Глава 5.
Chapter 5
Blaine’s fingers coast over the keys on his laptop, typing different phrases into the YouTube search bar. It’s Tuesday night, the debate is on Thursday, and Blaine wants to be prepared. He’s watched hours of presidential speeches over the past few days, learning when to pause to take a deep breath and when to ball his hand into a fist in order to really get his point across. Public speaking has never been hard for him – he had no problem introducing the Warblers to a crowd of people or standing up in front of the kids in glee club – but this is different. He has to make people like him, to get them to actually listen to what he has to say. He knows his ideas are good ones and he wants to help make McKinley a better school (as unlikely as that is to happen), so he needs this speech to be perfect, needs people to care enough to put a little check mark next to his name.
He’s watching his fourth grainy black and white video of JFK, his eyes starting to ache from staring at his computer screen, when his phone rings. His heart jumps in his throat, the same way it has been for the past week, and nothing at all like it was a few months ago. He reaches over to look at the screen and his eyebrows pull together.
“Cooper?” Blaine asks as he answers the phone. It’s not unheard of for his brother to call him, but it’s always a little unexpected.
“Hey baby bro,” Cooper says loudly and Blaine can hear Los Angeles traffic in the background. “How are things at home?” Cooper had started calling more often since the breakup, quick phone calls to check in and inevitably give Blaine updates on how his auditions were going. The phone calls were exactly what Blaine had needed at the time, to take his mind off his heartache and to focus on Cooper’s ridiculous stories about LA, if only for a few minutes.
It’s the first time that Cooper has called that Blaine doesn’t even hesitate to answer. “Things are good. Really good, actually.” He can’t hide the happiness in his voice and he finds that he doesn’t want to.
“Really?” Cooper asks, his shock evident in Blaine’s ear, as if he doesn’t fully believe him. “Why? Did you win class president?”
Blaine’s taken aback that Cooper even remembers that he’s running. Blaine hardly mentioned it in their last e-mail. “No, the speeches are in a few days.” He sighs and looks at the computer screen. “That’s actually what I was working on when you called.”
“Say no more, squirt,” Cooper says, and Blaine doesn’t even cringe at the nickname. “I’m here to help. Now, I’m sure you’ve noticed in your research that pointing is the key to any political race.” Blaine holds the phone away from his mouth and groans. “Now, I’ve taught you the basics, so you should be okay. But if you want to win, we’ll have to step up your game. Can you Skype tonight? I can try to teach you the double-point. Once you can do that, you’ve got this thing in the bag.”
“I think I can manage, Coop,” Blaine says, a little irritated but mostly grateful to have his brother to talk to. “How are auditions going?”
He lets Cooper ramble for a few minutes, telling him about his new job as a bike messenger and how the wife of some big time Hollywood producer opened her car door at the exact moment Cooper was riding by. “I gave her my card. I think this might be my shot, Blaine!” They talk for a little while longer, until Blaine mentions that he really needs to finish up on his speech for Thursday.
“Okay, I’ll let you go,” Cooper says. “Tell the parents I said hi.”
“I will,” Blaine promises.
There’s a pause between them before Cooper starts again. “You seem really happy, Blaine.”
“I really am, Cooper,” Blaine says sincerely.
“You’re not going to tell me why, are you?”
Blaine doesn’t really want to explain his whole situation with Sebastian to Cooper, and he doubts that Cooper would really understand, anyway. He’d try, he always tries, but he would inevitably just give Blaine some silly advice and then tell him how to channel his feelings for a future role.
“Maybe during our next phone call,” Blaine says. “I’ll talk to you later, Coop.”
“Don’t forget to poin—“ Blaine hangs up, cutting Cooper off, shaking his head and laughing. Talking to his brother always puts him in a good mood and he’s smiling when he turns back to his computer to watch the rest of the video. He only gets a few seconds in before his phone buzzes with what Blaine assumes is a text from his brother reminding him to bleach his teeth before the debate.
From Sebastian: Please tell me you had Mr. Parker for history.
It catches Blaine off guard, a text from Sebastian so early in the week, but he’s quick to reply. I unfortunately suffered through his class my entire sophomore year. Let me guess, you have to pick a topic for your research paper? The video of JFK plays in the background, but Blaine doesn’t hear it.
From Sebastian: Yes and he’s being a giant prick about everything. Help me?
Blaine pauses, rereading the words. Sebastian has an entire school full of boys who can help him, ones who are currently taking the class with him. Blaine knows Thad would be happy to help and that Nick loves history. But he’s asking Blaine, who hasn’t been inside a Dalton classroom in over a year. Pick something interesting, not something predictable like Abraham Lincoln or The Great Depression.
From Sebastian: What topic did you pick?
Blaine thinks back. I’m pretty sure it was the role of photography and journalism during The Civil War.
From Sebastian: Write my paper for me and I’ll pay you back in blowjobs.
Blaine feels heat creep up the back of his neck and his eyes quickly glance over to the door, as if his parents are going to walk through and grab his phone from his hand. He clears his throat. I have my own homework to do.
From Sebastian: Lame. And we both know I’d blow you anyway.
Blaine can’t think of anything to write back, his eyes fixated on his phone. Heat has stretched up his neck and down to his stomach and he’s not even shocked when he feels himself getting hard at the memories from the Friday before; Sebastian on his knees, his mouth tight and warm and never stopping.
From Sebastian: Cat got your tongue?
Blaine can picture the smirk that he knows is on Sebastian’s face, leaning back on his bed as he types out the texts, completely pleased with himself for getting Blaine flustered. Blaine shakes his head and starts to respond, ignoring the heat in his stomach. I’m not sexting with you, Sebastian.
From Sebastian: Really? You don’t want to hear about what I’d do to you if you were here right now? How I’d have you bent over my computer desk.
Blaine doesn’t know if there’s more to the text because he stops reading it, clicking his phone screen black and putting it face down on his bed. He stares at the back of his phone and takes a few deep breaths through his nose to calm himself. He can’t get worked up thinking about Sebastian when it’s only Tuesday, when Friday is still three longs days away. The gnawing in his stomach comes earlier and earlier every week, his anxious excitement to see Sebastian starting almost as soon as he leaves.
He’s still staring as his phone when it buzzes again and he jumps at the vibration. He debates not looking, just leaving it face down and not reading whatever Sebastian wrote. But he can’t stop himself, not lately, and not when it comes to Sebastian.
From Sebastian: What are you doing?
Blaine’s eyebrows draw together. I told you, I’m doing my homework.
From Sebastian: Come over.
Blaine’s mouth drops open so quickly that his jaw actually cracks. He rereads the words a few times, convinced that he must have made them up entirely. But they’re there, in black and white on the screen of his phone. Blaine is still so confused that he can only type: What?
From Sebastian: My roommate just snuck out to see his girlfriend. He’ll be gone for a few hours. Come over.
Blaine debates for less than a minute before he’s opening his bedroom door and peeking down the hall. It’s past nine o’clock and there’s no light filtering out underneath his parents’ door. He hesitates before calling out, “goodnight.”
“Goodnight, dear.” His mother’s voice floats down the hallway but it’s sleepy and low and Blaine can tell they’ll be asleep soon.
He goes back into his room, grabs his jacket and slips on his shoes before he can think twice. He checks his phone again as he gets his keys from his nightstand.
From Sebastian: Well?
Leaving now. Blaine sends back. Maybe a few weeks ago he would have stopped and thought about going over to Sebastian’s, spent time debating on if he should sneak out of his house on a school night and driving over to Dalton. But he doesn’t even pause as he tiptoes out of his room, down the hall, and out the front door. Even though he’s more than a little confused about what he’s feeling, his desire to see Sebastian overrides everything. He’ll think about it later; how he’s slowly wanting to spend time with Sebastian, more than just quick fucks late at night, how his stomach fills with butterflies every time he sees Sebastian’s name pop up on his phone, how he knows, deep down in his gut, that he misses Sebastian when he’s not around. He doesn’t think of that though, not now, unlocking his door and watching to make sure his parents’ window stays dark before backing out of the driveway.
--
The drive to Dalton is a muscle memory to Blaine, hardly needing to pay attention to the road as he drives the familiar path. He knows it takes twenty-three minutes to get to his old school (thirty-eight with traffic and forty-four in bad weather) but tonight he makes it there in nineteen. He pulls up to the dorms and his heart aches as he stares at the large brick buildings. There are days when he misses Dalton so much that his insides actually hurt, the feeling of longing strong and ever-present.
He slides out of his car slowly and shuts the door quietly, careful to not make a sound. He knows Dalton has a strict no-visitors-after-nine rule, and Blaine wonders who Sebastian bribed to look the other way. He shoots off a quick text, I’m here., before crossing the parking lot. It’s dark and the only lights that are on are by the lacrosse field, yards and yards away, barely making their way over to Blaine. He doesn’t need them though. He knows his way around Dalton better than almost anything else in his life; the twenty-two steps on the main staircase, the weight of the double doors at the front entrance and how they’re always cool under his palm, the shine of the marble floor throughout the halls.
“Blaine!” Sebastian quietly hisses in the darkness. Blaine picks up his pace to a light jog, crossing the parking lot quickly until he meets Sebastian, who is holding the door open so Blaine can slip inside. Sebastian presses his finger to his lips, whispering, “shhh,” as he waves Blaine over to follow him.
They creep down the hallway slowly, both of them knowing exactly which steps to take so the floorboards don’t squeak. Blaine’s heart is in his throat; the fear of getting caught is there in the back of his mind, but mostly his body is reacting to having Sebastian so close. He tries to notice the things around him, the paintings and the architecture and everything about Dalton that he’s missed over the past year. He hasn’t been back since Regionals the year before, when he watched the Warblers preform Michael Jackson and he had to lie through his teeth. He wants to take everything in, remember all the little things about this school that he’s missed, but he can’t concentrate on anything past Sebastian; pressed up along his side as he pushes the key in to his door.
Sebastian unlocks his door quietly, opening it wide enough for them both to slip through. It’s dark in his room, a hint of light seeping in from underneath the door and through the cracks in his window shade. Blaine doesn’t even have a chance to orientate himself to the darkness before Sebastian is on him, pushing him back and trapping him roughly against the door.
“I’m surprised you came,” Sebastian says. His voice is low, quiet in the darkness, a small vibration against Blaine’s throat.
“No you’re not,” Blaine gasps as Sebastian scratches his teeth along the side of Blaine’s neck, following with his tongue.
Sebastian chuckles as he slides his hands up and under Blaine’s shirt, dragging his fingertips along the sensitive skin of Blaine’s stomach. “No, you’re right. I’m not surprised,” he says, moving back as he grabs as the bottom of Blaine’s shirt and pulls it over his head. He’s back quickly, mouthing down the slope of Blaine’s neck before Blaine even has time to process what’s happened. “I didn’t know if I could get you out on a school night, but I had to see you. I couldn’t wait until Friday.” Blaine knows that he only means for sex, but it doesn’t stop his heart from beating a little faster deep inside his chest.
Blaine is aching already, throbbing in his jeans as Sebastian works at his neck, his fingers digging patterns into the curves and dips of Blaine’s stomach and chest. He’s no longer surprised at how quickly he gets hard when Sebastian’s hands are on him, how it doesn’t take much more than Sebastian’s open mouth or his flat palms to get Blaine’s entire body shaking. It feels as if he can’t catch his breath, his mind blank as he lets the feeling of Sebastian’s tongue and hands wash over him. He pulls uselessly at Sebastian’s shoulders, fisting the rough fabric of his blazer until Sebastian gets the hint and shrugs it off, letting it fall to the floor. Blaine grabs at Sebastian’s tie, loosening it enough until he can pull it over Sebastian’s head while Sebastian rips open the first few buttons of his shirt, just enough so it can follow his tie and blazer onto the ground.
And then they’re back together, bare chest against bare chest, Sebastian’s lips hard and needy against his own. It knocks the breath out of him, leaves him lightheaded and struggling for air as Sebastian kisses him. Sebastian claws at Blaine’s waist, desperately fitting their hips together, and all Blaine can do is hang on. He clings to Sebastian’s back as Sebastian grinds forward, pressing Blaine into the hard wood of the door, his hips snapping and rubbing and making Blaine see sharp flecks of color behind his eyelids.
“Love how eager you are for it,” Sebastian mumbles against Blaine’s lips, his voice low, the threat of getting caught still a real possibility. It makes Blaine’s hips jerk, pushing off the door and closer to Sebastian, always closer.
“Sebastian,” he moans, a little too loudly when only a door separates them from the hallway outside. He knows he needs to be quiet, knows that he can’t be heard, and that he needs to keep his desperate moans locked down inside, but he can’t. Not when Sebastian is rubbing so perfectly against him, rolling his hips up and down and just right, causing Blaine’s knees to shake each time their cocks press together. It’s dizzying, even through his jeans and Sebastian’s uniform pants, the intensity clawing its way up Blaine’s spine, making his head fall back and his jaw drop open as Sebastian licks inside his mouth.
“Bet I could get you to come in your pants, couldn’t I?” Sebastian whispers, and Blaine has no idea how he’s still so composed when Blaine is so close to the edge, tripping towards his orgasm and completely embarrassing himself.
Blaine tries to mumble something, yes or no or maybe something else entirely, but his voice is lodged in the back of his throat, trapped there while Sebastian works against him. He can do nothing besides hold on, fingers digging into the hard muscles of Sebastian’s back as his thrusts take Blaine closer and closer to the edge.
“St-stop,” Blaine begs, not because he wants Sebastian to still his hips, to stop rubbing hard and fast against his cock—he can’t come in his jeans and he’s so, so close to doing just that.
“Just do it,” Sebastian urges, the naked skin of his chest feeling like fire against Blaine’s. Their breathing is heavy, labored, too loud in the quiet room. “Blaine, come on. I want you to.”
Blaine’s body tenses all over and then snaps, his body jerking as much as it can while Sebastian holds him steady against the door. He bites down on the slope of Sebastian’s shoulder to keep from crying out while he comes, the taste of Sebastian’s skin on his tongue only making it more intense.
He doesn’t even have time to come down before Sebastian is pulling him from the door and dragging him over to his bed, his hands fumbling with the button and fly on Blaine’s pants. Blaine stumbles over, tripping as his pants catch around his knees. He falls onto the bed, his back hitting the familiar soft mattress, and Sebastian tugs his pants off the rest of the way. Blaine is still loose-limbed from his orgasm and he moves easily, watching with heavy eyes as Sebastian strips off his own slacks and underwear. He climbs onto his bed, crawling up Blaine’s body.
“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” Sebastian asks, trying to keep his voice steady, but Blaine can hear the clear desperation.
“Mmm, yeah,” Blaine replies, already rolling over onto his stomach. He doesn’t climb onto his hands and knees, content to just lay with his head and arms resting on Sebastian’s pillow, digging his nose in and breathing deeply. His eyes are closed and he can hear Sebastian moving behind him, a drawer sliding open and then the top of a bottle snapping.
Sebastian’s hand is a firm pressure against the small of Blaine’s back, pressing Blaine down into the mattress as he coats his fingers. Blaine sighs, wiggling down into the bed and getting a bit more comfortable, sliding his leg open just enough for Sebastian to fit his fingers.
Sebastian starts with two and Blaine opens up easily, his body relaxed and craving Sebastian’s touch. Blaine can tell Sebastian is barely holding himself back, can feel the how tense he is, not wanting to rush but hardly able to stop himself.
“You can do it,” Blaine says, his voice muffled by the pillow. He picks his head up and looks back, his pulse quickening when he sees the way Sebastian looks outlined in the darkness; hair a mess, his chest heaving, his eyes locked down on Blaine’s ass. It’s enough to make him start to harden again, rubbing against the bed as Sebastian pushes his fingers deeper inside. “Fuck me, please.”
Sebastian’s groan is loud and bordering on painful. It sends sparks shooting up Blaine’s spine and he buries his face deeper into Sebastian’s pillow. He hears rustling behind him, a wrapper ripping, and then Sebastian’s large hands are on his waist, his long fingers curling around the bones of Blaine’s hips.
“You’re so fucking hot and you have no idea,” Sebastian says, his jaw locked in concentration, steadying Blaine’s hips as he slowly pushes inside. Blaine’s skin burns at the compliment, holding it close and committing it to memory.
Sebastian is quick from the start, the bed protesting beneath them as Sebastian fucks down. Blaine’s hips raise and push back to meet his thrusts, the pleasure changing from a slow burn to an immediate need. It seems that it doesn’t matter that he just came, writhing and pressed up against the door; he’s already hard and gasping for breath as Sebastian fucks him, hands scratching at the sheet as he tries to hold on. Sebastian’s hands are touching him everywhere; sliding up the length of his back, fingers catching on the knobs of his spine, grabbing onto his shoulders before dragging them down and fitting them in the notches over Blaine’s hips. Sebastian’s fingertips leave a trail of goose bumps everywhere they touch; down the skin of Blaine’s neck, in the curve of his spine, across the planes of his back and around to his chest.
“You,” Sebastian murmurs as he bends forward, sliding his arms under Blaine’s body and wrapping them around his chest, hiking him a little further up on his knees. Blaine listens, waiting for Sebastian to continue talking, but he just presses his cheek into the space between Blaine’s shoulder blades, breathing heavily against Blaine’s skin, and chokes out “Blaine”.
Blaine can feel Sebastian struggling to hold back, to hold on. His arms shake where they’re wrapped tightly around Blaine’s middle, his hips a constant pressure as they grind forward. It feels good, but it’s not enough, not when he knows Sebastian wants more. “Come on,” Blaine urges, pushing back, taking Sebastian deeper inside. “Don’t hold back,” he begs, moaning when Sebastian’s hips snap forward. “I can take it. I want it, I promise,” he babbles, trying anything to get Sebastian to move faster.
And that’s all it takes. Sebastian snaps, unwrapping his arms from Blaine’s chest and pulling back. Blaine misses the heat of his skin as soon as he moves away, trying his best to keep his whines deep down in his chest and not let them out through his wide open mouth. He stops them from spilling out, but just barely, Sebastian’s thrusts picking up speed as his hands scramble for purchase on Blaine’s hips and lower back. The pleasure is overwhelming, almost too much, as Sebastian’s quick thrusts fill him so fucking perfectly. It should scare him, the level of how good this is—how he knows he’ll never tire of it or be done wanting more. He wants Sebastian all the time, constantly, every moment that he’s awake and even when he’s dreaming. He hasn’t admitted it to himself, not yet, but he can’t stop thinking it, not when his feelings are clawing at the inside of his chest so obviously that he can’t pretend anymore.
He reaches a hand down, just enough room to touch his cock, pushing the unwanted thoughts out of his head. Instead he thinks of things that won’t get him in over his head, repeating to himself that Sebastian doesn’t want a boyfriend, nothing serious, that this is just sex to him and nothing more. It hurts, but Blaine pushes it aside, focusing on the drag of Sebastian’s dick as he pulls back, the fullness as he pushes inside. Blaine works his hand in fast strokes over his cock, focusing on his own need to come. He knows Sebastian is close, has already memorized his quick puffs of air, how his hips lose their rhythm and become erratic right before he comes.
Their breathing is loud, the bed groaning beneath them and tapping against the wall as Sebastian fucks Blaine deep into the mattress. Blaine knows they need to be quiet, knows that getting caught is a real threat, but he can’t stop. It feels like too much—too much to keep his mouth closed and the sounds inside.
“Close,” Sebastian struggles to say, and Blaine closes his eyes and lets Sebastian’s voice wash over him. Sebastian’s hips snap forward a final time before stilling, his fingers digging into Blaine’s waist until it borders on pain. Blaine’s so fucking close, right there, moving his hand quickly, wanting to come with Sebastian still inside of him.
But it’s not Sebastian’s hands, or his cock, or his teeth, that sends Blaine over the edge; it’s his words, barely audible as he slowly starts to come down, his fingers loosening their grip. “You’re the best I’ve ever had, you know.” It’s soft and low, but it’s there, Blaine hears it, and then he falls.
Sebastian’s words echo in Blaine’s ears on a loop as they fall onto the bed together, Blaine onto his side and Sebastian curled up right beside him, throwing a protective arm around Blaine’s waist. Blaine tries not to let his heart speed up, tries to stop his brain from overthinking as Sebastian tucks his chin over Blaine’s shoulder and throws a blanket over their legs. Blaine doesn’t think about how Sebastian’s arm fits around him, how their breathing syncs up perfectly, how this is something that he might want all the time. Instead he closes his eyes, and floats.
--
He’s not sure how long he sleeps for, but he wakes to Sebastian rubbing his shoulder and whispering in his ear. “Blaine, wake up. My roommate is going to be back soon.”
Blaine’s body protests as he rolls onto his back, a loud groan leaving his mouth as he moves his sore muscles. He’s exhausted, doesn’t have the energy to move, but he knows that’s not the only reason he doesn’t want to leave Sebastian’s bed. “Give me a minute.” Sebastian chuckles as he rolls off the bed and Blaine frowns at him. “This is your fault, you know.”
“And I will gladly take full blame,” Sebastian teases back. He turns on the lamp by his bedside and pulls on just his uniform pants before walking around the room to gather Blaine’s clothes. He stops at Blaine’s jeans and makes a face. “Well these are ruined.”
“Again, your fault,” Blaine says, sitting up and tugging on his shirt that Sebastian tosses over.
Sebastian walks over to his dresser and pulls open a drawer, digging through before he finds what he’s looking for and bringing them over to Blaine. “Here, wear these,” he says, handing him a pair of well-worn sweatpants, the Dalton lacrosse logo stitched across the hip. “Try not to drown in them.”
Blaine rolls his eyes and pushes at Sebastian’s shoulder, but his heart swells as he stands up to put the pants on. They’re huge on him, obviously, but he rolls the waistband up a few times until his feet are no longer covered. “Thanks,” he says, watching closely as Sebastian just shrugs his shoulder.
“I’ve got a million pairs,” Sebastian says as if it’s nothing, but Blaine hopes that it’s something more.
--
They sneak back through the Dalton hallways, stopping every so often when they’re sure they hear voices or a door opening. They make it outside without getting caught, Sebastian sticking close to Blaine’s side as they cross the parking lot. It feels nice, having Sebastian right there, and Blaine has to dig his nails into his palms before doing something stupid, like reaching out for Sebastian’s hands.
When they come up to his car, Blaine feels his heart drop just a little. He doesn’t want to leave, wants to stay curled up on Sebastian’s tiny bed, his back pressed tightly against Sebastian’s chest, and not wake up for hours. Instead he unlocks his door, focusing on turning the key and not on Sebastian.
“So just bring me back the pants on Friday,” Sebastian says suddenly and Blaine’s hands pause.
“What?” he asks, needs clarity, positive that he heard Sebastian wrong.
“Just come here on Friday, okay?” Sebastian says quickly, rocking from foot to foot. Blaine’s never seen Sebastian as anything besides completely put together and he almost wants to laugh.
“No Scandals?” Blaine asks, needing to be sure.
“My roommate always goes home over the weekend, we’d just end up back here anyway.” He shrugs his shoulder casually. “It’s just a waste of gas.”
Blaine knows that money for gas is the last thing Sebastian ever has to be concerned about, but he nods along anyway, his eyes wide. “Yeah, that works,” he says, trying to keep his hope down and the smile off his face. “I’ll text you?”
“Sure, whatever,” Sebastian says, glancing back at the dorms. “I have to get back, but drive safely, okay?” Sebastian leans down for a kiss and Blaine is already on his toes, meeting him halfway there.
“See you on Friday,” Sebastian murmurs against his lips, dragging his hand down Blaine’s side before pulling back. He slides his hands into his pocket and turns, making his way slowly across the parking lot and back to the Dalton dorms.
“Friday,” Blaine repeats, getting into his car and closing his eyes, his grip on the steering wheel so hard that his fingers begin to ache.