“… Yeah. Let’s just… Cab.” Sebastian’s voice was rough as he tried to swallow it down and motioned outside with a short nod, press of lips, and that small commiserate pop of jaw that tugged his lips down of whenever he – if rarely – sourly admitted defeat. there was no victory against Blaine, there never had been. Sebastian was screwed the moment Blaine walked into that rehearsal room, or even before that, the moment someone said his name, Trent maybe, Blaine Anderson, and for a moment, an entire group of boys perked up, time slowed down, and faces lit up with an admiration that made him feel empty. He’d been hungry for more of Blaine, to fill that void ever since. Because as used as he’d been with people in awe of him, his whole life, no one had ever looked at him the way those boys looked like when talking about their ex leader, and at first it’d made Sebastian want them to. And then, after meeting Blaine, after getting WHY, it’d just made him wish, every day, that Blaine would know he was THERE. For more than five minutes, or a quick text.
This part was sickeningly easy, and maybe that was the worst of it. A hand fell on the small of Blaine’s back like breathing, a comfortable distance, enough to be friendly, and Sebastian quickly guided him outside, before they could gather anymore unwanted attention. A few more steps, a quick text to one of his on call cab drivers, and before he could think about it, one was parking in front of them. Sebastian opened the door for Blaine, second nature at this point really, and waited for him to go in before slipping in, himself, and giving the driver the right address. As the car took off, he was already booking them a room in his phone. And once he was done, he just stared at the screen, lost.
He felt numb.
When had he got here? It doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you. He wanted to laugh. Only it did. It did bother him. When Blaine had first come knocking on his door that night, Sebastian had thought the worst of it was knowing he’d finally chosen to cheat, and decided to do it with someone else, that he wasn’t even attracted enough to Sebastian for THAT. He’d been wrong. This was worse. Even if he didn’t fully understand why yet. He didn’t reach out. Didn’t try to touch, though he glanced at him, as the cab rolled through Westerville. His green eyes small with doubt, thin as his lips, and the skin between his thumb and curled forefinger. He pinched his nose and cleared his throat as the cab stopped. “We’re here.” He paused and looked at him. “You sure you wanna do this, killer?” He might not be sure what they were going to do, but he knew Blaine and he knew whatever they did, or didn’t do, Blaine would carry it with him for the rest of his fairytale life with Kurt. And as much as Sebastian hated the thought of their perfect marriage, he didn’t want the fault in it to be his, either.
Relief flooded in when Sebastian mentioned a cab. As short lived as it was bound to be given this entire, messed up situation–Blaine needed just a little more time. Just a little more selfishly begged for and reluctantly given time. He’d taken so much of Sebastian’s time already. Wasted it on friendship that maybe couldn’t last past the the things they did that Blaine promised himself wouldn’t ruin them. That they promised wouldn’t tear them down to nothing and it had. Hadn’t it? Looking at Sebastian’s profile, seeing the way he caved in defeat for something that he used to give so happily because being around one another as friends was better than being without each other period, was all the confirmation he needed. A blind man could see that much without barely a glance. They were ruined and if this was goodbye? There was no way in hell Blaine was going to say it in the middle of a coffee shop. Not like that. Never.
Being guided by Sebastian’s hand, Blaine followed where he was lead. Glad to be away from anyone listening or watching, hesitant eyes shifted their glare towards the cement and up to Sebastian’s mouth again. Was it still pulled tight? With the paper thin line between his lips and burrowed brows? Yeah. It was. What was horrible was that the looks that Blaine used to feel his soul come to life when he was given them were long gone now. Blaine couldn’t remember when the last time Sebastian looked at him so teasingly, so happily, and with that devil may cry charm mixed with just enough ot raunchy sarcasm that Blaine felt his head spin dizzy from excitement instead of starting to throb at the temples sharp enough that the leather and coffee smell inside the cab made him nauseated. Sure. Blame it on the smell. Another lie to believe. Like the one where Sebastian wasn’t doing this because he wasn’t wired to say no to him.
He felt sick.
Blaine didn’t do anything to break the silence during the ride. He’d gone from watching Sebastian to the color change of his fingertips as he dug the edge of his left thumbnail under the right like it was the most fascinating thing on the planet. A sharp gasp and Blaine jerked his head towards Sebastian. Surprised, round eyes blinked like he hadn’t realized the car came to a stop and they arrived until Sebastian spoke up. Killer. His bottom lip shoved itself against it’s match and he swallowed a golf ball sized lump in his throat. “Y-Yeah. Let’s go inside. Don’t have to stay long. I promise. I just need..,” clamping his mouth shut, his gaze shot towards the cabbie and then to Sebastian and he decided he’d wait until they had their room to say anything else. Judging by how wobbly his tone was? The former Warbler might need the break from talking anyway.
Santana settled herself on the couch in the loft beside Blaine, with two mugs of coffee in hand that she soon placed on the table. “What is up with you? Have you and Porcelain not been getting down and dirty lately? I thought I hadn’t heard your sweaty, man grunts through the curtain. As disgusting as you both are, you still need your stress relief, Katy.” Though maybe not going about asking in the best way, she was a little concerned about Blaine and how he seemed a little down lately. / @pianokeysandbowties + sc
Not having more than a half an hour without someone coming or going in the loft was starting to wear the couple thin in the patience and nerves departments. As a result? Blaine was getting a little more moodier than normal. By a little? Try a lot. But there was something underlying all of that truly digging into his patience. Because, as much as he liked to think of that as the only excuse? Their non-alone time was more frequent than he admitted to. Problem was? He had no idea how to bring any of it up. Not without sounding like a broken record. “Kurt and I are doing just fine in the bedroom, Santana.” Two beats after that lie, he deflated. Slouching and grunting down at his hands he rubbed together between his knees, Blaine pouted thoughtfully before mumbling. “I lied. We’re not. It’s more than that though. I’m just stuck on what to do.”
one of the best rp feelings in the world is when someone makes a tag for ur char/ship its like youve earned a little place with them and their portrayal of their character whether its an oc or canon and its so pure and good
( mssg » unique | sent) Because it would be rude to interrupt him when he’s talking. But if I don’t do something? ( mssg » unique | sent) I’m going to fall asleep. ( mssg » unique | sent) You were the person in the room who looked as bored as I am.
( mssg » unique | sent) How are you settling in at McKinley? Has anyone asked you that question yet?
❝What…??” He rose an eyebrow at the boy’s pause, though he could tell what he was thinking, and he showed it next. “I’d stop thinking you’re a good diversion?” He bit on his tongue. He wondered if in midst of it all, Blaine had ever really stopped to THINK about the WAYS in which Sebastian would always insult him. Was it really that bad when they were all about the hyper, sunshine, persona Blaine put forward, and when Sebastian actually enjoyed his truer, more ambitious, and less nicey-nice self? Maybe he just wanted to see what would happen if the boy stopped pretending, if he stopped LETTING people trample all over him, and took what he wanted with the weapons he already had, and the will he knew was in there somewhere, underneath the glasses and all the hair gel.
“Because your stupide American school thinks I’m an imbecile for not knowing all the details to American history? Because it’s too hard for them to comprehend that I might be able to answer complex physics and socioeconomic’s questions a whole damn better if they allowed me to study in French?” He shrugs. “Because they think I need nerd training, when all I really needed was extra time and a few additional French text books.” He notices Blaine’s fists mid-through his rambling and stops. “Are you going to hit me, Jiminy? Kindly avoid the nose, I’d rather not get a third surgery on it.” He wasn’t stupid, no matter what the dean thought, and he knew Blaine practiced boxing, and he’d never taken self defense classes in his life. He wasn’t afraid either, he’d been beaten too many times to care anymore, but he waited, to see what the other would do. And then… nothing.
He seemed to crumble, looking down, and then he was agreeing with Sebastian’s proposition, or order, for lack of a better word. He shot him a surprised glance, specially at the words that came next. “Join the club, charming.” He pointed out, saying Blaine wasn’t the only one that wanted out of this bizarre situation sooner, rather than later. Sebastian wasn’t used to needing ANY kind of tutoring and this was really exasperating to say the least.
As they started walking, he focused his attention ahead, one hand easily caught on the strap of his backpack, and the other swaying besides him with his step, finger contracting and relaxing like a rhythm, the colorful lights dancing on and out of his face. When Blaine finally spoke again he didn’t look, but his step got tenser for a moment, before he forced out a chuckle and spoke again. “I think that’s what you’d like to think you are. I think you waste whole lot of freaking time trying to get there.” He glances at him, the frown, the unsettled expression, the shifting, but also the grit and want to prove Sebastian wrong that attract him so much more than the good two shoes routine. “Still get nightmares about your I, Robot, performance, last parents-teachers conference night.” He paused to take a good look at him. “I rather like you like this.” He smirked, leading him upstairs as they reached the dorms. “We’re doing it at my place.” He didn’t want anyone seeing him getting tutored and getting ideas from it.
Frustrated. He was confused and frustrated and it was only getting worse.
Diversion? The confusion that made Blaine’s head spin before he opened his mouth only doubled in the ways it played out on his face. Brows creased together tight and he opened his lips to say something a good couple of times before words actually happened. When they did? A faint hint of crimson spread over the bridge of his nose and warmed his cheeks. “No. Not a.. Why would you say I was a diversion? A diversion to what exactly? You being bored? Focusing on yourself instead of on me and all the faults I have that you love to point out?” Did Sebastian make himself feel better with every little dig about his personality, thoughts, feelings that he took? He must. Because they weren’t stopping. Blaine might pride himself on his ability to keep a mostly level head in any given circumstance when it came to people like Sebastian Smythe but even he had his limits. Sebastian seemed quite intent on pushing him over them. Happy to do so even.
This entire conversation was borderlining on ridiculous at this point. Maybe they should cut their losses. Come up with a plan that they could both say they did what the Dean made him promise and be done with each other. Sebastian wouldn’t get kicked off the lacrosse team, which Blaine isn’t sure Sebastian knows will happen if his grades don’t improve. And he could focus on The Warblers so they could win Sectionals. Win/Win. If you asked him. He had no idea how tight his hands were getting. Or how the color that’d bled from his knuckles had now left them beyond pale as the crescent shapes of his nails started to dig into the flesh of his palm. He was, also, clueless that his eyes were darker and his back teeth were grinding together. Until Sebastian pointed it out by asking him… “Hit you,” a strained whisper before his upper lip curled in disbelief. Dark lashes fluttered as he rapidly blinked and the shadows in his stare lifted. “No. I’d never.. I’m not like that.” It was just.. Sebastian always managed to find buttons Blaine didn’t even know he had. Then proceed to push (no slam) every. single. one.
Eye contact broken, a visibly increasingly shaken Blaine kept at Sebastian’s side not once looking up from the marble passing by underneath his feet. Barely listening to the answer to his question as his head swam with the idea that his arm ached from holding himself back the way he must have. How he knew as soon as he left Sebastian’s company, he’d be in the gym until he couldn’t lift his arms anymore. Let alone swing. How’d he let Sebastian take him to that place? Drag him down that far? He shook his head and lifted one hand to hold the strap of his satchel right at the shoulder. “I think you waste a lot of your time thinking you know me well enough to even guess you know what I’d like to think of myself as. You don’t know anything about me that matters enough to have even a clue. Stop thinking you do.”
“Like that. Stop thinking you have a clue as to why I might have been on the only autopilot I know that night that’ll make things..,” he cut himself off and abruptly changed the subject. Blaine figured they were going to his room. Why would Sebastian suggest otherwise? Wouldn’t it be too big of a risk that someone might drop by and might see him there? You know? “Your room? Why your room? Aren’t you worried someone might see me following you there? I wouldn’t want you to risk that.” You could practically taste the sarcasm dripping from his lips. Finally looking up at him, the Warbler rolled his eyes and dismissed having the energy to argue with an upward twitch of the fingers near his shoulder. “Whatever. Let’s go,” he rolled his eyes and waited for Sebastian to take the lead.
( sms : blaine ) Auditorium. ( sms : blaine ) Or maybe it’s just choosing to be proactive. ( sms : blaine ) 😇
( mssg » kurt | sent) Don’t think I didn’t just now make up the flimsiest excuse I’ve ever used in my life to pardon myself from a group of people. ( mssg » kurt | sent) Oh, you are in so much trouble! ( mssg » kurt | sent)
“Blaine?“ Elliott raised his voice a little so it could carry across the flat, a pillow clutched in a tattoo heavy hand as he searched around somewhat AIMLESSLY. Dropping it back on the sofa none too CEREMONIOUSLY, Elliott gave up his searching for the moment, instead seeking Blaine out; a task much EASIER than the first.
“Have you seen my glasses? I can’t find them ANYWHERE.” And he had a script to study, so his options rested between finding and having to wear the DAMN things or risking a SPLITTING headache that would no doubt ruin his evening.
On finding Blaine in the bathroom, a bright smile BLOSSOMED across Elliott’s face, a hand instantly going to his hip so he could press a kiss to cherry lips.
“Yes, Elliott??” Blaine had just finished up his shower and pulled on something to sleep in when he heard Elliott wandering through the apartment. Either he was lost in his own home or was looking for something. Judging by the amount of things being moved around and sat down Blaine could hear? He could be moving the furniture too. Though, at this hour, that was the most unlikely of all the assumptions Blaine could make.
Ah! His glasses! He started to hurry up his routine so he could go help. Hair combed back off his face with just a little bit of something to keep them mostly tame overnight and his feet now warm inside his slippers…and he was set to spend the rest of the night in.
Only Elliott beat him and joined him in the bathroom instead. Blaine smiled seeing Elliott smile. “I think I saw them in the bedroom on the nightstand last. I’d be willing to bet there still there,” he hummed happily when their lips met. Okay, that was nice. Glasses could wait. Cause he lifted up to gently return the peck against the corner of Elliott’s lips, his smile returning to his own. “Come on. Let’s go look.”
( mssg » blaine | sent ) Blaine..what’s going on? I really don’t mind talking about it, if it will help you feel better. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) I don’t know exactly what’s going on, so I can’t help you too much. But just take some time and clear your head, dude. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) Not a problem. Yeah, of course. Now, you don’t have to do dinner, even if I do love Breadstix.
( mssg » finn | sent ) I just could really use your company, I guess. If it’s not too awkward. I know Kurt’s your brother, you have your own problems and if this is too much to put on your plate? I understand. ( mssg » finn | sent ) I’m trying to do that. If my head would stop spinning for more than two seconds, I might be able to focus on getting it clear. But I can’t even get to that point yet. ( mssg » finn | sent ) Seriously? No. No. Let me buy you dinner. I haven’t been there in forever. It’ll give me a reason to get out of the house and do something. I can pick you up? Around 6:30?
pianokeysandbowties 