. You just...walked out and I was so confused and I didn't know if--I mean, it was good, right? I didn't suck at it or anything?"

"No," Cooper sighs. "God, no. I mean...a little green but it was amazing. That's why I had to leave. I thought I was over it by now but..." He shrugs helplessly. "You've gotten better. Maybe I don't hate Kurt so much if he gave you the chance to practice."

"Is that what it was? Practice for--for you?"

"Blaine...come on, you can't be asking me that."

"An hour ago, I couldn't be in your bed," Blaine points out. "So I'm asking."

"My life is in L.A."

"And I graduate in a year."

"Don't you have plans with your boyfriend to move to New York?"

"Cooper, you know that I would rather--"

Coop shakes his head and cards his fingers through Blaine's hair.

"Go to New York with your boyfriend, kid. Broadway needs you. I'll see you at Christmasses."


"But what? You think you can move to L.A. and we could be together? How the fuck would that work, Blaine?"

"I don't know. If I did, it would make sense for me to live with you. Big city, don't know anybody, don't have any money...why wouldn't I shack up with my big brother?"

"For awhile," Cooper says gently. "But eventually, it gets weird. Eventually people will ask why you haven't moved out. Or--fuck, I mean, don't you think Mom and Dad would wonder why neither of us ever bring home boyfriends or girlfriends?"

"I--I don't know we could lie or--"

"For the rest of their lives? Look, I get it, and--" He smooths his hand down Blaine's arm. "And okay, fine, it's obvious that I'd want that. But you're not thinking it through. You're a kid."

"I'm not a kid," Blaine interrupts. "God, how can you fuck me like that and then still think I'm some child you have to coddle?"

"I'm not--I'm not coddling you. But I've been thinking about this for a lot longer than you have and it wouldn't work. Eventually people would start asking questions that neither of us want to answer."

"So we'll deal with that when it happens. I'm not asking you to tell the entire world, I'm just asking you to give this a chance instead of running off and leaving me here again. I can't--you can't leave me, Coop. I don't even know how I survived it the first time."

"I had to. You were just a kid, Blaine. Maybe you're not now, but you were then. You were so young and I'd fucked you and I woke up pressed up against you and when I pulled back I could see where my come had dripped out of you all over your ass and my groin and we were fucking stuck together. It took me forever to pry us apart and then I had to go throw up and it wasn't because of a hangover. It was because of what I'd done to you. I'm sorry that I left but if I hadn't, I probably couldn't have lived with myself."

"And I can't live with myself if you leave again. So don't. Or--or promise me that I can come live with you after graduation."

Cooper sighs and presses his lips to Blaine's forehead.

"You can visit," he says. "But your life is in New York, with Kurt."

Blaine shakes his head but he's so tired of arguing that he doesn't press it. He buries his face against Cooper's chest instead, breathing in the smell of him. He doesn't want him to go back to L.A. and he doesn't want to be left here with a sore ass and cold bed again, even though he knows beyond any doubt that that is exactly what's going to happen. He feels tears spring to his eyes but he fights them back, opting to just hold onto Coop and breathe.