( mssg » killer 🍑 🍑 🍆 | sent) Just come out when you’re ready Blaine. ( mssg » killer 🍑 🍑 🍆 | sent) No rush. I know how hard it can be to get dressed when you were naked beforehand. ( mssg » killer 🍑 🍑 🍆 | sent) I mean, what? Yeah no I totally believe that you were wearing PJs before.
( mssg » sebastian | sent ) I wasn’t naked! ( mssg » sebastian | sent ) Yeah! Sure. Uh huh! ( mssg » sebastian | sent ) I’m on my way!
Blaine finishes the last touches on curls that barely wanted to be contained since he’d was in bed for nearly an hour before Sebastian’s arrival. Stray curls ran along his forehead, threatened to drop free from where he tried to slick them back with a bit of water to no real avail. Sebastian refused to come inside. He didn’t want him waiting any longer than he was already. A pair of red boat shoes are put on with a few hops between to speed things up. His Dalton hoodie goes over his head and grey v-neck next. Further shaking his hair free but this time unnoticed as he shoves his wallet into the pocket of his jeans.
Outdoor sconces light up the large Westerville Estate with all it’s windows dark except the amber glow of the desk lamp he left on in an upstairs window of the house
that seems mutely still and too pristine to be lived in. A stark contrast the projection of warmth and sunshine that the boy who lives inside of it exudes daily. Mustard yellow, crimson and brown plaid blanket in hand from a pit stop in the living room where the last of a fire was burning down–Blaine closes the front doors and jogs down the stairs waving as he approaches the car.
His free hand pulls open the door and Blaine ducks inside.
An ear to ear–even if it’s a lil bit sleepy–cheeky grin greets his visitor. “I have to ask,” his gaze darts in a mystified glance over Sebastian’s eyes, “Not that I mind. But. What on Earth made you want to come here this late?”
Every movement performed by the Warbler didn’t go unnoticed by Connor.
It was almost like he was watching one of those BBC documentaries about the animal kingdom. When a predator picked it’s prey and slowly approached in for the kill. Connor was the predator and Blaine was that sweet adorable deer in whom he was about to sink his teeth in. The way he looked at him was curious. Almost endearing. Trying to read past his initial movements while seeking to keep some distance between them until Blaine could evaluate the true purpose of him being there. Was he that blind? Couldn’t he realize the effect he had on other people? How attractive he was? Connor’s head tilted once more, his eyes scanning down Blaine’s frame and getting him undressed in his mind. Picturing how handsome he would look bending over that piano, moaning his name in that musical tone he used while practicing with the Warblers.
“Don’t tell me I’m making you nervous, Samwise Gamgee.”
Another step forward followed by another and Connor reduced the distance between them in a couple of steps so that he could be close to Blaine. He could see him perfectly now. See how tense he was due to that approach. He could feel the scent of his cologne, see the spark of curiosity behind those big, brown eyes. Definitely attractive. No wonder there was so many people after him. And his ass? Uff – He had an ass for days and Connor simply wanted to touch it. Taste it. Bang it. And what Connor Walsh wanted – he usually got.
“Connor Walsh. Transferred student.” Connor knew he could at least introduce himself. As for the other question – maybe he could give Blaine a preview of his problem. “It’s a rather problematic issue. You see…”Connor smiled his most dashing smile as he reached out to take one of Blaine’s hands onto his own, touching his knuckles ever so gently without ceasing the eye contact. Those were really pretty eyes. And he did had an handsome face. And he was hot all around. “This problem I have? You are partially responsible for it.” Their faces were closer now and Connor couldn’t prevent a grin from forming on his lips as he placed Blaine’s hand against his crotch. There was where the hard issue was. All eight inches of it. “Think you can take care of this problem, Yoda? It’s your fault it had became this hard and… unbearable.”
This pulse began to quicken. Faster and faster. It rushed through his veins in a frantic, dizzying pace. Louder and louder until it was a deafening thunder in his ears. He barely heard Connor calling him another Tolkien reference as a dry tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. Blaine forced a swallow and ran the roughness of it back and forth over the ridges of his gums to wet it again. His breathing turned shallow–stopped–and then purposefully filled his lungs in an agonizingly slow inhale. His refusal to shift his feet even an inch sending one message while the throbbing vein running up the curve of his neck said something quite the opposite.
Finally one toe to heel step backwards.
He never felt so under the microscope as he did when Connor’s gaze moved down his body yet again. Without a single care whether or not he noticed. They both knew he would. Connor wanted him to. Didn’t he?
Polished onyx stopped him. No room to move and Connor was too close for a step sideways. A frustrated glance down at his reflection in the mirror-like surface. “Problematic,” he asked with a flick his attention back to Connor. The moment his hand was taken sent chills up his arm. Blaine wished he could’ve kept his mouth shut as a shudder danced along his spine. Lips parted and he stared into Connor’s eyes not daring to look away. Considering where his first instinct to look was. A grin spread like the Cheshire Cat’s–slow and knowing–over Connor’s mouth. “I’m responsible? I haven’t done…” There was a slickness over Connor’s bottom lip. Blaine could almost taste the flavor of it. “Anything…”
A movement, the press of an unmistakably hard length against his palm. The world tilted sideways, fire splashed from his stomach and ran all the way to his feet where toes curled against the soles of his shoes. Fingers twitched and curled inward along Connor’s problem. “Oh…,” not able to see much between them with one glance down, Blaine bit through the way Connor’s problem was becoming his own problem and pulled whatever willpower he had to press his lips together and then curve them into a smile. Long lengths straightened out leaving his palm in place as he whispered words he could barely believe he mustered up. Through a furious blush he hated himself for having, they came. “I don’t see why this is my fault and–I’m pretty sure you can take care of it one handed. I doubt my help is necessary at all.”
Remy stilled at that whispered words as his head turned back to stare over at the boy as he left. A little smile on his face as he ducked his head. A compliment like that was the way to Remy’s heart. and it was’nt quite the compliment he’d been expecting from the other. Remy brushed any thoughts of how Blaine would look under the spray of his shower, those broad shoulders or his perfect ass and instead tried to focused on his art, leaning over the counter as he dipped his brush into the paint and started to draw it along the canvas. The pink haired boy dropped the brush to fix his long hair as the other walked out of the shower, his eyebrow arched as he noticed those old sweatpants. He’d seen his brother wear them enough times to know what they were but he did’nt say anything about them. He was silent as he watched Blaine admiring his art, his own eyes soaking in the others strong features and the way he looked with wet hair. “A better grade? Now I know you’re flattering me. Besides, art can’t be graded. That’s just some school bullshit. Art is…something that makes you feel.” He said lightly as he tapped the end of the paint brush against the canvas. “You’re not bothering me…” He said lightly as he pressed his lips together. “In fact…how about you model for me? You can lay on the couch…And I’ll draw you?” He said as he rounded the table. “You can even take off your shirt for me.” He teased as a hand reached out to pluck at the others shirt. “You can inspire some art.”
“Unfortunately? That school bullcrap is something I still have to go through the ringer for while paying a hefty price to be thoroughly wrung,” Blaine laughed and hoisted his shoulders in a shrug. “Crappy how that works out, huh? You pay them big bucks to make you wonder what the heck you’re doing with your life and how much of a stamina you can have against torture.” He was a performer and a musician and a writer. A painter? Not so much. Looking down at what he held in his arms–Blaine gave it another squeeze and glanced back up with a relieved smile when Remy let him know he wasn’t annoying him. The pillow was getting warmer against his chest and the threadbare shirt that he loved even though it hung a little loose on his frame was comforting and perfect. One of the reasons why being here always felt so good. Remy being here was new though. Maybe the familiarity of the face watching him made this feel easier. Or Remy was naturally easy to be near. Either way? He liked the company. Blaine double blinked and his lips parted like he was about to ask if Remy was serious. Model for him? Stunned–the pillow hit the floor and he didn’t bend to pick it up as the pink haired painter came closer. He was fresh out of a shower, not anywhere near put together and Remy wanted him to pose? “I..,” he flushed a few shades of pink. Make that pose topless–okay then. “I’m not sure what kind of art I can inspire wearing your brother’s old lounge pants and shower hair–,” he felt his stomach swirl with the pluck to his shirt. Was it weird that it didn’t feel bad? Quite..the opposite. “I don’t know. You might just end up wishing you stuck to painting once this–,” his eyes darted up to indicate his hair, “starts becoming a tangled, curly mess?”
“It’s not the most ideal considering Madison wouldn’t be able to go to Dalton with me,” he explained quietly, clearing his throat and glancing around the room to avoid confronting how awful he felt. He muttered about how ‘he was sure some people would make a huge deal about Madison not going if Mason went and then muttered more about transphobic assholes under his breath. – && Mason never cursed, but this situation just made him want to even more. He hated people that made him uncomfortable.
“Don’t get me wrong, B– I love this school, I do. I have Titan pride all the way through and through and I love the New Directions but at times it can be unbearable. Between the hockey jerks– er, excuse me jocks and even Coach Sue, I’m just getting…” he sighed and slumped into an empty desk. “I’m getting tired of it all. I just want a place where at least I feel I’m going to be listened to if I speak up about an issue. Here since Coach Sue has the majority of the power due to the Cheerios and their boosters, I’ll just be digging myself a bigger grave and everyone knows it.”
Glancing at the other, the brunet ran his hands through his hair and ruffled it up a bit. “I haven’t even told Madison I’m thinking about transferring. She’ll flip.” It just felt so suffocating around McKinley sometimes.
Blaine heard the mumbles from some students about Mason. None of the ones who didn’t understand seemed to want to make many strides to try to. Not all. But most. Most in the way that it borderlines on all but what else can anyone expect from McKinley? Where just as you think you make leaps and bounds on being accepted? Someone armed with a slushie and a bevvy of words that are sure to make you want to crawl into a hole and never come out comes along to take that progress and shove it down your throat with the bitter pill of intolerance.
He just wasn’t sure if this school was ready to be like Dalton.
And it was a horrible thought but he was fairly certain that the student body as a whole–not his friends and a few more enlightened others or outcasts of different degrees–were up to the challenge. He’d love to say they were making a difference. Maybe they were. But it’d be a long, long time in the making. Then there were kids like Mason. Who were put through hell and still could unblinkingly say that they had pride for the very place that hurt them over and over. Those were the people that’d change this school. Someday.
Moments like this made Blaine ache for Dalton. He didn’t ‘regret’ his–now two time–choice and he wouldn’t stay it out loud if he did. The New Directions would probably go back to being suspicious that he was ready to leave at the drop of a hat. Mason though? Mason deserved truth, safety and nothing but the love and happiness he projected to anyone within a five foot radius. How anyone could hurt him just dug under Blaine’s nails to the point–it really pissed him off. Taking him by the hand–Blaine stepped closer.
“Listen, Mason. Your sister loves you and she’s going to want you to be safe and happy. I know what it’s like to suffocate in an open hallway and no one is taking the time to help you. And the only place I never felt that way was Dalton.” God, he wished he had something better than transferring to give Mason. But boiled down? Dalton was the best place for him to be. “I mean. Dalton isn’t perfect. It has it’s issues but as far as feeling safe there? And heard? McKinley can’t compare. It’s going to be a long time before it could even try..” Blaine pursed his lips, feeling guilty for saying things so bluntly but..Mason asked and this was how he felt.
Skylar nodded as Blaine replied, biting his lip as he took a seat in the indicated chair. He set his bag to the side as he settled himself into a more comfortable position. Something told the leader that now wasn’t the best time, that maybe his coach had more important thing to attend to. But he also knew that he already came this far, there was no point in backing out. As he brought his gaze back to his mentor, Skylar took a breath before diving into his previously written speech.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed, but the Warblers have been a little..disconnected. Ever since Jane transferred teams, they have been upset. Which is understandable, however I need your help trying to get the team back up to par. We have so much potential, I would hate for this one incident to ruin it.”
Sighing quietly after Skylar voiced his concerns and only confirmed that they were on the same page–Blaine sat back in his chair and rested laced together fingers on top of his stomach. His thumbs jutted up in time with his eyebrows–an idea came to mind. “I have noticed. And the Warblers mean far too much to me to let this keep festering. You’re right. It’ll wreck us from the inside out if we ignore what’s going on and this team has been through too much to fall again. I think we need a challenge to focus on again.”
The Warblers thrive on the energy of performing above anything else. Why not give it to them? “What about a mid-season showcase? Assign everyone to pick their own song and perform it in front of the school? Or we could pair off. A group performance at the end could really be the kicker. We need something to work towards. Get our focus back on what means the most to us. Each other and the music and what we do best. What are your thoughts on what they need? Do you think this will help?”
Skylar gathered what was left of his papers off the table as his fellow Warblers went to leave the practice room. After hearing Jane transferred schools, most of them felt upset that they pushed her out of the school. As hard as he tried he couldn’t convince them that it wasn’t their fault, they followed the only tradition that the founder had left, it wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe it was just his point of view, but it was something he felt strongly about. Being a traditionalist wasn’t a bad thing.
The upperclassman waited for the room to empty before approaching their coach. He wanted to get a chance to talk to him, see if he would be able to use his usual motivational speeches to bring the Warblers back on track. Although Skylar was the head of the council, he still was glad to have a coach to help him. Especially one that was a former Warblers, one who understood what it meant to be part of this brotherhood. “Mr. Anderson, can I talk to you?” He asked, gripping the end of his leather bag.
Blaine retreated office promptly after practice. Glad for some peace and quiet so he could pull his thoughts together and focus. Skylar wasn’t the only one to notice the drop in the Warblers morale since Jane left. Everyone was quieter. The ones who kept stoic faces were few. Most of them felt guilty. In Blaine’s opinion–which he wouldn’t dare share with anyone? They deserved to. They needed to learn a lesson. That sometimes things have to change to become better, stronger. What he hated most about the situation other than losing Jane and hurting her? Was a small voice in the back of his head said he needed to understand the more traditional members as well. Until–maybe–one day? He might be able to lead them elsewhere.
Ugh. Everything was a mess. Much like the oncoming trainwreck of his personal life. Elbows propped on the desk–he rested his forehead against upturned palms. Damn it. Everything was out of the control he struggled so hard to get back. Out of it all? Fixing the Warblers needed to be his priority. And it was. But–seriously? Could he get a break? He barely noticed Skylar until he heard him. Blaine quickly shut down his too full brain and shifted into a welcoming, albeit still vaguely frustrated smile when looked up and dropped his hands to the desk. “Skylar. Sure. Come in and have a seat,” he nodded at the chair close by. “What can I help you with?”
Nick waited for their usual spot at Starbucks, waiting for his friend, Blaine. He had just gotten out of a final exam and lab. Dressed in his purple scrubs he drank his venti coffee, hoping Blaine would come soon because he didn’t want Blaine to drink his coffee cold. Especially since the line was 20 people long.
“ Cmon Blaine.” He whispered.
Hitting traffic when it was at it’s worst had Blaine jogging through the crowd towards the Starbucks where he was scheduled to meet Nick fifteen minutes ago. He cut through where he could, darted around others where he couldn’t and kept muttering apologies while readjusting his satchel close to a dozen times because he kept getting choked by it. Not the best day of days but at least he had spending time with Nick to look forward to.
When he slid into the seat across from his long time friend–his loose curls bounced in front of his eyes. A winded breath blew some out of the way but he shot Nick a guilty, lopsided smile in hopes of making up for being late. “Hey. Hi. Sorry. It’s been a day. Hope you weren’t waiting too long?”
Jeff had spent the weeks after Blaine had arrived keeping an eye on him making sure he made it to all his classes and that he had people to sit and be social with as well as caught up to the rest of them in classes so he wouldn’t be left out of anything. Now weeks had passed and he felt it was time to drag Blaine into the mass of Warblers and let him experience how the rockstars of the school lived. Yeah he had been to a few impromptu performances that they’d preformed during school, but he hadn’t been to an actual practice and sure Jeff had gossiped non stop about the boys even going so far as giving Blaine some information that he’d never shared about the time he’d hooked up with Nicky and got disappointed when Nicky expressed that he was more into females than he was males.
Jeff had shaken himself out of his thoughts when he heard the door open and his roommate walked in. “PERFECT TIMING” he told him bouncing on his bed as he took his tie off “I’m heading towards practice, you should come with me!” he bounced himself off the bed and headed toward Blaine “Set down your bag and come on!” he bounced towards the door excited to be dragging Blaine along with him to practice.
Dalton was quickly becoming home. Two weeks in and he called his parents to let them know he’d rather stay at the dorms this coming weekend than make the short drive back. There wasn’t much of a point anyway but even not having something to go home to didn’t seem to bother him much. Not when he had this place. There was more pep to his step, more energy in his eyes and the quiet boy that was huddled in the booth at the pizza shop with the Warblers his first night here was becoming someone else. Brighter, happier. Blaine stood straighter. Carried himself with a better ease and continued to engage in more interactions with the boys who seemed to be welcoming the late arriving student with open arms.
One thing he hadn’t done yet? Jeff mentioned maybe a few times that he needed to attend a real practice with the Warblers. He saw them perform throughout the school and eagerly waited for the chance when they’d have a real meeting. Rumors were that was tonight and when he returned to the dorm room he shared with the blonde–Blaine was already holding his breath hoping that he’d be reinvited. Hazel eyes went round as Jeff bounced towards the door. “Yeah! That’d be great!” Blaine’s bag hit the floor and he hurried after. “Coming! Go, go, go,” he gently nudged Jeff along like the long legged boy couldn’t move fast enough.
Just taking one look at Blaine’s room, Seb could tell it reflected everything he was in a way. And who Blaine was? Sebastian loved endlessly, even if he kept that big minor detail inside his mysterious mind. Green eyes observed music related things, nautical themed items scattered around, all the colors Blaine kept dominant in his wardrobe, and the one that caught his eye most being all of the photos of him and Kurt. That part was one that made Sebastian feel almost uncomfortable. Not because he hadn’t turned a new leaf and tried to come face to face with the fact that Blaine was Kurt’s and it wouldn’t be different; But because somehow even though he knew this whole meeting was more than innocent, a friend to friend thing, it still was like a phantom label of villainous guilt was stamped to his forehead. Was it a bad choice to come here? These days it seemed to hard to tell what was good and what was bad because either way it seemed to end with sourness. A good guy hiding behind the mask of trouble made things blurry.
Though this whole thing was already confusing, the whispered voice at the other side of the bed caught Sebastian’s attention and he fell out of his trance of anxieties to be reminded the real reason he was here. Sebastian was here for Blaine and the sake of needing to be forgiven. Needing to make sure someone he had so quickly grown to care about was okay. A soft smile appears on his lips as he looks over at the other, keeping his hands in his lap. Beautiful as ever was Blaine Anderson. Though the mood in the room was calm a part of his heart always still began to beat faster when those hazel eyes looked at him. The tricky part now was ingraining in his head that he wasn’t supposed to be thinking that way.
❝Good afternoon, sleepy head.❞ he says lightheartedly. Why in the hell was Blaine asking if he was okay? I mean he knew that the whole text conversation they had very much revealed that Sebastian was dealing with some major one man wars in his head—– but god damn, being asked that question only reminded him how good of a person Blaine was. Here he was in bed on drugs for his poor eye caused by something Sebastian did, and he was asking Sebastian if he was okay? Not to mention that Blaine allowed him to come here because if he went home it would of been a bad environment. Eyes glance off to pull away contact for a moment as he pauses, soon staring back at the other male. ❝I’m great.❞ he lies with a smile, he has to be strong.
❝I think the real question is how you’re doing, Claus von Stauffenberg?❞ he asks, adding in a little bit of jokes directed towards the eye patch (which by the way, Sebastian shamefully thinks Blaine looks adorable with) in hopes it can lighten the situation a bit.
“You’re great,” he asks back in a tone that the lingering fogginess in his brain doesn’t let him cover up with something else. Disbelief. He wasn’t buying that Sebastian was great. Not after their conversation and–definitely–not after laying here watching that distant expression he saw written on his face. There was more that put it there than a picture of him and Kurt. That was most certainly the case. “Me? I’m okay,” Blaine didn’t have to lie about that. He was okay. Not great. Not amazing. Not anything but okay. Without the drugs–he got sore. Without talking to Sebastian and seeing him in person so they could talk this out. Then talking to Sebastian and sensing how messed up he was over this whole ordeal. All the stress his situation was putting his friends and Kurt through. His parents being angry that he wouldn’t say who did this to him. Before his Dad gave up and Blaine told his Mother to keep her appointments in Cincinnati. None of it when added with the fact that at least he wasn’t blind in one eye was balancing out to amazing, great, or anything other than okay.
Sebastian looked terrible. Lost and far away. If that’s what this mess turned him into? From the laughing, playfully jabbing friend he often found himself wondering where he got most of what came out of his mouth from? He had a fire in him. One that Blaine was pulled towards time and time again. Seeing it gone? Filled his stomach with a sense of sadness that was gut wrenching. “You don’t seem very great, Seb. But you’re here and we can fix things. You’re not leaving until we do and until you can promise me that you’re going to be okay if I let you go home. So.. Trust me? I don’t hate you. If that’s what you’re worried about the most? You can stop now.” The bed rustles as he scoots closer and uses his knee to gently nudge the outside of Sebastian’s thigh closest to him. One pleading eye meets both of his friend’s. –Please trust me. I can’t hate you. I tried. I can’t. I won’t ever be able to. I don’t care who says I should..–
Blaine half-heartedly laughs at the Claus von Stauffenberg comparison. He grins right after and lazily shrugs. “I wish I could brag that this happened during a war that I was trying to assassinate Hitler in but–anyway. Come here,” he reaches towards the boy sitting awkwardly on the edge of his bed. Fingers insistently wiggle to be taken. “It’s cold in the house and I’ve been cheating by just curling up in blankets instead of starting a fire. I don’t trust myself with matches. And I haven’t bothered to turn on the heat yet. Lay down with me?” Trying to coax him further–Blaine wriggles his fingers and waits for Sebastian to take them. “We can talk. If that’s what you still want to do. Just.. Come here.”
Dalton Academy, finally he might have found a sanctuary. No bullying, no constant being afraid of being tossed in a dumpster. And here, the Glee club were stars unlike on McKinley where they were on the bottom of the food chain.
He corrected his tie, perfecting his over all look before stepping inside. Being just as breathless as he had been the first time he’d come there to spy on the Warblers. He walked through the school before seeing the only familiar face he knew on the school; Blaine.
“—Blaine!” he half yelled, a smile on his face.
Blaine left the dorms early wanting to be inside the school when Kurt came to start his first day. He knew how stressful and intimidating being the new kid was. He went through it himself. Quite frankly–in Blaine’s opinion–Kurt has been through enough stress and intimidation to last a lifetime. Dalton was perfect for him and Blaine was going to be there to guarantee it would be.
Sitting on a large chair inside the grand foyer–Blaine held his satchel in his lap. Others passed by and waved or paused to say hello. Not once did his gaze stray from the doorway determined to catch sight of Kurt when he appeared.
And there he was. Not noticing him yet and taking everything in. Blaine smiled warmly and stood up, bid a goodbye to Jeff and waited to be seen.
Their eyes met–Blaine waved. “Kurt! You made it,” the Warbler hurried over and nodded down at his suit. “Check it out? You remembered your jacket this time.” His grin was ear to ear.
pianokeysandbowties 