BPOV

"Find a sexy European boy, a French will do and make him give you the best fuck of your life. Got it?"

"I'm not going to Europe for sex, Santana." I rolled my eyes at her advice as we walked to the check-in stand.

"Yeah yeah, we know why you're going. But the best way to get over someone is to get under someone. Or if you like to top…" I had to give it to Santana for being consistent if nothing else. She and Brittany were the only two people other than my family who had understood my need for doing this. But that didn't mean that they necessarily agreed with my plan and Santana had been the most vocal about it.

"There won't be any getting over or under someone on this trip. And this trip isn't about him, I'm over him already." The looks I was receiving conveyed how unimpressed she was with my statement. "I am," I defended.

"Then why aren't you planning to apply to any of the schools here?" she countered not missing a beat.

"We are not having that discussion right now. I mean I don't even know what I want to do next so that's a moot point." I shrugged trying to close the topic, which was a bit of a sensitive subject and this wasn't the time for such discussion. But Santana wasn't done, "what else are you going to do other than music? That's your thing Blaine Warbler."

My face or body must've sent some signal that she had touched a raw nerve that even Santana asked with a hint of remorse, "Too soon?"

I nodded. "This is why I need this trip. I'm gonna go see the world and I'm hoping by the time I've to come back, I'll know what I want to do with my life."

"We're here." There was no point in expecting Santana to agree with me so I had to take whatever she deigned as approval.

"I guess this is it," I said as we hugged each other extra tight. Santana said in my ear, "go do your thing then, my favorite gay."

"Thanks, Tana," I said before walking to the final gate where I had to leave her behind.

But as I turned to look at her one last time, I heard her shout, "remember that you promised Britt that you'll call her from every major city."

"I'll call you too. And send postcards."

"And have the best sex of your life." Of course, she had to go there again but then again, she wouldn't be Santana if she didn't embarrass me and have the last word. I shouted back making her laugh not caring how everybody around me looked at me, "No promises."

SPOV

I started scanning through the waiting area to see who else was getting on our Trans-Atlantic flight. A few of the standard businessmen, a group of older ladies on a tour and a young couple, probably newlyweds who couldn't keep their hands off of each other. God, enough with the PDA! It's bordering on public indecency now and that's me talking, the one with an exhibitionist streak mile wide.

Moving back to scanning, the waiting area was pretty much full of the usual, nobody worth catching my eye until. Him. A few seats down from the grope fest sat a beautiful boy, who looked probably around my age. His dark curly hair looked magnificent, his eyes closed as he bobbed his head gently to his music. I watched him curiously as he strummed his fingers along his knee to the beat of his music. He was definitely cute. And if my instincts were right which they always are, he was definitely gay.

I grabbed my bag and moved seats so that I was sitting in the same row of chairs as his. I thought about how to approach him. I could just say hello or ask him about his music, but that seemed really lame. I never had a problem talking to boys before, but there seemed to be something different about him. So I turned sideways on my chair and faced him, waiting to see if he would notice me, but he didn't. His eyes stayed shut as he started to mouth the words to the song he was listening to. I had no idea what it was. Almost twenty minutes later, they started to board our plane, but the boy never moved. I tapped him lightly on the shoulder and his eyes opened and got very wide when he saw me standing in front of him.

"They're boarding now," I felt my mouth say as I stared into his beautiful hazel eyes. There's that word again, beautiful. Somehow I've used it more times in last half an hour that I have in my eighteen years.

"Oh, thanks," he said with a smile as he blushed a beautiful shade of pink. Definitely gay, a hundred percent.

He then began to gather up his things and lined up to get on our flight. My mind was working a mile a minute and I was trying to figure out how I could talk to him some more. His voice sounded like a dream, and we had a long flight to Heathrow. Certainly talking to him for a while would make everything more bearable.

When I took my seat in first class, I glanced back and noticed that he was sitting beside a large sweaty looking older man in a bright yellow golf shirt looking as uncomfortable as ever. I grabbed the arm of the first stewardess I saw and asked if they would be willing to see if the man would change seats with me. The man nodded at me happily before blissfully gathering up his belongings and wandered up to my seat. "Thanks," I said to the gentleman as he waited for me to finish moving. I was finally glad that uncle had forced me to buy the first-class seat, instead of Coach like I had insisted. I headed down the aisle of the plane and shoved my bag under the chair and sat down beside the lovely looking creature, whose facial expression was that of curiosity.

"I'm Sebastian. Sebastian Smythe," I said as I extended my hand to him politely.

"Blaine," he replied curtly as he reached for his iPod.

"You have to wait for the flight to take off before you can listen to your iPod," I said confidently as I realized I sounded like a parent. "Or that's what I've heard," I said, trying to correct myself and not seem like too much of a douche. "Where are you headed?"

"I'm going to India. Where do you think I'm going?" he replied as his words dripped with sarcasm. He was a bit of a spitfire, which made me a lot happier for changing my seats from first class to coach.

"Ah! I hear it's nice there. Everybody's loud and cows line the streets. Very clean," I shot back with a laugh hoping that I could hold his attention for more than a few playful minutes. Instead, he rolled his eyes with a smile threatening to take over his face.

"Why did you leave your seat to come sit beside me?" he asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Why not? I was sitting alone and you were sitting with the ball of sunshine looking uncomfortable, so I switched. Are you mad at me?" I couldn't tell by his current expression if he was upset or not. He certainly was an interesting boy; I'd give him that. I've never had a problem connecting with people, but Blaine was an entirely different story. I had no idea what was going on in that pretty little head of his.

"It's fine. I'm just gonna let you know that if you start stalking me when we get off the plane, I will be calling the… the Scotland Yard." A laugh spouted off from my mouth at his funny threat.

"Scotland Yard? Really Blaine? You could've just said the Police. And I think Scotland Yard probably has more important things to do than hunt down an eighteen-year-old from New York for talking to a boy on a plane. How about we call the Interpol too? Or the United Nations maybe? This sounds like an international crime right?" I laughed thickly as I watched his scowl melting into a smile. Finally, he found appreciated my humor.

"Ok, well, not Scotland Yard then, but I would definitely call the police if you showed up where I'm staying or anywhere else I was going like a stalker," he replied honestly.

"Do I look like a stalker?" I asked trying to bait him again. But my question made him flustered and tripping all over, "Uh… well no, not really." His awkward fumbling made me chuckle which relaxed him and brought back the Spitfire. "But then how would I know how does a typical stalker look like?"

"Touché."

I didn't want that conversation to die down when I was finally having fun so I asked, "So what brings you to London anyway? And I assure you, I don't have any stalker-y intentions though I do realize my actions till now seems to say otherwise."

"It's just a quick stop for me actually. I'm there for a day before I travel over to Brussels and start to use my Euro rail pass. I'm traveling through Europe for next few months." And just like that, this day became my lucky day. This attractive boy was doing the exact same thing as me. I would have to find an excuse to meet up with him again while in London.

Looks like he may need to call Scotland Yard after all.