( mssg » blaine]: I know, right? It seems very me. ( mssg » blaine]: Oh? I better have you riding my dick every morning for the next ten years then. ( mssg » blaine]: There’s no situation where I’d ever not want you, Blaine. ( mssg » blaine]: Aww…You’re gonna regret sending those texts in the morning. ( mssg » blaine]: …Oh?
( mssg » remy | sent) it does seem sO you. ( mssg » remy | sent) 🙄🙄 ( mssg » remy | sent) ARe you sure about there isnt? ( mssg » remy | sent)
this might be one of those nights where we test that theorybig time. ( mssg » remy | sent) ?I don’t regret anythign with you ever. Have I told you youre’ one of the best things that’s happned to me in al ong time? You are. ( mssg » remy | sent) Mmhmm you bet there is.
( mssg » blaine] : Only once or twice at a house party. Which, hey, was fun at the time. ( mssg » blaine] : I swear not to bring it up for at least ten years. ( mssg » blaine] : This is why you love me B. I’ll let you pass out in my loft.
( mssg » remy | sent) tHat doesnt surprise me at all. ( mssg » remy | sent) ten is good. I’ll make it wroth your while. ( mssg » remy | sent) If you even want to see mea gain after seeing me like this ( mssg » remy | sent) I love you for many reasonss. this is only one more on a long list. ( mssg » remy | sent) Yes. There is better. Muchbetter.
( mssg » blaine] : Blaine, do not sleep in the hallway, it’s not comfortable at alllll. Super not worth it man. ( mssg » blaine] : Ha. Oh my god. Fine. Fine. I promise not to recall or ever bring up what I might see in there. ( mssg » blaine] : Just a no? Pft. Good. On my way, pretty boy.
( mssg » remy | sent) I won’t have ar reason to sleep in the hallway if you are coming in. This is only my spot for now. Have you selpt in a hallway before?? ( mssg » remy | sent) Never remember and neverbring it up. LEt me forget this. ( mssg » remy | sent) Yes. Cooper is no. On everything right now. Thank you verymuch Remy. Youre the bestt.
( mssg » blaine] Pretty sure like, seven of the positions I fucked you in are frown on in most churches. So… Buzzed? You sure you’re not drunk? Or a spiked drink or something? ( mssg » blaine] Four bottles it is. All right. All right. I won’t call him. But I still think you should let me in.
( mssg » remy | sent) Shhhhhhh. And I don’t know. It just keeps getting worse. my hallway has become my be.d ( mssg » remy | sent) Fine. I’‘ll let you in as longa s you promise not ot remember anything you might see. I don’t hink i could look you in the face if you don’t. ( mssg » remy | sent)
( mssg » blaine] | sent ] I could call a priest but I can’t promise I won’t burn up the moment he walks in with all my sinning. Oh come on B. I’ve seen you in worst positions than just throwing up. I can handle it. Maybe it’s food poisoning?
( mssg » Blaine| sent ) FINE. FINE. NO COOPER. And I’ll grab you like, four bottles of gatorade.
( mssg » remy | sent) You arent’ that terrivle! I’m not sure I’m kind of buzzed too. Waht did I do to myself? ( mssg » remy | sent) Thankyou, Remy. He wouldn’t let me live it down becase I’d make him wory. Four bottles? I’d love you forever.
✉ R: Smythe: Sick? Drunk? What do you need? Water? Like, a bucket? Your brother? TELL ME WHAT YOU NEED B.
( mssg » remy | sent) iThink i need an exorcisxt and maybe soem ginger ale and crackers. how about a gatorade? don’t come insied though. leave them by the door. This is humiliating
The movie was already rolling through some passionate lovemaking scene between two boring leads that Remy had already lost interest in it about an hour ago. Who cares if the lead male married his boss? His attention had already turned to the boy in his arms, his hand reaching up to brush through the other’s hair lightly as he teased it slightly, before brushing his hand through the others dark locks again. Remy was just going to soak in the sight of Blaine resting in his arms, looking so comfortable and so…like he’d always meant to fit there as Remy’s hand moved up to brush through those gelled locks again lightly.
Relaxing Remy at the end of his day had become a habit Blaine was far too addicted to in way too short of an amount of time. Somehow, the artist managed to keep tearing through walls and limits that he’d put on himself years ago. All spawned from the notion that instead of one relationship, then dating, blunder after another? Focusing on his future and career was a hell of a lot safer. Within an hour after meeting him, Blaine was fascinated in ways he knew he shouldn’t let himself be with his best friend’s brother he’d only heard stories about. Now, weeks later they were stretched out on the couch together watching some movie Blaine picked out without knowing most of the plot. Where he was half-interested, Remy apparently wasn’t remotely so. Much to Blaine’s fortune. Because Remy seemed content to distract himself by playing with his hair. Something Blaine was enjoying immensely. Enough that he hummed and turned towards the touch, his fingers uncurling against Remy’s chest to trace the pattern in his shirt. “You keep that up? I’m going to melt into the couch. It’ll be all your fault..”
It was hard not to enjoy that wabble to Blaine’s voice or the sight of him arching his back at his touch like that. It only leads to thoughts of wondering if Blaine would be arching his back during more…pleasurable situations of his touch. It was rather honestly hard to leave Blaine’s side, the feeling of those hips against his own were almost too tempting for words. In a way, Remy enjoyed that delayed reaction, however, along with the building tension between them. It was…like a dance that every little secret look and burning touch fed into. “Exactly like that…” Remy confirmed at the others little arch of his back, as he sucked on the inside of his cheek a bit.
“Your hands?” Remy gave a little thought up as he tapped the pencil to his lips again before he was placing the drawing book on the ground in front of him and standing back up. Either as an excuse to touch the boy again, or it seemed easier than explaining it. Remy was back in the same position he’d just left, as he mirrored the boy’s stance, his body slipping up against his as his own slender hand moved down Blaine’s arm to brush over the others hand before linked fingers with the shorter boy.
He silently moved the others hand to the boys own hip, placing it there before he brushed up his hand back along the boy’s arm and along with his shoulder. “Now…place the other one…in your back pocket. Shoulder against the wall…” He murmured lightly. “Maybe slide your pants down a bit at the back…just a touch..” Remy added lightly, close to the others ear. “if you’re comfortable. You know, for whatever man you’re waiting for in your head.”
Long fingers fidgeted at his sides, thumbs grazed over knuckles or their tips dug against the seams of his pockets as Blaine tried to figure out where to put them or what to occupy them with before Remy had to get up or spend too much time directing him again. He didn’t want to seem this out of his element, but that’s exactly what he was. Not once has someone wanted to draw or paint him. What’s proper etiquette for being the subject of someone’s art? How long as it going to take before Remy realized he’d asked someone so beyond amateur status that it might’ve been a big mistake picking someone who should stick to music and stage to be a model.
Blaine gave himself and Remy a wary, sheepish grin as the other stood. Thank God, he was going to show him instead of giving him instructions to follow. Though that relief came at a price. Remy was close again and Blaine could feel their bodies brush together. Back teeth clenched together. An attempt to not lose his focus on the task at hand. Easier said than done when Remy’s caress down his arm made the hairs on his arm stand on end and their fingers were laced together perfectly.
Hand on his hip and his breath hitching in his throat, the back of Blaine’s head touched against the side of Remy’s shoulder as he felt his pulse quicken. His fingernails ran over his side before he balled up his hand and shoved it in his back pocket. Blaine’s version of a shoulder against the wall looked more like a drunken man using the corner for support. Who could blame him when a swoon made his head all swimmy? “I am. I promise,” his fist pushed the back of his tight chinos, his belt and how form fitting they were not really allowing them to budge barely an inch. Lips twitched into an embarrassed half smile. “Too tight. Sorry.”
“Hm, I don’t like leaving questions in the air.” Remy teased softly, even if it was just likely that Remy enjoyed the idea of those dirty thoughts in Blaine’s head. He was still very much a Smythe after all, and Blaine did seem to have a certain power over them. Remy’s bright eyes danced into Blaine’s they met his and Remy gave a little appreciative hum. “Hm, to you maybe.” To him it was a chance to draw Blaine’s gorgeous body, even partly.
Remy was already flipping through the pages of his sketchbook and by the time he flicked his eyes back up to Blaine, that sweater was off. There was a little run-up and down of Blaine’s body as he soaked in that bare chest. Though it was a little hard to tell if he was checking him out or trying to memorize every line and cut of Blaine’s chest. It was properly both. “Ah.” Remy finally pulled his eyes away from the shorter boy at the question before nodding over to the little ledge that leaned against one of the few windows in the loft.
“How about you lean up against that….At…” Remy simply walked over and gripped Blaine’s hips, his breath hot on the back of the boy’s neck before he moved Blaine over towards the window, and turned his body just slightly away from where Remy was planning on sitting. “Now…when I sit down, turn your head back at me, slightly over your shoulder. Like your…waiting for your lover to come home He’s been away for a while. No one touches you like he does… “ Remy whispered into the boy’s ear. “ You know? Shirt off, the arch of your back…those dark beautiful eyes. Just…gorgous in the afternoon sun. “ Remy mused before his hands gave Blaine’s hips one last squeeze before he moved back to settle on his spot on the ground, his pencil waiting against the paper.
Chewing on the inside of his lip as he watched Remy look him over, Blaine wondered what was going on in his mind. Did he like what he saw? Was he supposed to like it in a way other than a subject? Probably not. Or. Maybe? Okay, so he was officially winging this and overthinking any part of it was probably the worst thing he could do. Because he was clueless on what they were doing might mean to an artist. Especially when that artist had the last name Smythe. Tricky family to pin down, it seems.
Like brother, like brother. Just like the power he wielded over them? The Smythes seemed to have their own abilities when it came to being able to baffle him to the point of speechlessness. And to make him feel dizzy trying to keep up with their quicksilver tongues and uncanny adeptness with tying his into knots. Goosebumps erupted over his shoulders, down them. Then spread up from his hips and small of his back to meet somewhere in the middle of his spine when Remy touched him. The prickly feeling of them continued to spread up his throat making a stark contrast against the heat of Remy’s breath on his skin.
Blaine moved where he was guided, feet unsteady by the time he stopped. Turning his head enough that he could only see a sharp jawline, he nodded his understanding and paced his deep inhale when Remy began to whisper as to not show how he’d been without air the entire time Remy was instructing him. Dizzying Smythes, indeed. At some point, his eyes closed and he swore he could feel the imaginary hands of his pretend lover waiting for him in the dark. “Okay,” his voice shook. Remy’s squeeze made Blaine’s back arch just like he wanted. “Like this?” Remy was gone and Blaine swayed up onto his tip toes before falling back to his heels as he found him sitting on the floor. “What.. What should I do with my hands..?”
The blush was amusing enough to Remy, a sight he was quickly getting used to, even if was totally getting why Sebastian was obsessed with the boy in front of him. Remy gave a little hum in agreement at those words. “True. Maybe I should just put it up in the loft somewhere, with a big arrow to explain what level people are at. You could always just ask where I’m headed though.” Remy pointed out with a slightly teasing tone as he shifted against the counter. It was easy enough to see the others reaction to being called beautiful, which was the only word that really stuck out to the artist to describe Blaine. With those dark, interesting eyes and slender body.
The pink haired boy ducked his head with a laugh at the others next words and he chose to answer the question rather than ignore it. “I do, yeah. Though that’s normally more painting from a photo I’ve taken than a live model. Sort of hard to capture that moment otherwise.” He said, giving another shrug. Why lie about his art? It was part of who he was on the whole..connection between him and a model was just as important to him as what ended up on the canvas. Remy just gave a little smile as he nodded lightly at the others words.
“If you’re sure…” Not that Remy was in a hurry to turn the chance down to see the other naked but…well, he did want Blaine comfortable.
Remy moved across the loft to pick up a sketchbook and a dark pencil. “You…wanna start?”
“Totally didn’t need an answer to that question,” he mumbled under his breath as Remy skipped the nevermind and filled his head with images of different faces all at that point and Remy with his camera there to capture it. Just to fill a canvas full of his mind and soul’s version of the sight. Without looking up, Blaine reached back with his left hand and rubbed his neck. Even threaded his fingers through the back of his hair before cupping his shoulder and lifting his chin up to meet Remy’s green eyes. “It’s just a shirt. I think I can manage.”
Even if being around a group of guys working out and yanking off your shirt of a shower or getting ready for a curtain call and rushing through costumes felt totally different than when a pair of eyes were looking at you like that. He wasn’t so mind boggled that he couldn’t cope with being shirtless and not letting that see-through-you stare make his throat close up.
Blaine followed behind him, fingers returning to the hem of his sweater. He knew the layout of the loft well enough that he could pull the heavy wool up over his head and not worry about banging into the couch he often slept on. When Sebastian let him without taking it himself and insisting Blaine use his bed.
“We can start,” he cleared his throat as the sweater fell from his hand onto the chair he walked behind and stopped long enough to toe off his shoes and nudge them underneath it. “Where should I be? I..um. I have no idea..,” he smiled over at him with a quizzitive blink.
pianokeysandbowties 