youcancallmeq replied to your post: i heart blaine’s cock.
same
courageblaineanderson replied to your post: i heart blaine’s cock.
Is it good for you as it is for me?
lol quinn remember when we dated? and then i got your sister knocked up?
and it’s better for me xoxox
Everett watched as Cameron climbed into bed, only wishing he could make things easier on Cameron. Everett figured he’d always been protecting Cam, doing enough to look out for him, but when Ev had pulled him out of his shell and encouraged him to be all he could be the world hit him hard and fast. So much changed so quickly for Cam once Everett introduced him to sex and what Everett considered the better side of life. Everett assumed that Cameron could take it, could make his own decisions and handle hooking—even if Everett didn’t completely approve of it—and that he would be okay so long as Everett made sure nobody beat him up and ditched him in an alley, but Ev had never taken much stock in the emotional kind of hurt. At least not until later, until he had to take notice of his own feelings, not until Cameron was tearing at the seams with emotional damage.
It was unsettling to see Cameron, so vivacious and strong, seem so meek because while Cameron may have been introverted at times he was never meek. Everett knew better now than to try and shuck the blame, it was partly his fault and Cameron had been the one person he had tried not to screw over, but he only ended up screwing him over the worst of them all.
“I’ll tell Blaine it wouldn’t be wise to visit then… I’ll just sit here and read if you’d rather not talk at all, I could read aloud,” Everett offered, “or I could leave if you’d rather.”
Cameron poked his head out from under the covers. It’d been ages since he’d been able to read a book. He missed stories terribly. They helped them get out of his own mind for a minute.
“I’d like that,” he whispered. “If you read.”
One of the many things that Everett and Cameron had in common was their love for books, the care they had for books. Everett had swatted many an Anderson for creasing covers and dog earring pages because books were valuable things to be cared for and looked after not used and abused until ratty but they just didn’t understand. Another thing they shared was their taste in literature; Everett adored books of social commentary, both fiction and non-fiction that studied people, displaying startling characters that defied the norm set up within the realms of the pages. A Clockwork Orange was one of Everett’s favourites for sure, and he knew it was the same for Cameron.
Everett refused to pity Cam or be overly-sympathetic or condescending, no matter how difficult to comprehend the world may have been to Cameron Everett would always consider him his equal—perhaps that was why their relationship had been so volatile before, Everett had never been used to respecting somebody. “I’m not Blaine, I’m Everett. I’m sure my brother would come to see you if you wanted.”
Cameron bit his lower lip; his brows furrowed. Yes. Blaine wouldn’t come here, anyway. But why would Ev visit him? Why would anyone?
Cameron crawled into his bed, hiding under his sheets; the world outside was too confusing for him to take in at the moment. He didn’t understand much, and things just made so much sense when they were written on paper. It was so much easier to feel things when they weren’t real, but this was all real. Cameron hated that Blaine and Sami weren’t going to visit and things were just so messed up.
He missed the days when he only ever talked to Kurt or his mom or Kerp. Cameron had always been shy. Then, after his mom died, he’d only wanted to read, because he loved to read, and he just read the bible day and night, and it both scared and fascinated him and it was all he could talk about until the day Kurt told him that it was all fake. Cameron just never talked to people, or made good friend with anyone outside of his books until Ev came along and messe it all up. He made Cameron brave, and confident, but so, so afraid to disappoint anyone. Everything fell to crap from there. Everything.
“I don’t want it,” he mumbled from under the sheets.
Grateful for not having the door slammed in his face Everett pushed himself inside the room clumsily, still not all that used to using his wheelchair and his injured hand still not able to use it’s full range of movement, and came to a stop near the foot of Cameron’s bed. The vacancy in Cam’s face didn’t go unnoticed but Everett held his tongue. God knows what medication they had Cameron under, that and Cam’s state of mind which Everett had no real measure of but at least Cameron recognised him.
Everett stroked his thumb down the spine of the book nestled in his lap, having been reading A Clockwork Orange on the way here, and let his smile grow wider. “Not quite yet. Soon though, it’s the 19th,” he said, although how much relevance it held for Cameron or how long he’d be able to keep track of the date Everett didn’t know. After a moment he added, “I could buy him something on your behalf if you really think he’ll be mad, which I doubt he will, although don’t expect me to give it to him myself.”
Cameron nodded, not really registering Ev’s words, but eyeing the book in his hand. His finger twitched; they’d taken his books away from him after he’d given himself a paper cut. He’d tried to tell the nurses that it wasn’t on purpose. He’d never sully the beautiful black and white of a page with blood - the red was pretty, yes, but it dried into a hideous brown and Cam just wouldn’t do that with a book.
The last time Cam had anyone over, it was Sami and Kurt. No, Kerp. Kurt hadn’t visited. Cameron sighed. Sami. She hated him now, more than anyone. He was sure her family did, too. He looked up, suddenly confused.
“Blaine? What are you doing here? Why are you - I thought you were mad at…” His voice trailed off, and all he could do was whimper, tears gathering in his eyes.
Everett didn’t have to imagine what it was like for Cameron, in hospital with burns, just lying there minute after hour after day until not even time seemed real anymore. He was fortunate to have been relieved from the general hospital, instead given strict schedules of activities at the respite centre which kept time fluid and moving, he’d have gone mad—madder, rather—had he not been given things to do.
“Hey Cam,” he said softly, smiling up at Cameron without malice. Vague memories of Cameron visiting him while he was back in the secure hospital resurfaced but dissipated before he could get a real grasp on them. “I wondered if you might like some company. Silent company if that’s what you wanted, but it’d be more than just staring at the wall.”
Cameron blinket down at Everett, trying to remember who exactly Everett was to him. He only vaguely remembered; most of the memories were unpleasant, but Cameron didn’t exactly have enough energy to care. He shrugged, letting Ev into the room.
“…They’ve been singing carols outside for a while. Is it Christmas, yet?” Cameron mumbled. He closed his eyes, sitting on the floor. “Kurt’s going to be mad that I didn’t have a chance to get him anything, but I doubt he cares… I doubt…”
It had been a while since Everett had spoken to Cameron, longer since they’d spent time together and truth be told Everett missed his friend, if he could have even called Cameron that. Friend or not Everett cared a great deal for him once upon a time and evidently his attraction to Cam had been magnetic, something he’d never been able to fight. It seemed like he’d met Cam in the wrong time and the wrong frame of mind and perhaps now, when he could at least see the possibility of calling Cameron a friend, things might turn out differently.
Everett resigned himself to the humiliation of being wheeled to Cameron’s room by a nurse and rapped on the door, shooing the insistent bothersome nurse and promising to call her if he needed anything.
Cameron sighed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He’d lost track of the amount of time he’d been here; the seconds kept feeling like hours and the hours dragged on into lifetimes. He didn’t really care, though. He didn’t care about seeing people any more. This was kind of like his hell, his purgatory. It was almost like he was dead, and he took comfort in that.
A knock sounded on the door and Cameron walked over, opening the door, thinking it was the nurse again - but it wasn’t.
“Ev,” Cameron whispered, startled by the sound of his own voice; he hadn’t made it a point to speak at all over the past few weeks.
