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Blaine wouldn’t say he falls in love very easily.
He has his obsessions, sure. Collecting postcards from places he’s never been, re-organizing his Captain America comics while he sips coffee from a Disney inspired mug (he gets one every year on a family trip). His bowties are in a specific order according to fabric and pattern and he likes when his clothes are cataloged in a certain way in his closet so that even in the dark he can pull out exactly what he needs.
So those…he can categorize as obsessions, or hobbies even. But love? Hmm.
Falling in love is kinda foreign to him.
Except for falling in love with the new French student who’s somehow become popular within days of him being here. There’s that.
Of course Blaine isn’t surprised, Sebastian is very dreamy.
He’s tall and sort of skinny, but not in an unflattering way. He’s got brown hair that always looked wind kissed, freckles on his high cheekbones if you look close enough and bright green eyes that remind him of ivy in the sunlight. Not that he’s…looked or anything. And because he’s from France, his voice is astounding. Melodic in nature with hints of his accent when he speaks English.
It’s gorgeous and Blaine’s in love.
It took one interaction to tell him this.
Blaine sees him in the hallway sometimes, watches him get things out of his locker. He sighs softly and leans against his own, popular girls and guys passing Sebastian and talking to him, flirting with him. He has zero chance, he can barely even speak to him. The one time they talked he had dropped his books everywhere.
Sebastian had rushed over to help so that half the student body didn’t step on them or him as he kneeled down to scoop everything up. There had been many flustered ‘thank you’s’ and too much blush on his cheeks.
The taller had merely smiled and said, “Blush semble bon sur vous.”
Blaine had blinked at him and tried to look up exactly what he said ninety-nine times thanks to Google Translate but couldn’t get the spelling right. So he still has no idea what Sebastian said to him.
But the voice and the accent and the French itself was a thank you enough. He doesn’t really care what he said to him. The point is Sebastian had smiled a little bit when he said it, so hopefully he said nothing like ‘you clumsy fool’.
“Daydreaming again, Anderson?” Amizo comes out from behind his locker and sends his books flying into the air, splaying all over the place.
White hot embarrassment fills his belly as he glances up and of course everyone is watching, including Sebastian.
“None of your business.” He says, because…at one point in his life he actually had a backbone. He boxes for goodness sake. Why does he allow these bullies to manhandle him in the hallway? So you don’t get expelled—a tiny voice tells him in the back of his mind.
“Oh,” Amizo grins, “Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”
And he can’t stop himself, why is he saying this— “I would say the same thing to you, it would explain the dimwitted look in your eye.”
Anyone who’s been watching them makes ‘ohhh’ noises at Blaine’s rebuttal. Even Sebastian puts his hand to his mouth for a soft chuckle before closing his locker. Blaine lives in this glorified moment for about three seconds before someone rounds the corner with a slushie and splashes it right into his face.
He gasps as the ice blue liquid covers him from head to toe and burns his eyes, seeps right down into his clothes and makes him shiver from the inside out. He can hear Amizo laughing as he’s shoved against his locker.
“Have a good day, Anderson.”
Blaine blinks and rubs his eyes, muttering under his breath about being stupid as the hallway starts to clear out. Someone hands him a towel or a tissue or something soft, handkerchief maybe? to pat his face and he thinks it might be Kurt because that’s the only real friend he has in this school.
But when he pulls it back and can finally see again, there’s a pair of green eyes staring down at him.
Oh.
“Are you alright?”
English Blaine, you can do this. “Yes, I’m alright.” He nods, licks his lips. Very sugary thanks to Amizo. He needs to say something, Sebastian is staring at him expectantly as he cleans his face with his handkerchief. Uh. “Your English is very good.”
What?
Sebastian smiles slowly and a soft chuckle escapes. He’s going to die right then and there. “Bilingue.” He says. Blaine blinks again. “Oh, uh. I’m bilingual.”
Blaine laughs suddenly, doesn’t mean to but it’s sort of out of nervousness. Bilingual. Of course he is. Blaine is having trouble with one language at the moment and Sebastian has mastered two.
“You’re Blaine, right? I think you’re in my Bio class.”
He nods and closes his locker; he needs to go to the restroom to clean himself up. Most of the teachers like him a lot so, he’s not too worried about being late. He can explain his run-in with the slushie.
“That’s…that’s me.” He nods. Sebastian has noticed him? Though, he supposes, it’s hard not to with situations like this. “How is the new school treating you?”
“Oh, it’s fine.” Sebastian nods, starts to walk with him towards the bathroom. “I wish I had some tour guide, however. As you can plainly see, I don’t speak one word of American.” He teases with a wink.
Blaine feels faint. “S-surely the principal provided you with a student guide? I think Brad or Sharon usually do those.” He nods, shoulders his way into the bathroom.
He went a few paper towels and starts cleaning himself up, sighing at his reflection. He’s a mess. Very sticky. He runs a hand through his hair and scrunches his nose. At least he had mostly black on today, no stains.
“I was thinking, maybe, you could be my tour guide.”
The shorter raises an eyebrow at him through the reflection in the mirror. “Me?”
“If you want,” He smiles, watches Blaine fumble with his hair and try and straighten his clothes. He blushes slightly, embarrassed that one slushie has managed to screw up his entire presentation. “Vous avez l'air bien. Magnifique, même.”
“You realize I have. No idea what you’re saying.”
Sebastian laughs a little and grins, “I’ve been hitting on you in French this entire time, it’s mostly because of that little confused nose scrunch thing you do after the fact.”
Blaine turns and blushes a dark pink, leans again the sink. He hands Sebastian his handkerchief back, or tries to anyways—the taller allows him to keep it. “You...” He swallows. “You do realize I’m on the end of the food chain.”
He takes a step forward and gently plays with a curl on top of his head, “Not from where I’m standing. Sortir avec moi.”
Blaine finds himself nodding his head. “Yes.”
The other grins. “You have no idea what I said, do you?”
A swirl of confidence builds up from his belly, “No. But one-on-one lessons sound just fine.”