LOVE IS A GAME THAT TWO CAN PLAY AND BOTH LOSE

They know the drill. It’s amazing how little time it actually took them to slip into this routine. Blaine honestly wasn’t expecting it to be this easy – he doesn’t really know how he was expecting it to be, or if he was expecting it to be in any way at all, but if he was this wasn’t it, that’s for sure. He’s been off the whole “dating” thing for so long he’s not even sure this, what they’re doing, qualifies at all. And he feels too old for dating, anyway.

Cody, on the other hand, he isn’t. Oh, he’s a lot of things, this marvelous kid, this boy out of a Gaiman novel, this pretty thing, this tiny thing all skin and bones, so short and yet all legs, those endless legs he keeps bare most of the time. He’s a lot of things but he certainly isn’t too old for the dating game, which is why, Blaine supposes, he’s having such fun playing it.

Blaine’s having fun too, obviously. If he wasn’t, he probably wouldn’t even bother. But it’s a different kind of fun. Cody’s careless, lighthearted, enjoying it every step of the way. He’s more considered – he has to be, there’s no way out of this. Regardless of the fact that Cody’s tied up with his past in dangerous ways, ways Blaine tries not to even think about most of the time, lest he spoils the little fun he’s permitted to have, Cody’s still very young, and Blaine needs to keep that in mind. Besides, he’s got a son and a career, and those can’t, in any way, come in second place right now, or ever, actually.

He managed to turn all this into some game Cody can enjoy too, though. He put their relationship under a cloak, he made it something thrilling, something secret, and Cody likes that. He finds it amusing. Like with Timmy, for example. To sneak in and out of the house without the kid seeing him has become something of a quest, for Cody. Granted, it’s an easy one – Cody mostly hangs around at Blaine’s place at night, and by that time the kid’s already sleeping – but it’s still something to cling to, to make something sad (Blaine’s discreet and silent but firm refusal to let him meet the boy, despite Cody never even asking for it) a little funnier. A little more bearable.

Parties are more or less the same. The fact that Blaine’s been working non-stop for the last two years or so finally turned his career from the one of a famous enough actor praised by critics but not really known to the mainstream audience into the one of an outright celebrity.

Parties and social gatherings have become more than a simple hobby, they’re a requirement now. Blaine never really liked to attend such events – mostly because he doesn’t entirely like people; which is why he’s always gone with one night stands, except for a few, meaningful exceptions: he finds people most unbearable when he knows he’s going to have to deal with them for an undetermined amount of time; it’s way easier to deal with them when knowing they’re going to be gone the next day, possibly never to be seen again – but Dotty was unmovable, and there was no way out of it. “Either you stop playing the hermit, or you find somebody else to look after your interests. I can’t be the agent of a sociopath. Sociopaths don’t need agents, they need therapists.”

That made Blaine laugh, but despite the blatantly incorrect diagnosis he had to admit Dotty had a point. He always refused invitations (staying home playing peekaboo with Timmy beat showing up to some upper class snobby Broadway junkie any time) and, those few times he actually said yes, he wasn’t exactly the life of the party. It was playing against his career, he was making a name of a gloomy, mysterious person for himself and Dotty wasn’t pleased with it. He wasn’t pleased with it either, to be honest: he might not be the most cheerful and lighthearted person who ever walked the earth, but he’s not gloomy either.

So, when Dotty told him he had to do better, he unwillingly but resignedly complied. And it was easy, until Cody came along. Now, they’ve only been together a few days and, as far are together goes, they’re not together much, but since they mainly get to hang out at night the mere idea of having to ditch him to hand out fake plastic smiles to people he cares exactly nothing about doesn’t exactly make him spring up in joy and excitement.

Solution: bring Cody along.

Problem: they can’t be seen together.

Dotty was pretty adamant about it. “Who’s this kid?” she asked.

“A kid,” Blaine answered.

“Are you two together?” she inquired, frowning suspiciously.

Blaine shrugged. “Sort of,” he said.

“The answer’s no,” she replied sternly. And then she sighed, deeply, sadly, before speaking with the voice of a mother, something she’s been forced to do a lot since they started working together. “I’m not trying to be mean, dear,” she said, “It’s just that you need to understand you can’t have everything. A career, a son, now a twenty years younger than you sort-of-boyfriend. That’s not how life works. Do you understand?”

He did.

Still, accepting the fact isn’t as easy as understanding it. A different solution needed to be found because, as irrelevant and inconsequential as his relationship with Cody might be, he simply wasn’t ready to do without him. So he pulled some strings, he talked with the right people, and in but a few days the golden doors of New York’s upper class were all wide open, seemingly waiting for Cody with arms wide open.

He plays the part of the young descendant of some old Broadway legend, a part that fits him perfectly because he showed in various occasion how his knowledge of that world easily beat anybody else’s at those parties. Also, he’s so ridiculously beautiful people ultimately don’t even care if he really is who he said he is. They enjoy his company and that’s more than enough to grant him safe passage over those waters.

The only catch is that he can’t approach Blaine publicly. He can’t talk to him, lest somebody catches a glimpse of what their relationship might be, and to be perfectly safe he can’t even come close. When somebody introduces them to one another, they smile politely and answer with a vague “oh, yes, I believe we met already some other time, am I right…?” and that’s it, they don’t talk at all for the rest of the night.

It isn’t ideal, and the first time it happened it honestly was so sad and cheap Blaine decided to try and turn it into yet another game, to try and see if it could get better.

It did.

The rules are simple: they keep not talking to one another except when they have to, forced by the circumstances, but to make up for it they’re constantly looking at each other. They’re mastering the skills that let them effortlessly pretend they’re looking at the person they’re talking with, showing interest in what they’re saying too, while really all they’re doing is searching for one another’s eyes in the crowd and discretely smiling at each other whenever they know they aren’t being watched.

It’s fun, and it’s even more fun when, using some lame excuse or another, they manage to get away from whoever’s keeping them busy to meet in the toilet. They don’t touch there either, obviously. It’d be awesome to just lock themselves in one of the bathrooms and make out until the party was over, but it’d be too dangerous, and they don’t want to risk it. Instead, they play a different kind of game. Washing their hands or combing their hair and rearranging their clothes, they look at each other’s reflections in the mirror and exchange some random set phrases – “marvelous party”, “magnificent”, “and have you tried those delicious hors d'oeuvre?”, “absolutely, they are to die for!” – but it’s the smile, the knowing smile, the warm, intimate smile they trade during those short, meaningless conversations that gives them the real thrill. It’s like playing cat and mouse, but nobody’s hunting and nobody’s being hunted. It’s a very safe way to chase after one another, and they both enjoy it a lot.

Sure, there are other rules to follow, and those are harder to turn into something fun. They must always leave the party at different times, for example. Usually Blaine goes first, and Cody’s forced to hang around a minimum of thirty minutes more before he too can leave. And Blaine can’t just wait for him downstairs, of course. He needs to go home and dismiss the babysitter, while Cody slowly drives towards his house in his own car carefully choosing all the smallest, most indirect roads he knows of, not to make his destination too obvious, always parking a few blocks away from Blaine’s actual address and making sure to walk into the building from the access in the parking lot, less known to the paparazzi and less visible from the place they usually hang out to in the front of the building.

Blaine supposes this could be seen as some sort of undercover game too, but at some point in the night, when they’ve been playing for hours already, they just want to be together, and playing more isn’t a treat anymore, only a tease.

This isn’t just another party, though. This was actually organized for Blaine himself by none other than Mrs. June Dolloway, one hundred and three years old and counting, one of his oldest supporters and friends. It was her who first believed in his talent when nobody else seemed to, it was her who picked him up from the mess of underwear modeling and club dancing he had thrown himself into after his tumultuous break up with Kurt and all that had followed it, it was her who polished him, taught him all he knew about acting and singing professionally and finally presented him to Broadway, always treating him as if he was The Thing New York had always been waiting for since it was founded in 1664, admonishing him never to forget it, never to forget that this is how you have to act if you want people to know you’re worth a thing: you have to believe you’re worth a thing yourself.

Blaine would have never refused an invitation from Mrs. Dalloway, and the occasion – being nominated for yet another Tony, after his last nomination the previous year – made it even more impossible to answer no to. “This is gonna be one of the long ones, isn’t it?” Cody asked yesterday night, lying on his bed, naked and barely covered by the sheets, his pale, soft body mildly sweaty and moving just slightly with each and every breath he took.

“The longest,” Blaine answered. Cody just smiled sadly, and Blaine kissed him to make that sad smile disappear.

The problem is, they want to be together. Really, they need to. It’s an urge more than a simple pleasure, and Blaine knows it’s wrong – oh, he knows he’s projecting; just as much as Cody is, actually – but he isn’t ready to give up on it. He isn’t ready to follow the path to the end either, though. He isn’t ready, or perhaps he just doesn’t want to, because he doesn’t think it’s worth it. What does he know about this kid, after all? That he’s ridiculously beautiful and kind. That he’s got a cute sense of humor. That he’s extremely talented at drawing. That he dreams of moving to Italy, some day. And despite how much he likes all these qualities, none of them are the real reason why they’re together now, because the real reason is just that, that Cody is Leonard’s ex-boyfriend. That Blaine’s clinging to him because he can’t cling to Leo anymore. And that’s it. All the rest is accessory. It’s not necessary. It’s a plus that makes time spent with Cody even more pleasant, but it’s not the reason, it’s not the core of it.

No matter how sad it is, he knows it’s exactly the same for Cody. So it’s alright to be in this relationship as long as it’s evanescent, as long as it’s something that will ultimately have no consequence in their real life, much like a dream. But the thought of actually following the path, see where it leads, see if there’s a concrete future for them, that’s not even being taken into consideration.

And that’s alright, generally speaking. But it isn’t in night like this. When Blaine and Cody haven’t spent a second together, when they haven’t seen each other all day and are forced to play the part of the strangers in front of everybody.

It’s easy to say “I’m alright with just this, I don’t need anything more” when he’s already holding Cody in his arms, when there doesn’t seem to even be anything more than being close. It’s not as easy to say the same when he’s got nothing, and even a stolen glance is more than he can afford. If a stolen glance is more, and he’s allowed to want that more, then he’s allowed to want all the different mores his mind can possibly think of. Like a real relationship. Like something stronger than just a waking dream. Like something Blaine really doesn’t want to think about, because knowing he can’t possibly have it would only make it more painful.

They won’t be spending the night together, today, that much Blaine already knows. It’s already midnight, and there’s no way he’s going to be home before 1 AM. Maybe even 2 AM, if June is in the mood for one of her highly alcoholic after-parties. Which means he’s going to have to call the babysitter, and ask her to spend the night at his place, to look after Timothy while he’s out. Of course, having the babysitter over rules out entirely the possibility of having Cody even step a foot in his house. Too dangerous, and though he’d trust young Missy Bellblock with Timmy’s life if it was needed – the girl loves children, he sees that she’s well-paid for her job and she’s been taking care of Timmy for over a year, now –, he’s not so sure her lips would remain sealed if he came to know about their relationship. It’s the kind of secret that earns you a lifetime’s worth money, if well sold. He can’t risk it.

So, no Cody tonight. No soft kisses and no warm embraces. No wet lips running up and down that glorious white body, no milky thighs spreading for him, no straight black hair being held in his closed fist while he goes down on him, no going down on him of his own, savoring him as if he was his last meal. No pretty, blissful smile after his orgasm. No sharing the bed until it’s time to go, until it’s time to leave.

No Cody— Nothing— Nothing except loneliness to deal with.

For a moment, the thought is simply unbearable. He feels it weight over his own shoulders, and he’d like for it to be something physical like a rock or something, so he could cast it away, break it somehow. But it’s not. It’s only heavy because it’s weighing inside him, making him slower and older with each passing day. Ageing doesn’t kill people, he’s sure of it now, it’s just the weight of the years, that’s what brings you to your end.

He smiles politely to Mrs. Dalloway, sitting on her wheeled chair by his side, and pats her gently on the back of her hand to catch her attention, interrupting a conversation he wasn’t even listening to anyway. “I’m going to go catch some fresh hair,” he tells her, “Can you do without me for a few minutes?”

“Of course, dear,” she answers, squeezing his hand with her own fragile, pale fingers, “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with? I wouldn’t mind.”

“No, June, please,” he chuckles, standing up, “It’s already enough that your guest of honor is about to disappear for five full minutes, don’t deprive your other guests of the shiny presence of their gracious host.”

June laughs, amused, but in the quick nod she gives him Blaine sees that she understood. She knows him well, better than anybody else in this room, and she knows how hard it is for him to withstand an entire party without a few moments of blessed solitude every now and then. So she lets him go and covers for him with her brilliant, clever conversation, as he walks down the hall handing out polite nods and smiles to whoever he meets, until he’s finally out on the terrace, alone and shrouded in silence under the pale light of the moon.

He walks up to the banister, leaning on it and casting a longing glance to the luscious English garden in front of the house. The lake barely visible on the distance, behind the shady grove on the left, the nearby marble fountain surrounded with flowered bushes and the few spots of trees scattered here and there. It seems so peaceful.

“I was about to walk back in,” Cody says, all of a sudden. Blaine doesn’t even turn to look at him. The sound of his voice, instead of startling him, gives him instant peace of mind, and he smiles, exhaling freely as he closes his eyes.

“I didn’t know you were here,” he says. He feels Cody approach and his whole body gets ready for him, even if right now, right here, they can’t even get close.

“I know,” Cody smiles too, stopping right beside him, “If you did, you wouldn’t have come out.”

“Accurate,” Blaine answers in a short laughter, “But we’re breaking a couple of rules, right now,” he adds, “We’re not talking like strangers.”

Cody breathes in the cold air of the night, leaning in to the banister. “I’m not in the mood for games, now,” he says. Blaine can relate. He says nothing, though, he just waits for what’s coming next. And it comes in a couple of minutes because Cody doesn’t really want to say the words, and he decides he can take his sweet time to do that. “I’ll be on my way in ten minutes or so,” he says, “I’m tired and I can see already tonight is not gonna work.”

“You’re perceptive,” Blaine answers with a soft smile, conceding himself to brush the back of Cody’s hand with his fingertips, “And right, unfortunately. I’m sorry about it. But I knew it was going to be a long one. I told you.”

“Which is why I was prepared,” Cody smiles. The sadness in his eyes has blended with his natural expression so completely that it’s mostly undetectable. It seems like there’s none, and at times it seems like it’s all there is.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Blaine says, as if trying to patch up a cut, “I’m free, tomorrow night. We could meet.”

“We certainly will,” Cody chuckles, amused at his attempts at making up for something that ultimately isn’t even his fault. “But tomorrow night is not tonight,” he adds with a small, playful smile.

Blaine’s body awakens like flowers in spring. He can feel his skin getting hotter, his senses heightening, some mysterious tickling sensation making his limbs itch. “No, it’s not,” he answers, moistening his lips. “What are we going to do about it?”

Cody chuckles, excited like a kid. Yet another game. A different set of rules. “I explored our host’s house for a while, right after dinner,” he said, “There’s a bathroom upstairs.”

“That’s June’s personal bathroom, you wicked child,” Blaine answers with a laughter, “We’re not allowed in there. How many other rules do you want to break tonight?”

“Honestly?” Cody smiles, and it’s a different smile than the usual ones. It’s somehow melancholic, twice as beautiful because it’s honest to the core. Blaine finds himself wanting to taste it, anticipating the moment when he will be able to. “All the rules there are,” Cody says, “Just for tonight. I wanna break them all.”

Blaine chuckles, nodding and telling him to precede him upstairs. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” he says. He says it as if he wanted to spend a few minutes more admiring the landscape. He doesn’t, and he’s just sending Cody up first because it would be suspect if they went back in and then up together, but he doesn’t feel like saying it, right now. He feels like saying a little white lie, as if it was true that he’s staying out there just to breathe in the night air.

It’s not just a game, he tells himself, breathing fully in and out, it’s not just a waking dream. It’s mostly that, but there are crumbs of truth they keep scraping out the thick wall of reality, and they matter more than what they’ll never be able to get.