Archive of Our Own

Late night talking by Harry Styles

Sebastian waits at the edge of the stage. His legs dangle over the side as he stares at his water bottle, waiting for Blaine to come back from the bathroom.

His heart is racing as if fifteen minutes hadn’t already passed since they finished their private dance session.

He scoffs, a sly smile tugging at his lips. He loves the implications of those two words, the ones that always make Blaine blush. Maybe Blaine doesn’t notice. Maybe he does. Sebastian likes to think he does, and that he doesn’t really mind. So is his turn to blushing.

He hears footsteps behind him and turns his head, but not his body. He smiles, satisfied, and waits for Blaine to join him.

He does. They both sit with their legs hanging off the edge of the stage. And Sebastian can’t help thinking, like he’s been doing a lot lately, about how this was taken away from them. They could be here every day. Rehearsing for the Warblers’ number on their way to Sectionals. But instead, they’re sneaking around so Sebastian can help Blaine with his dancing for his debut as Tony in West Side Story, at another high school. Two hours away.

“Everything okay?” Blaine asks, taking the bottle Sebastian offers without looking at him.

Sebastian nods, thoughtful. He considers staying quiet and steering the conversation back toward teasing and comments that would make Blaine blush, but his mind isn’t connected to his mouth, so he ends up spilling the truth.

“Do you ever think about how it would’ve been if you’d stayed?” Silence settles over them. Just for a minute.

Sebastian fears he’s messed up beyond repair. That Blaine will stand up and leave. Because Sebastian already knows the answer. Of course Blaine thinks about it. He hears it in his voice every time they talk late at night. So this isn’t fair. He’s being selfish. Because he wants to hear it.

“You know I do,” comes the easy answer, heavy with regret.

“Would it have made a difference?” he asks. Forcing himself to be brave, or stupid. Which, in anyone else’s language, would just mean vulnerable.

He feels Blaine’s gaze on him and has to look back. He turns and meets his eyes, loaded with emotion as always.

Sebastian swallows visibly. “Between us.”

Blaine looks away immediately, and Sebastian watches his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Neither of them says anything for long, endless minutes. The anxiety in Sebastian’s body starts to fade, his heart settling back into a normal rhythm when Blaine stands up.

Sebastian doesn’t even have the courage to look up, though he knows he should. After all, if Blaine is ready to leave, then he should be too because he’s Blaine’s ride.

Summoning courage from that exclusive place he’s built for himself, full of appearances and pretenses, he looks toward Blaine, who’s already about to slip behind the stage.

But instead of walking on and disappearing behind the curtain, Blaine pauses. He doesn’t turn around right away, not for a few seconds in which Sebastian can’t stop staring at the back of his neck, as if that might magically let him read his thoughts.

The tension prickles beneath his skin, and then Blaine turns his head just slightly. Sebastian catches his profile, so neat and infuriatingly attractive. Because damn it, he is. Everything about Blaine is attractive, even his stupid triangle-shaped eyebrows that make Sebastian smile in the middle of the night when he thinks about them too much, or his thick eyelashes his mother pays for monthly beauty appointments to get. Or his eyes, which aren’t green, but not brown either. They’re something like molten gold. His voice. He wasn’t lying when he said he sang like a dream. Everything about Blaine Anderson is a dream, and it’s starting to itch far too deeply under his skin.

At this point, it’s almost a need for him to talk to Blaine, to listen to him, to understand and help him. Because yes, even his problems are attractive to him. He wants to hear him, to be the reason he’s calm. And he doesn’t know how to feel about that. Because Blaine is taken. And not by him. And he doesn’t like that.

Still, he believes, beneath the games and the teasing, that there’s something there. That Blaine looking at him like that, not pulling away when he’s close enough to see the green and brown blend in his eyes, means something. But maybe he’s already ruined it.

“It’s not that easy,” Blaine’s voice echoes in the empty space.

It takes Sebastian a second to catch up with what he himself asked a few minutes ago.

“An answer could be,” he replies without thinking too much. If he’s pushing too far, he might as well take advantage of that burned bridge.

“And then what?”

“We’ll deal with it.” He shrugs and stands up, brushing his palms against his pants.

“I think you know the answer.” Blaine’s voice grows closer as Sebastian walks toward him. So does the tension. He can literally feel Blaine shiver just a few steps away.

“Maybe I want to hear it,” he presses.

“Honestly?” Blaine asks, turning to face him just as Sebastian reaches him. “I’m afraid the outcome would be the same. Dalton or not.”

Sebastian stops breathing. It’s not a concrete or specific answer. Hell, he doesn’t even know if it benefits him. But the look in Blaine’s eyes might be telling him more than he can decipher right now.

“And I don’t know what that makes me,” Blaine adds, his tone defeated. Sadness shines in his eyes, and something twists painfully in Sebastian’s stomach.

And he supposes he can add two and two now. His chest swells with pride, but what overtakes him most is that uncomfortable feeling in his gut. “Someone with good taste?” he tries to joke, but maybe that’s exactly what was needed to burst the bubble. He mentally kicks himself.

But Blaine is used to it, so he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Remind me why you’re my best friend?”

Sebastian’s eyebrows shoot up. He didn’t expect that. It’s definitely more than he deserves. “Friend zone, killer? Ouch.”

And it’s exactly the right thing to say. Light, a joke, one he knows Blaine appreciates amid all the tension and doubt.

“I have a lot of things to figure out before I give you a new status,” Blaine says, hiding truths behind his relaxed tone.

“I guess you’re lucky that you’re also my best friend,” Sebastian replies with a shrug, resuming his steps to follow Blaine.

“Lucky me.” Blaine’s shoulders lift as he lets out an amused huff.

Sebastian does the same and agrees. “Lucky us.”

They leave the building, heading toward Sebastian’s car.