The entire room was decked out in so much pink and red, he felt like he was stuck inside one of those ads for those love sex motels out in the Poconos. Yes, it was a Valentine’s Day but did they really have to make the entire place look like a kleenex box he decorated in fifth grade for his classmates to stuff cheap store bought cards into? Wow, his mood was sour. Blame it on his favorite holiday taking a swing back to GAP Attack status. Thank God the bartender behind the bar didn’t seem to care the slightest about how fake an i.d. looked judging by the glasses of wine he saw Santana and Quinn flashing earlier.
They inspired him to give his own try a go. Two glasses of merlot to nurse away smiling through his song on stage and he was just on the okay this is getting better side of a mood change thanks to the inspiration of the contents of his glass. And his newfound company that saddled up to the bar beside him. The crowd was starting to die out. Two by two, Blaine watched his friends disappearing towards the lobby of the hotel towards points rather obvious. Non-stop jokes and sardonic comments from Puck had him laughing at the latest and greatest. A nonchalantly spoken, ‘I’d totally fuck you,’ to his comment about how he and Puck were doomed to be the only ones gettingunlucky tonight and how unfair it truly was.
The chuckle died out on his tongue when he noticed that Puck was watching him, his eyes still lit up with his own half-laugh until neither one of them were laughing anymore. Their eyes met (because Blaine caught himself staring not at the twinkle he admired a beat ago but the way Puck’s mouth was curved–what was going on in Puck’s mind?)–he did not expect his stomach to feel like he’d just went over the rest of the world’s tallest rollercoaster. Free-falling and light as air. Just like the tone of his voice when he heard himself say..
“I..um.. I have a room..” Loop one put his heart in his throat. Yes, he just said that..
In less than a couple of weeks, Jesse Saint James managed to become a staple in Blaine’s usually closed off and comfortably repetitive (but not so much anymore thanks to a certain someone) day-to-day. The recent resurfacing of a face from his past had come completely out of the blue and Blaine was in no way, shape, or form ready for Ohio to close in again since he’d done a pretty superb job of putting as much distance between him and what used to be home as he could. Years have gone by and he’d finally convinced himself he moved on from there and everything about it.
Enter someone he least expected? Reminding him of the future he’d told his teenage self was a pipe dream best left somewhere between Westerville and his first flight to New York City. At first? All Blaine could do was laugh, shake his head and tell him he’d keep in touch. When he walked out of the coffee shop that night? Empty promise. Keeping in touch was the last thing on his mind. Until he was awake at four o’clock in the morning and it was the only thing.
He called the number Jesse insisted on typing into his phone two days later..
Jump forward to now? Lunches before work became dinners after. Dinners became night caps. Night caps became someone to talk to at a quarter past two because he hasn’t left and you haven’t told him he needs to. When you’ve been left alone for years lying to yourself that you didn’t miss something like this, something like this becomes way too nice. So you don’t stop it three nights in a row. And they start to talk about everything.
Including dating life. Why they’re both single. How long it’s been since he’s even had someone to make out with after work cause drunk guys are sloppy and not his thing. A dry spell as dusty as the desert. That’s where he’s been. “At least we both get what that’s like. Misery loves company. Sorry for you, though. Not something I’d wish on anyone. But with the menu I’ve had? I think I’m just destined to go solo on that front forever..” He was only half joking
I’d totally fuck you.
That record scratch screech in movies? Yeah that happened in Blaine’s brain. The reflection of Jesse in the mirror behind him as he combed still damp hair back stole his attention so hard his hands were still in the air as he shot back. “Oh? You would? Sure. Prove it..” The splash of warmth in his stomach and how hard his Adam’s apple bobbed when he forced himself to swallow the realization that his tongue just betrayed him made his brain misfire even worse. Slack lips parted around words that didn’t come. Slick. Real slick. Good job.
“A Tony? There’s no way. I mean the show’s great but..I don’t know.. …You think I have a chance?”
Of course you do. Are you kidding? You’re the best there is. And it’s Sunset Boulevard. Besides. If you do—?
“Ouch! Bow tie’s too tight! Little looser, please? Thank you.. Wait. If I do…??”
I’d totally fuck you the second you hear I’m right.. I don’t care where we are, Mister Hummel-Anderson. How’s that for proof that I’m positive your name is gonna be on that list?
That night Blaine sang Joe Gillis so hard if he hadn’t sealed the deal before? His vocal cords swore to God they better have made the cut. It might have been an unnecessary amount of goading on a Tony’s behalf. Seeing as how they were never a pair to hold out on each other when it came to those antics. But why not make sure a.) he was going to win and b.) well..b would just be the icing on top of a cake he was working harder than he’s ever worked in his life to finally be able to get a taste of.
They’d been inside Blaine’s dressing room for less than ten minutes before half his clothes were pooled on the floor at his feet. To be fair? So were Kurt’s. Fast kisses and desperate-to-get-you-naked hands turned into longer, deeper strokes of tongues against one another and delicate caresses over his undershirt and up over Kurt’s cheeks. Breathless from darting off the stage and being drug past everyone before his back was pressed against the black painted door plastered with posters and flyers from his show, Blaine hummed into another round of kisses before pulling back and letting them both swallow down a few gulps of air.
Kurt’s cologne filled his nose, he could taste a small hint of it on the roof of his mouth from where his lips grazed over his pulse point, too. Sweet and spice and summer. Half a dozen walls between them and the theater made the noise from the dwindling music muffled and yet it felt like it was just outside the door. The notes permanently flowing through his veins now. Like they melted with his DNA months ago. Maybe that’s why tonight was the show. A celebratory performance for the night the word Tony Nominee was mentioned in the news with his name behind it. There was a crowd building outside, however. Well wishing fans who couldn’t wait to tell him how happy they were in person. He wouldn’t keep them waiting. Not for long, anyway.
But first..this…
Blaine found out the news right before hitting the stage. Kurt arrived ten minutes into the show and his intermission was filled with an on the spot interview that kept them from seeing one another until Kurt’s hand was on his wrist and they were here doing this. A ‘congratulations’ and ‘I love you’. About six of them exchanged and thanked for in various ways ranging from teeth over skin to a sigh of the actual words later? He couldn’t help grinning and taunting Kurt with a reminder of a promise made months ago when the rumor was fed his way that this was even a REAL possibility. “And what did you say you’d do if I got nominated again? Just to make sure we both remember,” he was grinning but his fingers were unlatching Kurt’s belt as a brow playfully jerked up making it clear that before they went out there? They were going to have their own celebration in here first. A promise is a promise.
( mssg » marley | sent) Good morning, Marley! ( mssg » marley | sent) I was hoping I could catch you before the day got too busy. ( mssg » marley | sent) Would you like to join me for coffee at the Lima Bean? ( mssg » marley | sent) I just got here and there’s a table with our name on it. My treat?
( mssg » marley | sent) Could you bring some more of your music with you? I’ve had a few melodies in my head and it’d be great to fit some lyrics in with them. What do you think?
( mssg » kurt | sent) The things you can say when you don’t plan on saying them at all. ( mssg » kurt | sent)
I know I’m going to end up deleting this and never sending it but I had to get this out of my system somehow. ( mssg » kurt | sent) Not even sure this is your number anymore. Not that it matters since I’m typing this out just to say things I can’t say to you. ( mssg » kurt | sent) I miss you, Kurt. ( mssg » kurt | sent) It’s been so long and I still miss you. ( mssg » kurt | sent) Guess that says a lot about some of the people in your life just never being meant to go away. Even if you think they are at the time. If they keep popping up in your head and that sinking feeling creeps in? Then what’s that say? ( mssg » kurt | sent) Either way. I never forgot you. I don’t think I ever could. ( mssg » kurt | sent) I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Please don’t ever feel lonely. Because even though I’m not there? I guess you never really are alone.
( a very brief pause.. )
( mssg » kurt | sent) I think I just made a big mistake.
( mssg » kurt | sent ) Please tell me I’m not the only one stuck in that ‘half awake/half asleep because I can’t turn my brain off’ mode at 1:24 in the morning?
( mssg » kurt | sent ) I haven’t been able to shut it down since that thunderstorm rolled through earlier. I swear this house makes everything ten times louder. I guess it’s because it’s so quiet. ( mssg » kurt | sent ) Or if you managed to sleep through that? ( mssg » kurt | sent )
I not only love but envy you and I’ll talk to you in the morning.
The whole lot of them went deadly silent when the bottle spun around to the blond who happened to be the only one not wearing any sort of Dalton colors whatsoever. Blaine had asked Sam to make another trip to Westerville for the weekend. Their conversation the last time he visited, though he was still sleepless most nights laying in bed trying to feel and remember first hand all the things Sam told him about them, gave Blaine more hope that he still was who he was before the incident. They’d been separated by what happened that night in the worst way possible. Short of one of them not making it. They both did but the cost was one of them having a virtual press of the restart button on everything they were to one another. While one got the chance to remember it all.
Still. Blaine couldn’t get Sam out of his head from that night on. He’d been drawn to look at every photo on his phone that Sam sent him on repeat. Before class, after class. Sometimes during class much to his disappointment when one of those peeks cost him his phone for the rest of the day at the beginning of the week. Warblers practices were even becoming a distraction from the daily phone calls he made as soon as he knew classes were out at McKinley.
Sam was a gateway. Back to himself. Back to everything he’d been missing. But he was more than that, too. Sam was a good guy. No. A great guy. One that Blaine knew his life would’ve been much darker without. Even if he was left in the dark of who he was to him for the rest of his life? It’d been a life much more cloudy and not so happy without Sam Evans in it. No matter where he got his new beginning, the footing wouldn’t have been as steady without Sam there to have his back. It was only logical that the very next weekend, Blaine wouldn’t take no for an answer when he extended the invite. Thankfully, Sam made sure he didn’t have to by jumping at the chance to join them.
By late Saturday night, the party had lead them to this moment. Blaine’s fingers shook as he reached back and shut the closet door. Still not a peep. Not a whisper from the peanut gallery of Warblers and girls from Crawford Country Day that’d cackled for each pairing up until now. What did they all know? What did they see? Surely their silence had to mean more than the simple fact that Blaine always seemed to change the subject when it came to who his first kiss was. Not only because of him possibly not remembering it but because he was pretty sure it never happened. Or did it? Another one of those late night thoughts.
Here they were now. Alone. Just the two of them. Blaine could hear himself swallow, hear the sound of his throat working against the pounding of his heart thudding in his eardrums. “Sammy,” he found his hand in the dark and in one single motion had their fingers tangled together. All the want and ache that’d been building up since he was told the truth had him bursting at the seams. His heels were off the ground and he didn’t hesitate, not even a flinch, before he captured Sam’s lips with his own. If only to pour out a little bit of the emotions that were threatening to swallow him up if he didn’t let go of them. He had to take a chance. Had to know what it was like. If it ended in a second, it ended. But at least he could rest having tried to give it his all and he did.
apollo has been variously recognized as a god of music, truth and prophecy, healing, the sun and light, plague, poetry, and more. the twin brother of Artemis. he is loyal, fierce, and headstrong. despite traits such as impulsiveness, he is rather intelligent and graceful.
FAMOUS LAST WORDS. At least when he was in this good of a mood; plus it being Blaine didn’t hurt either. Another LATE NIGHT conversation turned into a teasing ridiculous that had him laughing out clouds of smoke, coughing and shoving against Blaine with an impossible to hold grin that felt like a friendly shut the fuck up for the past two hours; if only so the seer in his throat and the ache in his lungs would stop because he kept being made to laugh unexpectedly. Blaine knew about far too much but he’d secretly collected it all through moments like this, spent under the stars, in his bed literally just talking, on the L, lost in a tangle throughout the city doing WHATEVER IT WAS they did. Which changed an awful lot, but he liked it.
WELL. IF BLAINE DARED HIM. “Sorry, Anderson.” Lip managed out, slipping down the windshield of a random car he’d deemed worthy to lay on for the past two hours. His feet met the hood and he stood up, turning back to look at him while his hands found the bottom of his shirt. RUTHLESSLY tugging it up over his head. It was at that point he whipped it over to Blaine in the flick of his arm, collectively covering his face for a second until it was tugged off. And by that point, Lip’s pants were already unbuckled and pooling around his shoes… Which he didn’t think through because … He was stepping out of his shoes and pants, nothing more than his socks and boxers, though they’d be slipped off momentarily. “Thing about that is, uh, kinda dare you to too.” Live a little, he egged; full well knowing that Blaine didn’t get up to much mischief stuck in Ohio. All said as he was stepping on the toes of his socks, pulling those off too because where he was going, he didn’t need socks.
“Last one back here gets’ta take my shift at Patsy’s tomorrow.” Oh he was fighting dirty, especially now that Sierra was icing him out for GHOSTING. Even though he’d just been busy. “How you feel about bein’ a dish rat?” If he didn’t feel good about it, he better get fucking moving because shamelessly, his boxers dropped and the stupid smirk on his face had cemented the wager. There was no room for an argument while he turned and jumped off the car and onto the sidewalk beneath the shadows of the trees. “You ever washed a dish in your life?” A teasing taunt to ensure he wasn’t in this alone. “Better hurry up unless you wanna bail me out.” But that was yelled over his shoulder as he was sprinting through the trees, Buckingham Fountain his targeted destination, though he was a ways off, which gave Blaine time to have a chance but only if he hurried the fuck up.
What, did Blaine really think streaking and a four am swim was out of the realm of possibility?
Oh! Oh no! Oh wait! This was bad! This was so bad! Like! Get them ARRESTED bad! A trend that hanging out with Lip seemed to be begging for it to happen at least once. And if his father back in Westerville (or wherever he was currently staying on business) got the ‘Your son needs bail money’ call in the wee hours of the morning? There would never be a moment in Blaine’s life where his achievements would erase that from happening. Never. Like. NEVER. What was he thinking when he blurted out something like that? Of course Lip would rise (or drop trou as it were) to the occasion! Careful what you wish for. Careful what you dare someone who lives life so fearlessly that it constantly walks the line of freedom in ways Blaine could never imagine were so attainable if you let go and what had to be some form of an undiagnosed psychosis of not giving a damn that was both admirable and terrifying.
“I didn’t mean! You can stop! You can TOTALLY stop!” Blaine slammed his hand over his mouth like he could wipe away the words he blurted out and make this all stop. His head bobbed with Lip’s movements as he started toeing off his shoes. The dare thrown back at him was about as expected (thus the supreme OH NO moment) as the pending sunrise but it still made Blaine’s hand rip from his mouth and wave around in the air like he could bat away the words with a swat or two of his hands. “I…!” The fountain felt like a way too close pool of cold damnation waiting for him to take a dive. There went Lip’s socks and the dare that was also a challenge for him to rise up, put his money where his mouth was and LIVE some hit him like a ton of bricks.
So did the threat that he’d have to work Lip’s shift tomorrow. There was no fuel that could fire his inner passion to suddenly strip down to his boxers in the middle of the night than the threat of slaving over a sink for an entire day. No one had ever seen Blaine Anderson strip down to next to nothing as fast as he did just then. His sweater went over his head, his undershirt hit the bench on the sidewalk not three feet from the car he tossed it at and fell off. No time to jump down and pick! Not when his belt was jingling as he unfastened it and his tight fitting chinos were tanked down toned legs and kicked off with his Sperry’s so bare feet were. His eyes briefly flared wide when Lip lost the boxers, too. He was, seriously, going for broke.
Bare ass shining in the moonlight–there went Lip Gallagher in all his glory..
With Blaine gaining speed–no pants, no boxers, nothing but his birthday suit and a hell of a fast pair of legs darting across the grassy patch in hopes of bypassing Lip out of sheer shock value as a cheat if he had to.
Blaine’s heart felt like it might crumble to dust as he watched Hunter getting ready to leave. His body was too tired, too melted into the sheets to barely move an inch and yet Hunter had the strength to get out of bed, gather his things together and begin to get dressed. They couldn’t be any more different in their positions. For the most of the night their opposites were what made them whole. Made them move together in ways that were perfectly suited to one another. But now? In the aftermath? Blaine tilted his head against the pillow and grabbed a fistful of the sheet and blanket that were pooled near his waist and tugged it up his chest halfway before he whispered the plea that had been going through his mind faster and faster the closer Hunter became to being finished. The closer he came to walking out the door.
“Could you stay with me – just until i fall asleep?” The question that could change everything. Bring them to a level that, in spite of so many they’d reached that were beyond intimate and beyond any words that you could put to such a thing, they’d never dared trespass. Blaine needed to. Needed him to stay. Plenty of times before, he needed that closeness and comfort to last throughout the night. Never once did he have the nerve to voice it. Tonight. He had. And now he cringed waiting for Hunter to explain to him why that couldn’t happen. Why he was being foolish to think it could. To think Hunter might want him beyond what they were when what they were was beyond anything Blaine could ever do without. When he looked at it. Maybe he wanted Hunter to need him as much as he needed him. For that closeness to be so important that walking away would feel like walking on glass.
He had an careful repeat of his plea with reasoning behind it on the tip of his tongue. Hunter’s initial reply made him dread that his worst fear was about to happen. But then the bed was sagging and Hunter was climbing up over him, their eyes met and Hunter’s were soft. That softness was what made Blaine belong to Him more than anything else. “All day? With you,” he grinned and hummed just as playfully, “Anyone who said that about you doesn’t know how to handle you. That’s all. I’ll cook us breakfast. Lunch. I’ll…give you more than a little fun.” His cheeks flushed with the promise. Then his demeanor turned more gentle, more serious as he caught the real meaning behind Hunter’s questions and reached one hand up to cup his cheek and pull him back for another kiss, smiling at his favorite name right before their lips met. “Yes. I’m very certain that is what I want. If you’ll give it to me. I promise. I’d never want you to leave again.” Another caress that swept into the hair above Hunter’s ear. “Please..stay?”
pianokeysandbowties back up 