Work Text:
Of course Sebastian had thought about the possibility of meeting Blaine Anderson again one day. Endlessly, in fact, to an extent that he had to forcibly tell himself to stop because he had said goodbye to him and he had meant it. Blaine could be anywhere in the world, with anyone, and Sebastian had no way of knowing. If there was one level he would not allow himself to stoop to, it would be googling him.
However, when his mother died in the summer after his junior year, he decided a change of scenery would be good for him, and went on to secure a transfer to the University of California, where he would complete his college career. Suddenly, there seemed a significantly larger chance of him bumping into Blaine; as much as he reminded himself, yet again, not to dwell on it.
The first thing that struck Sebastian was how different he looked; even from the back. It was still Blaine - still that lean, compact frame, and tiny little waist highlighted by the tightness of his shirt and the drape of sweatpants over his hips. His shoulders had broadened a little, his hair almost completely free of product but still not unruly. And the eyes - when Blaine whirled around and lit up at the sight of his old friend - the eyes were most definitely still the same.
“I thought I’d never see you again!” Blaine beamed, hands on his hips as he stared at him in awe from across the room.
“Sorry to disappoint,” Sebastian chuckled, unconsciously rubbing at his wrist, covered as it was by his shirt. He’d been meticulously keeping the tattoo out of sight for years by that time, but he would have to be even more careful about it since it appeared he’d be rooming with the very man whose name was inked upon his wrist.
Blaine huffed, leaping across the room in a few bounds and flinging himself at Sebastian; the taller dropping his bag to grab hold of his waist tightly. He let out a soft sigh, his eyes fluttering closed just for a moment. He still smelt like Blaine too; that fruity tang underlined by something deeper and more inherently masculine.
He pulled back a little, dropping back down onto his heels, still looking at Sebastian as if he’d just come back from the dead, as opposed to the other side of the Atlantic ocean. Sebastian’s eyes flickered momentarily to his full, pink lips and tried desperately not to remember how they’d felt against his in that one brief second back in the McKinley High choir room three years previously.
“You look different,” Blaine commented, head tilted in thought. He reached a hand up to run his hand over the scratch of stubble across Sebastian’s jaw. “It’s very French.”
Sebastian chuckled, ducking his head a little. It wasn’t a beard as such; his facial hair had come out too fine for him to ever really manage to grow one. But it was a definite something, born more about of laziness than anything else. Well, that and because Blaine had once happened to mention back in the Lima Bean that he found the right amount of facial hair “ruggedly handsome”. Not that Sebastian remembered that, of course. That would be absurd.
“I like it,” Blaine murmured before dropping down to pick up Sebastian’s bag and move it further into the room.
Sebastian followed after him, his gaze dropping to Blaine’s left hand, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. As much as he didn’t necessarily want to bring the conversation to Kurt this early on, it did seem to be the biggest elephant in the room. Well, that and the fact that the last time they’d seen one another, he’d confessed to being in love with Blaine.
“I half expected you to be a married man by now,” Sebastian joked feebly, settling down on the edge of his bed and kicking off his shoes with a tired hum.
“Ah, right,” Blaine sighed, flopping onto his own bed. “Long story short? I proposed. He told me he was moving in with Mr Essex from NYADA.”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, regarding him closely. “That’s a pretty dick move, even for Hummel.”
Blaine shrugged, folding his legs up underneath him gracefully. “It’s been three years. I’ve been over it for a while.” He worried his lip for a moment, fiddling with a loose thread on his sweatpants. “Besides, I was too young to be even be talking about getting married. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”
Sebastian just nodded, pressing the pad of his thumb against where he knew the B of the tattoo lay on his arm. It was a habit he’d had for years, just a touch to the name on his wrist reassuring him in some unexplainable way. Few had ever picked up on it, even fewer had commented, and those that did were the ones Sebastian would trust to tell the real story to. ‘Fewer’ came down to his late mother and his roommate for the past three years, a wild half Italian, half Frenchman named Anton with a penchant for exotic coffee beans. It had been an interesting experience to live with him, to say the least.
“Do you want to go get breakfast?” Blaine asked suddenly, his whole face brightening again.
Sebastian looked up, glancing at his watch which he was almost positive he had changed to Pacific time as he’d meant to. “It’s four in the afternoon.”
Blaine laughed, a whole body laugh that Sebastian could see even in the muscles in his stomach through the thin cotton of his shirt. “I forget you’re a newbie around here. There’s this diner round the corner that does all day breakfast. Best pancakes in the world.”
Sebastian snorted, casting him a skeptical look. “Blaine, I’ve lived in Paris,” he reminded him with a smirk.
“Oh, crepes is a whole other ball game,” Blaine dismissed with a wave of his hand as he got up and grabbed his keys. “I’m talking big, fat, buttery American pancakes with so much syrup you think you’ll die.”
If the growl his stomach gave in response to that description wasn’t enough to convince Sebastian, then the gleeful look on Blaine’s face definitely was.
“Let’s go,” he grinned, following after Blaine with a fond shake of his head. And if he let himself admire how pert and round Blaine’s ass still was three years later? Well, he was only human.
*
To some extent, it was unsurprising that Blaine and Sebastian became so close again. They’d been friends for a while back in high school and if it hadn’t been for all the drama caused by his boyfriend at the time, they likely would have stayed that way. Sebastian had always appreciated how open he felt he could be around Blaine, and the fact that the other clearly felt the same. They could - and would - talk about basically anything. The tattoo, however, remained Sebastian’s secret, and they had not spoken one word of the confession from that day three years ago.
It was Halloween when things changed significantly for the two. They’d been invited to a party held by some boys from Blaine’s music history class, with various other people both of them knew attending otherwise. The party was costume-optional, something Blaine considered an indignity; Sebastian, a blessing, especially given he was working on finishing a paper right up to ten minutes before they left for it.
Sebastian was just closing up his laptop when Blaine emerged from the bathroom, clad head to toe in shiny black lycra - tight, fuck, it was so tight.
“What exactly are you supposed to be?” Sebastian spluttered, his eyes trailing up the length of his toned legs, the trim of his waist, the breadth of his shoulders. Turn around, he commanded silently, his mind brimming with the possibilities of Blaine’s ass in that costume.
Blaine hummed happily, reaching for a pair of cat ears that were sitting on his nightstand and setting them on his head. “I’m Catman!” he grinned proudly.
“Uh-huh,” Sebastian murmured, a little distracted by the outline of Blaine’s cock.
“Eyes front and centre, Smythe,” Blaine winked. “We have a party to attend.”
*
Sebastian wasn’t drinking heavily, a few beers here and there. Partially because he didn’t want to end up doing something he’d regret in the morning simply because his ongoing “get over Blaine” plan was being thwarted by black lycra, of all things. But also partially because Blaine was drinking, and drinking, and drinking, and someone was going to have to look after him.
“Dance with me,” Blaine purred in Sebastian’s ear, dragging him onto the makeshift dance floor despite his protests.
“Blaine, you’re drunk,” Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head slightly as Blaine all but suctioned his body to his own.
Blaine ignored him, grinning up at him devilishly. “Do you like my costume?” he asked, suddenly looking innocent as he batted his eyelashes slowly.
Sebastian swallowed dryly, resting his hands at what he considered a safe level on Blaine’s hips. “It’s..great.”
Blaine’s hands had moved to his cheeks, thumbs rubbing over the curve of his jaw. “Bet this feels amazing when you’re sucking someone off,” he whispered, so quiet Sebastian nearly didn’t catch it.
Blaine ignored Sebastian’s obvious surprise at his comment; instead leaning up a bit, eyes fluttering closed as he moved. And Sebastian froze.
“No, Blaine. You’re drunk,” he whispered, letting his arms fall to his sides and turning his head away from him a little.
“So?” Blaine snapped, glaring up at him. “Or aren’t you still in love with me?” he sneered.
It took Blaine all of ten seconds to realise he’d crossed a line, let his anger at being rejected get the better of him for even a moment too long.
“Sebastian, wait,” he yelled as he pushed through the crowd, running after his friend. “I didn’t mean it like that, I promise, I-”
“I’m trying not to be,” Sebastian murmured, scuffing his toe into the grass as they stood out on the front yard; the sounds of the party sounding far further away than they actually were. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Blaine protested, taking a step closer to him. “I didn’t mean it just as a.. I’ve really liked becoming your friend again, Bas. I really like, well..you.”
Sebastian glanced up, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” Blaine murmured, taking another step towards him, tripping over his own feet and ending up face first on the grass.
Sebastian sighed, looking down at the boy with a fond smile. “Come on, you,” he chuckled, leaning down and to pick him up, tossing him over the shoulder. “We’ll talk about this in the morning, Catman.”
*
With some difficulty, Sebastian did manage to get Blaine into bed - although he left the removal of the costume to him, sure that even a better man than him would not be able to resist otherwise.
He’d just turned the light out and curled up on his side when he heard the rustle of sheets, followed by a thump.
“Ow,” Blaine mumbled, the sound a little muffled.
“Blaine?” Sebastian asked to the dark room, reaching out for the lamp on the nightstand when he didn’t get a reply.
Blaine had ended up on the floor, twisted in his duvet, the top of his head just poking out of the top. “I fell out,” Blaine grumbled, his feet kicking aimlessly at the other end.
“You are hopeless,” Sebastian groaned, leaving the warmth of his own bed to scoop him up in his arms once again.
“Maybe I should share your bed tonight, just to make sure I don’t fall out again,” Blaine suggested, beaming at him like he’d just solved one of the world’s greatest mysteries.
“Alright,” Sebastian relented, gently placing him in his bed and shuffling in next to him, wrapping an arm tight around his waist. “No getting handsy with me, Anderson.”
*
Blaine awoke first in the morning, the beginnings of a headache thrumming gently at the back of his skull. He yawned, snuggling into the warmth of Sebastian’s chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Sebastian stirred slightly, his arm tilting enough that Blaine could make out the word inked on his wrist. He ran his finger over the letters, deciding that yes, it definitely was a real, permanent tattoo.
Sebastian opened his eyes slowly, quickly snatching his wrist away as he realised what Blaine was doing. “I-I can explain, it-”
He was cut off as Blaine pressed his lips to his own, pulling away before he could even fully register what happened.
“I think you should try that again, I’m a little confused right now,” Sebastian mumbled, tugging him in for another kiss.
“You can explain over breakfast,” Blaine mumbled against his lips as they pulled apart, a dizzy grin tugging at both of their mouths.
“But it’s actually breakfast time, I feel like that breaks a fundamental rule,” Sebastian frowned, exhaling breathily as Blaine responded with another light kiss.
“The fundamental rule is that I’m hungry and therefore we should eat,” Blaine giggled, bumping their noses together.
Blaine made a soft humming noise, rolling over to rummage in the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a black marker pen. He pulled the cap off and carefully wrote something out on his arm, in cursive looping script. He showed his arm to Sebastian, the vibrant black writing of his name staring back at him.
Blaine turned to him with a flushed smile. “Now we match.”