“Ma told me you stopped by earlier looking for me. Sorry about that, I was, ya know — Doing some chores and shit.” She’d warned him from over the fence to stop sending people her way ; Eventually his inability to come to the door would be unexplainable, and people will ask questions. But it was too late for that. All he could do was steer Blaine away from his mother’s house. “She’s a real stickler for me finishing that stuff before I get to go do anything.” He forced in a smile, dropping himself down onto his friend’s mattress. “That and she doesn’t like people in the house. I don’t know why, paranoid I guess.”
The idea that Tate’s mother was paranoid to have people in her house when Tate made sure to warn him that she had a very bad case of sticky fingers was not only ironic but vaguely insulting. But the way she spoke when he was at the door? It felt like she was nervous. Like she’d rather have anyone but him standing there asking to see her son. Had he done something to offend her when she visited? He had no idea and she didn’t give him any window of opportunity to ask either. To say he left the doorstep confused was an understatement. Tate was here, though and Blaine was doing his best to let the whole situation go. Plopping beside him, he folded his legs up onto the bed, ankles crossed together and curled his fingers around them. “It’s okay. You’re in the clear now, right? I mean. You can stay for a while, yeah? My parents are out of town and I’m still not used to this place yet. Feels way too quiet at night.. Mostly.”
Santana wouldn’t be opposed to sharing a home with Blaine at all, actually. She imagined their transition into being each other’s only roommates would be a lot smoother than hers was with Rachel and Kurt. She would never have admitted out loud, but she extremely LEFT OUT and alone when she first moved to the city, despite having two roommates. Rachel and Kurt were like a couple in their own right, and she felt like a third wheel for a lot of the time. It WAS NOT a pleasant feeling. As uncomfortable as their living situation was, Santana enjoyed having more people around who she could spend time with and almost relate to a little bit more, Blaine being one of those people. “Don’t tell anybody.” A smile crept on to her lips before she took a long, slow sip from her steaming coffee mug. Santana raised her eyebrows in surprise a Blaine’s question. She didn’t expect him to actually consider her half joking offer, but now that she began to think about it, she quite liked the idea. “Wow, you’d actually ditch Hummel? Are things that… Is everything okay with you two, seriously? I mean, I’d have no problem breaking the news, you can just sit back and RELAX. It’d sure as hell be a lot better than what we’ve got going on now. I need a bed. The amount of times I’ve been tempted to go and spoon Rachel is.. DISGUSTING.”
Blaine leaned close enough to bonk the sides of their shoulders together. A conspiratory grin tugging one corner of his lips up. “Not a word. I promise.” Then sighing, he deflated back into the cushions and chewed the inside of his bottom lip as he thought of every scenario under the moon that might happen if he approached the subject. The news could go several different ways. Hoping for the turnout where he and Kurt could have proper alone time with one of them having an actual room–Blaine blinked at the question that cut his mulling into an immediate halt. “No things aren’t that.. Yes. Everything’s okay. We’re just..in a rough patch. Mostly from the overcrowding, I’m sure. We haven’t been able to just be each other since I moved here. You know?” Scrambling to erase the notion out of her head that she should be the one to break the news, a hand came to rest on her forearm and he gave it a gentle and reassuring squeeze. “I’ve got it. No need for that. I don’t think he’d appreciate secondhand talk about something as serious as me moving out. If we’re serious about this. Are we?” Santana and Rachel spooning? The image was enough to make him laugh in spite of the seriousness of their conversation. A half-hearted smile lingered as he reached for the mug of tea he made for himself earlier. “Disgusting? Hey. I have it on official knowledge that Rachel is a great snuggler. It’s not that gross!”
“Oh, mais ça n’a pas l’air si bon.” Jason commented, looking down at the pinkey. “Looks like it is not in good shape.” he explained, looking up at Blaine with a worried expression on his face. “He may not like loosing to a gay man but he still lost, otherwise you’d be in much worse condition. Been there, done that. And I’m bisexual.” he sighed. “And that was long before I started working with the FBI. Oh, I work with the FBI by the way. Civilian consultant. Linguistics. I speak fourteen languages and none of them are Brute. You shouldn’t have to deal with that. How old are you? Twenty five? At most?” Jason was bad with ages so he couldn’t say for sure.
All that French reminded Blaine of a certain someone he hadn’t seen in years. Not a bad memory, no. Just one that made him realize that maybe he should pick up the phone and call to say hello. Check to make sure his old friend was doing well and what his life was like now. Thinking of that should’ve helped with a distraction. Nope. Blaine’s resolve not to admit to how bad that hurt faltered just long enough for a cringe to escape when he flexed his fingers in defiance of it ‘not being in good shape’. “Might’ve jammed it up a little,” his mumble was aimed at his hand even though his gaze darted up to meet Jason’s before his attention was pulled back to the finger in question. “I think I have something in my bag I can take. I’ll get it checked out in the morning if it’s worse. Promise.”
The longer he listened to the stranger telling him a bit about himself, the more curious he got. Blaine even huffed at the irony in just admitting to an FBI Agent that he was in a fist fight where he might’ve done more damage than the other guy. That’d be his luck. Blaine waited until Jason was finished before giving him an understanding smirk. “Been there, done that? Sorry you went through it. No one should have to. This wasn’t the first time for me. Who knows if it’ll be the last? I’m twenty four. Good guess. My birthday’s in a little over a week. You were almost spot on.” Must have been a lucky night for Jason coming that close! “I’m probably taking up way too much of your time for this. I apologize. You didn’t have to help but you did. So. Thanks.”
“The NIGHTSTAND.” Elliott spoke it in a tone meant to reference – something eerily like the infamous ‘LIVING ROOM ROUTINE’ From Perks of being a wallflower; not that he EXPECTED Blaine to understand it of course, but it was something enough to cause him great entertainment.
Elliott’s grin never left his face as they kissed, the hand not occupied with rubbing gentle circles on Blaine’s hip moving to his face, cupping his jaw with the same fondess he’d held upon walking into the bathroom moments before.
Blaine just…did something to him. Elliott was fairly easy to entertain, someone to smile as babies and kittens and finding a pen, neat notes and good songs on the radio. But when it was Blaine, it went beyond finding joy in little things. It was finding joy simply in something – SOMEONE – existing, and that was…a lot to adjust to, in all the right ways.
“No no no, wait -” He didn’t let Blaine take another step towards the bedroom, crowding him back against the bathroom wall a little – and resisting the urge to do something RISQUE like shoving his hand places he found pretty darn tempting.
“I wish you didn’t gel your hair back before bed babe – it’s so POINTLESS. Besides, the curls are CUTE.”
Elliott’s hand on his hip shifted his center of gravity in one spinning, fell swoop that Blaine would be hard pressed to describe it as anything but delightful. The sensation made his skin erupt in goosebumps hidden by the elastic waistband of his grey and blue plaid pajama bottoms and the white cotton undershirt he’d tugged over his head moments before Elliott called out his name. Even the slightest touch from Elliott could elicit that reaction.
Blaine rushed to gain control over his pounding pulse and the images that popped into his head. A task easier said than done when a kiss like that one was tossed into the mix. Way easier said than done, actually.
His suggestion to go search in the bedroom abruptly ended as Elliott cornered him against the wall. Blaine let himself relax back against the coolness of the tile. A welcome contrast across his shoulders and the back of his neck to how his skin was heating up. “Okay..,” he whispered not moving an inch just yet.
Lips parted to steal in a breath then pressed together with an embarrassed smile. “I only put in a little bit.. Otherwise? You’re going to wake up with me looking like..well. It’s a tangled mess of hair, okay? Nowhere close to cute,” he scrunched up his nose, “Not even a little bit.”
❛ blaine , your vocals are killer . we have to collab some time . ❜ black boots slowed once she reached his side , back pack slung across her back . ❛ our voices together would be amazing . plus i can add some beats to the back with my keyboard , what do you say ? ❜
Hearing his name, Blaine came to a stop and glanced over his shoulder as Valerie approached. A brow shot up in question but upon receiving a compliment? Warmth spread across his cheeks and an ear to ear smile made his eyes crinkle at their corners. “Thank you. That means a lot.” Long fingers curled around the leather strap of his satchel resting on his shoulder as he jumped at the chance to take her up on her offer. “Seriously? Yeah! We should do that. Whenever you want. Pick the time and I’m there.”
Santana wasn’t an idiot. She knew exactly what the issue was, and it was a problem that she actually shared. Overcrowding. She never thought she would miss the days when she was only being mildly annoyed by Rachel and Kurt, instead of half of the New Directions. “There’s way too many people up in here. Even if we all had two apartments it would still be hell, and I don’t know which team I’d like to go for. God knows if Britt and I were together I wouldn’t drag her into the Misfit Brady Bunch we’ve got going on. You need your own place, then you can get down and dirty as much as you like. Until then, I’d suggest our local, Bushwick sex shop. Or, if you need a break from Lady Hummel, get a place with me. You’re pretty up there on my people I can tolerate list, so I wouldn’t hate it.”
Leave it to Santana to drop advice in his lap that felt like both a slap to the back of his head and a glimmer of hope. No. They didn’t need a trip to the sex shop. What they needed was room. That was a start. However. Breaching the subject with his fiance’ was more intimidating than it should be. Therein lies the root of his mood Blaine did his best to skim past. Pretending the lack of private time was his only concern? Seemed a hell of a lot easier to deal with than the revolving door of issues Blaine felt like he was watching fill up without any clue how to empty it. Jumping onto the glimmer of hope part of their talk, Blaine’s pout turned into a warm smile. “Wow. I am,” he lightly teased with the question. “I’m honored.” A place with Santana? The idea of not running into four people before he could get a shower felt like a far away memory he left back in Ohio. One he missed more and more each morning. Appealing as it was, he bit his lip and let a heavy exhale out of his nose that could only be read as hesitation. “Any suggestions on how to bring this up? I mean. If we were going to actually do it..?”
[ text ;; blaine ] That sounds…depressing? [ text ;; blaine ] Why don´t we go somewhere together? [ text ;; blaine ] Go see a show and get dinner?
( mssg » rachel | sent ) Why does it have to be depressing? ( mssg » rachel | sent )
Maybe this is a good thing! At least I’m getting out.. ( mssg » rachel | sent ) Fine! Okay. I’m not convincing you or myself with that excuse. This whole idea of moving on and getting out there just hasn’t settled in yet. I’m trying. ( mssg » rachel | sent ) Oh god, yes. Let’s go see something. Anything. Dinner, too. ( mssg » rachel | sent ) Thank you, Rachel. I’ve been going crazy staring at the walls.
BOLD which habits your muse has ITALICISE occasional or verse dependent
nail biting | throat clearing | lying | interrupting | chewing the ends of pens | smoking | swearing | knuckle cracking | thumb sucking | muttering under their breath | talking to themselves | nose picking | binge drinking | oversleeping | snacking between meals | skipping meals | picking at skin | impulse buying | talking with their mouth full | humming/singing to themselves | chewing gum | leg jiggling | foot tapping | hair twirling | whistling | eye rolling | licking lips | sniffing | squinting | rubbing hands together | jaw clenching |gesturing while talking | putting feet up on tables | tucking hair behind ears | chewing lips | crossing arms over chest | putting hands on hips | rubbing the back of their neck | being late | procrastinating | doodling | shredding paper | peeling off bottle labels | forgetfulness | running hands through hair | overreacting | teeth grinding | nostril flaring | slouching | pacing | drumming fingers | fist clenching | pinching bridge of nose | rubbing temples | rolling shoulders
repost, don’t reblog
Tagged by: @pssycatted (stolen from cause i ❤ these. and, also, hi!)
Will looked at him. “I am not giving up hope. There is hope in here.” He told Blaine. “I am just not letting it build up too much because that is going to make it so much harder if it doesn’t work out.” Will said. He watched as Blaine looked over towards Sam. He could tell they were all hurt.
Will felt Blaine squeeze his arm and looked back at him. “I know we need this. Believe me, I need this.” He said. Will did. Only a year ago, he was thinking about handing the role of Glee club director to Finn, so he could take a step back and do other stuff for the arts and know that the New Directions were in safe hands. But things changed and he realized that he really did need New Directions and this Glee club to keep going. “I’m not giving up.”
Blaine seemed to be hinging upon what Will would say next. His hands curled into tightly held fists that were shoved into his pockets and his breathing stopped until he heard the answer. Then a deep one puffed out his chest and made most of his features relax. All but the weary, tired caution in his usually bright eyes. “Thank you. We’ll work together. You know what we’re like when we put our minds to something. It gets done. Right?”
Even if they didn’t win. They got here. That says something, doesn’t it? Blaine tried to believe the words he’d said. Tried. Actually buying into them one hundred percent was a little harder than he thought. However, that was for him to battle with alone. Helping Will help the others stop crying? That was more important than what he felt for now. It could catch up to him later. “We should take them out to dinner. I’ll ask. Somewhere nice. My treat. They need to know it’s not over. It’s up to you and me to prove it..” I need you to help me.
pianokeysandbowties 