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: wanted to write something short and fluffy (that actually starts kinda angsty) while i'm working on a bigger fic.

Any Of Those Things;;

Two years. If anyone ever asked Sebastian Smythe how long he'd thought of his best friend as more than just a friend he'd have to say two years.

The first day of those two years coincided with a break-up neither of them mentioned again once Blaine's broken heart mended, but it's a day he wouldn't soon forget. Because beneath the anger over what Kurt did to Blaine, the shame he felt over not speaking up sooner, the sympathy he felt for the frail boy shaking in his arms, there was the growing sensation that his best friend, this boy he'd known his entire life, was actually the best thing about him.

Blaine made him smile when he felt there was little to smile about, made him topple over laughing and clutch his stomach when he wasn't even trying to be funny, made him rethink things that had seemed like certainties before. Blaine was a hurricane, but also his shelter from the storm.

And every day since that day he's been desperately keeping his tongue tied around a speech he feels like orating every time Blaine showed up on his doorstep, eyes brimming with tears, because another boy had chosen to stomp all over that big beautiful heart, and Blaine had been too blind to see it coming.

Blaine had always been this, loving too big, too completely, too altogether careless to know when something was slipping away, when he was holding on too tight to a relationship he'd fallen into without proper footing and the ground beneath his feet started getting shaky the moment the smallest crack appeared.

Not that he was any better, his one and only relationship that actually warranted the term had crashed and burned in a matter of months and left him with the dull sense that some things were simply out of his control. He hadn't possessed the tools to fix things with Adam, nor did he have the motivation, there was only Blaine on his doorstep with a tub of Ben & Jerry's Banana Split (which was Blaine's favorite, not his) and he'd decided his heart was safe right there, in his best friend's fragile hands.

Of course, two years ago, on that fateful rainy day, his feelings for Blaine had been a mere realization, one that time had affirmed and reaffirmed and had grown into something significantly more serious, but he'd never spoken about to anyone. He didn't want to mess up their friendship, and Blaine always seemed to find solid ground after leaving the comfort of his arms.

It was a painful thing for him to witness, there'd be the initial crush Blaine wouldn't stop talking about and the first time it'd been worth it because this was a whole new side to Blaine, and Blaine deserved all the love he could get. There was the honeymoon phase where he fell in love, and his eyes would shine, his jokes would get even worse and for a little while after he'd lose his best friend to a boy that wasn't him. But that was okay, because Blaine was happy.

And then it all fell apart.

The first break-up had been the hardest, to see how love-now-gone could shatter Blaine into a million indiscernible pieces he had to puzzle back together again–their friendship the corners, their bond the outlines, and the weeks following the break-up spent slowly coloring Blaine in between the lines.

For some reason, this last break-up, the third in two years, felt different. Blaine had been quiet all night, hadn't detailed the reasons he and Eli broke up, and they sat watching bad television like they did all the time. When he pushed Blaine shrugged and said it just didn't work out, it happens, but he could tell from the way his eyes remained downcast there was something he wasn't saying. Maybe something he wasn't ready to share.

"Can I stay over?" Blaine asked as the night drew to a close, small and fidgety and scared as if he hadn't asked and gotten a positive answer before. Something was wrong that ran much deeper than what had happened with Eli, and it frustrated him to no end that he couldn't figure out what that was.

They got ready for bed and crawled between the sheets, Blaine still unresponsive and awkward.

"Can you–" Blaine hesitated, but he knew what that silence entailed, what it left unspoken.

"Come here," he said, opening his arms like he'd done so often, regardless of a break-up or a broken heart.

Blaine scooted closer and laid down in his arms, head on his shoulder and arms tucked close to his side.

"Thank you," Blaine whispered.

"What for?

"For always being here for me," Blaine answered, and he felt a frown forming between his eyebrows; if ever there was a thing that didn't need to be said, that could remain unspoken without future resentment, it was their being there for each other. No matter what.

He squeezed a hand around Blaine's shoulder and inhaled the remnant scent of raspberry, but he didn't say a word.

Blaine was keeping something from him, and he didn't like it.

The morning light doesn't bring any answers or a new perspective. There's a mess of boy curled into the sheets next to him, still fast asleep, snoring softly, and all he can think about is keeping him there forever, that way he can't get hurt again and this confusion might vanish.

It makes no sense, why Blaine would chose this moment to shut down, to stop sharing what they've always been comfortable telling each other, and the more he thinks about it the more curiosity starts gnawing at him.

Maybe Eli had hurt him more profoundly than Sam or Kurt, but that was a hard thing to imagine; Eli had only ever come across as a decent guy who cared about Blaine. In fact he thought Eli might've been the keeper Blaine had been looking for, despite his own wish to be that person for Blaine. He wants to be the one to wake up with Blaine in his arms and have him stay there, he longs to be the one taken for granted because of how well Blaine knows him, wishes he could be his be all end all, be on the receptive end of those golden heart eyes.

And he's not altogether sure why he's never said anything to Blaine.

He tries to put it out of his mind as best as he can, Blaine needs him for comfort, not for worry, and if there's one thing he can conjure, it's that dopey-ass smile that could win over anyone.

Blaine gets up half an hour later, his curls tousled all over.

"Morning, sleepy," he says, and walks over with a fresh cup of coffee. "You get some rest?"

"Some," Blaine says, poking at a corner of his eye, and sits down at the kitchen table.

The silence that stretches between them does nothing to stifle his eagerness to know what happened; Blaine seems okay, and it's hard to fool him after all these years, but there still had to be a reason for Blaine and Eli to break up besides the fact that it happens.

"I made you blueberry pancakes from scratch," he says, if only to entreat the faint hint of a smile. "Your favorite."

Blaine looks up at him with sleepy eyes and smiles. "You always know exactly what I need."

"It's a gift." He grins, his nerves quenched for now, and readies another few spoonfuls of batter.

"I love you."

He doesn't register the words until after the spatula screeches across the bottom of the pan and tumbles to the floor, batter blotting his clothes. His head snaps up and his eyes search for Blaine, who's quietly panicking and trying to act like nothing happened at all.

"What?" he asks, his heart undergoing mild implosions. Did he really hear it? Did it mean–?

"No, I meant–" Blaine blurts out, squirms where he sits and closes his eyes, his hands up in surrender or undecided on where to settle. "I didn't mean–" He shakes his head. "Like a–"

He closes the distance between them in two firm strides, grabs hold of the chair's armrests and drags it around to face him, Blaine cringing with a strange "ah-ahhh" as the feet of the chair drag hard streaks across the floor.

"Blaine–" he insists as calmly as he can manage while his heart beats up a storm inside his chest, thoughts coursing through him at the speed of light: is this why he broke up with Eli? Did Blaine feel the same way he did? Had they both been blind to this for so long it had almost stopped them from communicating?

"What did you just say?" he asks.

Blaine swallows hard and looks up at him, his hazel eyes laden with an affect he fails to decipher. "I love you," Blaine says, the small boy who'd sought shelter last night gone without a trace; before him sits his best friend who knows exactly what he said, exactly what his meaning was, and realizes all too well he can never take it back.

And he'd never want him too.

He shoots forward and pushes his lips up against Blaine's, Blaine's body jerking back from the initial shock but it isn't long before Blaine melts against him, his lips opening to deepen the kiss and he just barely gets it in: "I love you too."

#

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