Dave’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel, a cheerful tune running through his head. The car was a bit weird, not like his usual car, but considering his own car was in the shop, it had been easier to just rent a car with Blaine. He grinned stupidly as he thought about the fact that he was about to go on an adventure with his boyfriend. Sure, it was only a short trip, and it wasn’t like this was the first time they had drove a long distance together, but this was their first road trip. Dave stuck his hand out the window, giving Blaine a wave when he noticed Blaine waving at him. How he had ended up dating Blaine, who turned out to be one of the greatest guys he met, he still wasn’t actually sure. Dave reached behind himself, fiddling with his backpack and moving around the cooler. “You have to have a cooler, David, what if you two got hungry and there wasn’t anything to eat for miles?” his dad had reason as he had started to pack the two of them a lunch. At that time, Dave had just rolled his eyes, but now he was hoping Blaine actually enjoyed it.
He watched as Blaine came out of the house, and tried not to be too amused by the multiple bags. Sliding out of the car, he reached forward to Blaine, a huge smile across his face. “Hey there,” he beamed, leaning in to hug his boyfriend. As he pulled back, Dave shook his head. “Nah, you could never have enough stuff, right? Besides, I can’t really say anything. I have my own bag and a suit carrier, and a backpack, plus my dad insisted on me bringing food for us,” he hummed, reaching for Blaine’s things. He had realized, when packing his bag, he couldn’t put his laptop in the bag, which meant he had to have a separate bag. “Thank you for coming with me Blaine, I really appreciate it,” Dave said suddenly, giving Blaine a grateful smile.
Dave greeted him with a smile that went on for days and a pair of arms waiting. Blaine was now well past thinking it was so strange to hug Dave back. All thanks to the man hugging him patiently giving him time and helping him to start working on his troubled mind. They both knew what it felt like to bottom out. Dave was there to listen and understood. He was apart from the close inner circle of friends that made Blaine feel too guilty of possibly making think they had to chose ‘sides’ –there weren’t any sides, he knew that now but not then– to hear him out. At three o’clock in the morning when Blaine felt like he was losing it? Dave always picked up the phone to talk him down and refused accept an apology for the phone ringing at an ungodly hour. In Dave’s opinion? None were ever needed.. When he started therapy? Dave drove him to the doctor that he recommended. There were more things, small and big that Dave did for him and never asked anything back but Blaine’s company.
What was Dave to him? A boyfriend. An unexpected turn that took him off a dark road right before he drove off the steepest cliff he’d ever sped towards. Dave was someone who was there and Blaine was grateful. Instead of holding back–Blaine stepped into the hug and it was warm and soft lasted only for a minute. More than enough time for him to lift up onto his toes to press a kiss to Dave’s cheek because his arms were too full to hug him back properly. Blaine laughed and shrugged out of his bags to hand them over. “Uh–Sure,” he grinned happily, “Or you are too sweet to ask me what the heck.” The thank you made Blaine blink, mouth open in surprise. “You’re welcome. Hey! I’m excited about this! We’re going to have fun and–? Thanks to your dad? We’re already ahead.” Reaching over–Blaine gripped Dave’s elbow and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you for inviting me, Dave. Let’s get out of this town. Last one in the car pumps gas first. Race ya?” Yea! That happened. So said the view of Blaine’s back as he suddenly jerked into a jog towards the passenger side.
Dave stared at his bag, trying to think of anything else he could possible pack for that weekend. It wasn’t like it was anything big, he was just going to be hanging out with Blaine and devouring ice cream – – Ice cream, he needed to pick up some ice cream, especially chocolate ice cream, maybe some more butterscotch ice cream too, but he wasn’t sure if Blaine would like that kind. All else fails, he knew he could get Neapolitan and have multiple flavors covered in one go. Maybe he shouldn’t over think the ice cream thing, it wasn’t that big of a deal.
After leaving the house and then spending twenty minutes trying to pick out the perfect ice creams, including bothering the shop attendant about what their favorite flavors were and what their partner liked, he was finally on the highway to Westerville. “Siri, text Blaine,” he called out, grateful Siri worked hands free in the car. As Siri responded, he let out a breath. “I should be there in a half hour! Feel free to call if you want or i’ll just call when I get there!” he called out, and confirmed the send.
Blaine lit one last vanilla candle and sat it on the mantle next to three others before deciding that was enough unless he wanted to make it look too obvious he spent most of the day getting an already perfectly put together house even more–put together? Taking a step back and breathing deep through a crease between the edges of his hands, the sides of both pointer fingers ran up the bridge of his nose and crossed thumbs rubbed the curves of his chin. Too much for binge watching movies and ice cream? Candles didn’t need to be a part of the equation but doing all of this put the nervous beating of butterfly wings against his stomach at ease.
Otherwise? He’d be checking his phone repeatedly to see if something came up. Or another twist of fate that he couldn’t believe was actually going his way for the short while it had been was suddenly back to not being in his favor and messed up their plans just for it’s own amusement. Reason One when his phone vibrated he smirked at it figuring he’d given himself some movie quality foreshadowing and mucked it up on his own by somehow willing the worst to happen. Both brows rose when he saw the message and the worrying of his teeth against his lip became a smile. He quickly called back not giving Dave enough time to blurt out hello–Blaine started talking. “Eyes on the road, Dave. Not on text messages. Call me when you get here. Sorry. Hi,” he waited rolling his eyes ceilingward at how much he sounded like a lecturing, overprotective dad instead of a–. Oh. Yeah. Phone call. Right-right!
Kurt would laugh given another situation Blaine was fumbling around his much, but he couldn’t think of one comment to make none the less bring up a chuckle. When the door was left cracked open Kurt went ahead and shut it while Blaine made his way around. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip – surprisingly not swollen, thanks to there only been two blows to the head in the haste – instead of biting it. “Not home.” He looked out the windshield, eventually at some of the drops of water running down it. Kurt shrugged. “No where else to go.” The only people he might trust with this were few, his last resort would have been Finn if not for home meaning parents, and he didn’t know where the two others lived. He has no doubt none of them would be helpful other than warming him up and keeping their mouths shut but that’s probably all he can ask for right now. Great.
He wants to ask why go through the trouble, but instead he fumbles. “Yours. I don’t… There’s no where else.” He spared another glanced to Blaine then. With a heavy sigh, Kurt drew his knees to his chest and raked a hand through his hair. He’d say more, but only opens and closes his mouth a few times silently.
Unlike his parents most of the time? His aunt and uncle that he stayed with for the weekend were home. Showing up in the late evening with a broken and battered boy who looked like Kurt wouldn’t go over well.
He knew his mom was due back today and if she made it? After the drive it’d take to get back to Westerville–she’d be long asleep and there wouldn’t be any waking her up. Blaine couldn’t take his concerned gaze off Kurt’s profile as he tried to think of the possibilities they had–checking out each bruise that he could see from his hands up wishing he had the power to fix him right then and there so he wouldn’t be hurting anymore. Because? Even if Kurt was trying to pass himself off as being okay–he had to be in pain. A heavy sigh warmed the air and Blaine nodded. Left with no other way out? Kurt was coming home with him. With either a blessing of an empty house and an apology voicemail on his phone–there was none, he’d have noticed–or the magic of Ambien? It was their safest and least possibility for him getting caught option.
“Sure. We can go to my house. Did they hurt your head? Do I need to keep you awake? Or can you get some sleep,” he asked as he finally forced himself to focus on driving and steered onto the street leading towards the highway. They could stop at a convenience store along the way and he’d be able to get him a drink, some aspirin and a few other things to make him more comfortable. That was a lot of questions but they were sort of necessary and if they were going to spend that much time together in the car? Sitting in silence trying to figure out what the hell happened to him or how worried he had to be besides what he could see for himself was only going to make this situation even more awkward.
Finn had been lying in the living for a while watching television. He had taken the opportunity of being alone to turn the living room in his cave and hibernate there for late night movie sessions. He was perfectly comfortable sitting on the couch in his pajama bottoms and his feet propped up on the coffee table as he drunk a few beers. He raked his fingers through his hair then stretched his legs out as he slouched down more. He was on his sixth exploitation movie and he was well into his much need marathon when he swore he could hear something outside on the porch. He looked toward the door and stood up carefully, the last thing he wanted was to be murdered in Captain America pajama pants. Finn grabbed a vase and walked over to the door and looked through the peep hole when he saw someone lying on the ground. He murmured under his breath and sat the vase down so he could open the door and it was Blaine. Blaine “Dapper” Anderson on his ass.
“What the hell are you doing out here, dude?” Finn didn’t mean to sound so irritated but he was confused and he was a little annoyed. He didn’t expect anyone to just show up at his place. Well, his mom’s place but while she was out of town with Burt it his place. At least until they got back. He reached down and pulled Blaine up then lifted him from the ground with a grunt. Finn walked into the house and kicked the door shut. He walked into the living room and unceremoniously dropped Blaine into the recliner then he sat down and looked at him, shaking his head. “Are you drunk?”
Yeah–laying on a hard, cold surface wasn’t the most comfortable but the chill on his cheek felt good. Blaine let his eyes close because laying still made the world start to spin. Losing track of time is easy to someone as hammered as Blaine was. How long ago did he knock on the door? A few minutes? Less? Hours ago was what it seemed. Building up the mind to move? Gonna take longer than that. A boat shoed foot slid several inches. See? Movement! The building blocks to getting up were already being laid. Sooner or later? He’d get there! God, how’d he end up this bad off? Too many thoughts and even more liquor to be drank. That’s how. No refresher course needed but he gave himself one anyway. Finn’s voice tugged him from the road he nearly lead himself down. The exact one he swallowed so much alcohol to avoid.
One eye cracked open and he lifted a hand, palm out and crooked fingers waving a plea. “It’s not what it looks like.” What the hell else could it be? Not that he had time to answer! Strong arms wrapped around his body, gravity shifted and he was hoisted off the ground. Warmth surrounded him once he was inside, feet kicking for grounding that they just couldn’t get the entire way until he gave up about four feet from the chair. Blaine went down like a marionette with the strings cut landing in whatever position his limbs went when Finn plopped him. A leg cocked out, one bent and hands cupped together in his lap. His head fit perfectly into the crease of the side and back of the chair. Half-shut eyes wandered his stare over to the confused man–mouth opening and closing around silent words. Shaking his head no–he went the opposite route with what he said, “Yeah. I think I am.” He lifted his hand and pinched his thumb and pointer together, nose scrunched in a ‘no big deal’ cringe. “Ah–I–mean a little. Hi. Thanks for bringing me in–it wasn’t very comfortable on your porch.”
Duran wasn’t sure a bright red blush, and a choke of his drink was an appropriate reaction to Blaine offering to teach him how to tie a bowtie. Blaine had a boyfriend, and they’d just barely met. There was no way Duran should already be this flustered at the thought of being in close proximity to someone so cute. He tried to regain control, pretending he was just choking briefly and that his reaction had NOTHING to do with the offer. “Yeah,” he said with a grin. “I’ll have to take you up on that sometime.”
He leaned back and took a couple of deep breaths until his breathing returned to normal. It was enough to let him respond to Blaine. “Yeah, I mean, yeah. I don’t know him, but it might be fun. Plus I don’t want to seem like I’m doing something wrong.” He didn’t want to outright admit he was afraid that this Kurt would be jealous and insecure. He figured if he offered a preemptive olive branch, things would go a lot more smoothly between all parties.
“I’m not a fan of science fiction,” Duran admitted. He felt a sense of guilt admitting that, even if he couldn’t explain why. It had just never appealed to him much before, and his brother has tried several times. “I love action and suspense though.” Even if they couldn’t agree on the genre, there were still several movies they could pick from. “I’ll even take a good action comedy. That’s probably my favorite.” He grinned.
Killing a guy by offering to show him how to tie a bowtie was not on Blaine’s list of things to do today. By the looks of it? He almost did. Duran’s reaction had a similiar one in Blaine though his was more internal than broadcasted for Duran to see. His throat tightened, fingers gripped onto his coffee cup til the color in their tips bled out and he almost asked him if he was okay. Yet–he didn’t. Judging by the sheer suddenness of the display–Blaine had a good idea that Duran had no inkling that it was coming and he wasn’t going to embarrass them both by pointing it out.
“I was–I mean if you want to learn? The offer’s there. Any time,” was all he’d say to it before moving onto greener–and more comfortable–pastures. Patiently waiting until Duran could talk easier, he ignored that he felt his own cheeks growing warmer in the meantime and nodded. “Yeah. I think it would be fun. A lot of fun. I’ll ask Kurt if–hm? Something wrong,” he took the conversation back a sentence or two. “No. You haven’t done anything wrong by inviting me. Why would–.” Oh! Oh? The 40 watt shine from the lightbulb in his head amped up to 100 watts and so did the coloring dusting Blaine’s cheeks. “Right. Right. No. No. Nothing to balk at or side-eye. Promise.”
Jumping back onto the topic of movies–Blaine laughed off Duran’s dislike of his favorite genre shrugging it off. “It’s okay. I’m finding out since Dalton? I think I know one or two people as into it as me. Action comedies are great. Kurt’s more the Breakfast At Tiffany’s and Moulin Rouge type but I’m sure we can all find something to agree on.” Or at least the two of them could while Kurt begrudgingly sat through Hot Fuzz or 21 Jump Street? Oh boy. There’d be a cheesecake owed after a night spent doing that.
What Blaine had said about Sebastian’s father loosing his mind was true in some ways. He was going to be furious for sure, but after months pass by he’s going to let his son drift away. This was all a manual on how to disappear completely. Sebastian knows the credit cards will be shut off eventually, && he probably won’t even belong to the Smythe name ever again. No more obnoxious dinner parties, nothing. That’s what happened with Sebastian’s deceased older brother, Damian. He passed of a drug overdose because he was bullied at Dalton && Mr. Smythe wanted to forget that his eldest child was ever even born. Suicide was weak, he used to say. Mr. Smythe put a halt to bullying at Dalton back in 2005 because of Damian’s tragic death but refused to talk about it after that. Demands of removing pictures that had any with Damian’s face && pretending like the mistake child, Sebastian, was the only one left. Eventually, Sebastian was an artificial only child. Now, he knows he’ll end up being cut out of the family picture too. If only half the people knew how fucked up things were behind the curtains. Luckily Blaine standing up to his feet && pulling Sebastian into a hug woke him up from the deep thought trail of his family situation. He had always been curious to know more about Blaine’s relatives. The closest he ever got was coming to hang out in his room, && Sebastian wasn’t quite the ‘bring home to mother’ type.
Sebastian wrapped around Blaine tightly, smiling widely as he wishes for it to last longer. New York was all so new, so many strangers. A familiar voice && heartbeat alike was nice in between all of the change he’d been enduring. As their bodies pull away from each other, he glances down at the seat that had been offered to him. Blaine wanted him to sit? Sebastian still found it crazy that Blaine Anderson wasn’t on a date right now. It was almost too good to be true. His lips part, head almost ready to slowly shake no because even a small part of him couldn’t believe this was happening. But he looks around to see his date still hasn’t shown himself, the hot power bottom from Tinder might not show himself at all. Which, suddenly, was starting to sound perfect to Sebastian. He sits down, a smirk spreading across his face like this was all a parallel of the first time they sat at a table across from each other during Sebastian’s freshman year. ❛ —–Actually… No. I don’t have any plans. I had something but decided to cancel.
❜&& by cancel, he meets he just now decided Blaine was becoming his plans for the night.
❛
I could continue to ask you the same question. How is the one && only Blaine Anderson spending Valentines Day alone?❜
Sebastian sitting down made the answer to his question pretty crystal clear and there was a leap of joy in Blaine’s pulse that picked up the tempo. Valentine’s Day with Sebastian Smythe via quick darting escape of his should-be date? Weirder things have happened in Blaine’s life. Sure. But this was right up there in the top five. He settled into the chair, palms pressed to the table and the same bright eyed, cheeky smile he had since the hug lasted through his chair scooting forward. It even endured the excited fidget with the tablecloth he didn’t realize he was doing. Until he did–and made himself stop. Blaine should have expected the inevitable question of how he ended up at a restaurant alone on Valentine’s Day. Was it horrible of him to wish it was just put off until there were a few more drinks in their systems and either his instinctual aversion of his gaze towards the floor wouldn’t have happened. Or if it did? Sebastian would be too buzzed to notice–or so he’d hope. That way? Then the dying out of the light in his eyes wouldn’t have stood out as much as it probably did the second either. He flinched, snagged the edge of his bottom lip and both brows shot up.
“I–uh. Long story,” roughly translated into Blaine was about to skip most of it because it wasn’t one he was quick to share with many people. He didn’t go rushing off to talk to anyone about it. Barely answered any phone calls from the ones who knew. His status on social media was probably the same because he hadn’t logged onto it since. If anyone missed it? It was his problem. On purpose. Not theirs. It was just a wound he liked leaving closed and every time it got brought up? He swore all it did was pick open the scratch. “We came back here and things were great. Really great. Then? Really great fell into sort of okay and that ended up turning out to be not good at all. A few months ago? Not good at all turned into nothing at all and he–um. Nothing was anyone’s fault–I think? I never got many answers.” His chest rose sharply with a deep breath through his nose. When he stopped staring at his hands and looked at Sebastian instead? The spark was there again but he returned to being all smiles. “Anyway! That’s how I ended up spending Valentine’s Day alone.” Here came the stuttered bait and switch. Jokingly confused gaping mouth to top it off and drive it home. “Did you change your plans five minutes ago? Or did you before? Because,” his fingers steepled in his chest and his head cocked to the side, “I don’t want to be the person responsible for two people being stood up on Valentine’s Day..eh..wait..damn it. Um. Ignore that.”
Ah yes, now he had company in the land of awkward. Barry had his lips pursed together was the other seemed to take in what was right in front of him. He kept himself from lightly laughing at the whole situation. It seemed like some bad rom-com movie, or some weird twilight zone going on here. The young CSI wasn’t sure which one was worse, or maybe it was a mixture of the two. Man, when his friends hear about this from him they’re probably laugh. Well, if he tells them anyway. For now that was very unlikely.
He managed to chuckle a bit, taking back his wallet, and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I’m pretty sure I’d know if I had a brother,” although… Iris had no idea about her brother– nah, his parents wouldn’t. And his dad would have told him, especially after his mom was killed. It’s a nice idea though, having a brother. Meh. Anyway, moving on!
At least this had made his slightly boring day interesting. It’s not exactly every day that you get mistaken for your doppelganger. Maybe he’ll tell Len, only because he’d probably be the only one that wouldn’t really everyone. But he would also need to endure the older man’s teasing.
“What?” he looked confused, considering he had gotten lost in his train of though just a moment ago. But he got the jest of what the other was saying. And felt his cheeks a bit red, coughing slightly, and glancing away. “That was– my first kiss from a guy,” Barry muttered softly, the guy’s lips were rather soft. “I– um, it’s okay don’t worry about it, I mean it didn’t bother me.” Honestly, the other looked more freaked out than he did. “So like– it’s nice to met you? Even in these really weird circumstances?” His stomach grumbled again, “…. lunch?”
‘That was– my first kiss from a guy.’
If Blaine wasn’t already mortified about this whole situation and how he just managed to plant his lips on the mouth of a perfect stranger that happened to look exactly like a certain someone else who wouldn’t find this situation remotely funny? Oh, hold up. On the other hand? Sebastian would probably find this hilarious after the whole letting his mind settle in that he had a mirror image of himself walking around New York City. Because Sebastian was just on this side of sadistic that Blaine suffering over how he wanted to open up a hole in the ground and crawl inside would be outright entertainment.
Stepping back a few seconds? If Blaine wasn’t already mortified – hearing that he just became Barry’s first kiss from a guy? Put the nail in the coffin of his composure. Stupefied–Blaine only bowed his head slowly while he lit up like someone flipped the switch to a fireplace and set it ablaze. Stuttering tongue refusing to work right had him uttering a broken and rattled. “I- If- You’re first–wow– you sure?” There was two sentence in there. Whatever came out was a jumbled concoction of–needing a serious lifeline before he about faced and walked out the door.
Yet Barry stood there with a grumbling belly and food on the mind like he was barely rattled. Hazel eyes blinked and Blaine palmed over his mouth waving his fingers once he reached the opposite side from where he started but the heel of his hand dug against his chin without lowering. “Y-yeah. Nice to meet you–hold on. You want to have lunch,” he asked through his fingers.
Blaine figured he owed the poor guy if he was the one to steal his first kiss from a man. Without second guessing if he should, he agreed. “Sure. That’d be great. My treat. An apology for the,” remembering he was cupping his lips, he flicked his wrist pointing between their lips again and breathed deep so his smile wasn’t as nervous and just–warmly apologetic.
Kurt blinked when Blaine yelled, taking a few steps back just to be safe as he watched the other scramble about for a moment. “It was a little funny though.” He said softly, a smile pulling at his lips. “I’ll get you an aspirin and some water.” He’d clue him in now except, well, the least he could do was let Blaine loose some of the ache and gain some more consciousness before too much conversation took place. He knew Blaine’s house still, so the time it takes him to find what he needs is really just to look around. Last time he saw Blaine it was at Dalton where nothing changed but the students. He supposed it wasn’t likely that anything in the house had changed either, but he still wanted to take his time a little bit. He’d start a pot of coffee while he’s at it too.
Kurt tries not to feel too nostalgic here, but he can’t help the small sighs and soft smiles. When he returns to Blaine’s room it’s with a glass of water and two aspirins as promised. “If you’re falling asleep then I have every intention of waking you up in worse ways.” He says as he enters the room. Granted, he’s used to waking up Oliver, who would need at least ten alarms before he stopped hitting the snooze button if he had anything specific to wake up for. There were only a few ways to get Kurt quiet however, and mornings are usually much more of a fight with them than it was with Blaine. Of course, comparing those two was like comparing night and day- a strangely fitting analogy for them actually.
“Funny?! How was that funny,” Blaine grabbed hold of the pillow and pulled it over his head shutting out the light in the room and giving a buffer to any background noise other than Kurt’s voice. “That would be great. Thank you,” his tone softened and he managed to smile in spite of the knives stabbing into his temples that happened in one explosion of ache. Yeah–bad life choices that were his own undoing? He swore to himself it’d be the last time he put himself through this hell. Just like every other regretful, hungover poor bastard come sunrise. If his head would stop spinning long enough? There might be enough umph! in him to come out from his hiding spot and give that curve of his lips to Kurt’s back as he walked out of the room but so far? Not going to happen. Aspirin and water could draw him out. No doubt about that. Until then? Kurt deserved the company of Blaine’s hidden face and legs helplessly squirming to get comfortable after they tried to kick the pain away to no avail.
One thing stuck in his mind though. Enough that he might consider the headache and nausea a small price to pay for. His house was locked for the night, he didn’t expect it–might’ve hoped for it in vain but definitely not expected Kurt to show up in the morning. But he was here and that meant so much more than Blaine’s common sense told him he should let it. Preaching to the choir. A silly saying considering the circumstances and who they revolved around but–that’s what it was when it came to his heart feeling a bit lighter and–no. He needed a distraction and the throbbing in his head was waiting in the background to give him one with a vengeance level dosage. “Oh God–don’t. I don’t want to know what could be worse than that,” he mumbles after a small startle from his stillness at the sound of Kurt’s voice. Without retracting from his pillow cover–Blaine jutted out his hand, palm up, and waved his fingers frantically for the Aspirin. “Please tell me you found it?”
A smarter person might wait longer. It’s been a while since he saw Blaine and there was still time before he left, but less now. He had an eternity to live his life and create new ones when he simply couldn’t avoid questions about his never-aging face, but Kurt wasn’t one to wait around. This may be in part why he chose to see Blaine. It may not be quite the right time yet, but he dismissed the possibility in favor of disturbing Blaine’s definite hangover. Now, demons didn’t have some magic way of slipping into people’s homes, but something Oliver taught him before that became relevant was how to get into almost any building at any time. The guy wasn’t the most classy, what could he say. It came in handy, obviously. So yes, Kurt was breaking and entering, but really, what else was expected of him given his… State of being? That sounded about right. Once the door is shut behind himself, he wonders if it’s possible to have lost a social standard or something because since when did Kurt Hummel break into bedrooms instead of knocking? He shook off his concerns easily enough.
It wasn’t exactly early, but it was a weekend and judging by last night, Blaine could probably sleep for a lot longer. This was also something Kurt dismissed. He waited about five minutes, started to debate how to go about waking his friend for another two, and finally just pulled the pillow from under Blaine’s head.
Blaine was sprawled out on the bed thanks to having been dropped there. One sober moment of clarity crossed his mind during the night. A huge revelation came when he saw the string of text messages he was blabbering to Kurt in–I miss you being the confession he started his night out trying to forget? The only thing that would erase his mistake of keeping his cellphone on him was more alcohol. A bad potentially idea that ended up–kinda good? His friends were more than happy to keep the drinks coming so he didn’t notice when someone–he had no idea who–did him the favor of putting his cellphone in their pocket. Three shots later–their Blaine was back. Out on the dancefloor laughing drunkenly and dancing until the lights came on. He was so sleeping in. The house was empty. If anyone crashed? They didn’t pass out in his bedroom so he had quiet and dark and it was perfect. His last thoughts were that his bed felt too good and maybe he might regret his life choices when he woke up with his pending hellacious hangover–and then nothing. Until he felt the stomach churning sensation that he was falling, too dead asleep to realize it was only his head. Blaine’s entire body reacted.
He gasped for air like he was drowning, hazel eyes flung open wide and every limb seemed to scramble for something to kick or hang onto–the side of the bed worked–to keep himself from meeting his doom on the floor. His mind didn’t quite make sense of anything either and he shouted in panic. “OH God! I’m FALL–,” his scream made his temples burst and splinter up his skull. Blaine buried his face back down into the sheet, hand waving as if to say he was okay before he cracked an eye open and peeked up at–Kurt instantly blushing ten shades of red. “That wasn’t okay.. That was not okay..oh God my head hurts…” Groaning–he covered his face with his arm and fell back onto the bed wanting nothing more than to lay there.
In spite of his current reason for answering Sebastian’s invite to Dalton for a party off the record? Meaning most of the Warblers were holed up in one of the unused parts of the attic upstairs getting hammered the night before Spring Break–Blaine’s lingering so-so mood took a complete 180 degree turn into one of the best he’d been in for months. Laughing his way out of the room and practically falling over his feet–the banister and his quick grip preventing him from losing a few teeth against the marble floor–Blaine stumbled away from the noise upstairs in favor of wandering off.
It felt good to be here. Too good. The conversation he made Sebastian promise they’d stop having–mainly him coming back–kept returning to the front of his mind repeatedly. Yes. Time to leave them to finish out their night. He was in too great of a mood to stop humming to the tune in his head making it enough noise to drown out the chatter from Sebastian lingering in his thoughts. Oh and getting away from that Hunter guy he still wasn’t overly impressed with was an added bonus. Bouncing a shoulder off the wall–Blaine patted it and gave it an apologetic look stopping his solo performance for concentrational purposes. Way too drunk to drive and not wanting to leave but not wanting to admit that either–he stopped in front of Trent’s door thinking he’d say hello and taunt him for not showing up.
Problem was? He missed the right door by two and was already knocking barely letting it open before he launched into a louder than usual, “Trent! I’m seriously offended that you shrugged off–,” huge grin that grew while he waited greeted–Oh! Duran. Totally on purpose right?! RIGHT! “He-hey–you aren’t,” his expression turned from giddy to dumbfounded. “Duran! What.. Did I get the wrong door? I did,” a hand slapped over his mouth and his apology was muffled and barely made sense, “I’m so sorry.”
pianokeysandbowties 