A/N: written for the Seblaine Secret Santa over on tumblr.
in which I dabble in Coopbastian and writing sex for the first time

When he's fifteen his family moves to Columbus, Ohio, of all the godforsaken places. The only consolation he received was a half-hearted joke that at least it wasn't Alabama but he wouldn't be able to tell one ass backwards state from another if you paid him, so the comfort is cold at best. Living in the states had never been a goal of his but he thought, if ever it ended up happening it would be somewhere with a bit of glamour. New York, maybe. Or LA.

Barely 24 hours after he finished his last final he was making his way through de Gaulle airport; mother fitting around nervously and father barely looking up from his newspaper. His pleading to stay and live with Gabriel and Aimee, at least through the summer, fell on deaf ears and the three of them had officially christened it as 'the worst summer in the history of the world.'

He starts going out. It was laughably easy to get a fake ID and even easier to use it. He knows he looks a little old for his age but there's no way he can pass as 21. It's nothing compared to the stories his Parisian friends share, but it's a hell of a lot better than being alone.

He ends up losing his virginity in the backseat of a car. The guy isn't a complete random—they've been dancing around (and sometimes with) each other for a couple days before Sebastian gives in.

There's just something about him, some allure that makes him different from the other idiots that patron the local bars.

Curtis, Sebastian thinks his name is, but never bothers to confirm. Maybe Colin. Or Conrad. It's not important one way or another.

Probably from around here originally, but he managed to escape and make it somewhere else. Begrudgingly back visiting family, if the frantic way he slammed back drinks and the frenetic way he moved about the dance floor where anything to go by. Almost definitely not out, possibly not even gay and just experimenting to get his mind off things.

This Curtis guy looks like he's about 10 years older than him and he thinks that should be something that bothers him, but it doesn't. Sebastian's passing for 19 and if Curtis likes getting his rocks off with slightly younger men who is he to dissuade that? Especially when he has a body like that.

So he allows himself to be pulled out into the parking lot, both of them stumbling over their own feet due to the alcohol coursing through their veins. He wasn't planning on getting fucked but Curtis really didn't seem like the type to enjoy getting blown in a grungy bathroom. But before he knows it he's being stretched open and even though there isn't enough lube it feels good enough that he doesn't protest.

The next part didn't really feel that good and if Sebastian had any doubt about his partner's inexperience with guys it was totally wiped from his mind. But Smythe's are, by nature, a stubborn bunch and he's not about to pussy out just because it hurts a little. Or a lot.

Eventually they find a rhythm and the pain mostly recedes and it starts feeling alright. He's pretty sure there's potential there for it to be really good, but he's not expecting that much for the night. So as Curtis' hips start to snap at in an increasingly off tempo pace he wraps his hand around his own cock and lets his mind wander to his go to fantasies.

Curtis is still coming down from his orgasm when Sebastian starts to fumble around for his pants, trying not to wince too much as he shifts to slide them over his hips. He evades the grabby hands that seem to just be begging for a cuddle (which, really? They're in the cramped backseat of a car. Even if Sebastian was the cuddling type this is far from the ideal setting for it) and draws his cell phone from his pocket to call for a cab to come get him.

"I have work tomorrow," he excuses himself, trying to sound as professional as possible, as though his job isn't just a part-time thing at a local bookstore that he had only gotten as something to do during the day.

"Can I- can I have your number?" Curtis asks. He's starting to look a little guilty, like he's sobering up and realizing that he just had sex with some kid in the backseat of his car. (Not guilty enough that he's finally figured out how old Sebastian actually is. There isn't enough vodka in the world for Sebastian to deal with that kind of freak out.)

"This is a new phone. I only just moved here, so I haven't memorized the number ," Sebastian says, hoping to let him down easy and not at all expecting for his phone to be taken from his hands.

"There," Curtis hummed happily, handing the phone back over. "Now you have my number. And you can text me so I can have yours."

Sebastian is in the middle of trying to figure out whether this guy is for fucking real or what his problem was when his cab arrives. Clearly he was inexperienced in the area of one night stands and, frankly, it was a little sad that at 14 years-old Sebastian had a better grasp on how to handle these things than the man who had just fucked him into the leather seats. But if Curtis wants to make this into something more than what it is to assuage his guilt or whatever Sebastian will let him happily continue with that delusion for a little while longer.

He waits until he's ten minutes away before deleting the number.

xxx

Blaine had been all anybody talked about since the moment he had arrived on Dalton's campus. Sebastian hadn't been particularly inclined to believe any of it. A man who was treated like a god was seldom worth it.

He wasn't even planning on going to the Warbler performance, but James bodily dragged him through the hallways and out into the courtyard saying, "if you're thinking about joining them you should at least hear them first." (He hadn't really been considering it, had just mentioned to his roommate that he sang and danced a bit. His plate was more than full enough with soccer and lacrosse.)

Everyone was just milling around even though the performance was due to start five minutes ago, clearly waiting for someone. Just as the crowd was starting to get restless a short boy came bursting through, throwing his satchel carelessly to one side before taking his place at the front of the group.

Sebastian had to admit he was pretty good looking, although more endearing than anything else. The potential was clearly there, however. Give it a year or two and a growth spurt and he would easily be the hottest guy in school.

Then he started singing and Sebastian mentally took back everything he had just thought because with a voice like that looks pale in comparison.

Less than a week later he auditioned for the Warblers with an overly sexualized version of Down, accompanied by an excess of suggestive hip movements and never looking away from the honey-eyed soloist.

By the end of the song Blaine was flushed cherry red and the council members were barely able to conceal their amusement. For a moment he thought he might have gone a little too over the top, but once the giggling and nudging died down, he was told to return the next day at 6.15 for the rehearsal.

The first month he flirted shamelessly with Blaine. Practically every other sentence oozed with innuendo. The results were mixed; his advances obviously appreciated but not really reciprocated, although the attraction between them was pretty undeniable. But his thinly disguised blowjob offers are continuously turned into coffee runs and 'watching a movie' which, apparently, actually means watching a movie.

It takes James reminding him that, actually, most high school sophomore aren't that experienced in the realm of casual sex for him to realize that maybe he had been taking the wrong approach. Blaine isn't looking for someone to get off with, he's looking for someone to be with.

The idea of being in a relationship kind of freaked Sebastian out. As he understood it, trust, honesty, and commitment were all pretty paramount to the whole dating thing and none of those were qualities he particularly possessed or even valued.

But somehow in the last few months, he had grown to quite like the other boy—for more than just his body even. And he thought that if he could date anyone it would be Blaine Anderson.

Unfortunately they got off to a bit of a rough start because Blaine, it seemed, had thought that all their trips to the Lima Bean had been dates and was thus less than thrilled when Sebastian confessed his willingness to try monogamy. (And really, he had only been with four other guys since the school year started, which was practically monogamous.)

Eventually Blaine recovered from his embarrassment at 'having made the whole thing up in my head' and Sebastian spent way to long reassuring him that it wasn't completely a fabrication, more a misunderstanding.

They went on their first real date to a coffee house in Columbus and held hands as they walked to and from the car and the night ended with Sebastian Blaine to his dorm room and Blaine pressing a kiss against his cheek.

They've had two major fights. The first occurred the spring of their sophomore year, only a few months after they got together and it was over one Kurt Hummel; a mid-semester transfer who looked at Blaine with the biggest heart eyes Sebastian had ever seen. Blaine had taken him on as a charity case and thought Sebastian should do similar. Something about the camaraderie of small town gays or something and how their relationship could be a shining example for him.

Sebastian and Kurt hate each other, like cat and dog hate each other. And when Blaine declared that he wanted to duet with Kurt at Regionals Sebastian legitimately considered the merits of committing homicide.

The resulting confrontation took place in the (mostly) empty courtyard and it wasn't until after their brutal defeat that Blaine and Sebastian started talking again.

When Kurt transferred back to McKinley a few weeks later, Sebastian was the only Warbler to not serenade him farewell. It really wasn't his fault that it was the only time that the orthopaedic was able to see him and Kurt was probably a lot happier with his absence than he would have been with his presence.

There second argument occurred almost a year later.

Everyone expected Sebastian to be a horrible boyfriend. Hell, he expected that he would be a horrible boyfriend. But if there's one thing that Sebastian Smythe doesn't do its failure. So from the moment Blaine's puppy dog eyes begged him out for the first time, Sebastian resigned himself to being the best fucking boyfriend on the planet.

And okay, maybe he forgot Valentine's day and their six month anniversary. But who the fuck celebrates those anyway? (Blaine, apparently. And of course Valentine's day is somehow, inexplicably, his favorite holiday.) But Sebastian liked to think he made it up to him in the end, and he only relied a little on his money to make that happen.

For him, the hardest aspect of that was not pushing Blaine beyond his boundaries, sexually. Before Sebastian Blaine had only been kissed twice and gained all of his knowledge from porn and not from actual experience. He wasn't a prude or anything, but for a kid from Ohio his options were severely limited. Even at a place as accepting as Dalton, the vast majority of the school was, in fact, straight.

And, at heart, Blaine was a romantic. When it came to fooling around he was more than willing but he had drawn a line at actually having sex. While Blaine could concede to the fact that sex could, in fact, be meaningless that wasn't what he wanted and it certainly wasn't how he wanted his first time with Sebastian to be.

Sebastian accepted that, even if he found it frustrating, and after they talked about it (or well, Blaine had talked about it while he anxiously drummed his fingers against his leg, desperately wanting to avoid any talk of emotion and commitment) he had taken it very seriously.

Following their Sectionals win there was a Warbler's party. Everyone was absurdly intoxicated and when Blaine pushed him into an empty room he could barely even identify his boyfriend.

Apparently Blaine had gotten it into his head that night would be the ideal time for them to have sex.

Not only was the spare guest room of Trent's parent's house dramatically unromantic, but Sebastian was pretty positive that any sudden movements would cause him to throw up. (Mixing tequila and bourbon never, ever ended well and he was unclear on why, exactly he hadn't learned that already.)

So he had said no and, when Blaine persisted in trying to undo his belt, had actually pushed him away. Probably a little harsher than was necessary, in retrospect.

And suddenly it was like the world had exploded. Blaine was yelling and he was shouting. Blaine felt rejected and unwanted and Sebastian felt used and confused. They hadn't even talked about sex in months and he had no idea where this was coming from and Blaine had decided to rather liberally use the word promix-quous—enough that Sebastian ceased finding the humor in his slurred mispronunciation of the word and started to actually become offended.

Happily, he had blocked his specific responses from his mind. But he's pretty sure they weren't as scathing as normal, because Blaine hadn't been reduced to tears. Fighting with Blaine was actually really hard, because he was a significantly better person than Sebastian was in almost all possible ways; Sebastian did get better grades, but somehow the .25 differences in their GPA didn't really seem that relevant or hurtful.

Sebastian is pretty sure that they actually broke up, but Blaine had no recollection of that so, once they calmed down and sobered up, they opted to pretend like that part of the exchange hadn't happened. The rest was a bit more difficult to ignore and Thad almost sent them off to couple's counseling before they managed to resolve their differences.

Eventually it had happened and life mostly continued on as normal, although there was a certain awkwardness that hung around their sex life; both too acutely aware of where the boundaries were in ways they really hadn't been before. Not that that had stopped them from continuing to act the part of the horny teenagers they both so obviously were, but at the end of the day there was always a little bit of dissatisfaction hanging over them.

For the rest of the school year Blaine would occasionally, vaguely hint at the fact that maybe he as finally ready for more, but never in a way that seemed sure enough for Sebastian to want to act on that. So he just let the allusion slip by unnoticed and tried to make up for it by kissing him all the harder so he'd know that he was still wanted.

The end of finals in June meant the start of their separation period; Blaine would be spending the summer at home and Sebastian was returning to Paris to take summer classes at the Université Paris. He was there for six weeks before embarking on a grand tour of the continent with some of his friends.

They skyped a lot. Enough that Aimee threatened to steal his laptop and hold it captive for the rest of the trip. She actually did confiscate his phone when she caught him texting on their night out and thereafter he was forced to leave it home when they spent time together. When they travelled he was allotted 14 hours a week to call back home, none of which could be used during their travel time.

As much as he enjoyed his tour, he found himself missing Ohio more than he ever thought he would. He actually began a mental countdown to his return, although he would never admit that to anyone. And should someone ask, he was only aware that he would be touching down in Cincinnati in 2 days 12 hours and 37 minutes because Blaine was keeping him updated on such things.

To say his trip back is painfully long would have been an understatement. Having minimal tolerance for the foolishness of others, he had never been a particularly happy traveler. Throw in the screaming children that were two rows behind him the entire flight from Budapest to New York and the three hour delay to Cincinnati and he was vowing to never fly again. Walking, he was pretty sure, was a better option.

The only redeeming aspect of the entire day is that Blaine is waiting for him just on the other side of baggage claim. The Anderson's were off celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary in Hawaii and Blaine and Sebastian would have the house to themselves for an entire glorious week. Sebastian firmly planned on not moving from Blaine's bed for at least two days excepting trips to the kitchen and to take advantage of the jacuzzi tub in the master bath.

If only his fucking luggage would come. He knew it had made it on the plane— had watched it be carelessly manhandled by men who looked like they would rather be anywhere else— so now it was just a matter of waiting. And waiting.

Finally he sees it. It was one of the few that wasn't decorated in some unbearably gaudy design or brightly colored. Simple and black, but distinctive enough that he could spot it from a fair distance away. He grabs it from the carousel, a little more gracelessly than would have been ideal and hurries away.

Entering the arrivals bay he could have sworn that he felt Blaine's presence before he even saw him. A thrumming energy that practically quivered in excitement. Or maybe that's his own heart rate speeding up in anticipation.

"Hey, you," he greets the lump that was trying its best to burrow its way into his torso. "You'd think I'd been away for years."

"It's been months," the lump moans and Sebastian was pretty sure that he is currently being sniffed but each to their own. "56 days, to be exact."

"56 days too long?"

"Well, maybe 54. It's nice to have a break every once in a while," teases Blaine.

"I missed you too," whispers Sebastian into his boyfriend's temple.

Blaine hums happily in response. "Let's get you home. I bet you're exhausted."

"That would be one word for it." they load up the trunk of Blaine's Audi with Sebastian's things and he climbs into the passenger seat. Normally Sebastian hated not driving. Stupid Americans, he claimed, didn't know how to properly navigate traffic. Blaine, especially, was bad. Always using his turn signals and keeping a car's distance space between him and the next driver. But he is so tired he could barely keep his eyes open and even Blaine's grandmotherly driving was preferable to falling asleep behind the wheel.

"The three options for tonight are bath, food, bed. In any order," Blaine's voice pulls him awake and he felt the cessation of the purring of the engine, meaning they probably had made it to Blaine's house.

"Ate in New York. And I'll probably drown in the bath. But it would be nice to not smell like airplane…"

"Can you stand long enough for a shower? I'll do all the work. You just have to stand there and look pretty."

"Two things I rather excel at, if I do say so myself."

The shower almost ends in disaster because, while Blaine had filled out very nicely over the past year, he hadn't actually grown that much (although his fingers were still crossed for a late growth spurt.) Sebastian has about half a foot on him and, while Blaine should certainly be applauded for his efforts, he was pretty useless when Sebastian actually dozes off while standing up. Luckily it had only been for a second and he manages to catch himself as the floor came hurtling at him.

He doesn't even have the energy to properly glare at his boyfriend for the mishap, just mumbles about how he would pay for it before letting his eyes drift shut to enjoy the way Blaine's hands scrub through his hair.

At some point he manages to stumble from the bathroom down the hall to Blaine's room. Or at least he assumes he did, because suddenly he's ensconced in a comforter that smells like perfection and all of his bones are still intact so Blaine couldn't have carried him. But he's completely and deeply unconscious within seconds of his head hitting the pillow and how he got there mattered so much less than the fact that he was there.

When he wakes up the next day it's to a warm body nuzzling its way into his side and intermittent kisses being dropped onto his chest. Although the blinds were tightly shut rays of light were struggling to shine through, indicating that it was rather later in the day than he had planned.

"How long have you been awake?" He asks Blaine, tightening his grip around his boyfriend's waist.

"Couple hours. It's almost two."

"You didn't need to stay in bed with me. You could've gotten up." Neither Blaine nor Sebastian were particularly fond of just lounging around in the mornings; too used to too much schoolwork or other things that needed doing to be able to enjoy such luxuries.

"Thought about it. But this is infinitely better than cleaning the oven, or whatever else it is my mom wants me to do before she gets home."

"Glad I rank above menial household chores." Despite the fact that he knows his breath is probably rancid he can't resist the urge to lean down and kiss Blaine. "I could certainly get used to this."

"Go brush your teeth than get your ass back here. I know how much you hate kissing with morning breath and you have two months to make up for."

"It's disgusting. I still don't know why you want my mouth anywhere near yours when it tastes like a dog threw up unwashed gym socks." He rolls his eyes and made for the bathroom.

"What can I say? You're just that irresistible," Blaine calls after him.

Never before had Sebastian brushed his teeth so quickly, even skipping his morning floss, he was so eager to get back to bed. Two months really was too long to spend away from Blaine, which didn't bode well for their college years but, luckily, they had a time to figure out how to deal with that.

Hurrying back down the hall he practically jumps back into the bed causing Blaine to laugh teasingly and mumble, "Someone sure is eager."

"I haven't had a decent orgasm since the school year ended, so sue me," he groans mouthing at Blaine's neck. His hands tease along the waist line of Blaine's pants, enjoying the way his stomach muscles spasm beneath them but not yet intending to do anything about it.

"Seb," Blaine moans face already flushed. "I was thinking," he catches Sebastian's wrist and pulls it up so he could kiss at it, wanting to have as much contact as possible after their long separation. "We should… I mean if you want to…" he stutters in a way that only Sebastian ever seemed to be able to cause and that gorgeous blush was spreading. "I love you and I'm ready… for us to have sex. If you are?"

He had managed to gain confidence during the proposition itself, but it was rapidly disappearing because all Sebastian could do was stare.

"It's fine if you aren't ready!" he hurries to reassure, looking mildly horrified. "I know you wanted it to be kind of special. But neither of us really wants flowers or some cheesy fancy hotel somewhere cliché. And I've missed you and I love you and it would be special for me. So—"

"Of course I want to. I love you too," Sebastian's brain finally catches up with the situation. "You don't even know how much I want to." he surges upwards to kiss his boyfriend and when that didn't feel like enough he hugged him as tight as he can.

"Oh thank god."

Sebastian barely has time to start feeling guilty about exactly how relieved Blaine looks before he is being flipped on his back and basically ravished.

Blaine had just reached down to ease his pants off when his stomach rumbled mortifyingly loudly. He hadn't been lying when he told Blaine he had eaten in New York, but it hadn't really been a large meal. More like half a muffin that was too dry to choke down all of and the largest coffee he could buy. The last time he had eaten a proper meal he had been ordering off a menu in a language he didn't know with only the waiters broken assurances that it was a local favorite.

"Food!" Blaine pushes himself up and looks almost as embarrassed as Sebastian. "You're probably starving." Scrambling off the bed he grabs his slippers and his robe from the hook on his closet door. Any and all of the confidence he had regained had, once again, disappeared and, while Sebastian adores blushing Blaine he knew whatever he is thinking is ridiculous and probably borderline self-deprecating.

"Hey," Sebastian says softly, getting up from bed too and going over to Blaine to wrap his arms around his boyfriend. "Bath after breakfast? And then we can come back here and… continue?" He tries not to sound too unsure about it, knowing Blaine would probably mistake it from him not being interested.

Blaine smiles shyly and the blush doesn't go away, but at least now it was the one that meant he was secretly pleased and more than a little in love. "Right then," he straightens up, "I am about to make you the best French toast you've ever had in your life."

The French toast is really good, Sebastian thinks. At least he eats it all and made the appropriate number of exclamations over it. But no one could honestly blame him for being distracted because he's maybe an hour away from finally having sex with his boyfriend and if that isn't the most distracting thought in the world he doesn't know what is.

If he were the type to label his emotions, he might say he is excited. He might also say he's nervous. Instead he settles on feeling a little bit sick.

While he certainly doesn't see the big deal about sex, he knew Blaine does. It was pretty much unavoidable that the first time was going to be uncomfortable and weird, but he wants to make it was goo d as he can. And as different from him own first time as possible. (On that front he already consideres himself to have a good head start. Not only was he well-experienced, they would be in Blaine's bed and not the back seat of a random car.)

Mentally, he's running a list of all the things he should do while reminding himself that he shouldn't completely plan everything about, because there is no way it won't be awkward if he's working off an itinerary or something. But he still keeps going over the bigger things; massage in the tub to help him relax. Blow him first, but only for a little, wouldn't do for him to come before they even started. Preparation is a given and something they've experimented with a time or two before, so he doesn't have to be too worried about how to do it.

If the way Blaine is blatantly avoiding eye contact is any indication he's probably doing the same thing; although the concerned frown of his brow suggests that he's a lot more unsure of what to be thinking.

Sebastian swears to god if he thinks this is going to be like one of those awful pornos they both pretend Blaine doesn't have on his computer they're going to have a very long and very humiliating talk because Sebastian has more class than that and far from being a turn on, most of those noises (overly exaggerated moaning and skin slapping together in what sounded like a truly painful manner) just made him never want to fuck anything again. He also didn't take kindly to receiving instructions in the form of explicit demands. He knew how to get a guy off, thanks. Cries of 'fuck me harder!' or 'right there!' were more insulting than anything.

He tries not to let his face contort into a pained grimace as he imagined his boyfriend as one of those twinks.

"So… bath?" And how Sebastian ever pictured him like that was unfathomable at the moment, because right then he looked every inch the unsure school boy he was when they started dating.

Sebastian lets him lead the way to the master bathroom were they silently undress as the tub fills; each unwilling to stare but not quite wanting to look away. It isn't that they had never seen each other naked before and hadn't spent time intimately looking and learning every inch of the other. But somehow this was different.

Before the water even filled halfway up, Blaine slips into the tub, too flustered to stay standing in the middle of the bathroom. Sebastian gives him a minute to get settled before slipping in behind him. The moment Sebastian's arms wrap around Blaine's waist and Blaine settles back against him the tension seemed to melt away. This was them and it was familiar. Something that put them back on known ground.

For a while they just stay there. Blaine singing softly and Sebastian occasionally humming along. Remembering the night before, Sebastian returns the favor and washes Blaine's hair for him, being extra careful to make sure he doesn't get shampoo in his eyes.

By the time he's done washing Blaine's back the older boy is basically putty in his hands. Grinning with the successfully completion of step 1, Sebastian lets his hand drift lower, gently caressing his lower back before snaking around to the front and rubbing teasing circles into his hip. He tries not to feel too smug when Blaine tips his head back and his eyelids keep fluttering in an attempt to stay open.

"How about," his hand moves again, this time to dance up and down the inside of Blaine's thigh, "we move this to your room?" Loosely his fingers circle Blaine's half-hard cock and they both moan when he unconsciously thrusted forward.

"Yes," Blaine hisses, grinding back into Sebastian's lap. And they really need to be relocating because bathroom sex is almost always messier than one is lead to believe and if there were the appropriate lube and condoms in here, Sebastian really doesn't want to know because he can guarantee that Blaine hadn't been the one to put them there.

With a herculean effort he hoists himself up and stumbles to the towels and hastily dries himself off, unable to even look at his boyfriend as he did the same because then their afternoon plans would be rapidly derailed.

Somehow they manage to make it back to Blaine's room without touching each other but the door hasn't even slammed closed before his hands are running up and down Blaine's chest and Sebastian's towel is falling to the floor. He isn't sure if he's the one being pushed or doing the pushing, but they are tripping and stumbling their way to the bed before gracelessly tumbling on it.

Then Blaine is mouthing down his body and it takes all of his effort to remember that now was not the time for Blaine's tongue to get reacquainted with his dick, even if that was something they would both really enjoy. Really, really enjoy. A lot. And maybe it wouldn't be the end of the world if he let him. It wasn't like he wouldn't be able to go twice that afternoon (or more. It had been a really long time since he had last had sex.) It might even be better if he came first, because nothing would be less special than him orgasming 30 seconds in.

But Blaine would probably think it was more romantic or whatever if he could hold off so it was with great reluctance that he tugs at his boyfriend's drying curls and manhandles him up the bed.

"I should get the things. The condomsandlube and stuff."

Sebastian smiles fondly as his flushing boyfriend disentangles himself so he could fumble his way across the room so he could get what they needed.

"Seemed safer than the bedside table. You never know with my mother," he explained, digging them out of his school bag. "She has a penchant for going though drawers."

"Isn't that normal?" Sebastian was far from the authority on what was normal parenting behavior but that sounded somewhat typical.

"Probably." He shrugs. "But she tends to be very thorough. I blame Coop. Once she found the skeleton of some rodent in his sock drawer. The house hasn't been the same since."

"Wow, killer. You sure know how to get a man in the mood."

"Sorry!" Blaine scrambled back onto the bed. "Although I see it didn't bother you too much," he teases, pointedly dragging his gaze down Sebastian's body.

"Fuck you."

"Mmm. Yes please," he syas before rolling onto his fucking back and staring at Sebastian with ridiculously dilated pupils that belied how nervous he had been feeling earlier. Whether that anxiety was passed or had just been diminished by lust, Sebastian isn't sure.

"Fuck, Blaine," he groans and is immediately on top of him, kissing wherever he could reach and stroking everywhere else.

"Seb," pleads Blaine as he works his way down his body.

"Seb," he whimpers as Sebastian's lips wrap around the head of his cock.

Too soon for either of their likings he is pulling off. If he could spend the rest of his life tasting Blaine Anderson he would. Giving head had never been a particular favorite of his, but there was something about Blaine that made him like it.

Cautiously he gropes around on the bed for the lube, making sure his movements are clear enough that Blaine knows what's happening. Blaine's eyes widen a little but otherwise he makes no reaction other than continuing to swivel his hips in desperate abortive circles against Sebastian's free left hand.

"Let me know if it hurts?" Sebastian whispers, slicking up his fingers and circling his index finger around Blaine's entrance.

"I know. I know," babbles Blaine as he thrust downwards.

"Christ." It was taking almost all of Sebastian's efforts to not just take Blaine right then. With as much control as he can manage he slips one finger inside of his boyfriend, moving it in and out for a few minutes before adding another. With the third finger Blaine barely conceales a wince and Sebastian leaned down to take his cock in his mouth again in hopes of easing the discomfort. If the ways Blaine's breathing quickened and his moans filled the room were any indication it was an effective method.

"Okay, okay, okay," he chants after another few minutes before moaning obscenely when Sebastian gives his fingers an expert twist.

"You should turn over," advises Sebastian as he pauses to roll the condom on. "It'll be a little more comfortable for you."

"'m fine."

He isn't surprised that Blaine prefers the intimacy that this position offers but he takes a moment to study him to make sure he really is okay with it. "Let me know if you change your mind." He takes a moment to just look at Blaine and tries not to think too hard about what they're about to do and how, somehow, its different from all the times he's done it before. Finally Blaine grunts in annoyance, fed up with waiting but understanding of the delay. He shakes his head and presses forward, easing his way in.

It isn't the first time he had sex with a virgin. Although it is the first time he's had sex with someone who admitted to their virginity. He had thought he was prepared for the heat and the tightness but now that he's slowly inching his way in he's nearly overwhelmed by the sensations. It's only the look of discomfort of Blaine's face that steadies his resolve.

He stills himself and recites the Russian alphabet backwards so Blaine can try and adjust to the intrusive feeling. Once Blaine nods he continues to push in, carefully watching his face. He bottoms out and shuts his eyes to take several deep breaths. When he opens them Blaine is looking at him contemplatively. He gives an experimental twitch of his hips that causes them both to moan quietly. He tries again, a little more this time and Blaine is back to chanting okay which he takes as his cue to actually start moving.

Never before has he felt like this during sex and he can't quite figure out why. Maybe it's just the Blaine-ness of it all; something inherent about him that makes everything that much better.

When Blaine starts making these cut off whining keens in the back of his throat he vaguely thinks that he might be okay with the two of them for the rest of eternity if that sound is part of the deal.

At some point he screwed his eyes shut, because he just knows that if he sees how completely wrecked Blaine probably looks below him he would be coming in seconds. As it is, his mind is supplying more than a few helpful images to keep him more on edge than he would like to be. But Blaine's hips are snapping up faster and faster and the keening is more desperate sounding than before.

When he feels Blaine's hand snake between their bodies his eyes fly open and lock with his boyfriend's. There's a moment when everything seems to just stop before they're moving even more frantically than before. Sebastian's hand darts down to join Blaine's and just feeling how fucking hard he is sends Sebastian flying apart.

He can't even remember his name, let alone figure out which direction is up but he's scrambling down Blaine's body and licking up the length of his cock. Blaine's whimpering at the sudden emptiness he's feeling from where Sebastian had been filling him seconds before. There's no lube left on Sebastian's fingers, but he spits on them and slides three of them inside of Blaine who sighs in relief when Sebastian swallows him whole.

"Seb." It's a low groan and it's all the warning Sebastian gets before Blaine is tensing under him.

"Fuck, Sebastian," Blaine says eventually. Sebastian barely manages to grunt in response as he crawls back up the bed and nestles into Blaine's side. "Love you," he mumbles sleepily.

"Love you too," Sebastian is pretty sure he replies but he's half asleep before he even finishes thinking it.

Even after two years together Sebastian doesn't really consider himself a fan of post-coital cuddling. But sometimes, in moments like this (when he is drowsy and more asleep than not and Blaine's arms are wrapped tight around him) he might not hate it as much as he claims he does. Sometimes he even intentionally keepst himself awake to experience it a bit longer.

He just reached the stage where he is imaging months and years spent just like this when he's interrupted by the sound of something thundering up the hall stairs. Blaine jerks awake and looks around in confused alarm as Sebastian tightens his hold on his boyfriend. It is unlikely that a burglar (or really anyone with ill intent) would make so much noise but Sebastian isn't willing to just take that risk.

Quickly he scans the room looking for objects that would be used as weapons. The absurd bust that Blaine keeps at his bedside would work in a pinch, and he knows that Blaine keeps his fencing and polo equipment under the bed, so if he can get to them they might be okay. Blaine had some boxing knowledge, although he also had an equal dislike of hurting people, but in a life or death situation he could probably be relied on.

"Baby brotherrr," a voice trills as the door flies open, ricocheting off the wall, giving Blaine just enough time to yank the covers up over them in an attempt to pretend like they aren't both naked. Although it was mostly a pointless effort because towels and clothes litter the floor between the bed and the door and oh, dear god the condom hadn't made it all the way into the garbage can.

"Cooper!" Blaine exclaims as his brother comes bounding into the room.

"Blaine!" Cooper stops mid-stride and freezes in horror, taking in the sight before him. "You said you weren't having sex!" Sebastian had been slowly plucking up the courage to roll over so he could see Cooper but just staying there seemed like a better idea, especially when Blaine all but yells back,

"I wasn't!"

"We had that conversation a week ag-" Sebastian actually felt the shift in the room as Blaine's older brother put two and two together. "BLAINE DEVON ANDERSON!"

Sebastian rolls over in time to see all the color drain from both Anderson brothers' faces before his stomach lurches. "Curtis?" He croaks.

"Who?" Both boys turn to look at him in confusion.

"You just must… look like someone I know. " It was Curtis. Or well, apparently not Curtis. Cooper. But Sebastian would recognize that hair and those eyes anywhere. "Old school friend, from Paris," he lies hurriedly because Blaine is starting to look as alarmed as he felt.

"Happens all the time," Cooper blusters with his chest puffed out. "Cooper Anderson." He strikes a pose that is apparently supposed to mean something to him.

Sebastian breathes a sigh of relief that he hadn't been recognized. His face hasn't changed that much in the last few years, but he is wearing his hair differently now—longer than it had been in France, especially when it wasn't styled— and his intensive lacrosse and soccer schedules means he had filled out considerably. Plus, Cooper had been really, really drunk. As distorting as beer goggles were, whisky goggles were even worse.

"Coop!" Blaine shouts, completely scandalized because Cooper is now reaching across the bed to shake Sebastian's hand in greeting.

"I can't let down my adoring public, squirt."

"He is not your adoring public. He's never seen you before in his life. Now would you please get out of my room so we can put some clothes on!"

"Sure thing, squirt." Cooper looks too surprised by Blaine's outburst to argue but not concerned enough to not send an overly exaggeration wink in Sebastian's direction as he backed out of the room.

They had just sank back into the pillows in relief when the door pops open again and Cooper sticks his head in the room, hand covering his eyes. "Don't think we aren't having a very serious conversation about this in the near future," he informs them before running back out.

"So that was my brother," Blaine says despondently as they hunt around the room for something to wear. "Typical of him. He hasn't been home in over a year then he just shows up uninvited."

"I thought you said your relationship was getting better?" Blaine rarely talks about his older brother. They were together almost three months before Sebastian even knew that Blaine wasn't an only child.

Blaine shrugs. "He calls to harass me about life twice a month instead of only once. Mostly we just talk about his career, though. And he gives me tips on how to make it in the real world."

"Any of them useful?"

"Depends on how useful you think being told to talk in accents to waitresses is. Apparently it gets you all sorts of things."

"Of this I will make a note," Sebastian said in a heavy French accent. Blaine, he knows, loves when he speaks French. Often it drove him to the point of distraction, which maybe was what he was hoping to achieve. Anything to never have to see not-Curtis again.

"You are not getting anything from me, Sebastian Smythe," scolds Blaine. "My brother is downstairs and if we aren't down there soon he's going to come back and I wouldn't be at all surprised if he decided to critique my blowjob technique."

"Kinky."

"He's my brother, Sebastian," hisses Blaine.

Instantly the smirk dies on Sebastian's lips because joking about sex with Cooper is significantly less funny because he actually had had sex with Cooper. "Sorry." It seems such an inadequate thing to say given what had happened but this revelation was a secret he was going to be taking to the grave with him.

"C'mon. We should get to the kitchen before he burns it down in an attempt to make lunch." He takes Sebastian's hand in his and starts to lead him to the door but before they make it out of the room Sebastian tugs him backwards and presses an intimate kiss into the back of his neck and swats gently at his ass, mindful of the fact that it is probably still sore.

"Love you," he whispers.

"Love you too." Blaine smiles up at him; that wide, contagious, beaming grin that Sebastian most loves to see on his face.

He can't help but return the smile with one of his own. "Let's go then." Maybe lunch wouldn't be so bad after all.

(It's worse than bad, but that's a story for a different time.)