If owned glee do you really think Grant Gustin's contract would've ended? Also R + R + Hopefully enjoy it
The thick-rimmed glasses framing his face inched down his nose as he leant further into his book. His gaze didn't even waver when the doorknob creaked, he just spat "What?" disinterestedly and turned the page with a confident flick.
"No hello today Sunshine? Well I mean, I can't say I'm surprised but still a little courtesy would be nice." Hunter smiled, giving Sebastian a subtly flirtatious grin and a tone bordering on mock offence.
Sebastian took of his glasses, leaving them discarded on the bed as he stood abruptly and began searching through his draws, not once allowing the Captain his full attention. "Don't have time for your shit, Clarington."
"Leaving so soon, Smythe? Don't usually wait until after dark to go on your 'fucking sprees', I mean your face in the fully-lit day can't exactly be the best way to get guys."
"I have things to do." Sebastian stated sourly, as he readjusted the awkwardly placed stake up his blazer sleeve.
"Well then go do them."
He'd barely even finished the sentence before the taller boy was out in the corridor, bag strung easily across his shoulder as the door slammed shut behind him. Great, he thought sarcastically, Training.
Punch, Duck, Dive, Roll, Jump, spring, kick, Repeat.
The rhythm came easily to him; when it came to physicality, most things came easily to him. He figured it was the only perk that came from his whole mess of a life, but Santana was still coming up with reasons as to why they do what they do daily, mostly they was covered with a half hearted snare and a mocking gesture, but he could tell that she really did care, even if it wasn't exactly the most normal of ways to show it.
Punch, duck, dive roll, jump, spring, kick, repeat.
"Good," She grinned breathlessly as he reflected her attack for the final time, it was fairly obvious she needed a break; they both did. Sebastian mirrored her expression, the mutual cocky smirk playing out on both of their lips, as she reached for her bottle. "You're doing better, when you get some time, go over the one that looks like a over-exerted hand job by yourself, okay."
He nodded unenthusiastically as he gathered his discarded blazer and button up from the bench and shoved them gracelessly into his gym bag alongside his books and weapons. "So, if I hit the rosewood cemetery at ten and patrol for a few hours may I be granted freedom on Saturday."
She grinned at him infamously with an inquisitive leer. "What's so special on Saturday that you –Sebastian Smythe - would miss a chance to slay something?"
He was quick to cover his actual plans of doing nothing but being a normal teenager for a few hours by watching movies on his laptop and neglecting to do homework in his free time with a casual lie and a smug simper. "Nothing, it's just a party- at Nick's house and I promised Jeff I'd go-"
"It's fine, I'll do it. As long as you do a couple more hours on Sunday, you'll be better off for it." She bargains, cutting off his soon to be ramble with a well-disguised jab at his skills.
"But I'll have a hangover-" Sebastian whines, a first attempt at playing his sympathy card with Santana "don't you think you could cut me some slack- I don't know let me be a not slayer for the day."
The Latina smirked crudely at the sight of the usually impeccably eager slayer, practically on his knees begging for a day off "No you won't and No I can't, you and I both know very well how quickly slayers heal, recovering from hangovers is included in that package-"
"Oh joy, fun fact Santana is present today!" He mocked, a toothy smile playing across his bored features.
"Fuck off Smythe, someone making the world a safer place is a necessary thing, and you, by some horrible chance, were chosen to be a statistic of the one in ten million who can, so just, I don't know three hours and then come back home for a bit, the girls miss you, okay?"
He nodded guiltily as his fellow slayer exited the abandoned gym, knowing fully well how hard it is to maintain a frenetic household of newly called girls.
He pushed at the light switch, peering cautiously behind when the courts go black and closing the door without another sound. A minute passed and he found himself back at his dorm, staring at the sleeping figure of his asshole of a dorm mate.
He looks almost too peaceful to identify with the boy he knows at day, but then again, Sebastian figures that if Hunter were to see him tossing and turning in his sleep during a prophetical nightmare, it wouldn't exactly fit the day-to-day behaviour of a careless Smythe.