“I kissed you on the cheek and you didn’t say anything about it, I assumed you weren’t interested.”
“Sam.. You shouldn’t take it that way. It’s not that I’m not interested.. I am. I just..don’t know what you want. Or what it meant. I’ve learned my lesson in looking too deeply into things. Not from you. In general. And you are way too important to me to chance anything for no other reason alone than my wishful thinking. Does that make sense? Or am I rambling? I guess I am.. Sorry.”
♪♬ INDEPENDENT BLAINE ANDERSON FROM FOX’S GLEE. AS LOVED BY J. ♬♪
( mssg » kurt | sent ) Maybe we could talk more often then? ( mssg » kurt | sent ) Especially with the wedding and you coming back to town soon. ( mssg » kurt | sent ) We could make plans, you know? I’m really excited to see you again. ( mssg » kurt | sent )
Do you have anyone to pick you up from the airport?
Making love was never about you and me in a bed. We made love whenever we held hands.
give me a long distance plot where muse a is famous as fuck and creates a fake fan account on twitter/tumblr to feel kinda closer to fans and it’s all good and no one really knows it’s him and it’s all good and he’s getting to know what fans want from him but then enters muse b, who’s so completely in love with muse a and his music. the two begin to talk and they become friends and soon they’re texting constantly and she tells him everything and fangirls about her idol to him and they’ve both caught feelings really badly. so one day muse b gets a little scared that she’s being catfished so she asks muse a to video call her. out of fear of losing her, he agrees and, surprise bitch, it’s her fucking idol.
An eager gaze fixated on the outskirts of the glass front bordering the densely populated coffee shop, teeth sinking down the human’s bottom lip and one grande non-fat mocha and a premature ordered medium drip labeled ‘Blaine’ already sat quietly in the middle of their usual table. They had quietly grown accustomed to these little post-work meetings. Spending most of his time working at Isabelle Wright’s office for Vogue, there was something about his recurring talks with Blaine that made him look forward to the end of his day, and in turn, getting to know pretty much everything about him — the fact they already seemed to have so much in common despite once definitely complete strangers( not to mention the other male’s particularly high cuteness level ) only really furthering his beliefs in serendipity.
Maybe he had been getting a little ahead of himself. Maybe being the ever hopeless romantic somehow already caused him to ruin whatever time they still had left between the two of them. Still, it felt oddly comforting. To know he had a friend outside of his home and the office. One who had not only helped him when it came to figuring out the subway but slowly but surely ease into life as a full-fledged New Yorker.
His muscles tensed at the disruptive sounds of someone else pulling up one of the chairs facing opposite side of him.
❛ Oh, I’m kind of waiting for someone. ❜
So what if Rachel could hardly believe he was real? It seemed kind of awkward to just demand they take a picture.
this coffee shop wasn’t anything like the new york that adam could remember. it felt a little misplaced, too bright, too modern, too clean. the walls were strangely bare, as if the only people who could take joy in the place were people with extensive imaginations. that, and the tea selection was abysmal. what sort of hot-beverage house didn’t have a simple english breakfast option or an earl grey? finally, he settled on a small cup of some ridiculously titled fujian tea for the sole purpose of warming up his hands. being in new york and experiencing the changes since his last visit had been somewhat disorientating. but, it had come with one incredibly special perk: lots of humans. in fact, there were too many. it was always tempting for him to just give in to his desires, relinquish the hold he’d had on his instincts for decades. when so many people existed in one small space, a handful wouldn’t go terribly missing too often. during this see-saw of conflict was when adam had first spotted kurt. and he was most definitely intriguing to every one of adam’s less-than-living senses. and, somewhat comically, he’d managed to catch blaine’s eye too. and intercepting blaine’s frustrating dance with the human was far too easy after watching them and learning their patterns.
as he sat opposite his prey, adam fixed a warm smile onto his face – he’d been taught to act innocent and humble in almost any situation from his youth and had always maintained his manners. chivalry was (un)dead, after all.
❝ my sincerest apologies, ❞ he answered simply, although he made little attempt to get back up off the seat. ❝ i thought it might be a little too good to be true that you weren’t expecting company. how rude of me. ❞ making a show of glancing around the coffee shop, adam hummed. ❝ would you mind if i sat here until your companion shows? it’s a little crowded in here. ❞ he didn’t understand why. it wasn’t somewhere he would choose to meet someone – there was no elegance to it and he was still endlessly frustrated with americans and their complete disregard for decent tea. ❝ and, call me a snob, but sitting with the most well dressed individual so i can compliment him on his choice of shirt seemed like something i just had to do. ❞ his eyes instantly flicked back to the other to admire the fox shirt with a slightly more friendly and dashing smile, before he extended his unpleasing fujian tea-warmed hand across the table. ❝ i’m forgetting all of my manners today: i’m adam. ❞
“And I’m Blaine. Pleasure to meet you, Adam.” Blaine’s voice was quiet. In spite of his smile, anyone who knew him how Adam knew him, could easily hear the hint of restrained annoyance he was doing his best to cover up with being ever the gentleman he was taught to be. Complete with the curt nod and ever-so-curious glint of light that sparked to life in his eyes when he gathered his wits together enough to give himself a swift kick in the pants to notice how tightly his fist inside the pocket of a navy blue peacoat was balled up. The dawning realization came with another err of caution as the warmth of his coffee mug intensified on his fingertips clued him in that they were gripping it too harshly. Any more pressure might’ve caused the ceramic to crack and put him in a far more outwardly flustered state.
How did Adam find out about this? About him?
Kurt was his secret. His escape. Seeing Adam sitting across the table from his secret made ice cold blood burn like fire in his veins. He should have expected this. Adam, to Blaine, was the definition of the modern day saying ‘this is why we can’t have nice things’. Expecting anything less was a folly. A blunder among countless others throughout the decades of whatever game him and the blond Englishman played. Yet, he cracked a broader smile and gave Adam a grin that said he was joking as he took a chair between the two. One that ended up slightly closer to Kurt’s side of the table by sheer ‘coincidence’ of it being where he’d slid it to, of course. “I’m kidding. We’ve met before. Adam.. How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever.” He wished. Turning his attention to a now probably very confused Kurt, Blaine gently sat his coffee mug on the table and flicked a wave towards Adam. “Do the two of you know one another? Adam and I met when I first came here. I guess it’s true what they say? Small world. Even when you’re in New York City..” If only that were the case. Adam. Adam. Adam. The two of them were going to have one heck of a talk after this…
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⟨ text : blaine ⟩ i forgot you were a total nerd who doesn’t text in class. ⟨ text : blaine ⟩frank is a well loved and respected – not to mention incredibly talented – actor. he doesn’t need any mom money. not this week anyway. ⟨ text : blaine ⟩my online presence is incredibly important, blaine! these instafamous people are getting everything. sugar bear hair sponsorship? they get it. i could do it. i’ve got great hair. ⟨ text : blaine ⟩ this is los angeles, people always stay longer than they’re meant to. getting a ticket is just a daily occurrence. you don’t get that excitement in new york, squirt! reason number 793 from the cooper anderson memoirs of why you should scrap those broadway dreams and hit hollywood hard. we could be the next hemsworth brothers. you can be liam minus miley and i’ll be chris. except i’ll be doing the hunger games too. ⟨ text : blaine ⟩ my lips are sealed. the non disclosure agreement i signed in the starbucks drive through yesterday forbids me from saying any more.
( mssg » cooper | sent ) I’m not a nerd. I just like learning. There’s a difference! ( mssg » cooper | sent ) …… ( mssg » cooper | sent ) Not this week anyway. Let’s try to make sure he doesn’t ever need to use the mom money to get himself out of prison, okay? ( mssg » cooper | sent ) Cooper. The longer Frank waits to get back there, the more trouble he’s going to get in. If the cops are there, he can say he didn’t think he hit someone but circled back just to check and be safe. ( mssg » cooper | sent ) It’s hard to have an online presence while you’re in jail when you’re the one running your own fansite! ( mssg » cooper | sent ) Before you ask. No. I won’t run it for you if you get sent to the tank! ( mssg » cooper | sent ) As tempting as that sounds, New York is where I want to be. Los Angeles is my runner up. Do you think I could make–Wait! Forget about the Hollywood/Broadway talk! Frank is seriously running out of time! ( mssg » cooper | sent ) …Starbucks drive thru?
“You totally are my best friend too, Blainey. Like the bestest of best friends EVER. My bestest BFF” Sam’s words might be slurred due to the amount of alcohol but he meant every word of what he said. He grinned slightly as he leaned into Blaine’s personal space to nudge him with a shoulder. “Like I’d let everybody do bodyshots with me.. only you and that’s saying something.”
Blaine should have cut himself off half a drink ago. Or more. But when everyone around you is downing whatever this was that looked like blueberries but smelled like turpentine and you’re too caught up in the moment to hit the breaks. Confessing his adoration for Sam’s friendship had him hanging on whatever the blond would say back. Maybe a little too hopeful and hell bent on liquid courage..here is where he finds himself. Arm slung over Sam’s shoulders and blinking at his best friend’s reaction. Body shots? Lips puckered, cheeks dusted pink, his heart raced to catch up to a few skipped beats. “Y-Yeah,” he stuttered, “Body shots. Me too.. Definitely.” You know? Platonic body shots. Those are a thing. Right? Totally a thing.