notes: just to be clear, while kurt and blaine may have dated blaine has never met sebastian before prior to this
000
Blaine has always wanted to live in Boston. He used to have grandparents who had a small house on the North End, just big enough for his tiny grandmother and grandfather who had a large selection of pattered bowties. He used to visit in the summer, before his grandma got sick—she'd take him along the Boston Harbor to watch seagulls (and sometimes feed them) or get him a pastry as big as his arm at Mike's Pastry shop. He'd used to wander in Quincy Square with his grandpa, when the day was waning into night and the air smelled like rain.
Every summer, like clockwork, he'd let the city even more into his heart.
Bean town, Fenway Park, a Dunkin Doughnuts on nearly every corner that carried his favorite hazelnut coffee. The skyline and the beautiful Zakim Bridge, the steel cables reminding him of the chords of a guitar, strumming gently while being plucked, ricocheting against the tubes of his heart.
He breathes this city. He knew from a very small age that he had wanted to live here.
And he's finally getting the chance.
He doesn't know if he could live in New York anyways, his entire plan turning upside down and landing on it's ass when he broke up with Kurt in his senior year of high school. They had talked about proposals, about moving in together and maybe even attending the same school, impressive dreams of grandeur, of being happy.
But Blaine couldn't remember a time when he had been happy in a long time. He had loved Kurt, still does, but he doesn't enjoy who he becomes with Kurt. He's insecure and tends to stretch himself thin just to make someone happy but then is keen to forget about his own happiness. Kurt hadn't noticed him, hadn't made him feel like he fit into his life, like there was even room for him.
So he took their broken relationship and let it fall to the floor, stopped trying to repair it with tape and glue and good intentions. He let it smash into splinters, something that can't be repaired.
Boston is his chance to start over. To retain some of the person he used to be, or at least become someone that he can actually look at in the mirror.
He looks out the window as the taxi pulls up in front of an apartment complex on the North End, swirls of memories assaulting him as he steps out of the car, the grass an emerald green under his feet from a series of rain showers.
Ashley runs down the steps and squeals when she sees him and he laughs, opening his arms to pick her up as she jumps against him with the tightest hug he's ever gotten. But that's perfectly fine with him, the slight squeezing sensation around his shoulders just sets him into reality: he's here, he's really doing this.
The benefit of visiting Boston every summer when he was little up until his sophomore year of high school has had its benefits, and one of them was meeting Ashley. He knew right away that if he came to live here he wanted it to be with her. He had met her at a coffee shop, of all places, in Quincy Market one June when he was twelve and has been close with her ever since.
She's lovely, sunshine disposition, easy going but she has a side to her that makes Blaine know that she can take care of herself. That she'll never let anyone step on her on make her feel small, that she'll never sacrifice herself to make others happy—it's one of the things he admires most, that he loves…it's something he definitely wants to take notes on.
He sets her down with a grin. "When did you get here?"
"A few hours ago! All moved in, still in boxes of course, our living room sort of looks like a city scape with everything piled so high," Blaine chuckles. "I was just about to go out and get some lunch to bring back, but if you want I can stay and help."
"No, no, don't even worry about it. I just have a few boxes in the trunk and then a suitcase or two. Nothing serious." He had been trying to leave some things behind. Things that remind him of Kurt, things that tell him he's still in need of some repair, that he's not whole.
"And what about your baggage?" She asks, almost knowingly, wisps of her strawberry blonde hair blow over her shoulder from the wind. Blaine smiles softly but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You have some of that too?"
"Unfortunately that's not as easy to box up and leave somewhere else." He mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.
She hums, nodding her head. "Well, lunch is on me. I'll be back soon." She ruffles her fingers through his curls and even though he swats her away, he sort of likes it, the lack of gel freeing in more ways than one. She giggles, squeezes his hand before stepping away.
Ashley makes it about two steps away from him before turning back as he's reaching inside the cab for his bag. "Oh, and even if you don't need help with the bags…you should knock on door 7. He helped me with some of my boxes." She grins.
Blaine knows that smile, knows it better than he thinks he wants to. He rolls his eyes, but it's still playful. "I take it our neighbor is good looking?"
She scoffs. "Blaine. Gorgeous is an understatement."
"I'm not interested, Ash." He says before she gets wound up. He's talked through his break up with Kurt with her a million times over and while he appreciates her always looking out for him, he wants to focus on himself.
He needs to build himself back up before he can even consider being with anyone else.
"You don't need to be interested to appreciate." She sing-songs. "He has the longest legs I've ever seen," Her voice his giddy as she follows him to the steps, Blaine taking his time to pile a few boxes up before he goes back for a bag. "Like, for miles, Blaine. And his mouth, he's got some great lips…if you know what I'm saying."
"I don't know what you're saying."
"You know what I'm saying." She counteracts, raising her eyebrows at him before clicking her tongue off the roof of her mouth.
He gives her a look that tells her to stop but he can't quite keep the smile off his face. "What?" She says innocently. "You don't have to be interested to fantasize either."
Blaine sighs, gets his wallet out to pay the cabbie and makes sure he has all his bags and boxes before he allows him to pull away.
A moment passes between them, Ashely's hands stuck in her pockets as she sways back in forth on the heels of her feet. "I can't tell if he's into dick or not so that's probably something you should fact check before you sing a dirty-romance song to him in the GAP."
"That was one time!" He exasperates, his face growing red, glancing around like there might be someone to hear that he tends to make big romantic gestures at the wrong time and place.
Ashley laughs, her head thrown back slightly and Blaine would probably admit to himself that she's pretty when she does it but his cheeks are far too flammable at this point that he can't bring himself to appreciate her.
"His name is Sebastian. Door 7, you can thank me later!" She grins, waving at him as she backs away from him, moving down the street to only turn and walk forward.
Blaine shakes his head, looking up at the apartment building before chewing on his lower lip. He does not think about how he has a weakness for long legs as he carries the first box into the complex.
000
He manages to get all of his things up three flights of stairs, setting them all in a row outside of his door to make sure he's not blocking the hallway. He's just opening the door that's ajar, Ashley still has yet to give him his own key, when the door across from him opens at the same time. A tall, lanky male steps out, on his cell phone—
and he's speaking perfect French.
The syllables trace over his skin and seep into his pours and it takes him a long moment to realize that the guy has hung up on his call and asked him a question.
"Uh," He gulps. Has his mouth been open the whole time? "What?"
He chuckles, glances down the hall and runs a hand through his sandy colored hair which is spiked a bit in different directions. "I said do you need help with your boxes, Apartment #9."
Blaine is so unbelievably screwed. He recognizes him as Sebastian just from his legs alone. And Ashley was right, gorgeous is an understatement. And he seems the type to know it too—his cockiness probably frustrating and alluring all at the same time.
"No, no I uh, I wouldn't want to put you out of you way," Blaine waves off, clearing his throat as he tries to move away from this conversation as quickly as possible. "You already done more than enough by helping out Ashley." He picks up one of the boxes.
"Oh so you've heard of me," Sebastian winks and Blaine loses a corner of one of the boxes, catches it quickly and flushes red.
The only problem with the plan of running away into his apartment with a box in hands is that he needs the door held open. He's trying to do so with his foot but if he's not careful the door could fall closed and then he wouldn't have a key to get in until Ashley comes back.
Sebastian reaches out and wraps his long (God, so long, piano fingers—of course. Not that he notices or anything) fingers around the top of the door, tugging it open so Blaine can walk inside. He's dumbstruck for a moment but then moves, shaking his head like he's trying to clear the fog or get rid of the dirty images that somehow involve Sebastian's fingers and this is
so
Ashely's
"Your girlfriend is nice," Sebastian says as Blaine sets the box on the kitchen counter. "I mean, she seems like she could talk for ages but," He shakes his head and puts his hands up in front of his chest, chuckling lightly. "To each's own. Having a large set of lungs could really come in handy, I guess."
He licks his lips and his eyes tick down Blaine's form, bright green tracing the contours of his body. Blaine barely notices, is too busy choking on a noise and a laugh at the same time because of all the ways for Sebastian to bring up Ashley, he hadn't expected that.
"No, she's…she's not my girlfriend."
Sebastian hums. "Not your type?"
There's something in the inflection of his voice that tips Blaine off that there might be a lot more to the simple question than just Ashley herself. But he's not sure, he can't read Sebastian very well. He's usually pretty okay with reading people, like their secrets are printed on their skin. But it's different with him, like the words are in another language, French maybe. He can't tell if he's gay or if just incredibly flirty.
"You can say that." Blaine smiles softly, tilting his head towards the hall to infer that they should get the rest of his things.
He feels the heat of Sebastian's body press against his back as they move into the hallway, their steps almost synchronized, can almost feel the magnetic electricity that's coming from both of their skin, mingling in the air between them.
Blaine picks up a bag as Sebastian grabs a box and they move a few times in and out of his place before there's only two things left in the hall.
"So, you have a name?" He asks, a wide grin that does something weird to Blaine's stomach. "Or I could keep calling you Apt #9 if you'd rather but it's so incredibly formal." He teases.
He laughs softly, cheeks kissing pink. "My informal name is Blaine." He shakes his hand, his thumb tracing the warm skin of his inner wrist, Sebastian's grip firm and encompassing. The feeling his touch leaves behind nearly swallows him whole. "Anderson." He adds, a few moments later.
Sebastian bends to pick up a box near his feet, a chuckle tumbling out of his lips that's warm and sends a stutter right through his system, the noise light and airy. It's something he could definitely get used to hearing.
"Blaine," He says slowly, like he's testing the word in his mouth. "Anyone ever call you 'B' before?"
Blaine shakes his head, his eyes falling to the box in his arms labeled KITCHEN and pales. "Uh," He trips over his words, distracted. "No, not really. My name is short, I don't need a nickname." He says absentmindedly before reaching for the box.
"I got this one, why don't you take the last one."
Sebastian shakes his head and hums gently, turning a little so Blaine can't take it. "Or I could get both of them, I heard chivalry looks hot on some people." He winks.
But Blaine can't even concentrate on Sebastian being a cheeky, and while still incredibly sexy, little shit because all he can think about is how he needs to get that box back.
"You can get the door," Blaine offers, grabbing one of the corners. "That's chivalrous too."
"What is it with you and this box—"
"I care a lot about my kitchen supplies okay." He talks over him, a slightly heightened tone to his words and that's so not it but he doesn't have time to say anything else because just when he thinks Sebastian is about to relent he yanks the box towards him.
Which only continues to backfire on him as he realizes Sebastian's hold on one of the corners hasn't eased up, causing the box to tip…
The weight of what's inside forces the flaps open and out tumbles his private collection of (no, not cookbooks) but sex toys. His mouth falls open as they litter the floor and okay, maybe he has… a lot of different things but he likes variety okay, that's not a crime. And that's so not even the point right now because Sebastian iskneelingonthefloor and picking up a pinkdildo.
"Oh, God." Blaine's entire face feels like its on fire, embarrassment clutching his rib cage in a vice grip but he can't seem to get his brain to tell his legs to move to collect all the fucking toys before someone else sees.
Sebastian looks far more amused than he should, looking up at Blaine with a wide grin before glancing at the box that's dangling loosely on his fingertips.
"Do you use these in your kitchen?" He asks, referring to the capped letter word on the cardboard.
'Sometimes' is so not the answer he's looking for. "No." His voice squeaks and he kneels down to take the dildo out of Sebastian's hand which really shouldn't be as gingerly as it seems because Sebastian seems to know how to hold the damn thing and he is sonotthinkingaboutthat.
Sebastian laughs but he can tell in his haze of picking up a variety of dildos and a vibrator that is buzzing from the fall onto the floor and beads fucking God he feels naked out here in the hallway, that he's not exactly laughing at Blaine more than just the situation.
"While flustered definitely looks hot on you, relax, this isn't exactly the first time I've held a dildo in my hands, Anderson."
Definitely gay then; there's really no question he has about it anymore.
He stuffs the toys back into the box and closes his eyes a moment, tries to relax his pounding heartbeat and ignore the buzzing that's still going on inside the box like he has a pet fucking rattlesnake in there or something.
Sebastian slides past him, body purposely pressing against his side now as he does so, the smell of his skin and cologne stuck inside his nostrils and seared into the tissue of his lungs so that he's there hours later when he breathes.
He picks up the other box and they carry them wordlessly into his apartment. He sets the box that's in his arms down and kicks it with his foot a little to see if the buzzing will stop but it won't, his cheeks a fire truck red as he rubs them with his fingertips.
The taller smirks, reaches out and runs his thumb over his cheekbone, the action incredibly intimate for two people who've just met. Then again, Sebastian has seen his entire sex toy collection so what's more intimate than that, really.
Ashley chooses that moment to walk in, Sebastian pulling his hand away quickly as Blaine tips his chin down and looks at his shoes like they hold the secrets to the world on them.
"Uh, hi?" She offers, stepping in and putting the food she brought in white plastic bags on the counter. "Did you want to join us for dinner, Sebastian?"
"Can't," He says, his eyes never leaving Blaine as the shorter finally looks up at him. "But I'll take a raincheck." He smiles softly, starts to back up towards the door. He pauses in the doorframe however, long body half in and out of his apartment.
"And oh, don't hesitate to let me know if you ever need to borrow a cup of sugar," He winks. "Or if you need any help in the kitchen, Blaine."
A short and forced laugh escapes his throat because he's not sure what else to say, just puts his hands on his hips and is somehow infuriated and aroused at Sebastian's forwardness.
"I'm very good with my hands." He winks and with that he's gone.
Ashley moves to close the door, grinning at the pink on Blaine's cheeks. She laughs as she cups the side of his face, making him groan and shake her hand off.
"Well, that seemed to go well." Blaine's not willing to share what has just happened in the hallway, wants to pretend it never existed in the first place.
The silence spaces between them for a moment before Ashley scrunches her nose and looks to what's behind Blaine's ankles. "Is that box buzzing?"
Blaine just shakes his head, a wide smirk, bright green eyes and a warm touch that's burned into his pores all floating to his mind's eye—and all he does is laugh. Something he feels like it's more himself than he has been in a long time.
He'd been right. Boston, it seemed, is just what he needs to start over.