THE CRASHING DOWN OF HOLLOW YEARS

The invitation arrives during breakfast.

Quite obviously, none of them is expecting it. Not Leo, who didn’t even have an idea such an event was going to take place at all. Not Cody, who – though knowing the reward was bound to arrive – honestly thought Lord Anderson would’ve chosen to handle matters privately, possibly coming by for a quick call to deliver the medal of honor to his son personally. Certainly not Blaine, who was a hundred percent sure that, the moment the Army would’ve called on his father to ask him to give such an award to Blaine after his glorious comeback from the battlefield, he’d have certainly answered not only that he didn’t want to have anything to do with his degenerate son anymore, but that he also didn’t think the general staff was making the right choice by awarding such a person with such a formal and important recognition, considering his arguable – to say the least – life choices, despite his unquestionable military valor.

And yet, there’s no doubt about it. The letter is authentic. Anderson’s family seal, carved on red wax and holding the envelope closed, has to be proof enough, even to their unbelieving eyes.

Blaine puts down the fork and discretely wipes his mouth with a tissue, before taking the envelope from the silver tray one of the maids is offering it upon, and both Cody and Leo stare at him motionless, eager to read its contents. Leo even stops messing with the food in his plate, eating only half of it and pushing on the side the things he doesn’t want just to unnerve the maids.

Blaine silently cuts the envelope open and unfolds the letter inside, reading quickly through it. Then he smirks. “Father wishes to invite me and my husband to Anderson mansion, to celebrate my victorious and heroic comeback from the war.”

“He surely is slow at noticing things,” Leo comments, pointing both elbows on the table and resting his chin on his palms, “You came back a month ago.”

Blaine smirks, folding the letter again and putting it back on the tray. “Don’t be fooled, kid,” he answers, “He’s not doing this out of love. Right now, he’s just the highest grade retired army head still living. Of course the general staff wanted him to award me. I still am the only commander who managed to go to war and come back alive,” he adds with a proud grin, “Thrice.”

“Mhn,” Leo shrugs. He doesn’t seem impressed, either way. He starts picking at his food again, while the maids standing at the four corners of the room, waiting to tend to their lords’ every need, cringe visibly. “So, let me get how this works,” he says, talking with his mouth half-full, “They send you to die and then, when you miraculously make it back alive, they give you a medal. Wow. Like, ‘you managed to survive despite us trying our very best to kill you off! Here, take this useless piece of metal and be on your way’. Amazing. Just amazing.”

Blaine laughs wholeheartedly, reaching out to ruffle Leo’s hair. “I understand you disagree with the whole process?”

“Damn right I do,” Leo snorts, swallowing a grape, “It’s stupid and ridiculous. As the rest of your stupid army shit. And the war, of course.”

“The Golden Medal of Honor,” Cody says, after having been uncannily silent the whole while, “Is a very important recognition. Only two other people in history have gotten it.” He turns to look at Blaine and reaches out to stroke the back of his hand, smiling sweetly. “And now they’re three. I’m proud of you.”

Blaine smiles back, his eyes, as usual, filling with sweetness when he lays them upon Cody. “Thank you, pet.”

“Ugh,” Leo grimaces, sticking his tongue out and looking away, “I hate it when you turn into the main characters of a classic romance novel. You’re so cheesy.”

“You mean it wasn’t you who laid down his jacket on that mud puddle in the garden, two days ago, so that Cody could safely step over it without getting his precious slippers dirty?” Blaine teases him with an amused snicker, “That’s outrageous. Who were you out with, my love, if it wasn’t Leo?”

Cody laughs softly, while Leo looks away and blushes, folding his arms over his chest but refusing to answer (because he knows it’s true; he can be just as corny as Blaine is, when dealing with Cody).

“Anyway,” Cody says after a while, drinking some orange juice, “I think we should go.”

Leo frowns, turning to look at him. The invitation only mentioned Blaine and his husband, of course. Not him too. He isn’t even supposed to be here – let alone coming with on such an occasion.

He knows that. It still makes him angry, though.

“Obviously,” he says, standing up in a sudden movement, the chair producing a screeching sound as it scuffs against the marble floor, “Sure. You go wherever you want.”

He leaves the room before anything else can be said, and both Cody and Blaine follow his movements with eyes wide open and a puzzled expression on their faces.

“He didn’t let me finish,” Cody notes, blinking slowly.

Blaine sighs heavily, giving in to a tender smile. “When does he ever?”

*
He’s still pouting when he joins them in the bedroom, more than ten hours later. He’s made himself scarce all day, despite Cody and Blaine’s attempts to find out where he was hiding, but of course, no matter how grumpy and pouty he was, he’d never willingly renounce to sleep in the bed with them at night. He used to, at first, when he thought there was nothing more important than his own rage, his own fury, his own disappointment. He used to, but he stopped.

It’s a matter of principle: he can be annoyed at them for whatever reason, but that spot in the bed is his own, the only thing he knows he can claim as his own in a general situation that leaves him with but a few things he can reasonably claim any property on including himself, and he won’t give it up, not even for one night, not for all the anger his moderately tiny size can contain.

“Ah, Leo,” Blaine smiles, already sitting on the bed with a newspaper half folded on his lap, “We searched for you all day.”

“I’ve been busy,” he mutters as a reply, looking away and swiftly starting to take off his clothes to give himself something to do.

“I can’t imagine doing what,” Blaine chuckles, putting the newspaper away on the nightstand.

“None of your business,” Leo snorts, remaining in his underwear and climbing on the bed.

The bathroom door clacks open and then closed again, and Leo turns to look at Cody just in time to see him walk into the bedroom, his long black hair still a little damp, curling at the end around the perfect oval of his face, making his pale skin even whiter, almost glowing.

He lets out a soft whimper, while Cody’s cherry lips curl into a little smile. “You’re offensively beautiful.”

“And you’re back,” Cody chuckles, amused, “I’m glad.”

Leo moves on his knees to the edge of the bed, stretching out his arms towards Cody, who walks to him slowly, drying his hair with the towel he wears loosely around his shoulders. When he’s within reach, Leo grabs him and drags him closer, pressing a hungry kiss on his lips, his tongue already pushing against them, to gain access to his mouth.

“Ah,” Blain says, a soft smile curling his lips upwards, “Is that how it’s going to be? Silly me, who wanted to talk.”

“We don’t need to talk,” Leo grumbles, moving away from Cody’s lips to look at him, “Why don’t you move your ass and come join us, instead?”

“Mmh,” Blaine pretends to be thinking about it, tilting his head to the left and casting a playfully pensive look to the ceiling, “Can’t I just watch for a while? My old, heavy bones make it impossible for my body to move with a cold start.”

“You’re ridiculous and I should punch you in the face,” Leo answers in a little growl, “You just came back almost unscathed from a freaking war.”

Not more than a few months ago, such a sentence would have caused a deep frown and some seriously scolding words from Blaine, but what happened during last year – fighting with his father and living in fear of being disowned and lose everything for months, then being called back to war to risk his life for the third time in his career, something no one else had ever achieved before, and only barely managing to come back after seemingly disappeared from the face of earth for weeks – clearly changed him, molded him into a softer man. Perhaps a little more tired man, certainly a more pliable one, or maybe just somebody who was slapped in the face by life more than enough to understand that there’s no amount of pride and honor that can compare with the warm embrace of your loved ones.

Which is why, instead of getting angry and scold him, Blaine just smiles, casting a warm, intimate look towards Cody, who answers with a soft laughter and places his hands on both sides of Leo’s head, making him turn back against himself. “He wants to watch,” he explains, making Blaine’s intentions clear enough even for Leo, who usually refuses to understand anything until it gets shoved down his throat.

“Mmh,” he mutters, lowering himself on Cody’s neck and pressing his lips on the soft spot under his earlobe, “Whatever. Come here. Watching you right now isn’t even an option, for me.”

Cody lets out a faint chuckle, melting like hot wax in Leo’s arms, letting him drag him on the bed and lying down, his head on the pillow, his legs slightly parted. The towel wrapped around his body leaves his milky thighs completely bare, and Leo puts his hands on his knees and then pushes them upwards along them, feeling the smoothness of his warm skin against his palms and fingertips, gently inviting him to part his legs.

Cody does it, turning his head to look up at Blaine and smiling sweetly. He looks so pretty it makes Leo’s heart melt into a pool of warm love and affection that courses through his veins, slow and sticky like honey, warming up his limbs.

The curve of his ass emerges from the towel as it unfolds, falling by the sides of his body and resting limp on the mattress, while Blaine reaches out for his head and affectionately strokes his hair. Leo looks at them, at the way they look at each other, and they’re so perfect and beautiful he feels drawn towards them to the point of physical pain.

He waits for the pang to subside, and only then he leans on him, demandingly snatching his lips away from that smile he’s offering Blaine, catching them into an hungry kiss as he lets his hands travel on the back of his thighs, up and down and then up again, closing around his buttocks, squeezing his soft flesh, feeling it give in under the pressure.

Cody moans between his lips, his hips swinging upwards, rubbing against Leo’s crotch. Feeling him hard makes him whimper, it makes him part his legs a little wider, ask for a little more, but Leo doesn’t wanna give it to him, not yet, not so soon. He parts from his lips, licking them one last time, as red and puffy and oversensitive as they are, just to feel him shiver, and then starts kissing him down his neck, slowly traveling down his body, tasting him as he opens and closes his lips on his skin in wet, hot kisses that make Cody whine in pleasure and frustration.

“He’s torturing you, pet, isn’t he?” Blaine asks sweetly, stroking Cody’s cheek with his thumb and then moving it over his lips, to make him stop biting at them. Cody stops, but only to catch Blaine’s finger between his lips, sucking it into his mouth and playing in swirls with his tongue around it, forcing another soft smile on Blaine’s lips.

Leo looks up and takes a bite out of Cody’s tummy, annoyed. “Don’t get distracted,” he says, and Cody lets go of Blaine’s finger to look back down at Leo, a sweet smile curling his lips upwards.

“I’m not,” he says, but Leo isn’t convinced he’s got his full attention, so he moves lower, pushing Cody’s legs up and apart, exposing his tight, pink opening.

Leo’s not a huge fan of oral. His first blowjob he gave to Blaine, and it wasn’t exactly what could’ve been called a satisfying experience, for a few reasons Leo doesn’t like to go through now that so much time has passed and so many things have happened to them, that changed their relationship and situation so much. Still, the memory persists, and he’s thankful for the fact that Blaine seems to understand it, and never asks for anything in that sense, always waiting for him to make the first move whenever he feels up to.

Now, eating Cody out is a different thing entirely, though.

Leo’s not sure he could point out a single moment in which he looked at Cody and he realized he wanted to rim him. It’s a kind of hunger that’s probably always been there, since the first time he laid eyes on him, even before he fell for him, even before he realized he liked him. Looking at Cody and wanting to lick him all over are consequential things, because Cody looks so freakishly good he basically seems edible. And licking him all over kind of includes his ass too. Leo never stopped to think about it, but he knows, even if he did, he wouldn’t freak out about it. Cody just isn’t capable to inspire him with horrified thoughts. There’s just no chance in the world anything related to him could ever sound or feel disgusting to Leo. Things he wouldn’t dream of doing with anybody else, not even Blaine, not only become possible with Cody, they become necessary. They have to be done or Leo goes out of his mind. That’s just how it works.

So, when he leans in and presses his lips against Cody’s opening, his kisses are already hungry and open, his lips moving slowly against Cody’s hot skin, his tongue flicking out every now and then, to tease him.

Cody moans, arching his spine and throwing his head back, as he grabs at his own knees and pushes his own legs upwards, to expose himself more, giving way to Leo, that receives and accepts the invitation right away: crouching close to him, he tilts his head upwards a little and pushes his tongue inside Cody’s body, in and out, in and out, shivering in pleasure every time he feels Cody shiver too, squeezing his muscles around his intruding tongue, sucking it deeper in.

Soon enough the air in the bedroom is heavy with the scent of sex, and echoing with Cody’s moans. Leo lets a hand slide up Cody’s body, stroking his barely rounded tummy, rubbing his fingertips against Cody’s nipples. They’re hard and standing out like cute little pink buttons, and Leo holds one of them between his thumb and his index finger, playing with it just to hear Cody moan louder, his voice getting shakier and weaker by the second.

When Cody grabs him by his wrist, Leo’s expecting it, and he has to make an effort to stop himself from smiling right against his now wet and hungry opening. He knows Cody by heart, at this point, all his needs, what makes him feel good, all the little things he aches to do when he’s horny. So he’s not surprised, he’s not surprised at all when Cody drags his hand up, towards his own mouth, and starts sucking at his fingers, hungrily.

“Baby wants something to suckle on, doesn’t he?” he asks, parting momentarily from Cody’s opening and gently stroking his hardness with his free hand.

“Yes,” Cody mewls, his voice muffled by the fingers he’s still keeping buried in his own mouth.

“I figured,” Leo smirks, and then he turns towards Blaine. “Have you watched enough?”

Blaine’s horrified look is, as always, extremely funny. Leo can remember very well the very first time they talked about this issue of his, his complete inability to ever taint Cody with any kind of sex that went even just slightly beyond the most common position, and the very basic act of penetration. It was hilarious. Leo couldn’t stop laughing, nor he could ever believe that somebody could have someone like Cody as their husband and not want to fuck him senseless in every possible position and with every possible technique ever conceived by the human mind.

Obviously, Blaine knows how to satisfy his husband, that’s never been questioned by Leo or Cody himself, but he’s always very reluctant whenever Cody asks him to do something out of their (pretty lame) ordinary, or Leo dares him to. Like he’s doing now.

“…I don’t know,” he says, guessing what that mischievous light gleaming in Leo’s eyes means, “Can’t I just—”

“No, you can’t,” Leo says, possessively squeezing Cody’s buttocks in his hands and giving him one long, wet lap that makes Cody shake with pleasure, “This is mine, tonight. But you can fill some other hole.”

Leo can see him shake in horror at the mere thought, but there’s something else, obviously, the very same shiver that always shakes Leo from the inside whenever he thinks about doing something extremely dirty to Cody. It’s not as if Blaine doesn’t want to do those things to his husband (Leo firmly believes only a very, very sick man wouldn’t want to stick his own cock down Cody’s throat, given the chance), it’s just that he doesn’t live well with the thought of dirtying up his precious little prince, the very king of his heart, the perfect, undefiled angel doll he’s always kept under a glass dome so that nothing could tarnish it.

That’s why the thought is horrifying.

That’s also why it’s so sexy.

“I don’t think so,” he says, shaking his head, “I—”

“Please,” Cody’s voice is low and tiny, but it echoes in the room with the roar of a thousand thunders, “Blaine, please… let me suck it.”

Leo looks up at him. ‘That’s it,’ he thinks, ‘If he says no to this, no matter the consequences, I’m having him committed.'

He doesn’t have to find out about the consequences just yet, because luckily Blaine seems to decide that, although there are a lot of temptations he is able to stand up against with just the strength of his own willpower, his husband begging him to let him suck his cock isn’t one of them.

He lets out a soft whimper, as his hands slowly move to the belt keeping his robe closed, to untie the knot. “Alright, pet,” he says, his voice filled with sweet resignation, “Do as you please.”

Leo only waits long enough to make sure he sees Blaine bare his already majestic erection and offer it to Cody, who swallows it whole in one swift and hungry move, and then, with a satisfied grin, he lowers himself on Cody again, licking him a couple times before pushing his tongue inside his body.

It’s so easy to get lost like that, to miss the flowing seconds, not to notice them as they pass by. Everything is Cody, ‘cause he’s all Leo can taste, and everything is Blaine, ‘cause his moans are the only sound echoing in the room, since Cody can’t moan anymore and everything else is just the wet lapping of Leo’s tongue against Cody’s glistening, hot skin.

Leo grabs Cody by his hips, squeezes them hard enough to leave his fingerprints on them, and dives right in between his buttocks, half his face buried against Cody’s ass, who tries to moan and only manages to produce some sort of low purring that vibrates around Blaine’s cock, making him moan louder, even pant, as he holds onto the heavy wooden headboard of the bed.

When Cody starts swinging his hips, basically squatting on Leo’s face to take his tongue deeper in, Leo gives his all, licks him deeper than he’s ever licked him, thrusts his tongue inside his little tight hole hard and deep as he’d do with his own cock if he was fucking him, and he feels himself almost pushed over the edge when he feels Cody move away from Blaine’s cock with a loud, wet popping sound, to spit out a loud yell as he arches his back and comes, his orgasm raining over his own creamy white stomach pooling in his navel and dripping down its little curve in drops that leave translucent milky traces over his skin.

Leo lifts his face slowly, his eyes heavy with lust, his breath erratic and deep, his face covered in mess, his cock so hard it’s probably gonna explode if somebody doesn’t touch him right away, and when he’s about to ask for something, anything, really, just to get off, he feels the strong hold of Blaine’s arms close around his own waist and pull him up, and the next thing he knows is he’s sitting on Blaine’s lap and his cock is ramming past his opening and into his body, and he has to give his all not to just open his mouth wide and scream in pleasure and pain.

He waits for that first, overwhelming moment to pass, listening to the dirty nonsense Blaine whispers in his ear as he moves him on top of himself, holding him firmly around his hips, and only when he feels in control of his own feelings again he dares to moan, closing his eyes and resting his head back against Blaine’s shoulder, relaxing his muscles to take Blaine deeper, his body echoing with distant pleasure already, whenever Blaine hits deep and hard enough.

He reaches out for Blaine’s hand and brings it over his own cock, knowing better than to ask him to do anything when he’s so lost in his own pleasure he barely recognizes which one of the two he’s fucking, and when Blaine’s fingers close firmly around his hardness, stroking it, he opens his eyes and, through the veil of tears covering them, he looks at Cody.

Lying down covered in his own mess, as he looks at them with heavy, sleepy eyes and the sweetest smile on his plump, peachy lips, he looks nothing short of a vision. Something too beautiful and perfect to exist. He’s so beautiful just looking at him makes Leo want to lose control. He wishes Blaine had decided to fuck him in a different position, so now he could reach out for Cody, touch him, stroke him, jerk him off, anything just to see that pretty little face of his lighten up in shameless pleasure, anything just to see those big blue eyes of his get watery and heavy with another upcoming orgasm.

Just thinking about it makes him harder, just thinking about him makes him want to come.

He squeezes his fingers around Blaine’s, demanding for him to hold him tighter, stroke him harder, but then he sees Cody move up on his knees with a tiny moan, and he stops asking for anything, waiting to see what he’s up to.

Cody crawls towards them silently, his lips slightly parted, his body still shaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm, but that’s not enough to stop him. He stops right in front of Leo and crouches between his parted legs, and Leo barely has any time to realize what’s going to happen and thank all the gods for it, that Cody’s already lowering himself on his cock, taking it in his mouth, changing the hold of Blaine’s finger with the much softer, much wetter one of his lips, changing the occasional stroke Blaine gave to its head with his thumb with the swirls of his tongue around it, and over it, pushing lightly against the crack and then down, just a little past his foreskin, to reach inside.

That’s just too much for Leo to bear any longer. He moans louder, shamelessly, closing his muscles hard around Blaine to suck him inside his own body just as hard as Cody’s sucking him into his own mouth, and when, as a result of that, he milks Blaine’s orgasm out of him, and feels him shoot and fill him up with his come, he grabs Cody by his hair and pulls him back, just in time not to come into his mouth – just in time to shoot his orgasm right on his face, see it drip down his cheek, his nose, see it cover his lips in transparent drops, see Cody’s pink, little, kitten-like tongue flick between his lips to lick them off, tasting them and swallowing them with a faint shiver.

If the heaven religion promises awaiting for souls after people die is nothing like this, then the gods are a fraud.

He falls down on the mattress, completely spent, breathing heavily and keeping his eyes closed as he tries to regain some vague semblance of control over himself. He hopes Cody and Blaine both had enough, for tonight, to want to sleep immediately, and as far as this upcoming trip to Lord Anderson’s house goes, Leo doesn’t want to know anything about it, because it’s easier if he doesn’t think about it, it’s easier if he just forgets it and pretends it’s not happening, that he’s not being left behind, willingly or not.

“So,” Blaine says instead, talking softly as he brushes Leo’s hair away from his forehead, “Can we talk now?”

Leo groans loudly, crawling towards Cody and hugging him close, hiding his face against the curve of his neck and talking on his skin. “Can’t you just let it go?” he asks in a whiny voice, as Cody chuckles and strokes his nape, “I don’t wanna hear about it.”

“But I think you’d like what we’d say about it.”

“That’s unlikely,” he answers with a sigh.

“You’re wrong,” Cody says, smiling against his cheek and then leaving a soft kiss on it, “The fact is, we want you to come with us.”

Leo instantly raises his gaze on him, his eyes wide as two perfectly rounded moons. “What?”

“If you had let us speak this morning,” Blaine goes on, lying down on the bed with his arms crossed behind his head, “You’d have known sooner, and you’d have been of better company, today, instead of running here and there like a frightened rabbit every time we entered a room.”

“Shut up,” Leo grunts, throwing a pillow at him, before turning back to look at Cody. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Cody answers in a short giggle, evidently amused by Leo’s surprise, “We talked about it, but we were thinking it before we even discussed it. Isn’t it, like, the perfect vengeance you can think of? Lord Anderson had to invite Blaine over, but it’s not like he’ll enjoy one single second of it. So I say,” he adds with a very uncharacteristic grin that makes him look like some sort of mischievous fairy for a wonderful second, “I say we make it worse.”

Leo looks at him for a while, and then turns to Blaine. “Is he out of his mind?” he asks, pointing the finger at Cody.

Blaine laughs out loud, shrugging. “If he is, we both are. To be honest,” he grins too, “I can’t wait to see my father’s face when we show up in grand style… with you by our side.” He laughs again, shaking his head, “Oh, it’s going to be glorious.”

Leo doesn’t know if glorious is exactly the word he’d use to describe the carnage that will take place the moment Lord Anderson lays eyes on the three of them waiting on his doorstep, but the mere thought of traveling with Cody and Blaine just to spite him makes his skin swarm with pleasure.

He simply can’t wait.

*
Leo thought Blaine’s house was big, but Anderson Mansion forces him to rewrite the definition of big entirely, and for a full minute – the time they have to wait outside before somebody actually comes and gets their luggage to take it inside – he is unable to form words that seem accurate enough to do that. Or, well, any word at all, actually.

“This isn’t a house,” he says, jumping off the carriage, his eyes glued to the building in front of him, “This is a castle.”

“You wouldn’t say that, if you had ever seen a castle,” Blaine chuckles, as he closes his hands firmly around Cody’s waist to help him down, “Luckily, we can fix that after we’re done with this.”

“I can’t imagine why somebody would want a castle if they already have a place like this,” Leo says distractedly, his eyes still seeing nothing except the mansion, his brain still unable to conceive anything else beside it. Until the dreamlike bubble he’s been losing himself in for the last few minutes pops open, and he realizes the implications of Blaine’s words. “Wait a second,” he says, turning to look at him, “You have a castle?!”

“Not me, specifically,” Blaine chuckles, amused, “But my family does.”

“Dalton Castle,” Cody adds, tidying up his clothes and wrapping an arm around one of Blaine’s, “I’ve been there a couple times, before you arrived. It’s a fascinating place!”

“Yes, spider webs and drafts tend to give a building that certain air of mystery and Medieval antiquity about itself,” Blaine comments with a short chuckle, moving towards the door as the servants who came to welcome them part to make room for his stride, “I never really liked the place, and father deems it one of his most valued possessions only as long as he doesn’t actually have to set foot into it.” His smile softens a bit as his eyes grow distant, as if they were scanning his memory for some feeble pictures of a long-forgotten past. “Mother used to love it. That’s where our family would hold all parties and spend all holidays, as long as… well, as long as she could take care of it. Then the illness came, and it…” he sighs, shrugging a little, that silent smile still curling his lips, but fading like frost comes the morning sun, “It changed everything. And when my older brother ended up missing at war, well, a lot of what we were used to do got forgotten, it became something we locked up in the past and didn’t really want to face again, and so did Dalton Castle too.”

“That’s… kind of sad, actually,” Leo says, walking beside them, “But I kinda wanna see it still.”

“It’s not far from here, if I remember correctly,” Cody says, looking up at Blaine, who nods in agreement.

“Just a few miles east of here, past the bridge,” he says, “I’ll send a few people there tomorrow to clean it and warm it up a bit, so that it’s ready for us when we’re ready for it. It’s going to be a good place to hide out for a few days until we wait for the storm to subside after father sees we brought you along,” he finishes, looking at Leo with a sly grin.

“Oh, Gods,” a female voice says in a soft but anxious whimper, and when Leo turns around to identify the source of it he finds an old woman standing on the doorstep, her hands over her mouth and her eyes deeply worried as she looks at them approaching, “Young Master, you will be the death of me, and the death of your poor father.”

“Mrs. Appleby,” Blaine greets her, letting go of Cody just to hold both her tiny, wrinkly hands in his own, squeezing them warmly, “You haven’t aged one day.”

“Please, Young Master,” the old woman says, modestly looking down, “Do not flatter me. I am extremely concerned for you. You shouldn’t have done this. Your poor father will have an heart attack. And these two poor kids!” she goes on, turning to both Leo and Cody and embracing them with warm eyes as she strokes both their cheeks with hands that Leo expected to be rough and lumpy but that are, instead, extremely soft and smooth to the touch, and delicately vanilla-scented. “Why did you have to involve them too? You know who’s going to pay for this, oh, this poor kid,” she sighs, focusing her icy blue eyes, made twice as big by her thick glasses, solely on Leo, “Don’t you worry, child, you will be under my protection for as long as you’ll be a guest under this roof. You have no fault in this.”

She must be the governess, Leo guesses by looking at her dark and austere outfit, only barely lightened up by the creamy white apron and headpiece. And she seems nothing like Leo would have thought her to be. If he had known there was going to be one, obviously.

He rarely ever stops to think about Lord Anderson, and whenever he does it’s only to mentally cover him in insults and hate for the way he treats them and his complete inability to understand their relationship. The few times he has ever tried and picture him, he has always visualized him as some sad, lonely old man living in a sad, lonely stone manor, using just a candle to save on wax and matches and spending his days sitting on an old velvet armchair in the darkness, staring cold-eyed-ly into nothing while silently cursing his only alive son without any pity or remorse. He certainly didn’t want to think about him as the extremely rich and extremely proper old man he probably is instead, surrounded with adoring servants, taken care of by a loyal governess, as he lives in his beautiful white marble mansion surrounded by yards of wonderful woods, full of regrets and concerns for his son’s life choices.

“Um… thank you,” he answers, trying not to sound as surprised as he really is, “That’s… very kind of you.”

“That’s not very kind of you at all, Mrs. Appleby!” Blaine says in some sort of whiny, childish voice Leo has never heard coming out of his mouth before, “If you really want to know it, it was my beloved husband’s idea.”

“Oh, don’t go blaming that poor, innocent soul for your mischiefs!” the old woman argues, turning to look at him and facing him with the same sternness of an extremely old, affectionate grandmother, “Whatever trick he learned, he learned from you, Young Master. Ah, it’s you who hasn’t aged a day!” she says in a dramatic sigh, “Since you were five, actually!”

Blaine bursts into laughing, covering Mrs. Appleby’s narrow, fragile shoulders with an arm and dragging her into an hug as he energetically rubs her back. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Appleby. You’re right, as always.”

“I’ve known you all your life, Young Master, and I have never been wrong.”

“Indeed,” he nods, the smile on his lips now full and radiant, “I still remember what you told me when you found me busy trying to put cayenne pepper in Cooper’s soup. You said I would never be able to ever go a single day in my life without doing at least something wicked and outrageous,” he winks, throwing a glance at Leo and Cody, “And I’ve tried to go by that as well as I possibly could.”

“Oh, Young Master,” the woman sighs again, completely unimpressed by Blaine’s shameless show, “Please, do stop playing around already. This needs to be handled carefully. Let me escort your young companions in their rooms, and—”

“Mrs. Appleby!” Blaine exclaims, pretending to be way more shocked than he really is, “I cannot believe that father didn’t utter the words ‘bring him to me the moment he steps foot into the house’, before I arrived!”

“He did, in fact, but—”

“Then, by no means I am going to disappoint His Lordship by disobeying such a direct and straightforward order. There will be time to show my kids their rooms. Now bring us to father at once!” he nods with theatrical solemnity.

“Young Master,” Mrs. Appleby almost whines, “I beg you please, this is not something you should be joking about.”

“Who’s joking about what?” he says with another open smile.

Leo looks at the scene, mildly amused and only vaguely worried, and his heart skips a beat when he understands this woman was the only person who could talk some sense into Blaine and prevent the next five minutes to happen, and she didn’t manage. Whether he’s more happy than he’s preoccupied with what’s going to happen or the other way around, he can’t say. He honestly doesn’t even care.

“Fine,” Mrs. Appleby says, showing them inside, “But please, try and be careful, Young Master. His Lordship hasn’t been in his best shape, recently.”

“Ah,” Blaine says with a vague smile, following her and making way for Cody and Leo too, “I’m sure he hasn’t. Must’ve taken a lot of effort to find enough strength to stomach the thought of not only having to invite me here, but also award me.”

Mrs. Appleby, walking just a few steps ahead of them, stops in the middle of the corridor and quickly turns around, throwing Blaine the closest thing to a glare he can possibly afford to address him with, and that stare, on its own, it’s enough to stop Blaine, something that not even opposite armies of thousands of people have proven to be able to do. “I’m afraid you’re out of line, now, Young Master. Please, do remember you’re still talking about your father.”

Blaine looks down for a few seconds, his smile quickly fading away. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Appleby. That was cocky and immature of me. Do accept my apologies, please.”

The old woman sighs, nodding slowly. “You still wish me to announce you to His Lordship, though, don’t you?”

“Yes, please,” Blaine answers with a short nod, “I have come here, today, to make a statement, and only after I was, you will agree, clearly provoked, one way or another. Now, you may disagree with my intentions, but I still need to do this my own way. Wicked and outrageous as it may be,” he finishes with a smile.

Mrs. Appleby sighs for the umpteenth time, and turns around. “Follow me,” she says. Blaine does, and Cody and Leo move behind him, silently.

She asks them to wait for a little while outside in the hallway as she announces them to Lord Anderson, and they do. In the long, silent moments that follow her disappearance behind the heavy, golden lacquered wooden door, Leo turns to look at Blaine, and his heart starts beating faster when he notices he’s nervous.

Not that Blaine’s making a show out of it. Oh, no, he never does. He’s been raised as a soldier and by a soldier, thinking it a flaw to ever show any feeling that might bring anybody else to think him weak. That’s what makes him so stern and strict, an attitude that stuck with him despite how much softer he’s grown over the last few years, his hardness, coming from his upbringing, bending to the rules of the passing years and the constant outpouring of love coming from his kids and directed straight towards him.

Despite that, despite that hardness that’s always with him, the thought of his father is always able to shake Blaine inside. It’s the only thing that does. Which is why, despite being the most fearless person he knows, Leo’s frightened of him too.

Mrs. Appleby comes out of the studio a couple minutes later. She’s visibly upset. Leo’s quite sympathetic towards the woman: it mustn’t be easy to deal with such a father and such a son, especially when they’re being at odds with one another, which, Leo can only imagine, must be like a natural condition, for them, knowing how they think.

“His Lordship will receive you, now,” she says.

Blaine offers her an apologetic and warm smile, getting close to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, showing off a kind of intimacy that he shouldn’t be allowed to share with servants. “Thank you very much, Mrs. Appleby,” he says softly, kissing her on her cheek, “We’ll see you later.”

“Yes, Young Master,” she nods politely, “Just try and be still alive by then.”

Leo wants to think of it as a joke, but he can’t help swallowing at the not-so-veiled warning lying underneath it.

Lord Anderson’s study is a big, dark room, filled with heavy furniture and the sweet smell of extremely old books. There are three windows on the wall looking at the garden on the front of the mansion, but they’re all covered in heavy, brown velvet curtains that are longer than the wall itself and fall on the floor like the long tail of a wedding dress, mimicking the movement of the waves when they come ashore.

Lord Anderson is sitting silently behind his desk, and doesn’t stand up when he sees them walk in.

“Good morning, father,” Blaine says, smiling dashingly as he walks into the room, followed by Cody and Leo, “I just arrived.”

“So they tell me,” Lord Anderson answers. His voice is low and rough, his expression stern. He only looks at Blaine. “It also seems like you’re not alone.”

“That’s correct,” Blaine nods, “My dear husband and lover are here.”

Lord Anderson looks at him coldly for a few seconds, not a word escaping his lips. Silence falls so heavily upon them all that Leo quickly starts feeling uncomfortable, and regretting ever wanting to come here, let alone accepting the invitation.

“You just couldn’t help it,” he says, his voice trembling lightly, rage making his words harsher, “You couldn’t help coming into my house with him. To embarrass me.”

“I couldn’t help being unable to accept the honor you’re about to give me without him by my side, father,” Blaine answers, just as harshly as him, “Since he, together with my husband, was the only one who cried for me, and mourned my loss, when he believed me lost at war.”

Lord Anderson clutches his hands around the armrests of his chair, staring at him with such outrage in his eyes for a second Leo is genuinely scared and genuinely expecting to see him stand up, cross the room and slap his son across his face.

It doesn’t happen, though, and in a few moments Lord Anderson’s expression goes back to what it was before, a still, stern mask of indifference and vague bother. “Very well,” he says, “You’ll have your whore by your side for the ceremony. He better have something to wear for the occasion. You wouldn’t want to show him in the same condition you dare to let him walk around your house, and that I was forced to witness while I was a guest there.”

Blaine concedes himself a smirk, as he shrugs nonchalantly. He knows he won the battle, and he clearly takes pride in it. No matter how silly the argument, it’s always war between his father and him. “You needn’t worry, father,” he says, “I’ll make sure Leo looks at his best, tomorrow night. He’ll be on everybody’s mouth.”

“I’m way more concerned about his mouth being on everybody, than the other way around,” Lord Anderson says, darting a sharp glare in Blaine’s direction.

Leo clutches his fists down his sides. “How dare you—“ he starts out, gritting his teeth.

Blaine smiles, and puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Don’t fall for it,” he says, “He’s at his worst when he knows he’s losing.” He bows elegantly, inviting Leo to do the same as Cody tilts his head in a silent and polite greeting. “Good evening, father,” he concludes, “We won’t be having dinner with you, tonight. We’ll see you for the ceremony, tomorrow.”

Lord Anderson doesn’t speak, and simply turns around, gesturing him to go away.

*
"I'm having second thoughts about this," Leo says, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

"There's no need to," Cody smiles encouragingly, walking slowly around him as he supervises the job the seamstress is doing on the clothes that have been bought for him specifically for this occasion, "Blaine knows what he's doing."

"See, that's exactly why I'm having second thoughts," he insists, lifting his arms when the seamstress orders him to do so, to measure the right length for the soft, dark red blouse he's wearing, "I'm not convinced at all he does."

"Why?" Cody asks softly, as he leans in to tell the seamstress to keep the blouse as long as possible and to tighten the trousers, instead, so that they fit his legs like a glove, "Has he ever disappointed you?"

"Countless times!"

Cody looks back up at him, frowning. "What's the problem?" he asks.

"The problem is, I'm afraid we're pushing our luck," he says, "I think the only reason that disgusting man didn't kick Blaine out of the family last time we kicked him out of our house was because he's the only progeny he's got left. This might be enough for him to decide he doesn't need a progeny after all, and that the Anderson name better die with him, though!"

"And what do you care about it?" Cody blinks, genuinely surprised, "You never cared for Blaine's title, or his family name. You were the one suggesting we should drop everything and run to a foreign country, starting off from scratch as common nobodies."

"Cody, people change," Leo sighs, "And they grow mature. That would've been my greatest joy, back then, a dream come true, because I only believed in the kind of love that's so overwhelming you'd drop everything you have just to follow where it leads. I'm not that person anymore, I've learned. I know that Blaine doesn't love me less just because he doesn't drop everything for me, I know there's more to life than just being with the people you love. And it even took me a huge deal of thinking and convincing myself to get there, so please don't waste all my efforts like that!"

Cody chuckles, leaning on the frame of the mirror, overseeing the silent work of the seamstress. "Sorry," he says, "I'm glad to hear you say that. The more time we spend all together, the better you get to know me and Blaine," he smiles, "That's adorable."

Leo looks away, embarrassed. "Shut up."

"Anyway," Cody goes on, "I don't exactly know what Blaine has in mind. But you've got to understand, his father never really approved of him, of anything he ever did, actually, except being and exceptionally good soldier. Blaine has lived a good half of his life trying to please Lord Anderson, but he never looked at him twice. How could he, when he had a much more dashing, much more mature, much more heroic firstborn to concentrate all his hopes on?" he shrugs, "At some point, Blaine simply stopped trying his best to please him, and started trying his best to please himself. And ironically, that's exactly when Lord Anderson's gaze started to finally linger on him. To criticize everything he did."

Leo frowns, tilting his head. "You mean he was disapproving of him since before I came into the picture?"

"Yes," Cody nods, "He never approved of me."

Leo opens his eyes wide, looking at him in shock. "How is it possible not to approve of you?" he asks, truly astounded at the concept.

Cody laughs, amused at his astonishment, looking down at the seamstress. "That'll be enough," he tells her, "The outfit looks good."

She nods and thanks him, and then stands up and quickly leaves the room, knowing she's not welcome there anymore. Leo looks at her until he sees her respectfully close the door behind her, and then turns his gaze back on Cody, who's only waiting to have his full attention back to start talking again.

"I'm a boy, so I can't give him an heir that it's his by blood," he explains, "Some of the oldest and more traditional families still frown upon same sex marriages for this reason, despite it being common practice now. Plus, I'm too young. I was way underage when my relationship with Blaine started. We kept it a secret, mostly, but Lord Anderson always knew. He never said it out loud, but of course he knew, he's not stupid and he knows his son. And finally," Cody smiles softly, "I'm a commoner."

Leo's eyes grow even wider, as he stares at Cody in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" he asks, "You're not blue blood?"

"I'm not," Cody chuckles, "Blaine and I met because of the war. I had a brother, you know?" he smiles tenderly, "A twin brother, Casey. Mine was a pretty poor family, we had a little bakery in the old city. We had our clientele, we didn't make a lot of money and reaching the end of the month paying all our creditors was hard, but we managed. I was content with it, but Casey wasn't. He was the bright mind and roaring heart of the family," his smile breaks a little, but still widens lightly, as he lowers his eyes, getting lost in his memories, "He wanted to join the army, make a name for himself, climb the social ladder and so on. He was one of Blaine's cadets. He had taken him under his wing, admiring his spirit, his inventiveness and his passion. He brought him at war and they fought side by side, but only Blaine came back." He stops for a second, taking a deep breath, as if he needed to calm himself, even though he doesn't look upset at all.

"I..." Leo swallows, "I knew nothing of it."

"I don't like to talk about it, and Blaine respects my wish and never brings it up," Cody explains, "But you don't have to worry, I was waiting for the right occasion to tell you because it felt weird that you didn't know. You just gave me the chance."

"I'm..." Leo looks down, uncomfortably, "I'm still sorry."

Cody chuckles and steps closer, lifting himself up on his tiptoes to kiss him on his lips. "Don't be, please," he says.

"So..." he inquires curiously, unable to stop himself despite knowing he probably should, "He came back and..."

"He insisted to be the one to bring the Purple Heart to our home," Cody's tale goes on, "He too had lost a brother at war, so he knew what it meant and he felt for me and my family. He said words of praise about Casey, told us he had been the bravest and the smartest and the most fearless soldier he had ever met in his entire life. He told us that if he had been given the chance to keep his life, Casey would've provided for all of us, and then promised that, since my brother couldn't anymore, he'd have done it in his stead."

"And that's how you started hanging out together..."

"And eventually fell in love, yes," Cody nods. "But it wasn't out of pity that he fell for me. At first that's what I believed, but the more time I spent with him the more I came to understand that us falling in love wasn't a way for him to fix my broken family. It had just been serendipitous."

"Of course," Leo nods, smiling softly, "It's impossible to fall for you out of pity, Cody. You're too amazing for that."

Cody chuckles, amused and embarrassed. "I wasn't amazing enough for Lord Anderson," he says. "Can you imagine? The only living son of the head of one of the oldest families of the nation marrying a common baker son. Twenty years younger than him!" he chuckles again at the thought, "We were the talk of the whole city for months. Lord Anderson never forgave us that."

Leo nods slowly, letting all the new information sink in. "I see..." he says, "Silly me, thinking I was the only bone of contention around!"

"Isn't it entirely like you thinking yourself the very center of the universe?" Cody jokes, smirking at him.

"How dare you!" Leo laughs, wrapping his arms around Cody's body and tickling him in retaliation, "You bad-mouthed princess."

Cody laughs out loud, trying to free himself from Leo's grasp. "Stop it! Oh my God," he laughs again, "Stop it, you're gonna kill me." Leo chuckles and stops tickling him, his hands lingering on Cody's body in soft, intimate caresses. "You see now," Cody reprises, leaning on him, "This thing Blaine's doing, it's not just about you, and it's not just about us. It's about him and his father. Wherever this leads us, it's at the end of a path Blaine chose because he believed it righteous, because there's still something he wants to show his father, possibly that he's not the weak, dissolute and stupid man his father believes him to be. I don't know," he sighs, "I think the evolution of Blaine's relationship with his father over the years was leading them up to this very moment. I think whatever's going to happen tonight and in the days that will follow simply needs to happen. We just need to stand by Blaine through it."

"That goes without saying," Leo reassures him, nodding at him and at himself.

"Are you done with preparations?" Blaine asks, knocking on the door twice and then simply walking in, his expression turning into a playfully annoyed one when he sees them hugging. "Boys!" he scolds them, "I can't leave you alone two seconds. What are you doing all tangled up like that? We're going to be late."

"No, we won't," Cody smiles, parting from Leo to walk towards him and kiss him sweetly on his lips, "We're ready to go. Is everybody waiting for us?"

"Eagerly," Blaine nods. He turns around, offering his arms to both Cody and Leo. "Shall we go?"

Cody and Leo both nod, as Leo jumps off the stand the seamstress had put him on to take care of his outfit. "We shall," he says, hanging on to Blaine's arm.

*
The hall is filled with people, all orderly sitting at their places around the small rounded tables that have been placed everywhere in the room, to offer a seat to every guest. There are mostly men in the crowd, and they’re all wearing the dress uniform of the highest offices of the Army, but there’s a few women, too, mostly wives or honored widows, wearing the richest and most exquisite dresses Leo has ever seen on anybody.

Nobody’s more beautiful than Cody, anyway. He’s wearing a long, white tunic with a tail that follows him wherever he goes, decorated with the smallest diamonds man could possibly craft, making the dress shine under the bright lights of the chandeliers. The dress leaves his shoulders bare, and the number of people following that sweet curve, from his neck to his arm, is astounding, both between women and men.

He sits straight at Blaine’s right, holding one of his hands between his own. Leo sits by Blaine’s left, instead. Blaine offered him a hand too, but Leo chuckled and told him not to be ridiculous, that there’s no reason to flaunt in his father’s face things that they’re not used to do at home either, and that he’d look ridiculous anyway if he were to have both his hands busy with two different kids. Blaine laughed and kissed him in front of everybody, and the surprised oohs that followed the gesture were enough to keep Leo satisfied for the entire night.

Dinner was good, but no one cares for food, tonight. Not Blaine, nervously waiting for his father’s move, not Lord Anderson, probably preoccupied with the poor show his son’s making of himself, certainly not the guests, all busy chatting under their breath about the dashing general Blaine Anderson, and about how such wonderful military qualities and such awful and depraved sexual inclinations can coexist inside him.

Blaine waltzes through the night with effortless class, literally, at some point, when the string quartet starts to play and guests are invited to join in the dancing. He dances with Cody first, making him swirl on the dancefloor like a cloud in the summer sky, turning and turning, clearly showing off, in a mesmerizing movement Leo can’t keep his eyes off. And then he dances with Leo too, a slower, more intimate dance, with his left arm wrapped around his waist and the other held up high, their fingers entwined as they hold hands, turning on the spot, barely swinging to the rhythm of the music.

When dances are over, they sit back around their assigned table, waiting for the hardest moment of the night to come. Lord Anderson stands up from the table he shares with the most relevant representatives of the Army and the political and economic life of the city, and slowly walks to the stage that’s been arranged in the room, and that is now empty after the string quartet left. Blaine follows his movements carefully, and Leo does it too, his heart beating faster and harder than it should, or than it had reason to do.

Lord Anderson stops behind the stand, placing a few notes on the holder. He raises his gaze on his audience, and then his eyes stop on Blaine, and something changes in them. Leo’s heart skips a beat as the man appears to him for the first time as the old, old and lost man he really is. A man who’s let his only remaining son grow so distant from him he can’t even understand him anymore.

It’s a weirdly heartbreaking sight.

“First of all,” Lord Anderson says in a deep sigh, “Let me thank you all for coming here to celebrate my son and his miraculous venture, tonight. You honor my house with your presence, and you honor my son by wanting to award him with the Golden Medal.” He clears his throat, while the audience claps their hands at Blaine, who bows lightly, accepting the applause. “I had prepared a few words,” Lord Anderson reprises after a while, “That was before this night was organized, when I was first contacted by the chief of staff who told me about the Medal’s assignation. I’m not sure if things have changed since then, but I would still like, if you have the patience to bear with this old man for just a few minutes, to make the speech as I had originally planned it.”

Another round of applause starts from the audience, and Lord Anderson waits for the clapping to subside before speaking again.

“When I lost my first son at war,” he says, as silence falls heavily upon the hall, “I refused to surrender to grief. I was a much younger man, back then, perhaps a much stronger one, and the thought of having lost my firstborn to a war I believed righteous, serving a Nation I myself would have laid my life down for, somehow softened the pain. It was heartwrenching, and I was broken, but I could take pride in my son’s heroic deeds, and I could be at peace. Deep down, it was because I knew.” His eyes once again linger on Blaine. Leo, who was looking at the old man, follows them, and sees on Blaine’s face an expression he had never seen before. He looks much, much younger than he is. And simply terrified. Though of what, Leo couldn’t tell. “I knew I had another. Someone else who would carry the family name, someone else on whom I can put all my hopes and dreams for the future on. But I soon had to realize that, despite being the embodiment of all I ever believed right and just for a soldier, my second son wasn’t somebody I could rein in. He wasn’t a person I could control, and that put at risk all those hopes, all those dreams. And I simply couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t accept it, and so I did the only thing I knew we both were equally capable of: I declared war.”

Blaine holds his breath, his lips turned into a thin, almost invisible line. Cody looks at him, a little worried about his tension, and squeezes his hand. Blaine squeezes it back, so hard Cody’s knuckles turn whiter than they already are. Equally worried, Leo puts a hand on his forearm, trying to snap him out of whatever dark pit he’s fallen in. Blaine relaxes, but only a bit.

“I led this war without backing off once in all these years, but when I received news of your disappearance at war, son, I felt what I hadn’t felt when it happened to your older brother. Everything came back to me, twice as intense as it would’ve been ten years ago, because of my age, and because I was so sure, so sure you’d come back, so we could go on with our private war, that had become so much more important than the actual war, over the years, because it was ours.” Lord Anderson stops again for a few moments, catching his breath. The audience is awfully quiet. Not a single word can be heard, not even a whisper. “And it was then that I realized that I could’ve lost you twice, dead to me for two different wars. Ours, and the Nation’s. And I couldn’t stand it. I did things—” he has to stop again, his eyes getting watery, the crows united in a single exclamation of surprise, because that man has never been seen crying in public, “I did things I had forgotten how to do. I prayed. I cried. I begged for forgiveness looking at your picture. And then you came back.”

He stops to swallow. Blaine swallows too.

“So, as former general and leader, tonight I award you, on account of the Army, for your valor in battle. But as a father, son, I don’t award you. I celebrate you. For coming back to me.”

The audience remains quiet for almost a full minute. Then, slowly, everybody starts standing up. They cheer and applaud, somebody’s moved, somebody’s filled with pride, somebody’s been made weak by Lord Anderson’s words.

Everybody’s smiling.

Except Blaine, who’s crying silently, staring at his father, and his two kids, who look completely overturned, staring at him.

*
Blaine always asks for a little privacy, whenever he's distressed or particularly upset by something. Leo was very annoyed at this attitude, at first, because he's not like Cody, he doesn't have a talent for always getting what Blaine wants and why he needs it at first sight, but he learned to understand it over time. To the point that now Blaine doesn't even need to ask anymore: they can recognize the signs, they see them, and when they do, they automatically back off.

Sometimes they're reluctant to let him go, though, which is why, this time, they both followed him. They know Blaine doesn't want them around, so they make sure he doesn't notice them, but they're close, close enough to hear him sigh deeply as he sits at one of the benches of the immense garden surrounding the mansion, leaning against its back and raising his eyes to the night sky, staring at the stars.

The party's been over for an hour or so, and all the guests are long gone. Both the house and the garden are utterly silent, there's not even a night bird in sight, no crickets shaking the air with their voice, no steps, no whispers, nothing. Leo and Cody don't even need to talk, just to look at Blaine to know he's better off on his own, right now, that he needs to deal with his own thundering emotions by himself.

When they finally hear something changing in the night, a new sound echoing around them, steps approaching, all their senses heighten. They narrow their eyes to try and recognize who's walking towards Blaine in the darkness, but they only manage when the figure moves into the light Blaine's lamp is casting around himself.

"...Father," Blaine whispers, looking up. He quickly stands up, but Lord Anderson stops him with an assertive gesture, and Blaine sits down again.

Soon enough, the old man's joining his son, sitting next to him on the bench, staring at the same night sky.

They exchange no words for the longest time, and it's Blaine the first to break the silence. "I... I don't know what to say."

Lord Anderson doesn't even look at him, but he inhales deeply, the sweet scent of the roses surrounding them. "You think we need to talk, but you don't even know where to start, don't you?"

"Yes," Blaine admits, lowering his gaze.

Lord Anderson nods slowly. "I knew that speech would've confused you," he says, "In fact, I wasn't even sure if I should've made it. Or if I wanted to make it at all. We've been opposing each other for so long... I struggle to imagine a life in which we don't."

"It was never because of me," Blaine blurts out, "Or, well... at least it wasn't always. Back then, father, I would've given anything to—"

"To impress me," Lord Anderson finishes for him, "I know. And I don't really know what exactly was it that I was expecting from you. Probably that you could do something huge, something world-changing, something that could wipe out everything else you've done in your life, so that you could always be remembered for that. I wonder, now... is that what all fathers want for their children? That they can be heroes, their legacy unfolding through time, for centuries? I don't know. I wanted that for you. And I thought everything else you did, all the things you liked, you did and liked to spite me. Because you knew of this dream and it wasn't the same as yours, and so you were set on standing as far from it as you possibly could. And since you couldn't help being an outstanding soldier, being it in your nature to be one, then you consciously decided to compensate that quality with being as dissolute and unruly as you possibly could. Just because you hated me."

Blaine raises his eyes on him briefly, before going back to stare at the ground. "That's... That's an extremely self-centered vision of a relationship."

"And still, that's how I saw it," the old man sighs. "Besides, is there really out there a vision of a relationship, whatever relationship, that isn't self-centered? What about your vision of our relationship? What about your... your kids' vision of their relationship? With you, with one another. We're all people trying to understand how to deal with each other, and experience taught me we mostly never manage."

Blaine keeps silent for a minute or so, letting his father's words sink in. "Father," he asks then, "Are you apologizing?"

Lord Anderson doesn't answer right away. His lips curl into a barely visible smile, as his dark eyes shine under the moonlight. "I am," he admits, "If it is true that you never did anything to try and make me understand what you were going through, as I always believed and still believe, it is also true that I simply never asked. And that even if I did, I wouldn't have been in the right state of mind to really listen." He finally turns to look at his son, smiling a little more convincingly. "So yes, I apologize, son. And I'm not sure I'll ever understand what you want and what you need... Frankly," he breathes out in half a laughter, "I'm not even sure I want to, but what I do know is that I'm old and I'm tired, and I can't take a single day of this war anymore. Life..." he swallows, "Life unexpectedly gave you back to me. And I'm done depriving myself of the joy of being a father. I know it might be too late, but I still want to..." he stops for a second, looking at him, "Son, are you crying?"

"You have no idea..." Blaine sobs, "How long I've wanted to hear..."

"No, son," Lord Anderson says, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I do. Believe me. I do."

Blaine's shaking so violently Leo looks at him from the bushes he's hiding behind with Cody, and he's frightened he might fall to pieces and disperse on the ground. He keeps crying, silently, and his father keeps a hand on his shoulder until he hears his crying subside.

"I'm going to leave you, now," he says then, standing up, "I'm tired and it's been an intense, heavy day for us both. Go to sleep, son. Enjoy your kids. We'll talk again tomorrow at breakfast."

Blaine barely manages to nod vaguely, and sits perfectly still, his hands on his knees, his gaze locked to the ground, as his father slowly walks away and gets back into the mansion. Only then he covers his face with both hands and inhales and exhales deeply, still sobbing every now and then, trying to calm down. "You can come out, now," he says. His voice sounds still broken, and Cody and Leo's hearts sink into their stomachs upon hearing it.

They come out of their hiding place, looking down. "We're sorry," Cody says, "We didn't--"

"It's fine," he stops him right there, lowering his hands and looking up at them. He's smiling, but he's still crying. "I'm alright."

Leo moves a little closer, stroking his cheek with his hand. "You're crying..." he says, as if wanting to warn Blaine in case he didn't notice.

"I know," Blaine says in a short, shaky chuckle, "I don't seem to be able to stop."

They both wrap their arms around him, hugging him silently, holding their breaths when he hugs them too, squeezing their bodies in an embrace that's so tight it almost hurts. Much like happiness when it's too intense.

*
They leave the mansion a couple hours after breakfast, but way before lunchtime. Blaine said there's a small, fine tavern on the road towards Dalton Castle, serving the best mutton steaks he's ever tasted in his life. He wants his kids to try them too, so they're going to stop by the place to eat before they proceed for their final destination.

Breakfast was surprisingly good. Lord Anderson still wouldn't address Leo directly, but he wouldn't refuse to share the table with him, and he'd generally conduct himself as if he was indeed aware of his presence right there with the others, something that, as small of an improvement as it is, he had never done before. He asked them what were their plans for the day and Blaine told him he had promised Leo and Cody a visit to the Castle.

"That old place," Lord Anderson sighed, "It's full of drafts. You're all going to catch a cold."

"I sent servants there to warm the place up," Blaine smiled, "We'll be fine, but thanks for your concern. We're going to spend the night there, and we'll be there tomorrow too, until late afternoon. Perhaps you could come visit for tea."

"Perhaps I could," Lord Anderson smiled too. He didn't promise to come, but he didn't need to. Blaine will be expecting him tomorrow by four, and he's going to be there.

Mrs. Appleby said goodbye to them on the door, while a couple servants loaded their luggage on the coach. "Can I dare hope we'll be seeing you around here more often, now, Young Master?" she asked softly.

Blaine smiled and hugged her warmly. "Dare, my old friend," he said, "We'll see you soon."

Before she let them go, she recommended Leo and Cody to keep an eye on Blaine, take care of him. "He's growing old too," she said, "He's growing soft. That's the age men start to melt. It's your job to keep him in one piece."

They both took their responsibility very seriously.

"So," Leo says, looking out the window as the coach bounces along the road, "How long till this amazing house of quality mutton?"

"It's still early," Blaine chuckles, stroking his hair.

"But I'm hungry," Leo complains, sitting back down, "Don't we have anything to eat?"

"You just finished having breakfast..." Cody chuckles too.

Leo crawls towards him, capturing his lips in an hungry kiss. "I'll eat you, then," he whispers on his lips.

Blaine relaxes against the back of his seat, heavily breathing out. "You two will be the death of me," he says in a surrendering voice.

Leo and Cody both laugh, amused.

"If war didn't kill you," Leo says, "I'm pretty sure we can't either."

"You're wrong, my love," Blaine says, kissing him, "War was just one. While there's two of you."

"Time to shut up," Cody says softly, holding Blaine's face in his hands and kissing him to silence.

The trip proceeds smoothly, not a single bump in the road.

When they arrive at the tavern, Leo is twice as hungry as he was before.