I'm going to be honest, here - I initially started a Time Traveller's Wife AU which I wasn't happy with at all, so I deliberately played around with the interpretation of what "Book AU" meant so that I could write this instead. Nevertheless, I hope it's okay!
God, Sebastian just wants this day to end, already.
It's not that he's not grateful for the keen crowd lining up in the street, waiting for a few seconds of Sebastian's time so that they can get their book signed, because he most definitely is. Each and every person out there has taken the time to read his book, and liked it so much that they're willing to wait fuck knows how long purely so that he'll sign their covers or a page of their choosing, and he knows that he's lucky. But, fuck, it's so boring.
The day passes in a flurry of white pages, and his hand cramps around his pen. He's long past the stage of attempting to take in everyone's faces at this point – everyone seems to blend into one as they flutter past in a blur. He nods politely, signs his name, and quirks a smile at them – or as much of one as he can muster, anyway, given the circumstances.
Santana sighs beside him after two particularly over-excited teenagers leave with their books cradled in their arms, chatting excitedly amongst themselves. "You know, Seb, you could at least attempt to look happy to be here."
His manager was his favourite person in the world, to be honest. His best friend – his confidant – his completely platonic lifemate. People tend to refer to her as female Sebastian, which he always takes as a compliment, no matter in which manner or tone it is said, because Santana is amazing, and it's not her fault that some people just don't see it that way.
"I can't, San," He whines, burying his face in his crossed arms on the table. "It's- I'm just- This is so boring."
At that, she smirks wryly, wagging her eyebrows. "At least there's been plenty of eye candy, though."
Sebastian replies to her with an eye-roll, because, yeah – there had been plenty of pretty girls sauntering into the book store, gazing at Sebastian through their long lashes, bending over so that he was subjected to a view of their cleavage, and, ugh, ew, no.
"Yeah, for you. I really wish they'd stop trying to flirt with me. Do you know how many numbers I've received in the past hour?" He digs into his pocket, tossing the pile intended for the trash onto the table for Santana to see.
She snorts, eyeing him fondly. "Well, I might take a few of them home with me, then. Let them know of your preferences. Maybe console them while I'm at it. Some of those straight girls can be experimental with the lady parts after a rejection like that."
"Ugh, keep your lady parts out of our conversations, please." Sebastian scolds her, nose wrinkling in disgust at the mental images his best friend has managed to implant into his head. "So not cool."
Santana laughs, nudging him softly. "Cheer up, Twink. We'll find you a hot guy."
"One that isn't accompanying a girlfriend, preferably," Sebastian tells her. "Although, I have managed to turn a few guys in my time."
"Please, honey. Those guys were just in the closet."
He shrugs. "Either way, I got what I wanted, and they didn't try to get me to take them out afterwards. Best hookups ever."
A few more people drift by, a few more phone numbers are not-so-subtly slipped before him, and Sebastian sighs, sliding them straight over to Santana, not even bothering to give the illusion that he'd even consider calling them, because seriously – he's openly fucking gay. He has explicitly stated it in several interviews. He's even been on the cover of Out magazine immediately following the overnight success of his book. What more do they want from him?
Another book is thrust before him, and he sighs heavily. A glance at his watch tells him he has half an hour to go at this stupid thing, and it's half an hour too long, if you ask him.
"What's your name?" He asks, pen already touching paper. He doesn't even bother to glance up – can't summon enough energy to give a shit anymore.
"Blaine Anderson," the voice replies, somewhat timidly.
Sebastian stills, because that voice – he knows that voice, and he can't believe Blaine has been in his presence for god knows how long, and Sebastian failed to notice him. His eyes trail up slowly, and he's met with intense, golden-brown eyes staring back at him through long eyelashes. Rather than having his hair gelled back, it's out in all his glory – messy curls lying on top of his head haphazardly. And fuck, how is it even possible for this man to be more attractive than he was when Sebastian had seen him last?
He swallows thickly, and his face breaks into the first genuine smile all day, because god, how could he not? Five years, and his feelings for Blaine haven't wavered, even slightly.
Before he can say anything, though, Santana is circling the table, in favour of drawing Blaine into a tight hug, while Sebastian just sits there fiddling the pen awkwardly, because he has no fucking idea what he's meant to say here.
Hi, I'm the guy who treated you like shit when we were teenagers, then wrote a book about how I've spent most of my adult life being haunted by your ghost. Yeah, that would go down well, he'd imagine.
Of course, in his book, he actually had killed Blaine off – or Gary, as the character had been named. The story was roughly the same, though. Boy meets boy, boy falls hopelessly in love, boy fucks it all up by being an uber dick, boy loses boy, and then Charles – Sebastian's character – spends the rest of his life being followed around by Gary's ghost, never being able to move on. It was their story.
He wonders if Blaine has read the book. God, he hopes he hasn't. There's no way that he wouldn't make the connection, and Sebastian really can't stand how pathetic and vulnerable he feels right now.
"You made it," Santana grins at Blaine as they break apart, and Sebastian shoots her another glare.
"You told him to come?"
Santana huffs, folding her arms, eyes darting between the two men. Blaine scuffs his foot on the linoleum floor, his eyes downcast and nibbling on his bottom lip nervously, and Sebastian feels a surge of guilt, because he's being a dick again, isn't he?
"Well, I figured it was about time that I got you two losers to talk, since all either of you ever do is ask about one another. Seriously. Give me a fucking break."
He meets Blaine's eyes with trepidation, and Blaine huffs a soft laugh, which instantly resonates through Sebastian's core. He softens, and gives Blaine an easy smile. "It's good to see you, B. Pull up a chair – I have twenty-five minutes before I finish up here, then we can go grab a coffee?" He phrases the request like a casual question, and his voice betrays him by trembling a little at the end.
If Blaine notices, though, he doesn't mention it. "Sounds good, Bas."
The final twenty-five minutes aren't so bad with Blaine by his side.
The next morning, Sebastian rolls over in bed, and is greeted by the warmth of a smooth body right against his own.
His first instinct is to run – to get the hell out of there before the guy wakes up, but then he hears the tired groan that escapes the other man's lips, and Sebastian is brought back to reality – because he's in his own apartment, and this wasn't a one night stand.
This was the guy that he'd spent every single day thinking about since Sebastian had saw him last – when he proposed to his ex, his mind bitterly supplied.
After the book signing drew to a close yesterday, and the crowd had trickled out of the book store, they had gone to one of the nearby cafes. Sebastian had ordered the strongest pot that they had on the menu, and they had sat there for hours reminiscing until closing time. Not wanting Blaine to leave so soon again, he'd thrown caution to the wind, inviting the other man back to his apartment. ("I thought you'd never ask," had been Blaine's reply, muttered in a sultry manner against his lips.)
Blaine shifts beside him, sleepily edging himself closer so that their bodies are drawn flush together, and just like that, Sebastian's mind is brought back to the present. Bleary eyes open to meet his own, and Sebastian smiled softly, trailing his hand through Blaine's dark, messy curls. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Sebastian chuckles, and Blaine groans, weakly smacking his hand against Sebastian's arm.
"Nooo, sleep, Bas. S'early," he whines, and Sebastian snorts, because go figure – Blaine Anderson, actual ball of sunshine and light, is not a morning person.
Neither is he, to be fair, but he can't bring himself to go back to sleep right now. Not when he has Blaine's naked form pressed against him so firmly. He nudges Blaine's chin with his nose, and Sebastian places wet kisses against his neck, feeling the other man tremble a little.
"You're the worst," Blaine groans, but his hands thread into Sebastian's hair none-the-less, and Sebastian grins against his neck.
"That's not what you were saying last night," Sebastian supplies, because he just can't help himself.
"Mmm, I don't remember it too well. You might have to remind me again, Charles."
Sebastian snorts, because they hadn't got around to discussing the book – not when they'd been so distracted by want, and lust, and late night confessions, but he's not even remotely surprised about the fact that Blaine knows exactly who the characters are based on.
"My pleasure, Gary," Sebastian murmurs against Blaine's chest as he trails soft kisses, occasionally nipping the skin between his teeth as he makes his way down his torso. He noses at his stomach, glancing up at Blaine, who is propped up on his elbows watching him, eyes wide and pupils blown.
When he makes his way further down, mouthing at the soft flesh at the top of Blaine's thighs, Blaine lets out a stuttered gasp, and fucking hell, that sound goes right to his dick.
He starts off lightly, placing a soft kiss to the hard flesh before him, and hears the hitches in Blaine's breath, feels the hand tightening in his hair. Gently, he strokes his tongue against the shaft, watching Blaine closely. Blaine's eyes flutter shut, his head rolling back as Sebastian takes him into his mouth.
Blaine guides him with his hand, and Sebastian presses his tongue firmly against the shaft as he bobs his head, loving every minute of it. Getting to have Blaine like this – fuck – he'd only dreamed about it, and the dreams most certainly did not live up to the actual experience, because Sebastian feels like he's going to blow his load right now before Blaine even touches him.
He swirls his tongue around the head, and Blaine whimpers, before pulling Sebastian off his cock with a pop, his lips curled into a smooth grin. "Do you have condoms?"
At that, Sebastian's heart skips a beat, because fuck yes, he has condoms.
They didn't go this far last night – both too desperate and worked up to last long enough. There was a round of desperate rutting, and mutual handjobs – and even that in itself had been mind-blowing. But the thought of having Blaine inside him? Fuck.
He figures it's the fastest he's ever moved as he makes a mad dash to his night stand, then suddenly, he's on top of Blaine again, snarling desperately, Blaine's hand tugging into his hair possessively before he's rolled onto his back, and Blaine presses their erections together, Sebastian keening below him.
Blaine makes his way down, stopping every few seconds to press his lips against Sebastian's chest, swirl his tongue around his nipple, nip at the flesh on his hip softly with his teeth, before he's spreading Sebastian's legs, and Sebastian rolls his head back, because he needs – needs Blaine inside of him right fucking now.
He hears the lube squirt onto Blaine's finger, then feels the coldness spreading against his entrance, before the finger begins to slowly sink in.
God, it's been so long since he's done this – since he's let someone do this to him. The burn feels amazing, and the fact that it's Blaine that he can feel just adds to the arousal deep in his belly.
Blaine opens him up with care, until Sebastian is whining desperately below him. "I'm ready, Blaine, please. Just- nghh-" his brain short circuits as the fingers brush against his prostate, his entire body singing out with pleasure. "Just fuck me, already."
The pressure leaves him, and he nearly cries out with frustration, but Blaine's back on him now, pressing their lips together in a bruising kiss, tongues massaging together, and then he feels it – the pressure on his hole, and god fucking dammit, when did Blaine even find the time to put the damn condom on? He hadn't even heard the pack being torn open, he'd been so lost in the haze.
Blaine props Sebastian's legs over his shoulders, tilting him so that they're at an ideal angle, and seeks his permission with his eyes, to which Sebastian swallows, then nods shakily, not trusting his own voice.
At that, he pushes forward slowly, and it hurts a little – of course it does, he hasn't bottomed in years – but fuck if it's not the best thing he's ever felt in his life. He tugs Sebastian, hands wrapping around his upper thighs so that he's pulled closer, and finally, he bottoms out, Sebastian stretching around him.
Blaine strokes his fingers up Sebastian's sides, trailing gentle tingles as he goes, before he grasps onto his hands, pinning them at either side of Sebastian's head, and Sebastian whines.
"Shit, you're flexible," Blaine breathes into his ear.
"You've seen me dance, B. You should have known that by now."
"Mmm, I did spend a lot of time thinking about all the positions I could bend you into if I ever got the chance," Blaine whispers, voice all silky smooth.
Shit – shit, fucking shit. Sebastian's not going to last long at all. Not if Blaine keeps muttering such sinful things to him.
"Shut up and fuck me, Anderson," Sebastian whimpers desperately.
Blaine obliges him, beginning to stroke into him slowly.
"Thought about this so much, Bas," Blaine rasps out, as he moves inside him, each stroke resonating through Sebastian like a spark of electricity. "About opening you up – getting to feel your heat around me. Fuck, you're so tight."
"Blaine- god- please," Sebastian practically sobs. "Faster. Harder. I need- I-"
"So bossy," Blaine lets out a throaty chuckle, but he obliges, speeding up gradually, before eventually he's pounding into him with a punishing pace, angling his cock so that it brushes on Sebastian's prostate, making him babble incoherently with passion.
"So close, Blaine, I can't-"
"Fuck. Touch yourself for me, Bas. Come for me."
He obeys without question, wrapping his hand around his flesh as Blaine pistons into him, flushed all over and small beads of sweat coating his face in a slight sheen. The pressure of Blaine inside him and his hand around his cock sends his sensations into overdrive, and he dissolves into a burst of pleasure, his vision whitening out as he spills onto his stomach with a choked sob. He hears a stuttered breath from Blaine as Sebastian tightens around him, and then he's following him over the edge. "Fuck, Seb, fuck-" he mutters with a groan, fingers tightening around his hands.
Dimly, he feels Blaine collapse on top of him, and they lie there panting together, Blaine's face buried into his neck, Sebastian's entire body flushed, slick and tingling all over in the aftermath.
They fold themselves together, limbs tangling, and Sebastian presses a soft kiss to Blaine's forehead. "You're not leaving, are you?"
"Do you want me to?" Blaine asks him with a small frown.
"God, no. Never. Please stay."
Blaine smirks. "I was planning to."
The words curl around him like a blanket, enveloping in warmth, and nurture, and love, and he could seriously just lie here forever, soaking up Blaine's body heat.
And, yeah, maybe he owes his manager a fruit basket, a thank you note, and a warm hug at the very least. No doubt she'll demand something from him at some point, though. For now, he just lies in Blaine's arms, feeling more at peace with the world than he has in years.