elliott.

“Don’t apologise, s’not your fault.” Elliott soothed, hand not stopping by the action of petting him like a child. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but Elliott was okay dealing with it. He was used to Blaine’s…outbursts, so to speak.

At the comments about not being what he wanted to come home to, Elliott couldn’t help the initial thought of ‘too bloody right.’ He was tired and already dreading going back to work and class – he enjoyed it but still – but Blaine was upset, and Elliott knew how to be a good friend. Instead, the words out of his mouth where “It’s okay. At least Rachel and Santana didn’t greet me with their bitching.” He laughed, trying to keep the atmosphere light.

Poor Elliott. Blaine had to wonder why the guy tolerated any of them. If it wasn’t someone having some issue they needed his help through? It was another. Blaine tried to keep his issues to himself and didn’t intentionally toss them in Elliott’s direction. Well..not since the first any only time he did. What an embarrassing disaster that was. Though it did end up with the two of them becoming friends. He would’ve kept quiet today too but Elliott just..drew them out.

There was something about the man that just felt so comforting. Like having a massively tall, black eyeliner wearing, steampunk teddy bear you could talk to without judgement and receive some sage-like advice. That’s what Elliott’s gift was. “Ever consider becoming a psychologist? I swear. I didn’t mean to lay it all out on the line like that. You just–. Thank you for being you. Okay? Can I make this all up to you? Cook you dinner? Take you out to one?” Blaine smiled up at him and took a step back–fingers curled around Elliott’s wrists so he could give them a thankful squeeze.
“Something better than coffee we let get cold and stale cookies. Please?”

i got you. @porcelain-ashtray

He’s squirming- not violently, just a kick here and a twist of his torso there. It makes his discomfort obvious though and Blaine apparently woke. Or maybe he hadn’t slept much at all. It’s the third time Kurt’s stayed with Blaine since that first night in the rain. The nightmares aren’t constant and don’t elicit yelling or anything else that could alert his family, but they’re often and leave him exhausted. Finn is even noticing circles under Kurt’s eyes.

When it’s been long enough – a week or so is an accurate gage – of sleeping restlessly and feeling like he’s being watched when he leaves the house, of being stared at by anyone on the same side as his attackers when he’s out at night, Kurt goes to Blaine.

Someone otherwise uninvolved and yet to judge him was a comfort. So Kurt has been sleeping here once every week for the past three, always sure to give him warning in case of any relatives – something they hadn’t discussed but Kurt assumes is a good idea to be careful of, if nothing else based on his appearance in contrast to this neighborhood.

He wakes with a start, fists clenched and body tensing. Prepared to defend himself. There is no danger though, only Blaine in a room only dimly lit by a small lamp on the bedside table. Releasing the breath he’d been holding, Kurt lets his body go slack as he raise a hand to place on his forehead. “Sorry.”

Blaine spends his time in between hearing from Kurt switching from focused on school and the Warblers to wondering if the boy he found broken in the rain is okay. There’s texts that they share. Mainly Blaine sending him hellos and words of encouragement. Of making sure that he knows he has a place to go. He doesn’t want to smother him so he makes sure not to do it as often as he’d actually like.

Kurt’s been taking him up on the offer. Blaine can tell that he comes to him when things get too much to ignore. The state he arrives in is testament to that. God those circles under his eyes are always so dark but Blaine notices after a night or two of being here..they seem to fade a little bit.

That’s what he wants to do most. Make things okay–if not better–for Kurt.

So? When Kurt shows up–Blaine tries not to ask too many questions and let him get the rest he so obviously needs. When Kurt wants to talk–he’ll talk. If that doesn’t happen–they’ll talk about other things until Kurt is comfortable enough to confide in him. Or not. Either way–whatever Kurt needs, Blaine’s happy that Kurt knows he can find it here.

Tonight was no different. Blaine stayed up until he was sure that Kurt was sleeping hoping that he’d be able to stay that way the entire night. Less than an hour or so after he dozed off–he was startled awake with a kick to his shin. It wasn’t until the second that Blaine lightly touched Kurt’s shoulder. Hazel eyes went from sleepy to wide when he saw the pale boy jerk and then deflate. “It’s okay, Kurt,” he whispered calmly. “It was only a dream. You’re okay. See?”

santana.

If only he could see his mess of a hairdo. As much as she wanted to fire off a few quick one liners regarding the undone masterpiece, the situation didn’t call for it. There was no reason other than her own fear of commitment && connection that would lead her to say something cruel. As tempting as it was to self destruct, it seemed Blaine calmed her nerves enough to push those thoughts aside. The option was there, she could lean towards her dark side and snap any moment. Just not yet. Right now she was sticking to the part of her that always got what she wanted. The part that excused the things that scared her most, letting the future rest unbalanced so she could have the present.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like Blaine, or feeling close to people. It was just overwhelming when people looked out for her. Santana had seen too many people fall from greatness, too many hearts breaking from the hands of those whom they trusted. So to have love on her side, was what scared her the most. The bitch of their group prided herself in being independent, not giving a shit, always being on the heart breaker side to avoid being heart broken. A few times she’d slip, and her wicked ways would settle just long enough for her to share a moment of intimacy. A moment that showed the wicked witch had a heart. Deep brown hues flickered open to see her friend, so dangerously close by her own design. His question caught her off guard, striking a small panic to stir in her half asleep brain. Thankfully for the both of them, she was just comfortable && happy enough to let it slide. && She felt able to breathe again. “I don’t need to talk, wonder boy. Unless it’s about your full on muppet on meth hair.” She grinned at her joke, but curled her fingers over his chest to show some sort of care. Even if it came from that dark place, she didn’t mean to hurt him. She had to make sure he knew that.

Long fingers dared to card themselves into the dark strands of hair his nose previously was enjoying having a field day burying itself into. He waited–wondering if she was okay or if she needed to let something off her chest. Either way? They weren’t moving from this couch come hell or high water. Why? Because he was comfortable and this felt too good to give up yet. A break from all the head throbbing inducing studying was more than welcome and he planned on enjoying every second away from books and notes that he indulged himself in. Plus? He did have great company in that pause of work, work, work. So long as she was okay? Blaine was okay. If she wasn’t? Making sure she was wouldn’t be too much trouble. Truthfully, it’d be no trouble at all. “Okay, okay. Just thought I’d ask. Did you seriously just call me wonder boy. Cute, Santana. Real cute,” he kept his voice at a whisper because the quiet was nice and calm and perfect.

“I’ll let the muppet on meth hair comment slide just this once. Because I know–coming from you–that’s the best sort of compliment I can hope for. It probably does look like a wicked mess. I’d fix it but that requires moving and we already established that isn’t going to happen.” Humming at her fingers on his chest–Blaine gave her scalp a stroke of fingertips and piano key worn nails before untangling his fingers and covering the back of her hand. “You know? For swearing that you’re no good at any of this stuff? You’re a pretty amazing cuddler. You should give yourself more credit where it’s deserved. Comfy enough for you? I think I passed out on top of a blanket stuffed between me and the crease of the couch. If you want? I might be swayed into letting you try to get it out.” Maybe. Maybe he’d move. Chances were about fifty-fifty currently.

stranger things have happened? maybe?

This was not one of his best choices, yet at the same time it wasn’t worst. It seemed like the both of them were surprised that this was really happening. Hell, Barry was surprised with himself. That he was actually going to go through with this in the first place. Another thought that had been circling around in his head— he probably should have waited to hear the other’s name before hanging up. Now they’ll just have to go by clothes, mostly. He had offered his name, so that was at least something. He took a breath; why was he even nervous? Oh right, this wasn’t something he actually did often. Trying to do a one nightstand just wasn’t his style. True, he wanted to at least try, but– a tiny part of him kind of hoped it wouldn’t go that way. Hey, who knows, perhaps it could be something else? There was nothing wrong with being just mildly positive. after all. Okay Barry, stop, now you’re just being ridiculous. Shaking his head, he’ll go with the flow he supposed. And with that thought, he arrived at the bar. Man, he really wished he could get a least a little tipsy. Barry looked around to see if he could spot anyone wearing a bowtie, and a blue cardigan. The bowtie would certainly stand out. After a moment— was that him? It was the only person with a bowtie he could see. Okay, you got this. The speedster made his way over, and settled next to him. “Hi— I’m Barry,” he said, that didn’t sound lame, right? He was trying to at least look confident. “You called earlier, from you know,” okay now that did sound lame.

Feeling a tiny bit better after his drink–Blaine hooked his heels on the rung of the stool and bounced his knees to the beat of the song playing. It was a way to get out some energy that kept building up the longer he waited. Studious eyes stared through the glass he lifted–elbow propped on the bar–and held eye level. What the hell was he doing? There were a few times within the last minute where he pondered if leaving was a better idea. But outright ditching someone wasn’t okay. Not anywhere close. Sure he could text him and tell him something came up. Yet, he didn’t. Something just kept him firmly planted in his seat. Everything seemed to intensify as his heart began to beat faster. Not the dulling numbness that alcohol usually made things less sharp around the edges. No, that was nowhere to be found. Every person that came within a few feet of his stool was given a quick glance but none of them had the crimson–or was it red?–sweater that Barry pointed out he should be looking for. Just as his glass was put back down on the bar and he let his hand fall to toy with some of the lines of wet rolling down the outside–he heard a voice that was newly familiar and quickly moved his finger back to join the others beside the glass. Meeting gazes with a man who was utterly striking to look at–Blaine felt his breath hitch and his lips part. Crimson dusted over his olive complexion but the smile that curved the edges of his lips made him look a little less daft, at least? “Hi– I’m Blaine.” Oh, wow. His eyes were green. “Right. Yes. I did. Um–Drink–Would you like a drink?” Good to see both of them were starting out the gate with a stutter. Somehow–the fact that they were was a much appreciated comical comfort.

santana.

The females gaze narrowed the moment Blaine mentioned the tweedledum twink she’d shut down days before. He was going to get defensive, && that alone had her setting up defenses of her own. A rolodex of hateful words ran through her brain as she ~~tried~~ to listen to what he had to say. That was more than most people got from Santana. At least he started off on a semi-understandable note. Though his voice dripped with distaste, or disappointment. She didn’t bother learning the difference. “Okay puppy breath, I don’t think Kurt was that hurt by a few blows at his dance moves && creepy old people habits.” She should of kept quiet but the snark came out under her breath. How could it not when he was so pointedly attacking her? Even if it was well deserved, that wouldn’t mean she’d be backing down any time soon.

At this point her heart was pounding in her chest, the tension rising more && more with each passing moment of silence. He went on about how Kurt didn’t deserve it, but he did. The boy deserved the ~~few~~ quick witted, well delivered insults for what he said in glee club. How could he honestly be defending him? After everything, he was still Kurts bitch, && she wasn’t going to let it slide. “There are no words — for how absolutely PATHETIC you look right now. I can tell how hard you’re trying to stand up to me right now, because your over gelled hair is actually trying to defy gravity, only in a broken && totally repelling way, similar to Kurt’s rendition of the song when battling queen uni-brow. I think maybe it would of worked. MAYBE. If only you weren’t trying to fight with me on someone you can barely look at without breaking into some depressing song about broken hearts && lost dignity. You know, if you spent just half of the time you waste on the narcissistic purse dog you happen to still think is yours — maybe you’d stand a chance against anything other than a pastry shop. Now get out of my face please, before I end you.” Santana could tell she’d regret snapping at him the moment it stopped. Blaine cared about his friends, even her, through thick && thin. Yet here she was tearing him apart. Maybe some part of this was her fault, but that kind of confession still wouldn’t come soon.

Blaine didn’t go into this confrontation without expecting some sort of incinerating backdraft inferno exploding in his face. So when it came? He stood silently listening and took every word in with the drumming of his pulse in his ears as a soundtrack. Not a peep came from him until she was done. Though there were telltale signs of what her words were doing to him throughout the entire tirade. Prepared or not. He physically reacted in subtle ways. It showed in how he gripped down onto his arms so tight that the color drained out of his fingers and how the honied hazel of his eyes stopped exuding the light they normally captured and radiated back tenfold. Instead? They were darker, more serious and narrowed at their edges. The tip of his tongue pressed tight against the backside of his bottom row of teeth causing the muscles of his jaw to tense up. Finally. Either she ran out of words. Or she had to breathe. Something in him broke. Not in a loud, screaming sort of way. But something far more done. When he was sure he wouldn’t choke on what he had to say–Blaine slowly let gravity pull him from the wall he’d been leaning one heel against and took a few steps towards her–chin tucked down and eyebrows raised just to make his point crystal clear.

“Grow. Up. Santana. If all you have to hurt me with are insults about hair products that I’ve been hearing since I came to this school and degrading Kurt or what he may or may not mean to me? Are you sure you’re ready for such an adult decision as marriage? I’m pretty sure you should drop the middle school lash outs before you take that leap. The purse dog you continue to insult also happens to be the boy who tried to make things remotely better for you the only way he knew how when you were put through hell at this school. He is also that boy who didn’t boot your rear end to the curb when you randomly showed up in New York City proclaiming that you were going to live there. Why? Because he cares about you. You got to stay. Well. Until you drove the both of them so crazy with your selfish games they had to kick you out or go nuts. But most of all,” he stopped walking and stood there sighing softly. “That’s the same boy who told me when I asked where the heck it was and thought I was going to have to punch someone if they stole it from him again–gave you the most important thing that he ever had that belonged to his brother because he was so worried for you that he knew you needed it more than him. It was more than insults about dancing and old people. It was about his appearance, his personality, his entire self and you used me to make the hammer hit harder. Or do you not even hear what comes out of your mouth when you do this to the people that love you so much? Because–if that’s the case? Until you think about it? You’re going to keep on losing them until you end up alone.”

♒ ♬☹❃

SEND ONE FOR MY MUSE’S REACTION TO YOUR MUSE @devilinarcddress

♒ = lying to them.

“Or you could tell me what’s really going on with you because I’m not buying into anything you just said,” Blaine pressed his tongue against the inside corner of his lips watching her closely. “It’s up to you, though. I know you’re only going to talk on your own terms but–I really wish you’d let me in enough that you didn’t feel you have to lie to me.”

♬ = singing to them.

“See? I knew you couldn’t resist giving into all that annoying singing that’s been happening since we all came back for our mini-reunion. To what do I owe the honor of the ever elusive Santana serenade? By the way? I hope you plan on a duet next. Because now we have to sing together. Before you tell me to shut up? I’m not taking no for an answer.”

☹ = insulting a loved one. answered here. x

❃ = dancing with them. on the way in another post like the above!

SEND ONE FOR MY MUSE’S REACTION TO YOUR MUSE @devilinarcddress

☹ = insulting a loved one.

“Santana? Listen. I understand that what Kurt did when you proposed was totally uncalled for and definitely not at the right time. I get that.” He knew he should uncross his arms, smile more. Everything you need to do to make yourself seem less angrier than he really was but–so far? Blaine just stood there–not listening to his own common sense–and tensed from head to toe. At least his words and tone of voice were relatively calm? “But what I don’t get. Is how you could be his friend and use me and every little insecurity he has against him just to show him he should have kept his opinions to himself. Yes–he made a serious mistake. No–he shouldn’t have opened his mouth but you, of all people, should know that you can’t take the parts of someone that they are the most insecure about and use it against them like that.”

“Not when he’s already at a huge low,” Blaine swallowed the guilt he felt for somehow ending up being the biggest reason for said low. It wasn’t fair that he was the one who ended up here broken and now had trouble looking at himself in the mirror and thinking about Kurt but–here he was doing exactly that. And now–here he was-–stepping in to be the one to stand up for him at the risk of being on the receiving end of whatever Santana came back at him with. –Yep. Here he was. Indeed.– “He didn’t deserve you going that far and in front of people. In his own way, he was just–. Okay. I’m–There are no words.” His lips pressed together in a thin line before he palmed a sigh and his hand fell back to the crook of the opposite elbow. “You need to talk to him before both of you lose someone else important to each other. We’ve all been through that enough already.”

elliott.

Elliott hadn’t really expected that reaction – he didn’t mean to upset Blaine! He could be blunt, a little determined with his words: persuasive, that was the best description, but he tried to keep them kind and positive. Mainly because he didn’t want to cause this kind of damage to someone.

“Shh, y’alright Blaine, s’alright.” He soothed softly. The arm around Blaine tightened slightly, while the other hand lifted to card black painted nails through his hair. He was careful to avoid messing with the gelled style, ending up in a more petting motion than anything else. A few people stared at them – two grown men arguing then hugging it out in the middle of a coffee shop – but Elliott didn’t notice, hoping Blaine was too occupied to either.

“Sorry. I’m really sorry,” his hold around Elliott’s middle tightened and he sighed heavily wishing for all the world that a hug could chase away the heaviness on his shoulders. But.. It didn’t. Blaine was half afraid that until he sat down and talked with his fiance’? The pressure wouldn’t just stay there. It’d keep getting worse until he didn’t have the slightest capability to ignore it anymore. He’d gotten good at that. Not seeing what–apparently–even people who were gone and just came back could see. Blinders towards the inevitable. But he’d hang onto them for as long as he could because pulling them off? The idea was terrifying. Inevitable but terrifying.

“I didn’t mean to react like that. It’s just been a few really stressful weeks,” he let his eyes fall shut at the pet over the top of his head and gave the man one more squeeze before opening them and lifting his head off Elliott’s chest so he could look up at him. “You’re such a good person. Thank you for caring so much,” he breathed in deep and plastered on a smile. “That was not the kind of welcome back you should have gotten. Hi, Elliott. Let’s deal with Blaine’s drama.” Blaine scrunched his nose and cringed apologetically. “Not how I planned on saying hi to you face to face when I saw you again.”

are you okay?

Sebastian dared to scoot closer. Blaine’s very fingers on his wrist felt so heavy but relieving in its own love-sick way. “Yeah, I wanna go there. With you,“ he whispered to Blaine. Sebastian’s boldness came back screaming as he leaned in to give Blaine a quick kiss on the lips. He didn’t want to make him feel any more uncomfortable or wrong with what he was doing, so he pulled away. Sebastian felt the intense need to do that very action. Otherwise, he might’ve gone wild. It was enough for the moment to keep him as happy as he could be. In fact, Sebastian hadn’t been so genuinely happy in a while. His gaze was soft and a stupid smile stretched from the corners of his mouth. Sebastian leaned his head against the couch cushion, his hair slightly messy from the lack of surprising upkeep.

If Sebastian gave him another chance–he’d promise him right here and now that he’d never risk messing things up again. Not for some foolish repeat of a moment where he got so lost that he risked the chance to have Sebastian in his life. He waited with baited breath–hinging on the moment where Sebastian would either let him in and give him back what he was so terrified of losing. Or to know that he had irrevocably damaged what only just began but was now–for some reason he couldn’t name and didn’t really care to try because it just was–one of the most important connections to a person that he’s ever had. There was something about Sebastian that drew him in, made him want to be near the other boy and know him and let Sebastian know him back just as much. More than what he projected, more than what he let himself share because there were so many things he didn’t because those things were better left ignored. Sebastian seemed to see them without even trying..

The strangest part? Blaine wanted him to.. He wouldn’t be able to say why. Only that he did. And he knew that this was his second chance or Sebastian never would have come over. A passing peck to his lips was enough to make his breath hitch. He swallowed past the cartwheel his insides went topsy turvy on and nodded with wave of relief splashing in. “Thank you,” he whispered letting his head fall to rest on the cushion nearly mirroring Sebastian’s position. “You look like a put together mess, by the way. Not that it’s a bad thing. It’s not but,” he studied him with a darting glance over his eyes, “Are you okay?”

tina.

^{Tina appreciated what Blaine was trying to do. At the end of the day, she knew that he had a point but it was hard to see that at times. She kept looking out the window as she bit her lip. After everything that she has gone through, Tina can’t help wondering if there was something wrong with her. Her mind flew back to when she ended up going head first into the fountain. “Do you remember when I ended up in the fountain? I don’t think I ever told you how exactly I ended up in there.” As long as she kept looking out the window and not at Blaine, she could do this. “Mike had sent me a text, you know, after I stood up for myself before Nationals last year. This particular text…..it hit me right in my insecurities. It was something along of the lines that Rachel is one of a kind and that I was being unreasonable.” Letting out a sigh, she tried to not go back to where she was when she got that text. It still hurt to think about it, let alone talk about it which she’s never done. “If my own boyfriend basically told me that I’m nothing special, that wanting to matter is ridiculous then its hard to believe that from someone else.” It was true what they said; those closest to us caused the greatest hurt. At the mention of Dalton, she looked over at him. “Are you sure that would be a good idea? I remember the drama that went down when Rachel was dating Jesse.” Interteam dating never really seemed like a good idea when it came to the
New Directions.}

Okay. Saying Tina telling him why she ended up in the fountain didn’t settle well with Blaine in was the understatement of the century. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles were stark white and the muscles lining his jawline flinched then tightened with a clamp of his back teeth hitting them together. Everyone who knew the smallest details about Tina would know that wording things the way she said Mike had would not only hit home but it’d do it with enough impact to leave a scar. Proof positive in the way that months after–it stuck with her enough to bring it up now. Whether or not she was being unreasonable–which looking at things from her side..she wasn’t–you just don’t. Keeping his thoughts to himself was becoming increasingly difficult the more he thought about what she must have–and still–felt like hearing that. Try as he might–and it was a lot–to keep from showing how perturbed he was, Blaine forced a smile and took her hand letting the back of her knuckles rest on his knee. “The Vocal Adrenaline idea? No. That part was a joke. I’d never give any of jerks my permission to be within ten feet of you let alone date you. The Dalton guys though,” his head swayed from side to side as he bit the edge of his lip and hummed. “Who cares about what people think? All I’m saying is the idea might have merit. There’s some really good guys at Dalton. Not all of them are Warblers. If you want? We can stop by on the way home,” he grinned and shot her a conspiratory wink, “I could show you around? I won’t tell if you don’t?”