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Over the years Blaine has made something of an art form out of avoiding Professor Slughorn's infamous Christmas Parties.
He makes sure his schedule is booked so tight that there is no possible way he could go, even if he wanted to. He takes care to send lavish and exotic gifts well in advance, apologizing for his unfortunate absence, always making sure to emphasize how busy his schedule is and how much he misses Slug Club meetings (because even if he'd never been especially fond of Professor Slughorn, the man had always been exceptionally kind to him.)
This year, however, it seems that his luck has finally run out:
Somewhere along the line, between all the fuss with the media and the headache inducing stress of creating the new album, he had forgotten; the gifts, the excuses, all of it.
Now he has gone and hit that awful lull in his calendar between finishing recording the album and preparing for it's release, and in a moment of complete idiocy he had opened the letter with the invitation inside while his manager was present. And while they haven't really started promotion for the album yet, she had balked at the idea of him turning down such a brilliant opportunity to network at a party filled with influential faces.
Blaine had tried to point out that, while on paper the diversity and influence of the Slug Club may seem impressive, in reality it was something much more akin to a Serial Killer lining the trophies of his victims up for public display or a terribly uncomfortable school reunion that no-one particularly wants to be at. What it definitely is not is a tour de force in promoting an upcoming album.
Tina had hit him over the head for that and told him, quite bluntly, that he would be going and that he had better enjoy himself. Or else.
In reflection, it is probably kind of pathetic that after so many beautifully executed plots to evade these damn parties, Tina threatening him had been all it took to get him here.
It feels strange to be back at Hogwarts after being gone for so long but here he stands, none the less; dressed impeccably, bearing a very nicely wrapped gift that he hasn't a clue as to what could be inside and hiding in the corner from his Ex.
Which, coincidentally enough, is the other reason why he really, really doesn't want to be here.
It isn't that things between he and Kurt didn't end well, because they ended about as well as any relationship probably could, and it isn't that he and Kurt don't still get along wonderfully, because they certainly do.
It's that Professor Slughorn is a meddling old git, there are at least three reporters from the Daily Prophet and one from Witch Weekly in the room (that he knows of) and Blaine is frankly kind of terrified of what will happen if he so much as breathes near another male-shaped person. He is beginning to suspect that it is all part of Tina's plan.
Enough fuss had been made in the media over his 'infinite heartbreak' when he and Kurt had first broken up and he absolutely does not want to relive any of those particular headlines in the near or distant future.
Blaine sighs, glancing longingly in the direction of the refreshments table, before he attempts to steel himself for the inevitable point at which he will have to venture into the midst of the chattering guests and students to pass on his well wishes to the host.
This is not how he envisioned spending his Christmas holidays.
"Well, well."
Blaine feels a low curl of dread start somewhere near his toes and wind slowly up through his body. He turns his head slowly, frowns, and cranes his head back to look up, and up, and up, and promptly freezes.
"So there I was, standing by the refreshment table checking out this guy and I said to myself, why is it that the hottest guy in the room is hiding himself away in a corner?"
Unable to keep himself from staring, Blaine's eyes widen with steadily dawning horror as he realizes exactly who it is that is smirking down at him and he finds himself desperately battling the sudden, not-so-inexplicable urge to bolt for the nearest exit. He is certain there isn't a single other person in the entire room, outside of Kurt, that it would look worse for him be caught talking to, in a quiet and discreet corner no less.
If there is one thing that Sebastian Smythe has made an art form of, it is his ability to generate a scandal. And headlines.
And if there is anything that Blaine does not want, it is any headlines or scandals.
Clearly realising that Blaine isn't about to say anything, Sebastian's lips curve slowly upward, his eyes dragging down to Blaine's toes before crawling up again, the scrutiny making Blaine's ears burn, and extends his hand. "Sebastian Smythe."
"I know," Blaine replies before he can stop himself, cursing the ingrained habits that have him automatically reaching to shake the hand he is offered.
Sebastian quirks an eyebrow, something wicked and suggestive stirring in his smile as he simply doesn't release Blaine's hand, one finger tracing softly along the inner skin of his wrist as he asks, "Magpies fan, Anderson?"
"Only when you're losing," Blaine replies, pulling his hand away and trying to ignore the blush that he can feel rising up his neck under Sebastian's intent stare. "You're kind of hard to avoid, you know."
"Really now?" Sebastian asks with a surprised laugh as he turns his body towards Blaine, leaning a shoulder casually against the wall to peer down at him with that same unnerving smile. "Because I've been waiting to get you alone in a dark corner for months now, Anderson. You're a hard man to pin down."
There's a creeping warmth that crawls high cross his cheekbones as he looks away, willing himself to not remember the Quidditch Quarterly's in-depth interview with the Montrose Magpies star Chaser that Tina had shoved gleefully in his face last month, the celebrity crush section highlighted an obnoxious shade of pink over the words Blaine Anderson.
Blaine determinedly ignores the suggestion in Sebastian's words to ask, just a hint of genuine curiosity seeping through his attempts to be casual, "How much of that stuff in the headlines is even true, anyway?"
"Subscribe to Witch Weekly do we?" Sebastian asks, eyebrows arched high in amusement as he ducks his head a little closer to Blaine to say, "I should be asking you the same question."
"Kurt and I broke up. I think that's about the only part they did get right," Blaine replies and he isn't entirely sure when it happened, but he is definitely angled towards Sebastian now, and he can't seem to stop the curiosity that compels him to ask, "What about you?"
"I'd say we're up to a ratio of about 70% myth, 20% blatant lies and 10% truth." Sebastian's eyes dip suggestively towards Blaine mouth as he asks, "Why do you ask? Are you interested in separating the man from the legend, Anderson?"
Blaine wrinkles his nose, ducking his head to hide the laugh he can't quite suppress because he certainly does not find Sebastian Smythe's horrific lines charming. Still, it probably doesn't help his cause that he is grinning as he asks, "Does that ever work for you?"
"Ask me again in half an hour," Sebastian replies and Blaine has to bite back the grin that threatens to spill across his face when he actually winks because who even does that?
He looks away to regain his composure, scanning the room carefully and feeling more than a little relieved when nobody seems to be paying them any attention.
"So why exactly are you hiding out over here, all by yourself?" Sebastian asks after a moment. "Or is this just how Blaine Anderson parties?"
Blaine rolls his eyes a little, pointedly ignoring the teasing nudge of an elbow against his side, before admitting, "Kurt's here, somewhere."
"The Ex?" Sebastian questions with renewed interest.
Blaine eyes him sharply before sighing and rubbing a hand ruefully across the back of his neck, "I'm trying to avoid any unnecessary interest in my love life from resurfacing."
Sebastian laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he says, "It may be a little late for that, Anderson."
The furrow of his eyebrows makes Sebastian grin as he leans forward, his mouth inches from Blaine's ear as he says, "To your left, the short guy with the very misguided moustache who has been pretending to admire that painting of Uric the Oddball for the past twenty minutes."
Blaine glances cautiously over and catches the man's eyes as they snap suddenly back to the painting with a look of intense interest. Sebastian's breath is warm against his ear as he laughs, low and soft, and continues, "He's a reporter for Witch Weekly. I recognize him from a feature they ran last month on the team."
That initial curl of dread that had hit Blaine when he'd first realized who it was that had approached him returns full force.
"Don't worry your pretty head," Sebastian continues as he draws back a little, lips curved in a wicked smile. "I will fully endorse any rumors they may or may not spread about us."
Blaine gapes at him, eyes falling to where Sebastian's hand has curled around his bicep and drags lazily down the length of his arm to rest around his wrist. Sebastian looks like he is considering his next move, eyes dipping to Blaine's mouth and up again, and Blaine can't understand why he is just waiting, why he is even giving Sebastian Smythe, whose reputation speaks for itself, the time of day.
The look on Sebastian's face is strange though, now that Blaine is actually paying attention. From this close up he seems an entirely different person than the guy who smirks and poses in his Quidditch Robes in Witch Weekly and the Quidditch Quarterly. Blaine can count each freckle, the scattering of beauty spots beneath his startlingly pretty eyes, and the part of him that had smiled, small and private, when Tina had shoved that interview into his hands, makes him wait.
It is when Sebastian finally closes in, inclining his head towards Blaine to murmur, "We could give them something worth writing about," and he quirks an eyebrow just a little, that Blaine feels his resolve break a little.
He has been so careful since the break up, burying himself in the work of creating again to try and shut out all of the ludicrous rumors that had been flying around. He is starting to think that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be a little less cautious.
Sebastian must see the decision on his face, or he simply got bored of waiting, because suddenly he is stepping right into Blaine's space and raising a hand to cup his cheek, thumb tracing lazily along his jaw before he carefully tilts Blaine's head back and leans in.
The first brush of their lips is light and lazy; the second following almost immediately after, firmer and more insistent. The third lingers, Sebastian's lips moving slow and determinedly, as Blaine presses up into it, ignoring the part of him that is telling him this is a terrible idea, as his hands rise to settle on Sebastian's shoulders. The fourth Blaine takes control of, dragging a hand up the back of Sebastian's neck to tug him down to a better angle as he drags at Sebastian's lower lip with his teeth and hears a low hum of appreciation roll up his throat.
Blaine kind of loses track after that, reveling in how ridiculous it is that all these years later he is hiding in the corner of one of Slughorn's parties and making out with a boy again. Possibly to spite the media.
He is really kind of fuzzy on the why but he figures it can't be important, not when one of Sebastian's hands appears to be wandering down his back, moving steadily lower until it settles over the curve of his ass and Blaine gasps into Sebastian's mouth when he squeezes.
It is probably fitting that it is at that moment, when Blaine can feel Sebastian starting to smirk against his lips, that there is a loud, uncomfortable clearing of throat right next to them.
Blaine slowly turns his head, ignoring the laughter that Sebastian is somehow managing to muffle though it is rumbling in his chest, the tremor running through Blaine's fingers and he is somehow not at all surprised to find that not only is Professor Slughorn himself standing and staring at them, looking both older and thinner than Blaine remembers him, but Kurt as well.
There is an uncomfortable moment where Kurt purses his lips, his carefully raised eyebrow quite clearly asking, Really?
(Blaine has always kind of admired Kurt's ability to say so much without even having to open his mouth.)
The silence stretches, Blaine shifting uncomfortably and resolving to ignore the fact that Sebastian has yet to move the hand that is still squeezing his ass.
Slughorn stares at them, his prominent eyes narrowed before he clears his throat again and says, "Maybe - perhaps it would be best if you were to call it a night, boys."
"Best idea I've heard all night," Sebastian agrees, his wide smile making his meaning clear and Blaine is mostly just relieved that Sebastian's hand finally drops back to his side when he asks, "You coming, Anderson?"
Blaine fights off the urge to sigh, instead bending down to retrieve the present that had tumbled, unnoticed, to the floor at some point (hoping that whatever it is wasn't breakable) and mutters, "Merry Christmas, Professor."
Slughorn accepts the present, his face still stern with disapproval as Blaine tries to will away the brilliant shade of red that he is pretty sure his entire face has turned and moves to follow Sebastian to the door. Blaine stares determinedly ahead, pointedly ignoring how blatantly Sebastian seems to be enjoying this until they finally reach the corridor, Blaine waiting until the door is closed behind them before he turns and whacks Sebastian, hard, on the arm.
"Hey!" Sebastian protests.
"I can't believe you just got me kicked out of the Slug Club," Blaine snaps.
"I'm pretty sure you were the one who stuck your tongue in my mouth first," Sebastian replies brightly. "I think, technically, that means you got me kicked out of the Slug Club."
"You grabbed my ass in front of members of the press," Blaine points out, and maybe he is whining just a little but he is pretty sure that must have been the tipping point.
"It's a very nice ass," Sebastian says, shrugging absently. "Very round. I don't think anyone would blame me."
He punctuates that with a solid whack to the ass in question and Blaine squawks indignantly and rounds on him with one finger raised in warning.
Sebastian raises his hands in surrender; eyebrows raised high in amusement and Blaine rolls his eyes before falling back into step with him. They walk silently down the empty corridors, for a while, the obnoxious smirk on Sebastian's face needling away at Blaine until he finally huffs, "What?"
"You're cute when you're mad."
Blaine forces himself to breathe, slowly in and then out, before very calmly saying, "I am not."
The smirk remains as they finally leave the castle and head out into the grounds.
They have almost reached the gate when Sebastian abruptly reaches out, snagging Blaine's wrist and pulling him to a stop. He stares down at Blaine for a moment before saying, "So I've got this party tomorrow, a Quidditch thing, and I'm pretty sure you owe me at least three dates for getting me exiled from Slughorn's Christmas Parties."
Blaine gapes at him,"Is this you trying to ask me out?"
Sebastian shrugs, thumb tracing lazily over the bone of Blaine’s wrist and down the back of his hand as he asks, "I don't know. Is it working?"
Blaine lets out a startled laugh, surprised to find just how intently Sebastian is waiting for his reply, and shakes his head, not entirely sure what is wrong with him, as he agrees, "Alright. But only if you promise to keep your hands to yourself."
"I'll make no promises of the sort," Sebastian replies, tugging lightly at Blaine's wrist until they start walking again. "And you already said yes, so I'm holding you to that."
Blaine rolls his eyes and it is almost kind of nice, walking side by side with someone again with the promise of another date on the horizon.
"Try not to get us kicked out of this party as well though, Anderson. I actually want to go to this one."
Almost.