Warmth
Blaine wasn’t sure when exactly their relationship had changed.
Blaine wasn’t sure when exactly their relationship had changed.
Maybe it was their first sleepover, when Blaine had asked to borrow Jude’s sweater in the November chill. They were fourteen years old, had only really been friends for a month or so, but Jude’s mom had said he could have one friend over to stay.
“Hey, Jude?”
“Yeah?”
It was dark. They’d long since packed up the video games, wolfed down their dinners, and changed into their pyjamas. Blaine was on the air mattress, which had been blown up beside Jude’s bed. He’d been given Ben10 themed bedding for it. “Sorry,” Jude had said with a grin. “My old stuff becomes our spares.”
Blaine didn’t know what hour it was, but he’d not managed to fall asleep, and it seemed Jude hadn’t either.
“Can I borrow a sweater?”
“Sure. You cold?”
“A little.”
He heard Jude’s sheets rustling as he climbed out of bed, his footsteps padding across the room to his closet and back again.
“Here, it’s my softest one.” Blaine could barely see Jude handing him the lump of fabric through the darkness.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Night, Blaine.”
“Night, Jude.”
He pulled the sweater over his head, and true to Jude’s word, it was thick and fleecy on his skin.
Jude climbed back into his bed and Blaine pulled the sheets back over himself. They lay in silence for a few minutes, and he heard Jude roll over.
“Blaine?”
“Yeah?”
“You warmer?”
Blaine turned himself to face Jude. “A little.”
“You can…if you’re too cold, you can get in here. If you want.”
Blaine paused.
“Sorry, that was weird, you don’t have to – oh, okay.”
Jude was cut off as Blaine climbed into the single bed. They were a little too old and a little too big to comfortably share, but after all – their aim was warmth. Their faces were just inches apart, and Blaine felt awkward not knowing where to put his arms before he felt Jude’s settle around his waist, and he did the same to him.
Their knees knocked together as they relaxed into each other’s presence. Blaine wasn’t sure which of them had started it, but they were both subconsciously dancing their fingertips in circles, up and down each other’s backs.
He was warmer now.
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Maybe it was two weeks later, when the five of them were walking into town, and Jude had stopped them all to take pictures of the flowers growing out of the hedgerows.
“C’mon, Jude!” Shane was impatient. “We’ve gotta be home by eight!”
“Hey, he’ll only be a minute.” Micah sidled beside him with a smile. “These’ll look great, Jude. You’ve really got the lighting for it.”
Jude smiled, and turned to Blaine. “Can I get one of you sat with the flowers?”
“Oh sure,” Erin rolled her eyes jokingly. “Nothing for the rest of us.”
“Oh hush, you’re all pretty,” Jude replied with a blush. “Blaine’s just wearing colours that contrast really well with the scenery, and it would make a really interesting photo, and -”
“Just take the pictures, Jude,” Micah encouraged him.
“Blaine?” Jude asked again, and Blaine felt a warmth within him at his friend’s smile.
“Oh, yeah, sure, where do you want me?”
Jude spent the next five minutes repositioning Blaine, taking pictures whilst the others watched on. He could see Shane bouncing in the corner of the eye, and at the realisation that he was distracting the two of them, Micah took him out of their view to wait.
“Okay, just, turn your head a little – no, to the left, okay, that’s nice,” Jude said, taking a few shots. He looked down at the camera screen displaying the shots and frowned.
“Hm, not quite.”
“Not quite?”
Jude looked up and put the camera down where he’d been stood. He walked towards Blaine, crouching where he was. He brought his hand to Blaine’s arm, using his fingertips to nudge it down just slightly.
“There,” He said, gently, taking a step back to look.
“Good?”
Jude’s eyebrows furrowed again. “No,” he crouched back down, touching his fingertips to Blaine’s jaw to adjust his head.
Blaine didn’t know if he’d ever flushed so much in his life.
“There,” Jude said softly, with a smile when Blaine flicked his eyes to meet his. “Don’t move,” he ordered, going back to his position and picking up his camera.
Blaine’s face burned for weeks where Jude had touched him.
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Maybe it was when Jude had been crying at school, a few days before they’d let out for winter break.
“Jude?”
When Jude hadn’t turned up to meet for lunch, Blaine had gone looking for him. He’d found him crying, hidden in a corner of an empty classroom.
Jude didn’t respond. He was curled in on himself, almost screaming with the sobs, ripping through Blaine like fire.
He sat down only an inch away, feeling helpless. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to help.
All he could do was place an arm around Jude, pull him close, comfort him as gently as he could with quiet words and small strokes of his ribs.
He pressed a small kiss to the top of his head.
Jude’s crying calmed at that, and Blaine spent the rest of his lunch hour holding Jude, in Jude’s arms, hearing about what they’d said to Jude.
When the bell had rung for classes to start back up, they’d looked at each other for a moment, and Jude buried his head into the tender of Blaine’s neck.
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Maybe it was when the five of them went to see Marley and Me at the New Year.
Blaine wasn’t sure why Micah had suggested it – he knew he’d read the book, he’d told him he’d cried over it.
But at least it gave him a chance to hold Jude’s hand.
Their fingers intertwined only ten minutes in, thumbs rubbing gently over the backs of each other’s hands, heads leant against each other.
Even after the film had ended, they had walked hand in hand to the mall for food. Well, Blaine thought, not quite hand in hand, but their knuckles bumped together as they walked together, Erin in front of them tapping away on her phone, Shane and Micah leading the group. They were a little too close together, Blaine thought.
He’d looked at Jude when the other boy wrapped his little finger around Blaine’s. Jude gave a soft smile, looking down to the ground before looking ahead.
“So,” he murmured. “Micah and Shane?”
Blaine sighed.
“I don’t know.”
“Have you noticed anything at home?”
“No. Not yet.” Blaine admitted.
“Yet?”
“I think – I think they’re up to something. I’m just not sure – to what depth.”
Jude nodded. “I can see that.”
“I’m worried,” Blaine confessed. “You know my dad isn’t - well – tolerant.”
Jude gave a sad smile. “We’ll keep an eye on them.”
He wrapped his hand fully around Blaine’s and gave a tight squeeze, their eyes meeting and lasting just a moment too long before he let go.
Jude’s hands had been warm against his own.
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Maybe it was when they’d shared a bed. Again. Or the other time.
Their sleepovers had become more and more frequent as more and more arguments transpired between Bart and Marlene. Shane was sent to Micah’s, and Blaine to Jude’s. The two brothers would share a look as they were separated for the night, a quick hug before they left their home.
Blaine was laid under the blanket with Jude.
“I think they’re going out.” He whispered, feeling the sob go through him as he was held by Jude.
“Shh, shh, - Blaine,” Jude’s voice was tender. “Blaine – it’ll be okay, you’ll both be okay.”
“I’m so -” Blaine shook in Jude’s arms. “I’m so scared, Jude.”
He was. He was terrified of what could happen to Shane, to Micah, if Bart found out.
He’d caught them the week before. They were in the Anderson’s kitchen, Shane leaning over Micah against the breakfast bar, his hand slipping under Micah’s shirt and settling on his hip. Blaine had turned away and left.
“They know they can come here,” Jude murmured, talking through Blaine’s curls, where his face was buried. “You all know my mom would have any of you, any day of the week, no questions asked.”
“I know, but that doesn’t-”
“That doesn’t stop the fear, I know. I know.”
“Jude-”
“We’ll all be okay in the end. I promise you, Blaine, we will.”
Blaine just curled into Jude’s chest, his hand reaching under his shirt to touch gently at his skin and hug tighter. He could still taste the earlier lemonade they’d been drinking on his tongue. He could hear the birds outside, chirping in the early hours the boys were still awake in. He could smell Jude’s mom’s washing detergent on the sheets and on Jude’s shirt, and he could smell Jude.
It was January, but he smelt of summer heat.
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Maybe it had never changed, Blaine thought, stood in all black at the cemetery. Maybe he had just – finally started noticing.
The last conversation he and Jude had had – he wasn’t sure he’d ever tell a soul. How they’d talked, avoiding talking about their feelings but confronting them all the same. How they’d shared a hesitant press of their lips before breaking apart.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Blaine.” Jude had said with a smile. He had been quiet, but content, Blaine could tell, and he adjusted the camera strap on his shoulder before he turned to leave.
That day had ended for Blaine with so much hope, only for the next to begin numb.
He stood over the grave, the last to leave after he’d sent the others away. Shane had shot him a knowing look as he’d left.
He held the umbrella over himself, but his face was damp all the same. He shivered, thinking of Jude’s sweater that was still resting in Blaine’s closet.
He was fifteen, and he was cold.
