barry.

"Man, it is freezing out there.“ It was weird how one could get
so used to the warmth at home, they’d forget all about the fact
they had been walking out in the streets with everything
covered but the eyes. “Uh, you an hang your coat up there if
you want.” Being known for his tendency to just drop his jacket
wherever the moment he walked through the door, he hardly ever
remembered the hanger on the corner. “Exactly, let the record
reflect I gave you fair warning.” He grinned at his own joke and
shrugged his shoulders. In that weather, everyone around the
city seemed to be getting a cold left and right– not him, of
course, not with his immune system 400 times faster than it had
ever been the first twenty-five years of his life. “I meant you’ll have more nog on that cup than this one,” he then
revealed with a smile, picking up the Rudolph cup once again.
“Hm!” he hummed against the rim as he sipped from it, nodding
his head. “Grandma Esther liked her beverages– spiky,
apparently. Although she was actually my foster dad’s grandma,
I’ve never even met her.” He did, however, benefit from her
recipes Joe had inherited almost his entire life.

Remembering what Blaine had promised to bring along,
enthusiastic like a child who remembered there was still candy
left from the night before, he took the liberty of leaning over
the coffee table, uncovering the plate. “Ooh, these look good,” he
commented as he parted a small piece for himself. “I mean,” He
paused to swallow. “unless I’m sleepwalking again.” He smiled,
more out of embarrassment for the lameness of his joke than
amusement and shook his head. “Relax, I was wide awake.” He
shrugged, his smile fading into a warmer one. “I’m not that…
normal, I guess.” Normally, he wouldn’t mind. Being a meta, after
all, was his favorite thing about himself. But if everything, his
life as the Flash and the burden it implied, were to come to a
pause at night so he could get some sleep like normal people
did– he would have sealed that deal without thinking twice.
“Wow, these are good,” he remarked on a more cheerful note,
helping himself with a second piece. Normally, he would let his
mind slip into that kind of gloomy train of thought, reliving nightmares like he couldn’t help it. Nothing about him
seemed as cheerful as it had once been. That night, however, was
different. He accounted it on the holiday season, but deep down
he knew Blaine was a highly contributing factor to his unusually good mood. “It was nice. Our friends came over, my
foster dad brought his girlfriend… It was a good time.” A
peaceful time, which to them meant a whole lot more than most
people could have realized. “How was yours?”

“You did give me fair warning. So it is duly noted, Sir.” A lively smirk and a wink followed Barry’s pardon from being in too much trouble for giving him Grandma EggNog firewater. Yeah. As sweet as he was? Short of grievous harm or–who knows? burning all his bowties in a fit of rage?–Barry could probably get away with most things when it came to Blaine being bound to forgive him. They might not have known each other for long? But in the short time that Blaine had the fortune to get to know him? Barry was one of those good sorts of people. The ones that come into your life because karma did you a favor and planted someone worth keeping right in your pathway for you to discover. Weather from hell that brought them together aside? He knew he lucked out finding Barry Allen. His life just felt so much warmer when Barry was around. “I think she found the miracle cure for frozen bones. Because two swallows in? The chill from outside has been effectively removed from my veins,” he smiled fondly and moved to take a seat beside Barry. Minutes into his arrival and he could tell that the old saying was right. Like attracts like. It was peaceful here. Comforting. From the smell of Christmas in the air to the left over energetic buzz created by company and people who loved one another–it was simple to relax back and just feel at ease.

An eyebrow quirked up at the sleepwalking comment. “Joking or not? You make a pretty lucid sleepwalker. I’m impressed,” he poked back. “I could’ve used that talent in school. I’d be kind of jealous.” Clamping his mouth shut–Blaine’s gaze turned as warm as his smile. Barry couldn’t have been any cuter than his childish excitement when realizing he had cookies waiting for him. Oh boy–did he just think cute? Yeah, he did. “I like not normal. The best kind of people are the unnormal ones,” catching up to the lighter note–he perked up and took a cookie. “Thanks. An old friend’s recipe. His mother taught it to him when he was little. I got to be one of the privileged few that it was handed down to. Promised to only make them for special occasions. That was the stipulation for such,” he drew out the word with a over serious lowbrow glare, “sacred knowledge.” One bite of the cookie and he agreed. They were good. “I’m glad you had a good time.” Grandma Esther would get a proposal from him if she were here for the next sip when it was mixed with his cookie. “Mine? Mine was quiet. A few phone calls and a whole lot of baking. I volunteered last night at a center downtown for teens that don’t have any homes to go to for Christmas. It was great seeing them happy and dancing. Tonight’s been getting much better. Must be the company. Or the drink? Not sure which one yet but I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” There came that wry grin again. One that broke away into chuckles as he nudged Barry’s shoulder with his own. “This is a great place, by the way.” Uncurling from his spot, he sat his mug on the coffee table before standing up and offering Barry his hand. “Show me your tree? I purposefully went for the whole Charlie Brown theme this year. Yours looks gorgeous from here.”

sebastian.

❛❛you’re lucky you look like that, or else i’d be morally obligated to toss you out for spreading such blasphemous things.’ he pointed out, when blaine said coffee wasn’t real food. he took another sip of his own mug making a fake grimace. ‘though you might have a point about THIS one. coffee without a shot doesn’t really live to its full potential.’ the words were witty and quick, but his voice was still rough with tiredness, though the dark, bitter liquid was doing its job on starting to wake him up from his daze. he was a lot more aware of blaine’s nervousness than he’d been a moment ago, for example, and he wasn’t sure if liked the change. he’d rather keep pretending blaine felt as comfortable as he did sharing breakfast with him, and bantering about nothing. it was nice pretending blaine enjoyed this as much as he did. but then again, that had been their relationship from the start, right? blaine too astonished to come back at him, and sebastian filling in the blanks.

‘you okay?’ he asked eventually, because blaine looked as though he might throw up in his coffee mug. and sebastian wasn’t sure if it was just the hangover or something worse. he glanced at blaine worriedly, eyes taking in the way blaine’s golden ones were staring at him. he actually stuttered, something sebastian hadn’t seen him do since their first few meets, when he’d laid on the boy all his best moves at once, hoping at least one of them would strike home. making blaine blushed and stuttery. he was also so quiet, sebastian leaned forward without noticing, as he tried to hear. blaine was really confusing him now. he had never seen him this serious before. not since the night they’d had a long conversation sebastian would rather not be reminded of, in which blaine made it very clear that kurt was the one he loved, always had, always would, and that if sebastian still wanted to be friends with him after everything, he had to respect that. and he had. no matter how much effort it took at times. he had.

he heard blaine’s words when he finally spoke, but sebastian hadn’t missed the hint of desolation in his eyes. he knew blaine. knew him too well to miss something like that. and blaine’s hushed, hollow, words fell on numb ears as sebastian looked at him intently as though trying to listen to what blaine REALLY wanted to say. he watched, slightly stupefied that blaine would just drop whatever it was like that. had sebastian hurt him? had he done something so bad blaine couldn’t bring himself to say it? he pushed the mug on the counter by his side and slid off of it. ‘we made a deal. you said i got a question. i want you to tell me what i really did last night.’ he said, firmly.

Did he stare too long? See? That was the problem. Giving himself away enough to cause Sebastian concern and for him to ask a question that Blaine was hoping he’d never have to answer was NOT what he wanted. Damn it. Out of the two of them? He was going to be the only one who ever remembered what happened inside the cab. Sebastian wouldn’t have to not think about it. Or be the one who had to go through a few weeks wondering how to avoid eye contact while not avoiding it too much and definitely not letting his gaze stray towards someone’s mouth. Maybe longer. Depending on how much time it took for Blaine to get that process down. His wobbly jokes and quick pounces on whatever subject from breakfast to eclairs to coffee were going to be a defense that only HE had to figure out. It sucked being the only person who could look back onto the previous twelve hours and not know what it was like.

For the better? Yeah. But there was a part of him that wished he wouldn’t be alone in something so…important.

Blaine’s jawline flinched back teeth grinding together like he had to chew a bitter pill up before swallowing it. He was being absolutely ridiculous. How greedy could he get? Seeing Sebastian slide down to the floor from the corner of his eye–Blaine sat the carafe back down on the countertop and instinctively glanced up at the tone in the other’s voice. His mouth opened, small noises and sharp exhales. “I just told you–” A crooked smile staggered from barely there to so wide it made his cheeks puffy when his eyes rolled in mock exasperation. Blaine was actually considering lying again and giving himself dead away.

“You–you were a mess,” his hand blindly reached for the counter behind him and he held onto it backing up until his hip bounced off it. The other palm lifted from his side and waved to correct the word. “Drunk. I mean. Not an actual mess.” The longer he watched Sebastian–the harder it was to keep up with such a blatant zigzag. One that was all for nothing when he blurted out. “I mean–I got you into the cab and you were laughing and having a great time and we talked and youkissedme.” Dead silence. The kind that comes crashing down loud as thunder when you catch yourself a heartbeat too late and then your heart stops beating altogether. Blaine’s froze, only blinking at him. His lips puckered, the edge of two front teeth gripped the inside corner of both. He screwed up. That wasn’t supposed to come out. Yet. There it was.

“I didn’t think you’d forget. I just realized you did.”

kurt.

Breathing in the sweet, seductive smells of Blaine’s surprise breakfast and momentarily caught off guard as he found himself staring shamelessly at his fiancé for just a moment, Kurt merely shook his head back at him in response as he sluggishly made his entrance into the loft’s kitchen; his own smiles growing infinitely wider and briefly stopping to look at some of Blaine’s newly fried creations before answering the man’s greeting. “Whatever happened to getting breakfast out in the city?” he breathed, pulling away from Blaine’s lips and looking positively stunned by this unexpected gesture. Whatever expectations he might have had about the pair of them waking up and living at the loft together up until now, Blaine had surely already managed to exceed them.

“Not that I’m at all complaining–”

A low chuckle escaped his lips as he settled himself down on one of the vacant nearby chairs surrounding the kitchen table. “If anything, this sure beats having to share a bowl of straight-out-of-the-box cereal with Rachel,” Kurt couldn’t help but to tease the other male lightly, a slight sheepish grin soon enough once again taking over his sleepy looking features while his piercing blue gaze briefly lingered on those of the man currently still very much standing on direct opposite side of him.

“We probably should have thought of this whole moving in together thing a couple of months sooner,” he more thoughtfully admitted, though admittedly still not yet quite able to contain his own excitement at the particular prospect as he quietly poured himself his first cup of coffee that morning; the corners of his mouth curving up into a warm, loving smile and suddenly feeling more than eager to try out whatever else both Blaine and Bushwick seemed to have in store for them.

“I guess I sort of changed my mind when I woke up and you looked so peacefully asleep. There’s always lunch or dinner,” he hummed after the kiss. Fingers glided across Kurt’s back as Blaine watched him take a seat. Grabbing the plate of fresh fruit off the countertop–he smiled down at the berries and oranges. If this is what life was going to be like from here on out? He wasn’t going to ever let them lose how this morning felt. Not after ten, twenty or a billion more.

“I love you..,” he had to say it.

Blaine crossed behind Kurt’s chair and stopped long enough to bend down and press a soft kiss to the top of his fiance’s head and blindly set the plate down. The smell of shampoo, fabric softener from the pillows and his own cologne lingered in Kurt’s hair. Blaine suddenly found his new favorite scent. Not bothering to sit across the table, he picked the chair beside Kurt’s instead. “I’d hope so. As much as cereal can be a wonderful way to start the day. Or end the night? Pancakes are way better.” His coffee mug paused on it’s way towards him and he turned to lean towards Kurt with a smile.

“Well I’m here now and that’s what’s important,” Blaine waited until Kurt was done pouring his coffee before one more morning kiss met Kurt’s cheek. Settling back in his chair a smile later–Blaine lifted his cup and took a sip. “What would you like to do first? You still have to show me all your favorite spots you’ve found. Maybe we could go shopping? There’s some things I need to pick up for school and around the house. That can wait til tomorrow if you want to take the time to wander around. I’m just happy to spend time with you. That’s all that matters.”

santana.

Santana hated that her heart was breaking. She hated that Blaine was the one who caused it. She hated a lot of things to be fair — but nothing as strongly as this moment. Out of the best && the worst times, she thought he’d always be somewhere in between. He could stay in her grey area && never be anything less or more than a friend. The only other time she noticed how strongly she felt for him was after he’d nearly been blinded by Sebastian. Even though that was in the past, it was still a defining moment for the both of them. It showed them both how much she cared. Blaine wasn’t going to be her free pass anymore. She couldn’t have a simple love. When Santana felt something for someone it was passionate. The love she spread was like a flame && someone always ended up getting BURNED. The entirety of his rant, followed by her own nagging insecurities further proved that point. Santana wasn’t a good person, she just wished it hadn’t been Blaine to prove it. He was her safe place. Even Brittany was on the up && down spiral of Santana’s wild way of loving. They’d hit rock bottom && reached for the stars more times than she could count. There use to be a peace in knowing at least she could have one person untouched by such unpredictable feelings. Now all peace was gone, && she had to face all of the mistakes she’d made && will make again with the people she loved ALONE.

Hearing that same voice that once meant comfort && serenity sparked something within Santana. She was going to walk away, because she new things were hitting rock bottom. It was such a powerful feeling of negativity && hatred. Both of which were safer being dealt with alone. Bringing herself down was a one way path to a day or two in solitude. That kind of pain was nothing compared to the retaliation of her taking it out on another person she cared about. She chose that path already, && she didn’t want to make the same mistake two times in a row. Of course, Blaine couldn’t leave it alone. He couldn’t accept that he’d been cruel. He couldn’t live with himself being the villain. When she felt his hand on her elbow she snapped. There was no going back now. With a sharp turn Santana raised her hand && delivered a slap that rang out like a thunderclap. The contact sent a shock through her arm as she pulled away. “Stay the hell away from me! Don’t EVER touch me again, && don’t even think about stepping foot in my wedding. You think it’s hard living an unforgiving life, where you’re the villain? You have no idea how painful it really is. Trust me, Blaine, it never gets better. ” With harsh words spat in his face she backed away, feeling tears fall as her heart willed her to stop. To erase what had been said && making it work. She wanted them to WORK. It just didn’t seem possible anymore. So again she chose to run away, making her way out the door.

Blaine was in an anxiety ridden panic to get her to stop. She deserved to be told what she said hurt the person he ~~loved~~ cared about far deeper than Kurt stood there and let on. Enough that if he had to hear about it from Rachel and be asked to call Kurt himself. That he was struggling to keep his head above water without being involved in everything since they all decided to return home. That his world was thrown even more off the very thin layer of concrete he just laid down to get his footing when KURT made ‘not being involved’ impossible by ceasing to be out of sight, out of mind (not really but it was getting easier with Dave and therapy and all the work he put into rebuilding his life HERE) and was right there, seemingly everywhere Blaine turned. Maybe not that extreme but it felt that way because he couldn’t stop thinking about him or his state of mind or ‘I’m going to earn your forgiveness and then I’m going to win your heart back’. He listened to Rachel, he called Kurt and maybe that was the mistake that lead to this. One more painful bundle of choked out words of Kurt being okay heard over the phone? Here he was. Lashing out at the one person who trusted him completely with a friendship that the both of them held very near and dear.

Through distance and time apart, they would always reconnect because Blaine knew what he meant to Santana. Santana knew what she meant to him. They had a connection. Something in the background of all the friendships that had their ups and downs and everywheres that often surrounded the whole group. They were different. They understood what it was like to have family members who wished the closet locked from the outside. To doubt themselves in the middle of figuring who they were out. ‘I used to pretend I was so confident because it was easier than being terrified after that night, you know?’ They were sitting on the stage at McKinley. Santana still so terrified of being forced out in the open. His and Kurt’s plan to make her feel better failing miserably. Blaine talked to her in whispers. So no one could hear their secrets. ‘My Dad liked it better and Dalton helped me slowly become that. Mostly. There were days when I still wasn’t as sure of myself as I made sure everyone thought I was. Sometimes those days happen now. Please don’t tell anyone and I promise no more duets.’ She knew parts of him no one else did. Vice versa too. A flash of white. A loud crack. Pain and heat across his face. Blaine tasted copper from where he bit tongue. Still. It took him half a second to compute…she hit him. In shock, wide eyes blinked owlishly but his touch was gone and he didn’t move an inch. “I-I won’t. I’m sorry,” came out broken and he watched her retreat towards the hall knowing he shouldn’t follow. It’d only make things worse. Instead–tired legs carried him to the first desk they could reach and he sat down heavily, limbs giving out like a marionette with it’s strings cut. Elbows cracked against the desk and he used the heels of his palms to rub a forehead bent down into them. The ache on his cheek was still there as a physical reminder of the fact that maybe this time? He’d just joined the ranks of everyone else in her life. And that was more painful than the sting.

hunter.

Hunter didn’t know his next move. For the first time, he had no plan. How could you know what to do when your instincts were all turned around? Acting on passion never did him any favors. He should of held his own. Should of held BACK. It was pathetic how utterly lost he was in front of his friend. God, he still thought that. He still considered Blaine his friend. Somehow in his rage, he saw a light in Blaine’s eyes that just didn’t seem unfaithful. As a matter of fact, Blaine seemed like the most trustworthy person he’d ever met. So why was he so afraid of letting him in? Guess it’s just a bad habit. Pushing people away is easier after all. Even if that means letting go of the one thing you truly one. The one person you truly want. His heart was aching with both grief && disappointment. Only both emotions were a result of his own foolish behavior. Not only did he ATTACK Blaine multiple times, he really went in for the kill with that kiss. The most dangerous thing he could do. Kissing the enemy wasn’t how you won a fight. How could he let himself act so recklessly? The action was by every means a tell that Hunter wasn’t as strong as he seemed. Then again his raging temper showed the same thing, only he didn’t see it that way. Rage was easy to show. It hid the better parts of the heart that could be hurt. Unlike a kiss did. He knew Blaine was going to be a problem from the start. He just didn’t expect it to go down like this.

The taste of Blaine’s lips still lingered when he pulled away. Even though he wanted to run in the other direction, he stayed put. In fact, it felt like he was almost closer than before. Like he was moving unintentionally towards his worst fear. His darkest weakness. Blaine was everything untouchable for the Warbler, so why did he long to reach out? Why when he asked him what his reasoning could be, did Hunter simply close the gap they’d made between them? They were so close now that he could feel Blaine’s breath, && it was so tempting. His essence was drawing him in && eating him alive. He could barely see straight because he was exploring every inch of his face. So that maybe, just maybe, he could tell what he was thinking. That was a dark path to go down. Hunter’s knack for self loathing came up with plenty of awful imagery. Plenty of scarring words that he assumed were crossing Blaine’s mind right now. How was that not enough for him to walk away? How could he survive being locked in this moment with someone he felt so inferior to? His presence was growing on him. He felt suffocated in the best of ways. In the most terrifying of ways. Blaine had more control than he realized. “You win. Take your team back. Just don’t be surprised if it drives me away.” His breath fell short as he finished speaking, because he didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to run away this time. Maybe it was just the adrenalin in his system, but his confidence ( as defeated as it was ) seemed in tact. He may come off as prideful, but Hunter had never been more ashamed. Especially considering he leaned in again. He was even closer to Blaine now. His lips were a centimeter away from brushing against his. He held himself back though. Hovering seemed like the worst idea, but he couldn’t go forward with it. He couldn’t pull back, or move in. The rest was up to Blaine, && he hated the reaction he wished for. As much as Hunter wanted him to turn away, to break Hunter’s apparently vulnerable heart by hitting him with his fists rather than his lips — he wanted him in his entirety so much more. One final attempt. “Push me away. Hit me one last time. Make me regret this… Finish what I started.” but did he even know what he meant by that? Was it an invitation to finish the fight, or return for a second kiss? There was no telling anymore. It was all up to Blaine.

Blaine felt every tiny movement that Hunter made as the other Warbler came in closer and closer until they were only a fraction of a breath apart. The air around them changed. Intensified in a way Blaine couldn’t pinpoint on whether he should be ready for the blow Hunter seemed to want to throw earlier would come. Or if what just happened changed this game all together. He couldn’t blink, couldn’t swallow or move or even speak as every minute twitch of his face was so visibly read. He could only stare back–unsure and unsteady under such scrutiny that it made him feel utterly vulnerable. In the worst kind of way. That’s when he realized that he was afraid. Afraid of what Hunter might do next because if he were to swing? Blaine knew he was going to end up taking the full brunt of the hit because seeing Hunter so rattled and upset made any thought of returning the punch or even flinching out of the way impossible. He was pinned there. Under the breath he felt on his cheek and the ghost of Hunter’s lips so near he could feel the dampness of their mouths mixing together as they exhaled. “This isn’t about winning anyone. I never wanted to take them. I never wanted to hurt your feelings.” Granted, Hunter was a person Blaine either barely tolerated or–towards the end–felt some kind of indifference towards. Before he returned to Dalton and got to know the other boy. Then–strangely enough–they became friends. A slow burn that took months but Blaine was grateful when the animosity and mistrust turned into something better. God knew if he wanted hallways that felt like ghosts lingered around every corner and the tiles felt like broken glass and shattered hopes walking down, he’d have stayed at McKinley. “I came back to Dalton because this was home and I never wanted things to get ugly. I didn’t plan on it being such a change for them but it was. I didn’t provoke it. Not on purpose. Why can’t you see that?” Why was he begging now? If Hunter wanted to hate him? There was probably little to nothing that Blaine could do to change his mind. Hunter never seemed the type for that.

Saddened eyes stared down at Hunter’s lips as they moved. Looking up was too painful. Blaine’s fingers twitched from their uneven, jaggedly held fistfuls of nothing and grabbed at the cuffs of his own blazer. He swallowed HARD. “I’m not hitting you. I won’t. I don’t want to.” Hunter started two things in this confrontation. A fight and a kiss. Which one did he want him to finish? Blaine wouldn’t dare think it was the second. Not with how he seemed to hate him now. Maybe kissing him would make Hunter hate him even more. Tears made his vision blurry as they welled. He ruined this too, didn’t he? Mixed messages and misfiring signals. Rage and hate and the guilt they built up in his belly were easier to believe than the opposite. Suddenly, he wished Sebastian would walk in. Break them up. See what was happening and–somehow–save this from spiraling further out of control. There was no sign of him, though. And there wouldn’t be. Blaine never felt more alone in a place he never imagined the possibility feeling alone. It hurt. Alone with someone you thought was your friend? “I never thought we could be this way. Not here. Not with–.” You. The word fell off the tip of his tongue and never saw the light of day as he took one toe to heel step back and dragged the other foot along once his heel touched the rug. “If you want something finished? You finish it. I’m tired of being the one to ruin things. I can’t do it this time. I’m sorry, Hunter. I won’t.” Biting his lip–Blaine’s brows pinched together at the aftertaste of Hunter and he forced the burning in his eyes to stop by looking at the ceiling and then back. It barely worked but it was worth the shot.

barry.

Barry had always thought of that rainy day as a blessing. He
had his friends who by that point had become like family to him, but there was something entirely different about Blaine,
like the way every room he walked into seemed to get a little
brighter when he did, as did the smile on Barry’s face whenever
he caught sight of him. He must have been just one of those
people, Barry thought, those you only hear about in movies
starring Drew Barrymore. The kind of people that carried that
indescribable quality that had them bring joy and light
everywhere they went, so effortlessly, like they had no idea
they were doing it to begin with. And perhaps that first
impression was in fact correct– but it certainly didn’t explain
why Barry found himself talking about him far more often than
he realized, or why there was a little voice in his head warning
him friends didn’t look at each other like that whenever he got
absentmindedly lost while Blaine was talking, face resting on
his knuckles with a warm smile of awe ghosting over his lips,
most likely resembling the cartoon of a lovestruck forth-grader.

All of that which should have been to the answer to those and so
many other questions Blaine had unknowingly awakened, was
actually the last thing on his mind. Instead, his thoughts were
far more primitive, linked almost exclusively to the way he felt, to the way that felt. The hair on the back of his neck
stood as goosebumps rose all across his skin in response to him
bringing a hand up to his face. Through his veins, blood began
flowing even faster than usual, carrying all the different
chemical reactions that had suddenly been triggered, and he
heard his heart thumping in his ears. It had been a long time
since a kiss had had him feel like that. Intense as the
combination to all of those sensations was, almost overflowing
him, his instinctive response was to want more, a hand rising to
cup the back of Blaine’s neck in an attempt to get him exactly
that. In the process, he felt the tip of his tongue gently brush
against his, and he saw stars.

Describing how every part of his body was focused on this spinning, dizzying, wonderful sensation was impossible. Not without jumbling thoughts that were currently only tethered to one thing. One person. And everything about him was all Blaine wanted to hold onto. Instead? Blaine let go of the instinctual notion he had to piece together some sense in what he was doing before he made a huge error of judgement. Or pinpoint where in this friendship he started to see Barry as much more but dismissed it repeatedly out of fear of damaging something he now valued. Why did he have to think about any of that? All he found himself ~~wanting~~ needing–in what now seemed like a blur of time since maybe they first met–Barry to have more than a tiny taste and for that shift of gravity that seemed to pool in his stomach in the best sort of way? Barry was giving back. “Barry,” a low and wobbly exhale of his name paused the kiss when Barry cupped his neck and sent a shiver down his spine.

Blaine’s eyes lazily opened halfway to savor the sight of someone needing him, craving more just as badly as he was. A clouded glance flicked up towards Barry’s eyes in the realization and then closed again.

Tips of tongues reconnected-a bare graze that was the embodiment of restraint–and Blaine forgot what air was. Spreading fingers over Barry’s cheek and explored along his hairline–Blaine captured Barry’s wrist with the other hand, melting back to rest his shoulders against the back of the sofa and nudged Barry to come along. Could this man be any more beautiful? He’d never agree to it, but he was. His caress over Barry’s temple lowered, curling around the edge of his chin from underneath and gently nudged downwards to open his mouth. Holding on tenderly, Blaine peeked at Barry’s lips. They were wet and open and waiting because he made them that way. The idea made his heart sing. Fingertips turned white against the bones of Barry’s wrist. His restrain broke. His tentative kiss and taste turned much more desperate, deep enough that all of Barry’s mouth was his to explore. And what he found inside was heaven. With his pulse a racing, pounding thrum in his throat, chest, ears–Blaine could only groan and shift his touch from his cheek to his waist where trembling fingers balled up the hem of Barry’s shirt for something to cling to.

►

texting meme. @inthequiver

send me ► for a text not meant for you

( mssg » wrong # | sent ) Hey, Santana. I need your help. My Dad is getting really angry with me. I won’t tell him who did it. He’s jumped to the conclusion that, yet again, public schools and a gay son who isn’t in the closet aren’t going to work. He thinks I got slushied by one of the kids at McKinley. I’m not correcting him.
( mssg » wrong # | sent ) He probably just wants someone to sue for the medical bills anyway.
( mssg » wrong # | sent ) I haven’t told Kurt but he’s threatening to make me to back to Dalton. I don’t have the nerve to tell him that going back to Dalton isn’t the answer. Obviously. You need to help me come up with a reason why without throwing them under the bus. I know you’d like nothing more than for me to do that but I can’t.

sebastian. barry.

“Sort of? Everything I did was still me doing it, obviously but– Sebastian was just a persona.” Never has he wished alcohol would help him more. The liquid does nothing to ease his nerves and so he hardly touches it while the current amount of anxiety is strumming through his veins. “You can totally leave now if you want and I’ll never bother you again, or- ask questions? Whatever, I know it’s really weird and screwed up.” Weird didn’t begin to cover it. Neither did screwed up, Barry thought. There was a reason he had never told a soul about what he did in high school. As far as any of his current friends or coworkers were concerned, Barry was exactly the same as he is now.

With Blaine though it was not only a matter of how strange and wrong what he had done was, it was a betrayal in friendship. Every personal word Blaine shared, Barry could only meet with half truths at the best. Understandably, he was guilty for that detail on it’s own.

Blaine sat through the rest of Barry’s explanation with a partially open-mouthed look of dumbfounded he didn’t quite catch before he could turn it into something more neutral. An elbow propped up on the countertop and he palmed over his mouth as soon as he felt the heaviness of his expression sink in. One thing was for certain. He didn’t want to take Seb–Barry’s offer to get up and leave. Not when there were so many questions to ask. Certainly not after the minute he realized that so much of him wanted to stay put. It’d been a long time since he last saw this face until the restaurant and now. Despite everything? Turning his back and walking out the door just—he didn’t want to do that.

But there was a lead weight in his stomach, too. He tried to reason with himself in those seconds of utter silence that fell between them where he was just stupidly looking at Barry, that the feeling was only temporary. Something he could get rid of once he had answers. “I don’t want to leave. I really have missed you and it feels so good to see you again.. I–. Our friendship was real. Wasn’t it? The you that I got to know was YOU? How much of it was a persona talking in all the conversations we had and how much was you?” There that was a start. If it made any sense at all.

ѩ / ⨕ / ☢

Yet Another Munday Meme

ѩ – Are there any characters that you love, but simply cannot role play?

I love so many characters I could never pull off. The list could go on forever. I think my top favorite character I could never roleplay of all time would be Hannibal Lecter. I love him so much that I don’t think I could ever do it because I would constantly not feel like I was doing him justice.

ᚡ – Random fact about the mun?, ℳ – Do you think you have a good handwriting?, ⨕ – Are you a jealous role player?

Yet Another Munday Meme

ᚡ – Random fact about the mun?

I’m a theme park/amusement park junkie. I absolutely love them. Even little State Fairs. What I love most are the haunted houses. Especially the cheesy ones that have rickety carts and neon painted figures. I’ll drive out of my way to go to one if it’s nearby just to see what’s inside.