FAMOUS LAST WORDS. At least when he was in this good of a mood; plus it being Blaine didn’t hurt either. Another LATE NIGHT conversation turned into a teasing ridiculous that had him laughing out clouds of smoke, coughing and shoving against Blaine with an impossible to hold grin that felt like a friendly shut the fuck up for the past two hours; if only so the seer in his throat and the ache in his lungs would stop because he kept being made to laugh unexpectedly. Blaine knew about far too much but he’d secretly collected it all through moments like this, spent under the stars, in his bed literally just talking, on the L, lost in a tangle throughout the city doing WHATEVER IT WAS they did. Which changed an awful lot, but he liked it.
WELL. IF BLAINE DARED HIM. “Sorry, Anderson.” Lip managed out, slipping down the windshield of a random car he’d deemed worthy to lay on for the past two hours. His feet met the hood and he stood up, turning back to look at him while his hands found the bottom of his shirt. RUTHLESSLY tugging it up over his head. It was at that point he whipped it over to Blaine in the flick of his arm, collectively covering his face for a second until it was tugged off. And by that point, Lip’s pants were already unbuckled and pooling around his shoes… Which he didn’t think through because … He was stepping out of his shoes and pants, nothing more than his socks and boxers, though they’d be slipped off momentarily. “Thing about that is, uh, kinda dare you to too.” Live a little, he egged; full well knowing that Blaine didn’t get up to much mischief stuck in Ohio. All said as he was stepping on the toes of his socks, pulling those off too because where he was going, he didn’t need socks.
“Last one back here gets’ta take my shift at Patsy’s tomorrow.” Oh he was fighting dirty, especially now that Sierra was icing him out for GHOSTING. Even though he’d just been busy. “How you feel about bein’ a dish rat?” If he didn’t feel good about it, he better get fucking moving because shamelessly, his boxers dropped and the stupid smirk on his face had cemented the wager. There was no room for an argument while he turned and jumped off the car and onto the sidewalk beneath the shadows of the trees. “You ever washed a dish in your life?” A teasing taunt to ensure he wasn’t in this alone. “Better hurry up unless you wanna bail me out.” But that was yelled over his shoulder as he was sprinting through the trees, Buckingham Fountain his targeted destination, though he was a ways off, which gave Blaine time to have a chance but only if he hurried the fuck up.
What, did Blaine really think streaking and a four am swim was out of the realm of possibility?
Oh! Oh no! Oh wait! This was bad! This was so bad! Like! Get them ARRESTED bad! A trend that hanging out with Lip seemed to be begging for it to happen at least once. And if his father back in Westerville (or wherever he was currently staying on business) got the ‘Your son needs bail money’ call in the wee hours of the morning? There would never be a moment in Blaine’s life where his achievements would erase that from happening. Never. Like. NEVER. What was he thinking when he blurted out something like that? Of course Lip would rise (or drop trou as it were) to the occasion! Careful what you wish for. Careful what you dare someone who lives life so fearlessly that it constantly walks the line of freedom in ways Blaine could never imagine were so attainable if you let go and what had to be some form of an undiagnosed psychosis of not giving a damn that was both admirable and terrifying.
“I didn’t mean! You can stop! You can TOTALLY stop!” Blaine slammed his hand over his mouth like he could wipe away the words he blurted out and make this all stop. His head bobbed with Lip’s movements as he started toeing off his shoes. The dare thrown back at him was about as expected (thus the supreme OH NO moment) as the pending sunrise but it still made Blaine’s hand rip from his mouth and wave around in the air like he could bat away the words with a swat or two of his hands. “I…!” The fountain felt like a way too close pool of cold damnation waiting for him to take a dive. There went Lip’s socks and the dare that was also a challenge for him to rise up, put his money where his mouth was and LIVE some hit him like a ton of bricks.
So did the threat that he’d have to work Lip’s shift tomorrow. There was no fuel that could fire his inner passion to suddenly strip down to his boxers in the middle of the night than the threat of slaving over a sink for an entire day. No one had ever seen Blaine Anderson strip down to next to nothing as fast as he did just then. His sweater went over his head, his undershirt hit the bench on the sidewalk not three feet from the car he tossed it at and fell off. No time to jump down and pick! Not when his belt was jingling as he unfastened it and his tight fitting chinos were tanked down toned legs and kicked off with his Sperry’s so bare feet were. His eyes briefly flared wide when Lip lost the boxers, too. He was, seriously, going for broke.
Bare ass shining in the moonlight–there went Lip Gallagher in all his glory..
With Blaine gaining speed–no pants, no boxers, nothing but his birthday suit and a hell of a fast pair of legs darting across the grassy patch in hopes of bypassing Lip out of sheer shock value as a cheat if he had to.
Could’ve been the third shoot and beer chaser that was shoved in his hand by Kevin who gave him a wink and a sly I still think you’re that porn guy head tip and grin. He was never going to believe that it WASN’T him, was he? The pornhub addict hummed as Blaine laughed under his breath feeling his face turn warm as Kevin wandered off to go babysit a rowdy table of middle aged men–But! Back to the reason why he just let loose a fifteen minute rambling mess of an explanation about all things Kurt?
Too much liquor and it’d been forever since someone wanted to know about things that far into his past. His usual friends were more interested in the here and now (studies, parties, sex kind of here and now) than in depth, getting to know you talk. Which wasn’t a horrible thing. Not when he made a friend like the one sitting across from him staring into his eyes with a lifted brow. Did he talk way too much? He did, huh?
Blaine ended up dishing a whole lot of honest-to-God’s truth when Lip asked him about this ex of his he’s briefly mentioned before seeming to catch himself and always skipping past getting too far into that conversation. Now, he knew.
I cheated. I ruined things. We got back together. It didn’t work out… A month before classes started in New York, I decided Chicago was a lot less of a conflicting place to be.
‘At some point you have to ask yourself who is really to blame.’
“That’s sweet of you to say. I mean. Really sweet,” he smiled before washing his mouth free from the taste of that recollection with another sip of his beer. “But it’s way in the past and lesson learned, I guess? How about you? What’s your biggest ex story?”
“Eh, you fuckin’ wish, Anderson.” Lip threw back with a grin, just as quickly as Blaine could dish it out. He may have been high, but he wasn’t slow. “That shit-eating grin—
yeah, that’s the one.” The spark in Blaine’s eye was inherently a sign Lip had recognized from a very early age. Mischief. Lip’s cover lasted for now, but he vowed to swear off the fruity drinks for the rest of the night, just in case it was somehow affecting his thought process
— which in itself was a really stupid fucking thought. Blaine’s laughter was the metaphorical finger pointed in a ‘Haha!’, which drove an “Alright, Alright
— enough of these. Let’s get outta here.” No resistance would be accepted when Lip grabbed Blaine’s (empty) glass out of his hand, and took his own to set on the side of someone’s booth, indifferent to the eight people that sat, yelling over the music and enjoying the vibe. Though they looked obviously confused and offended when he offered a wave accompanied by his own South Side Smirk and ducked the fuck out of there, his arm hooking under Blaine’s elbow and dragging him through the crowd to continue their conversation outside as if there had been no interruption, though it didn’t take Lip long to pull out his pack of cigarettes to steal one for the walk.
“Well,” Lip shrugged, throwing back the same looseness and teasing Blaine offered, “I’m still glad I got two then.” Win win, either way. “We magically cut Chad off, so that’s another win for the good guys. Oh no? What are you then?” He chided back, laughter falling from his lips. “We talkin’ like, a solid 7? Or?” Lip hadn’t really thought of the bar, after all risking running into Frank would easily set them up for a third wheel, and instead of having a good birthday, Blaine and Lip would end up spun out on an eight ball on the train yard at Frank’s insistence. But… Blaine had just walked himself into a very big warm welcome from the gang without even realizing. Smirking profusely, Lip tugged out his cellphone and started typing away, listening to Blaine. “Yeah no, smelt like douchebags. Axe and American Eagle, for sure.” A smell he could recognize from being an RA until he too sent that shattering down around him.
“Your, uh, nose hairs good now, bud?” Lip laughed, pocketing his phone and puffing out a huge cloud of smoke in the process, causing him to cough on his laughter a little. “Yeah,” Lip directed, pointing the red embers down the sidewalk, off into the distance, “We’re just gonna take a little break in there, but uh, just know you’re gonna have fun. Let me guide you. Oh
— shit, almost forgot. Debbie made these. Said happy birthday.” Lip reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic baggie full of gummies. “She wants to know what you think ASAP, bein’ laid up has her doin’ all sorts of weird shit, but hey, I thought these were pretty fuckin’ great.”
“Yeah, them. Kev really likes ya, but … might be under the impression you’re, uh, kinda maybe a porn star?”
“It’s a long story.”
Geez, Debbie knew how to make some candy! Blaine scooped a second handful from the bag before tucking it back into his coat pocket and plucking them up two at a time from his palm to pop them in his mouth. Humming appreciatively as he smirked in an afterthought that seemed to come out of nowhere. “You know what gets me about bars like that? Other than the fact that they’re either amazing..cause I’ve been in a couple that were awesome..or they’re so gross that you feel like washing your hands doesn’t even cut the full body scrub down you should get after leaving one? That they call them meat markets. Which one is it? Is it meet as in m-e-e-t or meat as in m-e-a-t?” An arm slung itself around Lip’s shoulders and the hand that hung limply near Lip’s chest smelled suspiciously like sugar and gelatin.
“Cause it really could go either way given the types of meatheads that frequent the ones like that one.” Welp! What a topic to think on. Blaine’s goofy, lopsided grin said he might’ve just left that topic up for Lip to get philosophical about because Blaine might not be all together the best person to finish that trail of thought. Or any. Given the fact that he just pulled a more than half empty bag of gummy bears out of his pocket that were handcrafted so very lovingly by Debbie Gallagher from his pocket with his free hand. It fell open as he held it towards Lip for him to take some. “You’re right. Debbie might’ve just found her calling in life. Want some? They mixed great with your Sex On The Beaches.” A telltale playful side-eye said he still wasn’t over being made to walk up to the bar and order those from Axe-Smelling-Tramp-Stamp Chad. Nor was he going to let Lip off the hook for it any time soon.
He walked like that. Half leaning on Lip for support and trusting him to keep them on the sidewalk as he let his head fall back and looked up at the sky. It was nowhere near as clear as Westerville, Ohio. But at night, when the traffic died out as much as it would ever die out at any time, through the clouds there were stars waiting for him to gaze at. He sighed happily. Even with the lack of stars and fresh air, he couldn’t imagine himself being anywhere else. Especially on his birthday. Especially nowhere else when he was with who he was with heading towards a place where they only wanted him to be himself. “I’m so glad I picked Chicago.. Wasn’t sure I was going to, you know? This almost didn’t happen. Here we are, though. Best birthday ever in a city I love more than I thought I ever would.” He squeezed himself tight to Lip’s side in a hug that had his arm holding Lip’s chest a bit tighter before he loosened it again and glanced back at him. Cheeks pink with their walk, the chilly air, and maybe for another unmentioned reason.
“You’re just..” Dead silence as words sank in followed by being completely dumbfounded. Eeeer?! HUH?! Hello, what did he just say? “….Wait. Did..you just say he thinks I’m a porn star? Okay. The next logical question would be…how?”
“What do you mean by that,” he asked but Blaine already knew the answer. Four times now Lip had suddenly called him with plans that overrode their plans to do whatever and four times he called back an hour or so later just to tell him those plans fell through and they were still on. Four calls. Four out of four cancelled plans only to have Lip show up at his apartment with an apology and a weekend back on the Southside because that’s where they always went.
Blaine had the number on lockdown in his brain because as hard as he tried not to read too much into it? He couldn’t help getting the idea that there was something more behind the fact that every time Lip tried to cancel? He didn’t. How every time he tried to back out, their one night of plans ended up becoming two or three depending on how long the weekend lasted. How could a person with any rational thought process not start to think something was up? Knowing he could be oblivious to things occasionally was something he’d long since accepted about himself. But it’d take a completely daft person not to catch onto the pattern that was rapidly rising up between the two of them.
Considering that tonight was almost number five. Blaine knew it because their texts started out the same way all the others that ended up with uncancelled-cancelled plans. However, they ended long before Lip tossed him a different version of the same old line and the phone went strangely quiet. Only to have a knock on his door ten minutes later and Lip here with beers, something extra as he put it, and a bag over his shoulder that Blaine had a suspicion wouldn’t be leaving the chair he’d thrown it on.
With a thunderstorm brewing outside and the threat of hail keeping them at Blaine’s place for the night instead of making the drive, they were going to make the best of the weekend regardless. “Elaborate as much as you’d like.,” he smiled over his shoulder as he tugged his loosened bow tie through his collar and laid it out on top of his dresser fully preparing to enjoy their downtime in far more comfortable clothes. “You have me way too curious to stop there.”
Blaine was stuck in South Side til Tuesday at the earliest thanks to the storm that blew in. Leave it to the Gallaghers to see a storm as an excuse to throw a house party complete with loud music, plenty of liquor and other things if that was your thing to enjoy. He saw so many people come and go throughout the night that the faces were starting to become a blur of known and strange. Combined with the thrum of the music blasting and the haze of smoke? He was grateful when Mickey showed up (was he annoyed?) and gave him someone familiar to talk to.
Now they were upstairs as the party raged on muffled by the closed door of the boys bedroom. Talking, laughing. Mickey was close enough that Blaine felt his pulse pick up at the sight of that smile. Mickey had no idea how beautiful he was when he laughed like that. Blaine considered himself at an age where he should be past the whole blame it on the alcohol phase. But what else could he blame when he, finally, got the courage brought on by a few shots of whiskey and a lot of cheap beer to lean in when Mickey cracked him up? Regardless of this being at the worst possible place for it to happen (they didn’t even lock the door), Blaine threw in the towel of so many nights pushing the want away. Of telling himself that this wasn’t going to happen. That they were way too different to work. When maybe different was what lured him here to begin with. Tired of fighting and too buzzed to care..
Long fingers curled around the edge of Mickey’s chin. Blaine laughed one more time but it barely made a sound above warm puffs of hair ghosting over Mickey’s lips right before he replaced the caress with his own. Eyes closing and fingers gently holding him close–he kissed him like it might be the only chance he might ever get. Gentle but firm and a plea for it to last.
“Yeah.” Lip laughed, nudging against Blaine’s shoulder as if he was the one acting like an idiot. “Don’t blame you, that guy. He looks like a Chad, probably has a Chinese symbol for ‘joy’
tramp stamped on his back, and a bird wrist tatt, and’uh, had a Prince Albert for a few years until an ex got it stuck in their teeth.” Lip of course, had absolutely no idea if he was right about any of it, but his profiling could be pretty on point sometimes. And if anything, Blaine would at least get a chuckle out of it. He was far from the full package, especially for the other’s natural pedigree, but he could hold his own and 98% of the time his ladies weren’t disappointed in his performance.And yeah, he’d never so much as thought of being with a dude before, even when he found Ian’s stash of porn, even when Ian tried to convince him he couldn’t know unless he’d been with one. But how hard could it be? He knew what felt good, and Blaine already looked at him as if he walked on water half the fucking time. It’d probably be a total wet dream, even if Blaine wasn’t into him. Fuck, the joint was hitting him harder than he thought, but that was probably his bad for how much shatter he’d slipped in. Still the thought of him and Blaine had actually entered his mind and it took him a few seconds to even register what that mean… If anything. He was being an idiot. Jesus. Slightly dazed, Lip shook his head clearing the image away.”Pie in your face though? I was joking. It’s the last thing you need smeared all over your face,” Because that few seconds had kind of tipped the scale into the mental image, and… Good god, was he that fucking desperate right now? Sierra and him had just…
“Yeah’no, it’s fine.” Lip laughed, brushing off how ridiculously animated Blaine seemed to get, acting like he’d just gotten him something far more sentimental or important. The mystified eyes caused his brows to curl, trying to decode what he was actually thinking. “Hey’uh whoever you want. Figured getting you one was a dick move.” He teased, bringing the glass back up to his lips, careful to not poke his eye on the tiki umbrella. The glass was pulled back just in time for Blaine’s arm to press around his shoulder and … His lips? To meet with his cheek. That he didn’t imagine and it hadn’t happened before and now… Well, he hadn’t imagined it. It took a second and a half for his expression to shift back down, the small bit of stun wearing off as he turned, eyes finding Blaine’s. “Yeah, no prob.” He shrugged, following the toast’s direction back to the bartender. Blaine was playing dirty. Raising his glass, he nodded, gaze weighted with something that hadn’t been there moments before and sardonically toasting over to the appointed Chad. The shiteating grin didn’t falter as his eyes moved back to Blaine, “yeah no, we’re keeping you away from Lucky. You’re woke to his pot’a gold of lies now, alright? Hey, drink up, Carrie.” (Wait, it was on the beach, not the city. Whatever, he doubted Blaine needed the magnifying glass to see his reach. ”This place is lame. I’m not gonna let you ring in your birthday surrounded by a bunch’a pricks. Might as well give you a real South Side birthday. None’a this Facebook shit.”
Wow! Lip really managed to paint poor ‘Chad’ in one heck of a light. Blaine, of course, stole the opportunity to give him one of his cheekiest grins yet. A sure sign something was brewing in his head to toss at the other. Right before it was blurted out in a taunt that had Blaine lightly tapping the side of his foot with the edge of his shoe to get his attention then toss it towards good ol’ Chad behind the bar with a tick of his chin in Chad’s direction. “Seems like you know him. Is he an ex of someone you know? Or… Yours? Is there something you’re not telling me, Lip?” See? Blaine could dish out the picking on just as bad and maybe unfairly as Lip could. Especially with a drink in him already before they left the house and and now three or four sips into another. Lightweight always. But at least he was a cheap date! Lips still open from his goading smile, hazel eyes sparkled mischievously. “What should I have smeared all over my face…? In your expert opinion?” God bless him when he could be Mister Oblivious. Not connecting where Lips mind wandered off to, to himself because..Lip never would think that..Blaine simply took another sip of his drink, chased the taste off his lips with a sweep of his tongue and then burst out laughing when Chad turned around and a hint of some kind of tramp stamp was at the small of his back.
“You’re coming with me. And no present is a dick move. Regardless of one or two tickets. Though it would’ve been a little awkward to go alone. Might’ve had to drag you with me anyway.” Lip was off the hook from his derpish question within a couple beats of a very gay club remix of a Sam Smith song that shouldn’t even exist. “S’not like I’m going to burn the place down if Chad magically ends up cutting us off if you keep staring back at him like that. Not that psycho.” Different Carrie and holy crap what a great time to point out a teeny, maybe Blaine wasn’t so oblivious sort of thought made loose lipped thanks to strong alcohol putting a hole in the filter between his thoughts and his mouth. “Hey! Okay! Where are we going next,” perking up–Blaine sucked the last three sips down in one non-ending string of pulls from his straw until the ice clinked against the sides of the glass. All gone! Round two here? Or round two elsewhere? “This place sort of smells weird anyway,” his nose scrunched and a hand batted some air back and forth under the tip of his nose. “Maybe it’s all the cologne, sweat and liquor but..is it just me or..does it really just start to burn your nose hairs after a while?” WHAT? Welcome to Blaine’s Scattered Brain. Probably a blessing considering this strange circle that the two of them were slowly starting to dance around a certain…well…nothing major. “Are we going to that Alibi place again? The one where the guy the size of a refrigerator works at? They’re hilarious..” They’d have a better night there than spending it with Chad and strangers, anyway.
A huff of laughter came at Blaine’s suggestion, the worst part was Lip could picture it far too clearly. “He’s not worth the money, plus—
“ He started up, unable to hold back the beginnings of a smirk, “Wouldn’t wanna encourage him. He’s liable to think he can make it as an artist if I plant that seed.” After all, it didn’t take much to send Frank down the road of any get rich quick scheme and considering how subjective art was, he didn’t doubt for a second that there was someone out there his father wouldn’t mind ripping off. “I like the idea though,” He grinned. might make the place look a lot classier than it was. If anything it would stick with the gentrification theme sweeping throughout the neighborhood.
Lip leaned over the side of the bed for a moment and opened the drawer to his night side table. He rustled around for a moment before finding the small box of joints he had rolled, and pulled one out before putting the lid back on and shutting the drawer. Rain always made him want to blaze, then again did he really need an excuse? Rolling back over he let his head rest against the headboard as he grabbed his lighter and lit the tip of the joint. It took a little while to get a nice glow, but once it finally stuck around, he inhaled deeply, taking the smoke deep into his lungs. As he did so, he extended the joint over to Blaine, should he want to partake.
He listened with a grin, eventually exhaling and avoiding a building cough that threatened to reprimand him after testing his limits a few seconds too long.”Fuck, everyone would flock for that shit.” Lip laughed, though his cough finally bubbled over as the cloud of smoke hang stagnantly above them, slowly dissipating. “Slum life: An Addict’s Renovations. The lesbians up the street would eat that shit up.” Art and other people’s suffering? That was so hot right now. At least to the people that always sped up every time someone from South Side passed them by on the sidewalks. They clutched their purses tighter, or got closer to their partners as if waiting for the lowlifes to strike and rob them for every penny they had.
Lip’s tongue wet over his lips as he listened, eyes quietly surveying Blaine as he spoke. He was pretty good at reading people when his dick wasn’t involved (and often trying to make him avoid the warning signs). Karen had been lonely too. Hell, even Mandy. Maybe not on the surface level of things, stuck within the depths of the Milkovich house, but she had gotten the shit end of the stick, sadly he had also played his part in that one. Fuck. If Blaine didn’t paint a picture. He’d seen the guy party, puke his guts out, and hold his own, and yet under all that, under the prep boy clothes and the old Hollywood hair was something a lot deeper. Something that oddly reminded him of Helene, Well, the good parts of her. It was almost uncomfortable how much he could relate. After all, wasn’t his quest always trying to fill that hole inside? The one he blamed Karen for leaving, but in reality it had been Karen who had temporarily filled it if anything. “Nah, don’t.” Lip shrugged off, shaking his head dismissively as Blaine tried to explain himself.
Lip less offered the joint now, but instead handed it over because if anyone needed a hit or five, it was Blaine. “Hate to break it to ya, bud… But I think that’s called depression.” A simplistic term that didn’t scratch the surface, but within their conversation there were different tiers. Lonely and quiet was one thing, but what Blaine was describing was far more. An affliction of perhaps the two, but it was all linked. “You’re still focusin’ on other people, aren’t you?” Lip questioned, looking over and actually meeting Blaine’s eyes. It’s not that he thought of himself as the charity case in the situation, but it made sense as to why Blaine wanted to be around the dysfunction so much more. “Did you ever get back to being what you wanted?”
Could have been much worse.
“Yeah, totally. Like, you could have had Carl stealing your socks so he could jerk off under the covers while you’re trying to study for your calc exam.” The grin slowly turned into laughter as Lip nudged Blaine’s shoulder, trying to lighten things a little bit, but at this point in life, the heavy shit didn’t really seem that heavy anymore, not unless he was in the thick of it and it was happening around him. “Did I mention we had bunk beds?”
From what little amount of Lip’s father he’s experienced, Lip was right. Frank Gallagher didn’t seem the kind to let an opportunity to not work while making as much money he could scrape up go by. Putting a paintbrush in his hand could either be a disaster or a blessing. Probably the first one of the two. Instead of painting his own work, Frank would be the type to try and crank out fake Monet’s to unsuspecting people saying he found them in an estate sale and got lucky. “True. Probably best to let him do whatever he might come up with next that doesn’t land him in jail for forgery,” Blaine mused with a hum and a shrug. If Frank put half as much effort as Lip has told him he puts into his scheming towards making something of himself? His family would never have had to worry about a thing. The guy would have been beyond successful. It was more than sad to know that his kids suffered for his lack of trying.
Blaine watched as Lip got all of his pot supplies out. He never participated in the whole getting high thing that Lip (and everyone around him) loved to do. But he didn’t mind when others did. Their choice, yeah? So, he watched with a building curiosity as Lip drew out a join actually a little disappointed that they were all rolled up instead of Lip going through the process of making one himself. Watching how concentrated the other got while he went through his ritual of rolling a joint was always entertaining. Ah well. Next time. With pot and the Gallaghers? There’d always be a next time.
Lip playing along with the hipster photographer idea made Blaine grin and lean in bouncing their shoulders against each others as he laughed. “See? You’re getting an idea there, though. Take your photography and sell it to people who are trying to seem cultured by just being..not and make money off their horrible attempts at seeming edgy or hip? That’s how real artists start for the most part, right? Selling depth to the rich who don’t know how to get it any other way? And a few of them who really understand get lucky enough to grab a piece or two before they’re all gone?” Ah well. That’s how museums started. Or maybe it was the contact high he didn’t realize he was getting as he breathed with the heavy cloud above their heads that made him invent the whole idea. He was a little too relaxed to think too hard about it.
Then he was blabbering about his homelife. No doubt his tongue loosened by the warmth his body was sinking into and by the time he was done, he felt like an apology was in order. Of course Lip wouldn’t let him give one. Lip never let him apologize for himself. In a very different way than his friends back in Ohio used to dismiss his nature to excuse himself if he thought he had done something to earn it. They dismissed the whole situation. Sort of negated everything around it that happened. Or honed in on one thing about it that made Blaine pretty sure they didn’t want to let completely go (because it’d be brought up months later) but felt obligated to accept or dismiss his apology as a means of acceptance.
Lip always made him feel like whatever slip he made didn’t matter. Because that’s what humans do and in the long run of things? Letting stuff that wasn’t a big deal slide was how friendship worked. Mistakes happen, but they aren’t that big of a deal because the bigger picture was way more huge than that tiny blip of oops. “Depression? Yeah,” he smiled at the thought and glanced down to the blanket he pinched between his thumb and forefinger and began grazing the edges of them over the cotton. “Not as much as I used to,” Lip caught his eye and he didn’t look away. “In a better, more healthier way now, I think. It’s always gonna be my nature to focus on people. But I focused a whole lot on me since I’ve been here too.”
“Back to what I wanted? I’m getting there.”
”That happened? How’d you.. Wow. Wow.” GROSS! Oh thank God he was the little brother. Blaine blanched with a laugh and shook his head at the offered joint handing it back with a grateful smile. “Not sure a non-filtered joint is great for the voice but thank you. However. No thank you for the image you put in my head that I don’t think any amount of wishing I could forget that is going to relieve. Also. What about you? Ever think you’ll focus on you completely? Because..sort of pot calling the kettle black here..”
( mssg » blaine | unsent ) you make it look so simple. i was thinking about it the other day and i still don’t know how the fuck this happened or why you’re still here. thought it was charity hours at first and i was so ready to fuck it up. i thought it’d be fun. see how long richie rich took to crack. ( mssg » blaine |unsent ( ⚆ _ ⚆ ) ) the way everyone looks at us, i know what they’re thinking alright. i know you do too, even if you act like you see something else. ( mssg » blaine | unsent ) thought everyone like you was either a sucker or some stupid prick looking to feel better about themselves. i don’t get it. i know you don’t like looking at yourself, and i get it. but i’m not gonna take you down too. everything always starts out good but this is gonna end the same way. i was so close last night. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) gotta cancel tomorrow ( mssg » blaine | sent ) have to take debbie and frannie down to see derrek before they do something stupid. might not be home before the weekend, ( mssg » blaine | sent ) maybe i’ll see you on tuesday?
( mssg » lip | sent ) I’m confused. Lip? What do you think they’re thinking? I don’t want to assume the meaning of what you’re saying here. Because it could be several things, you know? ( mssg » lip | sent ) Oh.. ( mssg » lip | sent ) Sure. I understand. Let me know if you want company to hang out with when she goes to see him. Or if it’s brother/sister/niece time? I get that, too. ( mssg » lip | sent ) I’ll see you then..
after a brief pause..
( mssg » lip | sent )
Are you sure this isn’t about your other text message? I’d prefer you tell me if it was. Or if I’m being an idiot and reading way too much into it.
( mssg » (oops not) rachel | sent ) Hang on. I appreciate your advice. Don’t get me wrong. I think there’s a bigger issue we’re dealing with here that you’re forgetting while saying you’re rooting for that outcome. ( mssg » (oops not) rachel | sent ) I came here to start over. Doing that wouldn’t just be a step backwards. It’d be a 180 in the opposite direction of continuing to do that. ( mssg » (oops not) rachel | sent ) You’re so sweet and I adore you but I don’t think that’s the best idea.
pianokeysandbowties 