( mssg » blaine | sent ) okay whoa hwoa whao whao whao hold on ( mssg » blaine | sent ) like is this a random sickness ( mssg » blaine | sent ) or is it a like, you had shellfish kinda sickness? every single time dad orders it he gets sick altho i really dont know what the difference between shellfish and shrimp and stuff is ( mssg » blaine | sent ) or is this a “i think i got possessed from that ouija board” kinda projectile vomiting? i really hope not because i so dont wanna tell my priest that we’ve been screwin around in the dark ( mssg » blaine | sent ) ok whao like not with each other but with the whole ghost thing ( mssg » blaine | sent ) wait blaine you dont really think this is a posession do you? ( mssg » blaine | sent ) god im on my way over are u okay? can i grab u anything? (minus a priest pls tell me this isnt a ouija thing im seriously crossing my fingers) ( mssg » blaine | sent ) really hope this isnt like they made it out to be in this is the end
( mssg » sam | sent ) oh my god sam its’nto possession. ( mssg » sam | sent )
I don’t htink that reallya happens like it does int he movies. ( mssg » sam | sent ) I hope it doesnt’. … ( mssg » sam | sent )
I think it is the drink i had with SEbastian. Or the dinner afrer. Or both. Coudl be that bug going around. but i I want to never move again.
( mssg » sam | sent ) ..tell your priest what????? ( mssg » sam | sent ) oh oh yerah right. ( mssg » sam | sent ) Sammy? ( mssg » sam | sent )
Would it be horrible to ask you to bring me crackers and gatorade? ( mssg » sam | sent ) You could leave them at the door eand I can come and get them. won’t get you sick I promsie.
“…Blaine. What are you doing here?” Sebastian froze. He had just been coming back home, take out bags in hands, and he stopped dead on the hallway as he saw Blaine standing there, in front of his doorstep, with what looked like — was that a BOUQUET OF ROSES? And looking like he didn’t know if he should knock or not. Sebastian sighed, something heavy in his chest. Ever since his accident, when he had seen Blaine again, it had been hard getting him out of his head, but he’d tried. He’d ignored Blaine’s call, until the last one, when Sebastian had picked up, and told him — ”I told you. I told you last time, and I meant it Blaine. I told you to either finally PICK” me, finally pick me, “or leave me alone. I meant it.” He repeated, shoulders bunched tight, and eyes braced for rejection. “You can’t be here for that so….” Only Blaine was smiling, why was he smiling?! Sebastian stood there, mouth agape, and for the longest time, he just let his eyes stare into Blaine’s ones. And then a shiver came over him. “You…” His voice was suddenly rough, dried out like his throat with emotion coiling in it like a spike. “You did it?” It was soft, scared still, as though Sebastian was dreading to have any amount of HOPE. “…. You picked me?”
Catch your breath. Don’t pass out. The last thing you need is for him to open the door for work in the morning and you laying there in a pile of wilting roses passed out. “Breathe. I can do this. If I just breathe.” Blaine parted his lips and exhaled slowly, his breath hot across wettened lips that he couldn’t stop chewing on as he stared down at his hand loosely curled into a fist ready to knock but frozen in fear right next to the woodgrain. The roses were held in a careful, tight fist and their smell–however gorgeous in the shop it’d been–was overwhelming him to the point of nausea. He’d made his choice. Felt his heart picking up into a thundering beat against the walls of his chest that drummed louder, louder, LOUDER the closer his steps brought him to where he stood. Unanswered calls. Unanswered texts. And yet.. Blaine made his choice and it was to be standing here ready to lay his heart on his sleeve and beg for a simple yes. Yes, Sebastian still wanted him. Yes, he’d made the right decision coming here. Yes. They could finally begin.
His blood turned to ice when the chance was taken away from him. But then his heart took over and he turned staring up into a disbelieving pair of eyes while the roses touched his cheek velvet soft and grounding. The words stung because they were agony when he heard them the first time but he was still smiling. Looking into Sebastian’s eyes, all he could do was bow his head in a slow nod. “I..,” he had to cough to clear his voice, “I picked you. I want you. Please? If you’ll have me. If I haven’t ruined us. Or waited too long? I want to be here..with you.” All he could do was wait. Biting his lip–he curled his toes towards the soles of his shoes and waited.
Sam’s lips were warm and soft. The kiss was a gentle plea that begged Blaine to stay.
How fall could look so beautifully different from one state to another, especially when those states weren’t very big, was something that if Blaine had come here with Sam six months ago? Would have captivated the former Warbler and had him falling in love with his favorite season all over again. The smell of leaves, crisp air and campfire smoke should’ve lured anyone who remotely enjoyed autumn (and Blaine was far past that level of adoration) into sheer bliss ferried there on the wings of a symphony of crickets or on the backs of bouncing bullfrogs ribbiting their way to points unknown. Sparks danced up inside the heatwaves of their campfire, twisting like blazing fireflies towards the starry blanket of blue black above their heads. Blaine Six Months Ago would have been in heaven. God. Blaine Six Weeks Ago would have, too.
Blaine Tonight? Well, he wasn’t sure when nudging one of the logs with their iron poker and sending cinders spiraling up, higher and higher had gone from appreciating the warmth that flooded over his face to..this. Somewhere between calling up to Sam with a ‘Yeah! Wow! How many is that again–?’ and watching something burning into nothing but ashes (just like Erased People, like him)–everything began to slip away. The world went dark and all he felt was that God awful clawing at his throat. By now, whatever caused that feeling, should have a face to warn him when it was coming. Because it hurt and it was drowning or suffocating or both depending and always tasted like copper and gross blended together.
“Sam..,” but his voice was disconnected and he wasn’t sure if it made a sound at all.
Then the fire was shadowed by a towering figure that soon dropped down onto his knees and cupped his cheeks, had Blaine wondering how someone could have such big hands and deciding he was infinitely grateful that Sam did because they pulled him back to the planet, back to reality, back to Sam so many times they needed to be big because anything smaller wouldn’t be able to catch him this many times without letting him go already. He didn’t realize he was crying until Sam was using his thumbs to dry his face. Blaine tuned in then. Completely and wholly staring into Sam’s eyes trying to read them deep enough to find words the blond might need to hear so he would be comforted and know he was making a difference even if it didn’t seem that way.
Okay. It was going to be okay. Sam was making his promises again and Blaine never had the heart to tell him differently. So? Instead of talking, he wrapped his fingers around Sam’s wrists and gave him a reassuring squeeze. It was easier to lie with a touch. Made it, somehow, less of a verbal contract like the one Sam made him promise the first night. One that if he betrayed, wouldn’t be on Sam’s life as his best friend dramatically put it.
Sam’s lips were warm and soft. The kiss was a gentle plea that begged Blaine to stay. To trust him and to know that he was loved. Blaine had watched him draw in near, felt his heart and time come to a standstill when he realized what was coming. The initial shock drew in a sharp gasp through his nose and his grip only tightened, holding Sam’s palms against his cheeks. His red brimmed eyes went round before slamming shut and there was a moment where Blaine froze as his mind rushed to catch up with what was going on. Something stirred in him, the need for Sam to believe him. The desperation that someone would keep him finally broke free with the promise that Sam would was soon pressed against his mouth in return. His gravity went upside down and his heart must’ve leapt to his throat this was real and solid and..
Sam’s lips were warm and soft. The kiss was a a tender plea that begged Sam to believe that he would.
“Oh? Were you?” He teased, pulling his husband closer and ducking his head to press a kiss to his lips, “I couldn’t tell. You hold your alcohol really well.” He added, his face serious but only for a split second before he grinned again and gave Blaine’s hip a squeeze. “And what, pray tell, were you drinking to last night without me?” He pouted, still playful in tone and intent, “I go out of town for one night and party all night without me, huh? Is that how it is, Mr. Anderson-Clarington?”
“I was. Very much.” Blaine hummed as Hunter pulled him close enough that he could wrap his arms around his husband’s shoulders. Hunter ducked his head and in anticipation for the kiss that he saw written all over Hunter’s face coming at him? His heels lifted and he met him halfway. Expression serious or not? They both knew him holding his liquor in any shape well as a lie. The sound of almost laughter quipped into a hard swallow thanks to the squeeze. A deep breath through his nose later, he mused right back. “After performance dinner. I guess we were drinking to a good show? If you weren’t forced to leave because of work,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes playfully, “You would’ve been there.” Squinting, he inched close and pressed a chaste, quick kiss to Hunter’s mouth. A tease and nothing more. “All your fault you missed it.”
( mssg » blaine | sent) Don’t think I’m getting out of this one alive, killer. ( mssg » blaine | sent) Just do me a favor and don’t believe what they tell you. ( mssg » blaine | sent) We had something real special, B. ( mssg » blaine | sent) Not sure what happens next, but if I can, i’ll find you. ( mssg » blaine | sent) Just remember I did it all for you. ( mssg » blaine | sent) Everyone needed to know your name. ( mssg » blaine | sent) It was worth it and i’d do it all again. Remember that okay? ( mssg » blaine | sent) Don’t let them talk you into blaming yourself. You’re gonna be the last thing on my mind. ( mssg » blaine | sent) Thanks for the wild ride, Blaine.
( mssg » sebastian | sent) Sebastian? ( mssg » sebastian | sent)
What do you mean you’re not getting out of this alive? ( mssg » sebastian | sent) Don’t believe who? What are you saying?
( mssg » sebastian | sent) We did? No. We do. There’s a huge difference. ( mssg » sebastian | sent) The “last thing”? Blaming myself? What is going on?
( mssg » sebastian | sent) Tell me where you are and let me come find you. ( mssg » sebastian | sent) I’m not blaming myself for anything because there’s going to be nothing to blame myself for. Whatever’s happening. Let me help. ( mssg » sebastian | sent) Please?
“how is it you seem to be the absolute sweetest boy I have ever met?” Hermione asked, incredulity and admiration shining bright in both her elated tone, and the way her eyes filled with absolute wonder every time she found his. And it was true that after years of Harry and Ron —who she both adored with every fiber of her being, they left a little to be desired. especially in the way they treated her sometimes without having realized it. Blaine however, was putting everyone she’d ever met to shame. And sure, it was nice to have other friends throughout the castle, but right now, she was legitimately having the best time.
When she’d put out posters looking for new S.P.E.W members, the sign ups went ignored for the most part. but when she’d sought out volunteers to give back and host a ‘HOUSE ELF APPRECIATION DAY’… Two names had been added. Luna Lovegood and Blaine Anderson. So there they were, half past eight, alone (for once) in the kitchens, baking up batches of treats to dole out. “honestly Blaine, you MUST enlighten the boys for me. Sometimes they make me crazy, they’re completely daft when it comes to this sort of thing.” Their conversation had already spanned a million of often untouched topics that Hermione rarely got to indulge upon. “Ginny had told me that was all boys, and well, she grew up with brothers! All of them, whereas me? Well, I’ve just had dad, really.” Who was without a doubt wonderful. “And I hadn’t anyone prove me wrong, though Professor Dumbledore truly did seem wonderful, I just don’t know him on that sort of level, you know? And obviously I’m not ignorant, but I had been losing hope.”
“But you’re such a breath of fresh air.” And Hermione was very quickly flying too close to the sun as she gushed, the sleeves of her button up rolled up as she created a well out of the flour in front of her on the wooden table, the beginnings of dough when she reached for the eggs. Hermione’s eyes shot up as a clatter of metal on stone came from behind them, causing her to snap around. “Oh, Luna! Are you all right?”
Hermione was quickly becoming one of the people inside the castle he adored so much that simply encountering her caused him to immediately light up so bright his smile could put the sun to shame. Seeing her lovingly crafted S.P.E.W. posters for a day she invented out of the kindness of her heart? That was the sort of thing that Blaine Anderson would never, in a million years, be able to resist signing up for. Giving some sort of comfort and respect to the poor creatures that so many families took for granted, regardless if they had feelings, emotions and needs like the very wizards they ‘served’, was the best way to spend a night. No matter if he had plans or not. Which..he didn’t.
Hunched over the dough he was delicately sealing the edges together of on each painstakingly filled chocolate with mint creme stuffing cookie, the tip of his tongue jutted out between his lips in his concentration. His smile continued to grow as he listened to her rant about the boys in her life thankful that she put a disclaimer at the beginning by saying he needed to teach them a lesson. Something he was grateful for, yet mystified by at the same time. (What set him apart from her best friends? Why wasn’t he as hopeless as the rest of the lot she was clumping together?) Well. For one, he was the only boy in this school that showed up to spend hours getting finger cramps to ensure their treats were perfect. That might be a good start on figuring out why he was now tasked with doling out life lessons on not being so..boyishly boys.
“I’ll try but I hope you realize the enormity of the task you are asking me to accomplish. I’ve seen how clueless some of your closest friends can be. And you’re hoping I can enlighten the whole lot of them? Even if it’s just kitchen tips and tricks? It’s going to be enough work trying to make sure no one burns the castle to the ground.” He playfully countered her argument and peeked up over the lip of the large metal bowl directly in front of the floured surface he was working on. His nose scrunched at the thought of how messy things could potentially get. “I’m glad I could help you hold–?!” Blaine nearly jumped out of his skin at the loud noises crashing down behind them. The cookie he was working on hit the table with a plunk of dough as he pivoted around blinking owlishly at the girl. “Yeah, are you okay? What happened??”
( mssg » blaine | sent ) okay whoa hwoa whao whao whao hold on ( mssg » blaine | sent ) like is this a random sickness ( mssg » blaine | sent ) or is it a like, you had shellfish kinda sickness? every single time dad orders it he gets sick altho i really dont know what the difference between shellfish and shrimp and stuff is ( mssg » blaine | sent ) or is this a “i think i got possessed from that ouija board” kinda projectile vomiting? i really hope not because i so dont wanna tell my priest that we’ve been screwin around in the dark ( mssg » blaine | sent ) ok whao like not with each other but with the whole ghost thing ( mssg » blaine | sent ) wait blaine you dont really think this is a posession do you? ( mssg » blaine | sent ) god im on my way over are u okay? can i grab u anything? (minus a priest pls tell me this isnt a ouija thing im seriously crossing my fingers) ( mssg » blaine | sent ) really hope this isnt like they made it out to be in this is the end
( mssg » sam | sent ) SAm? ( mssg » sam | sent ) Sam.. ( mssg » sam | sent ) Sammy? ( mssg » sam | sent ) slooow down. I don’t think it has anyrhintg to do with shellfish or demons. ( mssg » sam | sent )
Never thought I would say those two things in the same sentence togetheR but here we are. I just did ( mssg » sam | sent ) I think its’ the amoutn of liquor I drank. Oh and how cheap itwas. Top shelf
( mssg » sam | sent ) I promise I’m not possessed. Even if it realy llooks like it right now.
( mssg » sam | sent ) Would it be too much to aks you to come get me? ( mssg » sam | sent ) No Linda blaeir head turns or talking abckwards will happen between here and my hourse.I swear on my life
tate.
“And, uh —” Tate’s train of thought seemed to derail when the weight of Blaine’s head rested against him. One quick glance to the side at the simple gesture was enough to make him have to try and subdue the smile on his face ; He did like Blaine. And it’d been so long since anyone had touched him in any sort of way. “Uh — Where was I? Oh yeah. Buffalo Bill, is based of Ed Gein cause like, there’s been suspicions that Ed was making a woman-suit but really never any hard evidence.” A few seconds later with his eyes trained on their movie, the blond’s cheek was pressed against the top of that curly mess. He didn’t really care what Blaine said, he sort of digged it without all that gel.
Being with Tate was comfortable. Like they’d always known each other. The boy was the one constant that wasn’t complicated or overwhelming. Tate was always there. Ready to hang out, listen, or simply be in awe over his cellphone and play games on it for hours while Blaine played the piano or music and stretched out on his floor staring at the ceiling as they talked about everything and nothing. Tonight, they’d chosen a movie marathon starting with Silence of the Lambs. An entire evening spent with Anthony Hopkins in movies he’s always been curious about but never seen or knew much of and good company? Blaine couldn’t complain. It felt easy to let his head fall to rest on Tate’s shoulder as he drew a heavy duvet up over their laps. Blaine’s nose crinkled and his gaze flicked from the screen to Tate. “Seriously? I never heard that. Only that he made lampshades out of people. What do you think?”
( mssg » blaine | deleted) Hey, Killer. Long time no see. Saw you checked in on Facebo what the fuck ( mssg » blaine | deleted) Hey, Killer. Long time no see. Little birdy told me you were in the area, what’re you doing on the West Coast? Concrete jungle bore you already, or did Kurt finally drive you aw ( mssg » blaine | deleted) Hey, Killer. Long time no see. Saw your insta last night, West Coast suits you. You should stay awhile. You were five minutes away from my place. You still in town? ( mssg » blaine | deleted) Hey, B. You still in town? ( mssg » blaine | deleted) You didn’t have to come to Los Angeles to see that billboard, Anderson. My agent told me it’d be going live in TS next month for the new CK campaign. Pictures really don’t do me justice, you should just come see in person. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) You’re better than Tourist Los Angeles, Killer. Saw your Insta this morning. If you’re still in town, I’m going to be insulted if you don’t actually let me show you around. And if on the off chance that doesn’t hook you, I know the best karaoke bar and dim sum joint in this entire state, don’t let me down.🎙 ( mssg » blaine | sent ) If you say no, know that I’m just going to assume you’ve gotten a little flat over the years and don’t want to ruin your rep.
( mssg » sebastian | sent ) Oh wow. Hey! You saw that post? Yeah, I’m still in town. I’ll be here for another two weeks. Part business, part pleasure. ( mssg » sebastian | sent ) Sorry. Wow. I can’t believe you messaged me.
( mssg » sebastian | sent ) It might’ve been a while since we last spoke or saw one another. But! You know what will never change? My love for both of those things. It’d be horrible shame to miss the best of either one “in the entire state” according to Sebastian Smythe’s standards. ( mssg » sebastian | sent ) Flat? Never. Or. I don’t think so? You can be the judge of that in person, I guess? When are you free?
Blaine had no idea who the blond boy was that yelled his name and nearly brought the performance to a halt before the stunned lead regained his composure and centered himself. Every time Sam met his eyes while he sang, it was with a familiarity that Blaine didn’t quite get. More than once, it made the Warbler blush. Olive skin dusted pink from self consciousness once Sam broke eye contact. And he always broke it first. Blaine’s color easily chalked up to how many times he’d managed to walk across the back of a couch only to end up standing on top of the piano. Seriously, his parents would kill him if they knew how bouncy he was.
Did the boy have any idea he even noticed him? Or did he dismiss it as Blaine simply acknowledging the other’s presence? But Blaine did notice. He might not have approached screamed his name like Sam did, but he noticed. That was Sam’s point wasn’t it? To get his attention? Blaine had never seen him before but Sam must have seen or heard of him to know his name. It was as flattering as it was confusing and Blaine couldn’t help but want to know more. Yes, he had people who loved his performances. Never one so in love that they made an outburst in the middle of one though. That was new.
A strange feeling came over him in the hours afterwards. It was the same feeling he got when he was at therapy. Or when Cooper showed him dozens of pictures of the two of them. Always looking half cut off or parts of them out of frame. Like what happens when someone rushes back before the timer goes off. But they looked happy. Cooper looked happier, though. Probably because he was only visiting. Blaine had trouble explaining to him that he wished he wouldn’t go. Because, in Blaine’s world, he’d made that argument only a handful of years ago. As promised, he came back four times now. The routine was nice. His brother lead him through every step the doctors said and Blaine swore he felt something come to mind but always lost it at the last second before he could grab onto it.
Exactly how he felt when he saw Sam without Sam realizing he’d made it to where he said they could meet. Sam was four people ahead of him in line at the cafe. He was on the phone and Blaine couldn’t hear what he was saying but it was how he was saying it that made Blaine’s head tilt. Sam looked soft, patient. Encouraging whoever was on the other end of the phone with soft tones and a gentle smile. Blaine knew that look but knew it was impossible. Because Sam was the new kid. The new new kid. So he found out in the rushed introduction after the signing came to a stop and poor Sam looked like he wanted to crawl in a hole somewhere as he approached him. It was his first day and he was picking up the torch Blaine left behind when he transferred earlier in the year.
Gotta love the way his brain works. Memories were thoughts sometimes. Thoughts were memories (maybe). Or was he making stuff up as he went along to fill in the blanks because the blanks were unnerving?
‘Well… Maybe we can’t fix it. But maybe we could try again?’
Hands shook underneath the table as he wrung them together harder and harder the longer he listened. His parents kept him under lock and key after the incident. He hadn’t met anyone who knew him before. No one came to visit. No one bothered to try to see him. Or so he was lead to believe. An option he hasn’t considered until now. Did his parents hide Sam? If so? Why? The question was on the tip of his tongue and he leaned in to ask it. But everything stopped when a weather worn strip of photographs came sliding carefully across the table. “We look so happy. How is that stupid? It’s not stupid.” Pain laced around the words of encouragement. How could he hurt for memories that were lost? Well. One look at Sam and you had the answer. Sam looked lost. Broken because of him. Because of what was lost and what was inside that picture was part of it. There was happiness there. Pure happiness and the two of them were brimming over with it.
Blaine brought one hand up while the other grabbed at the inside of his knee. Pink crescent shapes created by his fingernails lined the top and side. But, he reached out and touched the very edge of the photographs. His silent, reassuring smile and careful meeting of Sam’s gaze was a promise he’d never do anything to harm them. Pulling it across the table before placing his hand back underneath where it snatched the other up in a blink–Blaine studied their faces closely. “It looks like the best time of my life and then some. We look..,” like two people who cared so deeply for each other that Blaine understood why Sam looked so hurt even more. “You don’t have to walk away. We can try. I want to know you. I need to know you. Is that okay? A promise to try? I just..,” his nose scrunched and he tried to say it as gently as possible, “I don’t want to upset you if..if you really see how much I don’t..” Swinging his hand up, he wriggled his fingers by the side of his head and let them fall again. “You know?”
Laughter. Light and as happy as he was inside the Warblers Common Room. “Wolverine? You sure? I mean. Who gives up Wolverine?”
pianokeysandbowties 