elliott.

Elliott smiled right back at Blaine, looking down at him and entwining their fingers. He just felt so lucky right now, to have Blaine in his life and like this – it was…well, it was just perfect. 

“I…Yeah, I suppose.” Elliott was clearly still struggling with accepting that idea, he hated how similar the feeling was to being that closeted teen, or that boyfriend people were disappointing to say they were dating, or that guy people laughed at, or – NO. 

Elliott took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down before his thoughts got out of hand, pressing his cheek against the top of Blaine’s head for a moment, grounding himself. 

“Yeah. Yeah, we do.” 

“Yeah..”  Dragging the tips of his fingers back and forth over the back of Elliott’s hand that he held, Blaine smiled and let a soft of calm quiet settle between them.  It was a nice break from the instant worry that the kiss they shared earlier seemed to throw Elliott into.  

He didn’t mean for something that was supposed to feel good, something that just happened because they’d been lured into one another, to turn into a pathway to fret over every detail of the future.  

Blaine spent years thinking about the FUTURE.  When so much of it went wrong so fast that he was still trying to get the last of the ache from whiplash to go away.  All he wanted to do was think about the now.  As strange as it felt for him after so long of not, this–THIS was nice.

Closing his eyes as he felt Elliott’s cheek against the top of his head, his caress disappeared only to dance along blindly along Elliott’s neck letting that silence linger until he interrupted it softly, “So.  How about dinner in?  I can order food and we can watch mind numbing movies?”

barry.

( mssg » blaine | sent ) That’s as good of a confirmation as any, consider me on my way. 

                         Barry’s bright grin of charmed amusement ( the kind of smile Blaine Anderson hardly ever failed to inspire ) soon turned into a pursed expression of impatience as he glanced up at the clock high up on the wall. His leg bounced on the ball of his foot as he watched seconds drag by painfully slow, waiting for them to turn to minutes, and waiting for those to turn into the appropriate amount of time it would take someone ( not a person who had been blessed with superhuman superspeed ) to make their way over.

( mssg » barry | sent ) Perfect!  I’m glad we’ve come to this conclusion!  
( mssg » barry | sent ) I’ll see you soon.

      Blaine used the time between Barry and his round of riddles that ended in a promise he’d see him tonight and the other showing up to tidy his apartment and put out a bottle of wine and two glasses.  Were the candles he lit on the mantle of his fireplace and the zinfandel too much?  Maybe.  He stood in the center of the living room, fists on his hips glancing over the place.  Teeth worried at his bottom lip as nervous excitement danced in his veins.  A sensation that was one part dizzy and one part grin inducing happy.

Hearing the knock on the door, the musician blinked and hurried over.  Barry was greeted with a bright smile and hazel eyes dancing with that nervous energy that made them all the more bright.  “Hi,” he circled back less pitched this time but the heat on his cheeks when he noticed his tone made them pink. “I mean–hey.  Come in?  Please?” Then remembered to step aside so he could.

seesgood:

okay but i feel like there need to be more make-out sessions in rp? like it seems like it’s either smut smut or kissing, but come on guys. make outs. like just super slow, sensual, making out with wandering hands and fingers getting lost in hair and slowly grinding in someones lap. sleepy make outs where they’re still tired from the night before, steamy make outs in locker rooms or in dark corners. make outs that lead to smutty things or make outs that don’t. exploratory make outs or slow make outs or frantic make outs just COME ON YOU GUYS WHY IS THERE NOT MORE MAKING OUT 

kurt.

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          ❝ It’s definitely pretty exclusive.” Kurt admitted, somewhat amused by the Warbler’s apparently still going fascination with their resident booth yet also partially glad for the additional distraction as he absentmindedly reached for one of the breadsticks now standing at the edge of their table. “Not that I’m about to let you in on all of our secrets. Even if I guess that would ultimately make up for all that shameless spying up on The Warblers.” Almost feeling guilty about his former actions, he threw Blaine an apologetic smile before allowing the waitress to take up the rest of their order.           

          “I probably shouldn’t be so surprised,” he continued, his eyes briefly left to linger on the red and blue emblem of Blaine’s Warbler uniform before furthering the conversation. “I mean, you do kind of go to an all private school.” The more they discussed Blaine’s experiences at Dalton, the more envious he got about being forced to deal with McKinley in comparison. 

Sure, being a part of his high school glee club made at least some of his dreaded school hours at least somewhat worth while and semi-tolerable, but once those crucial moments of the day inevitably ended, he really preferred to spend its final remaining hours mostly in solitude; occasionally taking on the additional administrative shift at Hummel Tire & Lube and most definitely forever counting down the days until his eventual graduation as he tried not too bother his friends with any of his high school problems. 

          “I guess I kind of prefer to stay in,” Kurt finally answered a little more quiet, almost too embarrassed to even admit that this was what his life had come to— hiding out in the comforts of his own home and bedroom until high school had finally blown over. 

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      After watching the waitress walk off with their orders–Blaine turned his attention back to Kurt while taking a sip from his straw.  He swallowed the drink down and shrugged.  “It used to be something my whole family did.  We don’t do it that often anymore,” not after Cooper left but he wasn’t going to bring up his brother or lack of a family life once the eldest Anderson left the nest and it was only him and his parents (well..sometimes his parents).  The topic really didn’t have any room in the conversation.  And it wasn’t important enough to bring up.  Not exactly.  “I still love it, though, so I sort of took over the boat as mine when it gets warmer.”

Another thoughtful wrinkle appeared between his brows noticing Kurt’s voice drop as he said he prefered solitude and staying home.  Blaine knew that look.  Knew why it was there.  There was a time when he mirrored it when no one was looking.  Before Dalton.  They both covered it up, too.  Just like Kurt, he only had one person who saw how deep that forced seclusion felt.  He countered it by trying to exude the energy that it didn’t bother him.  No matter how much it did. 

Frankly, the efforts were exhausting.  Blaine’s end from the loneliness came abruptly and not of his own choosing.  Kurt looked beyond the point he was before his violent end at Central Westerville.  Blaine wanted to FIX IT.  Stop it from happening.  See Kurt happy.  All of it.  His happiness was worth fighting for. In turn, maybe that reflection of himself might be healed from what lingered inside of the flesh and bones version in his quieter moments.

“Well,” he spoke softly and slid one hand across the table to gently touch Kurt’s wrist, bending closer naturally as he squeezed gently.  “That’s just not going to do anymore.  Look.  You’re out with me and I think that’s progress.  We should stay out tonight.  Onlyif it’s taking a walk.  What do you think?  Until we find something to do.  I’ve got the time if you have it.”

quinn.

                    ❝   They ALL look like someone. It’s a part of being the undead.   ❞

                    She’s grown too used to the sight of CORPSES lying around by now. They aren’t human in her eyes anymore, and haven’t been since Heaven knows how long. Has managed to detach herself of emotion when it comes to looking at them because what else is she supposed to do ?  She’s a regular FIGHTER; goes out every week or two with her team to pick through the  d e b r i s  and decaying buildings to find something useful, and bringing something as feeble as FEELINGS into it is … messy.

                    Of course, Quinn  u s e d  to care. Remembers the FIRST creature she had killed ——— the sound of its skull caving in and the feeling of KNOWING that it had once been properly, fully alive. Once upon a time, it too, had breathed. It had loved and cared for others, and she’d killed it with an old bat she’d found in someone’s basement. Had to be consoled for at least an hour before she could keep going, and that was only because they were SURE they were being followed. Then, when the whole thing with Finn had happened, she’d learned to keep empathy out of it. Caring wasn’t worth the pain.

                    ❝   Come on, we’ll leave through the back exit. There could be something we NEED in the kitchen, and we don’t want to miss that,   ❞      she instructs with the words and mind of a calculated leader.      ❝   You take up the front, and I’ll take up the back and make sure that that THING’S definitely dead. Just keep walking, okay ?  I’m right behind you.  

❞

      “She looks like my mom..  I don’t even know if she made it or not..”

Blaine walks as he’s told without giving any sort of verbal confirmation that he understood what she was telling him.  Moving was more than enough.  Eyes glued to the person thing on the floor until he had to step around to continue on.  His blood ran cold, fingers that weren’t holding the grip of his gun with a white knuckled tightness balled into a fist at his side. 

“I’m sorry.  I’m good now.  Promise.”  

Quinn’s detachment was something someone like him who lacked it envied. The world would be so much easier to take if he could look at it as all a means to an end that didn’t matter what route you took through a sea of bodies and death as long as he came out on the other side okay.  Maybe someday.  He was trying.  Just wasn’t there yet.  Steps that felt ten times heavier than any he’s ever taken carry him towards the back.  Most important, the kitchen.

“Let’s just get what we need and get out of here,” he squints stopping by the next wall and holding his breath as he steps far enough to glance around it.  Noise, repetitive and quick that only he seems to be able to hear.  A rapid gush of an echoing wet in his eardrums, heart pounding and blood rushing fast.  CLEAR.  “I think that might’ve been the only one..”  Oh God, he hoped so.. A quick, sharp glance over his shoulder checked to see if she was there.  Of course she was.  Quinn was a person he trusted beyond trust.  That’s why he’s here with her, after all. “Was it dead?”  Please tell me it was dead.

enzo.

[Text-Piano man]: Honestly, when it comes to someone that I like I have to find out everything I can about them and you’re the one I want and I hope you know that. Is that a problem?  I promise I won’t do anything unless you want me to.

[Text Piano Man]: What if I told you that I’m right outside your house? It turns out that Plush is on tour in New York and well, I couldn’t stay away from you. I hope you don’t mind me showing up like this without asking. Honestly, I couldn’t help myself. I’m never good at staying away from someone I do like. I could leave if you wish. 

( mssg » rockstar | sent ) You do?  I mean..  I guess that’s what getting to know

( mssg » rockstar | sent ) Wait, sorry I didn’t finish that other text.  I was a little surprised by the second one.  Are you playing with me?  You’re outside my house?  I thought you were inviting me over..?

( mssg » rockstar | sent ) Sorry.  I’m shocked that you like me enough to find out where I live. Don’t leave.  We should have that late night chat, right?  I mean.  Um.  Sure.  I’m on my way down. Give me a minute.  I’ll be right there.

rachel.

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Rachel knew there was nothing to apologize for. Not
considering the situation they were in, and yet she felt like she had to
apologize, because Blaine was affected by this as much as she was and yet he
found the strength to somehow support her, and Kurt too.

Sometimes Rachel still couldn’t believe that Finn was gone.
They might not have been a couple, and maybe they wouldn’t have become one
again either, but they would have always had a special connection with each
other and it would have worked out one way or another.

That chance had been taken from them though and Rachel
couldn’t deal with that. She held onto Blaine tightly, sobbing into his
shoulder until it felt as if she had no more tears to spend. She sighed,
exhausting taking over as she slumped against him.

“Thank you…” She finally whispered, the answer to something
said minutes ago. “And…maybe.” She couldn’t promise that she´d get out of the
apartment. She had taken two weeks off NYADA, starting when they had all gone
back to Lima to celebrate Finn´s life, but one week was already done and when she
had returned to New York neither her nor Kurt had left the apartment.

Rachel sighed again, pulling back slightly, but still
holding on to Blaine. “Do you…want to make some tea?”

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Blaine was doing his best to hold it together for both their sakes and he thought he was doing a pretty good job of it until Rachel started to sob into his shoulder.  That’s when he couldn’t hold back. Tears beaded at the corners of shut eyes before they fell into the dark chestnut strands of hair he was nuzzled down into.

Keeping his breathing steady as possible, he traced circles between her shoulders with one hand.  Not letting go, not even for a beat, he cried with her as quietly as he could.  When she calmed and went still, her weight drew him out of it far enough that the tears came to an end. 

“You’re welcome,” his voice was uneven but he nodded taking what he could get as far as his idea that they should all go out.  “I’ll take a maybe.  A maybe is a lot better than a no.”

Closing his hands over both of hers and leaning back, Blaine rested her palms against his chest letting her feel the warmth there.  Thumbs ran back and forth over the edges of her palms. “Yeah.  I can do that,” a kiss was pressed to her forehead, “Wait here.”

The heels of his palms dug into the hollows of his eyes as he walked to the kitchen and fought the urge to cry the whole way there.  His pieces were glued together flimsily, no way would he be able to do it again before he had to go back to her.  Splashing water from the sink up to wash his face before filling the kettle and fixing their mugs just right, he pressed the button and waited. Agonizing minutes later, the kettle shut itself off and he returned to her side of the bed, speaking softly in case she fell asleep. “Tea’s ready..  You sure you don’t want a snack, too?”