Глава 6.

Chapter 6
It’s loud inside Breadsticks; Sam’s election playlist (that consists mostly of different versions of “Born in the USA”) blaring through speakers that are tucked into the corner of the ceiling, everyone happy and boisterous as they offer Blaine congratulations. It’s mostly just the glee club, a couple of parents, and a few unlucky patrons who are crowded into the restaurant tonight. It should be overwhelming, every time someone comes up to him and slaps him on the back in congratulations, but Blaine finds that he can’t be anything other than excited. He won, he’s senior class president, his hard work and dedication had paid off. He feels like he’s on top of the world, his cheeks sore from smiling so hard. He tries to think of the last time he was simply this happy, assuming it will take a while for him to think back to a time when he felt like this. He shocks himself when he remembers instantly, just a few days before, when he was curled up on Sebastian’s bed.
Everyone seems to be occupied, so Blaine grabs his coat and steps outside, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He walks down the length of the sidewalk and away from the door, pressing his back against the hard wall as he thumbs through his contacts. He wants to call someone, to share his news and ramble on about everything he has planned as class president. His thumb pauses over Cooper’s name. He knows his brother will be happy for him and gladly listen as Blaine tells him all about winning the debate, but he remembers the text he got the night before from Cooper, telling Blaine that he would be in auditions all day and to wish him luck. He scrolls passed Cooper, passed H I J K L, until he stops at Sebastian’s name. He hesitates for a few seconds before hitting ‘call’. It barely rings twice.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Sebastian says as he answers the phone. Blaine grins and kicks at the sidewalk with the toe of his shoe, tracing cracks in the concrete. It settles him to hear Sebastian’s voice, his emotions all over the place after winning. He’s excited and nervous and anxious and a million different other things, but it all floats away as Sebastian speaks into his ear.
“Hey,” Blaine says softly, affectionately, even though he tries not to. “I have some good news.”
“You’re leaving that joke of a school,” Sebastian says quickly. Blaine knows he’s joking, but he swears he hears hope in Sebastian’s voice.
“Actually, it’s kind of the opposite.” He pauses, wondering how Sebastian will respond. “I ran for senior class president and won.” He’s giddy saying it, excited to share his important news with Sebastian. He wants Sebastian to be happy for him, to congratulate him, to wash away the memory of how ambivalent Kurt was when Blaine brought up the idea of running for president over the summer.
Sebastian doesn’t say anything. It can’t be more than ten seconds, but the silence seems to stretch on forever and he mentally kicks himself for even mentioning it.
“You didn’t tell me you were running,” Sebastian says finally. His voice is soft and just a little dejected and Blaine never would have guessed that this is how Sebastian was going to react. He’s not even sure how to respond, his shoulders pressed against the stucco wall and his mouth slightly open, no words coming out.
“I—I didn’t think—“ Blaine starts, unsure of how to finish, but Sebastian cuts him off.
“Well I guess I can cross ‘fuck a politician’ off my bucket list,” Sebastian says, and for some reason that makes Blaine’s stomach lurch even more. It’s an obvious out and Blaine takes it, even if he feels like a bit of a coward for it.
“I can’t even imagine what’s on your bucket list,” Blaine says, steering the conversation away from something more serious.
“Sex in public was on there, but now thanks to you…” Sebastian trails off, his voice nothing more than a deep rumble in Blaine’s ear. He remembers two weeks ago; when they were crowded into that tiny bathroom stall, Sebastian on his knees and his mouth on Blaine’s cock. Despite the cold weather Blaine feels his entire body heat up. They can’t do this now, not when Blaine has an entire restaurant full of people waiting for him.
“Sebastian,” Blaine says, almost scolding, but Sebastian only chuckles in response. “I still have to give my acceptance speech.”
“You know, phone sex is on the list, too,” Sebastian says suggestively.
“I’m hanging up now,” Blaine laughs, shaking his head. He tries to keep the hope out of his voice when he asks, “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Looking forward to it,” Sebastian says. He adds more seriously, “Congratulations, Blaine.”
They hang up and Blaine stays outside for just a few minutes longer, wondering what he’s gotten himself into, until Sam sticks his head out of the door and calls out that people are expecting him back inside.
--
Blaine stands at the foot of his bed, hands on his hips, his overnight bag out with his clothes folded neatly inside. It’s seven o’clock and he’s just gotten the text from Sebastian, roommate just left. Come over whenever. He can’t bring himself to ask if Sebastian wants him to stay the night, instead, he’s standing in the middle of his room, staring at his bag as if it has all the answers. He knows what he wants to hear; to have Sebastian tell him to pack enough clothes for two days so they can spend the entire weekend together, to bring his toothbrush and set it down on the bathroom counter, lined up right next to Sebastian’s. The thought settles warmly in his chest before he shakes his head. He knows there’s a good chance they’ll fuck and Sebastian will send him on his way, back home and away from Dalton. He can picture Sebastian’s confused face if he shows up with his overnight bag slung over his shoulder, puzzled before telling Blaine that he didn’t plan on asking him to stay the night. It’s an awful thought, makes Blaine’s stomach turn, and he quickly shoves his bag under his bed, his decision made. He grabs the sweatpants he borrowed from Sebastian and leaves his room before he can change his mind.
“I’m going over Tina’s,” Blaine call out down the hallway, his voice carrying over to his mother who’s sitting at the kitchen table, filling in a crossword puzzle.
“Have fun, dear,” she says, turning her cheek to the side for Blaine to kiss. “Will you be home tonight?”
Blaine pauses because he doesn’t know. He wants to say no, he won’t be home. He wants to go to Dalton and stay as long as Sebastian will have him. He figures it’s the safest answer, anyway. If Sebastian asks him to leave, he can always come home and tell his parents that he hadn’t been feeling well. He clings to the chance that Sebastian will ask him to stay. “No, I’m sleeping over.” He doesn’t like lying to his mother, but it’s not as if he can stay away from Sebastian.
“Alright then. Have a good night,” his mother says, her eyes cast down as her pencil scratches against the newspaper.
--
It’s strange pulling into the Dalton parking lot this time, his mind flooding with memories from the last time he was here. It was only three days ago, but between finishing his speech and winning class president, it seems like so much longer. He quickly sends Sebastian a text letting him know that he’s arrived and leans back in his seat, breathing deep and even, trying to calm his excited nerves. He won’t let himself get worked up over this, even if he wants to, downplaying the entire thing as he waits for Sebastian to text him back.
There’s a tapping on his window and Blaine jumps, his eyes snapping open as he turns to face the noise. Sebastian is smiling and laughing on the other side of the glass, his hands in his pockets as he gives Blaine a small nod. Blaine tries to catch his breath and calm his heart that’s been racing since before he even pulled into the Dalton parking lot.
“Boo,” Sebastian says as Blaine steps out of the car. Blaine smiles before he can even stop himself, his body physically reacting to being near Sebastian. His arms pull towards Sebastian as if they’re magnetized, knowing how perfectly they fit around Sebastian’s shoulders. Sebastian’s hands stay jammed in his pocket, no hint of movement, and Blaine quickly changes directions, lifting his arms above his head as he pretends to stretch after the drive. The movement is awkward and Sebastian quirks his eyebrows, smiling as Blaine’s cheeks turn red while he shrugs his shoulders.
“You want to head inside?” Blaine asks. He doesn’t want to seem too eager, but they both know the reason he’s here.
“Follow me,” Sebastian says, placing his hand low on Blaine’s back and guiding him through the parking lot. There’s no doubt that Blaine knows his way around Dalton, probably better than Sebastian does, but he doesn’t try to step away from Sebastian’s touch. It’s easy and casual, Sebastian’s hand fitting in the slope of muscle perfectly, as if this is something they do all the time. Blaine closes his eyes, just for a second, and imagines what it would be like if this was every day; if he still wore the red and navy blue, if he was here at Dalton with Sebastian, sharing classes and gossip and striped ties. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts as Sebastian opens the door for him, guiding him over to the table and chair where a student is sitting.
“Signing him in, Sebastian?” The kid asks. Blaine knows the drill from his time at Dalton and takes his license out of his wallet so the student working the sign in table can take down his information. He opens up the notebook and doesn’t write down more than a few words before looking back up. “Wait, you’re Blaine Anderson?”
Blaine’s confused as to how this boy knows his name, wondering if he should recognize him from his time at Dalton. “That’s me,” he says, remembering his manners and reaching across the table to shake the boy’s hand. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”
The boy laughs and shakes his head. “No, not at all. I’m just a freshman, but you’re like Warbler royalty. And this guy,” the kid jerks his thumb over at Sebastian, “won’t stop talking about you. I swear he’s brought you up at every practice since school started.”
“Are we done here?” Sebastian says quickly, reaching over and grabbing Blaine’s license from where it sits on the table. Blaine notices how Sebastian fumbles as he tries to pick it up, dropping the ID a few times before thrusting it into Blaine’s hands. “Here. Now let’s go.”
“It was nice meeting you,” Blaine calls over his shoulder as Sebastian leads him away. He wants to question Sebastian about what just happened; why people who never went to school with Blaine know who he is, why Sebastian brings up Blaine at every practice when he hasn’t gone to Dalton in over a year and belongs to a rival show choir. But he keeps his mouth shut, keeps his questions inside, and follows Sebastian down the hall, holding out hope that maybe Sebastian feels the same way he does.
They make their way through the halls, an easy silence between them, their hands and elbows brushing together when they step to the side to let other students pass. It feels strange to step inside Sebastian’s room without the rush to take their clothes off, labored breathing and lips everywhere. Every other time they’ve been alone together like this, it’s been because they can’t keep their hands off each other, can’t stop themselves from wanting more. But while Blaine wants Sebastian —that feeling is constant and never goes away —it’s different this time; slower, not as rushed or immediate. It’s different, but it’s nice, and Blaine finds himself wanting to get used to it, to come to Sebastian’s dorm room after school and just do homework or watch a movie.
But when Sebastian closes the door behind them and backs Blaine up against it, all thoughts of homework and movies fly away, replaced with Sebastian’s smirk as he laces their fingers together and slowly brings Blaine’s hands above his head, pressing them against the wood.
“Don’t let that go to your head,” Sebastian says, his hands gripping tighter around Blaine’s wrists as he leans down to mouth at the side of Blaine’s neck. “Hunter asked about old Warblers and your name got brought up. That’s it,” he says, as if he’s trying to convince himself.
“Whatever you say, Sebastian,” Blaine teases, his words turning into a gasp as Sebastian nips at the column of his neck. It’s only been three days since he was in this exact position, pressed along this same door, but his body is craving more. He doesn’t believe Sebastian for a second, can already recognize the small tells that convince Blaine he isn’t telling the truth—the way his eyes flick to the side, the way he tries to distract Blaine from his words by sliding their hips together. Blaine doesn’t say anything more, leaves it alone out of fear that calling Sebastian out on his lies might backfire in his face. He wants to, wants to be sure that they’re on the same page, but he can’t find the courage to spit the words out. His stomach twists and he blames it on the way Sebastian has jammed their knees together, rubbing slow circles with his hips, breathing deep and steady against Blaine’s neck.
“Let’s move this over to the bed, hmm?” Sebastian suggests, still holding Blaine’s hands high above his head. Blaine is reluctant to move away, fully enjoying how Sebastian is pinning his wrists and hips to the door. He’s barely standing; his body loose and draping against the door as Sebastian holds him in place, small whimpers leaving his mouth as Sebastian sucks tiny marks under the collar of his shirt. It feels so good and he’s not sure he can even make it over to the bed, but then Sebastian is pulling away and twisting his fingers into the front of Blaine’s polo, another arm hooking around his waist to keep him upright as he drags him over to the bed.
They fall down together, quickly arranging themselves on their sides in order to fit on the small bed. Their hands tangle as they immediately go for buttons and belts, laughing their way through it when they can’t seem to accomplish much of anything. Sebastian presses a kiss to Blaine’s mouth and Blaine focuses on how Sebastian’s teeth feel digging into his lips and not on his shaking fingers. The kiss slows everything down long enough for them to navigate their hands between their bodies, Sebastian’s fingers opening Blaine’s jeans and tugging them down just enough to slide his hand through the layer of his underwear. Blaine bucks his hips at the contact, stuttering out a breath as Sebastian wraps his fingers around Blaine’s cock.
“How do you want it?” Sebastian asks, and Blaine is amazed at how composed his voice is. Blaine feels like his insides are breaking, cracking and splitting as Sebastian moves his hand with purposeful strokes. Blaine realizes with sudden clarity that he will never tire of this, will never be done wanting Sebastian in every way possible.
“Just like this,” Blaine gasps, finally unbuttoning Sebastian’s scratchy uniform pants and shoving his hand inside. Even though he wants Sebastian inside of him, pushing and fucking and stretching him open, he doesn’t want to wait—can’t wait, not when his stomach is already clenching hotly, his brain dizzy as Sebastian runs his palm along the length of his cock. “Please, like this. Don’t stop.”
Sebastian groans and moves his hand quicker, his hips pushing up into Blaine’s fist. The angle is terrible; the bed is so small and his wrist is already starting to cramp, but it’s worth it to be this close, to have Sebastian’s chest pressed up against his own and to feel Sebastian’s warm breath catch in the dip of his neck.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Sebastian groans, tightening his grip, moving his hand the way he knows Blaine likes. Blaine buries his face in Sebastian’s neck, panting against hot skin as he quickens his pace. “So perfect. Can’t wait to fuck you,” Sebastian continues and Blaine can feel himself throb in response, his eyes slamming shut as he tries to hold out just a little bit longer, but it’s useless. Sebastian is whispering filthy words in his ear and his fist is tight and quick, pushing Blaine closer and closer to the edge.
“Are you close?” Blaine asks. He tries to move his hand the way he knows Sebastian likes, but he can’t focus on anything besides the way Sebastian’s fingers feel wrapped around him.
“Yeah,” Sebastian says. “Just keep doing that, a little tighter—yeah, yeah,” Sebastian mumbles, his voice nothing more than a growl in Blaine’s ear. It’s so fucking hot to hear Sebastian losing it, to know that he’s the one causing it. His entire body throbs as he listens to soft pants and grunts leave Sebastian’s mouth, Blaine’s name spliced in between them.
He’s close, so fucking close that he can’t even concentrate on making this good for Sebastian, even though he wants to. He wants to rock Sebastian’s world, give him the best he’s ever had every time they’re together, but he can’t think about what his own hand is doing to Sebastian’s cock when he feels like his blood is going to boil. All it takes is one extra hard pull, Sebastian’s palm sliding wetly over the head of his cock, and Blaine is coming, unconscious to everything around him. He doesn’t know if he shouts or swears or praises god, his mind completely blanking as he spills all over Sebastian’s hand.
He’s finally coming back, the fog clearing from his brain, when he feels Sebastian press a light kiss to his cheek. He looks down and sees his hand has stilled around Sebastian’s softening cock. He’s momentarily upset that he missed Sebastian come, his desperate sounds and the incredible look on his face, but Sebastian is rolling over, grabbing a box of tissues from his nightstand and cleaning them both up. He reaches across Blaine’s body, his chest pressing Blaine into the mattress and making Blaine’s breath catch, and throws the tissues in a small trashcan. He rolls back over and settles in on his side, the same position they were both in just minutes ago, and gently tucks Blaine back into his boxer briefs, not bothering to zip his pants up.
Blaine waits for Sebastian to say something, to ask him to stay or tell him to leave, but he says nothing. His eyes are closed and his breathing is even, one of his hands laying casually on the bump of Blaine’s hip. Blaine keeps still and then counts to ten before saying anything.
“Sebastian?” He asks, shifting just a bit on the bed.
“What?” Sebastian responds, his voice deep and scratchy around the edges, his eyes remaining closed.
“What are we doing?” Blaine asks and he means it in a million different ways. He holds his breath and waits.
“We’re enjoying the afterglow and you’re ruining it,” Sebastian says, but there’s a smirk on his lips that lets Blaine know he’s joking. He knows Sebastian doesn’t let his guard down very often—or at all—and his heart beats faster knowing that he’s the one who gets to see Sebastian like this.
“Do you want me to go?” Blaine asks quietly, pretending to joke but really being afraid of the answer.
“Shut up, Blaine,” Sebastian says fondly, tugging Blaine closer until their chests are tucked together. “You’re helping me with my history paper after this.”
--
Blaine ends up back in Sebastian’s sweatpants, the material hanging low on his waist as he settles in next to him, both of them on their stomachs and with their thighs and hips pressed together as they open Sebastian’s history book in front of them. Sebastian explains the essay to him and it seems pretty straight forward, but he knows how much more difficult the grading curve is at Dalton as opposed to McKinley.
“Do you have a notebook I could take down some notes in?” Blaine asks, eyes scanning the page of the book in front of them, picking out important names and dates.
“Who still writes notes on paper? Don’t you use a laptop?” Sebastian asks. He dressed down too, finally out of his uniform, wearing a pair of loose basketball shorts and a deep green henley. Blaine has never seen him like this before and he looks almost vulnerable without the protection of his Dalton blazer.
Blaine shrugs. “I hate the clicking sound of a keyboard,” he says, watching as Sebastian rolls his eyes. “And I feel like I remember things better when I write them down.”
“Only you, Blaine,” Sebastian says, but it’s said with such fondness, like Sebastian is happy to know these little quirks, that it makes Blaine flush.
Sebastian rolls off of his stomach and reaches down underneath his bed, pulling out his book bag and looking for a notebook for Blaine. It hits Blaine suddenly that this is how it could have always been, if he had never transferred, if he had stayed at Dalton. He could be curled up on Sebastian’s bed every night, taking notes or studying for a test or talking about what happened during Warbler practice. He would know which drawers Sebastian keeps his spare ties in and which side of the bed he prefers to sleep on.
He’s knocked out of his thoughts when Sebastian tosses the notebook across the bed, hitting Blaine in the shoulder.
“Don’t get ink on my sheets,” Sebastian says, settling back down on his stomach. He has a notebook of his own and Blaine quirks on eyebrow at him. “What? I don’t want to annoy your delicate sensibilities with the horrifying sound of a keyboard.”
They work quietly for almost an hour, taking down notes and piecing Sebastian’s essay together. It’s domestic in a way that Blaine craves from Sebastian, happy down to his bones knowing that they can do more than just fuck. He’s about to turn the page of his notebook when Sebastian snatches it away and drops everything from the bed onto the floor.
“I’m bored,” he sighs, turning over onto his back and stretching his arms over his head, pillowing them under the back of his neck. Blaine is ready for Sebastian to initiate something, a not so subtle hand on the front of his pants or a comment about getting him on all fours. It never comes, and instead Sebastian asks, “What are you doing when you graduate?”
Blaine’s caught completely off guard. No one has asked him about his plans after high school. His parents assume he has it under control and he’s yet to be called into Miss Pillsbury’s office to talk about colleges and universities. The fact that Sebastian is the first person to ask him without any bullshit attached makes his vision go blurry.
“I’m not sure, exactly,” he answers honestly. He doesn’t know if that’s the right move, if Sebastian even cares about his college plans or if he’s just making small talk before asking Blaine to fuck. He continues anyway. “The plan was always for me to go to New York with—“
Sebastian cuts him off with a scoff, rolling his eyes. “You’re so much better than that, Blaine,” he says, not looking at Blaine, his eyes glued up at the ceiling instead. “If you want to go to school in New York, it should be your choice, not because of anyone else.”
It’s hard to hear—of course it is. Because going to New York with Kurt had been Blaine’s plan for almost a year. They had everything planned, down to what corner their Starbucks would be on and the wallpaper pattern of their first apartment together. But things have changed. Blaine’s not naive enough to think that those plans will still happen, and he’s shocked when he realizes he doesn’t really want them to. He still wants to go to New York, to go to school in his favorite city in the world and live out his dream of preforming on Broadway, but it won’t happen with Kurt by his side. He’ll do it on his own, he knows he can, and he won’t let the thought of someone else keep him from accomplishing everything he wants.
“They have great schools in Boston, you know,” Sebastian says and it startles Blaine from his thoughts. Blaine’s eyebrows draw together, unsure about where this is coming from.
“I’m sure they do,” he says, his voice rising at the end as if it’s a question.
“That’s where I’m going,” Sebastian clarifies. “Harvard. I’m going to study medicine. My dad was pushing for law,” he pauses to deepen his voice. “Smythe men are lawyers,” he says, mimicking his father. “But I couldn’t be less interested in it.”
“That’s amazing, Sebastian,” Blaine says. “I had no idea you wanted to be a doctor.”
Sebastian turns his head to the side until he’s looking at Blaine, an easy smile sliding over his face. “Well, we don’t really do a lot of talking when we’re together, now do we?”
Blaine blushes, but knows it’s true.
“Anyway,” Sebastian continues, as if he’s uninterested. “Berklee is better than any school is New York if you want to go for music.”
Blaine’s pulse pounds in his ears as he listens to Sebastian. He needs clarity, can’t read into this and make it something it’s not. “You want me in Boston?” Blaine asks, his voice barely above a whisper. That can’t be what Sebastian’s implying, there’s no way.
“I didn’t say that,” Sebastian says quickly, turning away from Blaine and back to staring at the ceiling. “This is all information you should have gotten from a half-wit guidance counselor at that public school of yours.”
His reaction is immediate and harsh and Blaine can see right through it. He smiles to himself and nods, biting at his lip. “I think Boston is only a three hour train ride from New York, anyway.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Sebastian grumbles, clearly agitated. He crosses his arms over his chest and doesn’t look away from the ceiling.
Blaine stretches across Sebastian’s body, laughing at Sebastian’s huff of annoyance, reaching for his phone to check the time. “We should get some sleep,” he says, staying pressed against Sebastian’s chest for a moment longer than is necessary, before settling back in to his side of the bed. “I don’t think these walls have gotten any thicker since I’ve been here and I remember rooming next to a kid who liked to sing scales at six am.” Blaine doesn’t think Sebastian ever met Wes.
“Yeah, okay,” Sebastian says, reaching over to turn the lamp on his nightstand off. “Besides, I’ve got plans for you tomorrow.”
Blaine doesn’t question him, doesn’t ask how long Sebastian has been thinking about the two of them spending the night together. Instead he pulls back the covers and slides under the blankets, his mind racing with possibilities for tomorrow. The room is dark and Blaine expects Sebastian to start touching him, waits for his palm to skim down the front of his chest and slip under the waist of his sweatpants. But it never comes. The only touch Sebastian gives Blaine is a push to his shoulder, until Blaine gets the hint and rolls over on his side. Sebastian is behind him immediately, his chest pressed along Blaine’s back, a hand tucked around Blaine’s waist, their knees and hips lined up together perfectly.
Sebastian’s breath is even and Blaine can feel it against his back each time he takes a deep breath in. His chin is tucked over Blaine’s shoulder, his cheek pressed to Blaine’s neck. He traces his fingers in abstract patterns over Blaine’s stomach, never dipping lower than his belly button. There’s nothing sexual about the way Sebastian moves; it’s soothing, intimate, relaxing, and it’s what lulls Blaine to sleep, staying awake just long enough to feel Sebastian’s fingers leave his stomach and find his hand instead, lacing their fingers together as they drift off to sleep.

Chapter 6
It’s loud inside Breadsticks; Sam’s election playlist (that consists mostly of different versions of “Born in the USA”) blaring through speakers that are tucked into the corner of the ceiling, everyone happy and boisterous as they offer Blaine congratulations. It’s mostly just the glee club, a couple of parents, and a few unlucky patrons who are crowded into the restaurant tonight. It should be overwhelming, every time someone comes up to him and slaps him on the back in congratulations, but Blaine finds that he can’t be anything other than excited. He won, he’s senior class president, his hard work and dedication had paid off. He feels like he’s on top of the world, his cheeks sore from smiling so hard. He tries to think of the last time he was simply this happy, assuming it will take a while for him to think back to a time when he felt like this. He shocks himself when he remembers instantly, just a few days before, when he was curled up on Sebastian’s bed.
Everyone seems to be occupied, so Blaine grabs his coat and steps outside, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He walks down the length of the sidewalk and away from the door, pressing his back against the hard wall as he thumbs through his contacts. He wants to call someone, to share his news and ramble on about everything he has planned as class president. His thumb pauses over Cooper’s name. He knows his brother will be happy for him and gladly listen as Blaine tells him all about winning the debate, but he remembers the text he got the night before from Cooper, telling Blaine that he would be in auditions all day and to wish him luck. He scrolls passed Cooper, passed H I J K L, until he stops at Sebastian’s name. He hesitates for a few seconds before hitting ‘call’. It barely rings twice.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Sebastian says as he answers the phone. Blaine grins and kicks at the sidewalk with the toe of his shoe, tracing cracks in the concrete. It settles him to hear Sebastian’s voice, his emotions all over the place after winning. He’s excited and nervous and anxious and a million different other things, but it all floats away as Sebastian speaks into his ear.
“Hey,” Blaine says softly, affectionately, even though he tries not to. “I have some good news.”
“You’re leaving that joke of a school,” Sebastian says quickly. Blaine knows he’s joking, but he swears he hears hope in Sebastian’s voice.
“Actually, it’s kind of the opposite.” He pauses, wondering how Sebastian will respond. “I ran for senior class president and won.” He’s giddy saying it, excited to share his important news with Sebastian. He wants Sebastian to be happy for him, to congratulate him, to wash away the memory of how ambivalent Kurt was when Blaine brought up the idea of running for president over the summer.
Sebastian doesn’t say anything. It can’t be more than ten seconds, but the silence seems to stretch on forever and he mentally kicks himself for even mentioning it.
“You didn’t tell me you were running,” Sebastian says finally. His voice is soft and just a little dejected and Blaine never would have guessed that this is how Sebastian was going to react. He’s not even sure how to respond, his shoulders pressed against the stucco wall and his mouth slightly open, no words coming out.
“I—I didn’t think—“ Blaine starts, unsure of how to finish, but Sebastian cuts him off.
“Well I guess I can cross ‘fuck a politician’ off my bucket list,” Sebastian says, and for some reason that makes Blaine’s stomach lurch even more. It’s an obvious out and Blaine takes it, even if he feels like a bit of a coward for it.
“I can’t even imagine what’s on your bucket list,” Blaine says, steering the conversation away from something more serious.
“Sex in public was on there, but now thanks to you…” Sebastian trails off, his voice nothing more than a deep rumble in Blaine’s ear. He remembers two weeks ago; when they were crowded into that tiny bathroom stall, Sebastian on his knees and his mouth on Blaine’s cock. Despite the cold weather Blaine feels his entire body heat up. They can’t do this now, not when Blaine has an entire restaurant full of people waiting for him.
“Sebastian,” Blaine says, almost scolding, but Sebastian only chuckles in response. “I still have to give my acceptance speech.”
“You know, phone sex is on the list, too,” Sebastian says suggestively.
“I’m hanging up now,” Blaine laughs, shaking his head. He tries to keep the hope out of his voice when he asks, “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Looking forward to it,” Sebastian says. He adds more seriously, “Congratulations, Blaine.”
They hang up and Blaine stays outside for just a few minutes longer, wondering what he’s gotten himself into, until Sam sticks his head out of the door and calls out that people are expecting him back inside.
--
Blaine stands at the foot of his bed, hands on his hips, his overnight bag out with his clothes folded neatly inside. It’s seven o’clock and he’s just gotten the text from Sebastian, roommate just left. Come over whenever. He can’t bring himself to ask if Sebastian wants him to stay the night, instead, he’s standing in the middle of his room, staring at his bag as if it has all the answers. He knows what he wants to hear; to have Sebastian tell him to pack enough clothes for two days so they can spend the entire weekend together, to bring his toothbrush and set it down on the bathroom counter, lined up right next to Sebastian’s. The thought settles warmly in his chest before he shakes his head. He knows there’s a good chance they’ll fuck and Sebastian will send him on his way, back home and away from Dalton. He can picture Sebastian’s confused face if he shows up with his overnight bag slung over his shoulder, puzzled before telling Blaine that he didn’t plan on asking him to stay the night. It’s an awful thought, makes Blaine’s stomach turn, and he quickly shoves his bag under his bed, his decision made. He grabs the sweatpants he borrowed from Sebastian and leaves his room before he can change his mind.
“I’m going over Tina’s,” Blaine call out down the hallway, his voice carrying over to his mother who’s sitting at the kitchen table, filling in a crossword puzzle.
“Have fun, dear,” she says, turning her cheek to the side for Blaine to kiss. “Will you be home tonight?”
Blaine pauses because he doesn’t know. He wants to say no, he won’t be home. He wants to go to Dalton and stay as long as Sebastian will have him. He figures it’s the safest answer, anyway. If Sebastian asks him to leave, he can always come home and tell his parents that he hadn’t been feeling well. He clings to the chance that Sebastian will ask him to stay. “No, I’m sleeping over.” He doesn’t like lying to his mother, but it’s not as if he can stay away from Sebastian.
“Alright then. Have a good night,” his mother says, her eyes cast down as her pencil scratches against the newspaper.
--
It’s strange pulling into the Dalton parking lot this time, his mind flooding with memories from the last time he was here. It was only three days ago, but between finishing his speech and winning class president, it seems like so much longer. He quickly sends Sebastian a text letting him know that he’s arrived and leans back in his seat, breathing deep and even, trying to calm his excited nerves. He won’t let himself get worked up over this, even if he wants to, downplaying the entire thing as he waits for Sebastian to text him back.
There’s a tapping on his window and Blaine jumps, his eyes snapping open as he turns to face the noise. Sebastian is smiling and laughing on the other side of the glass, his hands in his pockets as he gives Blaine a small nod. Blaine tries to catch his breath and calm his heart that’s been racing since before he even pulled into the Dalton parking lot.
“Boo,” Sebastian says as Blaine steps out of the car. Blaine smiles before he can even stop himself, his body physically reacting to being near Sebastian. His arms pull towards Sebastian as if they’re magnetized, knowing how perfectly they fit around Sebastian’s shoulders. Sebastian’s hands stay jammed in his pocket, no hint of movement, and Blaine quickly changes directions, lifting his arms above his head as he pretends to stretch after the drive. The movement is awkward and Sebastian quirks his eyebrows, smiling as Blaine’s cheeks turn red while he shrugs his shoulders.
“You want to head inside?” Blaine asks. He doesn’t want to seem too eager, but they both know the reason he’s here.
“Follow me,” Sebastian says, placing his hand low on Blaine’s back and guiding him through the parking lot. There’s no doubt that Blaine knows his way around Dalton, probably better than Sebastian does, but he doesn’t try to step away from Sebastian’s touch. It’s easy and casual, Sebastian’s hand fitting in the slope of muscle perfectly, as if this is something they do all the time. Blaine closes his eyes, just for a second, and imagines what it would be like if this was every day; if he still wore the red and navy blue, if he was here at Dalton with Sebastian, sharing classes and gossip and striped ties. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts as Sebastian opens the door for him, guiding him over to the table and chair where a student is sitting.
“Signing him in, Sebastian?” The kid asks. Blaine knows the drill from his time at Dalton and takes his license out of his wallet so the student working the sign in table can take down his information. He opens up the notebook and doesn’t write down more than a few words before looking back up. “Wait, you’re Blaine Anderson?”
Blaine’s confused as to how this boy knows his name, wondering if he should recognize him from his time at Dalton. “That’s me,” he says, remembering his manners and reaching across the table to shake the boy’s hand. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”
The boy laughs and shakes his head. “No, not at all. I’m just a freshman, but you’re like Warbler royalty. And this guy,” the kid jerks his thumb over at Sebastian, “won’t stop talking about you. I swear he’s brought you up at every practice since school started.”
“Are we done here?” Sebastian says quickly, reaching over and grabbing Blaine’s license from where it sits on the table. Blaine notices how Sebastian fumbles as he tries to pick it up, dropping the ID a few times before thrusting it into Blaine’s hands. “Here. Now let’s go.”
“It was nice meeting you,” Blaine calls over his shoulder as Sebastian leads him away. He wants to question Sebastian about what just happened; why people who never went to school with Blaine know who he is, why Sebastian brings up Blaine at every practice when he hasn’t gone to Dalton in over a year and belongs to a rival show choir. But he keeps his mouth shut, keeps his questions inside, and follows Sebastian down the hall, holding out hope that maybe Sebastian feels the same way he does.
They make their way through the halls, an easy silence between them, their hands and elbows brushing together when they step to the side to let other students pass. It feels strange to step inside Sebastian’s room without the rush to take their clothes off, labored breathing and lips everywhere. Every other time they’ve been alone together like this, it’s been because they can’t keep their hands off each other, can’t stop themselves from wanting more. But while Blaine wants Sebastian —that feeling is constant and never goes away —it’s different this time; slower, not as rushed or immediate. It’s different, but it’s nice, and Blaine finds himself wanting to get used to it, to come to Sebastian’s dorm room after school and just do homework or watch a movie.
But when Sebastian closes the door behind them and backs Blaine up against it, all thoughts of homework and movies fly away, replaced with Sebastian’s smirk as he laces their fingers together and slowly brings Blaine’s hands above his head, pressing them against the wood.
“Don’t let that go to your head,” Sebastian says, his hands gripping tighter around Blaine’s wrists as he leans down to mouth at the side of Blaine’s neck. “Hunter asked about old Warblers and your name got brought up. That’s it,” he says, as if he’s trying to convince himself.
“Whatever you say, Sebastian,” Blaine teases, his words turning into a gasp as Sebastian nips at the column of his neck. It’s only been three days since he was in this exact position, pressed along this same door, but his body is craving more. He doesn’t believe Sebastian for a second, can already recognize the small tells that convince Blaine he isn’t telling the truth—the way his eyes flick to the side, the way he tries to distract Blaine from his words by sliding their hips together. Blaine doesn’t say anything more, leaves it alone out of fear that calling Sebastian out on his lies might backfire in his face. He wants to, wants to be sure that they’re on the same page, but he can’t find the courage to spit the words out. His stomach twists and he blames it on the way Sebastian has jammed their knees together, rubbing slow circles with his hips, breathing deep and steady against Blaine’s neck.
“Let’s move this over to the bed, hmm?” Sebastian suggests, still holding Blaine’s hands high above his head. Blaine is reluctant to move away, fully enjoying how Sebastian is pinning his wrists and hips to the door. He’s barely standing; his body loose and draping against the door as Sebastian holds him in place, small whimpers leaving his mouth as Sebastian sucks tiny marks under the collar of his shirt. It feels so good and he’s not sure he can even make it over to the bed, but then Sebastian is pulling away and twisting his fingers into the front of Blaine’s polo, another arm hooking around his waist to keep him upright as he drags him over to the bed.
They fall down together, quickly arranging themselves on their sides in order to fit on the small bed. Their hands tangle as they immediately go for buttons and belts, laughing their way through it when they can’t seem to accomplish much of anything. Sebastian presses a kiss to Blaine’s mouth and Blaine focuses on how Sebastian’s teeth feel digging into his lips and not on his shaking fingers. The kiss slows everything down long enough for them to navigate their hands between their bodies, Sebastian’s fingers opening Blaine’s jeans and tugging them down just enough to slide his hand through the layer of his underwear. Blaine bucks his hips at the contact, stuttering out a breath as Sebastian wraps his fingers around Blaine’s cock.
“How do you want it?” Sebastian asks, and Blaine is amazed at how composed his voice is. Blaine feels like his insides are breaking, cracking and splitting as Sebastian moves his hand with purposeful strokes. Blaine realizes with sudden clarity that he will never tire of this, will never be done wanting Sebastian in every way possible.
“Just like this,” Blaine gasps, finally unbuttoning Sebastian’s scratchy uniform pants and shoving his hand inside. Even though he wants Sebastian inside of him, pushing and fucking and stretching him open, he doesn’t want to wait—can’t wait, not when his stomach is already clenching hotly, his brain dizzy as Sebastian runs his palm along the length of his cock. “Please, like this. Don’t stop.”
Sebastian groans and moves his hand quicker, his hips pushing up into Blaine’s fist. The angle is terrible; the bed is so small and his wrist is already starting to cramp, but it’s worth it to be this close, to have Sebastian’s chest pressed up against his own and to feel Sebastian’s warm breath catch in the dip of his neck.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Sebastian groans, tightening his grip, moving his hand the way he knows Blaine likes. Blaine buries his face in Sebastian’s neck, panting against hot skin as he quickens his pace. “So perfect. Can’t wait to fuck you,” Sebastian continues and Blaine can feel himself throb in response, his eyes slamming shut as he tries to hold out just a little bit longer, but it’s useless. Sebastian is whispering filthy words in his ear and his fist is tight and quick, pushing Blaine closer and closer to the edge.
“Are you close?” Blaine asks. He tries to move his hand the way he knows Sebastian likes, but he can’t focus on anything besides the way Sebastian’s fingers feel wrapped around him.
“Yeah,” Sebastian says. “Just keep doing that, a little tighter—yeah, yeah,” Sebastian mumbles, his voice nothing more than a growl in Blaine’s ear. It’s so fucking hot to hear Sebastian losing it, to know that he’s the one causing it. His entire body throbs as he listens to soft pants and grunts leave Sebastian’s mouth, Blaine’s name spliced in between them.
He’s close, so fucking close that he can’t even concentrate on making this good for Sebastian, even though he wants to. He wants to rock Sebastian’s world, give him the best he’s ever had every time they’re together, but he can’t think about what his own hand is doing to Sebastian’s cock when he feels like his blood is going to boil. All it takes is one extra hard pull, Sebastian’s palm sliding wetly over the head of his cock, and Blaine is coming, unconscious to everything around him. He doesn’t know if he shouts or swears or praises god, his mind completely blanking as he spills all over Sebastian’s hand.
He’s finally coming back, the fog clearing from his brain, when he feels Sebastian press a light kiss to his cheek. He looks down and sees his hand has stilled around Sebastian’s softening cock. He’s momentarily upset that he missed Sebastian come, his desperate sounds and the incredible look on his face, but Sebastian is rolling over, grabbing a box of tissues from his nightstand and cleaning them both up. He reaches across Blaine’s body, his chest pressing Blaine into the mattress and making Blaine’s breath catch, and throws the tissues in a small trashcan. He rolls back over and settles in on his side, the same position they were both in just minutes ago, and gently tucks Blaine back into his boxer briefs, not bothering to zip his pants up.
Blaine waits for Sebastian to say something, to ask him to stay or tell him to leave, but he says nothing. His eyes are closed and his breathing is even, one of his hands laying casually on the bump of Blaine’s hip. Blaine keeps still and then counts to ten before saying anything.
“Sebastian?” He asks, shifting just a bit on the bed.
“What?” Sebastian responds, his voice deep and scratchy around the edges, his eyes remaining closed.
“What are we doing?” Blaine asks and he means it in a million different ways. He holds his breath and waits.
“We’re enjoying the afterglow and you’re ruining it,” Sebastian says, but there’s a smirk on his lips that lets Blaine know he’s joking. He knows Sebastian doesn’t let his guard down very often—or at all—and his heart beats faster knowing that he’s the one who gets to see Sebastian like this.
“Do you want me to go?” Blaine asks quietly, pretending to joke but really being afraid of the answer.
“Shut up, Blaine,” Sebastian says fondly, tugging Blaine closer until their chests are tucked together. “You’re helping me with my history paper after this.”
--
Blaine ends up back in Sebastian’s sweatpants, the material hanging low on his waist as he settles in next to him, both of them on their stomachs and with their thighs and hips pressed together as they open Sebastian’s history book in front of them. Sebastian explains the essay to him and it seems pretty straight forward, but he knows how much more difficult the grading curve is at Dalton as opposed to McKinley.
“Do you have a notebook I could take down some notes in?” Blaine asks, eyes scanning the page of the book in front of them, picking out important names and dates.
“Who still writes notes on paper? Don’t you use a laptop?” Sebastian asks. He dressed down too, finally out of his uniform, wearing a pair of loose basketball shorts and a deep green henley. Blaine has never seen him like this before and he looks almost vulnerable without the protection of his Dalton blazer.
Blaine shrugs. “I hate the clicking sound of a keyboard,” he says, watching as Sebastian rolls his eyes. “And I feel like I remember things better when I write them down.”
“Only you, Blaine,” Sebastian says, but it’s said with such fondness, like Sebastian is happy to know these little quirks, that it makes Blaine flush.
Sebastian rolls off of his stomach and reaches down underneath his bed, pulling out his book bag and looking for a notebook for Blaine. It hits Blaine suddenly that this is how it could have always been, if he had never transferred, if he had stayed at Dalton. He could be curled up on Sebastian’s bed every night, taking notes or studying for a test or talking about what happened during Warbler practice. He would know which drawers Sebastian keeps his spare ties in and which side of the bed he prefers to sleep on.
He’s knocked out of his thoughts when Sebastian tosses the notebook across the bed, hitting Blaine in the shoulder.
“Don’t get ink on my sheets,” Sebastian says, settling back down on his stomach. He has a notebook of his own and Blaine quirks on eyebrow at him. “What? I don’t want to annoy your delicate sensibilities with the horrifying sound of a keyboard.”
They work quietly for almost an hour, taking down notes and piecing Sebastian’s essay together. It’s domestic in a way that Blaine craves from Sebastian, happy down to his bones knowing that they can do more than just fuck. He’s about to turn the page of his notebook when Sebastian snatches it away and drops everything from the bed onto the floor.
“I’m bored,” he sighs, turning over onto his back and stretching his arms over his head, pillowing them under the back of his neck. Blaine is ready for Sebastian to initiate something, a not so subtle hand on the front of his pants or a comment about getting him on all fours. It never comes, and instead Sebastian asks, “What are you doing when you graduate?”
Blaine’s caught completely off guard. No one has asked him about his plans after high school. His parents assume he has it under control and he’s yet to be called into Miss Pillsbury’s office to talk about colleges and universities. The fact that Sebastian is the first person to ask him without any bullshit attached makes his vision go blurry.
“I’m not sure, exactly,” he answers honestly. He doesn’t know if that’s the right move, if Sebastian even cares about his college plans or if he’s just making small talk before asking Blaine to fuck. He continues anyway. “The plan was always for me to go to New York with—“
Sebastian cuts him off with a scoff, rolling his eyes. “You’re so much better than that, Blaine,” he says, not looking at Blaine, his eyes glued up at the ceiling instead. “If you want to go to school in New York, it should be your choice, not because of anyone else.”
It’s hard to hear—of course it is. Because going to New York with Kurt had been Blaine’s plan for almost a year. They had everything planned, down to what corner their Starbucks would be on and the wallpaper pattern of their first apartment together. But things have changed. Blaine’s not naive enough to think that those plans will still happen, and he’s shocked when he realizes he doesn’t really want them to. He still wants to go to New York, to go to school in his favorite city in the world and live out his dream of preforming on Broadway, but it won’t happen with Kurt by his side. He’ll do it on his own, he knows he can, and he won’t let the thought of someone else keep him from accomplishing everything he wants.
“They have great schools in Boston, you know,” Sebastian says and it startles Blaine from his thoughts. Blaine’s eyebrows draw together, unsure about where this is coming from.
“I’m sure they do,” he says, his voice rising at the end as if it’s a question.
“That’s where I’m going,” Sebastian clarifies. “Harvard. I’m going to study medicine. My dad was pushing for law,” he pauses to deepen his voice. “Smythe men are lawyers,” he says, mimicking his father. “But I couldn’t be less interested in it.”
“That’s amazing, Sebastian,” Blaine says. “I had no idea you wanted to be a doctor.”
Sebastian turns his head to the side until he’s looking at Blaine, an easy smile sliding over his face. “Well, we don’t really do a lot of talking when we’re together, now do we?”
Blaine blushes, but knows it’s true.
“Anyway,” Sebastian continues, as if he’s uninterested. “Berklee is better than any school is New York if you want to go for music.”
Blaine’s pulse pounds in his ears as he listens to Sebastian. He needs clarity, can’t read into this and make it something it’s not. “You want me in Boston?” Blaine asks, his voice barely above a whisper. That can’t be what Sebastian’s implying, there’s no way.
“I didn’t say that,” Sebastian says quickly, turning away from Blaine and back to staring at the ceiling. “This is all information you should have gotten from a half-wit guidance counselor at that public school of yours.”
His reaction is immediate and harsh and Blaine can see right through it. He smiles to himself and nods, biting at his lip. “I think Boston is only a three hour train ride from New York, anyway.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Sebastian grumbles, clearly agitated. He crosses his arms over his chest and doesn’t look away from the ceiling.
Blaine stretches across Sebastian’s body, laughing at Sebastian’s huff of annoyance, reaching for his phone to check the time. “We should get some sleep,” he says, staying pressed against Sebastian’s chest for a moment longer than is necessary, before settling back in to his side of the bed. “I don’t think these walls have gotten any thicker since I’ve been here and I remember rooming next to a kid who liked to sing scales at six am.” Blaine doesn’t think Sebastian ever met Wes.
“Yeah, okay,” Sebastian says, reaching over to turn the lamp on his nightstand off. “Besides, I’ve got plans for you tomorrow.”
Blaine doesn’t question him, doesn’t ask how long Sebastian has been thinking about the two of them spending the night together. Instead he pulls back the covers and slides under the blankets, his mind racing with possibilities for tomorrow. The room is dark and Blaine expects Sebastian to start touching him, waits for his palm to skim down the front of his chest and slip under the waist of his sweatpants. But it never comes. The only touch Sebastian gives Blaine is a push to his shoulder, until Blaine gets the hint and rolls over on his side. Sebastian is behind him immediately, his chest pressed along Blaine’s back, a hand tucked around Blaine’s waist, their knees and hips lined up together perfectly.
Sebastian’s breath is even and Blaine can feel it against his back each time he takes a deep breath in. His chin is tucked over Blaine’s shoulder, his cheek pressed to Blaine’s neck. He traces his fingers in abstract patterns over Blaine’s stomach, never dipping lower than his belly button. There’s nothing sexual about the way Sebastian moves; it’s soothing, intimate, relaxing, and it’s what lulls Blaine to sleep, staying awake just long enough to feel Sebastian’s fingers leave his stomach and find his hand instead, lacing their fingers together as they drift off to sleep.
@темы: Fanfiction