is that–lace?

Elliott was mortified. Honest to god mortified – he wasn’t happy with his body at the best of times, so to be caught like that? There was a thud as the fabric he was holding fell on the floor, his hand going limp as it did so. At the same time, a deep red blush stemmed all the way up, spanning across his jaw and down his chest.

“Yeah…” Without taking his eyes off Blaine he reached behind him, hand wrapping in the plaid shirt he’d left there and pulling it on over his shoulders, letting it hang open. “I can uh, I can see that.“ Elliott rubbed awkwardly at his neck, uncomfortable with the situation. "Can you quit staring?” He blurted that out without thinking about it, looking away and blushing deeper. “I-sorry, I…please?”

Blaine’s mouth moved like a fish out of water as soon as it was pointed out that he was staring. He didn’t mean it that way!  Mostly!  Staring at Elliott’s eyes was a way of guaranteeing himself that he wouldn’t look elsewhere.  In his attempt not to make things awkward.  Guess what he did?  Only made them worse.  “Sorry!  Sorry!  I didn’t–oh.  Just..sorry.”

Tearing his gaze off Elliott–first to the ceiling–then to the wall–then snap!  Right into his own lap–Blaine nodded.  His cheeks puffed out as he groaned.  With a puff of exhaled air and a quick touching of his feet to the floor–Blaine stood up.  “I’m going to go make tea or–tea.  Tea’s great. He not so gracefully excused himself out of the room with a duck to the left, pivot to the right and a beeline straight towards the kitchen feeling a rush of heat over his face, down his throat. Who knows?  With this level of embarrassment?  It might not stop til it went all the way to his toes.