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One of the many traditions that had started during college finals week was something Blaine had come to love. That no matter how stressed he was, pissed off, annoyed, sated with his grades or exhausted, he knew that he could stop by Sebastian’s apartment and that there was always a pot of coffee freshly brewed a long and lanky familiarity to lean against.
They had grown closer by moving out of Ohio, out of memories, the sounds and sights and smells of New York drowning them, seeping into their pores. Making them start anew. They aren’t a couple (yet) because Sebastian doesn’t do relationships…even though he doesn’t treat anyone the way he treats Blaine. It’s more than friendship, it’s more than the need and drive for sex or to have something he can’t exactly grasp.
He’s there for him more than anyone. He supports him, picks him up when he falls, holds him, is intimate in a way Sebastian says he can’t be. That he’s not capable of. It changes the dynamic between them, it taints it. It’s right in a way it shouldn’t be because they don’t fit perfectly, not to the naked eye.
But Blaine feels that connection when they touch, he feels pieces snapping into place when Sebastian hugs him or when they kiss after too much beer. Tongue and lips and teeth.
He’s over Sebastian’s apartment enjoying pizza and cheap beer, over stressed about an upcoming History final. It’s cold in his living room, or he’s sensitive, whatever, but it’s a wordless conversation when Sebastian tilts his head towards his bedroom and Blaine gets up to go down the hall and find a sweatshirt to put on.
He opens up his friend’s closet and fingers through the selection, shaking his head at the superhero tees before reaching into the back where the heavier stuff is. He tugs a sweatshirt off the hanger (yeah, Sebastian is the only person he knows who fucking hangs his sweatshirts) and hesitates before he can pull it over his head. He recognizes a striking blue and red, something from his past dusting off the shelf as he tugs it out of the closet, sweatshirt forgotten and placed on the corner of the bed.
“Hey, last slice out there, I’ll give it to you for a blow—”Sebastian’s cheeky statement is cut short as he stares at the object in Blaine’s hands.
It’s a Warbler’s blazer but it’s more than that because Blaine is pretty sure it’s his.
“What are you doing with this?”
Sebastian tries to take it from his hands but Blaine tugs it out of his reach. “What are you talking about it’s mine.”
He shakes his head. “The sleeves are too short so unless your arms grew Mr. Fantastic…this is my blazer, isn’t it? The one I left behind?”
Sebastian’s cheeks are red enough that he doesn’t need to reply, because Blaine already knows the answer. There’s something that tugs hard deep in Blaine’s chest at the fact that Sebastian still has something like this—back when they weren’t even friends. Back when Blaine wouldn’t even admit he had feelings for him because it was that deplorable.
“Why do you still have this?”
Sebastian sighs, takes it out of his hands and hangs it back up, a small smile tugging the corner of his mouth as he invades Blaine’s personal space. His breath is hot on his face, smells like beer, but in a way that’s almost tantalizing and pleasing.
“Because it’s a…reminder,” The taller says, his fingers toying with the buttons of the other’s polo shirt before their eyes meet. “To not let you walk so easily out of my life again.”
This time when they kiss it’s completely sober.