“Okay, I gotta ask, did you guys have– like, a whole alter-ego figured out?” For all he knew, Cisco might be having some competition when it came to coming up with the best names. “Name, outfit, catchphrases, all that jazz…?” You would have thought he was actually making research, taking advantage of the situation to inspire some catchphrases of his own, seeing as his very own name and outfit were already taken care of and unlikely to be changed to anything else. But seeing how much Blaine seemed to like to be able to discuss that particular stage of his high school life, everything regarding the Flash was pushed aside and replaced by a genuine curiosity, not to mention a desire to see just how many more of that smile he could get out of him, which needless to say would be a reward on its own. “I– Yeah.” He awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “I kinda… fell earlier, so.” And tripping and falling at the speed he was going meant rolling on the wet pavement for a block or two, which probably explained why he looked like he had just taken a swim with his clothes on. At least his phone had gone by miraculously unharmed. “I thought I could just run home and I wouldn’t need my umbrella, but I was wrong. When I got back up, I took it out and everything but it was kinda late by then.” He crossed his arms over his chest, partly to provide himself with the warmth his soaked clothes were absorbing right out of him, mostly because he was slowly beginning to shrink as much as his standing position allowed out of mere embarrassment. “Oh? Well– No, it’s… It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine,” he assured as he shook his head no, for something about agreeing to wear the clothes of a guy he had never even met, just like that and without said guy’s explicit consent -even though Blaine was second-handedly offering it himself, in a way- did not sound right to his own personal moral code. Then again, neither did leaving behind a puddle after having been standing on the same spot for over a few seconds. Which he currently was, he realized after glancing down at his own feet. “Uh… I mean, only if it’s not too much trouble.”
“We did. All of it,” Barry’s interest in his whole ‘superhero past’ made a stroke of nostalgia fill Blaine with an excitement that soon had him forgetting that the storm was worsening outside. A loud crack of thunder that shook the windows in their frames was the only thing to make him pause, glance towards the ceiling and blow out a breath. “Impressive,” he whispers before continuing on. “You should’ve seen mine. It took me weeks to make. Blue and black and very befitting for the name Nightbird,” he leaned in close with a wistful grin like he was sharing a secret no one was allowed to know. “I even had a symbol. Because–as you know–all superheros need a good symbol. Part of the gig. Right,” he asked leading him through the long hallway towards the set of stairs that abruptly curved after a small landing and continued to the second floor. “Looks like your plan on running home didn’t quite work out for you. Sorry about that.” Once at the top of them–Blaine gave him a smile and nodded his head down the hall gesturing for him to follow. “You don’t have much luck with storms. Do you? First holed up in a bookstore with me all night and now practically swallowed by mud puddles. Considering the day you’ve had? Getting you some clean, comfortable clothes is hardly what I’d call trouble.” The second door was open to a bedroom lit by an antique desk lamp that was left on. A flick of a switch lit the room in a myriad of other colors spreading out from the ceiling where a stained glass sconce came to life. “The laundry is downstairs by the kitchen. Go ahead and bring your things with you and we’ll toss them in.” A brief digging through a dark wooden dresser unearthed Cooper’s pants and one of his brother’s comfortably worn in black t-shirts. Cooper never seemed to run out of black, black and more black. They’d work. Tossing them on a chair sitting by the window–he stepped past Barry and glanced back up. “I’ll meet you down there. Get us some tea going after I find us candles in case this thing gets worse. If you need anything? Let me know.” And with that? Blaine made his way towards the door to let the poor man get out of his sopping wet clothes.
❝Mm.. Blaine.❞ he whispered in a moan as he felt the tickle of his fiance’s lips against him all while he remained to know there was a stiffness in his pants that couldn’t be ignored now that it had been started in the first place. That one little kiss through clothes was enough to assure Seb that he couldn’t ignore what was happening down there. It wasn’t an easy thing to do. Although the horror film was still playing, his attention had been turned completely to something else as fingers run through Blaine’s thick curls to grab lightly at a handful of hair. A heat began to shiver through his inner thighs as he began to wonder if this was all Blaine’s sneaky escape plan out of watching Halloween in the first place. Did Sebastian care at all? No. Now he just needed to have more, he would get more. The eerie music playing in the background almost perhaps intensified it for a reason. Hips push up just a little in a silent question of if he could truly have what he craved. ❝No stopping, baby. I need your mouth on me.❞ The other hand that wasn’t stroking Blaine’s hair shifted to grab his fiance’s hand and guide it to feel his erection through his jeans.
Sebastian’s voice tugs a groan from the pit of Blaine’s stomach as he squirms in closer pressing another series of soft kisses against the soft fabric of his fiance’s shirt. Noticing how Sebastian’s stomach caves as a mere peck through cotton sucks the breath out of him–Blaine can’t stop the devilish grin he hides by tipping his nose to touch where his kisses were peppered. He might not’ve started this as a diversion tactic to anyone other than himself. But he’d be hard pressed–no pun intended–to say he didn’t like where this was going. Much better than the blood bath going on behind them that he’d rather not think about. Not that his brain has a chance to focus on anything else as Sebastian takes a handful of his hair and pushes his hips up at the same time. “Sebastian,” he breathes over the small sliver of skin now revealed above his belt. His tongue teases along the pale line not lifting the hem or making any movement to bare more. If Sebastian is going to torture him? Blaine can and will torture back. “You do?” His eyes close as his hand is taken and guided to where Sebastian needs it most. Feeling how hard he is against his palm, thick lashes flutter as his eyes roll back behind his eyelids and his fingers curl down, squeezing him softly but not moving. “Then show me.”
// Oh gosh! You’re precious and adorable and life goals on being a literal honeybun cupcake. Like. There’s no secret that I want to hug you and never let go! You are a treasure that must be protected! ILY.
Isaac laughed and scratched his own nose. “You can poke my nose as much as you want.” He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. He raised an eyebrow at the boy. “Is there a reason you’re so baffled by my acceptance?” He wondered. After all, Isaac believed it was clear that he was interested.
“Fine. Open season on nose poking. Remember. You started this war,” he laughed lifting one foot to rest on the wall he leaned against. “Sorry. I was hoping it wasn’t that obvious.” Blaine shot an embarrassed grin up at the other boy. “Uhm. Let’s say it has nothing to do with you and more with the seriously bad stroke of luck I seem to not be able to turn around. Maybe today’s the day where things go on the upswing? If I got a date with you? That has to be the case.”
Connor’s grin remained on his lips – not that he was able to stop smiling towards the sight of the famous Blaine Anderson before him. He had heard so much about him. That he could sing like a dream, that he had moves that made everyone – men & women alike – fawn all over him. Quite the legion of fans he had. And Connor was a curious individual that needed to evaluate things with his own eyes rather than taking someone else’s opinion about the said person. His taste was far greater than anyone else around that boarding school – proof of that was how hideous those uniforms were, and he simply had to check for himself who this Blaine guy was. It would seem that the reports about him being talented weren’t just comments coming from perpetually horny teenagers.
Blaine was actually quite attractive. Big brown eyes, dark hair that matched his own… flustered pink cheeks and a smile to die for. And that ass? That ass was probably the material that legends were made of. Perfect and perky and Connor couldn’t help but to wonder how tight it would be. But then again, he thought about sex almost all day. It was hard not to when there was so many cute guys around for him to snatch and makeout with. The only problem he could see with Blaine was… his height. He was cute and adorable and he freaking resembled a damn pug with those big, pleading brown eyes.
How cute was that?
Connor cut the distance between them with a couple of steps and shamelessly – he had no idea what the word shame meant – took Blaine’s measures with his eyes in a way that almost revealed that he was undressing him in his mind. Maybe he had to give the rumours some credit. “I don’t know. Can you help me? I have a hard problem and I might require someone’s assistance to take care of it. I mean – if you think you possess the necessary skills to aid me, R2D2.”
“Sure. No forgiveness required but sure.”
Curiousness was quickly turning into something else the longer Blaine watched Connor’s expression and never–not even for a second–saw that grin falter. Self-consciousness began to creep in instead. Not to an apprehensive level by any means. Dalton was a safe place. But he couldn’t stop himself from wondering why he was beginning to feel like Connor had him under a magnifying glass and depending on what he discovered about him–or thought he did? The glass would either be lowered so Connor could see more. Or turned at the precise angle to catch enough sunlight and burn him to a crisp.
Touching the tips of his fingers to the polished black lip of the piano’s edge–Blaine stood his ground in spite of the growing sense of whatever this feeling growing inside of him was. Confusion? More than that. Fear? No–not really. But his heart was beating faster as he watched Connor come closer. His stomach felt like it shifted up several inches before plummeting down to the soles of his shoes and bounced back up.
Who was this guy? And what did he want?
Connor answered his question with a question. How lucky was he?
That’s when he realized what it was. No one ever looked at him the way he was being looked at right now. And he had no clue how to react to it other than stand his ground and not break eye contact. His jaw tightened and his head tilted–gaze darting back and forth questioningly over Connor’s. The piano’s reflection dulled under the heat coming from Blaine’s palm. Thank God, the other couldn’t see it. Still, no budge whatsoever from the Warbler. “I don’t know. I guess it would depend on what problem it is? If you’re willing to answer that question for real this time. You can call me Blaine by the way. And you are?”
Compassion hurts. When you feel connected to everything, you also feel responsible for everything. And you cannot turn away.
“Hey Blaine I have something kind of strange to ask you… Do you think I’d make a good warbler..? I’m not making any rash decisions or anything. It’s just that, I’m kind of sick && tired of being overlooked in the glee club. Even though I’ve been working on my singing, && I am the best dancer in the group. Plus I hear they have amazing academics at Dalton so it’d make my parents happy. I don’t know, it’s just a thought.”
“A Warbler? I–I mean. Sure. What team wouldn’t be lucky to have you as a member? Are you really thinking of transferring though? I know you’ve been working hard and I think you’ve only gotten better. Because you were never bad to begin with. You’re right. You are overlooked. But we can change that. Would you want to leave McKinley without trying first? All of your friends are here and it’s your senior year? I just don’t want you doing something you’ll regret later.”
// I got claimed by Fox. I got claimed by Fox! Yas! Though you do owe me some srs apologies for the butter scalp comment and your supreme enjoyment of it. However! I love you anyway! Always and 5ever, bb. Mine!
For someone who was still iffy about revealing the truth, Barry was rather eager to get a call from Blaine. He’s not sure what it is; It’s unlikely his morals are giving him a need to correct the situation, it’s not like he can be sure that they were ever really friends before when Blaine essentially didn’t know Barry at all. And wasn’t that just a sad truth.
When the call does come, Barry springs to his feet to get into another room, throwing a couch pillow at Hartley as soon as the other’s mouth opens with assumably another wisecrack about his high school sweetheart come back from the past– insert overdramatic sigh here. “Hey.” Barry answers.
Fingers nervous plucked at the hem of his cardigan as he listened to the ringing tone. –Please don’t let the voicemail pick up.– He was too excited to keep waiting for a chance to see Sebastian again. The days went by far too slow between their run in and him having enough free time to devote a good chunk of his evening to his old friend. Now that he had it? Blaine was brimming with eagerness and hoped that he wasn’t interrupting like he did the first night they saw one another.
His feet touched down onto the floor from the coffeetable they were resting on when Sebastian’s voice greeted him on the other end of the line. “Hey.” An ear to ear grin could be heard in Blaine’s voice. Though he was thankful that the warmth on his cheeks–and the color he knew it had to brush over his skin–couldn’t be seen. “So about that meet up? Would tonight be good? I’ve got an idea.”
pianokeysandbowties back up 