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Blaine was running late.
He’d been held back talking to his Chemistry teacher about their homework assignment, counting down minutes in the back of his head as the impending realization that he was going to be late, again, clouded in over his head. As good as they’d gotten at playing it off, he knew the Warblers were edging from fond exasperation at his ability to be on time for their performances into just plain old exasperation.
It really wasn’t his fault this time.
The rush of boys hurrying between classes drowned out the click of his shoes on the stairs as he slipped through groups, apologizing as he went as he dug into his pocket for his watch, ducking his head and letting out a sigh of relief when he realized he wasn’t going to be too late at least, he was already at the bottom of the stairs and he just needed to -
“- Excuse me, can I ask you a question?”
- Blaine swiped a thumb absently across the face of his grandfather’s pocket watch, turning back at the voice that called out to him and craning his neck up and up, smiling into the face of a stranger with the greenest eyes he’d ever seen and freezing. For a moment he could have sworn he could hear the ticking of his watch, the constant roar of the boys ducking past and around them dimming as his eyes caught on an amused, slow smile. The heat of a blush spread up the back of his neck, warming his ears and making him hesitate for just a moment as he blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “Are you a freshman?”
The boy on the staircase smirked back at him, eyebrows raised just so as he descended the steps between them, something about the pointed drag of his eyes up from Blaine’s feet setting his skin buzzing. “Do I look like a freshman?”
The stuttered laugh that escaped his lips was so unlike him (so unlike Dalton him) that Blaine almost didn’t know what to say, his eyes wide with surprise for just a moment before the pocket watch in his hands snapped shut and he snapped out of it. The boy in front of him grinned a little wider, the unsubtle dip of his eyes drawing another wave of heat up the back of Blaine’s neck before he elaborated, “Sebastian Smythe. I’m new here.”
Blaine blinked, reaching for the hand he was offered on autopilot as he replied, “Blaine Anderson,” taking in the lack of uniform with a sudden sneaking suspicion sliding in beneath the warmth that filled his chest when Sebastian’s hand lingered, fingers dragging lightly across the back of his hand.
“I was wondering if you could tell me what everyone is in such a rush to get to,” Sebastian continued, craning his neck around to follow another group as they hurried past.
“The Warblers,” Blaine replied immediately, the niggling suspicion confirmed at the casual expression of curiosity on Sebastian’s face, a smile spreading wide across his face as an idea started to grow in the back of his mind. “Every now and then they throw an impromptu performance in the Senior Commons. It tends to shut the school down.”
“Really?” Sebastian replied, “They must be good then, huh?”
“Are you kidding me? The Warblers are like rockstars,” Blaine replied, biting back the grin that threatened to spill across his face as he registered the interest on Sebastian’s face before his eyes dropped to where the other boy still hadn’t released his hand. Warmth spread across his cheeks as he tugged lightly at the hand still wrapped around his, lips twitching at the corner as he said, “Come on, I know a shortcut.”
–
Sebastian really should have known better.
The moment the guy batted those ridiculously long eyelashes at him, staring up at him with big hazel eyes, he should have known he’d been made. Not that he’d put any actual effort into this whole spying gig. Any excuse to ditch out of what was sure to be a riveting debate over which female pop artist the male contingent of the New Directions could pull off singing without appearing ‘too gay’ was going to be a welcome one (his answer of too late hadn’t gone down overly well) – but now that his golden ticket out of McKinley for a few hours also came with a free view, well, maybe he should have invested a little more effort into skipping under the radar.
Blaine stepped away from him into the settling crowd of the Senior Commons, grinning as he patted Sebastian’s arm lightly as saying, “If you’ll excuse me,” sliding his satchel off his shoulder and handing it off to one of the boys milling off to the side. Sebastian’s eyebrows inched upwards, the bemused expression on his face shifting to amusement as Blaine easily settled into the formation of Warblers; front and center with a broad cocky smile on his face.
He really should have known better.
–
“Okay, Rockstar,” Sebastian acknowledged, tipping his head to the side in amusement as the Senior Commons started to clear out and Blaine approached him again, this time flanked by two other Warblers, “Are we going to start with the thumbscrews or the waterboarding?”
Blaine blinked up at him, clearly caught off-guard by the laugh that escaped his lips and shaking his head in amusement, “How about we start with coffee instead?”
–
“We get a couple of spies every year,” Blaine informed him as he slid a coffee cup across the table towards him, lips twitching in a smile as his eyes darted up to meet Sebastian’s before dropping again. “Usually from Carmel. Though I’m guessing that isn’t where you’re from.”
“McKinley,” Sebastian confirmed with amusement, perhaps a little too preoccupied with how pink Blaine’s lips were from the heat of his coffee – his eyes glued to the glimpse of Blaine’s tongue as it dipped out across his lower lip, before he shifted back in his seat, “Do you ask all your spies out for coffee? Because I might have a few ideas as to why they keep on coming back.”
The soft huff of laughter from across the table was only encouragement, Sebastian shifting in his seat as he eyed Blaine curiously. The boy in front of him was a walking contradiction; equal parts bashful schoolboy and self-professed rockstar, and it had been far too long since Sebastian had been allowed to flirt without reserve. McKinley was a dry well when it came to viable options unless he was looking to make Puckerman uncomfortable.
“You didn’t seem all that committed to the cause,” Blaine replied, his smile bright and amused as he glanced back over his shoulder to where two of his fellow warblers had settled down a few tables away. “It kind of made me wonder if there was another reason you came.”
“You’re right,” Sebastian agreed, lips curling at the corner as he leant into the table, resting his elbows against the edge and eyeing Blaine with interest. “I saw this guy with a great ass running down the stairs and I wanted to ask him out for coffee, but he beat me to it, so I thought I’d ask for his number instead.”
The blush that spread across Blaine’s cheeks was entirely too endearing, Sebastian watching as ducked his chin almost shyly, digging into his pocket and resurfacing with his phone in hand.
This was almost too easy.
–
The story as it stands began like this: following an entirely unwarranted extradition from his Parisian lifestyle, Sebastian’s father (in a move that Sebastian still wasn’t sure hadn’t been some terribly misguided joke) enrolled Sebastian at William McKinley High School (Home of the Titans!) under the very mistaken impression that public school might somehow teach his wayward son a little bit of humility.
Sebastian was almost entirely sure that the joke (if it really was one) was on his father: everybody knew that public school and learning were mutually exclusive terms.
–
McKinley was very much a dog eat dog world (something which often came to Sebastian’s mind when confronted with the cafeterias more .. inventive lunches); an experiment in Darwinism at it’s purest. Those smart enough (or vicious enough) would find a way to survive, while the lesser beings sunk to the bottom of the food chain. That was just the way it was.
And thankfully, despite certain realities, Sebastian was plenty smart and vicious enough to get by with relative ease. Sure, the meatheads that dominated most of the sports teams would never exactly be his bros (thank god) but they also, for the most part, knew better than to mess with him.
For the most part.
There was always a certain amount of risk involved in being an out gay teenager at a public school in Nowheresville, Ohio; however vicious you might happen to be. Sebastian had mostly avoided those risks through some very calculated decisions of his own.
Like blackmailing Puckerman into dumpster tossing the one and only hockey player who’d thought it was a good idea to try and slushy him.
But now that he was faced with a pair of standard Dalton issue slacks he was dying to find his way into, he was getting distracted.
And as far as McKinley was concerned, distracted was a good way to get yourself thrown off the social ladder and dumped at the bottom.
Which had to explain how he hadn’t seen this coming.
His shoulder was aching, the impact having shuddered up through his spine and he’s sure that he’ll find a nasty bruise later that night, but he suspected that the only real damage had been done to his ego. And possibly his phone.
Narrowing his eyes in the direction that Karofsky had waddled off in (of course it was Karofsky – the only meathead in the football and hockey team who was brain damaged enough not to realize what a bad fucking idea it was to piss him off) Sebastian snatched his phone up off the ground, eyeing the screen carefully for damage before stalking off after him. One thing he’d learned in his time at McKinley was that there was a very small window for retribution before someone out there started to think you were easy pickings.
Sebastian pushed his way into the locker room, zeroing in on Karofsky’s location and starting in before the door had even closed behind him. “What part of keeping your comically oversized hamhocks to yourself seems to be eluding you, Yogi Bear? Because from where I’m standing it’s pretty simple.”
“This is the boys locker room, Smythe,” Karofsky spat back without even bothering to turn around, his head half-buried in his locker. “Nobody wants you spreading your fairy dust around in here.”
“You see, that would sound so much more convincing if I didn’t catch you checking me out during gym every week,” Sebastian scoffed in return, picking his way around the bench and smirking when he caught the way Karofsky’s shoulders had stiffened at his words. Of course he was. “What? We’re not all half-blind from being trapped in the closet for so long.”
He was caught off guard for the second time that day by Karofsky moving, surprisingly fast for a guy of his size, the jerk of sweaty fingers twisting into his shirt before he was slammed back into the lockers for the second time that day rattling the amusement right out of him. Sebastian opened his mouth to protest, something about how his grubby hands were going to stain his shirt, but the sight of the raw terror on the other boy’s face froze the words in the back of his throat.
“I’m not gay,” Karofsky all but spat in his face, promptly undermining his declaration with the nervous drop of his eyes towards Sebastian’s lips. Realization of what was about to happen hit right about the same time as lips crashed into his.
Sebastian shoved hard, instinctually raising a hand to wipe at his mouth to try and get he sensation off of him. His voice was just a little strained, but loud none the less as he snarled, “Way to prove your point, buddy. How outstandingly heterosexual of you.”
He suspected his words would have had more impact if there had been anyone there to hear them instead of empty air and the rank smell of Karofsky’s fear.
Well.
Fuck.
–
Are we still on for coffee this afternoon? :)
Sebastian stared down at the screen of his phone, tapping his fingers lightly against the case as he contemplated what the hell he was supposed to do. He could tell his father of course and Karofsky would be expelled so fast his head would spin. If he believed him. He could go straight to Schuester and watch him stutter around the implications that maybe, did you ever imply you wanted to kiss him?
This really shouldn’t be so complicated.
4.30, Rockstar. Don’t be late.
(At least some things weren’t.)
–
He hadn’t told his father (yet) and Sebastian’s pretty sure you couldn’t have paid him enough to make him want to talk to Schuester about it, but it took all of five minutes of sitting across the table from Blaine with his big expressive eyes before he’d spilled the story in it’s entirety.
Sebastian’s starting to suspect that he knew why the Warblers asked Blaine to confront their spies.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
If Sebastian was being entirely honest, he didn’t really know what he was feeling, but there was something about the worried expression on Blaine’s face that told him everything he needed to know. He could say he wasn’t and he’s sure Blaine would do almost anything to make him feel better, the expression on his face so painfully sincere that Sebastian wonders how anyone could be so open around someone they only just met.
“I’ll be fine,” Sebastian replied instead, wondering what was wrong with him that he’s so relieved when the tension on Blaine’s face eased off just a little, “Once I get the taste of onion rings out of my mouth, that is. I feel like I got attacked by a deep frier.”
“That’s awful,” Blaine murmured, eyes dropping towards the table as his eyebrows drew together in a frown. “He sounds .. really confused.”
“Confused?” Sebastian replied, lips quirking up into a smirk as he leaned into the table, “You make it sound like you haven’t thought about kissing me.”
A startled laugh escaped Blaine’s mouth, hurriedly stifled behind his coffee cup, but there was something almost obnoxiously sweet about the way his eyes darted upwards, meeting Sebastian’s across the table as a blush crept in across his cheeks.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you had,” Sebastian replied lightly, leaning just a little closer in against the table, “I’m thinking about kissing you right now.”
Sebastian was pretty sure that the flustered smile and duck of chin he got in response was more than answer enough.
–
“I don’t know how I let you talk me into this,” Sebastian groaned, glancing up and down the staircase as Blaine followed after him. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his blazer and tie and neatly tamed hair, like he’d been transported from an entirely different world.
Sebastian still wasn’t entirely convinced that wasn’t the case.
“Maybe he just needs someone to talk to,” Blaine contended lightly, his eyes big and earnest and god, that was exactly how Blaine had talked him into this.
“That would require Karofsky learning to communicate with his words instead of shoving and grunting at things,” Sebastian muttered in response, glancing back towards Blaine and wondering again how he’d let this happen. A kid like Blaine would get eaten alive at McKinley.
Blaine rolled his eyes, shoving lightly at his shoulder as if to chastise him before Sebastian grimaced, locking his sights on Karofsky up ahead and sighing out a disgruntled, “Letterman jacket headed our way, just please don’t do anything stupid.”
Blaine shot him a look as it to say of course not, which Sebastian took to mean this was a terrible idea but Blaine had already started talking.
“Excuse me-”
“Is that your girlfriend, Smythe?” Karofsky sneered, not so much as slowing down as he stalked past with a leer in Sebastian’s general direction.
“I know what you did,” Blaine called after him, “I know this must be confusing for you, but you should just know that-”
Sebastian saw Karofsky coming long before Blaine did, but he was entirely too slow to intercept as the guy grabbed Blaine by the lapels of his blazer and shoved him up against the wire fence. The moment between Sebastian hauling Karofsky off of him, anger evident on his face as he snapped, “Hands off before I break them, Boo-Boo,” and seeing Blaine pinned up against that fence burned sharp into his brain.
Karofsky backed off with only a sneer of, “Keep your bitch on a leash, Smythe,” before he hurried away, clearly not willing to risk being seen talking to Sebastian in public.
“That,” Sebastian said after a moment of carefully regarding how Blaine had sank back against the wire fence before he sank down to sit on one of the steps, eyeing Blaine with wry smile, “Would be the something stupid I was talking about.”
“Well, at least we know he’s not coming out anytime soon,” Blaine replied after a moment, his voice suspiciously light as he moved to drop down onto the step next to Sebastian, close enough that their arms brushed together where they sat.
“You tried to White Knight me,” Sebastian said after a moment’s silence, his eyes drifting to Blaine’s face in bewildered amusement. “You’re what? 5”6 and made up of 93% show choir and 7% sunshine, and you just tried to White Knight me.”
“5”7,” Blaine corrected with a huff, leaning in lightly to nudge his shoulder against Sebastian’s as he ducked his chin, lips curved in a tiny smile. “Besides, you never mentioned he was quite so big.”
Sebastian snorted, shaking his head as he pushed himself to his feet again, turning to face Blaine with something resembling fond amusement as he declared, “You’re an idiot.”
“And you’re the worst spy in the history of Dalton,” Blaine replied, following suit as Sebastian got to his feet and blinking in surprise when he found it had brought them face to face. “What are you doing?”
“I was thinking about kissing you,” Sebastian replied, lips quirking up at the corner, “Do you mind?”
Blaine blinked back at him, his eyes wide with stunned surprise, but his lips curled up into a smile as Sebastian’s fingers curled into the lapels of his blazer, tugging him lightly forward until their noses brushed and Sebastian could feel the featherlight flutter of Blaine’s eyelashes against his skin. Blaine tilted his head just so, a hand sliding up to cup his jaw and fingers carding back through the short hairs behind his ear as he pressed in, their lips brushing not at all tentatively before Sebastian angled in, coaxing at Blaine’s lips until he responded in kind.
Sebastian pulled back with a gentle nip at Blaine’s lower lip, watching the slow flutter of Blaine’s eyelashes as his eyes reopened before a slow, goofy smile spread across those ridiculously pink lips.
“If you wanted an excuse to see me again, you should have just asked,” Sebastian said after a moment, grinning when Blaine whacked him in the arm.
“You’re ridiculous,” Blaine informed him, smile wide as he shook his head slowly.
“If you think that’s ridiculous, wait until you hear my plan for how I intend to transfer to Dalton.”