Warning: In this chapter Blaine has a date with someone who isn't Kurt, but don't worry, it's before they meet.
"I love your place."
Blaine smiled. "Thanks," he said, walking over to his couch and handing Elliot a glass of wine, "people tease me sometimes because it's not a very modern aesthetic, but-"
"Well, I love it. It's vintage. Classic. It makes me think of Old Hollywood. Kind of like you."
"Flattery will get you everywhere," Blaine said with a grin, sitting down next to his date. They clinked their glasses together, taking sips.
"I'm glad you didn't think it was too presumptuous of me to invite you back to my place," Blaine told Elliot as they set their glasses down, "I'd love the chance to get to know you more."
Elliot smiled wickedly. "Likewise." He leaned in and kissed Blaine. It was good, Blaine certainly didn't think Elliot was a bad kisser, but it did seem sort of removed, calculating even. Like each movement of his lips, the way his hand slid up Blaine's thigh, was aiming for something. Blaine kissed him back, trying to ignore that silly nagging, because he really did like Elliot and find him attractive.
Elliot broke their kiss, leaning his forehead against Blaine's and breathing heavily. "So," he said, his hand moving ever higher on Blaine's leg, until it landed on his belt buckle, "I hear you're currently auditioning for Model America. Girls and guys," he said as he slid onto the floor on his knees in front of Blaine.
Blaine sighed and let his head fall back on his couch. There it was. "I think you should go," he said.
Elliot paused in his undoing of Blaine's belt. "What?"
Blaine looked down at him, frustrated but sympathetic. "This isn't a casting couch, Elliot."
Elliot looked embarrassed. "I - oh, God, I just thought if -"
"I know," Blaine said, standing up and giving Elliot a hand up, feeling disappointed and slightly creepy, despite not doing anything creepy, "but I'm not that guy."
"I fucked up, I really fucked up," Elliot said, looking panicked.
Blaine frowned. He knew what an unforgiving industry he was in. And he knew plenty of models got their start through the casting couch. He couldn't blame Elliot for trying, or for thinking he needed to try it. It was a hard career to get started, never mind maintain, especially for male models.
"Don't worry about it," he told Elliot.
But Elliot looked worried anyway. "I'm sorry, I just, I thought. I'm sorry. Can we forget it ever happened? Please? I made a mistake, I don't do this normally, I promise."
Blaine knew what he was getting at. As a struggling model, the last thing he needed was someone like Blaine Anderson blackballing him in the industry.
"Elliot," he said, placing his hands on his arms, "calm down. I'm not offended. I'm a little disturbed that I gave you that impression...that I would be interested in an arrangement like that, but I try not to be an asshole most days. I don't want to take advantage of models trying to make it, and I don't want to make things more difficult for you. So," he sighed regretfully, because he'd really liked Elliot, "we'll just call it a night, and say our goodbyes, okay?"
Elliot gave him a relieved smile. "You know, I really am sorry. I should've...I should've just gone out with you to go out with you."
Blaine smirked. "I would've liked that."
So he went to bed alone that night. It was for the best, anyway. He'd need to be well rested to deal with the first day of filming for Model America the following morning.
He knocked back his coffee the next day, sitting with the other Model America judges - Tamora, Gretchen, and Ricky Tee - feeling sorry for himself. He didn't want models throwing themselves at him in the hopes that he'd be okay with taking advantage of their desperation in return for a leg up in the industry, he didn't want casual one-night flings or brief affairs. He was looking for something a bit more serious, and he never imagined when he took up photography that he'd end up in world where nothing seemed to last long, and people rarely took each other seriously.
"...remember the key players we're always looking for, but now we need to add guys to the mix. So to up the drama in the house, we're looking for a few different guys - gay, straight, trans*, a bi guy would be amazing for a potential love triangle," Tamora was saying as they flipped through the info sheets on the contestants, "a sweet, innocent guy, a big player, an asshole, just some general types to keep in mind."
Blaine watched the usual parade of tall, thin, attractive people file in and out, trying to give them each the attention they deserved, flirting a little here and there, tossing out compliments freely. Gretchen and Ricky Tee were hard asses, Tamora could go either way depending on her mood, so Blaine had no trouble being himself and being a little nicer most of the time. He didn't see the point in tearing these people down, especially since many of them were already bundles of insecurity and emotional complexes.
He needed another coffee and he was still grumpy over how things had turned out with Elliot, when he walked into the room, and Blaine sat up a little in his seat, his mouth falling open a little at the sight of him.
The most beautiful man Blaine had ever seen.