FAMOUS LAST WORDS. At least when he was in this good of a mood; plus it being Blaine didn’t hurt either. Another LATE NIGHT conversation turned into a teasing ridiculous that had him laughing out clouds of smoke, coughing and shoving against Blaine with an impossible to hold grin that felt like a friendly shut the fuck up for the past two hours; if only so the seer in his throat and the ache in his lungs would stop because he kept being made to laugh unexpectedly. Blaine knew about far too much but he’d secretly collected it all through moments like this, spent under the stars, in his bed literally just talking, on the L, lost in a tangle throughout the city doing WHATEVER IT WAS they did. Which changed an awful lot, but he liked it.
WELL. IF BLAINE DARED HIM. “Sorry, Anderson.” Lip managed out, slipping down the windshield of a random car he’d deemed worthy to lay on for the past two hours. His feet met the hood and he stood up, turning back to look at him while his hands found the bottom of his shirt. RUTHLESSLY tugging it up over his head. It was at that point he whipped it over to Blaine in the flick of his arm, collectively covering his face for a second until it was tugged off. And by that point, Lip’s pants were already unbuckled and pooling around his shoes… Which he didn’t think through because … He was stepping out of his shoes and pants, nothing more than his socks and boxers, though they’d be slipped off momentarily. “Thing about that is, uh, kinda dare you to too.” Live a little, he egged; full well knowing that Blaine didn’t get up to much mischief stuck in Ohio. All said as he was stepping on the toes of his socks, pulling those off too because where he was going, he didn’t need socks.
“Last one back here gets’ta take my shift at Patsy’s tomorrow.” Oh he was fighting dirty, especially now that Sierra was icing him out for GHOSTING. Even though he’d just been busy. “How you feel about bein’ a dish rat?” If he didn’t feel good about it, he better get fucking moving because shamelessly, his boxers dropped and the stupid smirk on his face had cemented the wager. There was no room for an argument while he turned and jumped off the car and onto the sidewalk beneath the shadows of the trees. “You ever washed a dish in your life?” A teasing taunt to ensure he wasn’t in this alone. “Better hurry up unless you wanna bail me out.” But that was yelled over his shoulder as he was sprinting through the trees, Buckingham Fountain his targeted destination, though he was a ways off, which gave Blaine time to have a chance but only if he hurried the fuck up.
What, did Blaine really think streaking and a four am swim was out of the realm of possibility?
Oh! Oh no! Oh wait! This was bad! This was so bad! Like! Get them ARRESTED bad! A trend that hanging out with Lip seemed to be begging for it to happen at least once. And if his father back in Westerville (or wherever he was currently staying on business) got the ‘Your son needs bail money’ call in the wee hours of the morning? There would never be a moment in Blaine’s life where his achievements would erase that from happening. Never. Like. NEVER. What was he thinking when he blurted out something like that? Of course Lip would rise (or drop trou as it were) to the occasion! Careful what you wish for. Careful what you dare someone who lives life so fearlessly that it constantly walks the line of freedom in ways Blaine could never imagine were so attainable if you let go and what had to be some form of an undiagnosed psychosis of not giving a damn that was both admirable and terrifying.
“I didn’t mean! You can stop! You can TOTALLY stop!” Blaine slammed his hand over his mouth like he could wipe away the words he blurted out and make this all stop. His head bobbed with Lip’s movements as he started toeing off his shoes. The dare thrown back at him was about as expected (thus the supreme OH NO moment) as the pending sunrise but it still made Blaine’s hand rip from his mouth and wave around in the air like he could bat away the words with a swat or two of his hands. “I…!” The fountain felt like a way too close pool of cold damnation waiting for him to take a dive. There went Lip’s socks and the dare that was also a challenge for him to rise up, put his money where his mouth was and LIVE some hit him like a ton of bricks.
So did the threat that he’d have to work Lip’s shift tomorrow. There was no fuel that could fire his inner passion to suddenly strip down to his boxers in the middle of the night than the threat of slaving over a sink for an entire day. No one had ever seen Blaine Anderson strip down to next to nothing as fast as he did just then. His sweater went over his head, his undershirt hit the bench on the sidewalk not three feet from the car he tossed it at and fell off. No time to jump down and pick! Not when his belt was jingling as he unfastened it and his tight fitting chinos were tanked down toned legs and kicked off with his Sperry’s so bare feet were. His eyes briefly flared wide when Lip lost the boxers, too. He was, seriously, going for broke.
Bare ass shining in the moonlight–there went Lip Gallagher in all his glory..
With Blaine gaining speed–no pants, no boxers, nothing but his birthday suit and a hell of a fast pair of legs darting across the grassy patch in hopes of bypassing Lip out of sheer shock value as a cheat if he had to.
pianokeysandbowties 