LOVE IS A GAME BUT I’M NOT REALLY A PLAYER

Spending time with Blaine when they’re not having sex is a dreadful, dreadful affair.

Leo didn’t know it before – how could he? He barely knew him as a human being, after all, his idea of Blaine being “that annoying jerk who comes and goes with no forewarning and sometimes, but only sometimes, makes me think bad, bad things, things I shouldn’t think at all but I like to dwell in when I’m alone in my bed at night” – but he found out hanging out with him.

Or, well, whatever it is this thing they’re doing, which Leo isn’t certain could be defined as hanging out with.

Fact is, Blaine’s old. Sure, not decrepitly so, but he’s old nonetheless, and what’s worse is he’s old in his brain before he’s old in his body. Him being so fit leads to great sex, sure, but that deep oldness inside of him, that makes for very, very boring hours after sex is over and they have to find some way to spend time together even though there’s literally nothing they’ve got in common.

Before he started this thing he has with Blaine, “age difference” was just a vague concept in his mind. The words had a meaning, sure, but it was just that, nothing practical, just a meaning, and an exciting one too, something connected with MILFs and very bad and at the same time extraordinarily arousing porn movies watched on his phone while hiding under the blankets in his bed at night.

He found out – thanks to Blaine and his ridiculous last-century-ness – that there’s much more to age difference than something potentially sexy. And when you take that sexiness out of it, only boredom is what’s left. Because sure, Blaine’s experienced, and he uses his hands and mouth in ways that make Leo forget entirely how he’s called, where he lives and even what time in history this is, but boy, he’s so precociously middle-aged sometimes Leo looks at him and he only wants to cry.

Like now, for example.

Blaine’s sitting at the desk in a corner of the hotel room they’re sharing for the afternoon. He’s wearing a fucking dressing gown that’s so ugly it manages somehow to make Leo forget he’s naked underneath. And he’s staring at his computer, reading some paper on it or something, with fucking glasses sliding down his nose, and he doesn’t simply look old, no, he looks ancient, and Leo’s been watching him for the past twenty minutes and all his brain’s been able to produce in all this time is a question: what the hell am I doing here with Methuselah’s last living son?

“Didn’t know you wore glasses,” he says, stretching like a cat on the bed, making sure the covers don’t fall off him, leaving him naked. Doesn’t matter how many times Blaine has seen him like that already, he can’t bear to show himself when they’re not in an explicitly sexual situation. And even then, he prefers to do it when the lights are off, no matter how many times Blaine has tried to convince him already that there’s nothing shameful in having sex while looking at each other, other than simply feeling one another in perfect darkness.

“In fact, I don’t,” Blaine answers nonchalantly, never moving his eyes away from the computer screen, “It’s for my new show. My character there wears glasses.”

“And, don’t tell me,” Leo snorts, “You’re one of those actors that really climb the Everest barehanded when they’re gonna play a dude who did that, right?”

“Not really, no,” Blaine chuckles, “I just hate the feeling of glasses weighing on my nose, and so, since I’m bound to wear them for at least three months, six days a week, two times per day, I thought it’d be smart of me to get used to it before I’m forced to do it.”

“Even your parts are boring,” Leo sighs, hiding his head underneath the pillow, “I bet you play some sort of old professor whining about his old age and envying a younger, hipper teacher everybody loves.”

“You’re wrong,” Blaine shakes his head. He still refuses to look at him, and this is starting to bother Leo a great deal. “I do play a professor, hence the glasses, but he’s a cool one. He wanders the world searching for items of great value, some of them imbued with magic or with ancient curses, to protect the world from the end of days that would surely fall upon it if he didn’t do his job correctly.”

Leo emerges from under the pillow, staring at him. “You kidding me?” he asks.

Blaine laughs shortly. “Yep,” he says, “I play an old professor whining about his old age and envying a younger, hipper teacher everybody loves.”

“Seriously?!”

Blaine laughs out loud, this time, finally turning the chair to look at him. “I’m fucking with you,” he reassures him. “I play no professor at all, it’s just a guy with glasses. Boring as it may be.”

Leo blushes vividly, embarrassed for having been played around. “You’re awful,” he growls, glaring at him, “I wouldn’t come watch one of your shows if you paid me.”

“I have two nude scenes in this guy with glasses thing.”

“How much did you say those tickets cost?”

Blaine laughs again, throwing his head back. “Still fucking with you.”

“Can you stop?!” Leo yells, blushing even more, “At least come back here and do it properly, I’m dying of boredom.”

“Alright, first of all,” Blaine says, counting on his fingers, “I’m not your personal vibrating self-warming sex toy, I do not exist to entertain you when you’re bored.” Leo groans, rolling his eyes, and Blaine chuckles, amused. “Secondly, we literally just had sex.”

“You mean two hours ago.”

“No, kid,” Blaine shakes his head, “You arrived around half past four. It’s half past five. Do the math.”

“…no chance it was a very quick, very brief sex session, huh?”

“You came twice.”

“That’s irrelevant, I’m fifteen.”

“And you love to remind me,” Blaine laughs tenderly, shaking his head, “But no, wasn’t a short session and you certainly didn’t come twice because you’re a teenager. Anyway,” he sighs, “Even if we had had sex two hours ago, I still wouldn’t be up for it again, because I’m not fifteen at all.”

“And you love to remind me,” Leo sighs, receiving a pillow on his face as an answer.

“So find a different way to distract yourself,” Blaine goes on, “Don’t you have homework?”

“Yeah,” Leo snorts, rolling on the bed, “If I had them, this is totally the place I would bring them to.”

“Ah, so as long as you’re staying with me, you’re not studying,” Blaine inquires, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course not,” Leo answers, frowning, “This,” he says, pointing at Blaine and then at himself quickly, “Is not a studying situation. Nor a… reading at your computer situation. Is that what you do with your lovers? You screw them once and then you sit down at your desk and read or whatever it is you’re doing?”

“So we’re lovers, now,” Blaine grins.

“Don’t bug me with the technicalities,” Leo grunts, waving his hand in mid-air.

“So sorry,” Blaine chuckles, amused. “Now I’m curious, though. What do you expect lovers to be doing when they finish having sex?”

“More sex?” Leo asks, tilting his head. He’s genuinely surprised at the question, because he thought the answer was pretty obvious.

“…yes, right,” Blaine chuckles, “So what about when they’re not fifteen anymore?”

“You keep insisting only fifteen years old have sex multiple times per day.”

“You were the first suggesting the idea.”

“Shut up, you’re so annoying!” Leo growls, throwing his hands up in the air, “You can’t be talked with. You’re confusing and obnoxious. Stop.”

“Stop doing what?” Blaine chuckles again, “Being annoying, confusing or obnoxious?”

“All of the above!” Leo concludes with a louder grunt, “Enough of the silly talking. I can’t make sense of you. Now you do something I like.”

“More sex?”

“No,” Leo glares at him, “I’m angry at you and I hate you right now, if you touch me, even with a stick, I’ll set you on fire.”

“Fair enough,” Blaine smiles and stands up, walking back to the bed and sitting next to Leo, “So, what should we do?”

That’s a scary question, one Blaine shouldn’t be asking. In fact, Leo frowns. The man knows he should be the one providing the fun entertainment. Not because Leo can’t think of anything fun on his own, but because apparently all his propositions – and they’ve been through them a lot – are unsustainable for them.

Like for example going out for an ice cream and a movie, or just a fucking walk, for example. Blaine seems convinced that, the very moment they’ll step out of this hotel room to enter the world of the living, everybody will look at them and understand in an instant that they’re fucking, breaking at least a couple laws while doing so, and so they’ll – or better, Blaine will – be looked at like monsters and someone will report them to the police, ending their life and breaking hell loose upon them or something equally and uselessly overdramatic.

Not that Leo wants to have a date with the man, of course. That’d be ridiculous and gross. But it’d still be better than spend the entirety of their afternoon locked in there in self-inflicted incarceration in fear of a real life one. If only for the thrill.

But no, that’s not an option and every time they discuss it Blaine ends up scolding him for being childish and irresponsible, and every time they do Blaine turns cold and he seems to rethink the whole matter of being together, as if he was suddenly realizing he made a huge mistake, and Leo can’t afford that to happen, for some reason, can’t afford the thought of hearing him say “listen, kid, it was good while it lasted, but this can’t go on, we’re just too different, too far apart, we have to break it off” and watching him walk away, so no. The Dating Issue won’t be brought up, not by him.

“Well,” he concedes with a sigh, “I’ve got cards.”

Blaine looks at him, puzzled. “Cards?” he asks, “As in, Blackjack cards? Bridge cards?”

“Obviously not,” Leo answers, making a face, “Who plays those games anymore?”

“I have no idea,” Blaine shakes his head, “Uno, then?”

“What are you, twelve?!” Leo snorts, annoyed, “I mean trading cards.”

“Oh,” Blaine blinks, surprised, “Like Pokémon.”

“Yeah,” Leo sighs, “Except I’m not five, so it’s not Pokémon.”

Blaine chuckles, tilting his head. “You’ve got a lot of age-related limitations, don’t you? You’re too young for classic cards game, I’m too old for Uno and you’re definitely too grown-up for Pokémon. How does that work?”

“That’s how it works, you shut up and listen,” Leo cuts the argument short, blushing a little as he stands up, goofily wrapping himself in the blanket and walking towards his backpack, that he dropped on the floor right next to the door the very moment he stepped into the room and flew between Blaine’s arms.

“We’re nervous, aren’t we?” Blaine chuckles again, looking intently at the bundle of covers crouching on the floor.

“We’re not, and stop using first person plural, it’s creepy.”

“You just used it too.”

“You’re infecting me with your creepiness,” Leo concludes, standing up and turning towards him again. He’s got a small cardboard box in his hands, pretty colorful, clearly not new but kept in outrageously mint conditions, especially for having been into a teenager’s backpack up until thirty seconds before. “I seem to recall having asked you to shut up and listen.”

“You most definitely did,” Blaine nods, offering him the most charming of his trademark smiles, “But I never agreed.”

Predictably enough, Leo turns away and blushes.

“Well, agree now,” he mutters, walking back to the bed and sitting cross-legged on it, hidden by the cover as if they were a tent from which only his head popped out.

“You know you look like a bunch of broccoli, don’t you?”

“Blaine!” Leo whines, and Blaine laughs, raising both arms.

“Alright, alright,” he concedes, settling more comfortably in front of him, “I will shut up and listen.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Blaine swears solemnly.

That’s enough, Leo thinks, and then nods, putting down the box on the bed and opening it, spreading the cards in between them. “Okay,” he says, “This game is called Majik Revolution, and it’s set on Noeïn, a fantasy world in which magic has been wiped out of existence for a decade, throwing the people back into the Dark Ages.”

“Wait a second,” Blaine arches an eyebrow, “These people were sent back into the Dark Ages by being deprived of magic? What’s been of cellphones, cars, computers, hot water and electricity?”

“It’s a fantasy world,” Leo groans, “They used magic for everything, from boiling water to turn their devices on.”

“Unpractical,” Blaine arches an eyebrow, “But, more importantly: in ten years no one up there was ever able to discover fire?”

“Oh, come on!” Leo whines again, “I thought you had promised to shut up and listen! You said ‘cross my heart and hope to die’, why aren’t you dead now?!”

“You’re right,” Blaine chuckles, “You’re right, I’m sorry. My bad. Please, do continue.”

“Mhn,” Leo puffs, pouting a bit. He waits for a few seconds, just to be sure Blaine isn’t going to interrupt him again with some other silly question, and then he moves on. “Okay, so, magic’s been gone, as I told you, but now it’s coming back. A group of heroes has managed to find a way to open the portals that kept magic away, and magic’s slowly pouring back through them into the world.”

“Well, that’s good news,” Blaine nods, “Now the good people of Noeïn can finally have a shower.”

“You are unbelievably stupid,” Leo sighs, passing a hand over his face, “And you need to stop talking now.”

“No, but I’m curious,” Blaine chuckles, “I wonder where the cheap fantasy novel stops and the card game begins.”

“They’re one and the same, you impossible, unbearable man!” Leo growls, throwing his arms back up in the air, “This is a trading card games, so it has a set and a plot to follow! It’s not that hard to understand.”

“That’s right,” Blaine giggles, “So what is it, this plot we must follow?”

“Well, the game is for two up to five players,” Leo explains professionally, “Each player chooses a role and a side. There are five categories from which you can pick your role, majis, kingslings, poorelings, knafes and overlaws, each having its own power points and weakness points. As for the side, the game works with a basic fantasy alignment system, which means you can be Lawful Good, Neutral Good, Chaotic Good, Lawful Neutral, True Neutral, Chaotic Neutral, Lawful Evil, Neutral Evil or Chaotic Evil. You following me?”

Blaine blinks a couple of times. “It all sounds rather confusing, I must admit.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Leo snorts dismissively, “Adam got it.”

“Who’s Adam?”

Leo sighs. “My best friend.”

“Oh,” Blaine nods, “In that case, Adam’s fifteen.”

“Who’s having all the age-related limitations, now?”

“God, you are so annoying,” Leo sighs again, “It’s not that hard! You have cards, you make yourself a good selection of them, then play accordingly to what your role and alignment dictate.”

“Still trying to figure out there the role playing game ends and the trading cards one starts, then,” Blaine chuckles.

Leo doesn’t answer, and decides it’s best to turn away and give it up entirely. Sometimes it seems like the problem is not even that they can’t communicate anymore, no, it’s something deeper. It’s like they didn’t even speak the same language, as if they came from foreign countries. Nothing Blaine says makes sense to Leo, at best it’s annoying and bothering him to no end, and what’s worse is that he can’t even blame Blaine entirely because he senses it’s just the same for him, that the things Leo says makes as much sense for him as the things he says make for Leo, which is very little, if any.

How could it be possible to feel so connected with him in the most weird ways when they’re having sex, or in sudden ridiculous moments in which they don’t even need to speak to share a thought, and then fall so far apart from one another as to be unable to conduct a conversation without hating each other’s guts, that’s completely beyond him. He doesn’t understand. It shouldn’t even be possible.

Blaine sighs deeply, moving closer to him on the bed. “You’re angry at me, aren’t you?” he says sweetly.

“Yes,” Leo answers right away, “You promised you shut up and you didn’t. Your promises are worth nothing. I don’t even know why you keep making them, if you fail them every time.”

“I can’t help it,” Blaine chuckles, “I love to see your happy face, and that face only shows up when I promise something good.”

“Well, that same face goes away rather fast if you don’t deliver, doesn’t it?” Leo retorts, kind of angrily, turning to look at him.

Blaine’s still smiling. There’s an air of complete surrender and serenity to his smile, as if he already knew where this thing is leading them, and had already make his peace with it.

Sometimes Leo wishes he could see as far as Blaine seems to be able to do. Maybe then it’d be easier for him. To know what’s gonna happen and decide if it’s worth it or not.

“Don’t smile like that,” he says, looking down.

Blaine slips his arms around his shoulders and Leo surrenders to him instantly, resting his head against his chest. “Sorry,” Blaine says, his voice echoing all around Leo’s head, making him feel wrapped up in some sort of warm, softly purring blanket, like a personal Totoro. “Sometimes I have no idea how to act around you.”

“Please, don’t start again with the age difference crap,” Leo whines, rubbing his face against the soft fabric of Blaine’s dressing gown, which might look ugly, but feels heavenly soft, “I’ve had my fill for a lifetime, both from you and my parents. And even my best friends, actually, so don’t.”

“Well,” Blaine chuckles, placing a tender kiss on top of his head, “I just meant that I don’t really know you as a person that well, yet, do I? But yes, the age difference crap might be one of the reasons too.”

“Shut up,” Leo sighs, his arms emerging from the blanket to close around Blaine’s waist. In the movement, the blanket falls off his shoulders and pools around his hips, leaving him bare.

“You’re practically naked,” Blaine notes, leaving a soft kiss on his temple, “Doesn’t that bother you now?”

“Not really, no,” Leo answers, slowly shaking his head, “Probably ‘cause there are so many other things that bother me right now that nakedness doesn’t even show up on the list.”

“Again, I’m sorry,” Blaine smiles, “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“I suppose playing cards with me is out of the question?” Leo asks, raising his eyes on him.

Blaine chuckles wholeheartedly. “Kid,” he says, “I wouldn’t know where to even start and, let’s face it, you’re not the most patient of teachers.”

Leo sighs, hiding his face against his chest again. “That’s right,” he has to admit. Not that it makes him feel any better.

“But if you want,” Blaine goes on in a soft whisper, “I can be a kingsling and you can be the pooreling I might want to have my way with,” he adds in a little chuckle, “I work better with role play than I do with card play.”

Leo looks up at him again, blushing faintly. “I’d have to call you Sir,” he says.

“You don’t sound bothered by the thought.”

“’Cause I am not,” Leo answers quickly, tilting his head up and leaning in for a kiss.

Maybe that’s just all there is to it, he thinks as Blaine kisses him deeply and lays him down on the bed, maybe there’s no need to fret over speaking the same language or two very different ones, there’s no need to fret over kept promises and broken ones, no need to fret over how far apart they seem at times and how scary and confusing it feels when the rope tying them together suddenly tighten its knot bringing them back too close for comfort to one another. It can be just like this, swimming through the dark waters of when things are off, floating on the surface when the waters are clear and blue and things are perfect and they feel good.

Maybe it’s not that they’re not the same and could never be. Maybe they just aren’t yet. And they just ought to give themselves some time.

Whether it turns out to be a winning bet or not, Leo doesn’t need to know right now. As long as he can keep playing.