disclaimer: without prejudice. the names of all characters contained here-in are the property of FOX and Ryan Murphy. no infringments of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.
author's notes: written for Seblaine Sunday, prompt: road trip.
Out the Back & Down the Road;;
The heat swelters oppressive and wet, sweat beading at his temples as he makes his way out of the service station towards the car. He replaces the empty water bottles in the cooler on the back seat with the ones he bought fresh, casting a glance at Blaine, who's at the payphone making a call to his mother.
"Yeah, mom, we're fine," he manages to make out and he smiles; Mrs Anderson had insisted they called in as many times as they could while travelling from Ohio to Los Angeles, which Blaine had neglected to do for about four days now, mostly because he hadn't bothered reminding him–Mrs Anderson stressed Blaine out with her incessant worries more often than not, so he hadn't felt the need to add to that.
"Because I'm saving my batteries," Blaine says, while he takes another gander at their route through Utah. After travelling Trail Ridge Road from Estes Park to Grand Lake in Colorado, they were now making their way to the south of Utah. Blaine had meticulously typed out their entire itinerary, down to the exact hour they had to arrive at every stop, all tucked neatly into a folder he kept on his lap every time it was his turn to ride shotgun.
Sebastian would've preferred to keep this loose and fun, but he'd only pointed out Blaine's OCD-like tendencies a few times–they'd saved up to make this trip for so long it seemed like a dream when it finally started happening, so he allowed Blaine's unadulterated enthusiasm, even if it came in the form of laminated Google Maps print-outs.
Behind him, Blaine sighs, "Yes, I still have the pepper spray you got me," he says, and when he turns to face his boyfriend, Blaine's eyes are spelling out a very distinct SOS. He smiles and walks over, just as Blaine wraps up with a quick, "Mom, I have to go. I'll call you when we get to the next stop, okay?"
He grabs at Blaine's hips, who rolls his eyes at something his mother says, ending the call with a decisive, "Love you."
"You know she only worries harder every time you call her," he says, pulling his boyfriend flush against him, even though it's way too hot to have their bodies plastered together.
Blaine reaches his arms up around his neck and releases a calming breath. "It's like I haven't been living on my own in New York for the past three years," he exasperates, Sebastian's cue to change the subject before the next hour of their trip turns sour.
He unearths a pair of sunglasses from one of his shorts' pockets. "Here. Got you these," he says, and puts them on for Blaine, softly kissing his nose once the glasses are in place. Blaine had lost his own pair somewhere between their third and fifth motel and quickly realized they couldn't go back for them. So he'd toughed out a few days without new ones, but the Utah sun had made it near impossible for Blaine to drive during the day without getting blinded. "For your sensitive raccoon eyes."
And the distraction seems to work; Blaine smiles up at him, the glasses unable to hide the way his eyes wrinkle around the corners, and pulls him down to his height, capturing his lips with his own, tongue stroking languid into his mouth until they stand entangled in each other's bodies.
He still gets overwhelmed by how in love he feels with Blaine, even after two years (and a few weeks). He never thought they'd make it this far, had laughed at Blaine's idea to start saving up for this transcontinental road trip together, all their money gathered on a joint bank account.
But somehow the all-consuming passion he'd felt for Blaine when they first met had transformed into something far more lasting, more than passion and beyond the physical.
There aren't many people he would've withstood this journey with. As strong as some of his friendships are, Santana doesn't do the outdoors, Hunter's no fun to travel with for extended periods of time, Quinn wouldn't go with him in a million years, and Nick and Jeff didn't do anything without the other present, and he had no desire to third-wheel that pairing.
He'd seen a lot of places before meeting Blaine, there was Paris and the South of France, Italy and Greece and Spain. He'd once spent a weekend in Amsterdam with a guy who was backpacking through Europe, and his parents had taken him as far as India and Japan. But there were so many more places he wanted to see. The only thing that stood in his way were his funds, because as long as he didn't solely apply himself to his future career, his father didn't spare him a dime. And that made travelling very difficult.
And then there was Blaine, eyes big and bright, smile warm and kind, with a wanderlust that equaled his own.
Blaine pulls back, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "We should get going."
Sebastian sighs. "Is it even possible to get cockblocked by your own boyfriend?"
Blaine slaps his ass as he pushes past him. "Ass in gear, Smythe," he commands, the way that only Blaine is allowed to, "We're on a schedule."
He chuckles and shakes his head, but faithfully follows Blaine to the car. He shouldn't complain, now that the summer's started and they're in each other's company without school or work or friends interfering, they've been going at it almost every night, taking full advantage of their time together, whether it was in a shady back road motel where the walls were paper thin or on a blanket spread out underneath a starlit sky.
They found time to have sex back home despite their crazy schedules, but there was something to be said about spending every minute of every day with the person you often caught yourself picturing the rest of your life with. He hasn't said anything yet, but one of these nights he's going to ask Blaine to move in with him as soon as they both graduate college.
"You're driving," he calls, and tosses Blaine the keys, which he catches easily. Blaine takes the trouble of opening the car door before he climbs in, while he merely hoists his legs over the side and slides into the seat.
He watches Blaine get comfortable, adjusting the rear view mirror to his height and put the car in gear, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure he won't back into any obstructions.
"Admit it," he hums. "The car's growing on you."
All he gets in response is a cheeky grin, before Blaine's steering them back onto the I-70, continuing their route towards Bryce Canyon National Park.
The first time Blaine saw the Lincoln Continental his eyes had almost popped out of his head; he'd been charged with renting them a suitable vehicle for their trip because he knew more about cars, which became evident the moment Blaine hissed, "This car is ancient."
"This car is a classic," he retorted, holding the car door open for Blaine to have a seat, having decided to take Blaine for a test drive through town. Blaine had huffed and gotten in reluctantly, but he'd stopped arguing the moment he popped the roof, revealing the car was also a convertible.
Blaine's mom had a very similar reaction to the car when they made their first stop in Ohio, though she actually pitched a fit and screamed for her husband to come outside, informing him there was no way her baby was going to drive to Los Angeles in an old rust bucket. Blaine tried to calm her down, but surprisingly it took his dad coming outside, casting one glance at the car, and nodding in agreement to ease her into the idea. At least there was one Anderson with a taste in cars.
And Blaine had nothing but mellowed to the car ever since, even praising it one night in Colorado, the car parked right off a cliff he suspected attracted many young couples, the sky bigger than either of them had seen it, and Blaine was sitting against his chest in the back seat, wrapped in his arms, a blanket enveloping both of them. They'd end up regretting falling asleep like that, both of them sore as hell in the morning, but that's not the part either of them will remember.
Besides, Santana was counting on stories about one or both of them being complete idiots.
.
Blaine has always loved the outdoors, ever since his father had deemed him old enough to join him and his brother on their three-day camping trips where he taught them basic survival skills and took them fishing. Neither he or Cooper were ever boy scouts, they already had too many extracurricular activities to fit that in as well, so their father had turned it into a special treat.
His mother used to laugh and say they only enjoyed it so much because it got them time off school, but he genuinely loved the feeling of being somewhere else, somewhere new, where the rain smelled the same yet slightly different, the dirt felt foreign between his fingers; America offered one extreme after the other and he loved it.
Unfortunately he'd never found the time or the funds to make a trip like this before. Most summers in high school were spent making money, and what time he did find were somehow spent on trying to convince his boyfriend that the outdoors could be fun. He'd almost put his dream aside as something he'd inevitably end up doing on his own, not that he minded, but that made it starkly less enticing to pursue.
And then there was Sebastian.
Sebastian was everything his previous boyfriends weren't, which might be the reason they're working out. He was judgmental when he needed to be handled, supportive when he needed the encouragement, funny, sarcastic, shamelessly sincere, as painfully insecure as he was sometimes, excruciatingly frustrating from time to time, and none too economical in his compliments.
And against all odds, Sebastian was in love with him.
Their relationship hadn't started in the most traditional sense, or not in any way that he was used to: Quinn had introduced them at a party, and after a half hour of flirty banter, Sebastian grabbing his ass on the dance floor, and probably one too many shots, they'd ended up at Sebastian's place having some of the best sex ever.
It wasn't until he woke up in Sebastian's dorm the next day that he noticed the giant map pinned up on the wall, red dot stickers singling out several places around the world.
"You've been to all these?" he'd asked once Sebastian caught him staring.
Sebastian nodded, "And determined to see a whole lot more."
That's when he told Sebastian it was his dream to trek America one day, he didn't care what route or even where he'd end up, and Sebastian had charmingly added it wasn't about the destination, it was about the journey.
It became clear quite fast that they'd be taking that journey together, as friends, at first, but after a few months they knew they'd be travelling as boyfriends.
Looking at Sebastian now, his legs sticking out one side of the car so that he's sitting close to him, his head resting back so his face bathes in sunlight, the wind streaking through his hair, makes him wonder what reasons they ever find to fight about anything. Because his boyfriend's gorgeous in every which way. And he's so incredibly in love with him.
They decided to take one week getting to Los Angeles, stopping to see some of the sights along the way, spent a week in Los Angeles, with or without Cooper, and take two weeks travelling back to New York.
And maybe he'd gone a little overboard, but it took them two years to get the money and the time for this trip, during which their relationship only evolved into something more serious, and he watched his dream getting bigger every day. So when they'd hit their desired budget, with a little help from their friends and family at Christmas, they'd spent night after night planning and plotting and dividing tasks. He'd taken it upon himself to add an extra task here and there, like make mix tapes they both ended up howling to together, laminating road maps in case the weather changed, double and triple checking their extensive list of things to bring and things to do–packing more lube than they'd require.
But Sebastian had taken most of it in stride, making him realize it wasn't his dream getting bigger. It was Sebastian's dream too.
"Penny for your thoughts," Sebastian asks, and he turns sideways to see he's lifted up his sunglasses to look at him, his eyes squinting against the sunlight and his nose wrinkled.
"Nothing." He smiles, and focuses on the road again. "I'm just a lucky guy, that's all."
Sebastian leans into him. "You are," he says, pushing a kiss to his neck. But Sebastian lingers there; his feet slide down off the side of the car and he scoots a little closer, licking a line from his throat up behind his ear, where he gently nibbles his skin.
He can't stop himself from relaxing against Sebastian's mouth. "Baby, I'm driving," he protests weakly, rearranging his fingers around the wheel.
"And I'm not," comes Sebastian's idiotic reply, but he doesn't complain when Sebastian applies his tongue to his neck over and over, each time accompanied by his lips puckering over the spot, small soft nipping kisses everywhere he can reach.
He absolutely loves it, and he's never loved this car for its front bench seat and column shifter more, because Sebastian's able to sit as close as he pleases without a central console getting in his way. It's a nice distraction from the long empty desert road ahead, but when Sebastian's hand runs up his thigh, palming gently at his cock, he thinks Sebastian has a lot more in mind.
"Baby," he whimpers, Sebastian's hand working his crotch in slow circles, until it slips under the waistband of his shorts and grabs a firm hold of his hard-on. "Sebastian," he gasps, leather around the wheel squealing where he's gripping it tight. "I can–I can pull over," he says, desperate for more of Sebastian's hand and mouth, but he has to keep his focus.
"No." Sebastian works his hand up and down his length, looser around the base and squeezing towards his tip, exactly the way he likes it. "I've always wanted to try this," Sebastian grants him a wicked grin and pulls his shorts out of the way, licking his lips.
And he all but loses it right there, the thought of what Sebastian's suggesting making his heart rate spike.
"Eyes on the road, killer," Sebastian winks and changes his position, his head down in his lap until his tongue licks at his tip, teasing at his slit and around the head for several moments. Since there's no one around he doesn't hold back a squeak of surprise when Sebastian takes him deeper into his mouth, one hand playing with his balls.
His head lilts back for one second and it's enough to make them swerve over the median, his whole body jerking and heart jumping for more reasons than one. "Fuck, baby," he moans, but Sebastian makes no move to stop, simply humming around him.
He grabs the wheel even tighter as Sebastian keeps sucking his cock, and he forces himself to adjust to the rhythm, Sebastian's head bobbing up and down, focus split between the road and exactly what Sebastian's mouth's doing to him. "Hmm," he hums, bouncing one of his legs a few times and slamming a hand against the steering wheel, but heat surges through him and his hips buck up, causing his boyfriend to gag a little.
"I'm sorry," he breathes in a rush, the tight heat of Sebastian's mouth making him no more coherent. "I'm sorry."
Sebastian pulls off him in a filthy wet pop. "It's okay," his voice sounds raw, "Do it again."
And before he knows it Sebastian takes him even deeper, he squeezes his eyes shut and it takes a few seconds to sink in he can't afford to do that. He shudders and writhes in his seat, but one of his hands finds the back of Sebastian's head, fingers tangling in his hair, guiding his boyfriend's head while he shallowly fucks up into his mouth.
"Ahh, shit," he curses, swerving again and he can't coordinate this while driving a car, he's too hard and too hot and too close to coming. "I'm close, baby, I'm–" he starts, but then Sebastian's hand wraps around his base and starts jerking him off, while his mouth focuses on his tip again, sucking hard.
He grabs back for the seat and barely misses the brake with his outstretched leg before he's coming, "Oh God!" he cries, shooting in Sebastian's mouth in long spurts, "Oh my God."
Sebastian works him through his orgasm, licking up every drop of come.
He's all jitters and has to steer them into the right lane again, his thighs jell-o and his cock twitching with aftershocks.
Sebastian tugs him back inside his shorts and turns around on his back, settling his head in his lap, careful to avoid the sensitive area. And just when he thinks he's suffered enough distractions, Sebastian reaches down for his own cock, moaning sinfully as he touches his hard-on through his shorts for a few moments, before exposing his cock entirely, hard and leaking, tip red and swollen.
He swallows hard and feels his mouth go dry, torn between focusing on where they're going and transfixing his eyes on Sebastian jerking himself off. His cock twitches in interest and he can't stop himself–he stretches an arm out and bats Sebastian's hand away, grabbing a hand around his boyfriend's cock, thick and heavy. He spreads the beading precome at his tip with his thumb and strokes down.
"Yeah, baby, just like that," Sebastian moans, head lolling in his lap, one of his hands pulling up his shirt to play with his nipples. "Just the way I like it."
Sebastian bucks up in his hand. "So close," he whispers, so he picks up his efforts, twisting his fist and stroking up and down until Sebastian's release rips through his body, his abdomen tensing and he tightens his grip, Sebastian's hips bucking up into his fist, semen dripping over his hand.
"Shit, killer," Sebastian breathes.
They fall silent for the longest time, his right hand on Sebastian's exposed abdomen, and if it wasn't for Sebastian's fingers tracing up and down his arm he would've thought he'd fallen asleep. But this is what this road trip has allowed them to become, making them both see that they can tolerate each other's company 24/7, while that wouldn't be true for every person in their lives. Who knows, maybe they're even ready to move in together soon.
"Baby, can you–?" He points at the glove compartment, Sebastian's come a dried mess on his chest and his hand. "There's wet wipes in the glove box."
Sebastian laughs, but doesn't move. "Of course there are."
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