In hindsight, asking Dad if he could go to a private boys’ academy in Ohio first thing in the morning, is a bad idea.
“You want to what?” Dad blurts out, coffee mug falling out of his hands. Jan swoops in and catches it, wings fluttering behind her as she eases her way up slowly to place the mug on the counter.
“Tony, be more careful.” she chides, but she’s laughing and his Dad glares at her.
“Ohio, Dad.” Blaine tries again, a little more slowly. “Coop said Dalton has free tuition for honor roll students, and look at the brochures! The classes are amazing! They have scholarship opportunities for full rides!”
“Blainers, you and me both know money isn’t an issue in this household.” Dad says skeptically. Blaine scratches the back of his neck at his Dad’s scrutinizing stare, and just as things get horribly awkward, Steve walks in.
“What’s all the morning fuss?” he asks in his usual, I’m-Way-Too-Chipper-In-The-Morning-Voice. Jan returns to her full size, perched on the kitchen island with her legs crossed.
“Blaine wants to go to Ohio.”
Steve blinks at Blaine. “You want to live with Amanda?” Dad visibly twitches at his Mom’s name. Blaine shakes his head immediately.
“No! I love it here! I love you, Dad, and the team.” Blaine says, eyes widening at Dad imploringly. Tony visibly relaxes, eyes softening but mouth still set in a frown. “But, I miss Coop. And he’s at Dalton for his final year and I think it would be cool to spend at least one school year with him. I’m a tired of being home schooled.”
“You know exactly why you’re home schooled.” Dad says. Steve puts a hand on Dad’s shoulder, but Dad shrugs it off. “Those boys-“
“Were stupid, idiotic, and complete homophobes.” Jan says. “It’s been two years since then, Tony. I think Blaine is trying to tell you, in a polite way, to stop being an overprotective mother hen.” Blaine sends a “thank-you” glance at her, and she winks at him. She’s being unusually serious- “But I also think Blaine just want to meet some boys his age, if you know what I mean.” Annnd there is the Jan he knows. Blaine flushes a deep red as his Dad chuckles. But, at least Dad is amused, right?
While his Dad is still positive, he should probably start listing benefits. This is also apparently the moment where Clint and Natasha walk in, followed by Peter in a ratty robe and Thor rubbing at his eyes. (T’Challa is mostly likely sleeping and Bruce is probably listening to the morning News in the entertainment room.) Blaine, as always when he becomes flustered, begins to gesticulate wildly.
“I mean, with me gone, you won’t have to worry about me being kidnapped and held for ransom-not like I can’t take care of myself or anything-and you can,” he’s grasping for straws now. Time to use the most pathetic example he can muster: “You can be more available for the company!”
Jan snorts and Natasha clutches her stomach, bursting out with laughter. Blaine flushes. Dad snorts and leans across the island to ruffle Blaine’s hair. Blaine grimaces because it’s gel-less and horrific. His Dad knows he hates having his hair mussed.
“I think Blaine should go.” Clint says. Everyone’s attention goes to him, and Blaine feels his mouth gape. Clint turns away from the stove that he was pre-heating. Wait, when did Clint start cooking pancakes? Blaine doesn’t have a moment to speculate because Clint says, “Blaine has got to be more than bored with his Dad macking on Captain America by now. And Bruce smashing the televisions.”
Blaine slouches on the stool and buries his face into his hands. “Oh my God, Clint, I so could have done without the mental image.”
“I don’t know, I sort of liked it.” Dad says. Blaine groans in mortification and when he looks backs up, he’s half-glaring at Dad but also half-smirking when sees that at least Steveis blushing in embarrassment.
Clint turns back to his pancakes. “Blaine is isolated in a fancy mansion with people twice his age. He’s been homeschooled for two years and thank God you train him or else he’d be so flabby he’d make the Blob jealous.” Clint flips a pancake perfectly. “This could be good for him. Living independently from his family for awhile.”
Natasha smiles. “And that has been the end of ‘Clint-isms’ for the day.”
Blaine shakes his head. “I don’t know how you manage to only make sense when you bake.”
Dad runs his hands through his hair multiple times before he twitches, grabbing for his coffee and taking a gulp. He’s slamming the mug on the countertop as he says, “Fine. But I’m not talking to Amanda.”
Blaine shot from his seat and hugged his Dad tight.