Annaleigh’s body language went rigid at the feeling of the other teen touching her. She wasn’t used to being touched by others in that manner, so the sudden movement had startled her. She shoved his arm away harshly once they were away from the texting teen. “Don’t touch me,” she snapped. Her body language slowly became less tense and once she calmed down, she choose to answer his question. “If I’m being honest, it’s a lot different than what I’m used to,” she commented as she walked along side the other.
Blaine caught onto her stiffening up a step away from her shoving his hand off and snapping. His heart felt like jammed itself into his throat while his stomach bottomed out to a tangled mess inside the soles of his shoes. The shock on his face drained the olive tones of his skin a few shades paler and his fingers twitched in the air making sure she knew he wouldn’t repeat the error before he slowly lowered his hand to–well–probably best to shove it into his pocket.
“I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to–I only wanted–I wasn’t thinking.” How about three sentences in one? “People have a habit of slamming right into or clipping you because phones and walking can be difficult. I’m just..sorry.” Holding onto his bag with his free hand, he picked up the lead after a moment’s hesitation. “I promise it gets easier.. Adjusting, I mean.” He never fully returned to how easily he smiled, his posture and tone more carefully cautious than any previous lightness. As soon as they were within three rooms near the office, he stopped and pointed towards the glass door. “Here we are. The one with the glass walls is your stop.”
( sms : blaine ) Apparently my very drunk boyfriend. ( sms : blaine ) I… can’t say I’m not tempted. ( sms : blaine ) Something tells me you’re talking about something a lot more strong than just the few odd wine coolers.
( mssg » kurt | sent ) Correcrt! ( mssg » kurt | sent ) i reallY love when ytou call me your boyfriend. ( mssg » kurt | sent )
im’ so glas I get to be that. thanky ou for giving em the chance. ( mssg » kurt | sent ) Waht do I have to do to make you give in and come see us ro me. ( mssg » kurt | sent )
..mainyl me? ( mssg » kurt | sent ) Oh yeahj. wedont drink wine coolers. ( mssg » kurt | sent )
This stuff that tastes good,. not like cough syrup.
// Animals should live forever. RIP my little man Yuki. Almost a decade and a half together living in three timezones and several states. Kinda crazy when I think about it. He was a good boy. I’m gonna miss him. Here off and on for some distractions.
Sam’s lips were warm and soft. The kiss was a gentle plea that begged Blaine to stay.
How fall could look so beautifully different from one state to another, especially when those states weren’t very big, was something that if Blaine had come here with Sam six months ago? Would have captivated the former Warbler and had him falling in love with his favorite season all over again. The smell of leaves, crisp air and campfire smoke should’ve lured anyone who remotely enjoyed autumn (and Blaine was far past that level of adoration) into sheer bliss ferried there on the wings of a symphony of crickets or on the backs of bouncing bullfrogs ribbiting their way to points unknown. Sparks danced up inside the heatwaves of their campfire, twisting like blazing fireflies towards the starry blanket of blue black above their heads. Blaine Six Months Ago would have been in heaven. God. Blaine Six Weeks Ago would have, too.
Blaine Tonight? Well, he wasn’t sure when nudging one of the logs with their iron poker and sending cinders spiraling up, higher and higher had gone from appreciating the warmth that flooded over his face to..this. Somewhere between calling up to Sam with a ‘Yeah! Wow! How many is that again–?’ and watching something burning into nothing but ashes (just like Erased People, like him)–everything began to slip away. The world went dark and all he felt was that God awful clawing at his throat. By now, whatever caused that feeling, should have a face to warn him when it was coming. Because it hurt and it was drowning or suffocating or both depending and always tasted like copper and gross blended together.
“Sam..,” but his voice was disconnected and he wasn’t sure if it made a sound at all.
Then the fire was shadowed by a towering figure that soon dropped down onto his knees and cupped his cheeks, had Blaine wondering how someone could have such big hands and deciding he was infinitely grateful that Sam did because they pulled him back to the planet, back to reality, back to Sam so many times they needed to be big because anything smaller wouldn’t be able to catch him this many times without letting him go already. He didn’t realize he was crying until Sam was using his thumbs to dry his face. Blaine tuned in then. Completely and wholly staring into Sam’s eyes trying to read them deep enough to find words the blond might need to hear so he would be comforted and know he was making a difference even if it didn’t seem that way.
Okay. It was going to be okay. Sam was making his promises again and Blaine never had the heart to tell him differently. So? Instead of talking, he wrapped his fingers around Sam’s wrists and gave him a reassuring squeeze. It was easier to lie with a touch. Made it, somehow, less of a verbal contract like the one Sam made him promise the first night. One that if he betrayed, wouldn’t be on Sam’s life as his best friend dramatically put it.
Sam’s lips were warm and soft. The kiss was a gentle plea that begged Blaine to stay. To trust him and to know that he was loved. Blaine had watched him draw in near, felt his heart and time come to a standstill when he realized what was coming. The initial shock drew in a sharp gasp through his nose and his grip only tightened, holding Sam’s palms against his cheeks. His red brimmed eyes went round before slamming shut and there was a moment where Blaine froze as his mind rushed to catch up with what was going on. Something stirred in him, the need for Sam to believe him. The desperation that someone would keep him finally broke free with the promise that Sam would was soon pressed against his mouth in return. His gravity went upside down and his heart must’ve leapt to his throat this was real and solid and..
Sam’s lips were warm and soft. The kiss was a a tender plea that begged Sam to believe that he would.
— hey, Blaine. Look at me.” Four days. That’s how long it took Sam Evans to crumble. It’s not even that he just knew Blaine was hurting. He’d seen it in every aspect of everything he did. There was no light, even when Blaine was ‘having a good time, honestly Sam’ he saw right through it. And yeah, Sam didn’t blame him. He knew why. Having Kurt completely wipe it all away, like his life was this super luxury roll’s royce, and like Blaine was nothing more than a bug that just splattered against his windshield. One wipe, boom. Problem gone. Even if they’d been traveling all around the world together on that wind sh… Yeah no, that was a really bad analogy but Blaine was more than that. Blaine was the best guy he’d ever known. His best friend. Seeing him go through this? IT WAS KILLING HIM. He didn’t deserve it.
This wasn’t a BLAINE thing, it was a Kurt thing and Sam hadn’t figured out how to put that into words Blaine would understand. He’d tried, but no matter how many times Blaine tried to explain it, their ideas didn’t gel. Which sucked because ALL THEIR IDEAS GELLED. Blaine’s thing was gel, if anyone were to gel, it was them. BLAM.
But Kurt had fucked up. Blaine had too, but the reality was … Kurt ran. He let go with no disregard. And maybe it wasn’t fair, maybe Sam was looking at it from an angle that was biased towards one, but he loved Kurt, so was he really? It was all just … SO MESSED UP. They were spiraling and there were no parachutes. At this point, Sam would have done anything to take away his pain. And there had been one thing he hadn’t done yet because it didn’t seem like the right time. Didn’t seem like a good moment. Didn’t seem sensitive at all given the situation.
Blaine was just … wired. In this way. Deep down? He understood it.
What if he could just … Make Blaine see that it wasn’t just Kurt out there that made life worth living? That people could love him.
Sam’s hands were so big they pretty much took up most of Blaine’s face as he tried to pull him back down to Earth, cupping softly at his cheeks. They were deep in Pennsylvania, the wicked wilderness surrounding them. Bullfrogs and crickets, owls and coyotes teaming up with the October breeze that pretty much swept through them both like a wave of ice when the camper didn’t block it out.
Life had gotten too heavy. The fire crackled behind him and he could feel it heating the rubber soles of his runners, but not enough to make him worry yet. The blonde was knelt down on one knee in front of Blaine
— or the body formally known as Blaine because Blaine wasn’t in there anymore and it was killing him. The stars were so bright tonight
— the fire had died down, and really even if you walked ten feet away you could look up and instantly lose your breath at the sight. Something Sam hadn’t missed a single moment doing. The Universe had done a pretty cool thing for once and offered a meteor shower and every two minutes it was ‘Blaine! Did you see it’? amid the rolling conversation that hadn’t stopped for a week.
He hadn’t let Blaine out of his sight, and he was trying so hard to keep him here. The world needed Blaine Anderson, even if he thought it’d be better without him. It had come back to him in a wave, it was something about Kurt, he didn’t have to ask because the tears streaming down his face said it all. His thumbs swiped along the gentle ridge as he shook his head. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” Fires were great, except there was something about the cackling wood and mesmerizing lick of the flames, sparks shooting up over glowing goals that was … It made you think. It sucked you in. And camping was great and he loved it, being there with Blaine, but the world was quiet. And even with everything they were doing … He worried it wasn’t helping Blaine and … that was the point of this. All of it. Not even making him feel better … just feel human, like he existed and meant everything to someone.
Which is why wordlessly, with no awkwardness, no hesitation, Sam was leaning forward, plump lips caressing Blaine’s in what was possibly the most gentle kiss in the world. Hugs weren’t helping, so it was time to try this. He’d be whatever Blaine needed.Now? Forever? Whatever as long as it took, he was here. He’d always be there. And Blaine wasn’t allowed to go anywhere.
( sms : blaine ) I’m glad I was able to leave an impression. ( sms : blaine ) Since when does one Blaine Warbler require a stage to put on a performance? ( sms : blaine ) Unless you’d much rather reschedule for Monday after class. ( sms : blaine ) I figured we could get brunch.
( mssg » kurt | sent ) lLike since never. come onwho do you think you are tlking to?? ( mssg » kurt | sent ) no! I don’t want to reschedule fror Monday after calss. Not ( mssg » kurt | sent )
when I justsaid I think you should come say hi tonight?? ( mssg » kurt | sent ) Brunch is yes. Judging by how this drinkd smells? Im gonna need food. ( mssg » kurt | sent ) Your’e the best Kurt. I mean it. The b est.
“I like to think that nobody is beyond help.” It was a thought that kept him going after the terrible things that Ben had said to him ; Tate couldn’t be angry though. He ruined that family. You’re a psychopath, Tate! It’s a mental disorder and therapy can’t cure it! The blond suddenly seemed very uncomfortable with the topic. Fidgeting so much that he nudged Blaine from his shoulder and stood up. “Yeah — Yeah, I uh, I like to think that with the right people and stuff … Everyone can get better.” He could get better. Tate paced anxiously, the sleeve of his sweater coming up near his mouth as a nervous tick. “I think the problem is demonization. The media focuses on uh, how and when? And what about their crimes rather than why. When you get told that you’re a monster so many times, you start to believe it, ya know? And why try getting better if people are always going to see you as a monster.” Tate had to take a deep breath. Stop making this so personal, because Blaine was a smart boy. He was going to start wondering and asking questions. His hands raked back and forth a little too roughly in unruly blond hair before he went to settle back down on the sofa’s arm. “Nobody believes in redemption anymore. In forgiveness. And it’s really sad, you know? It’s really sad.”
“I’d like to think so, myself. I mean.. Writing off another human being is cruel. There’s a person with a heart in there. I agree with you but sometimes I wonder..” He watched Tate closely, his gaze momentarily shifting to Tate’s fingers before making eye contact again. “Do you think that some things people do can take that away? Or make people hate them enough for what they’ve done because it’s so beyond our capacity to forgive that that’s why they’re forgotten? There has to be some hope if other places focus on rehabilitating the worst of their offenders? Maybe it’s just an American thing?” Their country seemed far too apt to lock anyone away forever verses trying to help them move past their crimes. But? Which crimes were so unforgivable that there was no coming back? Regardless of mental health or lack of soul or whatever anyone else’s opinion was. What made a person truly irredeemable and who was the one to draw the line? “I think the root problem should be considered for each person. If they’re sick? It’s horrible to turn the other way. Monsters are supposed to be fairy tale villains meant to scare us or teach us a lesson. I don’t think it’s fair to run around saying they don’t exist while turning everyone we don’t understand into one. Sort of hypocritical. Don’t you think?” Or.. Was this conversation getting too upsetting? Maybe they should go back to talking about human belts and lampshades? Blaine bit his lip and pondered his options.
“Oh? Were you?” He teased, pulling his husband closer and ducking his head to press a kiss to his lips, “I couldn’t tell. You hold your alcohol really well.” He added, his face serious but only for a split second before he grinned again and gave Blaine’s hip a squeeze. “And what, pray tell, were you drinking to last night without me?” He pouted, still playful in tone and intent, “I go out of town for one night and party all night without me, huh? Is that how it is, Mr. Anderson-Clarington?”
“I was. Very much.” Blaine hummed as Hunter pulled him close enough that he could wrap his arms around his husband’s shoulders. Hunter ducked his head and in anticipation for the kiss that he saw written all over Hunter’s face coming at him? His heels lifted and he met him halfway. Expression serious or not? They both knew him holding his liquor in any shape well as a lie. The sound of almost laughter quipped into a hard swallow thanks to the squeeze. A deep breath through his nose later, he mused right back. “After performance dinner. I guess we were drinking to a good show? If you weren’t forced to leave because of work,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes playfully, “You would’ve been there.” Squinting, he inched close and pressed a chaste, quick kiss to Hunter’s mouth. A tease and nothing more. “All your fault you missed it.”
glory or wisdom ? love or power ? violin or piano ? fire or water ? air or earth ? forest or river ? black or white ? left or right ? heads or tails ? theatre or cinema ? give or take ? dawn or dusk ? gold or silver ? art or music ? morning or night ? venus or mercury ?
pianokeysandbowties 