When the opportunity arose, Blaine told Sebastian he had to take it.
"This is everything you want," he said. "You'd be crazy to refuse."
Sebastian had been unsure, and wavered back and forth between going and staying for two months, while Blaine quietly updated his passport. He made the vaccination appointments while Sebastian debated pros and cons. Finally, the day before Sebastian needed to let people know what he had decided, they went to dinner.
The restaurant was Sebastian's pick, but he chose Blaine's favorite family-owned Italian place. Sebastian did his best not to insult people, held the doors for everyone who was coming or going, not just Blaine, and barely touched his wine. After dessert had been cleared away, Sebastian reached across the table and held Blaine's hands.
"I've decided to go," he said.
Blaine nodded. "I know. When do you leave?"
The night before Sebastian left, Blaine lay wide awake in bed, watching his boyfriend sleep. He followed the planes and curves on Sebastian's face with his eyes, counted each freckle, and memorized the exact fan of his eyelashes.
Sebastian was leaving.
It was a good move. Blaine kept reminding himself of that fact, that this was Sebastian's dream. It was only for six months. Surely he could live without Sebastian for six months; he had lived without Sebastian for 22 years.
The doubts crept in, though. What if Sebastian met someone else? Would the time away change them? Would the things Sebastian saw turn him unrecognizable? What if Blaine's career, which he thought had plateaued, suddenly took off, and he had to start making decisions they should make together alone?
"I'll call as often as I can," Sebastian said.
Blaine started.
Sebastian was blinking sleep out of his eyes while also trying to look at Blaine. He looked cross eyed and silly, but Blaine did not laugh. Instead, his lower lip started to tremble with emotion, and he thought to himself, 'stop it, stop it, stop it, Blaine Anderson, don't you dare cry.'
"Fuck, B, don't look like that." Sebastian rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. With his free hand, he reached out and brushed his knuckles down the side of Blaine's face.
"I'm fine," Blaine said. "I'm sorry for waking you. I was just thinking."
"I know," Sebastian said. "You were thinking so hard you woke me up. Stop worrying." Sebastian pulled Blaine against him and dropped flat onto the bed, so that Blaine found himself on top of the other man. Sebastian's hands ran up and down his spine, trying to sooth. Blaine pressed his face into Sebastian's chest.
"I can't help it," he said. "I worry. It's what I do." He tangled their legs together and kissed Sebastian's collarbone. "I'll be okay."
Sebastian made a pleased sound, and smiled. "I know you'll be fine. You're Blaine Anderson. The world hasn't come up with anything that could keep you down. And I'd like to see the man who could best my razor wit and devilish good looks. In six months, we'll be laughing about this. You just need to keep that in mind."
Blaine nodded. "Right, because all we need to survive this is a sharp wit and some talent."
"You forgot the devilish good looks." Sebastian yawned. "Go to sleep, Blaine. We have nothing to worry about.
And then Sebastian was gone.
The first week was fine. Blaine had his music, and his students, and a backlog of books he had kept meaning to read and never gotten around to. He thoroughly cleaned the apartment, top to bottom, using bleach on any surface that could probably handle it. It did mean that he ended up at Sam's house for the night, slightly woozy from fumes, and begging for a bed while the chemicals dissipated enough for the place to be livable. On his first lonely Friday, he went out with Sam, Brian, Mathilde, and Cooper, who was in town for some charity work. They spent most of the time moving from club to club, dancing and making fun of the bands.
"This is painful," Mathilde said, after a particularly bad set. "Can we go home, yet?"
Brian looked up from his beer, horror spilling comically across his face. "No! The band is fine! And I want another beer."
"It's the timing," Blaine said, watching Sam and Cooper on the dance floor. "The drummer is really, really off. I could keep the beat better than that." He felt Mathilde wince beside him, and scrunched up his nose. "I could!"
"Maybe," Mathilde said dubiously. "But you aren't allowed to play drums because you once made Alex quit."
"I did not," Blaine lied, and that was Friday.
The next week was worse. The first three days of the week he spent staring at his walls, so he accepted another three students. He ended up having to drop one girl after one lesson because the kid did not want to be there, and actually ripped the ivory off his antique grand piano in protest of being taught. The sole gig he had that week cancelled, and his agent was dodging his calls. Saturday he spent curled up in bed, watching videos of last Christmas and ignoring Sam's texts.
After a full month, Blaine was ready to throw in the towel. It felt like the entire world had waited for this one time when he was vulnerable, and decided to attack. He was forced to cancel a full day of lessons because the plumbing in the bathroom failed, and the super did not respond to his increasingly frantic messages until the next day. By then, YouTube had taught Blaine how to fix the problem, but he had to pay $300 he did not have because he had not been able to go to his studio and teach.
Someone stole his credit card, one of the ones that he had as a joint account with Sebastian, and the card company would not talk to him without the other man present. It took three days pointless runaround before Blaine asked Brian to pretend to be Sebastian, and managed to close the account. Brian then asked him why he had not asked Sam.
"I mean, I don't have a problem helping you out, you know that, but you and Sam are tight, man. Are you guys fighting?" Brian asked, lingering on his way out of Blaine's apartment.
"We're at an impasse," Blaine said. "He tried to convince my Tuesday cellist that Marvel is better than DC."
That was true enough, but that would not have been enough for Blaine to stop talking to Sam.
"Right," Brian said. "Well, I'll see you at practice tomorrow."
The next week, Sam confronted Blaine. Blaine had been getting coffee on his way to the studio, and was glaring into his cup because the barista had given him the wrong roast.
"I'm sorry!" Sam said. "It just happened!"
"I don't care what happened," Blaine said, sipping his coffee and burning his tongue enough that he would not be able to taste the mistake. "I will never be able to forget this. This will always haunt me. I need to go."
He went home that day and put his head in his hands.
"Dammit, Sebastian," he said, safe in the quiet of his own apartment. "I think you might have been wrong about Blaine Anderson."
The first postcard arrived the next day.
At first, Blaine was confused. The picture was a drawing of a beach, with a brilliant yellow sun high in the sky wearing sunglasses. 'You are the Sunshine of My Life' was written across the water. Blaine flipped the card over, mystified as to who could have sent it, and saw it was from Sebastian.
Remember when we went to Glitzfest, and you managed to stop a riot with nothing but your voice and piano? You've always been the most amazing thing I've ever seen. 3 Sebastian
P.S. see you in 5 months
Blaine sat down on the couch in the tiny living room, and looked at the card for a long time.
"I can't believe you made out with my brother," Blaine told Sam, a few days after the first postcard.
Sam looked like he was no longer quite so happy Blaine had forgiven his indiscretion, now that Blaine was actually talking to him and questioning his sanity.
"I was drunk!" Sam said. "It was a mistake!"
"My brother!" Blaine reiterated. "That is a complete violation of every friendship code ever!"
"I know," Sam said. "I promise, I will never make out with your bother again."
Things started to get better. One of his new students turned out to be a natural with the piano and loved to learn, a combination less likely than he had imagined before he started teaching. His super actually reimbursed him for the plumbing failure. His agent called and he started playing again. The next Friday, he got another postcard. This was had an olive on the front, hovering over the words 'Olive You.' Blaine smiled.
Sebastian had written,
The first time I took you out, I ordered a dry martini. It was always my dad's drink, and I felt like a real man with the drink in my hand and you at my side.
I hated that drink, and you were kind enough not to mention either the faces I made or the fact that I never finished it. You are the sweetest person I know, and I love that in you.
3 Sebastian
The postcards continued, one a week, for the next six months, until the just before Sebastian arrived home. The day Sebastian's flight was due in, Blaine received a save-the-date note.
Save the Date!
Blaine & Sebastian
New York, New York
12/25/13
Brow furrowed (was this some kind of joke? It was the 20th already. What on earth was this about?) Blaine flipped the card over.
Circle YES or NO
Oh.
Blaine, who had been standing at his kitchen table, sat down abruptly.
The trip to the airport was harrowing. Blaine had a car, because dragging a keyboard and sound equipment on the subway was nothing he ever wanted to do again, and he was usually a good driver. Ohio winters were a good teacher. This time, the trip to JFK was a white-knuckled, panicked drive, and not just because snow was swirling in the streets and lowing visibility. It looked like it would be a white Christmas.
Circle Yes or No.
Blaine parked his car and headed for the terminal, unable to focus on anything but that save-the-date card. He walked through the airport, lost in his own head, and only started to pay attention to his surroundings when he found himself at the arrivals. Blaine bounced up and down in place. He smoothed back his hair and straightened his coat. Unconsciously, his hand went into his pocket and fiddled with the card. Once he realized what he was doing, Blaine forced himself still, put his hands at his sides, and counted down from 100.
Blaine was so focused on not spazzing out that he did not see Sebastian until the other man was right in front of him. One moment he was breathing deeply, and the next, Blaine's vision was blocked by black wool and tanned skin. He looked up to see green eyes and hair bleached true blond by the sun.
"Sebastian," Blaine breathed. All thoughts of save-the-date cards and decorum flew out the window as he threw himself into his boyfriend's arms and was held for the first time in half a year.
"Blaine," Sebastian said, his voice breaking with emotion, and he clutched so tightly to Blaine the man could barely breath.
"You're here," Blaine said. "You're back. " The words were for his own benefits; Sebastian obviously knew where he was. Blaine thought it might take some time before his own heart was convinced.
"It's a Christmas miracle," Sebastian rasped. Perhaps he also needed to be convinced he was home.
"You were always going to be home by Christmas," Blaine said. "I made your flight arrangements."
Sebastian pulled back. "Still a Christmas miracle," he said. "The plane could have been late, or a storm could have come in and trapped me across the ocean. I'm home, Blaine." Before Blaine could respond, or kiss him, or hug him again and never let go, Sebastian dropped to one knee.
Blaine said, "Oh my God."
"Well?" Sebastian asked, holding out a ring.
"Oh my God," Blaine repeated. "You were serious. You were — the card said you want to get married in five days!"
"I do," Sebastian said.
"Oh," said Blaine. He fished the card out of his pocket and thrust it into Sebastian's hands, almost knocking the ring to the ground.
Yes was circled in bright red ink.
"Oh thank God," said Sebastian, and surged to his feet and into Blaine's arms.
'You're home,' Blaine thought, in between kisses and a ring being dragged down his finger. 'You're home, you're home, you're home.'
Based on the prompt: Seblaine in a long distance relationship. Sebastian comes home for Christmas. Blaine goes pick him up from the airport.
