disclaimer: without prejudice. the names of all characters contained here-in are the property of FOX and Ryan Murphy. no infringments of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.
author's notes: welp, some head canon i needed to write off :)
I Thought You Were More Than This;;
He stares down into his drink to avoid the lingering glances of the strangers sitting around him at the bar. It makes him feel uncomfortable, being lusted after like this, but he's taken up the habit of this self-torture now. Because he deserves this, the nausea clawing at him, the despair, the distrust in himself. He takes a deep breath and spins his glass around in one hand, wondering again exactly what he ordered; it was something alcoholic, so it was more than likely a bad idea, but he's resigned to sustaining this sense of worthlessness.
He deserves this.
"Hey, killer." That voice, so familiar, singing the same old tune. Sebastian settles down next to him at the bar, facing the dance floor, leaning back on his elbows. He feels small compared to Sebastian, no better than him, not classier. "Long time no see."
He doesn't look up. "There's a reason for that, Sebastian."
"Why the long face?" Sebastian asks. "Trouble in McKinley paradise?" He makes it sound like he actually cares, while his body's inviting, displayed for the whole room to see. Blaine hunches over closer to the bar, trying to focus on his drink and the solitude that comes with drinking alone. Though if he really wanted to be alone, he might as well have stayed home.
"Or is it something else?" comes Sebastian's next – logical – question. No, not logical, expectant. He's never really understood what Sebastian wanted from him, but now that he's here, deserving, maybe he should ask.
Sebastian's question comes too soon though, hits a little too close to the pain needled across his chest. So he just says, "Don't," even though he was hoping to sound more convincing.
Because when has Sebastian ever surrendered easily?
"Is that why you're here?" he asks, body making a half turn towards him. "Because Hummel hasn't been—"
"Shut up," he says, eyes shooting up at Sebastian and before he knows it he's standing with a hand grabbing at Sebastian's shirt collar. "Just shut up!" he shouts. He won't hear this, he's mistreated Kurt more than anyone and he won't let Sebastian drag him through the mud all over again, even if Kurt's not around to hear it.
Maybe it should have been Sebastian instead of Eli, a meaningless hook-up; it would've hurt even more but what's a little more torture added to his already guilt-ridden heart.
"Easy there, killer," Sebastian says, that stupid-ass smile lighting up his face. Leave it to Sebastian to like being handled. "You don't want us to get kicked out."
Blaine breathes in deep and stares at Sebastian's lips. Yes, it should've been Sebastian, he would've pointed out how uncharacteristic his cheating really was, would've commented and made an innuendo or used some of that spot-on sarcasm—and it would've made him think twice. If it'd been Sebastian he could've spared himself and Kurt this heartbreak.
"Unless you want to get out of here," Sebastian adds, his comment putting the reality of his situation in stark contrast, pouring salt in open wounds.
His eyes find Sebastian's. The words are right at the tip of his tongue and he wants to beg Sebastian to stop, stop making him feel this, stop making him believe that this is the person he could be.
But that's not what he says.
"I'm not a cheater," he whispers, tears stinging behind his eyes. He lies, he is a cheater, he deserves this, all of this, the pain and the guilt and the solitude, but that doesn't mean Sebastian gets to poke at it for fun. "I'm not—" He averts his eyes, lets go of Sebastian slowly. "I need to go," he says, feet already dragging him away and he hopes he paid for his drink because he can't remember.
He wanders outside without much care for where he's going, fumbling for his keys, his heart beating with the cut of razorblades. What made him think Eli could fill up the emptiness? What made him think he could get away with doing this to Kurt? With doing this to himself? He was so stupid, and all he wants to do is lie down somewhere and die. It's the only thing he can think of that could cancel out the pain.
"You don't need to go anywhere, killer." Sebastian's voice behind him, same old tune, same old temptation. Would it take away the pain, hooking up with Sebastian?
No, he thinks, just a temporary patch. Just a stalemate.
"Sounds to me like you just need to get laid."
It's a slap to the face.
He turns, fuming with rage. "No, Sebastian, because I tried that and it didn't work!" he shouts.
"What?" Sebastian asks, lacking his usual eloquence.
"I hooked up with—" He shrugs. "Doesn't even matter."
"You ch—"
"Yes!" he shouts, reminded of an early conversation between them. (Look, Sebastian, I have a boyfriend.) "I cheated on Kurt!" (I really care about him.) "I did exactly what you're telling me to do and I'm disgusted with myself!"
(Doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you.)
"I can't eat. I haven't slept. I fucked up."
He doesn't meet Sebastian's eyes, his own words slicing through him like a sword. (I just— never want to mess my thing up with him.) "I'm a horrible friend. I'm a shit boyfriend. I am—" he breathes, throwing his arms up, "—an overall failure."
And your whole bashful schoolboy thing? Superhot.
"So go ahead," he tells Sebastian, who manages an uncharacteristic moment of silence. "Laugh. Tell me how proud you are of me, how fucking overjoyed that I'm turning into you!"
He makes a mental note to stay away from alcohol from now on; it's not like him to blow up like this, to curse like this—though if he's entirely selfish he thinks he should do this more often, tell people how he feels even if it means raising his voice. Maybe that'll make them take notice.
But he's never needed to shout to catch Sebastian's attention.
He stills with his back turned to Sebastian, takes a deep breath, hands on his hips. He waits for Sebastian's inevitable reply. Part of him is actually expecting applause.
But he only meets with dead silence.
He turns around slowly, looks at the silent boy in front of him, all his bravado gone. What—? That's when he sees, how Sebastian isn't joking at all, no slow clap to score his adulterous tirade, no meerkat smirk or even any suggestive body language.
Sebastian Smythe of all people believed he had more integrity than that?
"Fuck you, Sebastian," he sighs, pulls his keys out of his pocket. When did this happen? When did Sebastian decide he was that person? Was it all an act, the flirting and the texts and the IMs? Was that Sebastian's misguided attempt at luring him away from Kurt and have him all to himself?
Maybe that would've been for the best. Maybe he should've broken up with Kurt way back when to have something lesser with Sebastian, anything would be better than this—this pathetic situation he's in now.
"You're not, you know," Sebastian calls after him.
"Not what?" he throws back over his shoulder.
"You're a shitty boyfriend!" Sebastian says, a little louder than he should, but Blaine's grateful that he's making him hear it.
He turns to face Sebastian again.
"But you do alright as a friend."
He shakes his head, heart pounding in his ears. "Coming from you—" well, he doesn't know what it means. Sebastian has this uncanny ability to be the most obnoxious person he's ever met one moment, while becoming exactly what he needs him to be the next.
He wonders how it's Sebastian that reads him so easily.
He huffs a laugh. "Thanks."
"At your service, killer," Sebastian says, taking a few steps closer, and stretches out a hand. "Now, give me your keys, because there's no way I'm letting you drive like this."
He hands Sebastian his keys without objecting and lets Sebastian drive him home; Sebastian's right, he's in no condition to. The drive is silent until Sebastian parks in front of his house. He makes no move to get out. He shouldn't have gotten drunk, he knows it impairs his judgment, but now that it's happened, now that he's told Sebastian, there's a question burning at the tip of his tongue.
"Sebastian, why—"
"The bowtie, Blaine," Sebastian interrupts. "It didn't scream—" a thoughtful pause.
—cheater, Blaine fills in the missing word, grateful that Sebastian chooses not to name his sin. He doesn't push his luck by asking Sebastian to clarify his answer.
"Of course now that I know you can cuss like a sailor I'm inclined to revise that opinion."
Blaine chuckles. "Shut up," he laughs, and unbuckles his seatbelt. "Goodnight, Sebastian."
Sebastian grins. "Night, killer."
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