Sebastian was barely picking up the body language of Blaine. He was so intoxicated by him that he quite literally was drunk with sensuality. His breathing was heavy and his heart was pounding within his chest. This was everything he had ever wanted. From that first moment he saw him walk into that Warbler practice, Sebastian had wanted him. Blaine was just his type. He needed this. No other guy was giving him the rush that Blaine was giving him.
“Beautiful…” he huffed out. That was a thought that unintentionally was sounded out. “No more words…” In betwixt Blaine’s legs he slowly pushed against Blaine’s chest. His lips went to meet the young man’s once more. This time it was much more. Sebastian’s tongue flicked out to meet Blaine’s lips as his lips worked fervently against. Heavy breathing through his nose filled the air. Small moans were exchanged against Blaine’s tender lips. Bold enough to be more aggressive he wrapped Blaine’s legs higher up around his waist. It was fast, and hard movements that left him a little breathless. “Fuck.”
Sebastian’s hands daringly explored Blaine’s thighs. His fingers tip toed further to where the insides of his thighs met. Sebastian needed some friction because he was un-mistakingly hard and the pressure was doing things to him. He didn’t know how much further Blaine would let him take it. He’d take as much as he could, gladly.
He recalled those famous words of his. Doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.
‘Beautiful…’
What composure he had left to keep his eyes from rolling back was gone when he heard Sebastian’s word slip blunder. His legs clenched onto the other’s sides. A feeble attempt at holding him where he was because that was a sensible thing to do. Of course it didn’t last. Because the sensible didn’t belong in a completely insensible situation. He would have fallen against the back of the sofa like a house of cards with the barest touch against his chest. The continued press of fingertips there had his body screaming to stay put where he was guided to.
The taste of Sebastian’s tongue against his lips lured him in, neck and shoulders lifted so he could cant his head at an angle. His mouth opened up, a groan rolled over his tongue but he kept it inside his mouth subconsciously challenging Sebastian’s to venture in if he wanted anything more. He received Sebastian’s moans when they were given over, swallowed them down and felt the vibration rattle up his spine and burst goosebumps over a small patch of exposed skin that his ruffled up shirt revealed above his belt.
A soft cry escaped when his legs were roughly wrapped around a slender waist. Touches to his thighs and higher sent a cold rush of delight through his stomach and zig zagged it down his legs curling toes in before it turned into fire inside his gut. He wanted him and his throat clenched at the thought. Trembling fingers lifted to twist into Sebastian’s hair. Just a minute longer. A minute more and he’d stop this. But what a minute it would be. Blaine curled his fingers into fistfuls of chestnut brown and the small of his back arched, hips lifted. That friction. Oh God, that friction against Sebastian’s jeans made him let go a muffled sob from what it did to his insides.
Sebastian was freaking himself out with this kiss. Normally, a kiss was nothing to him. It was a precursor to get some decent sex so that he’d be on his way. With Blaine, he actually put something into this. His eyes were closed and unready to open so long as his lips were in contact with Blaine’s. His own heart skipped a bit faster. A feeling he hadn’t felt. The butterflies in his stomach were out of control but he loved ever second of it. Goddamnit, Blaine Warbler.
His lips sensually and ever so meticulously moved with the latter male’s. It was an insanely good kiss. Was this what it meant to have fireworks? The one hand that remained on Blaine’s cheek dropped to his shoulder. He didn’t want to, but he needed to. Pulling away from the kiss he caught his breath. Not knowing what to say, a laugh left him as he looked down only to glance back up and look Blaine in the eye.
The smallest of smiles tugged at the corners of his mouth. Sebastian, for a moment, lost himself in those incredible hazel eyes. Play it off cool. But FUCK, his lips actually were soft.
“You uh, kiss well. Pretty nice.”
Blaine felt his heart hiccup into his throat when Sebastian didn’t pull away after a simple peck. He should know better considering who was slotted between his calves with their lips pressed to his. There was nothing about what they were doing that could be labelled, simple. Or–even okay. This wasn’t okay. It wasn’t okay to finally let his eyes slip closed. It wasn’t okay to let go of the couch before he tore holes in it and for his fingers that’d had their color bled out at the knuckles from the grip to ache and throb as they wrapped around each one of Sebastian’s wrists. It wasn’t okay to keep his hands where they were by holding them tight.
–And it wasn’t okay to feel his head fall back because it was too heavy and he was reeling when their lips finally parted. Or to be holding onto Sebastian’s skin because he needed something–anything–to pull him back down to the ground. Nothing was okay with what he was doing and—he was doing it. So softly, so delicately and so–so with a want for it to not end when that’s exactly what it had to do.
The weight of Sebastian’s stare pressed the last pull of gravity onto his senses and when their eyes met–Blaine’s were swallowed up by his pupils and dazed. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Except for the way his calves bulged and tightened against Sebastian’s sides, toes dug into the couch and his chest sucked in air. “I–Yeah. You do too. Sebastian. I..” –Talk, Blaine. Talk. Tell him you have to go. Tell him you can’t. That you’re sorry.– But nothing came out.
“It’s not like I happen to love musical theatre, Blaine. I may be a cold hearted douche, but I’m a cold hearted douche that loves the stage. I seem to be impressing you more and more as the night progresses though.” His eyes weren’t removed from his work. Another pot was set up as he began to cook the sauce just in time to catch the filet mignon. The kitchen had a delicious scent of well cooked meat and a decadent sauce.
Sebastian shook his head and threw his hands up playfully, “Well excuse me for assuming the worst of ignorance in you.” Sebastian plopped a veggie into his mouth while he waited. Clapping his hands off of any excess food he went to wash his hands. With the wine coming back just in time he popped the top of it and went over to the steaks. Pouring the tiniest bit into the pan, he made a quick pleased noise. “Oh, no. They wont even know it’s missing. That’s the cheap wine. The cellar downstairs is where the Smythe family fortune is. Plus, I don’t want you to have to blow your tuition money on red wine I can replace easily.” The “cheap wine” was by no means cheap. Sebastian just had no real respect for money as the son & teenager of two extremely wealthy parents.
“Wanna taste the sauce for me?” Scooping up a little bit into a ladle he blew on it ever so slightly and held it out for Blaine.
“I’m sorry I misjudged you. Don’t know why it just didn’t connect. You just seemed the type to roll your eyes at one too many sappy showtunes. And if it’s impressing me you’re trying for? You really don’t need to try all that hard. Really. You’re doing just fine.” He cleared his throat and smoothed the edge of his thumb across the label on the wine bottle one last time. Was that too much to say? Too inappropriate?
Sebastian didn’t make learning what was too much or not enough very easy. He was lforced to figure it out on his own. And, God, it was a challenge. “I’m excited to see you on an actual stage. Instead of only the Warblers Common Room.” The bottle was handed over and he held up a palm to make Sebastian pause. “I’m not saying that you weren’t great. You were.” His fingers curled towards his palm and he stuffed both loose fists into his pockets, shrugging once they were tucked away. “All I mean is–. If you’re half as amazing at Sectionals? Giving you song ideas is probably redundant and only going to make my life harder with the New Directions if we’re going to beat you. Which we will,” he teased with a grin. “Then I’ll buy you a bottle of wine as an I’m sorry. No cheap stuff either. Promise..”
“I’d love to. I thought you’d never ask. That smells way too good,” his right hand lifted up to curl around the bend of Sebastian’s elbow as he leaned in for a taste.
Dave rubbed his head, wishing that he was back in bed instead of trying to figure out why Blaine was throwing damn pieces of cement at his house. He had been an asshole before, he didn’t think he deserved this, not after everything and all the apologies. Dave just stared at the male in front of him, blinking as he tried to process everything, especially Blaine’s attempt at apologizing. Giving a long sigh, he turned back to see the window, hole and all. “I’m not going to send you to prison. Though you’re lucky my parents aren’t home right now,” he groaned, looking back towards the other.
Dave stared at the fingers, trying to understand what Blaine was trying to possibly do. “Dude, I don’t know how much it’s going to cost. I’ll call the insurance people in the morning and get an estimate,” he said as he kept looking around. “Look, come inside,” he sighed, inching towards the other. He did look visibly drunk, at least he did in Dave’s opinion. Why Blaine was out like this, wandering around, and why he thought to throw cement at people’s houses was a good idea, he wasn’t actually sure. “I have to say, you’d be good on a football team, that’s for sure,” he said sarcastically.
A tiny sliver of relief splashed onto Blaine’s expression when Dave promised him he wouldn’t call the cops. The last thing he needed was to call Rachel and beg her to come bail him out. Because there was no way he’d phone his mother and tell her what he did. ‘Hello, Mom? I need you to come pick me up from prison’ was a conversation he would never ever live down. Sobriety in the form of terror managed to kill some of his drunken idiocy but it wasn’t enough to make him not stagger to the side after his hand signals that failed to magically fix anything and hold–very carefully–onto Dave’s mailbox for support. With any luck? He wouldn’t break that too.
“Thank you. I don’t need tonight getting any more horrible. I was trying to–it wasn’t supposed to be a chunk of sidewalk. I was going for a stone,” he mumbled frustrated at himself for being such a fool. What Dave was thinking of him–Blaine could only imagine. “Are you sure it isn’t any trouble?” Though if he was here when Dave called the insurance company–he could pay him right away and they could get the window replaced before the Karofskys returned and all hell broke loose? That was a plus. Yeah? A lazy lean had him taking a few fancy steps to prevent gravity from working it’s curse and landing him on his rear end. Again. “Oh, I preferred polo but maybe you’re right,” he tried to joke back but it was a weak attempt.
Walter felt the hot liquid slide down his throat as he sipped on the coffee in his hand. He had thought the cheap looking cafe would have just as cheap-tasting drinks, but the place had outdone itself. Thin fingers held onto the styrofoam cup as he searched for an empty table in the small dining area. The Mabry boy had been in hiding ever since he had escaped jail for fraud and money theft, so what better to place to hide from the world than in the small town of Lima, Ohio!
The short man felt an urge to yell bubble up inside him as he failed to find a seat of his own, striped scarf covering his bearded mouth. The time of month called for warm clothing and protection, something he was used to since he grew up in the skirts of London. It wasn’t the weather that was hard for him, but more of the fact that he wasn’t the rich little white boy he was accustomed to.
“Bloody hell !” Walter shouted as the drink he held managed to pour over the front of his peacoat, the temperature of it scalding his pale skin.
Blue eyes glanced up to the person who had bumped into him, causing the spill.
Blaine wasn’t ready to make the trip back to Westerville. Kurt and the others said their goodbyes and he lingered at the Lima Bean after they left to have one more for the road. The trip always took longer this time of year thanks to dark coming earlier and if he was going to be anywhere near close to awake enough to make it to his pitstop caffeine refill? Another medium drip and side double shot of espresso were absolutely necessary.
A smile touched his lips when a reminder message popped up on his phone. Don’t forget on your new gloves! I didn’t buy them for just for looks! Call me if you get bored or tired on the drive. Love you! Xoxo, Kurt. Could Kurt get any sweeter? The answer was: Probably. Never underestimate Kurt Hummel’s power of adorable. Gathering his satchel up from the back of his chair–Blaine sent him a message back as he quickly stood and spun on his heels to go place his order.
He didn’t make it far. –Gloves! Don’t forget the gloves!– Too busy rooting through his things–head down and attention elsewhere–the short boy in a grey and red scarf and black woolen coat smacked directly into someone he didn’t notice was right there.
“Oh my–! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry,” he cringed then went into a panicked concern seeing hot coffee covering the front of the man’s coat. That had to hurt! “I wasn’t–! Are you okay??”
It was moments like these that Sebastian wished he had his entire house under surveillance. Being able to replay that look of complete shock was absolutely priceless. It only got better when Blaine looked as though he were trying to eat some air. “C’mon, you can use your words. I’ll only bite if you ask.” Rare form. That’s what Sebastian was in. He was normally flirty but he was just way too good tonight. Getting that reaction had his ego through the fucking roof at this point.
The finger on Blaine’s knee slowly circled further and further up mindlessly. Sebastian’s gaze didn’t leave Blaine’s. “Can’t what?” he whispered to him. His teeth bit down on his lip while the rest of the distance was closed between them. “Me? I’ve had plenty of wine.” Sebastian was the closest to Blaine that he had ever really been. “I love leaving you breathless, Blaine Warbler.” His voice was as rough as gravel, and incredibly low. He was going to go for it.
One hand curled around the back of Blaine’s neck and the other rested on his cheek as he leaned in to deliver a kiss upon those infamous lips.
Sebastian was only making this worse. Blaine’s hand fell from it’s fruitless swipes and pawing for his glass. Instead, it joined the other wrapped around ankles made bare by the tucked up cuffs of his pants legs. “Well. I’m not asking,” he was trying so hard to talk that his brows furrowed together from the effort, “so keep your teeth to yourself.” God, he could feel the pride rolling off Sebastian. He was getting his kicks for this! Completely unfair! Completely mean. Completely—Sebastian Smythe in a nutshell.
There was a faint sound that Blaine heard rather than acknowledge that he was the one who made it. A muffled simpering whimper caused by the finger moving up his knee. It laced an invisible tether through him that coiled around his center of gravity and gave it hard spin so fast that his brain felt like it was on a Tilt-A-Whirl and no one was shutting the ride off. Sebastian was so close and he knew he shouldn’t have let his feet move apart to make room for the body moving between them and nudging his calves away from one another to fit. They did it on their own and Sebastian was there. Closer than ever. Wine scented breath tasting of grapes and oak barrels and a flavor Blaine couldn’t pin down. Heavily lidded eyes flicked a glance from glistening lips upwards at the whisper of his name. Both of them.
The touches kept Blaine from leaning backwards, luring him in instead. When their lips touched–his eyes went their widest. Fingers dug into the couch and if he wasn’t sunk before? A groan took the last of his air as he went under.
“I know. That’s why I said it,” he laughed to himself. Sebastian was really getting his jabs in tonight. It was a fun time though. He was hoping he didn’t cross the line too much. Since when did Sebastian ever really care about the consequences of crossing the line? “Pancit and chicken? Damn, Blaine. You’re making me want to not break all the rules tonight. I don’t know how much of being a good boy I can take when I’m just oh so bad.”
“Have any ideas what our first duet should be? I personally think ‘Agony’ from Into the Woods would be a cute little number. Y’know, Disney Prince and all,” Sebastian offered up. Sebastian was in the process of seasoning the steaks as the oil in the pan heated up. “Shallots? Blaine, you’ve never seen shallots? I mean, I just call them ugly onions but yeah. I’ve got a huge world to show you, don’t I?” Sebastian took the well seasoned steaks and put them onto the skillet for cooking. The sizzling was music to his ears as he began to prepare some various veggies for the sauce. “Wanna be a doll and grab me out a bottle of red wine. It should say Leroy on it.” Sebastian’s hands were quickly wiped clean as he played some soft music on his phone.
A curious bob to the left and an even more curious lean to the right had him darting around Sebastian to watch what he was doing. He’d offer to help but Sebastian knew what he was doing and he didn’t want to get in the way. PS? He probably already was in the way with how close he was getting but Sebastian was taller than him–no comments, please?–and trying to see around him was difficult, okay? “Agony,” he laughed at the choice of a song and a delicate grip to Sebastian’s arm steadied his footing. “That’s perfect. I didn’t strike you as a Sondheim fan. Color me impressed.”
“I’ve seen shallots cooked. Not like that. Thank you. I’m not completely clueless in the kitchen,” his lips pressed together and curved into a gentle smile. “Maybe you do. Likewise. If you’ve never had proper noodles.” Sebastian wanted wine? “Sure,” he didn’t ask if he was distracting him by sending him on a wine run. He probably was getting tired of Blaine’s hovering and he wanted to help in some fashion. If grabbing a bottle of wine was all he could do? That’d work. He turned to glance around and found a small wine rack built into the wall. Letting his hand fall to his side as he pulled away–he crossed over and gently pulled the dark green bottle out from the others after a few tries to find the one Sebastian was asking for. “Found it. By the amount of dust on the bottle–should I send your parents half the cost? Or are you going to pretend you had no idea what happened to it?”
“Blaine,” he sighed, moving in his seat to lean forwards properly, a hand going to the others forearm and giving a squeeze – he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure him or try to apologise in part for what he’d just said. “Please don’t take that the wrong way. I didn’t mean it like that.” His opinion hadn’t changed, he still thought they made and amazing couple and he would continue to think that. Hell, if he was the jealous type when it came to relationships they would be at the top of his list, they really had it going for them.
“It’s just that, there’s a big difference between dating and getting married. It’s a really big commitment to make – hell I wouldn’t even consider it now, and I’m a few years older.” Even with his steady boyfriend a few years ago, it had been out of the question. “I do support you both – absolutely so – it’s just that I feel this is a bad idea at the moment.” He didn’t want to upset Blaine, or Kurt by extension, but with how suffocating the city could be, he felt marriage was a bad idea to add on top of that.
He felt his heart sinking deeper and he wasn’t sure anymore if Elliott’s advice was the main cause. There were so many warning signs that he and Kurt were rushing too fast. That maybe there were issues underlying their engagement that they needed to work on still. Kurt’s excitement when they daydreamed about their wedding–or any mention of the word, really, no matter who’s wedding it was–used to be so over the top. Colors, music, themes, delighted clapping while Kurt bounced on his feet gushing so much Blaine couldn’t get a word in. That’s how beautifully excited his fiance’ used to get. Lately? Getting a word out of him about a guest list seemed to give Kurt a migraine or to automatically start grinding his teeth together.
Just stress. Too much nervousness now that the reality of his own wedding was drawing near. So? Blaine countered it by taking on the bulk of the responsibility in hopes that Kurt would catch up after getting a break to get his excitement back and realize everything was going to be okay. Hearing someone else say otherwise peeled his blinders back too far. So far that his arm retracted from Elliott’s touch and both were wrapped around his middle. Chin tucked down–Blaine shrugged and stared at the cheap lacquer on the tabletop. “I know there’s a difference. But it’s not a bad idea. Nothing about Kurt and I is a bad idea,” his throat struggled to swallow and he was getting too defensive. Too caved in on himself for it to be solely a reaction to well meaning advice. “We’ve made it through too much to give up on our future now. A-And I’m not going to let that happen. I can’t.”
“Let’s get one thing straight, Blaine. It’s no secret that I want you. Literally, if I could, I’d have you face down, ass up in my bed right now. No joke, I’d literally have that ass sitting on my face like a mud mask. But I can’t. And that’s besides the point. So don’t play so coy and act like a little makeout sesh with me isn’t something you haven’t thought over at least a few times late at night when you’re trying to go to sleep but just can’t quite turn that cute, gelled brain of yours off.” Sebastian’s confidence came back screaming, louder than ever. Having to recover from that brief moment was a bit rough though. Blaine would probably hold this one over on him forever.
Sebastian reached to pour a little more wine into his glass, setting it close to Blaine. On both hands and knees he crawled slightly over. Resting up on his knees he ran a finger over Blaine’s knee so very slightly. “Not to mention your lips felt quite soft. I’ve gotta cross check ‘em with mine.” Sebastian wanted nothing more than to lean in and take one off him. Blaine really got him revved up. A talent to be had.
If Blaine’s jaw could touch the floor? That’s exactly where it’d be. Hell, it was halfway there by the end of that small rant. –Face down–ass–oh my God. MUD MASK?– What was he supposed to TRY to say to that? Sitting there in a little ball with a face changing from red to redder to reddest lava lamp style only made things worse because what the HECK could he find to fidget with? The answer? Not a dang thing, that’s what. All he could do was make a fish out of water motion with his mouth where there were supposed to be words coming out and only small noises were made instead. Speechless. Blaine was speechless and his attack on Sebastian that was a triumphant win was gone at such a breakneck speed–he was still suffering from the whiplash. Why didn’t he see this coming? He should know better by now.
He was knocked for a loop. One that had him holding onto his own ankles as a means of coming back down to Earth as Sebastian crawled towards him. The touch to his knee sent an electrical current over his skin from how light but oh-so-breathtaking it was. –You did that on purpose.– “C-Cant,” but his gaze towards Sebastian’s lips when he pointed them out darkened the hazel to the point that the gold and green in them seemed to be caught up in the whirlwind of a storm. He licked his own and slowly reached one hand towards the wine glass but came nowhere near grabbing it. They clutched at the air instead. “Thirsty–. Aren’t you? Wow. Could use a drink,” he whispered and forgot where he was staring until he tore that gaze away right into a set of green eyes dangerously close. “Can’t breathe..,” he mumbled so low it was like a confession spoken through tiny screens in hushed whispers on Sunday morning.
Sebastian knew he could get a blush out of Blaine without really trying. It was entertaining, and highly gratifying to get that bashful look going. Although, Sebastian hadn’t always had such a menacing and taunting nature. As a kid, he used to be quite polite and very well mannered. Through some unfortunate circumstances he became a much colder person. To him, the world was a competition and he refused to lose. Although, he didn’t quite get that same feeling from Blaine. Blaine was so incredibly genuine. Sebastian was very well aware of who he was. He didn’t quite understand why someone so good would hang out or even stomach someone who could become so incredibly toxic at the drop of a hat. It wasn’t something he would outwardly question out of fear of rejection, or losing a friend.
Sebastian halted in his very tracks and looked back at Blaine rather incredulously. “I’m quite offended you would even say that. It’s not like the French language dominates the cooking world and many great recipes originate from us. But you know, I’m interested to see how Filipino tastes in comparison. I’ve always wanted to taste a Filipino… dish,” he prodded him back with his words. “Plus, there’s nothing bland about being the best, Blaine.” Stepping into the kitchen he began to pull out what was left of food preparations. In case Blaine did want to cook, he had the filet mignon ready to go. “Noted. And I generally keep them in my satchel which is upstairs,” he mindlessly said as he rifled through cabinets to find aprons. “Maybe we can even do a song together for the hell of it.”
Blaine fumbled to a stop–mouth agape and eyes wide as he stared up at Sebastian at the sudden way they both came to a jarring halt. Did he offend him for real? That was so not his intention. There was an apology on the tip of his tongue when it came off like he might actually have. Until–Yep. There it was. The verbal poke to his ribs back that left Blaine shaking his head and wondering how he ever thought playfully picking on French cuisine would be enough to truly push Sebastian too far. Sebastian managed to walk quite a ways off with Blaine standing–fists on his hips and that owlish stare blinking at his back–until he tossed a roll of his eyes towards the ceiling and hurried to catch up. Both physically and witfully.
“You know. You’re right,” and he didn’t even touch the whole Filipino dish prod, “There is nothing bland about being the best, Sebastian.” He wished that hearing his name from Sebastian’s lips didn’t make him echoing Sebastian’s back come from a tight throat but it did. “That’s why pancit and chicken will always beat boring steak by yards if you ask me. But–hey–what do I know? You haven’t even tried it. If you play nice, I’ll invite you over and cook some. Until then,” he bowed with a wave of his hand towards the steaks laid out on the counter. “Steak it is.” Skirting up to stand beside him–Blaine’s fingers gripped the edge of the sink and he leaned around Sebastian’s arm to watch was he was doing. “I’d love to sing. We haven’t yet. Not really. It’d be fun. And–what–,” he pointed at some ingredient that he’d never seen before, “is that?”
pianokeysandbowties 