sebastian.

One eyebrow raised in curiosity at Blaine’s first statement. Sebastian sensed a feeling of anxiety and he relished in the thought of it. “I mean, with an ass like that you’re hardly ever showing up empty handed, Blaine. But I do appreciate the gesture,” his swagger enriched his words. Blaine was quite cute when he was flustered. Sebastian always enjoyed bringing it out of him. The cute school boy look really got him going. Sometimes, if he thought about it, he always found himself interested in those who aren’t like him. Those who haven’t been hurt, and taken advantage of him like him. Something about purity interested him.

What wasn’t there between the two that wasn’t a perfect match? Both have nice houses. Money. Obvious homosexual attraction. At least Sebastian inferred as much. As far as arranged marriages go they’d be a hitch, minus the both male aspect. “We could always test your hand at some French recipes. I’ve the ingredients and will for a mean Steak Diane. Totally romantic, if you ask me. And I’m talking about after we cook, handsome.”

Blaine didn’t say anything to the comment about him bringing his rear end–which was unavoidable since he was literally attached to it–would never have him arriving empty handed. In the short amount of time he’d been getting to know Sebastian–he figured out one fact within a few short visits.  Taunting him seemed to be one of Sebastian’s favorite things and how he talked was part of who he was.  What came out of his mouth at any given time had to be some weird compulsion he couldn’t resist.  The filter between Sebastian’s brain and his tongue didn’t exist.  From what Blaine guessed?  Sebastian was born without one.  It was how he was wired. And if Blaine wanted to be his friend–he was going to have to get used to hearing the most far out there things ever tossed his way.  The sooner, the better.  If he could get his face under control and stop lighting up like a wildfire was on his skin every time it happened?  That’d be nice.  So far?  He had yet to learn that trick.  

Catching sight of a painting in the hall that captured his attention–and was used as a means of trying to get his blush under control–Blaine pivoted on his heel as they passed it walking backwards to eye the colors on the canvas with an uneven smile.  “I think I could try out a French recipe.  Should be rather easy compared to Filipino.  By easy–I mean bland.  Isn’t that the stereotype,” he flashed Sebastian a taunting grin now that his cheeks cooled off and turned back around to follow him to the kitchen like someone over five years old should.  “Let’s give it a try.  Far as where we go after?  I–ahh,” his palm cupped the back of his head and he shrugged causing that bent elbow to lift.  “Wherever is fine with me.  As long as there’s enough room to go over song lists. Where do you keep your notes?  We can go over them while we eat.”