So far it seemed like the two of them were both stumbling over their words, and given their situation it wasn’t all that surprising. Granted, the speedster had also agreed to doing this– although it still didn’t stop him from feeling nervous about it nevertheless. When he had finally spotted Blaine, and settled next to him. His first thought was that this guy was rather cute, and the bowtie thing just added to it in a way. While alcohol might not have any affect on him, that didn’t mean Barry wouldn’t mind a taste. “Sure, a drink sounds good,” he replied with a grin. Although if the other ended up getting drunk, there’s no way Barry would go further than talking though. He’s not an ass. “I could start out asking if you come here often, but that sounds corny, and a pretty bad pick up line,” he lightly joked. Barry ordered a drink for himself, getting it a few moments later, and took a sip. His eyes looking Blaine over, he had tried to do is discreetly, although he got the feeling that the other might have taken notice of it. “I… have to admit I was kind of worried coming here,” he supplied as he chuckled lightly. “This is my first time doing something like this,and you can probably tell.” Barry uttered, rubbing the back of his head a little, and messing with his own hair. The speedster continued to smile, although a little more subtle. “But— kind of glad I came here actually.”
After reminding himself that this didn’t need to go anywhere. That the two of them could simply share a drink or two and go their separate ways–Blaine nursed a few sips from his glass and let the warmth of the liquor fill first his stomach and then move through his veins. It was a calming sensation. One that might give him more courage to sit here and talk with the guy now that it’d already given him enough to dial a random number scribbled on a bathroom wall. Yes, it might be to tell the person their name was plastered inside a stall in one of the most popular bars in New York City..but was it really? A certain level of lonely and booze might’ve been the root cause of it. But. Whatever. They were here–together–now. Might as well not look like a bumbling idiot all night and enjoy having someone to drink with that wasn’t a regular who only knew him because they both came here so much. Or the bartender. Laughing bent his elbow against the counter and lifted his hand to prop the edge of his jaw up–Blaine shrugged and bounced the straw off the pieces of ice the other. “I admit that I was nervous for you to come here. It’s not like I make a habit out of dialing numbers on random stalls,” his breath hitched and he made sure to circle back with a firm, “I don’t. But in the age of a million dating apps? No one ever does that much anymore. I mean–unless you did–in which case,” His smile turned uneven and he rolled his eyes at himself. Deflating–his hand dropped to touch his glass and he grinned down at it. “I’m glad you came here, too.”
“Nah, you weren’t making a fool of yourself! And yeah, that’s true.” When Blaine had kissed Rachel, everyone couldn’t stop talking about it. Puck had just assumed Blaine was gay and then that had happened. He nodded his head. “Yeah, that’s probably true. It’s burned in all of our minds even if we all were totally wasted at the time. It’s funny…We’ve both kissed Rachel Berry and now each other.” He frowned when something dawned on him. “God, we really are like the most incestuous group of friends to ever exist.” He was joking, sort of. It was hard to keep track of everyone’s relationships. He’d realized that the rumor about performing arts kids being horny all of the time was true.
“Incestuous? Really? I’ve hit that level already?” Blaine’s nose scrunched as he spoke–it was hard not to agree with Puck with the stories that Kurt told him about who was with who and who hated who. The New Directions seemed to have changes of heart every other week on who they were in love with. But–hey! He didn’t count, did he? A drunken game of spin the bottle wasn’t supposed to mean anything. And kissing Puck? That was a mistake. Right? If the other would have him believe anything else–it was starting to become overly evident that it was the ONLY way Puck would want to think about their hallway encounter–then maybe this one didn’t either. Or Puck was dead on and he was starting to fall into that trap. “Maybe staying sober the next go round might be a good idea. At least for me,” he laughed helplessly as a splash of red warmed the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. “I should keep my name out of the pool of who’s with who before I end up in a three solo cup refill vodka and cranberry juice nose drive into the deep end?”
Kurt gasped and grabbed Blaine a bit tighter when he gave a wrong step forward, his giggle still present while the man trying to make a point about him not being able to get a hangover. “You say that, honey, but you will. Don’t worry. I’ll be there to make you feel better, yes?” He smiled and kissed his cheek. “I had a wonderful time, and you being there with me made it all better.” He looked around and finally spotted an oncoming taxi, then he raised his hand and snapped his fingers at it, making it stop right in front of them. “Voilá! Here it is, now let’s go home, shall we?” Making sure that Blaine wouldn’t fall again, Kurt led him to the cab and sat him down before he tried to push his legs inside. “Scoot over so I can come in there with you, sweetie?” He chuckled.
Blaine was easily stuffed into the cab and even managed to pick up both feet and scoot them inside just to make Kurt’s life easier. A few wiggles of his hips later and a thunk against the window was followed by peels of blissfully drunken laughter bubbling out of him. “Ouch!” Then a contrast to the complaint–”That should hurt more than it did,” he blurted out while rubbing the side of his head. As soon as Kurt was settled into the cab, the lean against the window became the lean against Kurt’s shoulder. Fingers moved from where they were rubbing the dull throb away to touch the side of Kurt’s cheek and turn his head until they were nose to nose. “You know what I want when I get home…?” Oh the brief pause and the way he looked from Kurt’s eyes to his lips and back could leave so much room to the imagination. “I want to make..” His free hand squeezed Kurt’s hip and gave it a little tug closer. Just to prove his point on how seriously needy he was for..
Blaine laid on his back watching Barry in their makeshift fort. This had to be the most perfect way of bringing in the New Year that his boyfriend could have thought of. He’d been in New York City for several years now and did the Times Square thing, the bar thing. The high class restaurant with boring dinner that nearly put him down for the count out of sleepiness long before the clock ever struck midnight. That was checked off his list thanks to June. A house party with friends? Yeah, he’d done that too and ended up kissing someone he never thought he’d kiss. Which ended up in an awkward way to start that year. No, this was perfect and as far as Blaine was concerned? They could stay here all night.
A soft sigh parts just wettened lips as the kisses move up his jawline. One that hums it’s way into an enamoured laugh once their mouths part. “Happy–,” but he didn’t get the last part out before Barry’s mouth was on his again. Fingers tethered through chestnut hair and bare toes that were just wiggling thanks to the pecks curled in as he lifted his head to make this one last. Yep. Just. Perfect.
They’re all counting, and she’s ninety-eight percent sure that she’s about to get stuck kissing someone at the strike of twelve that a ) she doesn’t like, and b ) wouldn’t want to kiss on a regular day-to-day basis. It’s bad enough that she got dragged out too a party WITHOUT an actual date. Should have stayed at home. ❝ Look, I was a cheerleader, and you seem like an okay kind of person, so if you want to kiss me, I won’t mind. As long as there’s no butt grabbing or FOUL PLAY.
❞
The feeling in the room is becoming a fever pitch of excitement and half drunken howls of laughter. Or not so half drunken. If you look at the faces of several kids Blaine is barely beginning to know with their sparkling eyes and too-wide smiles? The half-drunk line was way passed. Couples were drawing one another in closer as the numbers lowered. 10, 9, 8! The one close friend he has here is nowhere to be seen. 7, 6, 5! A turn around to try and spot Kurt has him bumping into Quinn and he’s barely able to believe what he hears next. 4, 3, and 2 go by but all he hears is her. The irony of no butt grabbing or FOUL PLAY has his nose scrunching as he laughs. They’re the only two alone. The clock isn’t stopping. Who wants to be the only person in the room with no one to kiss? “I promise. No butt touching. None from you either, Quinn.” Blaine winks to earn a smile. It’s silly to make this anything more but a why not?! Nerves tighten his belly but his arm is gentle and careful around her waist when the 1 that is shouted should have made him jump forward. Fingertips touch her cheek and when his lips touch hers–it takes him a moment to close his eyes and press them in firmly. A tilt of his head and he feels how soft they are. The feeling loosens his stomach up far enough to spin it into a whirl, his breath catches and this feels much better than it should.
Barry would be there in seconds flat, so he stalled. And then stalling turned into checking over what he was wearing and that turned into ten minutes of changing clothes over and over, during which Axel came to sit on his bed and give opinions that turned into conversation- and twenty minutes at least have gone by before Barry makes it to the door. He has no idea how long it takes Blaine to get where he was going but he suspects his own timing was either perfect or horrible, as always.
When he gets there he’s still a bit jittery, but he’s not too bad at hiding that. Really he should be better at it by now; he hid his secret identity as a criminal and as the Flash but his nerves were on his sleeve almost every last time. He can’t help but think that was something he missed about Sebastian. The mask wasn’t good for him to keep, but god it was easier in public to never embarrass himself like he does now. Regardless. Once he’s spotted Blaine. Barry tries to shake it all off, making his way over with a bit of a smile on his face. “Hey.”
Halfway into his drink–Blaine’s heels begin to bob against the rungs of his stool nervously. What–exactly–did Sebastian have to tell him that was such a struggle that their conversation was ended so abruptly? In such a cryptic manner, too. If this was a rehash of mistakes made? He wasn’t going to let Sebastian focus on the poor choices he made during high school. As far as he was concerned? They moved past that long before they graduated.
Bringing it up now was just picking at scars that were already faded. Not even close to old wounds. Not when there wasn’t even a wood to be considered. Regardless of his silent questioning–the answer came soon. Hearing Sebastian’s voice–hazel eyes were drawn up and a smile greeted his friend. No matter what Sebastian had to say–it felt good to lay eyes on him and have his company after going so long without. “Hey.” Fingertips moved from the side of his glass and motioned to the seat next to him. “First rounds on me. You know I’m going to ask you what that was about, don’t you? I think that was the first time you ever hung up on me.”
“I am sure they will be on board with it. Between you and me, I feel as if they constantly are trying to prove that they are just as good as I am.” Skylar had always felt as if the other two councilmen were trying a little too hard, he had never asked for all the solos, or the head Warbler position. He was voted those things, and somehow they still saw it as a competition.
“I want nothing more than for us to move past this and focus on the real end goal. A team divided like this cannot succeed. We need to be united.” Skylar hated the fact that even a simple idea can cause such chaos in the group. The change hadn’t even happened and they were already at each other’s throats, more so the council member who continually stole his gavel to bring up insane protests. Bringing his focus back to his coach, Skylar nodded in response to the question. “Of course we do. I speak on behalf of all the Warblers, you have done nothing but support us and let us learn for ourselves, while also guiding us in the correct direction.”
Blaine squinted thoughtfully. He understood the pressure that Skylar was under first hand. But when he was in that spot? Either he was oblivious to the fact that might be happening. Or they were all just in a different mindframe. Whatever it took to win was the name of the game. To perform their best, they put out their best. Just being the so-called embodiment of what the rest of them thought the best was? He loved being what and who he was to the Warblers back then. But it didn’t do much help for restful nights weeks leading up to competitions when the pressure stacked up and all eyes were on you.
Still. They were always there to support him. Lift him up and make him feel good about himself. It was concerning to hear that it might not be the case. Seeing it was one thing. Hearing it from the person in question? That was worrisome. Yet, it should be easy to fix. A matter of distract and focus elsewhere. Like on the current pressing matter of WINNING.
Relief flooded in with Skylar’s reassurance. If he was doing his job correctly so far (in spite of his brain being a muddled mess), then he’d keep pressing forward. “Good. I’m glad. It’s just,” he caught himself and waved off his thoughts. “Not important. What’s important is we get into that room and present the event to the Council. Should we call a meeting now? If you’re comfortable, I’m so on board. First? A coffee break though. Come with me and we’ll iron this out. My treat?”
Jeff had finally settled back into his dorm room after spending the last few days away from campus with his family. He had really enjoyed seeing everyone, but had been looking forward to the solitude that was Dalton and it’s parent and relative free zone. He always felt weird being around his parents when they were home for the holidays, also because it was an election year and his mother had won her seat yet again which means celebrating usually ran from November, thru thanksgiving and into December with her constantly reminding everyone of her platforms and her victory and how her gay son had helped her win the vote. Remembering this fact had him rolling his eyes as he walked through the shared dorm room and into the small bathroom. He had been grateful to come back to an empty room he didn’t need to see Blaine right away and unload his life on the curly haired man. He just needed to shower the Sterling Family Love Fest off of him and put on Dalton Jeff and hide the insanity back in it’s neat little place back in Columbus where it belonged.
Once he’d stripped himself of the sweater, button up, undershirt, belt, Jeans, loafers, boxer briefs and socks he’d stepped into the water that he’d already set a moment earlier. Thankful for the schools heating system he let the hot water spray over him as he adjusted the new shower speaker he’d gotten from his Aunt on his fathers side and let the familiar playlist start to belt out. Using his love for glitter and Ke$ha to cleanse himself of the weekend he’d had.
Blaine debated spending the entirety of his Christmas break at Dalton. There were students who were staying through the vacation that he thought could use the company. Being around friends was far more appealing. Judging from examples from recent years–Christmas could go several (but mostly one of two) ways. At another of his parents associate Christmas parties. Which meant reassuring his mother that things were perfect over and over and her never agreeing to the last minute. Then his father would fly in two days beforehand. There would be an awkward silence between them that made the house feel like it never could heat up enough where it was once warm and comfortable. That’d only lead to him focusing on how wrong it was to feel that cold around someone who was supposed to be the opposite. But there was always his brother to look forward to.
Or, it could be like last year. When Cooper was ‘contracted’ to film a social experiment inside local Los Angeles malls, the dinner was held at another location and he opted to stay home and not tell Cooper his parents were gone.
In the end–he left Thursday and was back that Tuesday when Cooper flew home and dropped Blaine off to ring in the New Year with his Dalton classmates. He’d just excused himself to dash up to his room and grab some music when he walked into the sound of water running through the pipes and the hum of Jeff’s singing filling the room. Jeff was back! A broad smile lit up his features as he leaned on the wall beside the door and spoke loud enough for his roommate to hear. “Hey. Just letting you know I’m here. Welcome back. How was your Christmas? Nice song choice, by the way. I’d give you an A plus.”
While trying to give his fiancé as much support as he could, Kurt couldn’t help but laugh as the man’s state, thinking that he was awfully cute, and also thankful that he was a happy drunk and not a gross one. Plus, it had been a night to celebrate so he wasn’t about to begrudge him about that, but just ride it along with him until hangover would strike. “Baby, I’m confident that it’s a bit more than just that tiny bit. Now, let’s get home and get you plenty of water and some aspirin for that mighty headache you will soon have.” He looked around to see if he could spot a taxi on the streets.
The hold he had on Kurt slipped from being looped under one arm and over the taller man’s shoulder down to his waist. Why? So his head could rest against it instead. That’s why! Blaine’s eyes were bright, full of the drunken overly-chuckle happy buzz he was gazing up at Kurt in admiration with. There was nothing more beautiful than Kurt’s laugh. Has he told him that lately? Better fix it if not. “I love it when you laugh. Even if it’s at my expense,” a dramatic pout complete with scrunchy face and jutted out lip followed. Though it only lasted as long as a stumbled step and his fist clutching onto Kurt’s coat. “Hangover? No,” his free hand motioned in the negative with a wave, “I refuse.” Could he will a hangover away? Probably not. Worth a try! “Did you have fun? I did.” Way too much fun. Where were all the cabs anyway?
barry.
( mssg » blaine | sent ) So I’m either predictable or you know me really well already. For future reference, I’m always up this late, no matter what the weather’s like. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) I wanna agree on the counterproductive thing, but… If you look at the time, I’d say the chance of us getting any sleep any time soon’s kinda out the window by now. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) Any of those sounds great right now. I would offer some of the eggnog we’ve got left at my place, but… you’ll probably get the buzz of your life after two sips. I’m pretty sure the lady who drew up the original recipe for that was a semi-alcoholic. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) Unless, you know, something’s the matter and you could use a buzz. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) I mean, not that I want you to get drunk, I’m not trying to get you drunk. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) Hey, look, I made it awkward too!
( mssg » barry | sent ) I’m so glad I didn’t wake you up. Another night owl, too, huh? ( mssg » barry | sent ) Yeah. I doubt sleep is going to be happening if it hasn’t already. You’re right. I guess we can scratch that out. ( mssg » barry | sent ) No, no! I get why you are offering it! Ha! Thank you. Sounds like a great idea. The eggnog and the buzz, I mean. Just sort of hit that late Christmas night quiet. If that makes sense? ( mssg » barry | sent ) This isn’t that awkward. We could try to cancel out each other’s awkwardness by upping our own levels of strange? ( mssg » barry | sent ) Is that a thing? It should be. Meet you there then? Would you like me to bring anything to offset the firebreath inducing egg nog? Homemade cookies maybe?
pianokeysandbowties 