Sebastian respectively stayed quiet while propped against the wall ( Semi choosing silence for now because he was too scared to do anything else )&& watched Blaine with a forced half smile, listening to him add more to his answer && somehow shift from from a simple great to nervous. Of course he was nervous, from all Sebastian knew it was pretty normal to be nervous on your wedding day. Sebastian connected with the feeling all too much in a different sort of way, like two puzzle pieces seeming as if they are meant to fit together but the slightest difference comes between them being the perfect match. Why? Because Sebastian was more nervous than ever right now too. Not for the same reasons, but because thoughts were floating around that somehow needed to end in him admitting his love. As Blaine proclaimed his happiness, Sebastian tries to smile as best as he can, but still hanging his head low. Some part of him hoped that Blaine had to make it so clear because it wasn’t the truth. Almost forgetting to answer for a brief amount of time, he drops out of deep thought && stutters a moment.
❛ Oh, uh—— ❜ He scrunches his nose, trying to remember what was going on after getting lost in his nervousness. Fuck, he thought. He was being so obvious, it wasn’t too hard to see that Sebastian was off his game. Luckily for him Blaine could be a little clueless at times. ( A part of him that Sebastian, of course, loved ) Swallowing what felt like a lump growing in his throat, he coughs to mask the heavy breathing that had become his anxieties. ❛ I’m sorry, Blaine… What were you saying? I think the glass of champagne I had is getting to my head. ❜Lies. It was something else that was getting to his head && that couldn’t be closer to the truth.
Blaine watched the tip of his finger drag across the polished countertop of the vanity he leaned on. Sebastian was being quiet. Abnormally quiet enough that Blaine couldn’t help picking up on something being off. A giant something that the back of his mind reached out, touched and caused his stomach to gnaw itself as it clenched up while he played a game of connect the dots that he didn’t really have to play to figure out the reason why.
The image of Sebastian came into view and he watched him in the glass. Cowardly as it was– Blaine made no move to turn around. Sure, he was great at pretending and lying to himself that he was clueless as to what might be going through Sebastian’s mind to freeze his usual quicksilver tongue. Didn’t mean he could lie to himself while standing there in a silence that swallowed him up more and more the longer it lasted. What’d that say about him that he didn’t have to look Sebastian in the eye to know what he’d find if he did? Or that he was glad that, for now, if he kept his back turned to him purposefully? He wouldn’t have to face it in person.
Sebastian continued to stare at the floor. Blaine continued to watch the glass image of a man who was battling with demons Blaine wasn’t sure should be let free. Not here. Not now. Because it was too late. ‘Clueless’–maybe sometimes–but he was not an idiot. Sebastian’s face was crumpling and Blaine’s stomach bottomed out. The sound of a cough made Blaine press his fingers against the vanity until their tips drained of color. What was he saying? He didn’t remember! Blaine’s mouth opened–silently stuttering for a reply that didn’t come easy–he tried so hard to come up with something wildly blinking out of the daze his own anxiousness to open his mouth brought on. “—-I don’t remember. I’d blame the champagne but I haven’t touched the stuff since this morning. I don’t–Sorry–W-What were you saying?” That wasn’t supposed to be what came out. A garbled mess of nothing mixed with repeating back what Sebastian said? What the hell?
He was mush. Putty in Blaine’s hands. It’s probably easier to relax knowing that it is Blaine who’s behind him. It was nice to be so comfortable around someone. Talking was kind of the last thing on his mind right now – he couldn’t see himself not rambling or mumbling and embarrassing himself somehow – mostly because he wasn’t sure what he should be doing in this particular situation. He tried to hold still and quiet and not think too much but there was confliction there. He wasn’t overthinking it exactly, but he was starting to notice every movement. He wasn’t huge on hugging and here he was being touched and god it was nice. He found himself holding his breath briefly, and as carefully as possibly let the air out in hopes it went unnoticed. Kurt’s not sure what he would do or say if he was called out on anything right now. Translating his feelings into words was difficult at times like this.. Although there weren’t times exactly like this, only some with similar difficulty levels. Good lord if his brain could just shut off the rest of the way…
It was just Blaine though. His friend. His best friend. His best friend who was joking and nudging him but also making his face a rather pink shade.
Only Kurt would be able to find such a mixture of nervous and relaxed, he’s sure. He chuckled softly all the same.
All he got was a quiet chuckle? Blaine went for a full on laugh from the nervously breathing boy –don’t think he didn’t notice, he did because it was his self-proclaimed job to pick up on little things like that from Kurt– in hopes that he would just relax for once and he got a barely there chuckle? Dusted with a hint of blushing all the way to his ears that Blaine could see from his vantage point behind him? No fair! He was glad that he couldn’t see his half-pouting frown before he let his forehead come to rest against the back of Kurt’s head. As observant as he was–or thought himself to be–Blaine failed to connect the dots between what that gesture might cause. The closeness, his breath against the fine hairs lining the back of Kurt’s neck. This was just him being him and wanting to make Kurt feel safe, secure and not have the muscles in his back give the bark of a dogwood tree a run for it’s money in the number of knots he could find if he tried hard enough.
After a few minutes, Blaine watched his right hand nudging at a particularly tough spot on the small of Kurt’s back but his eyelids were getting heavier. So was his head.
He went quiet after a yawn just letting things settle down holding Kurt close with the other arm loosely stretched over his stomach. A slight slant of his posture, Blaine’s temple and cheek fell to rest on Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt’s massage slowed to a stop as Blaine’s hand fell limply into his lap. Yep. The tired Warbler was out like a light. Breathing in a soft, steady rhythm like he’d been the one getting a rub down. Not the other way around. Leaving Kurt with the option to wiggle free or become an upright body pillow.
He wanted to lie. As he saw Blaine’s frantic movement and heard that kind of voice he wanted to apologize again but he couldn’t leave things as they were. It was all or nothing, to an extent. He couldn’t chicken out. He’d have to explain more another time, when things were less of a shock. Then he’d go on to say that nothing else was real. No angels, no fairy tail creatures, just another species of creature that entered the human ‘world’ a long time ago.
When Kurt found out about these things, it wasn’t someone he loved. It was someone he was fond of but he didn’t really know Oliver and didn’t mind that. The disbelief, he went through that, but he didn’t have this moment that Blaine was. Kurt was composed as he listened to his friend and he took in another deep breath. “I can’t lie to you, Blaine. Not about this.” He shook his head but kept his eyes – he was freaked out by them the first day himself – locked on him, as if Blaine might not believe it without some kind of proof staring at him. “I’d love to tell you it’s not real but it is.”
If he knew what Oliver was when they met, he wondered if things would have been different. He felt like he’s been tricked – lured – in when he found out. He trusted this boy to guide him blindly almost every night, like he’d never normally do, and the guy was a demon. That sense of betrayal felt so small now. He hadn’t been one himself this entire time, no, but he left to become one knowingly. How much did that sting? Was it only confusing because human feelings felt more distant now or was it truly how different their experiences were? Where did his empathy go?
Never in his life did Blaine think that he would be putting distance between him and the man sitting on his bed staring at him–but he was. Step by step until his back was pressed against the door and he ran out of space to move any further. –Instinct? Fear? Room to breathe? He had no idea, he was just moving.– Nor would he ever dream that he couldn’t meet Kurt’s eyes. Looking inside of them had always felt like peering into a window and realizing he was home. Now they dropped Blaine’s heart when he realized that they might not be anymore. –Who was he kidding?– They weren’t. –Were they?–
Knowing that made him stare at the metal headboard past Kurt’s head unable to take what he saw and that sinking feeling in his gut that his doubts were real. There was nothing he could do but listen because it was the truth and truth was so important between them. From moment one up to now. No matter if it was breaking into pieces he wasn’t sure how he could fix. Or if he was the only one of them to remember for months that they promised to always be honest. Blaine’s mind was reeling. He could beg Kurt for it to be a lie–part of him desperately wanted to–but Kurt couldn’t give that to him.
“You left me for that,” he immediately regretted asking. “You left everyone for,” a shaking hand waved at Kurt before both reached up and shoved through his hair loosening the usually tamed curls and causing some to hang down. Balling them into fists next, he dug into his eyes. When he stopped, they were red and his lashes barely held back tears that were bound to start falling with the next crackling exhale. “How–? Why–? What did I do to make you think that this is what you wanted?” His mind continued to scream that this wasn’t real, that this was impossible. He could hear it so loud that it made his head hurt but all he could think to ask was how, why and what?
I know exactly what I’m asking you, && I know you wanna have fun with me, Blaine. Nobody has to know, regret free. It will be our dirty little secret. Just you && me, sexy.
❜
he whispers back, tongue sliding across his lips as his hand runs up his chest slowly, feeling his skin && fantasizing the touch was from no other than Blaine Anderson himself. A moment of silence passed before he smirks, knowing the silence was because of what he had just said. Sebastian loved shocking people into not being able to speak at all.
❛
After tonight? I’ll pretend like it never even happened. My lips will be sealed, free of charge. Unless you count making me cum as a fair trade… ❜
he wished that he didn’t have to add the part about him pretending like it never even happened afterwards. Sebastian wished that in some perfect world they could have phone sex && be able to remember it && talk about it afterwards, but Sebastian knew Blaine wasn’t openly into him.
He knew that a happy ending just wasn’t how his life worked out, && if he had to take the bittersweet version of things, he gladly would. He would take the best he could get with Blaine because as long as it meant spending time with him, it was more than good enough. It wouldn’t have mattered if it was phone sex or not, but phone sex was a way to be bold. Boldness was always something Sebastian used to get Blaine’s attention. Sebastian just happened to be beyond hot && bothered for Blaine since they first met. Sebastian wanted this, he wanted it now. Maybe Blaine would realize how amazing it feels to drown in all of the attention Sebastian has to offer for just a moment. Even if it was a fluke moment of intimacy && never being able to experience it again, it was a risk he would take.
Of course Sebastian knew what he was asking Blaine to do and Blaine knew he didn’t care either. His whisper rose goosebumps along Blaine’s arms, legs. A heavy sigh broke apart and turned into a whimper left his lip that the back of Blaine’s hand lingering there did nothing to hide. “After tonight? You promise? Not a word–” His bargaining was cut short by a gasp at a mention of ‘fair trade’ that had his pulse so fast and hard that he felt turned upside down. Like he could even pretend he had a leg to stand on anymore. If he did it was barely doing it’s job as his fingertips grazed over that newly exposed skin above his waistband and he felt his body give into a chilled shudder. More pinpricks of rose in their wake along Blaine’s stomach as a heat pooled inside to contrast it so much that he squirmed and glanced down. “Oh God–,” he mumbled softly trying to get control of his tongue to speak raggedly into the phone. “Yeah. I think that’s fair–,” Blaine had to cough or choke so he picked the first one just to clear his voice. Trying to ground himself–this was for Sebastian not him–was a huge failure. Suddenly, he wanted it to be about him, too. He knew his resolve was broken and blamed it on not being prepared. Sebastian always required a certain amount of carefulness when he dealt with him. This phone call gave him no time to plant his feet firmly in the ground he knew he’d have his footing on tested repeatedly by the boy on the other end of the line because that’s just how he worked. How they worked.
The bulge in his underwear begged for relief but he was supposed to be keeping control of himself. Not hesitating his touch just shy of the curve along his hip that his whole body pulled his attention towards–physically–. Sebastian had all the rest and wasn’t going to lose it any time soon. His hand wasn’t supposed to be where it was in the first place. It was. He kept quiet about it but he wanted it there and wanted it to move underneath the elastic hem of his pants and boxers. A notion that happened as he thought it and imagined what Sebastian looked and what he was doing to himself knowing that he was the reason for Sebastian being such a mess of want. What he found when he dipped it inside them and curled his fingers instinctively around was proof that he didn’t want to stop. He knew he should stop. He was awful for not stopping. But he only squeezed tighter and breathed heavier, wetter with an open mouth and lungs desperate for air. Sebastian stole his breath many more times than just this once for many different reasons. Some that had him in this position–laid back in his sheets, grinding against his palm and panting a name through them, “Sebastian,” the sound that accompanied it was a pitch reserved for the private audience of one–himself–and never once did someone else hear that desperation in his voice. Blaine was beet red down to his neck, chewing on his lips furiously but stopped just to whisper. “I have no idea what I’m doing here–but I don’t want to stop,” he rushed out the words in a hush before he could think them over and lose the nerve.
‘Don’t get you.’ Sebastian mumbled, at Blaine’s joke, too drunk to understand, though he wasn’t drunk enough not to appreciate Blaine’s strong arms working to keep him up straight. At the other’s remark, Sebastian rose eyebrows then screwed them together. Then he laughed. All but a giggle. ‘Think you’re drunker than me killer.’ He snickered. For some reason, the prospect of Blaine being drunker than him was highly amusing. He breathed in, as they got to the cold air outside, and gave Blaine a rather unimpressed look. ‘I still know that, Blainers. Certainly. Not your dick.’ He remarked at the other’s unnecessary announcement, about that being his neck. The next question made Sebastian stop cold on his tracks, almost bringing them both down as he did. ‘Whoah.’ He chuckled, before regaining his scowl. ‘How can you NOT know ‘bout Rage, Blainers. Are you NOT──── a man, gay man man gay.’ Frown. Before pointing at him, ‘Of SUBSTANCE??’ He stopped him, placing both unsteady hands on his shoulders. ‘Rage. Killer. Rage. Gay
─── Best hero. Rage.’ He purses his lips lightly frustrated, before remembering something. ‘Brian. Brian Kinney’s Rage. You should be flatter’d.’
Blaine couldn’t help but laugh at the face Sebastian pulled when he tried to lay blame on HIM being the most drunk. The way he exaggerated his trademark look of ‘wow, I’m staring at an idiot’ eyebrow lift? Blaine wished he took a picture to prove how ridiculously cute he could be when he was too wasted to care. –No he did not just think of or use that word in relation to Sebastian.– He did. It was easy to dismiss when it was followed up by THAT. “Right. Right. Definitely not. Oop! They were stopping! Blaine’s eyes flew open and his, “Woah!”, echoed Seb’s. Blaine’s only more caught off guard. His grin disappeared with a skid to catch his footing so they both wouldn’t fall. Close but so far, neither ended up on the ground. Oh no. Here came the ‘serious drunk talk’ and Blaine couldn’t wait to see what was going to come next. That comparison was the last thing he’d expect. He stuttered out a quick, “Hang on. Comic books? When were you into comic books,” after a Cooper-esque jab of a finger in his direction. “Okayyy then. Uhm–,” Blaine pressed his lips tight and hung his head in feigned shame. Even heavily sighed at himself to top it off. “How did I not follow you. Thanks though. I am flattered. Brian Kinney’s. Really?” He grinned when their eyes met before he stepped out of Seb’s grip to wrap one arm around his waist. The other patted his chest through his nod at the cab. Fair warning they were about to start moving. “Alright, Seb. Time to go before you pass out on me. Because carrying you up a bunch of stone steps isn’t something I wanna do tonight.”
Barry resisted the urge to either push him away roughly, or to flinch from the strangers touch. Not because he had anything against someone who wasn’t straight, hell he wasn’t straight anyway. It was because he could see how much who ever this Sebastian was matter to the guy. There’s laughter, a smile, and adoration, and teasing in those eyes.
No one’s actually looked at Barry like that, not this way, and it made his heart clenched. But in the bitter sense; this look wasn’t for him. Of course. It was belonged to who he had gotten mistaken for. Sighing, just his luck, seriously. He leaves one city to take a break, and he ends up with something else. Ah well– he supposed that just makes life interesting.
At the mention of lunch, his stomach growls, and he finds himself blushing. Yes stomach, perfect time to make yourself known. Although Barry was aware how hungry he was– hence him being there after all. Eyes briefly looking at the bags, and wondered just how much was in there. For real. It did cause him to chuckle slightly. It’s cute. This Sebastian guy was lucky. “Lunch sounds good, but we should really clear this up.”
He fidgeted a little, feeling awkward– well, there’ll be two of them feeling awkward very soon he’d imagine. Reaching for his wallet, he showed the other his ID. “I’m not ‘Seb’, my name’s Barry Allen, well, technically it’s Bartholomew, but I go by Barry instead,” he said. Licking his lips, with an apologetic, if not a bit, sheepish smile on his lips. “Um— sorry?”
Blaine’s gentle lead towards the counter slowed to a stop as he noticed the awkwardness on Barry’s face. Was there something wrong? A fog of confusion clouded his vision, dimming some of the spark in his eyes and filling his face with a bewildered, careful expression. He replayed the past twenty four hours in his head trying to pinpoint where anything he did might’ve upset his boyfriend and came up empty handed.
He was on the verge of asking if there was a problem when Barry fished out his wallet. Hazel eyes squinted and he stared at it as he introduced himself as Bartholomew-preferred-to-be-known-as-Barry right in time with Blaine reading his name. “Wait what? N-No way. That’s not–,” he covered Barry’s hand with his palm holding the ID eye level as he leaned in and read it closer like the lack of distance was needed for him to let the name printed sink into his brain.
Without lifting his head, he flicked a glance up at Barry. His mouth dropped open, shut, repeated a few times with a splash of raised eyebrows and a handful of choked tries that might’ve been words if he was able to say anything intelligent. “Barry–.” Another close look and he could see differences. Barry looked a bit older around the eyes. Sebastian would never wear those clothes. Barry was looking at him with an expression he rarely saw from Seb.
SEBASTIAN! Here comes awkward! “Oh I–I’m so sorry for–,” being a brain surgeon wasn’t necessary to figure out he entered apology mode for making with the kissing. “I thought–Wow! I’m sooo sorry,” he squeezed the back of his neck. “I thought you were–you two just–I don’t know how that’s possible–Are you sure you don’t have a brother? Our mouths,” he gestured with a lift of his fingers from his lips towards Barry’s, “That was a huge mistake. I can explain?”
She gave a small giggle at Blaine’s comment while she took a seat at the lunch table. ‘Thanks.” She added and began to nibble at her food while she listened to his answer to her questions. Her own mind wandering off slightly trying to pin ideas together on the circumstances of the week and how Mr. Schuester would base an idea off of them.
Blaine’s comment on the love triangles. She had an idea in her head of who he was talking about, until he mentioned that there were more than one of them. “God no!” She laughed. “I mean, not that it would never happen to me, because I’m sure it’s possible, but not yet. I mean, I haven’t got my eye on anyone, yet. I’m just happy being single for the moment since I’ve got my whole life ahead of me.” She rambled. “Plus, it leads to dramatic moments like this that require singing to fix them apparently.”
“So are we thinking like a love topic or breakups? I don’t know why but for some reason love triangles makes me think Taylor Swift? And I like never listen to her stuff anymore.”
Blaine decided now that he had company that it’d be a great idea to pick up his fork and knife and actually start getting through whatever he mindlessly grabbed to eat. It wasn’t the lunch’s fault. How could something so processed and gross add up to picnic baskets of carefully plotted out full course meals made by him or Kurt? This stuff on his tray was just rubbish in comparison. Maybe it was about time to start packing those lunches again? Even if they made him feel homesick for someone who wasn’t here, it was better than being actually physically sick from food that sat out way past it’s prime.
Kelsey’s question made what he was doing dawn on him when he heard her voice. He’d been sitting there, tuned out and debating menu choices two seconds into the topic of love the glee club came up. Sure as the cat’s meow snapped right back to Earth at the mention of love triangles or break-ups though. Blaine blinked and jabbed his fork into some spinach. “Break-ups? Nahhh,” he waved his free hand in the air near his cheek and burrowed his brows together like the idea was totally just--’nooo don’t be silly’–.
Break-ups? Why break-ups? Who was breaking-up in her opinion? God, maybe he should have stayed home. “I don’t think we’ve hit the Defcon Four that requires break-up songs yet. It’s going to be a Taylor Swift sort of week. One can hope! Anything but the 80′s hair bands we were singing last week. Not that there’s anything wrong with them. I could just use a break.”
As the two stood in silence, it was as if time seemed to slow. Kurt was sure that the expression on his face was one big farrago of devastation and uncertainty, the exact look that had been reserved for Blaine since they had broken up. Eyes flashing over Blaine’s entire frame, Kurt immediately could feel the way that everything about his stance absolutely screamed of uneasiness. To think, this was the man that Kurt loved more than anything; the man that he had considered to not just be his best friend, but his soulmate. And now, they couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as one another. That thought alone utterly killed Kurt. As he swallowed heavily, Kurt tried to pick a coherent thought out from the mess of ‘why did I have to come to McKinley, it’s not as if this was my last time in Lima’ and ‘I’m sure blinking stupidly at your ex-boyfriend is a very adult way of handling this situation’. However, the loudest thought of all was a begging plea to the universe for some kind of distraction to interrupt this pathetic attempt at confrontation. Mr. Schue returning to the classroom with a new armful of Journey lyric sheets, his dad calling to alarmingly inform him that he lit a recipe book on fire with the burner whilst attempting to cook Carole dinner (again), Rachel texting in all caps that she was locked out of their apartment and Kurt needed to return to New York that instant to assist her. Anything would do.
Alas, the mystical teapot dwelling dwarf in the sky did nothing to aid Kurt in his predicament. It looked like he was on his own to sort things out. The sound of Blaine’s keys hitting the floor managed to snap Kurt out of his frozen trance. Trying to repress the complete ‘deer in the headlights’ look he had going on, Kurt tore his eyes away from Blaine and to the sheet music that the other man was staring at. “No,” He said suddenly, shaking his head, “I’m not about to run you out of your own school.” Kurt reached behind him for the papers, not daring to turn his back on Blaine. He had the strange feeling that the second he completely took his eyes off of him, Blaine would make a mad dash out the door. Kurt took two careful steps forward, only becoming aware of how incredibly loud his shoes were just then. Holding the music out for Blaine to take, Kurt found himself praying that he would just look at him. As difficult as this was, he still couldn’t bear the pain of such avoidance. Still, part of him considered walking out right then and there. The only thing keeping him grounded was the idea that awkward emotional skirmishes like this one would always be present between them. They would have to see each other, it was inevitable. Oh the pain of being in the same exact friend group as your ex. Kurt took in a long deep breath and decided that he was finally going to take the initiative, “How have you been?”
The longer he stood still underneath the crushing weight of Kurt’s stare, he began feel it down to his b o n e s heightening the need to get out. Every suffocating second made each limb start to match his heart in the ache department. With nothing to do to let all of that tension out, Blaine compromised by reaching an unsteady hand up and scratching the line of his jaw hard enough that a few reddened welts marked his skin after. –Running.– Running would put his bones at ease but he couldn’t free himself from the imaginary concrete his shoes were metaphorically plastered inside of. His the music sheets ceased to be the most important thing on the planet. Kurt was.I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You’re here. Stay long enough for me to prove it to you. I might not be able to but let me try. Blaine didn’t need their eyes to meet for Kurt to be the only thing that existed in his world. Wasn’t that always the case? No. He couldn’t think that way. His eyes were already burning and his vision blurred. It was only going to get worse if he kept it up. Shutting it down was harder than a whim would allow. Kurt was spot on for the reason he refused to turn his back to Blaine. If he had? He would have turned around to an empty room. Blaine couldn’t bring himself to walk out with Kurt watching him leave. So? He stayed. Gravity binding him to that exact spot. He heard his steps coming forward with a drummer’s tempo that quickened his pulse. “I know you wouldn’t,” his voice was a gravelly scratch mumble he couldn’t cough clear. –Again–, Kurt was the first one to close more space handing over the music before Blaine dared to reach out. He made sure not to touch him whatsoever when he gingerly took it and held it close.
“T-Thanks,” his gaze connected with Kurt’s eyebrows and cheeks. Anywhere but making direct eye contact. Necessary but agonizing. Those were eyes he thought he’d be stare into forever and see nothing but love shining. Seeing the pain, betrayal, disappointment and anger in them last time knowing he was responsible? Blaine would admit he was a coward by avoiding it and deserved to feel the soul shattering hurt by having it greet him in person rather than seeing it burned into his thoughts and nightmares but he’d been a hypocrite to Kurt in the worse way possible. Courage wasn’t something he had. Not for this. “I should–,” he gestured over his shoulder with a jutted out thumb. A question abruptly halted that notion. How greedy should he be with his reply? –Horrible. I can’t sleep. I’m thinking about leaving McKinley because I can’t stand seeing your ghost everywhere. I need you to forgive me. Hate me but say you forgive me.– “Fine. I’m fine. You know–,” he tried to say it lightly as possible, “I’m just– Good. I’m good.” God. Nothing says ‘layering on crap’ like jumbled words that makes absolutely no sense. Blaine took a couple backwards steps closer to the door to give them a ‘respectful distance’. –He’s waiting for you to talk.– Desperate not to have how awful his answer was pointed out, Blaine met Kurt’s eyes at last. Kurt would see through everything if he kept staring elsewhere. He’d see through it if he didn’t, too. Either way he was stuck and he deserved more than him staring at their reflections in the polish. A deep breath tried to make up for the connection stealing all of his oxygen. “How about you? What have you been up to in Lima?”
This was a trainwreck. One he was stuck in because it was too much of a twisted tangle to crawl out of.
SEND ME A ♬ AND A NUMBER BETWEEN 1-10 AND I’LL PUT MY ITUNES ON SHUFFLE AND SKIP TO THAT NUMBER AND WRITE A STARTER WITH MY FAVORITE LYRIC FROM THAT SONG. song:chandelier by sia @seafoamxashes
Cries from the audience behind the curtain were so loud that the heavy fabric barely managed to muffle them. The pale faces of several crowded together show choir groups stared at the last ensemble of performers as they ran off the stage with their ‘we have this in the bag’ smirks. One group stood apart from that. In their dark gray pants and blue blazers with crimson piping, the Warblers looked from one to another and each of them had a knowing grin of confidence. Laughter followed when Blaine rolled his eyes and made a goofily puckered pout at their backs then huffed them off with a dismissive wave and a, “They have nothing on us.” Except for Trent kept nervously wringing his fingers. Noticing how bad he was fidgeting, Blaine laced one set of his and the other boy’s together and pulled him in closely to his side.
As the kids before them prepared to go on, he heard a girl whisper how she didn’t get that they could look so calm after seeing THAT. Blaine frowned and pulled Trent along on his approach. Bending in as the announcer called out the name of the stranger’s team, he cupped his hand and whispered into her ear. “That’s because every time I go out there I tell myself I’m gonna live like tomorrow doesn’t exist. You should too. Have fun with it,” a brilliant smiling pause between, “Good luck!”
want a random starter? 📺 for me to use a line from the last TV show I watched as a starter “Bad choices. Make bad choices with me.” -Bates Motel @samevvns
In hindsight this epic break-in test run might’ve been a lot easier without the costumes. “Bad choices. Make bad choices with me.” Was all he had to say and Sam was 110% in for Blaine’s Master Plan of breaking into Dalton. Twice. They had to make a point. New Directions–and for Blaine he–would not be swayed by guerilla tactics unless THEY were the ones committing said guerilla tactics. A point that would soon be made after narrowing down the perfect route to take to and from the Warbler Common Room to the waiting car–still running–and to McKinley where they would be off scot-free with their beloved prize and dignity back.
Waiting til the weekend when most of the boys would be out or home? Common sense. Going in through the balcony adjacent to the spot marked X on Blaine’s map? Also common sense. Doing this for the first time in a suit that weighed him down and restricted his movement? Common sense, too. Cause how was he supposed to do it right for real if he couldn’t pull it off the first? That’s what he told himself. Jumping for the fifth time, a flush faced NIGHTBIRD grunted as he plastered a gloved hand to the back of his neck and squinted at the BLONDE CHAMELEON. “Make them with me-uhm–,” a booted foot lifted and he pointed at the balcony overhead that his fingers fell inches short of grabbing every time he tried jumping up to reach. “Right after you–,” he winced feeling his pride take a nosedive, “BLONDE CHAMELEON?” Blaine stood taller trying to prove it wasn’t a height thing it was a costume thing–totally. “NIGHTBIRD requests leg-up.”
pianokeysandbowties 