Once the words are out, they’re out. No take-backs. All he can do is HOPE that Blaine takes it well and man, Blaine doesn’t disappoint. It’s like his offer came with its own gravitational pull, drawing the guy in until their foreheads are touching; their lips. Can barely even be considered a kiss and Sam’s heart is POUNDING; tries not to take over, tries to let Blaine call the shots, but he’s so busy thinking about pushing into the kiss and making it real that he almost doesn’t realise Blaine’s talking into his mouth.
Are you sure? A valid question, but he thinks he’s made himself pretty clear. Hasn’t wavered, hasn’t hesitated. The invitation came out easy as breathing in the end, all confident and certain. Even if he did have doubts, Blaine’s reaction would’ve sealed the deal. Practically shaking, breathing like he’s only just learning HOW TO — blows Sam’s mind that someone could want him that much, that they haven’t even done anything yet and Blaine’s already acting like he’s overwhelmed with NEED.
“Wouldn’t’ve said it if I wasn’t sure.”
He presses his lips against Blaine’s more firmly now, and this — this is a kiss. Chaste, simple, but not a slight catch of the corners, not just hovering against each other. A kiss. He’s kissing his best friend and Blaine’s hands are keeping him close and he doesn’t have a single regret. Legs are like a wall between them though, a BARRIER keeping Blaine at a distance, and that needs to be remedied.
So he spreads them, plants his feet on either side of Blaine and lets his knees fall sideways, creates a space and opens himself up like an OFFERING. Brings a hand up to cup Blaine’s jaw, to pull him in, and as he tilts his head to kiss him better, he thinks: how could anyone not be sure about this?
Their lips meet and seal words that his entire soul was hinging on. And, oh, the way Sam’s mouth tasted as he dared to run the tip of his tongue between the other’s lips was beyond any words. A flavor he’d been starving for without ever truly thinking that his hunger would be indulged. So long he’d been tossing and turning at night, aching for the chance to sample it just once. Always going to bed, frustratedly panting to catch his breath after sinking into some fantasy to get him by.
Always alone and whimpering his friend’s name into the pillow bit between his tet=eth to muffle his cries. Even in an empty house, making the noises he made while thinking about SAM felt sinful, beyond any lines of the friendzone he’d been put in that he felt he needed to hide them just to be able to look Sam in the eye the next morning. Until..this.
“Sam.. You’re…” Beautiful.
Blaine moved with him, his chest sinking as he watched in awe as Sam opened his legs up for him to fit between. A rock in one’s throat should never feel as good as this one did as he swallowed it down and followed the movements. Rocking up onto his knees, one hand feathered through the top of Sam’s hair to slide his fingers into the back spilling yellow and gold between olive lengths.
Closer and closer–his free hand braced the cap of Sam’s right knee. Holding on and keeping Sam perfectly in place in the process. A deeper taste and Blaine let go a moan that wasn’t suffocated against a pillowcase as he pressed the weight of his body, chest to chest, against Sam’s. A smile broke their lips apart so Blaine could trail his up to the shell of the blond’s ear. “Lay back for me, Sam.” His feathery touch drifted along the inside of Sam’s leg, down and down but not quite thereyet. Fingertips pressed gently against his best friend’s scalp, teeth grazed along a delicate earlobe. “Please?” He’d worship him if Sam allowed it. Savor every texture, every breath, every taste or sound he could get out. All Sam had to do was let him.
“I don’t remember who asked me. It wasn’t a warbler though, probably someone who likes them though.” Duran was still grinning, smile only growing upon seeing how flustered Blaine was starting to look. “It was tons of fun though. I wish you’d have been there. Pretty sure half the warblers were taking pictures, and I think some of them started singing. I honestly wasn’t paying attention.” Well, he was. He was paying enough attention to know Blaine wasn’t in the room at the time of this happening. Honestly, Duran would do it again even without a bribe, after checking to make sure Blaine was with the other Warblers. He didn’t know why he had a compulsive need to show off, since he was almost sure Blaine returned his affections, but Duran still liked the thrill of making him blush.
“Someone who likes them? I’d hope so. Don’t you think it’d be rather weird if–,” Blaine stopped mid-sentence when the fog lifted and ‘I wish you’d have been there’ caught up. “I–I wish I’d would’ve got the chance to watch.” Well. That was a sentence you could read novels into! Blaine kept on like he didn’t realize how it could’ve been taken. “Them chipping in with a song doesn’t surprise me. Of course they would.” Blaine grinned just shy of the laughter that had him pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He could practically feel the heat from his cheeks radiating against the inside of his palm. Just then, from behind them, a soft gasp could be heard from a freshman who stared at the penis tree like it was both confusing and terrifying. The two of them got a look of complete baffled disbelief before the younger boy scurried off and Blaine’s mouth gaped open in his wake. His lopsided grin and jab of his elbow against Duran’s side said it all. “Great. I swear. If he’s going to get a teacher? You better tell them I’m an innocent bystander. How about plausible denial? We could be gone by the time they get here–if they are coming—and leave them wondering where we went off to?”
Elliott couldn’t help that little bit of relief when Blaine initiated the kiss, the overwhelming rush that this was what he wanted, what they BOTH wanted.
One of his hands moved to Blaine’s neck, cupping somewhere between his cheek and neck – God knows where exactly his hand was, Elliott was hardly thinking about it – chasing his lips as Blaine pulled back.
His wish was more than answered when Blaine came back to him again, a slight upturn of lips when Elliott got what he wanted. He wasn’t smug exactly, more along the lines of disbelief and a vague question of if he was just dreaming this entire encounter. Elliott tipped his head to the side, letting teeth graze against Blaine’s bottom lip as he pulled back and took a moment to just ADMIRE the other, from his red stained cheeks to plump lips that Elliott knew were his fault. It suited Blaine.
Feeling Elliott’s hand touching his skin so lightly that it would be tickling him if it weren’t for the press of their mouths together turning the sensation into something that made every nerve dance happily underneath it’s spell. His hand on Elliott’s hip squeezed more firmly. An effort to keep himself standing when his knees wobbled and he swayed closer until their chests touched and brought him to a stop.
Teeth over his bottom lip earned a small groan and a crinkling of Blaine’s eyebrows together. It felt good. He would have asked him to do it again if it wasn’t for him realizing he was the only one still in the same position they were during the kiss. Head turned up, some weight centered on the balls of his feet for height’s sake. Elliott’s stare and the weight of it finally tugged him conscious enough to notice. With a catch of his upper lip with the tip of his tongue–he lowered himself back down and stared up at Elliott speechless and breathing quick. “I–uhm–. Wow..” Did he just say wow? That’s it? Wow? What was next? Golly? Jeez? How high could he turn up the volume on the idiot control? Smooth. Real smooth.
Sebastian scoffed, and rolled eyes, though his lips were curled in humor. “If you don’t know how saying shit like ‘we have to talk’, and ‘can i ask you something?’ is creepy, then I can’t help you, my friend.” He shook his head. “A deal’s a deal.” He shrugged when Blaine said he’d been creepy in turn, brushing his eyes to make sure they were clean as he opened them again with a sleepy frown, getting another large bite on his eclair and sighing when the heavenly beep of his coffee machine being done, echoed in the tiles. “Finally.” He bit his lip softly at the way it felt when Blaine’s hand slipped from his knee, but smelled the coffee in and let himself relish on the fact that very soon he’d be sipping on something warm and comforting to help give his strained muscles some energy and improve his pounding head. “Really should’ve got a new hungover aid kit.” He mumbled. What a day to run out of advil.
“But boxed deliciousness have everything a man needs for a healthy meal.” He pointed out, eyebrows risen, gesturing and eating as he explained. “It’s got cream, milk, eggs, you could say bread, it’s practically a whole breakfast in itself, not to say you could consider them big stuffed sausages.” He smiled, poking Blaine back as he poked him about his empty pantry. “My fridge’s very well stoked, thank you very much.” Said fridge had in it frozen pizza, some yogurt he used to take before his run, and a couple of boxes of take out from the day before. “There’s fresh Italian.” Sebastian was surprised when Blaine not only brought him coffee, but brought it ready to go. He didn’t think he’d remember. He took the mug gratefully taking a long hard sip and sighing into the warm steam, feeling it soothe the ache in his brain. He hummed at Blaine’s comment but didn’t answer, unsure of what to even say. He knew Blaine worried about him because well, he was BLAINE, not for any other special reason. That chance he’d got and lost a long time ago. “Mmh?” He asked, already half forgetting Blaine had had something to ask at all. He raised eyes at him, and pressed eyebrows for a moment, wondering where Blaine was going with it.
He swallowed at Blaine’s pause, trying to understand what was taking the boy so long to say it. His eyes lingered on Blaine’s lips as they kept still, the mug cooling in his hand, forgotten. When he finally said it, Sebastian stirred, before straightening himself at how serious Blaine looked. “Is that what you wanted to ask me?” He asked, confused. Had he done something awful? Had he been inappropriate? He licked his lips nervously. “Did I do something?” There was something. Something inside him that kept him glancing at Blaine’s lips and he screwed his eyebrows as he wasn’t sure WHY.
“If that’s what you call that? You need a refresher on what a balanced diet is but–.. That’s a start. Coffee’s not a real food, yeah, but it should be and I’ll let it be enough for now,” his chin inclined towards the coffee while mulling over his question and trying to erase the sudden uncomfortable silence during the awkward moments of him asking it and Sebastian letting the words sink in. If the room fell quiet for a second? Blaine was afraid he’d back out of there before Sebastian had a chance to get one word out. Let alone give the question the reply it deserved. Whether Blaine regretted asking it or not. Sweaty palms cupped his own mug thankful for the chance that the heat might dry them before they got worse. A thundering heart probably didn’t need the caffeine but he was grateful it was there. If for no other reason than to serve the purpose of drowning himself in it if the next five minutes blew up in his face.
The green inside Sebastian’s eyes was always one of Blaine’s secret favorite shades of the color. Too far past any sort of amicable friendzone they were in to bring it up—ever—Blaine stared at the strange mix of light forest and emerald greens blended together. The olive tone of his skin bled out of his knuckles as he squeezed the poor mug harder. “Yeah–I mean–I guess I did,” he wasn’t sure how low his voice could ever get before he heard it reverberate inside his ears. Was that a whisper? Or a breath of a sentence that you just say and hope the other one doesn’t hear? Either way–he watched how Sebastian’s attention kept moving over his face. A subtle switch of attention watchful eyes caught. Because that’s how Blaine worked. He could be clueless and miss a lot of things that were aimed at him. But when it really mattered? When he was the one that was hinging on something he did? Or noticed? Or needed to know? Then, he rarely missed a thing about the person subjected to his watchful scrutiny. Years of being around people (including himself) who were quick to cover up what was really going because they were too afraid to voice it and his needing to make the root cause better honed the skill of empathy seeded in him ages ago into the exact look that Sebastian was under.
Sebastian didn’t remember. The muscles in his throat struggled visibly to swallow the previous night never once stopped being a blur to his friend. Not even for that. “Oh–oh.” Thick, black eyelashes fluttered and Blaine stuttered a breath or two. Or four. “No. No. You didn’t do anything. I mean–you were really drunk and it was amusingly messy getting you home but no.” Blaine and lying blended about as gracefully as oil and water but you couldn’t blame him for trying. A knee jerk reaction to the idea that maybe it was better this way. Maybe if Sebastian forgot? Then he was meant to forget. What would it to to them if he found out? Probably just make things distant between them again. Or break them away from each other for good. Unable to really look Sebastian in the eye until he glued together his blabbering brain–Blaine jerkily moved to fill an already full coffee cup with a refill he didn’t need. “Sorry. I don’t know where I was going witht hat. I forgot.”
For all of forty-eight hours, Kurt Hummel had not been able to keep himself from smiling. It had been a Thursday, late summer, and after many months spent waking up alone and sharing their lives vicariously through calls, texts and video chats after their engagement, Blaine had finally, too, made it safely and once and for all to the Big Apple. What once may have been considered a silly high school fantasy shared between two teenagers had officially finally been turned into a reality, and, a few minor less desirable details (such as living together with Rachel Berry and in a place much like Bushwick) aside, so far proven to exceed even their wildest expectations as Kurt had helped his fiancé settle in into their now shared loft apartment and made sure to welcome Blaine into the city happily and with nothing but open arms.
This morning, again, however, Kurt had woken up only to find the other side of the bed once again nothing but completely deserted; a strange sense of déjà vu almost immediately washing over him before soon enough once again relaxing at the near immediate sight of still unopened boxes standing quietly on the opposite side of his makeshift bedroom. “Blaine?” Kurt sleepily called out, pulling away what was left of the duvet covers as he quickly straightened himself up in his position on the bed before briefly checking his own reflection in the bedside mirror. “I thought we’d agreed to leave the rest of the final unpacking until at least after Saturday lunchtime,” he continued, unsure as to whether he was even going to be getting any response from him and treading ever so lightly as he pulled away the bedroom’s curtains and peered into the living room.
“… are those pancakes?”
Finally. He was home. With Kurt. And their always was only just truly beginning. The boxes stacked in the corner that they were too busy just having each other to finish unpacking were proof that–this time–he was here for good. But the most important, physical proof of that was waking up two days in a row to the steady, warm breaths of the love of his life ghosting across his forehead and cheek. The warmth of Kurt’s body held maybe a little on the too snug side that didn’t seem to bother the beautiful man beside him one bit in his slumber was his anchor to remind him he wasn’t dreaming anymore and this was real. Blaine lingered there against him for so long he almost dozed off until he remembered why he was awake so early.
One thing he promised himself was to make up for so much waiting that each morning would start perfect. Just how he imagined. A sleepy eyed Kurt with bed head and too much adorableness for someone so early in the morning would be greeted with the smells of coffee and a breakfast that he’d make sure was just right. And, without further ado, there he was. The sound of Kurt’s voice drew Blaine’s attention from where he was setting down a second stack of pancakes four high just like the one beside it. “No unpacking. Promise..” Hazel eyes were round and quizzitive as he took in the sight he was waiting for and fell in love all over again. “You bet they are but..I couldn’t pick just one kind so I made two. Raspberry and lemon..and..um. Sit down? Everything’s ready..” Now it was time for him to lose a little bit of his composure and stand there grinning like the lovesick fool he wasn’t the slightest bit ashamed of being.
Barry was actually glad he finally had an excuse to get out of bed. Few things were as uncomfortable as being in bed knowing for a fact he wouldn’t be getting any sleep, for there would always come a point when everything would bother him; he would either feel too cold or too hot, or couldn’t for the life of him find a position he was finally comfortable with, not to mention it was common knowledge one’s mind took advantage of that kind of opportunities to either remind one of moments they spend every single day of their lives trying to forget, or coming up with life-changing ideas that would disappear at the light of dawn.
He got the eggnog out of the fridge so it wouldn’t be too cold by the time it was served, opening the cabinet to reach for two mugs. “For real?” he sighed, for there were nothing but Christmas-themed mugs as far as the eye could see, all consequence of how oddly excited Joe got when it came to decorating the house for the holidays. Reluctantly, he settled for a Rudolph and a Santa shaped ones and hoped that Blaine would somehow find it quaint.
Blaine stood in front of the mirror adjusting his cardigan and grinning goofily at his reflection. Texting Barry was on a whim–half thinking that the man would be asleep and wake up in the morning wondering if Blaine was crazy for being up this late (on Christmas nonetheless). Or what he got into befriending an insomniac weirdo who thought it was okay to toss someone a random hello past midnight just because he couldn’t sleep. But the slim chance the opposite would happen, the one Blaine hoped for–happened. And after a quiet day of random texts and phone calls that made his apartment feel even emptier–he had somewhere to be and someone waiting for him to get there.
Not wasting any more time–the singer decided that the outfit he threw on (and changed once) was okay for a two in the morning junk food binge visit, grabbed the cookies he baked earlier and dashed out to catch his cab. Giddy energy danced in his eyes the entire trip until the taxi stopped–no doubt to the relief of the driver who had his ear talked off in spite of grunts, hums and nods being the only part of the conversation he added. Mainly, thanks to Blaine not shutting up about how excited he was and ‘I didn’t sound weird–did I? Do you think? I mean–people do that all the time. Not really but–you get my point?’ before a healthy tip was shoved into his hand and Blaine disappeared up the steps practically bouncing on his heels when he came to the door and gave it a knock.
Oh god, Blaine was so god damn adorable. Elliott just – he couldn’t care less that this was a bad idea and how angry he knew Kurt would be, or the judging glares he knew he’d get from the girls: even the lectures he knew were coming from Dani didn’t matter.
Elliott didn’t wait to see if Blaine wanted to say anything else, just smiling right back with a look like he’d just seen the sun after a thunderstorm.
Elliott moved forwards gently, tilting his head to one side and looking at Blaine from under his eyelashes, their lips not quite touching yet by millimetres at most. Checking Blaine wanted this, wanted ELLIOTT, that he wouldn’t back out or was just saying it was okay. Every little insecurity Elliott felt, all pushing through because this wasn’t a random guy at a bar anymore.
This was BLAINE.
A silent prayer breathed through parted lips that the tip of his tongue peeked out to wetten.
–Just; kiss me. Hazel eyes were drawn to Elliott’s lips. His stare lingered there as he felt the temperature in his face and neck blaze to an inferno. Was he blushing? No idea. Not that he cared to pay it much mind if he was. Not right now. Without realizing–his hand relaxed completely in the taller man’s grip.
Letting go of the what if’s–Blaine let himself free fall into the velvet skin of Elliott’s lips against his unsure if he was the one who stole the last breath shared between them or Elliott was.
It didn’t matter. Not when that line was crossed, drawn with a small pull back so Blaine could flick a dazed glance at the place on Elliott’s mouth that he just made glisten, then crossed again when he captured it and this time left no room to doubt that this was what he wanted.
it’s a funny story;; one he isn’t quite SURE how to relay. instead, hartley allows himself an IDLE moment to think, allow the whole amiable, good – natured BUDDY vibe to settle between them. just throw it out there, rathaway, what’s the WORST that could possibly happen?? ❛ WELL. as it just so happens, i have to go to this little country club charitydinner on friday and i’m short a plus one. ❜ significant, considering his parents have been concerned about his lack of PEERS as of late——–
❛ what do you say?? everything will be on ME. ❜
Did Hartley just ask him out on a date? Blaine blinked–eyes combing over Hartley’s for a moment as he sat his stirrer off to the side. A warm rush of heat spread over the bridge of his nose. “I–.” It was just a question. Simple enough to answer. Because–of course–his answer would be.. “Are you–? I’d love to. Of course. Yes.” He quickly pressed the edge of a fingernail into his palm in an effort to get the pitched tone of his voice under control. “I know how BORING those things can be without someone around to talk to. First hand experience. And it’s awful,” he grinned trying harder to hide how secretly excited he suddenly was at the idea. Though, of course, he had to burrow his brows together and blurt out something awkward to break the secret right after. “It’s a date,” he hummed before stopping mid-thought and lifting up a hand motioning like he was trying to erase the last three words before Hartley was offended or thought he read too much into it. “I mean–I didn’t–you know. Figure of speech? Um.. Yeah.”
Despite the things he hadn’t fully expected, and the process it took to get this far, he didn’t have any doubts. Regrets? Maybe that he didn’t tell anyone anything other than he was with a friend that they didn’t know. Maybe that he didn’t end things with Blaine before leaving- only to keep him from holding on to someone keeping secrets and changing like Kurt had. The question caught him off a little bit, though he’s not sure why it would.
“Yeah. I can’t say I recommend it or anything, but I’m happy. Besides,” Lightening the tone to the best of his ability, Kurt sat back and sipped his coffee. “I think we both knew I was always meant to be powerful.” He jokes. Eyes turned back to his plate to pick another bite onto his fork, soft smile turning into a grin as he says, “And who knew being dead would make me feel more alive.” Another joke but maybe not the best one. Oliver would laugh at it, but that just goes to show how much time they’ve spent together if Kurt was making jokes like him.
Careful what you ask for. What you get might not be exactly what you want. And here we are. Blaine digested the answer with the nod and a smile in spite of the fact that what Kurt said was, deep down, what he wanted to hear. “That’s great! I’m glad you are. You were meant to be something big. I’ll always agree to that.” But? At surface was greedy enough to wish that some form of regret would tint Kurt’s reply with the opposite. Kurt being happy was all that truly mattered to him. And if Kurt was happy? More alive? Then he was going to have to deal with that. Regardless of the fact that he might not bewasn’t.
Okay! Enough question and answer! Blaine finished up the last of his breakfast and tip toed off the counterstool and landed on the balls of his feet with a light bounce. “That was amazing. Thank you,” a gentle squeeze to Kurt’s shoulder and he gathered up his plate. His mug was taken along for the ride back to the sink for a pitstop back at the coffee machine. After the abrupt awakening? He could definitely use more than just one. “Can I get you another?” And the transition away from the topic was nearly complete. All he had to do was wait for Kurt to let it happen. “A lot’s changed since you’ve been here last,” that was better than saying you left. “I feel like I should catch you up but it’s pretty boring in comparison. I’m sure.”
Santana huffed at his persistence, but at least she stopped yelling. That probably wasn’t helping her case in the least bit. “Having emotions is so embarrassing.” The complaint was truly how she felt, but she couldn’t help but faintly smile at how ridiculous it sounded. Blaine was always good at bringing out her best side. “I know. You’ve made that painfully clear. I’m just not like you. I don’t get to talk about how I feel all the time. It’s hard for me. Kinda seems like you’ve taken a page from my book though. So we’re both in an emotional rut… Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be there for each other. It’s just my freaking instinct that makes me push people away, but I can try to open up. If that’s what you wanted…”
Pinching his bottom lip between his teeth–Blaine kept his stare down at his wrists peeking out from his knees where he stowed away his hands between them. Shoulders hitched and he snuck a peek at her, wary and not wanting to put too much on her shoulders when she had enough weight there with her own feelings. Two seconds ago–he was begging her to talk. To lean on him. Not just to support her. But in that support–there was a counter lean where she’d be his, too. But he wanted to be careful. He was always careful with her. Because so few people in her life ever really were. Only when he was sure he wasn’t forcing her to talk to him–a few words that slipped past her lips were confirmation of that in her own unique way of saying she might let herself need him–Blaine freed a hand and offered it to her rather than stand up. It was a please but a means of letting her back out one last time if she deeply wanted to. “We don’t even necessarily have to talk? We could just sit here and that’d be fine with me. Whatever you want just,” he glanced at his hand and back to her. “If that’s okay?”
pianokeysandbowties 