author's notes: written for my sweetie McCall : )
WHEN WE'RE TOGETHER;;
I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way (s)he handles three things:
a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.
—Maya Angelou
i.
(Sebastian)
It takes him six years to stop believing Santa's the one who delivers the Christmas tree to their house, decorations included. He skids into the living room on his socks one night, the new hardwood floors making it too hard to resist running in the house; he trips and nearly hurtles feet first into the large pineapple tree being set up in the lounge. Roger, the gardener, blinks down at him from the tall ladder he climbed, holding a cord on which colored lights hang at even distance from each other.
Their housekeeper Rosa scolds, "No running in the house!" and he sticks out his tongue, but carefully observes the rest of the process from afar, the gold garlands and matching ornaments, his mother's idea no doubt, the presents added near the end far more alluring.
After his parents' divorce there aren't any Christmas trees for a while, all the spirit gets lost in monetary settlements and his mom and dad assuring him he'd always have a home, but all he can see at the age of eight is a tree-less house and no presents, and he'd much rather scream than pretend everything's okay.
Years pass and both his parents get remarried, he gets a tree in Ohio and one in Paris and two stepparents to boot, but when his sister begs him to hang the Christmas lights because his legs are longer, he realizes he doesn't know the meaning of Christmas, not like other people in his life seem to. He lacks the patience to deal with tangled Christmas lights and ends up yelling at a four-year old. Not his proudest moment.
(Blaine)
Christmas has to be his favorite holiday. The days leading up to it are a great big adventure; they drive to and from the mall for last minute gifts, make grocery store runs to stock up on ingredients for cakes and pies and his mom's famous meatloaf – between the two of them they wreck the kitchen, it's stained floor to ceiling, but come Christmas Eve they present the most delicious meal that could easily sustain a small community.
He decorates the tree with his dad every year, it's a tradition they started once he grew tall enough to reach at least halfway up the tree – a week before Christmas they spend all day picking out the perfect one, list the pros and cons of each and every tree on the lot, and arrive home with one that satisfies his mom as well. The next day their morning will consists of unearthing all the decorations, old ornaments he and Cooper made in school, mismatching balls and swags in every color, but they add character.
The Christmas lights come untangled out of the box, ever since the incident of 1999 when Cooper had attempted to decorate the tree on his own, and tried adding the Christmas lights while they were plugged in, all in the hopes that it would miraculously disentangle them. Needless to say, ever since Cooper almost burned down their house, he and his mom had become pretty adamant about tidying them away properly.
(after)
Sebastian does it for Blaine, really. Blaine loves Christmas and it's their first Christmas living together, and even though they'll both head to Ohio to visit Blaine's parents he wants their shoebox apartment to reflect some of the holiday spirit Blaine worships so much. There's already a branch of mistletoe in the doorway to the bedroom, and a teddy bear with a Christmas hat Blaine claims he got for free sitting in between the couch pillows, all subtle hints at something he's smart enough to decipher.
So he goes all out; he buys a tree that looks somewhat decent, finds affordable decorations lest Blaine makes him return everything that exceeds their monthly budget, never you mind that he could cover most of their bills on his own. And in his defense, for a guy who's never set up a Christmas tree he does an excellent job; the tree stops wobbling once he adds the foot piece, he can clean the needles away later, and for safety's sake he opted for plastic ornaments.
The Christmas lights trip him up – he cringes every time one of the small bulbs pops out of the Styrofoam packaging, and once he's determined they're all in working order he somehow gets his foot snagged in a loop that wasn't there a second ago. He stands up and picks up the cord and for some inexplicable reason he decides to turn a few times, effectively wrapping him up.
When Blaine comes home sooner than expected Sebastian's convinced his boyfriend will have a panic attack, his eyes widening once he notices the wires running crisscross up and down his body. Blaine's bag drops to the floor, but instead of freaking out Blaine cartoonishly puts his hands on his cheeks and beams, "You got us a tree?" before making his way over and freeing him.
Christmas becomes a new experience for Sebastian; the eggnog Cooper spikes underneath the table, a family gathered for the sole purpose of being together and exchanging presents, and Blaine's hand tangled in his for most of the night.
Blaine will never let Sebastian near Christmas lights again, but paired with Sebastian's impatience he doubts he'll get many complaints.
ii.
(Sebastian)
He considers airlines some of the most unreliable companies in the world. After years of travelling by plane he learns a thing or two; clearly labeling his luggage went without question, bringing noise-cancelling headphones so he wouldn't have to listen to crying children or their mothers, wearing a hoodie for maximum comfort, he'd even found increasingly efficient ways to pack. He'd learned most of these the hard way, since he usually flew alone, but he'd gotten more equipped at air travel and all the hassles that came with it.
Yet every two years or so, at conspicuously clockwork intervals, one of his bags inevitably got lost. He'll be at baggage reclaim and see one of them appear, watch the carousel turn and turn until the hall emptied out, and his second suitcase never showed up. He'll cuss and curse in both English and French until one of the airline personnel needs to tell him to calm down, but once met with either his father or mother depending on which end they lost his luggage, said airline employee would realize he was the kinder Smythe.
Nothing plummets his mood like lost luggage, he'll spend days sulking and tweeting bad reviews about the airline, until his sister slaps at his arm and says, "Fais pas ton bébé", or a handsome stranger catches his eye across the dance floor at Scandals.
(Blaine)
Most people would consider him an anxious flier, but that's probably due to the fact that he's only flown twice in his life. He visited his aunt Valerie in Florida once, barely five years old and being tugged behind his mom as they rushed to get to the right gate on time. He doesn't remember much, he fell asleep in his father's lap halfway through the flight and upon landing his mom gave him hard candy to chew on to make his ears pop.
He visits his older brother Cooper for the first time in LA the summer before his senior year. It's been a long time coming and he looks forward to see Cooper's world up close and personal, and the promise of sunshine lifts his spirits just thinking about it. Then, somehow, the airline loses his suitcase for a good four days and he's forced to get by wearing the shorts he came in, and Cooper's shirts and underwear.
He laments the loss of his hair gel more than anything, Cooper's apartment starkly missing any sort of hair products, and he refuses to make due with the generic stuff he finds at the nearest grocery store. His curls blow wild and free and he refuses to pose for a single picture, and kisses his suitcase once it's returned to him.
(after)
The conveyor belt at baggage reclaim grinds to a screeching halt, the hall empty and abandoned but for the two of them, their hand luggage and one of two large suitcases that'd taken two whole days to pack. Sebastian had been adamant that they pack half their clothing in each bag in case one got lost, because apparently a curse lay on his baggage every two years or so. Blaine thought it ridiculous at the time, but now stood silently staring at a distinct lack of their last suitcase.
"I don't believe this," Sebastian mutters and stomps towards an airline employee to give the poor woman a piece of his mind. It takes Blaine several minutes to convince Sebastian this isn't the end of the world, their suitcase got labeled clearly and it's somewhere. They might as well head for the hotel and start exploring the city he'd been hearing about for the better part of two years.
But even as they're well on their way to the Champs-Élysées Sebastian will rant, "The lube was in there, Blaine, the fucking lube," and unearths his phone to compose a thinly veiled 140-characters long threat. Blaine snatches the phone from his hand and distracts him with a kiss, quickly melting the edges of Sebastian's annoyance.
Blaine will never stop travelling with Sebastian, not when his boyfriend gets annoyed at lost baggage, not even after he discovers Sebastian created a separate twitter account just to berate airline travel. But he'll always be sure to pack hair gel, lube and condoms in his carry-ons. Just in case.
Sebastian will never stop losing luggage, his twitter account will be the thorn in every airline's eye but the go-to place for weary travellers to take extra precautions with their luggage.
"Teach me some French," Blaine will whisper, but all he really learns in the following ten minutes is that French kissing underneath the Arc de Triomphe has already beat his top five vacation memories.
iii.
(Sebastian)
The rain never bothers him that much – it's an inconvenience at most, especially when he goes out for his morning run. Trent, the roommate he got stuck with despite having requested a single, will often scoff and mention there's a fully equipped gym on Dalton grounds and his tuition actually includes use of the facilities.
But between the fact that he'd never be caught dead on a treadmill, classes behind closed doors, and Warblers practice already exclusively taking place indoors, he preferred the luxury of fresh air, even when it rained. It wasn't ideal, he hated running with his hood up because it messed up his hair as much as the rain did, but nothing a quick shower couldn't remedy.
"Il pleut," his baby sister will whisper as they head out for coffee, hot chocolate and croissants for breakfast, her red shoes clicking on the wet cobblestones, Paris probably the one and only city that can make rain seem almost beautiful. His usual lack of sentimentality notwithstanding, Paris peels back a lot of his American veneer, he becomes more his mother's son than his father's heir, his French improves with each passing day and he can see the beauty in a rainy day.
(Blaine)
Days like these aren't his favorite, rain steadily marking the landscape as well as his mood. It's more than an inconvenience, he can't stand how damp his clothes get and the hallways at school become a minefield of tiny puddles to navigate, because his loafers are expensive and he won't risk getting the leather any wetter than it already got running from his mom's car to the school's front entrance. His mom drives him because the increased moisture in the air makes his curls entirely unmanageable, and he skips breakfast in favor of taking more bathroom time to tame them.
In Glee club he'll sing songs about the rain and coming clean until even Mr Schue loses his patience, mentions their lack of a finished Sectionals set list yet again and how they can't very well add Hilary Duff, now, can they?
At home he sits staring out his bedroom window, unable to focus on his homework with the incessant pattering to the glass, and longs for future times when rainy days will turn as romantic as in the movies; too large sweaters and nowhere to go, two strong arms wrapped around him and sweet love confessions pressed to the shell of his ear.
(after)
"Your hair looks fine," Sebastian will scoff, and press a quick kiss to Blaine's cheek before he's out the door for his early morning class, all too aware that his lovely boyfriend will spend another half hour in the bathroom before he decides that Sebastian's right, his hair looks great, and with the torrent outside there won't be much he can fix at school anyway. Better to leave it as it is.
Blaine will smile when he finds coffee and a cronut waiting for him in the kitchen, a quick 'love you' scribbled in his boyfriend's tidy penmanship. A big umbrella, tissues, and some plastic bags lie on the kitchen table, a post-it saying 'just in case' pasted to the wood. Sebastian had gone for a run in the park, showered, and managed breakfast while still attempting to cheer him up and just for that Blaine will gift him the pleasure of a better mood.
Sebastian still finds rain inconvenient, it slows people down and often makes them inattentive, but Blaine peels back the veneer of the walls built around his heart, he's more Sebastian than he is a Smythe, or a student, or a future lawyer; he's a son, a brother, a friend, a boyfriend, and a surprisingly good one at that.
Blaine still thinks the rain more than an annoyance, it shifts his mood to something darker than usual and slows down his entire day, but under his care Sebastian has watched too many romantic movies, realized he owns sweaters that don't fit Blaine at all, and has two strong arms, not to mention a devious tongue that can do all sorts to make him forget all about the rain.
"Il pleut," Sebastian will whisper secretly into Blaine's hip, teeth scraping over skin and down to the bone while the rain taps mercilessly at the windows. Blaine's fingers will wire through Sebastian's hair, and he'll say, "Please, s-stop talking," because despite him having asked Sebastian keeps trying to teach him French at the most inopportune moments.
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