The entire room was decked out in so much pink and red, he felt like he was stuck inside one of those ads for those love sex motels out in the Poconos. Yes, it was a Valentine’s Day but did they really have to make the entire place look like a kleenex box he decorated in fifth grade for his classmates to stuff cheap store bought cards into? Wow, his mood was sour. Blame it on his favorite holiday taking a swing back to GAP Attack status. Thank God the bartender behind the bar didn’t seem to care the slightest about how fake an i.d. looked judging by the glasses of wine he saw Santana and Quinn flashing earlier.
They inspired him to give his own try a go. Two glasses of merlot to nurse away smiling through his song on stage and he was just on the okay this is getting better side of a mood change thanks to the inspiration of the contents of his glass. And his newfound company that saddled up to the bar beside him. The crowd was starting to die out. Two by two, Blaine watched his friends disappearing towards the lobby of the hotel towards points rather obvious. Non-stop jokes and sardonic comments from Puck had him laughing at the latest and greatest. A nonchalantly spoken, ‘I’d totally fuck you,’ to his comment about how he and Puck were doomed to be the only ones gettingunlucky tonight and how unfair it truly was.
The chuckle died out on his tongue when he noticed that Puck was watching him, his eyes still lit up with his own half-laugh until neither one of them were laughing anymore. Their eyes met (because Blaine caught himself staring not at the twinkle he admired a beat ago but the way Puck’s mouth was curved–what was going on in Puck’s mind?)–he did not expect his stomach to feel like he’d just went over the rest of the world’s tallest rollercoaster. Free-falling and light as air. Just like the tone of his voice when he heard himself say..
“I..um.. I have a room..” Loop one put his heart in his throat. Yes, he just said that..
In less than a couple of weeks, Jesse Saint James managed to become a staple in Blaine’s usually closed off and comfortably repetitive (but not so much anymore thanks to a certain someone) day-to-day. The recent resurfacing of a face from his past had come completely out of the blue and Blaine was in no way, shape, or form ready for Ohio to close in again since he’d done a pretty superb job of putting as much distance between him and what used to be home as he could. Years have gone by and he’d finally convinced himself he moved on from there and everything about it.
Enter someone he least expected? Reminding him of the future he’d told his teenage self was a pipe dream best left somewhere between Westerville and his first flight to New York City. At first? All Blaine could do was laugh, shake his head and tell him he’d keep in touch. When he walked out of the coffee shop that night? Empty promise. Keeping in touch was the last thing on his mind. Until he was awake at four o’clock in the morning and it was the only thing.
He called the number Jesse insisted on typing into his phone two days later..
Jump forward to now? Lunches before work became dinners after. Dinners became night caps. Night caps became someone to talk to at a quarter past two because he hasn’t left and you haven’t told him he needs to. When you’ve been left alone for years lying to yourself that you didn’t miss something like this, something like this becomes way too nice. So you don’t stop it three nights in a row. And they start to talk about everything.
Including dating life. Why they’re both single. How long it’s been since he’s even had someone to make out with after work cause drunk guys are sloppy and not his thing. A dry spell as dusty as the desert. That’s where he’s been. “At least we both get what that’s like. Misery loves company. Sorry for you, though. Not something I’d wish on anyone. But with the menu I’ve had? I think I’m just destined to go solo on that front forever..” He was only half joking
I’d totally fuck you.
That record scratch screech in movies? Yeah that happened in Blaine’s brain. The reflection of Jesse in the mirror behind him as he combed still damp hair back stole his attention so hard his hands were still in the air as he shot back. “Oh? You would? Sure. Prove it..” The splash of warmth in his stomach and how hard his Adam’s apple bobbed when he forced himself to swallow the realization that his tongue just betrayed him made his brain misfire even worse. Slack lips parted around words that didn’t come. Slick. Real slick. Good job.
“A Tony? There’s no way. I mean the show’s great but..I don’t know.. …You think I have a chance?”
Of course you do. Are you kidding? You’re the best there is. And it’s Sunset Boulevard. Besides. If you do—?
“Ouch! Bow tie’s too tight! Little looser, please? Thank you.. Wait. If I do…??”
I’d totally fuck you the second you hear I’m right.. I don’t care where we are, Mister Hummel-Anderson. How’s that for proof that I’m positive your name is gonna be on that list?
That night Blaine sang Joe Gillis so hard if he hadn’t sealed the deal before? His vocal cords swore to God they better have made the cut. It might have been an unnecessary amount of goading on a Tony’s behalf. Seeing as how they were never a pair to hold out on each other when it came to those antics. But why not make sure a.) he was going to win and b.) well..b would just be the icing on top of a cake he was working harder than he’s ever worked in his life to finally be able to get a taste of.
They’d been inside Blaine’s dressing room for less than ten minutes before half his clothes were pooled on the floor at his feet. To be fair? So were Kurt’s. Fast kisses and desperate-to-get-you-naked hands turned into longer, deeper strokes of tongues against one another and delicate caresses over his undershirt and up over Kurt’s cheeks. Breathless from darting off the stage and being drug past everyone before his back was pressed against the black painted door plastered with posters and flyers from his show, Blaine hummed into another round of kisses before pulling back and letting them both swallow down a few gulps of air.
Kurt’s cologne filled his nose, he could taste a small hint of it on the roof of his mouth from where his lips grazed over his pulse point, too. Sweet and spice and summer. Half a dozen walls between them and the theater made the noise from the dwindling music muffled and yet it felt like it was just outside the door. The notes permanently flowing through his veins now. Like they melted with his DNA months ago. Maybe that’s why tonight was the show. A celebratory performance for the night the word Tony Nominee was mentioned in the news with his name behind it. There was a crowd building outside, however. Well wishing fans who couldn’t wait to tell him how happy they were in person. He wouldn’t keep them waiting. Not for long, anyway.
But first..this…
Blaine found out the news right before hitting the stage. Kurt arrived ten minutes into the show and his intermission was filled with an on the spot interview that kept them from seeing one another until Kurt’s hand was on his wrist and they were here doing this. A ‘congratulations’ and ‘I love you’. About six of them exchanged and thanked for in various ways ranging from teeth over skin to a sigh of the actual words later? He couldn’t help grinning and taunting Kurt with a reminder of a promise made months ago when the rumor was fed his way that this was even a REAL possibility. “And what did you say you’d do if I got nominated again? Just to make sure we both remember,” he was grinning but his fingers were unlatching Kurt’s belt as a brow playfully jerked up making it clear that before they went out there? They were going to have their own celebration in here first. A promise is a promise.
Sebastian swallowed as Blaine brought him in, but leaned into the affection, his fingers curling tighter on the curve of Blaine’s thigh. Blaine’s blunt warmth and closeness, slowly drove away the cold of the thoughts he’d had before, and the fear that had gripped to his heart as he’d driven home in a rush and only by a miracle hadn’t ended up in a hospital himself. Sebastian Smythe was many things, but he was never irrational or rash, unless it came down to Blaine. When it was about Blaine Anderson, his rational brain turned into a knot, his light heart became heavy with more feelings than he’d care to admit to, and often his emotions took easy rule of him instead of his calculated thoughts. And so he breathed, and he let Blaine caress and hold and touch him, more affection and intimacy than he’d usually allow upfront, his methods of acceptance usually involving pretexts such as their naked bodies twined tight in bed after sex, or minds distracted by books and work in the balcony, a movie on the couch. He didn’t pull away or joke, now, just allowed it.
Each other’s. He knew. He did. He knew NOW, but it was still good to hear it. He still needed to be reminded that he was also Blaine’s family and Blaine needed him too. He stared at him, lips parted as he was held, green eyes glittering with wonderment as they always did whenever Blaine said those words, his pulse thundering. He looked back into Blaine’s eyes and his were open, as they were only for him. I’ve been yours from the moment we met. And wasn’t that the truth? He knew it, Blaine knew it, hell, the whole group of ex Warblers and whole of Dalton knew it. He nodded back, breathless, silent words traded between them as easily as they always had and then Blaine’s lips were on his, and Sebastian parted and shuddered into it. He gripped the sides of Blaine’s shirt tight and pulled him in until they were so close the counter was digging into his own thighs, but he didn’t care, a cold contrast to Blaine’s soft kiss.
He followed Blaine’s lead, as he always did, taking what was given to him, and as he kiss grew deeper, he moved his hand to grasp both under Blaine’s thighs just at the curve of his ass and Sebastian wished he could be one with him like that, drive deep, deep, and never come back. Instead, he pushed his tongue in, searching for that connection, as hard and warm as his lungs would allow. “Fuck dinner,” He growled, once he couldn’t kiss him any longer, ragged breath just over Blaine’s mouth. “Need you inside me.” He groaned as he gripped him tight, and then picked him up, carrying Blaine towards their bedroom and smashing their mouths again. His need far too great to be sated by a quickie over the kitchen counter.
Blaine knew Sebastian preferred other means of showering affection. Or, rather, having affection showered onto him. Because Blaine always had and always would enjoy little touches and pecks and kisses. Where Sebastian was more about bodies covered in a sheen of sweat, hums and limbs tangled together in the afterglow. Not that Blaine didn’t enjoy that form of affection either (oh he did very much), it was only that..in their current state? Reassuring his husband that he was here, safe and sound and still fully alive and in love was all Blaine wanted to make sure he did. More kisses to the crown of Sebastian’s head. A rare opportunity to be the taller one allowing him to dot several against the cool silken strands of hair underneath his lips. “I love you. I’m here. I’d never let anyone take me away from you like that. Ever. Not even a car.”
Oh, Sebastian was his. His, his, his. There wasn’t a shred of doubt in Blaine’s mind that they belonged to each other equally after years of Sebastian belonging to him far more than he allowed himself to belong to the other. Or had he? In ways, Sebastian always had parts of him no one else could have. Because no one else was allowed to see them. Thinking, just for a split nanosecond, that he might’ve lost what they had because of a stupid accident would have killed him. Poor Sebastian drove an entire commute home thinking it. Strong legs wrapped around Sebastian’s middle tighter, holding him in place against the counter he was pressed into so tightly already. They kissed like lovers reunited. Soft and sweet and full of love. Blaine didn’t hold in the soft sigh that he exhaled over Sebastian’s cheek. Nor the sound of delight muffled between their lips.
He was breathless by the time his mouth opened far enough that the tip of his tongue ran up over Sebastian’s bottom lip and teased a promise that it might slip inside to search for his. Sebastian’s grip on his rear made his senses explode in bursts of light through his thighs, stomach and behind his eyelids. God. A simple grab and he felt a throb of ache pang through his frame. The kiss ran deeper, his mouth gave way for it. Two fistfuls of hair were grabbed onto and Blaine moaned almost diving back to capture his husband’s mouth when the other split them apart. “Oh God,” was all he could groan out to Sebastian’s want. If there was ever more of a perfect sales pitch for the taller of the pair to get what he needed? Good luck finding it. Blaine let himself be carried, kissing him with his tongue and teeth nipping his bottom lip until they were in the bedroom. Without breaking anything on the way by some miracle. Without being put down, all the shorter could manage was yanking at Sebastian’s buttons and throwing his torn off tie on the ground. At least he had a bit of a throat to latch his mouth onto. And, like a man starved for the taste of skin he memorized every nuance of, he did.
pianokeysandbowties 