Blaine never liked being in large crowds.
He was fine performing in front of one but hated being amidst one.
Now after 'the incident' his aversion intensified to the point that even being close to several people unnerved him. Human contact was now viewed as a potential threat that he went out of his way to protect himself from. For this reason Blaine's blood run cold at David's announcement that they'd be performing at the Westerville mall for a charity event. Malls were packed full of people moving about and rushing off, it was impossible to avoid bumping into someone. He'd be completely surrounded with no room to breathe.
He was going to beg off but Wes insisted that Blaine needed to participate at a Warbler performance to prepare him for the upcoming sectionals. Blaine was finding that the only person who did not take no for an answer, other than Sebastian, was Wes. The senior council member took great pains to convince Blaine that no Warbler could abandon the team for any reason besides a terminal illness. Blaine relented only after Wes assured him that he was not obligated to perform a solo.
Despite dreading the upcoming Saturday for the entire week Blaine managed to actually have fun. Majority of the solos were handled by Nick and Sebastian. With their contrasting styles they managed to keep their small crowd entertained. Nick had a boyish charm that delighted the pre-teens and seniors while Sebastian's bad boy persona thrilled the teenage girls and morally loose middle age women.
Blaine had to admit he missed performing with a group, and took comfort in their matching blazers allowing him to blend in.
He was not quite ready to take back the spotlight yet.
Their forty-five minute performance flew by, in no time Wes was addressing them back stage.
"Well done everyone," Wes congratulated them with his half smile, "Nick just remember to focus on keeping time to the beat. And Sebastian…"
Wes turned his head to where Sebastian hung at the back of the group looking unconcerned about being on the receiving end of Wes's glare.
"Keep it clean next time," Wes folded his arms over his chest and spoke in a stern voice, "We are not hustlers, there's no need to strut about like we're for sale."
"That's a damn shame," Sebastian drawled giving Wes a dirty grin, "Because I'd love to see you shake that ass."
The group awkwardly coughed into their fists to avoid laughing out loud. No one wanted to further anger Wes or have him direct that near homicidal glint in his eyes at them. Blaine watched David grip Wes's shoulder in a silent reminder that killing Sebastian in front of this many witnesses would be a bad idea.
"Everyone meet back here in one hour," Wes said through clenched teeth, "If you're not on time the bus will leave without you."
Wes spoke directly to Sebastian with an expression that conveyed how much he'd love to throw Sebastian under said bus.
"Have fun," David cut in with a strained smile, "Don't get into too much trouble."
The group quickly dispersed either excited to roam the mall or wanting to leave before the blood bath started. Blaine quietly wandered to where Nick and Jeff were talking to a smug Sebastian.
"One of these days Wes is going to kill you," Nick warned.
"I look forward to the attempt," Sebastian shrugged off the advice, "To see Wes express an emotion other than superiority."
"That's rich coming from you," Jeff snorted in amusement, "To be honest you were dancing a little 'enthusiastically'."
Sebastian tipped his head covertly to the side, "Not without a reason."
Blaine twisted his head in the direction Sebastian motioned towards and immediately saw what caught his attention. A boy roughly around their age with shaggy brown hair was shyly watching Sebastian with hooded dark eyes. He did not seem bothered that three boys are curiously staring at him, all his attention was focused on Sebastian.
A flash of annoyance washed over Blaine.
"Excuse me gentlemen," Sebastian brushed past them; "I just found how I'm going to kill time for the next hour."
Blaine wanted to be able to turn away and ignore Sebastian chatting up the eager looking boy. But he can't stop watching them. Hazel eyes follow Sebastian's hand that travels up the boy's arm to rest on his bicep. Envy curls in his stomach as the two of them walk away with no space between their bodies.
It because you want to be that comfortable with touching, the cool and logical voice in his head states, not because you want Sebastian to touch you.
Of course, Blaine silently agrees, it does not matter to him who Sebastian decides to be physical with.
"Blaine?" Jeff pops into his field of vision both hands coming to rest on Blaine's shoulders.
Blaine stumbles back not able to brace himself for their sudden closeness.
Jeff exchanges an anxious look with Nick at his reaction and Blaine can't help but feel guilty. Jeff is one of the friendliest of the Warblers, who is the only one besides Sebastian who is not afraid to be close to him. Blaine appreciates it since he had become accustomed to people treating him as though he was a deadly disease.
Now the blonde warbler has a kicked puppy expression which is entirely Blaine's fault.
"You want to wander with us?" Jeff asked nervously but becomes relived when Blaine nods in agreement.
For the next half an hour Blaine walked behind Nick and Jeff keeping his eyes on the people all around him.
It does not take long for claustrophobia to settle heavily on him.
All his senses become overwhelmed by the people that move about him on all sides. The white noise of conversations resounds loudly in his ears and he is unable to discern the words being said. The mall lights intensify unbearably causing Blaine to break out into a sweat over his entire body. His blazer is too heavy on his shoulders, his sweater vest underneath too confining making it hard to breath.
He can't focus on what is going on around him. It's all too much and all too distracting to keep straight.
A group of teenage girls walk by, carelessly knocking into Blaine's side not bothering to stop and apologize. Blaine jerks back unsteadily at the thoughtless touch nearly slamming into the person behind him.
"Watch yourself," The middle aged businessman growls at him in annoyance. Blaine tries to say sorry but the words can't pass through his thick and dry throat.
Blaine gathers himself shakily, attempting to block out the fear that everyone is watching him in disapproval of his behavior.
"Blaine? You okay?" Nick calls out several feet away from where they realized Blaine was no longer behind them.
Other than the panic attack Blaine feels just great.
"I'm going in here," Blaine gestures to a nearby store, darting away to avoid further questions.
The store in question turns out to be The Gap which has far less people than the main hallway. A sigh of relief courses through his body and Blaine can feel his heart start to slow down. He raises his arm carefully to wipe the sweat off his forehead with his blazer sleeve.
It takes a few minutes for him to gather his bearings. He stands to the side to avoid getting in the way of the shoppers who mill about the store. When his breathing evened out Blaine decided to wander through the racks of clothing until it was time to leave for Dalton.
His eyes briefly pass over each item not registering any of them, his brain still unable to properly function. This is why he's startled by the question from the Sales Clerk.
"Can I help you find that in your size?"
Blaine jolts out of his headspace glancing down at the pair of skinny jeans he's holding in surprise. He hadn't even realized that he ended up in this section.
"Sir?"
Blaine lifted his head to give an apologetic smile and politely decline any help then freezes when he sees who is talking to him.
The Sales Clerk is devastatingly handsome, the kind of handsome that belongs on the inside of a fashion magazine. Blaine takes in his high cheekbones and perfect squared off jaw. His golden blonde hair is thick and curly, artfully tousled to appear no effort was put into it. Intense ice blue eyes subtly flick down then up Blaine's body with a glint of intrigue.
This boy is totally the type Blaine would obsess over. If he was his normal-self Blaine would pine over him from afar until he gathered the courage to ask him out.
However right now Blaine wants to get as far away from him as possible.
"I'm fine," Blaine chokes out clutching the jeans in his hands, "Thank you but I don't need help."
Instead of moving off the Sales Clerk steps even closer and Blaine can feel his skin prickle in discomfort.
"I saw you perform earlier on my break," The Sales Clerk gives him an appreciative smile; "You were really good."
"Oh…thank you," Blaine mumbles out, mentally cursing that behind him is a wall of jeans leaving him no space to move.
"My name is Jeremiah," He reaches out to rest his hand on Blaine's arm, "What's yours?"
He wants to shakes Jeremiah's hand off but can't get his body to co-operate. The situation reminds him of another night Blaine was trapped and at the mercy of those who meant him harm.
"Blaine? What are you doing?"
The two boys whip their heads to the left where Sebastian stands with one eyebrow raised in curiosity.
His arrival would have given Blaine the perfect opportunity to pull away but Jeremiah beats him to it.
"I need to go," Jeremiah's eyes go wide in fear at Sebastian, "Inventory…I need to do inventory…"
Jeremiah nearly sprints away from them and out of sight into the backroom.
"I wouldn't bother with that one," Sebastian strolls up to Blaine like people often run at the sight of him, "Unless you're interested in covert, guilt ridden sex."
"You and him?" Blaine questions in a dazed tone at Jeremiah's abrupt departure.
"Two months ago," Sebastian leafs through several pairs of jeans, "Not exactly comfortable with the more physical side of being gay that one."
"Not everyone is as comfortable with that as you," Blaine snaps and instantly regrets doing so. However, Sebastian isn't offended but almost amused by Blaine's statement.
"Jeff and Nick have been frantically waiting for you;" Sebastian states in a calm tone turning to leave, "The bus is here."
"How did you find me?" Blaine wonders as he follows Sebastian out of the store.
"It was an educated guess based on your taste is clothes," Sebastian tosses Blaine a knowing smirk.
Blaine watches how Sebastian walks through the crowd of people, not even bothering to glance to see if he'll bump into someone.
"I figured you'd be busy with that boy," Blaine mumbles quietly but unfortunately despite the noise level Sebastian heard him.
"He got freaked when a security guard started following us," Without preamble Sebastian reaches over to tug Blaine over by his sleeve to avoid bumping into a middle aged couple, "I have a reputation at this mall."
A reputation Blaine is happy not knowing the details of and is glad when Sebastian does not attempt to talk further about. The two of them walk the rest of the way to the parking lot with surprising ease. Sebastian keeps close but provides enough distance occasionally preventing Blaine from knocking into anyone. Not once does Blaine feel overwhelmed or imprisoned by the bodies all around them.
The minute they rejoin the group Sebastian wanders off alone leaving Blaine in the care of an elated Jeff and Nick. The rest of the ride home Blaine thinks about the contrast between his two experiences navigating through the mall and what Sebastian had to do with it.
"How's school going?"
Blaine raises his head from where he was concentrating on scrubbing a pot caked with tomato sauce to where his mother watched him expectantly.
He decided to come home this weekend since he finally caught up with his schoolwork at Dalton. The last time he was home was three weeks ago but it felt as though years had passed. The house that he lived in since he was born had become a familiar memory, like revisiting with a childhood friend you hadn't seen in years. He recognized his surroundings but it no longer held a prominent place in his mind. The first day back Blaine had to re-adjust to the atmosphere of the house now that he was use to Dalton. Sadly the transition was made easier with his father being away on a business trip.
"School is fine," He replied with a half-smile, rinsing the soap suds off the pot.
"Are the boys-"His mother pauses as though she stepped on thin ice and was treading carefully, "Are they nice?"
The question seemed innocent but Blaine knows it's a cover for what she truly wants to ask.
Are the boys bullying you?
Do they threaten to hurt you?
Do you still feel scared to be around people?
"The ones I've met," Blaine places the pot on the drying rack without looking her in the eye, "The Warblers are friendly."
"The Warblers," His mother hums contemplatively, "That's the school glee club, correct?"
"Yes," he whispers softly, giving the plate in his hands all of his attention.
His mother says nothing, simply walks out into the living room leaving him alone in the kitchen.
He can't bear to see the disappointed or concerned expression on his mother's face. His unspoken history widens the gap of silence between them. The days he came home upset from the bullying he received for singing and for coming out. The performance the kids at school heckled at made worse knowing his mother was in the audience watching. The cuts and bruises might have healed but his mother could see them clearly as though they still stood out shameful on his skin.
The rest of the evening passed in a forced silence, with each party having words they wanted to say but lacked the courage to say them. At nine Blaine pretended he had a headache just to escape the awkwardness. His mother did nothing to stop him and is almost eager to send him off upstairs.
She walked him to the staircase, a sizable distance between them as though she was afraid they might touch. He turns his head to say goodnight but is startled by the tension in her body. The living room lamp provides partial light for him to see her features and it hits him that she is older looking than what he remembers. There are worry lines at the corner of her mouth and forehead marring her flawless features. Blaine knows with a sense of guilt that he put those lines there. She seems smaller as well, her already tiny frame slumping at the shoulders.
It pains him to see her like this. His mother was the kind of person that when she walked into a room it would become instantly brighter. People constantly remarked how beautiful she was with her long, curly black hair and dark brown eyes. Now she stands before him a pale imitation of her former self, burdened by the mistakes of her son.
"Please be careful," she speaks in a low voice as if his father was sitting in the next room, "You know how your father feels about you singing in public."
Blaine internally winced at the memories that occurred four months ago. After he was released from the hospital after 'the incident', not a night passed that his parents did not fight. His father particularly took every opportunity to argue, an intense anger seething below his typical collected exterior. The core of his father's anger was centered on his mother supporting Blaine in his singing and performing. The mantra that he repeated over and over was; if Blaine had played sports or taken shop class instead of theater then none of this would have happened.
Blaine had lain in his bed listening to these fights every night. Shame nearly crushed him like a physical burden for his mother having to take the blame for his failures.
"I promise mom," he whispered softly giving her a half smile.
The words rest uneasily with his mother, her eyes widening and becoming filled with worry. She raises her arm hesitantly forward, her hand slightly trembling as it reaches for him. An involuntary flinch surges through Blaine's body as her fingers brush against his shoulder.
"Sorry," she whispers out, pulling her hand back immediately, "Have a good sleep."
Blaine watches her move down the hallway and out of sight. A part of him longs to rush forward to throw himself into her arms like he did when he was a child. Whenever Blaine had fallen off his bike or been called a mean name he had turned to his mother to comfort. Years later he now knows his weaknesses had weighed her down.
Back in his empty room that contains none of his personal effects Blaine allows himself to relax. At least in here there is no one to impress or try to make happy allowing him to out to rest his constant performance. That's how it feels being back inside these walls, an actor playing the part of the perfect son his parents wanted.
The kind of son who played sports.
The kind of son no one would bully.
The kind of son that was straight not gay.
Blaine turns off the light and lies down on his bed. He's actually not tired but can't seem to motivate himself to do anything but lie in the dark. Soon it will be morning and he'll have an awkward breakfast with his mother followed by an uncomfortable afternoon outing with his father. None of these activities appeal to him but it will make his parents happy. With a heavy Blaine closes his eyes in the hopes that sleep will at least take his mind off tomorrow.
His body slams into the pavement knocking the air out of his lungs. For a second he has a brief view of the stars above before two dark shadows block it out.
He's terrified.
Minutes before he stood by helplessly listening to the screams of his friend.
He hates how those screams cut against the night. Knowing that soon he'll be making those sounds.
Boots smash into his body repeatedly. They land on his arms, his legs, his stomach, his face, his ribs. He cries. He begs. He goes silent.
A pair of hands pull him up only to throw his body hard against a nearby wall. Through the blood and the tears he can see their smiles that glint like knives, full of deadly promise. He hopes that this is the end. That they hurt him enough.
But they haven't.
This time they use their fists.
Blaine claws his way out of his nightmare, gasping desperately for air. It takes him a moment to assure himself that he's safe in his old room and not in the alley where he was beaten. His body shakes uncontrollably and he can't regain control of it. His eyes water with tears that threaten to spill out and his throat burns as he chokes back his cries.
Then his cell phone starts to vibrate.
Blaine frowns at the sound that he's not heard in months. No one in his life actually tries to text or call Blaine. He fumbles in the dark till he grabs his phone then flips it open to read the message and finds that several have been sent to him.
To: Blaine
From: Sebastian
Another disappointing night at Scandals. You know it's bad if I'm considering fucking a guy I've already had.
Oct 14. 10:15PM
To: Blaine
From: Sebastian
Someone interesting actual walked in. Perhaps my luck has changed.
Oct.14 10:32PM
To: Blaine
From: Sebastian
Never mind. Worst blowjob ever. My cock is still dripping in his spit.
Oct. 14 10:56PM
Blaine blinks several times in shock after reading the texts. First, wondering how Sebastian could even think he would care about hearing about his night trying to pick up men. Second, that he feels a sense of relief after reading them, his nightmare no longer consuming his thoughts.
To: Blaine
From: Sebastian
Give me a call if you're awake. I'm bored out of my mind.
Oct. 14 11:03PM
Blaine debates whether doing so would be a smart idea. The less he is involved in Sebastian's unsavory activities the better but he can't deny the pull that draws him to talk to Sebastian. At the very least he figures it will keep him awake and prevent from falling asleep again. Back to where the nightmares wait for him in the corners of his mind.
After ringing twice Sebastian promptly picks up.
"I knew you were awake," Sebastian's sounds looser than usual, less smug authority and more laid back.
Blaine can hear the sounds of the bar in the background; an old forgotten eighties pop hit, the clacking of pool balls, the buzz of conversation.
"Well you were text harassing me," Blaine replies in annoyance that he doesn't feel.
"You love it," Sebastian slightly slurs.
"Are you drunk?" Blaine asks settling himself against his headboard.
"I don't get drunk," Sebastian sounds very serious but Blaine finds himself grinning, "Only sloppy people get drunk."
"Of course," Blaine patronizes which causes Sebastian to make a displeased grunt, "Why the sudden need to call me?"
"I'm bored," The clatter of the bar get fainter and replaced by the sounds of cars driving by, "The talent at this place has really become second rate. I deserve better."
"And I'm more entertaining?" The question could have been considered flirting but Blaine was actually taken aback at the idea.
"You always entertain me Anderson," Sebastian nearly purrs and an electric spark travels down Blaine's spine, "I'd been even more entertained if you let me have my way with you."
Blaine's mouth hangs open in aghast at Sebastian's bold words. The boy really did not even know the meaning of having boundaries.
"Of course that would involve touching you," Sebastian continues idly, "And we all know how you feel about that."
"I'm just not comfortable with it," Blaine replies, not liking the direction the conversation is going.
Sebastian hums non-committedly, "Why do you keep fighting this? What's holding you back?"
"That's personal," Blaine becomes defensive at Sebastian prodding into a past he's trying to forget, "And I'm fine."
"No one who is uptight as you is 'fine'," There is a muffled slam of a car door that cuts off the background noise, "You need to learn how to unwind."
"You need to learn how to leave people alone," Blaine bites out.
The empty static of nothing that each boy hears put them more on edge.
Blaine who is conflicted with feeling both anger and regret for what he said. Somehow Sebastian always makes him feel on edge and brings out the worst in his personality. With every conversation he has with Sebastian the carefully put together control that keeps his life intact starts to unravel.
Sebastian has never come across walls of resistance as thick as Blaine's. He's use to getting what he wants from people. But every time he tries to peel back a layer of Blaine's personality it's met with uncompromising opposition that borderlines on aggressive.
Blaine breaks the stalemate with a low sigh.
"I'm sorry Sebastian," Blaine's voice switches from irritation to forced calmness, "I'm just tired."
Sebastian is not interested in Blaine's apologies, he'd much rather know what's truly bothering him and why he can't express it.
"Right," Sebastian replies curtly, "Well I did wake you up."
"No…I woke up on my own," Blaine trails off, his mind somewhere else then talking to Sebastian.
"Blaine?"
"Goodnight Sebastian. I'll see you at school on Monday."
The line goes dead and Sebastian snaps his phone shut. For a minute he stares contemplatively out into the dark street going over their stilted conversation.
Turns out being the friend of Blaine Anderson was not an easy task to accomplish.
The experience was new to him for him; he had grown accustomed to seducing other gay boys not acting platonic around them.
It was not as though it was hard to get along with Blaine. After only one month of getting to know Blaine Sebastian grew to enjoy his soft spoken intelligence and warm sense of humor. On the plus side Blaine tended to get adorably awkward anytime the subject of Sebastian's sex life came up. Even in his lack of knowledge in friendship he knew friends don't usual talk about their love lives to get a rise out of the other. But he couldn't help it, ruffling Blaine's feathers had become his new favorite past time but he suppressed his desire to make a more aggressive move on him.
Wes and David never missed an opportunity to remind him of that. From the corner of his eyes Sebastian noticed their well-timed glares when he flirted too much with Blaine or when David gripped his shoulder tightly when he danced too close to Blaine during rehearsal. Given the chance Wes and David would have adopted Blaine as their son by the way they doted on him. Despite their love for Blaine that was shared by the rest of the Warblers, Blaine rarely spent time with them. Whenever possible Blaine left for dinner early or declined to play video games in the lounge because he was tired.
It was even harder for Sebastian to find opportunities for them to spend time together. Often it consisted of late afternoons in the music room or when they did homework. Out of respect Sebastian kept a relative distance but those rare times he found himself alone with Blaine he indulged.
He touched Blaine often, probably more than was socially acceptable, but always with a distance in mind. Blaine was still skittish about physical affection, so he limited it to his fingers grazing Blaine's shoulder to get his attention or pressing his arm against Blaine's during Warbler practice. The whole situation was rather pitiful considering the physical touches he committed in the backrooms of numerous Gay bars or the back of a strangers' car. In comparison his physical relationship with Blaine felt like a lame Victorian romance.
But he continued with it because deep down Sebastian could tell Blaine missed being close to other people. He knew that line of reasoning sounded like a creepy stalker justifying his actions but from what he saw it was hard to dispute. When observing Blaine he'd notice him reach out or move closer to another person, and then quickly pull back like he'd been burned or he remembered being burned. It only made Sebastian want to touch him even more, to see what Blaine kept hidden.
Blaine was coiled up tightly and it was hard to resist the urge to loosen him up.
At that thought Sebastian devised a brilliant solution to the problem.
From: Sebastian
To: Blaine
Meet me in the exercise room in one hour.
Oct.16 4:15PM
From: Sebastian
To: Blaine
Wear clothes you can exercise in.
Oct.16 4:17PM
From: Blaine
To: Sebastian
Why, exactly?
Oct.16 4:20PM
From: Sebastian
To: Blaine
I promise it'll be fun.
Oct.16 4:22PM
Blaine stared at this message hard, deciphering whether he trusted those words. He had a feeling Sebastian definition of fun was different from normal, sane people. Agreeing to meet up with him could result in him getting into a ridiculous situation he would not be able to get out of. However, refusing would incur a persistent Sebastian who would not stop until he relented.
From: Blaine
To: Sebastian
Promise me it's not illegal.
Oct.16 4:30PM
From: Sebastian
To: Blaine
Boy Scout's honor.
Oct.16 4:32PM
From: Blaine
To: Sebastian
I find that hard to believe.
Oct.16 4:35PM
From: Sebastian
To: Blaine
I actually was a boy scout. Which is why in all aspects of my life I'm very prepared.
Oct.16 4:37PM
Blaine patiently waited for the big finish Sebastian was no doubt setting up.
From: Sebastian
To: Blaine
Especially in bed.
Oct.16 4:38PM
A small laugh slipped from Blaine who wanted to groan in annoyance at Sebastian's usual sleazy personality. He wondered if Sebastian was physically able to get through a conversation without including sexual innuendo.
He texted out a confirmation to meet him in an hour then gathered his books and left the library for his dorm. Luckily his homework was light this evening thanks to the Warblers helping him catch up; even Sebastian put aside his blatant pursuit of Blaine to tutor him in math. It was one of the few exceptions he allowed himself to be alone with Sebastian having homework act as a buffer. Surprisingly Sebastian focused on the task of getting Blaine through algebra.
A part of him wondered if meeting up with him alone after school hours without knowing what Sebastian had planned was a smart idea.
In the end, against his better judgment, he decided to trust Sebastian.
An hour later with partial apprehension Blaine entered the weight room in the basement of Dalton academy. Blaine had only been down here twice since he arrived to the school for gym class. Both times he'd been here Blaine had felt slightly uncomfortable. At his old school gym had been the hardest for him when it came to bullying. At the start it was because he'd never really been a natural athlete and the other boys ragged on him for it. Then after coming out every time he entered the weight room or change room he was met with hostile eyes and hurtful accusations of him being a pervert watching them. Afterwards Blaine convinced his parents to excuse him from gym.
Usually it was swarming with guys working out and lifting weights but right now it's completely empty.
Blaine searched the room for Sebastian's tall form but came up with nothing.
The surge of disappointment that came over him was unexpected.
"You're late."
Blaine whirled around on the spot to where Sebastian was leaning on the change room doorframe regarding him in amusement.
The words that Blaine wanted to respond caught themselves in his throat. It was unfair that someone who half the time aggravated Blaine to the point of wanting to pull his hair out was so effortlessly attractive.
Sebastian's workout clothing consisted of a loose pair of black running shorts and a tight black wife-beater. Without thinking about it Blaine's eyes travelled up his arms perfectly defined with muscle then to the width and strength in his broad shoulders. His hair was not styled in with the usual product instead tousled naturally that most people had to work for.
"Sorry, still don't know my way around yet," Blaine fumbled out, hoping that even though his cheeks felt warm that there was no blush across them.
Sebastian moved in closer, green eyes taking in Blaine's baggy grey sweatpants and navy blue hoodie.
"I hope you have a shirt underneath," Sebastian said lowly stopping a respectful few feet from Blaine, "You're going to be working up a sweat."
The suggestive tone he used to say the last part caused Blaine's stomach muscles to tighten.
"What are we doing exactly?" Blaine asked, unzipping the hoodie to reveal a plain white shirt.
Sebastian's response took a moment due to his blatant appreciation of seeing Blaine's chest in a tight shirt. With a tilt of his head Sebastian nodded in the direction of the punching bag by the far wall.
"Boxing?" Blaine had not expected that at all, "Why would we do that?"
"Because you need tension relief," Sebastian informed him, moving to the bag assuming Blaine would follow, "And since you keep stubbornly refusing option A…"
Sebastian's green eyes lock on to Blaine's hazel ones making him feel pinned to the floor.
"…We'll use option B," Sebastian had a far too pleased grin on his face, "At least till you come to your senses."
"Don't hold your breath," Blaine scowled but followed him anyway.
"A man can dream," Sebastian shrugged like he hadn't been turned down once again, "Do you know how to hit?"
Blaine eyed the bag cautiously then turned back to Sebastian with a small shrug.
"Give it a try," Sebastian suggested.
Blaine blew out a breath of nervousness but approached the long, black bag hanging from the ceiling. The idea of learning how to use his fists was one that never interested Blaine; he had thought the sport to be excessively violent and brutal. In football he could appreciate that the violence held a purpose, but boxing was just two people beating each other down.
Blaine curled his hand into a fist, swung his arm back into a wide arc, and punched the bag with all the strength he could muster. Sharp pain travelled up his arm the minute his hand came into contact with the back. With a startled yelp Blaine clutched his arm to his chest and realized he barely made the bag swing on its chain.
"You alright?" Sebastian asked coming to his side, not even bothering to conceal his amused smile.
"Do you enjoy watching me embarrass myself?" Blaine countered, the heat of humiliation flared in his cheeks.
"You're definitely feisty Anderson," Sebastian commented with laughter in his voice, "That'll help you with this."
Sebastian circled around until he was standing directly behind him. Blaine felt the vulnerability of the position and shifted apprehensively on his feet.
"Relax," Sebastian said in a surprisingly soothing voice, "I won't take advantage of you unless you ask me to."
That kind of flirty comment should not have calmed Blaine, but he did allow his body to relax its taut posture.
"Punching is a matter of technique not strength," Sebastian voice was low as it ruffled the hairs on the back of his head, "The power of the punch doesn't come from your hand but your entire body."
Sebastian's foot nudged against his leg, "Stand with your feet shoulder length apart. You're right handed so step forward with your left foot."
Blaine followed his instructions precisely while using every mental technique to stop him from thinking about the warmth of Sebastian's body so close to his own.
Without warning Sebastian's hands loosely grabbed Blaine's hips. A sharp intake of breath passed through Blaine. He tried to ignore noticing how long Sebastian's fingers were pressed in his sides.
"When loading the punch crank your hips," Sebastian's hand directed Blaine to twist to the right, "Your hips turn when you throw the punch. The more your hips turn the harder your punch will be."
Those last instructions were given in a rough voice that Blaine should not have found attractive.
Sebastian abruptly dropped his hands and placed space between them. A chill slammed into Blaine's body once Sebastian's body was no longer there to protect him from it.
"Remember to zero in on a specific impact point," Sebastian's voice was aloof unlike the intimate tone before, "If you hit wildly you'll just hurt yourself."
Blaine stares at the bag that he had failed to punch properly minutes before. His hesitation this time was based on his fear of failing to do it right again or hurting himself. Blaine was not the type who punched or put up a fight. His natural reaction was not to be aggressive but to be passive. He knew the bitter truth that he was the type that ran away, that laid on the ground and took the abuse others gave him.
"Don't think," Sebastian's voice cut through his dark thoughts, "Just clear your mind of everything else but punching that bag."
Blaine curled his hand into a fist once more, this time using Sebastian's advice, he punched the bag hard. It still hurt but this time the pain was not sharp, and the bag gave way to the force of his body. His mouth open in surprise, Blaine gazed at his hand in a new found wonder.
"Better," Sebastian stated behind him, "But you need a lot of practice."
Practice ended up going on for nearly a half an hour. Blaine was fast becoming addicted to the adrenaline rush of using his body as an effective force. The pain in his hands dulled to an ache but Blaine kept hitting the bag with an unrelenting vigor. Sebastian had to eventually and literally pull him away, citing that he should not overdue it on the first day.
The two of the sat on the floor with their backs to the wall to rest, Sebastian had a couple of water bottles and towels waiting for them.
"You caught on quickly. You sure you haven't done that before?" Sebastian grinned at him before tipping his head back while he drank from his water bottle. Blaine's eyes darted away so he would not be caught starring at the moving muscles of his throat.
"Unless you count the fencing lessons I've taken since I was twelve," Blaine balled his sore hands into fists subconsciously.
"That'll come useful," Sebastian let out a dry chuckle, "If you ever find yourself in seventeenth century France. At least you can hold your own in a fight now."
Blaine tensed at those words. His hazel eyes darkened in anger as a frown settled on his face like the gathering of storm clouds.
"I not weak, you know,' Blaine whispered hoarsely.
"Who said you were?" Sebastian asked bluntly.
The veins in Blaine's had pop out from squeezing his hands too hard.
"I know what everyone thinks when they look at me," Blaine spat out harshly, "That I'm weak for not standing up against those bullies. For running away."
"Blaine," Sebastian tries to intercede but Blaine doesn't hear him.
"It's what my father thinks," Blaine's voice faltered and he felt tears burning at the back of his eyes, "I'm his pathetic gay son who couldn't stop a group of guys from beating the crap out of him."
"Is that what happened?" Sebastian asked evenly but Blaine is hastily getting to his feet.
"Now everyone treats me like I'm a broken doll that won't put up fight," Blaine eyes remained focused on the ground between them, "I know that's what you find attractive about me. You want to take advantage of that."
Sebastian regards the boy in front of him. His body is trembling not from sadness but a controlled anger that seethes beneath the surface, which is what Sebastian, always sees when he looks at Blaine. Not someone who is fragile or who needs to be handled delicately in fear that he'll break again. Instead he was someone who bottled everything up and his parts of himself because he could not handle the intensity of his emotions.
"I never thought of you as weak," Sebastian replied honestly causing Blaine to snap his head up to gaze at him with dumbstruck eyes.
"I can tell you're the kind of person who can take care of himself," Sebastian continued, "Maybe a bit tightly wound but not a pushover."
"Oh," Blaine took a moment to process the words he did not expect to hear, "I see."
"Actually, my attraction to you can be entirely blamed on your ass."
"You're unbelievable," Blaine groused but not with the usual venom.
"Seriously though Blaine that ass," Sebastian gave him a crafty smirk, "Is too perfect to be denied."
"It's just my ass." Blaine mumbles, folding his arms over his chest in discomfort.
"And the Mona Lisa is just a painting," Sebastian pushed himself off the floor to stand next to Blaine, "Doesn't make it anything less than a work of art."
Blaine stared at him sternly before the corners of his mouth twitched upwards.
"I almost got a smile there," Sebastian crowed proudly, playfully pinching Blaine's side.
"Shut up," Blaine shoved Sebastian's hand away, "What are you five?"
Blaine stalked off to gather his discarded hoodie with Sebastian closely behind him. Once their stuff was gathered Sebastian turned off the lights and the two climbed the stairs back to the main building.
"You know next time you should teach me fencing," Sebastian mused thoughtfully, "I do love a good swordfight with a man."
Throwing a blushing Blaine a wink, Sebastian walked down the hall to his dorm.
Watching Sebastian leave it suddenly struck Blaine while wanted to remain friends with Sebastian. Not because of his own perceived attractiveness or the shameless flirty. Out of all the students Blaine grew to know at Dalton Sebastian was the only one who did not act like Blaine was made of glass. He never approached Blaine by walkig on egg shells around him as though he might shatter with having the wrong thing said to him. He never hesitated to enter into Blaine's personal space.
With an amused but defeated smile Blaine realized that somehow Sebastian Smythe managed to break through his defenses.
Blaine just hoped that he would not live to regret allowing him to do so.
A/N: Hello! Thank you to everyone for the support I've been getting! It really helped prevent me from being a lazy bum this holiday season. Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter ^_^
Next Chapter: The chapter you've all been waiting for…Sebastian takes Blaine and the Warblers to a gay bar. Let the shenanigans ensue!