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I dream of cracking locks
Throwing my life to the wolves
Or the ocean rocks
Crashing into him tonight
He's a paradox
I'm seeing visions, am I bad?
Or mad? Or wise?
–Guilty as sin?
The tension in Blaine keeps building the closer they get to Scandals. By this point, he can’t deal with the look his boyfriend keeps throwing him from the driver’s seat.
God, his boyfriend. He has a boyfriend. So the shame of what he did last night burns him slowly. But then, when it fades, and this is what terrifies him the most, he doesn’t feel like the worst person in the world. And he knows he should.
When his hand slips inside his pajama pants, he’s supposed to think about his boyfriend. Or some porn video. He thinks that would at least be more considerate than thinking about the lips of the boy he met a few weeks ago. Or maybe his hands, with long fingers and veins standing out against pale skin. And then there are those freckles, like they’ve been sprinkled across his cheeks, trailing down his neck and maybe his chest. And Blaine has seen it. That afternoon when he stopped by Dalton and Sebastian was halfway out of his uniform. His eyes couldn’t pull away from the half-unbuttoned shirt that revealed his friend’s pale chest.
Sebastian caught him, but didn’t say anything. Just a small, knowing smile that later twisted into something else, almost a grimace. Because maybe he’s reaching that point too, where this is more than a game. More than harmless teasing and flirting that’s okay because it’ll never go anywhere. The thing is, Blaine wants it to. And Sebastian… well, he practically threw himself at Blaine the moment he saw him.
Blaine can still feel the current running through his body from the moment their eyes met, when Sebastian grabbed his arm and dragged him into the Warblers’ dance. Nothing has felt this much like home since.
So on the way to Scandals, with his phone buzzing with what he knows are messages from Sebastian, he can’t help thinking about how things might have been if he’d stayed at Dalton. And it’s even worse when he admits that he wishes he had. That maybe it would’ve been the perfect excuse for his relationship not to work out, and then he’d be free to—
The door next to him opens and closes almost immediately. They’re here.
Blaine shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. It takes him five more seconds to gather the courage to get out of the car. Kurt is waiting for him, bouncing anxiously on his feet. And then his chest tightens even more, because he’s ignored how Kurt must be feeling. It’s obvious Sebastian hates his boyfriend, and that should be reason enough for Blaine to back away, but he doesn’t. He won’t. He doesn’t want to. And if that makes him the worst boyfriend in the world, at least it doesn’t compare to fantasizing about the enemy and his boyfriend’s biggest insecurity.
Kurt says something about how they don’t look like their fake ID photos. But Blaine is so lost in his traitorous thoughts that he can’t bring himself to respond. By the time reality catches up with him, they’re already walking toward Sebastian.
That’s when the cold water hits him. Compared to the entire ride over, when he couldn’t even speak and just stared at a fixed point, Blaine is now grinning ear to ear at his friend, who waves at them.
He doesn’t even flinch when Sebastian takes a passive-aggressive jab at Kurt. He’s just too excited to be here. He and Sebastian clink their beer bottles together, and the sound of glass is like an alarm going off in his brain.
From there on, everything goes smoothly. At least for him and Sebastian. He’s three beers in and he’s a lightweight. And at the end of the day, he’s only seventeen, there’s no reason he should have more experience with alcohol. Not even Sebastian, who constantly brags about coming here and drinking elegant French liquors. Blaine smiles when he notices the flush on Sebastian’s cheeks. Because he knows everything coming out of his mouth is just to impress him. And it works. But Blaine isn’t stupid either.
Sebastian smiles back at him, with a glint different from his usual malicious one.
They spend at least half an hour talking to each other, with Kurt behind them. Blaine is practically turning his back on him in his chair while Sebastian sits right in front of him. At one point, Blaine’s eyes widen so much that Sebastian raises an eyebrow at him. And he feels awful when he realizes he’s literally forgotten that: one, he has a boyfriend. Two, that boyfriend came with him.
Blaine starts turning toward him slowly, terrified of what he might say, but also of what you’re supposed to say when you’ve spent hours flirting with another guy while forgetting your boyfriend exists.
And then Sebastian stands up. Blaine sees him rise from the corner of his eye.
“We should dance.” Sebastian moves toward him, flicking a glance (less than a second), at the third person in the space.
Blaine perks up immediately. Because it’s the perfect excuse to break the tension he himself has been building.
“Let’s dance,” Blaine encourages, staring straight at Kurt.
But Kurt doesn’t blink. He takes a sip through his straw and seems to think it over, carefully avoiding looking at Sebastian. Finally, he shakes his head. “I’m good.”
Blaine frowns. He really wanted to. But even in his drunken state, he knows doing it without Kurt would be crossing too big a line.
“Go ahead,” Kurt adds. “Have fun.” And that leaves Blaine staring at him, mouth open.
Kurt doesn’t look upset. Or sarcastic. Or like a partner who agrees to something while daring you to do it and face the consequences. Or maybe Blaine is more drunk than he thought. Because Kurt is smiling when Sebastian drags him onto the dance floor.
It’s half empty, the lighting is awful, and the music is generic. But for Blaine, it’s the best night of his life. He feels so free when Sebastian urges him to follow his lead. Blaine falls into it without much effort. He loves dancing. He loves that Sebastian is so good at it. He’ll never say it out loud, but he likes doing more than just awkwardly moving his shoulders and hips.
Sebastian is effortless, loose, so good with every movement. Blaine figures all that training in different dance styles he had as a kid led him here. And he feels proud of him. Because thanks to Sebastian, the Warblers are better than they ever were under his leadership.
And that sting pricks again. Because everything circles back to the what if. They would’ve done great things together with the Warblers.
His mind is hazy, his skin tingles under the occasional brush of Sebastian’s fingers. The lights sweep across the floor, and when they hit Sebastian’s skin, they frame his profile perfectly. He has a beautiful face. Fine, enviable features. His eyes look moss-green right now in the darkness, catching flashes of light whenever his face is illuminated. And those freckles. Blaine reaches out, almost ghostlike, to trace them, scattered across the bridge of his nose. Sebastian’s eyes widen slightly before relaxing, willing to take whatever Blaine gives him.
It feels like a trance. Blaine keeps moving, slower now, almost swaying thanks to Sebastian’s hands, which are touching him now. Barely there, fingers brushing his lower back. Waiting, testing the ground and Blaine’s reaction.
Blaine blinks, eyes so bright they look close to tears. His fingers hover millimeters from Sebastian’s skin. He drags them along, as if he’s both lost in the moment and afraid to touch, because the last thing he wants is for the image in front of him to fall apart.
“You have freckles,” he murmurs, and somehow Sebastian hears him even through the loud music.
Sebastian smiles, amused, but gives in when his skin turns red.
“Got a thing for freckles, killer?” he jokes.
He expects Blaine to pull back and blush. Instead, Blaine nods, enchanted. Sebastian’s eyes widen so much Blaine wants to thank him, because now he can see the blue swirling in his irises.
“Your voice too,” Blaine says. So easy and simple it almost feels that way. Easy.
Just as easy as it would be for Sebastian to wrap an arm around Blaine’s back and pull him flush against his body until there’s no space left. Just as easy as it would be for Blaine to tilt his head up.
Just as easy as it should’ve been to feel annoyed that someone was talking to his boyfriend at the bar, to stop and head over there.
But right now, caught in either irrationality or the courage alcohol gives him, he stays.
“Your voice gave me chills,” he admits. Because he thought it the day Sebastian introduced himself. Only back then, it stayed in his head. Well, he doesn’t want to keep things only in his head anymore.
“Killer, you have no idea what you’re doing,” Sebastian warns in a low, rough voice, leaning down until his temple rests against Blaine’s.
“But I want to.” And oh no, that should be a red alert in his head. Walk away and go back to your boyfriend, who’s watching you. If he hasn’t already left, considering he’s practically grinding on the dance floor with someone else.
But rationality has never been his strong suit, not even when he’s sober. If it were, he never would’ve transferred schools.
His heart pounds, danger slipping under his skin. But all he feels is adrenaline and a heat he knows he’ll be embarrassed about once the alcohol wears off.
Right now, he thinks that people have already labeled him a traitor for talking to those who used to be his friends first. So he figures that if they’re going to crucify him anyway, he might as well stop betraying himself.
At least that’s what his stupid, naïve, determined mind tells him.
On the other side of the dance floor, Kurt stands up, newly resolved after an unexpected conversation that gave him courage he hadn’t arrived with. He scans the now more crowded floor, but not enough to miss it. He stops dead two steps in. His foot almost slips and he nearly falls backward. And it’s all he wishes he could do when he sees them, sink into the ground and avoid the flames scorching him. He bolts for the exit without looking at anyone.
Blaine’s fingers finally make contact, mapping constellations that make him feel like he’s floating. He gasps in surprise when Sebastian’s arm finally secures him, and Blaine loses control. His hand slides up, tangling in Sebastian’s hair, damp from dancing, and he presses up, finally taking what he’s been fantasizing about since the words “Blaine Anderson, Sebastian Smythe” came out of the mouth that fits perfectly against his.
It’s warm and soft as it moves against his. Blaine shivers in Sebastian’s arms, but it’s okay. He’s there to hold him.
His whole body burns, a delicious heat that makes him want to sink into the floor with him.
They move their lips slowly until it’s no longer enough, and both have the same idea when they slide their tongues into each other’s mouths. When they touch, Blaine doesn’t believe there’s a better sensation than this. The heat that envelops him is too much for his already irrational and fragile mind. He loses all control over himself and lets Sebastian take him.
Sebastian nips at his lip, presses long fingers into his lower back. Blaine tugs at his hair on instinct, and it’s right when Sebastian moans in his mouth.
At some point it gets too heated, breathing turns difficult, and they pull apart reluctantly.
“Blaine.” It sounds like a plea against his lips.
Blaine nods, even though he doesn’t say anything. He just knows he has to. Because whatever Sebastian felt, he felt it too.
And then it clicks. He turns his head slowly, without pulling away from Sebastian, and catches the moment Kurt disappears through the door.
Blaine closes his eyes and exhales heavily. Sebastian lifts his head and follows Blaine’s gaze to where it had been a second ago.
He scans the room. The spot at the bar is empty now. And some guy is staring at him with an almost tangible hatred that might’ve made him step back if he weren’t so absorbed in the boy he’s still holding against his body, the one who still makes his fingertips tingle.
“Killer,” he starts, but Blaine cuts him off immediately with a shake of his head.
Anxiety eats at Sebastian with every second Blaine stays silent. Finally, he takes a step back. Their hands remain tangled for a moment, and he finds himself staring at them, just like Blaine is.
Blaine still won’t look at him, but he doesn’t break contact either. So Sebastian figures he should say something.
“Are you okay?” Because that’s what you’re supposed to say. The right, kind thing. Even if he rarely is. But this is Blaine. And right now, his pulse is racing for a lot of reasons, all of them involving him.
Will he say it was a mistake and run after his boyfriend? That should be fine. He got what he wanted, at least. He never expected more. Because it’s always the same routine. He meets the man of his dreams and forgets him twenty minutes later.
The thing is, he met Blaine almost a month ago, and he still can’t forget him. Honestly, he doesn’t want to. So yes, his heart is a mess, pounding wildly.
A sigh pulls him out of his thoughts. Blaine looks up and meets his eyes. He can’t read what’s there.
“Let’s get a drink,” Blaine says, catching him off guard. Still, he lets himself be guided to the bar without questioning it.
Blaine orders something Sebastian doesn’t hear, too busy running through the possibilities of what’s happening.
“B…” he tries again, reaching out.
Blaine turns at the touch, frowning, eyes narrowed. “B?” he questions, eyebrow raised in a way that completely disarms him.
Sebastian huffs nervously and looks down.
Blaine watches him battle his body’s reactions. But it’s too late, his cheeks are so red that Blaine wonders if he always looks this pathetic when he’s around Sebastian.
“I like it. Killer too,” Blaine decides, now that he’s out of shame to lose.
Sebastian gives him a half smile, props his elbows on the bar, and swirls his beer to distract himself.
“Seriously, are you okay?” He risks it again, now that neither of them can get any more embarrassed.
“Do you care?” comes the answer that makes him shiver. But Blaine doesn’t say it defensively. He sounds genuinely curious.
Almost like he wants to demand it. To know that the decisions made tonight aren’t his responsibility alone.
“I shouldn’t,” Sebastian says after a beat. “But yeah. I do.”
“You sure you won’t forget that kiss in twenty minutes?” Blaine teases.
That throws him off. Because he has no idea what goes on inside that head full of curls that beg for freedom.
“You’re not forgettable, Blaine Warbler,” Sebastian says, offering a crooked smile that betrays his vulnerability.
Blaine returns a strained smile, then looks back at his beer. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” he admits, hunching in on himself, as if trying to take up less space.
“Do you want to go after him?” Sebastian asks, daring, risking his own feelings.
But Blaine shakes his head. “I want something, but it’s not that.”
Sebastian’s heart stops for a second.
“And I feel bad. I should go after him because he doesn’t deserve this. But maybe I deserve whatever happens now.”
“I kissed you,” Sebastian says, surprising himself. He shouldn’t be looking for justifications that benefit others. “You can say that.”
“I kissed you,” Blaine says, turning fully toward him now. “And I wanted to. I still want to. And I don’t know what that makes me.”
“Well, whatever it is, you’re not alone,” Sebastian decides. He doesn’t have a magic answer to wipe that look off the face of the boy he’d crawl for right now if asked. “I wanted to kiss you too. I want to.” He emphasizes it, placing his hand over Blaine’s on the bar.
“Even after the twenty minutes?” Blaine jokes, and it makes Sebastian relax a little.
He snorts and rolls his eyes. “You corrupted my free soul.”
Blaine gives him a small, weak smile, but his eyes say more. Everything is a complete mess for both of them, in different ways. But now, having finally rolled the stone away (even if it wasn’t the best moment) feels liberating.
Blaine has spent the last year holding himself back. Giving in to other people’s desires. So if this turns him into the worst person in the world, there are worse ways to die.