Prompted by shade of midnight (on ): Jealous!Sebastian. Sebastian really can understand why every gay and even some straight guys have at last little crush on Blaine – he's cute, sweet and good-looking so people feel attached to him. But, damn it, Blaine is his and take off your hands right now!
Dalton!AU (Blaine and Seb met sophmore year, have been friends since then, they're both seniors now and any Kurt nonsense is when Kurt attended Dalton his sophomore year but transferred his Junior to McKinley)
NC-17 (for a few sex things and Sebastian because he's…Sebastian)
Sebastian knew the minute he started dating Blaine Anderson that he'd be in some knee deep shit kind of trouble.
The expression of 'someone's out of your league' had always been a little funny only because, simply, that it never applied to him. He had never met a boy who could say no; at a very young age Sebastian grew to understand that there was nothing, or no one, that couldn't be handed right to him with the right smile or series of words.
He'd been spoiled, it had created a complex, he wasn't ashamed nor proud of (alright, maybe a little bit proud) how he'd been raised. But he knew that he was marginally easy on the eyes, long limbs and bright flashes of green speckled with yellow as he fixed his gaze on people, a silver tongue to match his cockiness and it never hurt to let a little French slip from his mouth. Compounded together, it never failed to get a boy into his bed.
That is, until he met Blaine Anderson.
That boy had been unbelievably, frustratingly and completely out of his league.
When he'd met Blaine a lot of things had run through his brain at once; he had a perfect ass, encompassed by too tight chinos, and didn't the boy own a pair of socks? His voice had been breathtaking, his flustered school boy act adorable (especially when he realized it wasn't an act at all), and that his current boyfriend Kurt Hummel had made him an undeniably perfect conquest. And that's all he had been. A conquest, a map of uncharted land, a blowjob, an easy fuck to retrieve from the back of his mind during lonely nights.
When he looks at his boyfriend and catches himself giving him an affectionate smile, because Blaine can't just stay off the furniture during a Warblers number, he thinks back to those moments where he'd just met him and recalls his intentions all over again. In an organized clip-by-clip sort of flashback.
Sex had been, and sometimes continues to be, the most important thing to him. There's an expression on Blaine's face sometimes that reminds him of a quote about how a wolf can lose his teeth but never his nature.
Sometimes, when he's alone at night tucked into bed, his hips jerking up into his fist as visions of Blaine's ass dances in his head, he still doesn't get the point of intimacy coupled with sex. In the end it all comes down to mechanics, pieces fitting together, down to skin and grabbing, licking and sucking, orgasms in their purest form. Bodies falling apart where they had been so seamlessly glued together.
Sex is primal; it's a want and need based push and pull. Intimacy just doesn't fit unless you force it, a circle shaped peg slammed into a square hole.
He's only ever had one boyfriend before Blaine but can't honestly say that the memories of it are inviting ones. It was when he lived in Paris an entire summer before moving to Ohio with his family; Fredrick had made him feel like he was falling. Which, he guesses, is just what attraction in general feels like—that sensation where you think your stomach is about to fall out of your ass. He feels that with Blaine a lot of the time, but it's different in a way—lighter. Safer. Fredrick made him feel like he was falling towards the pavement without anything to catch him, their relationship loose and stretching him wide open.
So when he says he hasn't had much experience in relationships he means it. He generally has no idea what the fuck he's doing, has no idea why Blaine would even give him a chance in the first place. When he does think about it, he wonders if it has a lot to do with Kurt.
Actually, he's pretty sure it has everything to do with Kurt and how different they are.
Sebastian considers himself a pretty good observer, it gives him a slight advantage when approaching someone when he can read them like an open book, like the words are printed and indented on their skin. Read like Braille when he runs his fingers over pores. He likes being able to predict the person next to him, likes how it gives him the upper hand. Which is why when he met Kurt Hummel he could literally spell out in French 'selfish priss' eight million miles away.
But Blaine was everything he wasn't, so he gave him that little thing Sebastian tended to throw to the wind: benefit of the doubt.
He had to watch as his friend was let down on countless occasions, hurt by carelessness, his opinions listened to and then sent through the grinder, re-molded and formed by new and better ideas according to Kurt. He's lucky Kurt chose to transfer when he did and that Blaine had come to his senses (mind you, almost too late) because it's his senior year and he most definitely would have been expelled for punching another student.
Blaine has this roundabout way of letting him know that he wants to date him and Sebastian was so head-over-teacups turned around because he couldn't figure the other out. He can't read him like he does everyone else. Blaine seems like an open book, honest and kind and while he is those things his words are like an undead language on his skin—he can't translate it.
Blaine had been moping, he missed Kurt. Because even though that shithead had been nothing but a selfish prick they had become actual friends nonetheless. He had fallen too hard and too fast, a quality that he could admire but one that damned Blaine all the same. Sebastian had tried to encourage him out of bed, to go outside, to go out on dates—
"If you don't get out of this bed I'm going to pick you up, mattress and all, and take you to Scandals."
Blaine popped his head out from under his pillow, his curls wild and untamed. He scrunched his nose. "To the gay bar?" He asked, voice hoarse. "No, I don't want to."
"I wasn't giving you a choice, really." He hummed, sitting a cigarette between his lips to rest as smoke curled out of his mouth and out the window.
He watched him for a moment. "You shouldn't smoke, you know. It's bad for you."
Sebastian grinned at him, taking the cigarette from his mouth to tap outside the window, watching the ash turn gray—bright intense orange fading away. "Imagine if I stopped doing all the things that were bad for me," He said. "What would we do if there wasn't a nasty habit you could chastise?"
He doesn't smoke anymore.
That made Blaine smile, a little, at least. His head dipped in a way where even in the dark Sebastian knew he was blushing.
"Let's go out. Maybe we can get you a date somewhere." He forwent the cigarette, snubbing it out on the window sill before letting the butt fall to the ground. He joined Blaine on the bed, the mattress pressing under his weight.
Sebastian could tell he smelled like a mixture of nicotine and cologne because Blaine hated it, his nose scrunching in distaste before leaning back against his headboard.
"I don't want to date anyone." He mumbled, picking at the sheet over his lap. "It's too soon."
He was starting to get annoyed , the fresh high in his veins fading to a thin veil that settled roughly above his skin, prickling into his pores like pins. He got heartbreak; he'd caused enough to understand what it must feel like. But Kurt Hummel, of all fucking people, should not be the one to break Blaine into pieces.
"It's been a month." He said icily instead, causing Blaine to frown. It came out in a rush, an angry lift to his tone—a fire in his belly, a confusion that frustrated him because he just didn't get it.
"Love for you is larger than it's supposed to be. It's like a religion, it's terrifying. No one is ever going to want to sleep with you." Which was a lie because he did but the amount of commitment Blaine put into everything turned him off. Turned him away. Didn't make it worth the effort.
Blaine straightened his shoulders, his fingers dug into the sheet wrapped around his waist. Sebastian thought he must have hit a nerve but the shorter's face was calm, pitying even as he looked at his friend.
"There's more to everything than just sleeping with people."
Sebastian didn't believe him.
He does now.
He doesn't understand until Blaine kisses him one day after Biology class; he's mid-sentence in on a project about vaccines and the shorter just smacks him with it, right out of the blue. And it's the first time that he feels a kiss in his knees, not his groin. He feels it everywhere but there. Their lips part and Blaine's got this flush traveling from his cheeks to his ears and down his neck, a train wreck of blush.
There's a crashing realization that says 'Oh, wow, that's intimacy' and he doesn't want to feel that with anyone else. Doesn't know if he could even if he tried.
So that's new, they're new even though they've known each other for almost three years. Everything's the same but different and it's like he needs to learn how to walk all over again because Blaine, Blaine still isn't in his league. He's too good for him and he doesn't realize that those same words he had spit to Kurt had applied to him until Blaine's standing on his toes to kiss him gently after a bad day.
Sebastian will probably never be good enough for Blaine but as long as the other doesn't realize it, it gives him time to try and become the person he thinks he should be. Someone who deserves the boyfriend he has because he sure as hell doesn't right now.
When a Warbler practice comes to a close on Friday, Sebastian nearly (nearly) lets out a noise of excitement. There's a long weekend up ahead and homework, for him anyways, is minimal. He and Blaine were going to drive back to Ohio so his boyfriend could see his parents and Sebastian could spend time in an empty house of his own (or the shorter's bed, if things were looking up). He still has to pack but the prospect of getting out of there is enough to keep the grin on his face as he approaches Blaine, who's saying his goodbyes to Nick and Jeff, picking up his blazer where he'd left it on one of the couches.
"Ready to go?" He asks, leaning his hands onto the couch. His eyes tick to the line across Blaine's shoulders, moving to help slide his blazer back on where it belongs.
Blaine turns his head back and smiles up at him, his hands adjusting the lapels before turning around to face the taller. "I can't yet, remember? I'm tutoring Hunter before we head back."
Hunter Clarington. Right. Sebastian resists an eyeroll and lets his hands fall to his sides, Blaine continuing to obliviously gather his things much to his discomfort. Alright, so he's new to this whole dating thing but just because he's relinquished his talents doesn't mean he can't dust them off the shelf. Blaine might not be able to spot it but Sebastian sees right through Clarington's sudden stupidity in Literature.
His bullshit detector is rocketing off the charts and if his gaydar peaks any fucking higher he swears he'll start making loud beeping noises any time Hunter is around. Not bi-curious his ass. He understands the full range of affects his boyfriend can have on people. That combined with the fact that he's gorgeous in a way where Blaine has no fucking clue how attractive he is.
"Hmm." Is all he says before, "He can't study on his own? We've got three whole days; he can dedicate his entire break to it."
Blaine chuckles, letting his hand effortlessly slip into his own as they start walking towards the library. "It's just an hour. I want to make sure he understands the basis of The Tragedy of Doctor Faustus. We have that paper due when we come back."
Sebastian's other hand falls to grab a hold of Blaine's, situating his body to stand in front of his boyfriend's as they come to stand outside of the library's doors. The school quiets, he listens for sounds of doors slamming or running feet against the tiled floor but the halls have become achingly still, the Warblers practice keeping them later than all the other's. Mostly everyone has gone home for break and if not they're burrowed in dorms sleeping the day away, a much needed break from everything Dalton has to offer.
He doesn't want to add to the school's echoes, he wants to get in his car and drive home even though his walls are just as empty as where he is now. There's a weird sensation building up in his stomach at the thought of getting away with Blaine, at somehow getting the boy all to himself (even though he clearly has to share him with his boyfriend's parents)—but it's still enough to create a fluttering impression behind his sternum that he purposely won't name.
"One hour." Sebastian repeats, looking down at him.
Blaine raises himself up on his toes, wraps his hand around the back of his neck. He speaks against his lips, Sebastian dipping his posture to slide his arms against his lower back to support him. "Not a moment more." He promises and he takes that hopeful tone in his voice and ties it around one of the tubes of his heart like a string.
He removes the distance between them immediately and Blaine's lips cover his own in eager strokes, finding a rhythm they have memorized by now. His fingers play with loose curls, letting them wrap around his fingers as a soft sound leaves the shorter's mouth and empties into his own.
Sebastian is sure that he'll never tire of kissing Blaine; the thought of kissing just one person, of committing to a single mouth, a single kiss, a single sensation used to drive him stir crazy. But Blaine's kisses are always different, always new and exciting in a way—there are simple ones, desperate lips grabbing at his, loving and tender, sweet and soft, horny and rough bruising his lower lip and turning it red, long and drawn out and so on and so forth. All different, all from one person.
It never ceases to amaze him.
"If I didn't know any better I'd think you were trying to distract me from leaving."
Sebastian smiles slowly, his teeth nipping at Blaine's upper lip. "Is it working?"
A breathy laugh brushes against his face before Blaine nuzzles their noses together. "Almost." He agrees, sighing as his hands travel down his sides before saying, "See you in an hour" and disappears into the library.
Sebastian definitely hasn't become one of those people who count the minutes, or anything.
0000
He's ten minutes early before Blaine's supposed to be finished with Hunter, so sue him. He wasn't even watching the clock or anything, he just happens to be completely done with packing up the car to take Blaine home. He drags his feet walking back to the library, sticking his hands in his pockets and tries to think of every reason why he shouldn't eavesdrop on his boyfriend and study da-partner. Study partner.
He doesn't come up with many.
Which is probably why he finds himself sneaking into the library, hiding behind stacks trying to find the table Blaine and Hunter are at, glaring at the librarian when she gives him shifty looks. He picks up a book, has no idea what he grabs but it conceals his face as he slowly heads towards the back of the room, past many open tables and rows of books and a set of ancient looking computers. When he hears Hunter laugh he pauses, damn near runs into the old History section and knocks a bunch of books on World War I (how fitting) onto his unsuspecting boyfriend and his partner.
He's not eavesdropping, really, he's not. He just so happens to overhear what Blaine and Hunter are discussing while he reads up on—Sebastian turns the book over in his hands to see the title—Russian Literature.
"Are you sure I have the right interpretation?" Hunter asks, he can tell by the lift in his voice that he's smiling without seeing him. Smiling at his boyfriend. "I don't want to write an entire paper on it and sound like a complete and utter asshole." He laughs.
The sound digs under Sebastian's skin, festers, creating a sickening pit in his stomach. "You're an asshole either way Clarington, head start." He says under his breath at the same time Blaine taps his pen off the table.
"No, I promise I'm sure. I wouldn't let you get the wrong idea about the play to start a paper." Blaine says, his voice serious. "It's actually a really great idea to think about the play in terms of fate versus free will."
"You sound so surprised I came up with a tangible idea." Hunter teases; Sebastian squeezes the spine of the book he's holding and dares a glance over some books, through a stack, to watch them. Hunter bumps his shoulder into Blaine's. "I'm not that bad at Lit."
That familiar blush that Sebastian's become accustomed with showing up usually only around him or because of him decorates Blaine's cheeks and highlights the contours of his face. He laughs softly, though it's uncomfortable, a flustered sound making its way up his throat.
"No, I uh…I didn't think you were that bad." He says honestly, "I knew you could string a few sentences together for a paper." Blaine jokes back, but it's different compared to Hunter's tone.
While Hunter is clearly trying to flirt with him, Blaine just wants to make him feel better about his 'lack' of knowledge in Literature because he genuinely can't tell if he insulted him by sounding surprised at a substantial idea.
Blaine closes his text and gives Hunter a bright smile. "I think your paper is in safe hands."
It hadn't taken Sebastian long when he'd met Blaine to gauge that he was sweet, nine million times nicer than he needed to be. At first, he'd misjudged it as naivety but as he got to know Blaine he came to understand that he was everything but. A little shy at times, sure, easily flustered (he made sure to take full advantage of that, making him blush as often as he could) but he was smart and he was outspoken, stubborn even.
Sebastian thought he had been able to identify a fellow mask when he saw one, because no one was that nice all the time. But as it turned out, Blaine was. He was genuinely nice because he wanted to be. It wasn't an elaborate scheme to get his own way or to manipulate someone into doing something. He was nice to people because it had to do with his outlook on life, a balance between being nice and receiving the same respect in return, not looking at how the world could be but should be.
He had criticized him for it before; didn't he understand how easy it was for him to get walked on with being as open as he was? How easy it was for him to get hurt? How people could slide right in, close to his heart, and take advantage of him? Hadn't Kurt eventually done that? Hadn't Sebastian met Blaine thinking about the same thing?
But in the end with Blaine what you saw was what you got, his smile was true and his heart was big, and he wasn't about to change that for anyone. Let alone him.
"I really appreciate you taking the time to help me." Hunter hums, taking advantage of their proximity, his eyes glancing down at Blaine's lips.
A fire like no other lit in Sebastian's belly, spreading outward through his body like a wildfire ablaze, the hottest part of the flame glowing its bright blue. He doesn't recognize the sensation at first, doesn't call it out by name but the closer Hunter leans towards Blaine the more pronounced it gets.
Blaine looks down, eyelashes kissing his cheeks. "I, uhm…"
Sebastian chooses this moment to make himself known, appearing at the table in a matter of seconds and letting the book fall from his hands. It makes a loud clattering noise and Blaine gasps as Hunter yanks back from his entirely too close position next to his boyfriend. The shorter's eyes go a bit wide, like he can't honestly believe that Sebastian's appeared suddenly out of the stacks like some sort of groundhog popping out of its hole to check for its shadow.
"Time's up Clarington, time to move along to fuck around with someone else's boyfriend." He states, his eyes boring into the other male.
Hunter leans back in his seat, gives him a grin that's matched his own on too many occasions. "Funny coming from you." He tuts. "I was just telling Blaine here how grateful I was for his help."
Blaine's the color of a stop sign at this point but he can't tell whether it's from Sebastian interrupting his study date or because of Hunter.
"Can you do it without sounding like you're about two seconds from dropping your pants to the ground?" He hisses, wondering when he's going to get the librarian's attention or if she's gone home yet.
"Now, now. I'm offended…" Hunter stands and sets his hands against his own chest. Sebastian rolls his eyes, looking mildly nauseated. "I'm working hard on changing my life around, Sebastian…and I wouldn't want to do something like lie now, would I?"
Blaine must be able to sense that something else is brewing, something close to how he was feeling the moments before he wanted to punch Kurt in the face for being a dick, because his hand suddenly closes around his wrist and his anger ebbs a moment.
"Come on, let's get out of here. We're way past due for our drive home."
Hunter gives him another smile, sticking his hands in his pockets. Waiting. Teasing him with his eyes, trying to egg him on.
But he feels a gentle pull to his wrist again and his eyes look down into wide hazel ones that almost regrettably make him weak in the knees. He buckles and just sighs, nodding his head at Blaine and grabs his bag to throw over his shoulder. He takes his hand and shoves his shoulder into Hunter's on the way out.
"Hear that?" Hunter calls after him. "That's the sound of a whip cracking against your balls, Smythe!"
Sebastian ignores him and the librarian gasps, glaring at Hunter like she might try and set him on fire with her looks alone. Something tells him that all the other has to do is throw her a wide smile with a slightly alluring set of explanations for him to get his way.
He and Hunter are more alike than he likes to admit.
000
Sebastian's quiet as they head out to the parking lot to the car. It's raining, the drops the size of fucking golf balls and they have to run to his car. They both get rather soaked; he guesses it's inevitable when the sky is pouring buckets down onto you even if you're running. Ironically the damp sensation feels like some sort of worldly sign though he's not sure what it stands for. Thunder crackles and Blaine shivers, biting his lower lip as he closes his door.
He hurriedly starts the car and cranks the heat up where they sit for a few minutes, trying to warm up their cold and wet limbs.
"Are you okay?" Blaine asks a moment later, his lower lip tinged blue.
He feels guilt snake down his sternum, settle in the pit of his stomach, rocks his body like he's on a ship. He could (would) have drove the car around to the entrance of the school to pick Blaine up so he wouldn't have gotten soaking wet from the rain but he had been so immersed in fucking Hunter Clarington painting his insides green that he hadn't thought of it.
Sebastian reaches into the back seat where his lacrosse bag is and digs inside to pull out his lettered hoodie. He hands it to Blaine, "I'm fine, put this on."
The shorter glances at the hoodie a moment and gets this look on his face that makes him roll his eyes, the corners of his mouth wanting to pull into an affectionate smile. Sometimes when he catches himself doing something 'gentlemanly' his boyfriend will give him this look like he's handing him a year supply of multi-colored bowties (something he likes to splurge on and mismatch when they're out of the Dalton uniform).
It's not like he hasn't been polite before (usually to get something he wanted but that's beside the point) but for some reason it seems to mean that much more to Blaine when he is.
"Stop looking at me like that and put this on before you catch a cold."
"Aw," Blaine sniffles, his voice sounding thick and wet from being drenched. "Sebastian Smythe caring about little old me." He takes the hoodie from him and works off his blazer and long sleeved dress shirt, his white undershirt fairly dry before he sinks into the material of Sebastian's hoodie.
Sebastian helps pull it over his head, smirking softly as the fabric nearly swallows him up, curls popping out in odd places from the lack of gel. He pats them before scrunching his fingers through them, causing a soft noise to leave Blaine's throat.
"More like I don't want you to get sick because guess who will be taking care of you."
Blaine settles into the seat of the car, the rain pelting the hood in a loud and heavy fashion. He probably shouldn't drive in this, they can wait a few minutes for it to stop and warm up, time already wasted in the library anyways.
"You're not fine." Blaine insists a moment later. Sebastian takes a look at him, satisfied to note that his cheeks look pinker and his lips are no longer any shade of blue.
"I was before you decided to nag me like my mother."
Blaine hums and rolls his eyes, tilting his head to the side before he figures it's better to just turn his body towards him. He's not used to this sort of scrutiny. Usually he can read people like the novels they are but no one's ever tried, or at least succeeded, in reading him. But Blaine has this way about him that dips under his skin, against the folds of his muscles, runs his fingers along his bones and veins and picks up words and secrets that he's never told anyone before.
It's not so much that he opens up to Blaine but that Blaine just…knows. He wonders if that's what it's supposed to feel like to really be in a relationship with someone, when they know you inside and out without even trying.
"Hmm, you know, I really don't think you had anything to worry about. We were in the middle of the library, librarian and you apparently two feet away. He knows I'm with someone…I don't think Hunter would have been as stupid as to try something on me."
And there's Blaine again, giving someone credit when they don't deserve it. "We obviously have very different definitions of the word 'stupid'."
There's a hint of a smile covering Blaine's lips. He doesn't like it in the slightest. "Hunter is harmless."
"As an STD." Sebastian finishes for him.
"Sebastian!" There's a look of surprise on his face at the comparison but it's jumbled with affectionate amusement that he's come to recognize every now and then when Blaine talks to him. Like it's a mixture of I can't believe you just said that and of course that just came out of your mouth.
There's a moment where the rain fills the silence for them and suddenly it's too hot in the little space of the car and Sebastian reaches forward to turn the heat down. He leans back against his seat again and shakes his head, Hunter's amused face and slow smile in his mind's eye and suddenly, from out of nowhere, he's snapping out a comment at his boyfriend.
"You're too nice."
Blaine's eyebrows lift and Sebastian pushes the thought away that he sort of looks like a half-drowned puppy wrapped up in blankets after being rescued.
He opens his mouth to speak, or to question he's not sure, but Sebastian talks over him before he can try. "I mean, honestly, would it kill you to be a dick every now and then?"
Blaine watches him carefully for a moment and he knows how ridiculous he sounds, doesn't need his boyfriend to spell it out for him but all he can think about is Hunter Clarington and his slow grin as he looks at his Blaine. He recognizes that heated burn in Hunter's eyes because he's had the same one before—a conquest not yet conquered, a challenge not yet mastered, Blaine being that conquest, that challenge. How many times had he fucked around with boys in that same goddamn library? Probably at the same table, or under it, where Hunter and Blaine had been seated reading that play?
It's unreasonable, he's being ridiculous. He doesn't believe in happenstance but he does put a certain amount of trust in karma; he can see the world spinning counterclockwise, off its axis, trying to regain balance in spite of himself.
Sometimes Sebastian feels like the only reason he has Blaine is so he can lose him.
"So, let me get this straight…" Blaine pauses. "You're telling me you want me to be more of an asshole to people?"
And no, that's not really it and Sebastian's not sure how he got to this point. He should have just kept his mouth shut because, in all honestly, even though Blaine's kindness is definitely frustrating and he still doesn't get how he can smile and offer kind words to different people and mean it every single time—he loves how warm his boyfriend is, how sweet, how optimistic. Maybe because it's the exact opposite of himself and there's a balance there he appreciates. He has exactly one extension of courtesy and it's to Blaine; he makes an effort to be nice around him, for him, to his friends, to be kind, to be the good boyfriend Blaine deserves and wants him to be. And he thinks one day he won't have to pretend or make an effort because he'll just be.
"Maybe." He says, because he can't backtrack with the hole he's dug.
Blaine smiles and a soft noise leaves his lips again, gets lost in the pounding of the rain on the hood of the car. "And this has nothing to do with the fact that you're so obviously jealous of Hunter."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Sure you don't." His boyfriend chuckles, the sound light and warm against his eardrums. "Which is why you didn't show up early at the library to check on me."
"Happenstance." Sebastian lies through his teeth.
"You were jealous." Blaine finally says again, too much laughter in his tone for his own good.
Hunter's a version of himself he wishes he could forget sometimes so no, he's definitely not jealous. Blaine pokes his side before he can deny him again, his body reacting accordingly by jerking away from his boyfriend.
"Knock it off." He says but there's a hint of laughter there, right on the edge—and the gleam in Blaine's eyes tells him he notices it and he's far from finished.
He squeaks out a noise that he never wants to admit he's made as Blaine continues his onslaught of fingers against his ribs, curling in on his most ticklish spots and making him squirm, vulnerable, opened up wide like someone's cracking his chest in half. His boyfriend encroaches on his space and it's a bit difficult with being in the front of the car, the divider in the middle of the seats and not to mention the steering wheel but Blaine makes it work and he doesn't stop tickling him until their chests are pressed up against one another's, his lips hovering against Sebastian's.
"Jealous." He says.
Sebastian pants against the other's mouth, wrangles him into the seat and separates his legs so he's straddling his lap, letting the seat lean back to give them more space. Blaine's short but he doesn't want him slamming his head off the top of the roof, either.
"I don't think…being jealous and possessive is the same thing."
"Well you'd be wrong," Blaine teases, working his hips lower to get his attention. Sebastian's eyes snap up to his. "They're synonyms."
"I hate when you get in essay writing mode, you're like a walking-talking- pocket dictionary."
He squeezes Blaine's hips as they swivel against his own, thinking he might be trying to get comfortable but there's a darkness to his boyfriend's hazel eyes. Wild honeysuckle turning into pure caramel instead.
"Possessive," Blaine recites, his lips sucking on Sebastian's lower one, the taller buckling under the sensation.
He can feel his lip getting bruised and red, wet from the other's mouth. He groans, his cock hardening underneath him, rocking up to feel some sort of friction against Blaine's inner thigh.
"Demanding—" Blaine moans as Sebastian moves his hand to cup the front of his pants, changing his inflection on the word. He smirks and nips at his boyfriend's lower lip, his thumb working to rub circles into the head of his cock which is clearly outlined through the front of his slacks.
"—someone's total attention and love." He finishes a little breathless, Sebastian moving his lips to suck on the skin against his neck, a bright purple hickey soothed with his tongue in its wake.
"Thanks Merriam." Sebastian shuffles his hips up, a slow grin covering his face as Blaine's eyes slip closed and a moan works its way from his throat, definitions long since forgotten.
Blaine presses their foreheads together, both of their breathing heavy and nearly ragged against one another's lips, fogging up the car windows, sweat building on their skin.
"You know its okay, right? To be jealous."
"I'm not—"
"Possessive then." Blaine corrects, hips stilling on his own. He misses the friction but he knows why they've stopped, his boyfriend is trying to point something out to him that he thinks he already knows. Something that's buried under his bravado, under who he used to be.
"It just means that you care about me."
Sebastian's green eyes trail over Blaine's face, the dips in his skin, his full lips and flushed cheeks and button nose (that he admits to kissing sometimes when he scrunches it) to those bright hazel eyes that read him better than anyone ever has.
Yeah. He does care about him, more than anyone. Cares about him even more than himself. And that's how Sebastian knows he's in trouble. Because maybe possessive is the right word and maybe so is jealousy. He wants Blaine's total attention and love, the last especially, because he knows what it's like to have it and he doesn't want to lose it (is constantly afraid he's going to).
"I just think Hunter should keep his hands and eyes off of things that aren't his." He says instead of the million and one other things he wants to say.
But Blaine smiles, he gets it like he always does, understands like the words are written on his face for all to see.
"I think it's time Hunter found a new Lit tutor." Blaine murmurs against his lips, fingers moving swiftly to tug Sebastian's dress shirt from his slacks, unbuttoning them as he goes.
Sebastian smirks, his tongue sneaking out to trace the other's lower lip, a wild glint in his eye as his fingers close around Blaine's hips. "I couldn't agree more."
000
One of the lines Sebastian says in the full italics section was inspired by a poem called 'Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out' by Richard Siken