A/N: Yay! Another story!
I don't usually ship Seblaine, but this didn't work with any other pairing. This is set just before Kurt and Blaine meet. Oh, and this is about as graphic as it's gonna get. Does not do smut.
Three months. For three months, Blaine had found himself in Sebastian's room. Three months of hookups. Three months of dropping to his knees like a trained dog whenever Sebastian called. Three months and he was in way over his head.
He'd realized it that last time he'd been there.
Sebastian had dragged him in the moment he'd knocked on the door. He'd bypassed Blaine's lips in favor of his neck, always preferring to stake his claim on his booty calls. In a moment of obvious insanity, Blaine considered what it might be like to have Sebastian marking him because he actually belonged to him. He left that thought behind as Sebastian opened his shirt. Sebastian's tongue was extremely distracting.
He pushed him to his knees roughly. Blaine could take a hint. He pulled open the button and zipper of his slacks; they were both still in their uniforms. Sebastian's hands came to rest in his hair, wrenching it free of the gel. Those insane thoughts hit him again as Sebastian moaned about him. What if Sebastian was his? What if he gave up his other booty calls and went exclusive?
As if that would ever happen.
He needed to stop having these thoughts. They were fuck buddies and nothing more. They weren't ever really friends outside of Sebastian's room. In fact, they kind of hated each other. Which, he supposed, was what made their frequent hookups so good. They disliked each other with such a passion, they took it out on each other during sex. It was rough, it was messy, it was angry. And so, so good.
Sebastian tugged his hair harshly, pulling his attention back to the task at hand. Or, technically, in mouth.
Oh shit.
He very nearly stopped sucking all together.
Oh fuck.
He was falling for him. He was falling for Sebastian Smythe. God, he was so pathetic! And, of course, he would realize this with Sebastian's cock in his mouth. Go fucking figure.
"Tired already, Anderson?" Sebastian hissed. Blaine growled in the back of his throat, effectively rendering Sebastian once more speechless. He focused back on the other boy's cock. He would deal with his own mental instability later.
76 hours, 23 minutes and 47 seconds since he'd come to this conclusion, not that he was counting, Blaine was lying on a couch in the Senior Common Room trying to read. He had ignored three calls, twelve suggestive comments and a total of 34 texts from Sebastian. (Again, not counting.) But the boy was still running around and around (stark naked even in his head) his thoughts. He couldn't flipping stop thinking about Sebastian.
He couldn't actually be in love with him, could he? He hated the asshole (oh God, now he was thinking about Sebastian's asshole). He could barely stand being in the same room as him (even better, now he was thinking about how he never actually was standing in Sebastian's room, just kneeling or laying). His brain started whispering to him.
You do feel less stressed when you're fucking. (Who gets stressed by orgasms?) Your heart does speed up when he's in the room. (Who doesn't get a little anxious when their mortal enemy is around?) You do kind of smile when he speaks. (Aren't you amused when someone you hate is making a fool of themselves?) You are pretty eager to see him all the time. (Would you pass up sex?)
The doors banged open. He sat up quickly as the other Warblers trouped in. Jeff flopped down next to him as Wes, David and Thad took their places at the conference table. He sensed Sebastian before he saw him. Shit. He was so gone.
Sebastian positively glared at him as he strutted in. For them, to any outside viewer, it wasn't unusual, but Blaine knew what he was so angry about. Poor little rich boy had to call come other cock slut or go out and find one. Seriously, could Sebastian even go one day without sex? Blaine ignored him, suddenly extremely absorbed in placing a marker in his book. Jeff looked at him funny, but didn't say anything.
"What the fuck is your problem. Anderson?" Sebastian hissed, grabbing his arm as they left the Warblers meeting. Blaine pulled out of his grasp.
"Leave me alone, Smythe," he growled. They waited until everyone else cleared out, giving them weird looks along the way.
"You haven't answered me in three days."
"I had work to do," Blaine snapped.
"Bullshit. We have the same classed, moron," Sebastian snapped right back.
"What do you care, anyway? I'm sure you have other asses to stick your prick in," Blaine muttered. He realized suddenly that he had a very foul mouth when he was pissed. He blamed Sebastian. To his credit, Sebastian actually looked shocked at Blaine's words. Then, his haughty expression returned.
"None as wonderfully tight as yours, Bashful," he purred. Blaine gave him a disgusted look and pushed past him. "I'm serious, Blaine, what the hell is up?' Blaine squinted at him.
"Seriously?" he demanded.
"Yeah, seriously," Sebastian snapped, mimicking his voice.
"Why do you care?" Blaine asked, genuinely curious.
"We're friends," he mumbled, "or something."
"No, we're not," Blaine replied flatly. Sebastian stared at him. Blaine let out an exasperated sigh and left the room.
It was nearly 2:00 in the morning and Blaine was still awake. He couldn't get Sebastian out of his head. He was tossing and turning and trying not to fucking touch himself as the Sebastian in his head whispered filthy things in his ear. He knew Sebastian was just down the hall. He knew he was probably with some other boy. He knew he wasn't the only one who heard those erotic moans of his. He wasn't the only one who knew the face he made when he climaxed. And it kind of killed him. But what the hell was that nonsense about friends earlier? Was it possible Sebastian might care about him, too? He stared at the ceiling. He seriously doubted it.
Stumbling from his bed, his half asleep brain told him he needed to see Sebastian. For some reason, he thought it was a good idea to ask him just what he meant. (Of course it really wasn't, but he wasn't thinking straight.) He shuffled down the hall and pounded on his door. Sebastian opened up almost instantly, looking sleep deprived and exhausted. He was studying.
"What?" he asked in exasperation. Blaine shook his head. Just seeing Sebastian made him forget every reason he'd ever made up to not sleep with him. Sebastian looked him up and down, letting his eyes linger on the space between his legs. "Well, well, well," he murmured. He pulled Blaine into his room.
As he pounded mercilessly into him, Blaine noticed the clock by Sebastian's bed. It was 2:15 am.
Blaine woke up cold and alone. He thanked the heavens it was Saturday, because he could sense it was late. There was a key on the nightstand and Blaine understood. He picked up his clothes, feeling dirty and used. He locked Sebastian's door behind him and slid the key back underneath it. He began the usual walk of shame back to his own dorm, feeling hurt and angry. Damn Sebastian for being so damn good looking. Damn him for being so damn charming. Damn him for being so damn good in bed. It was unfair. It was cruel. It was completely unnecessary.
He closed the door to his room and shut his eyes, leaning against it. Why had Sebastian been so nice to him last night? The sex was a rough as usual, but after there was a change. He'd actually held Blaine. He could still feel the ghost of Sebastian's fingers in his loose curls. The murmured compliments still echoed in his ears. It had, just for those few minutes, felt like Sebastian cared.
He sank to the floor like a pathetic girl in a crappy teen romance movie. This was it. This was the last time. He couldn't sleep with Sebastian any longer. It was screwing him up in so many ways. He wasn't in love with Sebastian, he couldn't be. He was just confusing his feelings of desire with some misplaced infatuation. But not anymore. With that conviction he stood and showered the smell and phantom touches off himself.
He actually lasted almost four weeks. He ignored Sebastian in their classes and interacted with him as little as possible during practices. At first, Sebastian tried to approach him. But Blaine continued to avoid him, sometimes going out of his way to make sure their paths didn't cross. After a while, he finally just left him alone. And Blaine thought his heart stopped.
By the end of the fourth week, he was drowning. He stood outside Sebastian's door, willing his hand to drop back to his side and his feet to propel him back to his own room. But it didn't work and Sebastian was opening the door, eyebrow raised. He stood against the door frame looking pissed, arms across his chest. Blaine took a step forward and stopped at the look in his eyes.
"What do you want, Anderson?" he huffed out, "I'm a little busy."
"Um," he started, he'd never had to ask for anything from Sebastian.
"Thought so," he snapped, heading back into the room.
"I just thought," Blaine started again.
"Look," Sebastian said in irritation, "it was fun while it lasted, but it's over. You made sure of that. And you're right, there are plenty of other people I have to call who are better than you. So, you're getting your wish. I'm going to leave you alone." He shut the door firmly in Blaine's face.
He tried to find the silver lining.
Yeah, he would finally be free of Sebastian. That was good. So why the hell did it feel like he was slowly coming apart at the seams? Why did it feel like he was dying? He felt sluggish. Every day it was harder and harder to get out of bed. It was harder and harder to pay attention in class. It was harder to sing. It was harder to see him. He felt like every breath was shredding its way through his lungs. His entire body was in pain. He didn't want to be free of Sebastian. Did he really wish he was free of Sebastian?
His answer came two weeks later.
Door's open – S
Blaine stared at the text in his hand. He had a research paper due in two days. But, really, what better way to release stress than to just release? He growled slightly, throwing his pen down and closing his book. No. He wasn't going to do this.
Who was he kidding?
Of course he was.
Of fucking course.
"Why?" Blaine demanded as he was redressing. Sebastian—still naked, the sheet pulled up around his waist, book in hand—looked up in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
"You said you were going to leave me alone," he grumbled viciously, pulling his tee shirt over his head. Sebastian shrugged.
"I was lonely," he replied shortly. He turned back to his book, dismissing a broken hearted Blaine.
One day. One day he would say no to Sebastian.
And yet.
You busy? – S
He went over that day.
Bored – S
And that day.
Come over – S
And that one.
"Hey, Anderson," Sebastian's voice called as he came out of class.
"What?" he asked, looking up at him with a sigh.
"Skip the show," he said, a sultry look in his eyes. Blaine opened his mouth, preparing to agree and let Sebastian drag him God knows where and fuck him senseless. Until his words registered.
"No," he said, the word falling from his lips without his consent.
"What?" Sebastian's eyebrows went to his hair line.
"I said no," Blaine repeated, confidence building up inside him.
"You're saying no," Sebastian said blankly.
"Yes." There was a moment of silence as the other boys bumped and bumbled around them, trying to get the Senior Commons to get in a good position to watch the Warblers.
"Fine," Sebastian shrugged, "I'll call someone else." He strolled off, acting as though he hadn't dragged Blaine's heart from his chest and trampled it.
He probably didn't know.
As for him, Blaine started walking toward the stairs. He felt like he was in a million pieces. He wasn't sure he could sing right now. Walking away from Sebastian was the hardest thing he'd ever done. He wasn't sure if he felt free, or destroyed.
"Excuse me?" a soft, slightly high voice asked behind him. He contemplated ignoring the person and wallowing in his despair for a little longer. But something tugged him around.
He took a breath and turned around.
I can't keep feeling love like this, it's not worth temporary bliss…