WALK THROUGH THE FIRE

When Cody opens his eyes, all he can see are Blaine's broad, tan shoulders, and the messy mass of his curly long hair falling upon them and on the pillow. He's pressing himself so close to him some of those rebel locks tickle his nose, and despite not feeling the reassuring pressure of Leo's body against his own he can't help but smile in pleasure. Blaine hasn’t kept his hair so long for such a long time. When he was in the Army full time he was required to keep them very short. He decided to let them grow when he retired, and he hasn't trimmed them since. They're gorgeous, and one of the things Cody loves more about him. Perhaps because he shares that trait with Leo.

Thinking about him makes his lips curl downwards in a disappointed pout. Leo hasn't been himself, lately. Granted, he's never been the merriest of kids. He's always been a bit of a grumpy thing. But Cody understands him - Cody even agrees with him. When you get captured and then sold as a sex slave, there are no many reasons left for you to actually be happy about your life. Cody likes to think living with him and Blaine is slowly solving that problem, he comforts himself thinking that, at some point, Leo will realize that despite all the sadness he's experienced in his life, he still has something to be happy about, but he knows it'll take time.

For now, he just puts up with Leo's sudden mood swings, trying to understand them. It's usually very easy to grasp the reason behind Leo's anger or disappointment, mainly because he doesn't really do a thing to try and conceal his discontent, or his motivations. Right now, for example, he knows Leo refused to sleep together with them because he's angry and disappointed. And the reason why he's so angry and disappointed is, of course, Lord Anderson.

Blaine's father's always been a bit of a problem for their relationship. Not that Cody doesn't get where his utter refuse to acknowledge and accept said relationship comes from. Despite how little he knows of the world outside his books, he knows very well that theirs isn't really considered a proper or decent relationship by society. He knows they're frowned upon by the largest part of the city's upper class, and while Blaine's general opposition to attending social meetings and parties sheltered them both against people's direct criticism, he still knows all the lords and ladies in town talk bad about them behind their backs.

He knows Lord Anderson's majorly disappointed in his son. He had such great expectations for him. After watching him rise to the head of the Army and fight proudly for years, like he himself had done before, for the glory of the Nation, he thought that, after retirement, he'd have taken the same road his father had taken under the same circumstances, the road the Anderson family expected him to take. He would've married a classy, rich lady of proper heritage, who'd have given him an heir, and he'd have started the political career, headed for the Ministry of War.

Blaine has done nothing of the likes. He wasn't interested in a political career. He had to leave the battlefields because he had grown sick of fighting, but he was unwilling to leave the Army itself. It had been his job all his life and he couldn't think of the day in which he wouldn’t have been able to be of service anymore. So, instead of leaving, he had merely changed his job: he wasn't Supreme General anymore, a task he had passed to a more befitting, still prime and not already nauseated by his own thirst for blood youngling of his choice, and he had taken upon himself the training of the new recruits.

To Lord Anderson's eyes, now, his son position is just barely less mortifying that it would be the one of a common teacher. And the fact that he decided to marry Cody, a clearly too young boy who's never going to be able to give him children - for obvious reasons - does nothing but worsen his situation.

Cody expected Lord Anderson to be even more disappointed in his son because of his unheard before decision to not only keep a common sex slave around despite being married, but also to promote him to some sort of unofficial second husband who could do everything he wanted around the house, ordering other servants around, walking out of his room free of shackles and sharing the bed with him and Cody. It was an outrageous situation, and despite Lord Anderson's decision to not disown Blaine of his inheritance, it has always been clear, right from the start, he was never going to act kindly with Leo.

Cody never expected it to be any different, but he had hoped for it to be a little less discomforting. He wishes Lord Anderson didn't have to be so pushy with Leo, and he also wishes Leo wouldn't take each remark so personally. Sure, most of what Lord Anderson says is a personal offense aimed at Leo, but really, what else could Leo possibly be expecting? That the head of one of the most ancient aristocratic families of the city would just accept his position in his son's house? A situation younger and more open-minded people would have struggled to accept too? There was no chance.

Which is why Blaine suggested him to try and not catch too much attention during his father's visit. Cody thought it was a wise suggestion, and if he had been Leo he would've accepted it, and he probably wouldn't have stuck his nose out of his room until the visit was over and done with, but Leo isn't Cody, and obviously he couldn't take this.

"So you wanna hide me, now," he said frowning, his eyes shining with rage, "You're ashamed of me. Well, I'll give you something to really be ashamed of, then."

These had been his words and Leo has lived by them since Lord Anderson arrived a few days ago. Blaine hasn't even tried to argue with him, he knew it'd have only made things worse. So, when Lord Anderson had arrived and Leo had greeted him on the doorstep as Blaine should've done himself, the mood of the visit had been set, and it wasn't the brightest one.

Cody turns around on his back and stares at the ceiling, sighing deeply.

"You'll cover that pretty face of yours in wrinkles, if you keep worrying so much," Blaine says, and Cody suddenly turns to look at him, surprised by hearing his voice.

"I thought you were still asleep," he says with a soft smile, waiting for Blaine to turn around on his side to face him, and then curling against his naked chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under his fingertips.

"I haven't slept much," Blaine confesses, placing a soft kiss on Cody's forehead.

"Me neither," Cody sighs, "It's hard without Leo. The bed seems so empty."

"Does it, now?" Blaine asks with a little smirk, playing offended though he isn't.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way!" Cody hastens to say, looking up at him, "It's not that I don't like sleeping with you, it's just—"

"I know," Blaine laughs wholeheartedly, kissing him on his forehead again, and then on his lips, "I know, pet. It's the same for me too. I miss that pest."

"Leo's not a pest," Cody protests with a small pout, "Don't be mean."

"You know I love him," Blaine says with a smile, "But I wish he wouldn't cause these many problems whenever my father's around. Doesn't he get that it's already hard as it is?"

"I think he does," Cody sighs, looking down, "It's just that it's even harder for him, and I think he feels like we don't understand it. Like we don't care that he suffers for being treated like a sex slave when he isn't one anymore."

"He still is, officially," Blaine says.

"Yes, but he's not for us anymore," Cody insists, "We don't treat him like that. Let's be honest, we never really treated him like that. And it's unfair of us to treat him like family every day, and then expect him to just go back and play the slave when your father's here."

"It's a matter of survival, honey," Blaine tries to explain in a resigned sigh, "I can handle my father, if we don't make him angry. But if we push him past the point of his tolerance, there's no telling of what he could do. He's still one of the most influential men in this city. He could cut us off. He could have me lose my job. He could still disown me and strip me of my name, this house, our life, everything. That's the only reason why I asked Leo to do as I said. I'm not just trying to avoid a fight. I'm trying to protect us. Him included."

Cody sighs again, hiding his face against Blaine's chest and leaving a small kiss on his collarbone. "If you could maybe explain this to him in these terms..."

"It'd serve nothing, you know that," Blaine smiles a little sadly, passing his fingers through Cody's straight black locks, "Leo doesn't want to hear any of that. He hates the mere thought."

Cody doesn't insist. He knows it's not his place to do it, and even if it was, he's painfully aware of the fact that Blaine's right. Leo just loses it when they remind him in any way that he's not a real husband and never will be.

"Come on, pet," Blaine reassures him with a warm, hug, "We just have to survive the week. How hard can that be?"

Cody doesn't have an answer to this question, so he doesn't speak. Losing himself into Blaine's hug, though, he can't help but fear that surviving the week could be harder than Blaine thinks.

*
Leo knows patience isn’t exactly his strongest trait. He doesn’t know how to be patient. If something makes him mad, he has to show it. He doesn’t believe in hiding his emotions, never has. Despite his shackled wrists and the months he spent living in a cage after he was captured and before he was sold as a slave, he has always insisted on acting like a free man, even when he wasn’t. And free men laugh when they’re happy, cry when they’re sad, and break things when they’re angry.

He’d never break anything inside Blaine’s home, if anything because he knows that each and every item displayed on the furniture, no matter how ugly, costs a fortune. But he doesn’t hold back his remarks, and he refuses to play the part with a shy smile to conceal his disappointment.

Blaine wants him to hide. He wants him to deny what he is. What they are. Or, if not denying it, at least not to admit it. Not to be so loud about it. Well, Leo can’t have that. Being loud about it is the only thing he has. He can’t marry Blaine and Cody, he can’t be an official, rightful part of their family. Their relationship can only be a true one in the shadows of their bedroom, at night, when they’re locked away from the world. He will never be able to say out loud “yes, I’m their husband”, he will never be able to have people, everybody in the world, recognize him as such. So it’s his right, he believes, to be as loud about it as he possibly can at least around the house.

Blaine and Cody say it’s his home too. That he should believe it is. Well, then, he will. He will do as he pleases, ‘cause that’s what you do in your own home.

He hasn’t slept with them, tonight; therefore, he hasn’t slept well. He never manages, when they’re apart for whatever reason.

He remembers that time Cody caught that horrible illness that had his perfect, pale skin covered in annoying, itching red spots. The medic, alarmed and worried, ordered Blaine and him to stay as far as him as they could, and not to share the bed with him until the illness wasn’t completely gone. For almost ten days, Leo and Blaine had shared the bed in Leo’s room, and despite how much Leo loved to be so close to Blaine, to feel his warmth against his skin, to call him his own forgetting for a moment he had to share him, the longing he felt for Cody for the entire time had been so heart-wrenching he hadn’t been able to sleep for four days straight. He had finally collapsed between Blaine’s arms only on the fifth day, when his body had given up entirely, sending him into such a deep slumber he had slept for two days straight. When he had awakened, he had found Blaine in tears, and he had rushed to ask if Cody was alright, fearing those tears could mean something had happened to him, that he had worsened or something, but Blaine had held him in his arms and, squeezing him tightly, had told him he was the one he had been worrying about.

Leo had never felt so loved as he had felt during those few moments, held between Blaine’s strong arms.

Ha hates to be apart from him. He hates to be apart from Cody. He hates to be angry at them, but he can’t bring himself to stop. He realizes this situation isn’t entirely their fault, that they weren’t aware of Lord Anderson’s visit and that, even if they had been, there’s nothing they could’ve done to make it easier on him, but at the same time he can’t help to hold them accountable for it. He knows the only solution to this would be to drop everything, renounce to Lord Anderson’s inheritance, refuse the Anderson’s name entirely and just move into a different region, somewhere on the sea, far from here, where nobody would know them and they’d be able to be together for real.

He knows this isn’t the easiest decision to make. He knows it’s hard to accept a thought like this. To give up on everything and just flee. He’s not sure he’d be able to take such a decision, if he was in Blaine’s shoes, actually he thinks he probably wouldn’t, he’d be too scared, but at the same time he resents Blaine for not being brave enough to do it. He fought wars, he escaped unscathed from battlefields, and still the mere idea of wander the world poor and nameless with two kids terrifies him beyond reason. Leo can’t understand that. There’s nothing more terrifying than death and captivity, to him. Blaine survived death already, and he’d survive captivity if he escaped the golden bars he’s kept behind now. Poverty is nothing, compared to that. It’s nothing compared to all the happiness they could have.

He walks out of his bedroom, yawning a little and heading downstairs. He’d rather be free of this house and family, for they’re more of a burden than they’re a gift, right now, but as long as Blaine doesn’t take that decision he intends to keep acting as he wants. Which means roam around with no fear of being scolded for that, and attend breakfast with every other proper member of the family.

When he enters the living room, he understands how early it still is, because nobody’s here yet, except for servants setting the table for breakfast, of course. He takes great pleasure in ordering them around as if he was the master of the house. They’ve all hated him since he arrived. At first, they hated him because, strict and stuck up as all house servants always are, they found unacceptable that Blaine had decided to keep him despite how improper was for married men to still keep sex slaves in the house. Then, when they understood that not only he wasn’t going to go away soon, but Blaine and Cody were giving him more freedom than any of them had ever seen in their entire life, they got jealous of him, and the reasons to hate him just kept piling up until they were so many they didn’t even bother to hide it anymore. They were straight up disrespectful and mean to him, and Leo had decided that, if they didn’t care for being decent and kind anymore, then he wouldn’t have either.

He counts the porcelain plates set on the rounded wooden table, and notices they’re only three. “Where’s mine?” he asks, frowning at the maid who’s taking care of arranging the cutlery all around them.

She looks up at him, and he can see the hatred in her eyes, her scorn for being addressed with such boldness by a lowly sex slave, somebody who she thinks to be beneath her on the servants’ social ladder. “I didn’t think you were having breakfast with His Lordship,” she answers bitterly.

“Well, you thought wrong,” he answers roughly, “Set the table for me too.”

“Did you talk about it with His Lordship, first?” she asks, standing straight, her arms crossed behind her back, “Do you have his permission?”

“I don’t need his permission,” Leo answers, shrugging. He detects the flash of outrage that makes her eyes shine with anger the moment she hears him speak in such manner, and he grins at the sight. He’s satisfied.

“I see you haven’t lost this bad habit of yours,” a dark, deep voice says, as the maid freezes on the spot and rushes to bow and leave the room, “To think yourself greater than you are, and overstep the borders as if you didn’t care for them.”

Leo turns around, facing Lord Anderson’s and scowling at him. “That’s because I don’t,” he answers coldly, “Good morning, sir.”

“It’s Your Lordship, for you,” the man answers, anger vibrating in his voice.

“No, I don’t think so,” Leo says, shaking his head.

“Then I don’t think it’s a good morning, either,” Lord Anderson says. Leo watches him walk across the room and sit at the head of the table, on the biggest and richest chair around it. It’s Blaine’s seat, obviously. He doesn’t even have to give it up for his father while he visits, there are no rules forcing him to, not even common courtesy’s ones, because this is, in fact, his house, and not his father’s, but still the man does whatever he pleases here, and Blaine lets him. That’s just another reason to be angry at him.

“Well,” Lord Anderson says, spreading a white satin napkin on his knees, “Since you’re here, you might as well serve me breakfast. I’ll have scrambled eggs, bacon and a cup of dark coffee. Stat.”

Leo’s fists clutch down his sides, as he grits his teeth, glaring at the man. “I’m not a servant,” he says, trying to keep his voice down.

“I beg to differ,” Lord Anderson answers, raising his eyebrows in bewilderment, “A servant is exactly what you are.”

“I swear!” Leo suddenly screams, slamming his hand on the table, “If you don’t shut your mouth right this moment—”

“What is happening here?!”

Leo turns around, focusing on Blaine and Cody, staring at him from the doorstep. They look completely astonished by what they’re seeing, and he can’t even understand why until he realizes that, after he slammed his hand on the table, his fingers closed around one of the knives, and he’s holding it in quite a threatening way, right now. He wants to drop it – instead, he tightens his grip around its hilt.

“Leo,” Blaine says in a low, scolding voice, “What are you doing?”

“It’s not my fault!” he hastens to say, agitated, “He pushed me! He can’t—”

“You better drop that knife, Leo,” Blaine goes on, interrupting him carelessly, as if he wasn’t even interested in what he has to say.

“I wasn’t going to do anything with it!” Leo says, throwing it on the table.

“It didn’t seem like it,” Blaine points out, his voice still firm and cold.

“Yeah, whatever,” Leo growls, starting for the door.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Blaine stops him, closing his fingers in a tight hold around his wrist, “Apologize to my father.”

“What?” Leo turns to look at him, holding his breath.

“I said apologize to my father,” Blaine repeats, staring right into his eyes.

Leo begs him silently. Don’t make me do this. Just don’t.

“Blaine…” Cody tries, squeezing his forearm affectionately, but Blaine shrugs him off.

“Do it, Leo,” he insists.

Leo grits his teeth again, his limbs shaking in fiery rage. “I’m sorry, sir,” he says.

“It’s still Lord Anderson, for you, servant,” Lord Anderson points out.

Leo looks at Blaine again, praying he won’t have him say it, but Blaine’s grip around his wrist just tightens, and his eyes are empty dark mirrors that hold no pity. “Go on,” he says.

Leo pushes him away, freeing him from his grasp. “I’m sorry, Lord Anderson,” he says between his teeth. He doesn’t wait to see a victorious smile bloom on the old man’s lips, before running away. And he runs so fast he’s pretty sure he’s gonna be out the house soon enough, and that’s good, because he doesn’t wanna stop, he wants to keep running, to leave this house behind, not to ever think of Blaine or Cody or anything related to them ever again in his life. But when he stops he’s still inside the mansion, so big it makes him feel trapped as in a maze, and Blaine’s behind him. He followed him. Leo turns around and faces him, anger in his eyes, in the tears running down his cheeks now. “What the hell do you want?!”

“Why do you have to push me like that?” Blaine asks. There’s still anger in his eyes, he’s still looking at him as if Leo was a child and it was his duty to scold him, to rectify his behavior, but there’s also sadness in them, and Leo can’t stand it.

“Push you?” he screams, “How have I pushed you?!”

“You push me when you disrespect my father into my home,” Blaine answers sternly, staring at him, “You know you can’t afford that. We can’t afford that.”

“Haven’t you told me this is my house, that I should do as I please?”

“Being an idiot doesn’t fit into any of that, Leo!” Blaine answers, raising his voice, “Don’t you get it? If my father decides this is war, none of us will survive his fury! Everything we have will be lost!”

“Yeah, and what do we have, Blaine?!” Leo yells at him, his hands shaking, “We have nothing! You, on the other hand, you’ve got everything! You’ve got your father keeping you on the line, pushing you away but keeping you on a leash, and you enjoy that because it means you still have a place in the world! You’ve got your rightful husband you can be proud of, treat like a precious jewel to protect and shelter from every bad thing of life, and then you’ve got me to run to when you wanna do things dirty enough you can’t possibly think to taint Cody with!” he smiles bitterly, tears still streaming down his face, “I was such a fool to believe you could want anything different from that! Why would you? You’ve got everything you could possibly want and you just don’t care that I’ve got nothing in return!”

Blaine parts his lips in disappointment. He’s hurt by Leo’s words, and Leo can see it written all over his face. He can’t even feel any regret about making him feel like this. Right now, all he thinks is that Blaine deserves it.

“How can you say that?” Blaine asks, his voice faint and a little shaky, “After everything—”

“Do not say that!” Leo interrupts him, his eyes open wide in outrage, “Don’t you dare! I won’t be lectured on gratefulness and ungratefulness, not right now, not from you, not after what just happened!” he turns around, giving him his back, “Just leave me alone,” he whispers, before running away.

This time, Blaine doesn’t follow him.

*
Cody finds him sitting on his bed, alone in his bedroom, a few hours later. He knocks, and Leo doesn’t answer. He calls him, and Leo keeps not answering, and at that point Cody just walks in, looking scared and worried and lost like a child who doesn’t really know if he’s supposed to do what he’s doing, but that already feels it’s gonna cause him trouble.

“Leo…?” he whispers, sneaking into the room and closing the door behind himself. He turns to look at Leo, only a dark outline in the shadow of the room, and a desperate whimper escapes his lips as he approaches him. “Leo… I came as soon as I could.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Leo answers coldly. He’s got his knees drawn to his chest, his arms clasped around them. He’s holding himself together because he’s not sure his body alone will be able to pull it off. He’s sad enough he wishes he could let it go. And it’s more than just that, actually. It’s not just sadness. It’s the pointlessness of it all that breaks him. The absolute absence of prospects.

“Don’t say it,” Cody climbs on the bed, kneeling close to him, one of his small hands pressed on Leo’s back, between his shoulder blades, the other one trying to sneak between his knees and his chin, to caress his cheek, “I wanted to see how you were. That scene at breakfast, it was terrifying.”

Sweet little Cody. Leo remembers an old time, right after he arrived, in which the mere thought of him sent him on such a rage. So sweet, so little, so unaware of the world, so easily crushable, and Leo wanted to crush him. To keep Blaine all to himself.

In hindsight, he’s grateful Cody’s still around. He wouldn’t have survived Blaine without him. Blaine’s just not the kind of man one kid alone can survive against. Too hard and demanding and made adamant by his age and upbringing. Cody softens him up just enough so Leo doesn’t have to get bruised whenever Blaine lays a finger on him.

They work so good, the three of them together. It’s such a pity they’re headed nowhere.

“I’m sure Blaine doesn’t want you here,” Leo insists, trying to get away from Cody’s touch. But it’s so soft and tender, so warm and loving. How is he supposed to let go of it? Of any of this? “You better go.”

“I don’t want to go!” Cody snaps, “I’m tired of this, Leo! Look at me.”

“Don’t order me around!” Leo raises his voice. He raises his eyes too, meeting Cody’s. They’re warm and understanding, and Leo instantly realizes looking at him was a big, big mistake. If he ever wants to be ready to do without him, looking at him is exactly the last thing he’s supposed to do. Now he can’t look away.

Cody’s just so beautiful. His tiny frame, his girly features, the natural elegance of each and every move he makes. He looks just like a doll, and he doesn’t even make an effort to. Leo has no idea how he can even be real. When it’s a good day, he thinks about Cody and Blaine and he can’t believe that, despite everything, he got so lucky that two people like them fell in love with him.

Today’s not a good day, though.

“What do you want?” he just asks, looking away from him again.

For a long moment, Cody doesn’t say anything. Leo can still feel his baby blue eyes on himself, trying to make some sense out of him. Truth is, even if he wanted, he could never really make Cody understand how it feels like for him. Cody’s always been loved, he’s always been pampered and protected. He found his one perfect thing in his life, and he doesn’t understand what does it mean to fear it’s gonna be over before he could actually call it his own.

When the silence grows so long it starts to feel awkward, Leo opens his lips to speak and ask Cody to leave again, but Cody doesn’t let him. He wraps his arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a warm, tender embrace. “I want to be with you,” he whispers softly, speaking to Leo’s ear, “Just let me be with you a while.”

Leo shuts his lips quickly, clenching his teeth. Sweetness hurts more than meanness, that’s for sure. He lets out a broken sigh and wraps his arms around Cody too, hiding his face against his chest. He smells so good. Peach and roses and sugar and milk. Leo closes his eyes and inhales that hypnotic scent, rubbing his nose against Cody’s collarbone through the impalpable silky dress he’s wearing. “Is he angry with me?” he asks in a low voice, his fingers moving slowly up and down Cody’s smooth, naked arms.

“I don’t think that’s the point,” Cody smiles sadly, brushing Leo’s wild curls off his forehead to press a kiss there, “Are you angry with him?”

“Yes, I am,” Leo answers, honestly, “He shouldn’t have had me apologize.”

“He’s his father, Leo,” Cody reminds him, his fingers passing soothingly through Leo’s messy locks.

“And I’m his lover,” Leo insists, “He says he loves me. But he puts him first.”

“He puts him first because he loves you,” Cody explains, tightening the grip of his arms around Leo’s neck. He’s so close, now, Leo can feel the warmth of his skin through his clothes, the urgency of his body as it searches for his own, and he gives in to it, ‘cause he’s unable to resist him, his softness and sweetness, the promise of his taste on his tongue, “He’s trying to protect what we have. That includes you.”

“He’s trying to protect himself,” Leo says, his lips already pressed against Cody’s neck, parting lightly to take a small bite, “It’s the only thing he really cares about.”

“You don’t even believe it,” Cody whimpers lightly, tilting his head to the side, exposing more of his neck to the wet trail of Leo’s kisses, “If you could just talk to him. Try and see it from his point of view.”

“Enough talking about Blaine,” Leo cuts it short, raising his head and cupping Cody’s face in his hands, “You said you wanted to be with me. Is that true? Or are you just trying to talk me out of my rage?”

Cody looks at him through heavy-lidded eyes, his lips parted and wet as he breathes out slowly and deeply. Silently, without releasing the hold of his arms around Leo’s neck, he sits down on the mattress and parts his legs for him.

That’s answer enough.

*
“I will never be able to understand your choices, Blaine,” Lord Anderson says, walking nervously up and down the garden shrouded in darkness, barely lit by the whiteness of the moonlight.

“Father, please,” Blaine sighs deeply, passing a hand over his face. He’s sitting on a white marble bench, and he realizes he shouldn’t be sitting like a boy in front of his father. He’s a man, now, he should be proudly standing in front of him. And yet, here he is, sitting and keeping his eyes locked on the ground, trying to take comfort in the sweet smell of the roses coming from the bushes surrounding them.

“Do not please me, Blaine,” Lord Anderson insists, stopping abruptly in front of him, his arms crossed behind his back, “Why do you insist on acting like a whimsical child?”

“I’m trying not to, father,” Blaine answers, “I’m really trying to keep it together.”

“Keep what together, boy?” Lord Anderson asks, and Blaine shivers as he hears him call him as he used to when he was nothing but a child, “This charade of a marriage?”

“My marriage with Cody is not a charade, father,” Blaine says weakly, “We love each other.”

“Really?” Lord Anderson laughs out loud, mockingly, “You love him! And is this the reason why you kept that horrible thing inside your house?”

“Leo is not a thing, father.”

“He’s a servant,” Lord Anderson replies, “Same difference. I just can’t understand it! If you wanted a lover, you could’ve easily gotten one! Most people keep them in houses bought specifically for that reason! Why would you want to keep your lover in your own house, you dumb boy?!”

“He is not my lover!” Blaine answers, raising his eyes and then lowering them instantly once again, “Cody loves him too! He’s a precious gift life gave us, he’s—”

“Oh, enough with this nonsense!” Lord Anderson dismisses him quickly, “I demand you stop babbling about things you clearly have no knowledge of at once. You speak about love, but you don’t understand what love means. To love somebody is to sacrifice ourselves for their sake. And yet, you dragged your husband in a highly improper situation, just because you couldn’t do without your precious slave boy.”

“I’m telling you, Cody loves Leo as much as I do,” Blaine insists, but his voice is so weak, now, it’s barely audible.

“Shut up, Blaine, your husband knows exactly nothing of love, as he knows nothing of life in general!” Lord Anderson yells, losing his patience altogether, “You took him with you when he was nothing but a boy, you molded him into a tiny, helpless thing that’d say yes to everything you told him, of course he says he loves the slave, why would he say otherwise, knowing it’d disappoint you?!”

Blaine’s fingers close in a twitch around his knees, squeezing nervously. He doesn’t say anything.

“Speak!” Lord Anderson says ruthlessly, “Say something!”

But he doesn’t. After a while, Lord Anderson just ups and leaves, snorting in disappointment.

“You’re having the time of your life, aren’t you?” Leo says, joining Blaine in the garden. He’s been watching for the past few minutes, not enough to hear the conversation right from the start, but still enough to get the point of it.

“Leo…” Blaine sighs, covering his face with both his hands and trying as hard as he can not to just tell him to fuck off, “Now’s not really a good time.”

“Yeah? Go figure,” Leo sits down on the bench next to him, swinging his feet back and forth, “You know, that was pathetic.”

“Leo.”

“No, it really was,” Leo insists with a mean smirk, “I think I’ve never seen anything sadder in my entire life. You enjoy being the big man so much, don’t you?, and yet you’re a child when your father scolds you. I swear, it would’ve been hilarious if it hadn’t been so sad.”

“What the fuck is your point, Leo?!” Blaine yells, turning to look at him, “Why are you saying these things?”

Leo looks back at him, keeping quiet for a few moments. “I was with Cody up to five minutes ago,” he says then, “He was very upset. He’s tired of all this. He thinks I should talk to you and see things from your perspective. You know what, I think I already do. Your perspective is the one of a weak boy. You’re frightened to death. When your father isn’t around you feel like you own the world, and suddenly when he is you’re back to when you owned nothing. How much does that burn?”

“Leo, stop.”

“I had sex with Cody, before I came here,” he goes on in a calm, low voice, “He came to me and he was so sad, he was missing me. We kissed and then I fucked him, and we were all alone in my bed, and you were as far from our thoughts as you could possibly be. Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“Please, stop.”

“You’re a boy, just like your father said,” Leo closes his fists, looking angrily at him, “You couldn’t stand your ground if your life depended on it. You’re fragile and scared and you understand nothing. What do you know of love? What have you given up on, for love? I’ll tell you what: nothing. I could’ve run away. I could’ve killed you both in your sleep. Nobody would’ve ever found me, I’d have been free. But I didn’t want to. ‘Cause I love you. I decided to stay, I gave up on my freedom for you.”

“Leo, I’m begging you.”

“And what about Cody?” he simply goes on, ignoring his plea, “He was your only love, the king of this mansion, the only human being you could have given your life for, he was your life itself, and he didn’t even flinch when he had to accept me. Why? Out of love. He gave up on exclusivity, for you. For me.”

Blaine says nothing to answer that. He’s tired of asking Leo to stop, especially when it’s so clear he won’t.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“Would it make a difference?”

“No,” Leo admits with a sigh, “No, it wouldn’t. I pretty much hate you, right now. I don’t think you appreciate the situation as it really is. I think you’re not able to give up on anything for the people you say you love. I don’t really believe yours is love at all.”

“Then why are you still here?” Blaine asks bitterly. He doesn’t even look at Leo. He feels that, if he does, he’s going to end up crying like the child everybody’s telling him he is. He can’t have it right now. “You said it yourself. You could be free. Then, if you don’t think I love you, go on. Be free. Get lost.”

Leo lowers his eyes, breathing deeply in and out. “I can’t,” he says in a low voice, “I love you too much. You’re the only thing I can’t give up on.”

Blaine turns to look at him, his eyes are full of tears and he feels ashamed for being so weak, for showing himself so naked and breakable. That’s not what he wants to be, but perhaps that’s exactly what he is. “I’m sorry I can’t love you the way you want me to love you,” he says, “I’m sorry I can’t give you all you want and all you deserve. I’m trying, Leo. I’m really trying. I’m struggling.”

“I can see that,” Leo stands up and closes the distance between them, standing in front of him. He holds Blaine’s face in his hands, looking at him, speaking softly to him. “I can’t understand why you do this to yourself. It would be so easy to just run off.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Blaine sighs, placing both hands on Leo’s, squeezing them between his fingers, “You think it would, because you’re filled with fantasies and idealizations of romantic love, Leo, but it wouldn’t. I’ve got a responsibility. I’ve got tons. You’re one of those, but running away with you and Cody, leaving all the rest behind, it wouldn’t be a solution, just an easy way out. I’m not used to easy way outs. I’m not used to retreats. I don’t want to back off. You’re right— I don’t want to give up on anything. I want to have it all.”

Leo looks at him silently for a few seconds, weighing his words, letting them sink in. Then he leans in, pressing a soft kiss on Blaine’s lips. “Be careful,” he says, “You’re trying to hold too much in your hands. You could end up with nothing.”

He leaves without another word. Alone in the garden, Blaine finally presses both hands against his eyes and cries in silence until he’s got no more tears to shed.

*
When the maid walks in to announce Lord Anderson won’t be joining them for lunch, Blaine can’t help but sigh with relief.

It’s not that he hates his father. In fact, it’s quite the contrary. He wasn’t a very present father, when Blaine was a kid, just like he hadn’t been a very present father for Cooper – his older brother – either. He also wasn’t a very present husband for their mother— but he was a hero. Blaine had been raised to look up to him since he could walk and talk. There hasn’t been a single day of his entire life in which he hasn’t felt like he should follow his steps, do what he expected him to do, think how he expected him to think, even want what he expected him to want.

He doesn’t do this out of cruelty, his father. He doesn’t scold him because he wants him to be miserable. He doesn’t reproach him to diminish him. He just wants him to be happy, Blaine thinks. To have all he deserves, all his birthright promised him for just being born into the Anderson family. It’s understandable, and Blaine knows parents just have to be stern. They don’t enjoy being it, but they have to. You’ve got to be cruel to be kind and kids have to toughen up and all that.

Except he’s not a kid, not anymore, and he’d expect his father to recognize that. But Leo’s right, his father’s right, he can’t expect to be treated like an adult if he himself isn’t acting like one.

He’s not acting like an adult now that he feels relieved and instantly better just because he was just told he won’t have to dine with his father for today. He’s acting just like a kid who broke something would. Scared by the fact that his father might find out what he did and scold him, he’s relieved because he can postpone the moment, if only for a little while.

That’s pathetic. But it is what it is.

“Can we call Leo?” Cody asks.

Blaine turns to look at him and blinks. He wasn’t paying attention. Cody’s question seemingly comes out of nowhere and makes no sense in his head. “Come again?” he asks, surprised.

Cody blushes and curls his heart-shaped mouth in a pretty smile. “Since your father won’t share lunch with us, it should be safe to ask Leo to come down and eat here. He’d be happy. I’d be happy too. Wouldn’t you?”

He would. He definitely would. He’s dying for some normality, for some sort of comeback of all the things they used to do before his father came to visit. He’s been here just a couple weeks, and it feels like years already. He wants his kids back.

He stands up, smiling gently at Cody. “I’ll go get him,” he says. Cody literally beams, half-jumping up from the chair and then remembering he’s supposed to control himself, especially in front of the other servants. They already hate Leo enough as it is, they don’t need to fuel their discontent even more.

Blaine smiles, though, all the way up to Leo’s bedroom, and he’s still smiling as he knocks on the door, waiting for an answer.

“Go away,” Leo says, “I don’t wanna see you.”

Blaine chuckles, leaning against the door. “How did you know it was me?”

“It’s always you when I don’t wanna see you, and it’s never you when I want to.”

“That’s unfair.”

“That’s the truth.”

“Still unfair.”

From inside the room, Leo sighs deeply, and then Blaine hears him stand up from the bed and get closer. The lock of the door opens soon after that, and in a little while he can already see Leo’s face as it appears in the doorframe when Leo finally opens the door.

“You’re still angry at me, aren’t you?” Blaine asks, smiling softly at him.

“I perfectly recall using a very different word. I told you I hated you.”

“You don’t hate me.”

Leo sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t. But yes, I’m still angry.”

“I come bearing a peace offering, though,” Blaine tries, curling his lips in an apologetic smile, “My father doesn’t wish to join us for lunch. So Cody and I thought it’d be safe to ask you to come downstairs to dine together.”

Leo raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your pity moves me,” he says, pursing his lips into an offended pout.

Blaine can’t help but chuckle at his expression, because he looks just like the kid he is. Leo’s very mature, for his age, so every now and then Blaine needs to be reminded about how much of a child he actually still is. “Now, don’t make it harder than it already is,” he tries, moving closer and cupping Leo’s face in his hands, brushing his thumbs on his cheeks.

“You deserve it,” Leo insists. His pout is so kissable. Blaine decides he doesn’t want to deprive himself, so he leans in and kisses him.

Leo gives in so easily it almost moves him to tears. He lifts his hands and wraps his fingers around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him in and kissing him deeply, melting against him. Blaine holds him close and lets himself believe everything’s fine, even if just for a couple of minutes.

When they join with Cody in the sitting room, he’s obviously overjoyed. They walk in hand in hand and, seeing them, Cody jumps on his feet again and throws himself at Leo, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him on his lips, oblivious to the horrified looks the servants cast him from the four corners of the room.

“I was hoping you weren’t angry anymore,” he chirps, hiding his pretty face against Leo’s chest and swinging a little back and forth while Leo chuckles, amused by his childish behavior.

“Actually, he wanted to make sure we knew that not only he’s still angry, but that he also hates me,” Blaine points out, nodding to himself.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Leo snorts, slapping him on his back.

Blaine laughs, and Cody looks up at Leo. “So it’s all forgiven?” he asks, his voice filled with hope.

“I don’t know,” Leo sighs, “I can’t pretend I’m alright with everything that’s happening, I’m annoyed and I hate Lord Anderson. I can’t just stop wishing him gone. He’s ruining my life, I can’t stand the thought. But for the time being, I guess we’re alright.”

“I’m glad you didn’t need my counsel to decide that. Much less glad about the fact that I can’t turn my head a single moment, that this house falls back into sheer chaos.”

They all turn suddenly towards the door, in front of which Lord Anderson stands now. He’s like a ghost that just appeared out of thin air, his old-fashioned clothes and his austere expression making him look more like one of those portraits of the old Lords of the Anderson family hanging on the wall in the trophy room than a real person.

“Father—” Blaine tries, swallowing hard, but Lord Anderson shuts him up with a single hard, cold look, and Blaine withdraws, rigid and tense.

“Don’t speak, Blaine,” he says, advancing further into the room, “Do not say a single word. I tried to understand what was going on inside your head, inside this house, I tried to understand your reasons, but I—”

“Father, you didn’t try,” Blaine stops him, taking a step forward, “You never tried!”

“I said shut up, Blaine!” the man yells, lifting his hand clutched up in a fist and shaking it a little. “You know nothing! If I say I tried, rest assured, I tried. And it was my mistake. Because there’s clearly nothing to understand, here. This is a perversion and as such it’s got to be stopped.”

“Father, don’t speak like this,” Blaine tries to placate him, speaking in a low, soft voice, “There’s nothing wrong in what we do.”

“I have never witnessed anything else that was even remotely close to be as wrong as this is, Blaine! This is a farce, a slap in the face of the sanctity of marriage, you’re spitting on the base itself of our society, you let your husband shamelessly kiss a sex slave you shouldn’t even possess and you don’t bat an eyelid at it! You should at least have them both flogged for such an insult!”

“Father!”

“Now, you old bag, I suggest you to shut that hole immediately,” Leo growls, taking a step towards the man, “Or else—”

“Leo, back off,” Blaine tries to stop him, gently pushing him towards Cody and waiting for his husband to wrap his arms around him, to contain him, before letting him go.

“If he dares speak another word—” Leo adds.

“If I dare?!” Lord Anderson yells, moving threateningly towards the kid, “This is my house, you dirty, filthy whore! I will say whatever I want, and do as I please! And if my son’s weak enough not to understand what kind of a deathly threat you are, then I’ll deal with you personally!”

“You will do no such thing!” Blaine finally spits out, placing himself in between his father and Leo, “Now I’ve had enough of this! I’ve had enough of you!”

Lord Anderson freezes on the spot, looking up at his son with his eyes wide open in bewilderment. “Blaine!” he cries out, outraged.

“Shut up!” Blaine goes on, putting both hands on his father’s shoulders and pushing him away from his kids, “I’m done taking orders from you! I’m done even listening to you, if you don’t understand you need to tone yourself down right now if you don’t want me to kick you out! Because this, father, this is my house, not yours, and you better start behaving accordingly!”

“How dare you?!” Lord Anderson yells, slapping his son’s hands away from himself, “Stand back, child! You need to let me handle this, for your sake!”

“It’s you who needs to stand back, father, for your safety,” Blaine replies, glaring at him, “For I won’t be held accountable for the way I’ll deal with you if you keep disrespecting me in my own house.”

“Disrespecting you!”

“Yes. Me, or my lovers.”

“Your lovers!” his father answers, laughing out loud, concealing disgust behind mockery, “How am I disrespecting this pitiful excuse of a family, if it doesn’t deserve any respect to begin with? This is wrong, it’s outrageous and I won’t stand for it.”

“You don’t need to,” Blaine answers coldly, crossing his arms over his chest, “I’m not asking for your permission, father. I never asked for your permission. I’d have been glad to have your blessing, and not having it breaks my heart, but I don’t need it. In fact, as of now, I don’t think I even want it anymore.”

Lord Anderson stares at him, at a loss words. “I could disown you,” he says weakly, “I could make your life impossible. You don’t want to do this, Blaine.”

Blaine could have never imagined that, in hearing such words coming from his father, his first reaction would’ve been a smile. And yet he smiles, tilting his head to the side a bit. “Don’t I, now?” he asks rhetorically, “Really?”

Lord Anderson’s eyes are dark, now, full of rage. He straightens himself up, clutching his fists down his side. “You’ll regret this, son,” he says coldly.

Blaine shrugs. “Perhaps,” he says. “You’re welcome to come back if you ever change your mind. Until then, though, I suggest you stay away from here, father, for you wouldn’t be welcomed warmly.”

Furious as he is, Lord Anderson not only leaves the room, but the mansion too, at once. He doesn’t even stop by his room to collect his things, he just walks out, slamming the door behind himself and jumping on his carriage, ordering his coachman to take him back to the city as fast as he can.

“Man,” Leo says in a whiny voice, resting his elbow on Blaine’s shoulder and sighing, “We’re gonna have to ship all his shit back to his address, now. Guess who’s gonna have to do all the heavy lifting.”

“Well, not me, for sure!” Cody answers, horrified at the mere thought of having to lift Lord Anderson’s outrageously heavy trunks.

“Yeah,” Leo sighs, “My point exactly.” He looks up at Blaine, “Blaine, let’s ask the stable boy or something, I don’t wanna…” but he doesn’t finish his sentence, because he can see Blaine’s not even listening to him. He’s still staring at the now empty spot previously occupied by his father’s body, right in front of him, and he’s so still he doesn’t even seem to be breathing. “Blaine?” he asks, “Are you alright?”

Blaine doesn’t answer. Growing worried, Cody moves a step closer and puts his hand on his husband’s forearm. Only then, Blaine seems to reanimate. He finally takes a deep breath, in and out, and then swallows. He still doesn’t speak.

“I guess he’ll need a bit more time,” Cody considers, “It might be better to skip lunch, for today.”

Leo actually agrees.

*
They both help him getting into bed, because Blaine doesn’t seem in any way ready to do anything on his own.

“I’m worried,” Leo says, pushing Blaine to sit down on the edge of the bed and then kneeling on the ground to take off his boots, “Has he ever acted like this?”

“No,” Cody shakes his head, kneeling on the mattress right behind Blaine and wrapping his arms around his chest to unbutton his shirt before letting it slide down his shoulders and arms, “But then he had never kicked his own father out of here, before, so it’s not like I have any previous similar situations to compare this to.”

“Makes sense,” Leo sighs and stands up again, pressing his hands on Blaine’s now naked shoulder to have him lie down. “Blaine? You still with us?” he asks, as he unbuttons the man’s pants and tugs at them to take them off him.

“I’m here…” Blaine says in a soft sigh, with a pretty annoyed voice, “I’m fine. I wasn’t in any mood to talk, I thought that keeping quite could be a pretty clear indication about that.”

“It wasn’t,” Leo shakes his head, kneeling on his left.

“We’re sorry,” Cody adds, kneeling on his right.

Blaine looks at them both, and then covers his face with both hands. “This is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?” he asks weakly, “My father’s going to strip us off of everything, and we’ll be left homeless, penniless and nameless, forced to wander the outskirts, living off trash and leftovers.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Leo clicks his tongue, sitting down with his legs and arms crossed, “Even if that happened, would it really be so bad? You know, we wouldn’t have to stay around here. We could just move someplace else, we could all find ourselves a real job and earn our living instead of living off your father’s money.”

“We don’t live off my father’s money,” Blaine corrects him, frowning, “I have a real job that pays for all this.”

“Yeah, together with your father’s money,” Leo nods. It is true that Blaine’s job guarantees him a certain amount of money every month, but they’re all perfectly aware of the fact that his salary alone couldn’t pay for this house and its maintenance in a thousand years. “Would it be so bad to just go and start again from scratch?”

Blaine sighs, and Cody notices his eyes getting darker all of a sudden. He knows Leo would kill for a fresh start, something that could put him at the same level with Cody and Blaine, but he also knows it’d kill Blaine to lose everything he’s built in his life, this house, his job that he loves so much, because of his father.

“Why don’t we put this whole thing on hold?” he asks, smiling tenderly at Leo as he places a hand on Blaine’s, to cut the argument out, “We’re all tired. And honestly, we haven’t shared the bed in such a long time I’m surprised you two want to talk at all.”

His words work like a charm on both of them. There’s probably no solution to what they’re going through, to what they’re bound to go through in the next few months. They’ll just have to deal with it, whatever it is, whenever it comes.

Until then, though, their shared bed seems like a very good place to start.