Title: Caped Crusaders
Author: an-alternate-world
Rating: T
Characters/Pairing: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Word Count: 928
Summary: A collection of Nightflash!drabbles prompted via Tumblr, set within the same 'verse.
Warnings/Spoilers: None for this drabble.
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with Glee, FOX, Ryan Murphy, The Flash, The CW, DC Comics or anything else related to the universe.
Anonymous on Tumblr prompted a fic with the first sentence of: "I thought we agreed this is my side of the city, Red Streak."
"It's /The Flash/ now, Gothic Tweety Bird."
Blaine can't help but gape at the lithe man in the red leather and tucks his dark cape closer to him. Generally he finds The Streak a pretentious asshole, someone too cocky and who gets into unnecessarily dangerous situations because he doesn't take the time to properly assess them. For someone so fast, you'd think he'd allow a second to consider the consequences of his actions but noooo, Streak consistently got himself stuck in the middle of things he didn't need to be involved in.
"Not all of us can be so fast that we're barely a smudge on someone's camera," he grumbles, drawing towards the edge of the building and preparing to leave. He doesn't want to sit on a rooftop where he gets insulted by someone with a superiority complex.
"No, some people just like to lurk in the shadows and be little more than a myth," Streak retaliates, zipping to the other side of the building and circling around Blaine slowly. He frowns behind his mask as he watches the moves, something in them both calculated and familiar.
"It's safer to seem as though I don't exist than have people dedicate blogs towards uncovering my identity," he snaps back and something in that seems to work, causes Streak to still and his lips to press together into a thin white line. His safety, his security, concealing who he is from the world is paramount to him. It seemed less important to The Streak's - The Flash, whatever - number one fan, some random CSI who refused to use his real name on the site.
"If you think you can handle the dangers of this city on your own then-"
"Then what? You'll stop coming out at night?" Streak's shoulders seem to sag as he looks at Blaine, a trace of misery flickering in the shadows of his eyes as he reaches out and then stops short.
"If you keep taking over my area, then I don't need to be here. You can get across town faster than me anyway."
Streak's hands falter and then return to his sides, fidgeting with the leather on his hips. "Did you ever think that I like hanging out with you because I-"
The words die in the wind as Streak disappears in a flash of yellow lightning and Blaine is left to stare after him, blinking dumbly for far too long and wondering why it feels as though his heart and stomach shrunk a size.
He stops by his secret, second apartment on the way back home, stowing his outfit and trying not to rub at his chest. What had Streak been about to say? Because he liked Blaine? The idea was preposterous. They had no idea who the other person was and Blaine didn't think it was a wise idea to get tangled up with someone who had just as many secrets - if not more - than him. Not to mention that kid fanboying about any smudge of red on a photo.
His apartment is empty when he gets back to it and he can't help but sigh as he turns on lights and the TV for some noise and begins undressing for bed. He hadn't had much for dinner before going on a quick patrol but Streak's unfinished words have echoed in his head for so long that he's lost his appetite. He's just finished pulling on his sweatpants when the front door shuts and he tries to stem his annoyance as Sebastian bustles through the door with his coat and briefcase and a small bunch of flowers.
"I'm sorry!" Sebastian bursts out, discarding his coat and briefcase and reaching for Blaine. "This case is biting my ass and the prosecutor wants to get life for Brian and-"
Blaine shakes his head as he accepts the flowers and kisses Sebastian softly. He doesn't really care about the latest lowlife Sebastian is defending in court. "Have you eaten?"
Sebastian nods, his eyes scanning over Blaine's face. "Are you okay?"
Blaine pastes on his most convincing smile as he takes the flowers into the kitchen, tossing out the bunch that is looking the most sickly and replacing it with the new one. Their kitchen is a revolving door of flowers and he wonders if he'll ever stop accepting the flowers as apologies and start demanding…coffee, or donuts, or chocolate, or blowjobs.
Well, maybe not blowjobs. Sebastian would enjoy that too much.
Sebastian sinks into his arms as they climb into bed, noting how distant his boyfriend seems tonight. He wonders if it's just the case but he doesn't want to ask. He's not sure he's any less focused.
And when Sebastian falls off to sleep first and Blaine's left thinking about Streak's words, he wonders whether he can keep his dual identities or if he has to give one up. He loves Sebastian but he doesn't want to cheat on him, yet he's intrigued by Streak's sense of moral righteousness and helping people and there's a spark there, something warm that sets him on fire sometimes. Even the insults about his costume fail to affect him anymore.
But he could be risking a lot to leave Blaine Anderson behind and embrace his mythical alter ego…
He watches Sebastian sleep, the way his eyelashes fan across his cheeks and the smattering of freckles on his face. He's not sure how he could ever leave this beautiful, precious man either...
~FIN~