Title: Close To Nothing
Author: an-alternate-world
Rating: M
Characters/Pairing: Sebastian Smythe/Blaine Anderson
Word Count: 7,524
Summary: Seblaine Week 2015: Day 1 (Post-Glee) It's been a little over nine years, but the moment he sees a familiar set of eyes, he's frozen to the spot. His eyes are wide. His mouth is a little agape. And then he moves. They both do.
Warnings/Spoilers: Canonical and past character death.
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with Glee, FOX, Ryan Murphy, or anything else related to the FOX universe.


Their meetings increase from every second or third day to almost every night.

Occasionally Sebastian has to work late or Blaine is too tired from a long day of listening to people and just wants to go home to his bed and sleep, but Sebastian knows they still see each other a lot.

Usually they end up at Sebastian's place, curled up on the couch or the bed after eating dinner and exchanging quiet stories. Sebastian slowly begins to talk about Andy more and the playing field of secrets shared begins to level out. Blaine is always interested, gently prompting and then offering comfort when Sebastian stumbles through a memory, like his first real date with Andy two days after New Year that had made him think he'd really met the perfect person. Other times, Blaine is crying with laughter like when Sebastian tells him of the first time he and Andy tried having sex in the shower and it ended up with Andy fracturing his wrist and Sebastian bruising his tail bone after they slipped on the tiled floor.

Sometimes he wonders if he should be telling Blaine so much about Andy. Is it wrong to share intimate, sexual details of a deceased husband with a friend? He can see the funny side of the stories too, and Blaine's giggles lead to a more genuine, larger smile than he's had in years, but still he wonders if it's inappropriate, if there's an invisible line where he's saying too much. Blaine never indicates he doesn't want to hear it, that he's uncomfortable with the discussion, but the uncertainty lurks on the edge of Sebastian's feelings.

There are some things he definitely won't talk about though, and he's not sure if he ever will.

Any more details about the night Andy died, or the funeral, are completely off the table. In his nightmares, he can still see the ashen faces of his in-laws as he insisted they take the urn. He'd never been able to tell them that having it in his apartment would have made him want to leap from his window or into the path of a train.

He never talks about the wedding and he refuses to show Blaine any photos of Andy's face. He can tell Blaine is curious because he was once asked to describe what Andrew looked like and what it was that made Sebastian so interested in him. Sebastian had shook his head and asked for his silence to be respected, and Blaine kissed his cheek and promised that it was. Recalling Andy's face always led to him remembering that final night, of seeing things no one should ever have to see of someone they loved so much. He can't describe Andy's face without seeing that face too.

Blaine never pushes him or asks why he won't respond to some of the questions. If Sebastian pauses too long or stutters over an answer, Blaine changes the subject with a different question or a memory of his own. The exchange of information isn't as simple as when he met Andy, but Sebastian wasn't as broken then.

The week before Thanksgiving, like every year before it, Sebastian draws into a mode of complete isolation. His thesis supervisor and a couple of other class professors give him extensions and leeway to grieve. His boss from hell gives him the fortnight off with full pay. His mom calls, several times, but he lets it go to voicemail.

By the time the week of Thanksgiving is upon them, Sebastian stops trying to leave his apartment so Blaine comes to him. It doesn't matter how long Blaine's days might have been, he's there every night without fail. He cooks dinner and Sebastian numbly, automatically, helps clean up. Blaine holds him in bed and sings him to sleep. Sebastian's vaguely aware that Blain got the week off and he joins Sebastian in his self-imposed exile. There isn't even the faintest hint of a protest on his lips.

Without a doubt, it's the worst week on Sebastian's calendar. It's worse than the anti-joy of every New Year or the anniversary of moving in together. It's worse than the day he met Andy or the anniversary of their marriage. He thinks it's because Thanksgiving is a time to give thanks for the family you have and he knows everyone gathers to reminisce, to catch up, to laugh and be surrounded by loved ones, and he's just reminded of all that he's lost.

The nightmares return that week.

During the year, he might dream bits and pieces but the week of Thanksgiving it all comes back in vivid detail. He relives the crash over and over, repeatedly waking Blaine with his thrashing and screaming and sobbing. Every time he rattles awake, Blaine is holding him close and tight, hushing him and stroking his hair and singing whatever song can be conjured first. It's the singing that pulls Sebastian away from the panic attacks but he doesn't know how to tell Blaine that. It soothes him back to sleep but then the nightmarish process repeats over and over and he can tell the interrupted sleep pattern is having an effect on Blaine too. The guilt leaves him feeling nauseous but his mind won't give him anything more pleasant to dream about.

Sebastian shuts down further on Thursday. He doesn't speak for the day. He remains curled in bed with the blankets to his chin and a pillow against his chest. Blaine spoons around him, hands never straying far, until he murmurs he's going to make dinner. Sebastian doesn't say he has no appetite. He dreads what he'll find on the table when it's done.

To his credit, Blaine makes a dinner that is carefully put together, as thoroughly normal as any of the other meals he's made in previous days. To Sebastian's eyes, there's nothing special about it, nothing that screams a Thanksgiving feast, and Sebastian lacks the words to express himself when he sees it. He squeezes Blaine's hand in thanks and Blaine gives him an understanding smile and presses his nose into Sebastian's shoulder. Sebastian doesn't eat much, the sick churning in his stomach making it impossible to consume anything, but Blaine assures him that it's okay and stores the leftovers in the fridge before leading Sebastian back to bed.

Blaine has a shower and it leaves Sebastian alone with his thoughts for too many minutes. The memories of the crash flood his mind after the amount of nightmares he's had. He doesn't realise he's curled into a ball, his body shaking and his breathing stabbing out of him as he recalls screams and tyre screeches and headlights coming at him from every direction inside his head, until Blaine's singing draws his focus and he realises he's tucked into safe, strong arms again.

He's not sure when Blaine got out of the shower.

They lay facing each other that night, a lamp in the corner left on. Blaine thinks the light might help if he falls asleep and wakes up in a panic, trying to thrash free of the haunting memories in the dark.

But he doesn't sleep.

Neither of them do.

His limbs tremble in Blaine's hold which is so firm and tight but he can't stop the chill that seems to have settled in the pit of his stomach. Blaine constantly adjusts the blankets, even getting up to pull another one from his cupboards at one stage, but it's not because the air of the apartment is cold – it's because Sebastian can't stop reliving the crash. Staring into Blaine's hazel eyes helps, it keeps him from closing his eyes and seeing it all in too much detail, but the memories are still there, still flickering on constant replay just behind his eyes.

When morning starts to lighten the room and he's still shivering, Blaine seems to make a decision.

"I want to get you into the bath."

Sebastian doesn't really understand the words. His ability to comprehend things is distorted but he allows Blaine to hold his hand and pull him from the bed. His teeth chatter as he shuffles after the shorter male and Blaine helps him sit on the toilet seat before he turns on the water.

As the tub fills Blaine strips out of his sweatpants and hoodie, folding them neatly onto the bathroom sink. He stands in his boxer-briefs and an undershirt and it says a lot for Sebastian's state that he doesn't even care about trying to admire the areas of exposed skin he'd fantasised about on many nights as a teenager.

"Will you let me help you out of your clothes?"

Blaine bends to hover in Sebastian's line of vision, but he barely sees Blaine. His shoulders quake, his lower lip quivers, and his hands are wobbling so badly that he'd slosh a cup of coffee all over himself right now.

"Seb?" Blaine touches his cheek and Sebastian tries to make himself focus. He isn't sure what the question was so he nods his agreement to whatever it is Blaine wanted.

Blaine's guidance is what leads to raising his arms for the removal of his t-shirt taken off and standing so that his cotton pyjama pants can be lowered to pool at his ankles. The tub is filled and Blaine folds the clothing to rest on top of his, leaving Sebastian in his briefs. Sebastian feels exposed and vulnerable, the scars from the crash evident on his skin, but he's too lost in his memories to really register it and he's left blindly trusting Blaine to know what to do.

Blaine helps him step into the tub and the water is warm, bordering on too warm, but he doesn't speak, doesn't make a sound, as he's encouraged to sit. Blaine scoots behind him, his legs surrounding Sebastian's body, coaxing his head to lean back against his shoulder. The warmth of the water covers them both and it ripples with Sebastian's unstoppable shaking.

Blaine's arms wrap around him, his hands resting against Sebastian's stomach but unmoving. There's nothing sexual about this despite their lack of clothes. Sebastian can feel his forehead getting slick with sweat from the heat of the bath, but he can also feel that his limbs aren't shaking beyond his control so much anymore. Blaine's cheek is pressed against the side of his head, a soft hum of another tune he doesn't recognise filtering into his ear.

The water is lukewarm before Blaine speaks, his right arm spanned across Sebastian's chest to rest his hand over his heart. "How do you feel?"

It's such a cliché psychologist question that Sebastian nearly laughs, but he's much too tired to do that. "Better," he croaks, although he's not sure it's the truth. The shaking has stopped but he still feels hollow inside. He suspects Blaine knows anyway.

"Do you want to eat something? Or should we go back to the bed?"

The fact Sebastian has to make a decision overwhelms him and his silence as the internal battle rages seems to alert Blaine to a problem.

"Bed, then. We'll eat later."

Sebastian nods and Blaine kisses his temple before releasing him to guide him back to standing. The air of the bathroom feels cool on his damp skin, but Blaine dries him quickly and thoroughly and returns with a dry pair of underwear for Sebastian to change into.

"I'll leave your clothes on the sink. I'll be in the bedroom and change into dry things. If you need something, knock on the bathroom door and I'll be right in. Okay?"

Sebastian processes the words slowly. When he comprehends what he has to do, he nods. Blaine leaves Sebastian's clothes behind and presses the door shut.

It takes Sebastian longer than it should to pull off his briefs, dry the skin Blaine hadn't dared touch, and dress himself. He feels like a dysfunctional robot, an incapable child, but there's still some of that stubbornness simmering below the surface that makes him determined to do something as basic as put his goddamn clothes on without help.

By the time he exits the bathroom, Blaine is dressed in sweats and a t-shirt that he'd left behind in one of Sebastian's drawers a couple of weeks ago and sits on the edge of the mattress. He stands when Sebastian enters and threads their fingers together, leading him back to the bed.

With Blaine stroking his hair and humming again, despite how much he's afraid to close his eyes, Sebastian is powerless to do anything but give into the fatigue.


When he wakes, it's dark outside the window and Blaine is snoring softly behind him. An arm is slung over his waist and he can feel the lines of Blaine's body against his back. He doesn't even realise he didn't have a nightmare about the crash until Blaine nuzzles his head against Sebastian's and his lips tickle the back of his neck.

It's about the same time as Blaine mumbles Sebastian's name in his sleep, something which sounds more like he's having a dream than an acknowledgement that he's awake, that Sebastian realises how entangled Blaine has become in his life. He relies on Blaine, he trusts him – maybe not as much as Andy, maybe never as much as Andy – but Blaine has closed the gaping wound around his heart into something less noticeable. It's taken a lot of effort to ease into Sebastian's life and it was so gentle, so effortless, that Sebastian hadn't even realised it had happened.

He can see the faint silver of the ring in the dark and spins it around his finger with his thumb. He's worn it for an extra six years now. It's not that he was holding onto a ghost, or a sliver of hope that Andy hadn't really died and would turn up on his doorstep with a bunch of brightly coloured flowers "just because" again. It's more that he'd never been able to accept Andy was truly gone and never believed he could open himself up to another person. The ring meant people kept their distance because they assumed he was married. The ring was a good excuse to avoid a pointless, heartless hook-up. The ring reminded him of how he had willingly tied his life to someone after twenty years of scoffing at relationships. The ring reminded him he was capable of loving, although he wasn't sure he'd ever feel that way again.

He can't bring himself to remove it, and he doesn't think Blaine's grip would allow him enough wiggle room to take it off and place it on the bedside table anyway, but he starts to realise that he could be okay with taking it off. It's not a betrayal to move on after Andy's death. He knows that if he had died, he would have wanted Andy to heal and find happiness again. He knew Andy well enough to know that Andy would have wanted the exact same thing for him.

Instead of the anxiety of moving on without his partner, he faces a new fear.

He's terrified that Blaine sees him, has only ever seen him and will only ever see him, as a friend and nothing more.


They never talk about the fortnight around Thanksgiving.

Sebastian squeezes Blaine's hand in thanks and Blaine squeezes back with a small smile to acknowledge it. The days kaleidoscope together and at some point, Sebastian rings his mom and assures her he's still alive, that he's doing okay. He knows his mother always frets about him "doing something stupid" around this time of year. He can't blame her. He's definitely thought about it in the past but this year he's okay. And he tells her that. He tells her that he has good days and bad days, but he truly believes he is doing okay now.

He still sees Blaine almost every day, and on the days that he can't, they text whenever possible and then talk on the phone late into the night. It's like high school all over again, except this time he knows Blaine doesn't feel guilty because Hummel is on his case about it. He listens to the sounds of Blaine's breathing over the phone when the male falls asleep without meaning to, letting it soothe Sebastian until he inevitably hangs up and wraps around a pillow to sleep, inhaling the faint scent of raspberry, coffee, vanilla and cinnamon that is embedded in the fabric.

At some point on one of those nights that Blaine doesn't stay over, he realises he's been imagining the pillow is Blaine in his arms rather than Andy's chest. He spends an hour or two crying, grieving again for a loss that always seems to feel raw when he's alone, and he barely speaks when Blaine makes his late call before they sleep.

"I should be there," Blaine murmurs and Sebastian knows Blaine feels guilty.

"I'm a big boy, Blaine."

"Big boys can still be held at night."

Blaine insists on staying with Sebastian over Christmas, although Sebastian knows Blaine's parents aren't impressed by the news he won't be coming home. He'd heard Blaine trying to pacify his mother or his father, and one time an argument with Cooper that led to Blaine saying, "How many Christmases have you not gone home, Coop?" before he ends the call and switches the phone off with a growl.

Sebastian doesn't say he's glad he won't be alone over the break – he hasn't gone home to his parents for any major holiday since the accident – but he knows Blaine can tell.

It's a quiet Christmas, but it's nicer that way. They watch cheesy Christmas movies and drink eggnog and Blaine even convinces him to get a tacky fake tree to put in the corner of his living room. He wakes up one morning to find Blaine surrounded by tinsel and baubles and strings of multi-coloured lights. Sebastian has no idea where any of it came from but the tip of Blaine's tongue is poking out of his lips in concentration while he decorates the tree and it's too adorable to interrupt. He hides a private smile and silently retreats towards the kitchen to make breakfast.

He wonders if they're becoming too domestic, if Blaine has infiltrated the secret pockets of his life and they've fallen into a relationship neither of them is really able, or willing, to define. It's like high school, where he'd flirt with Blaine and, as far as he was concerned, Blaine would flirt back. They were more than friends but they couldn't have been more because Blaine was already taken.

It sort of feels like that again. Blaine is more than a friend – he can't imagine letting any other friend, gay or straight, male or female, hold him the way Blaine does – and yet there's nothing sexual about any of it. Maybe it's because there's an easy familiarity of being around each other but Sebastian isn't sure what that means they are.

Blaine's arms wrap around him from behind while Sebastian watches the pancakes sizzle in the pan. He can feel Blaine's nose nuzzle into his shoulder blades, a mutter of "Good morning" into his skin, before Blaine moves away to put on a fresh pot of coffee.

He just wishes he understood what it meant to have such a familiar exchange.

They move through Christmas, exchanging gifts on Christmas morning. Blaine is delighted by the ridiculously large adolescent psychology texts and a variety of piano music books. Sebastian hugs the scrapbook Blaine made to his chest, the various high school photos and photos Blaine has taken over the past months aweing him. He's afraid he'll let it go and it will be slide like sand through his fingers. He isn't sure what to say and his eyes are shiny and red-rimmed when Blaine glances across at him because he's been silent for so long. Blaine squeezes his hand and kisses his forehead and again Sebastian wonders what they are.

The break means Sebastian has no classes, assignments, or work. The schools are shut so Blaine has a lot of time as well. Sometimes they venture out for walks through the cold, holding hands – although their fingers aren't entwined – and going places. Sebastian takes Blaine to the Museum of Modern Art, pointing out artists he likes and others that Andy did. Blaine's artwork taste is much more expressive, although Sebastian is hardly surprised. Blaine has always been bubblier than Sebastian, regardless of how "out there" Sebastian might once have been.

In response, Blaine takes Sebastian to a philharmonic orchestra performance at the Lincoln Center and Sebastian spends far too much time watching Blaine. The male has his eyes closed – so Sebastian doesn't get caught staring – but he's fascinated by the way Blaine's fingers flick along to the music like the conductor. He wonders again why Blaine never went into something with music but he knows Blaine is incredibly passionate about working with the youth of the city.

The approach of New Year starts to make Sebastian hurt again, but it's less than previous years. Blaine has already promised a quiet night in and Sebastian doesn't protest. Blaine always knows what he needs better than he knows himself. He definitely knows it before Sebastian does.

Midnight comes and goes, and Sebastian tries to hide the tears that spill down his cheeks as he watches the ball drop and the subsequent celebrations in Times Square on TV. Of course Blaine realises and wipes them away, switching off the television and getting Sebastian to focus on him until the pain recedes.

"Let's go to bed," Blaine suggests, and Sebastian nods. He squeezes Blaine's hand and tilts his head towards the bathroom and Blaine lets him go, promising he'll be in the bedroom when Sebastian is finished.

Sebastian stares at himself in the mirror for a while, noting that he desperately needs a haircut but otherwise… Otherwise, he's pretty sure he looks a little less gaunt than he did in the summer. His eyes are a bit more green with life. His cheeks have a dusting of colour because he hasn't been told he's too pale in a while. The reflection gazing at him doesn't make him want to punch the glass for the first time in years.

His attention lowers to where his hands grip the sink, and the sparkle of the small diamond of his ring catches his eye. He's been thinking about the ring since Thanksgiving, keeping it on for security rather than because he still feels like he promised his entire life to Andy. Their marriage had only been brief, a few amazing months, but he'd been in a relationship with Andy for nearly two solid years at the time of his death and it was... It had been a sudden and shocking loss, a horrific accident that had broken his bones and haunted his mind. The images of Andy in the mangled wreck of the car, the sound of the blaring horn, his blood-soaked hair...

He had many good memories of Andy but sometimes he couldn't see past the final image he had.

Tears build in his eyes and his breathing shortens. He can feel himself shaking and he forces a breath past his lips and looks down at the ring again, trying to use the memories of their wedding to distract him from the accident. He can imagine Andy's radiant smile, the smell of white roses around them, the quiet hush of their families and friends watching. He can feel Andy's hands in his, telling him that it's okay and reminding him to stay calm.

It's the sort of moment he needs to make his decision final.

His heart flutters in his chest as he turns the ring on his finger and then drags it off. There's a sharp tan line around his finger which reinforces how he's never removed, not once. He's never removed it for a shower or a bath or cleaning the apartment, since Andy put it on at their wedding.

A tear slides down his cheek when he places it on the bathroom counter. He's spent three times as many years grieving, and not grieving, for Andy than they were together. How many years is he going to let the ghosts sit on his shoulders? How many years is he going to ignore the possibility of new happiness? What if clinging to Andy meant he eventually lost Blaine?

He snaps off the lights and leaves the bathroom before he can second-guess his decision. He'd accepted Andy entering his life with a New Year's kiss and now he was starting to accept Andy had exited his life on New Year's. It's beautiful, in its own way, although his heart is twisting into knots and every step into the bedroom makes him want to turn and run back, forcing the ring onto his finger again because he feels so empty without it.

But…

It doesn't feel wrong to take it off and allow himself to move on. It's been a safety net and he doesn't want that anymore. He trusts Blaine to stay with him. He trusts Blaine to help him.

Blaine's turned down the bed covers when he enters the bedroom and he slides into the male's embrace. The lights are off so Blaine can't see that the ring is gone and it offers a small ounce of relief to Sebastian because he's not sure he has the words to say what he did. Removing the ring is symbolic but it weighs on his tongue.

They fall asleep like so many other nights, arms and legs tangled together and Blaine's soft humming calming him to the point of dreamless slumber.


He stirs awake midmorning, the winter sun glowing behind the curtains. There are no arms around his body and when he rolls over, the side of the bed Blaine had been on last night – the side of the bed Sebastian used to occupy but can't bring himself to because that means Blaine is on the side Andy used to be on – is completely cold.

He feels a surge of panic and stumbles out of bed into the living room. Blaine isn't there, and when he goes to the kitchen, Blaine isn't there either. There's no note. There wasn't any reason for him to leave.

He races to the bathroom but it's empty. The ring on the counter mocks him and denial floods his system. Blaine wouldn't just leave… Blaine wouldn't just…

But when Sebastian sees that Blaine's shoes, coat and scarf are gone, he starts fearing the worst. He's alone in his apartment and there's no note. He doesn't know when Blaine left. He doesn't know why Blaine left. The suspicion that grows in his chest threatens to strangle him.

His knees buckle and sobs are already rattling past his lips before he's even curled into a ball.

What he's crying for, what he's lost, he can't even name.


Blaine returns late in the evening. The knock at the door is soft and Sebastian's pretty sure his eyes must be swollen when he answers it because Blaine's mouth turns down.

But Sebastian also sees that Blaine's eyes are red too and he doesn't think the frigid temperatures outside are to blame.

He leaves the door ajar and turns away, leaving Blaine to make the decision whether to enter or not. It hurts too much to see him, to have spent the day lost in his thoughts and his memories. He hasn't showered. He hasn't eaten. Until the knock on the door, Sebastian hadn't been able to move from the spot on his bedroom floor that he'd collapsed to earlier.

He falls onto the couch and Blaine's footsteps are quiet after he removes his shoes. The other male sits on the coffee table, clearing away a couple of magazines so he can sit opposite Sebastian. Sebastian can see hands reaching for him from the edge of his vision but they freeze and retreat into Blaine's lap, folding together as if he's unsure about what to do with them for the first time ever.

"I'm sorry I left this morning without waking you or leaving a note," Blaine says, and Sebastian realises Blaine apologises for a lot of things. He wonders if that was a problem with Hummel, if maybe Blaine's desperate need to repair their never-going-to-work relationship was part of what drove them further and further apart.

Sebastian doesn't nod, or shrug, or look up, or even acknowledge that Blaine's spoken. He hears the shakiness of Blaine's exhale that makes him think Blaine is about to start crying.

"I…spent the day with Kurt," Blaine admits, so slow that caution is layered in every word. Sebastian scowls before he can stop himself.

Sebastian's halfway to his feet, because he doesn't need to hear that Blaine met up with his ex, the one person Sebastian can't stand and thought Blaine had cut out of his life years ago, when Blaine's hands touch his thighs and push him onto the couch.

Sebastian's not impressed with being forced to do something. He's pretty sure Blaine knows that.

"You took off your ring."

There's no surprise. It's a blunt observation, a neutral tone that makes it clear Blaine hadn't just seen his empty hand. Sebastian continues to be silent. He has nothing to say. He's pretty sure if he tries to say anything, he'll just end up crying again.

"You took off your ring, Seb. I saw it on the counter this morning when I went to the toilet and I got scared and I ran and I'm sorry."

Sebastian wants to look up at Blaine's face, wants to demand answers that he's not sure Blaine is willing to give, but he's stubborn and defensive and completely and utterly vulnerable. Maybe he'll say something and shatter into pieces that he'll never be able to repair. Maybe he'll say something and drive Blaine away from him.

Blaine is quiet for a while. His knees press against Sebastian's. It's the only point of contact between them and Sebastian is reminded of how much he hates Blaine sitting on his coffee table so his face can be seen. He deliberately lowers his head further so he's looking down at his lap.

"I went to Kurt because I needed to talk to someone who once knew me better than anyone else," Blaine explains, his words betraying his uncertainty. "We don't talk much. We almost never see each other anymore, but he's very good at picking out what's important among all my ramblings and piecing together a new logic. Maybe it's part of why I've never let him go because sometimes he offers clarity and I'm afraid I… I'll run my mouth and screw up and upset you. And I couldn't live with myself if I did that."

Sebastian's fingers have clenched. Even now he hates Hummel and he's jealous that Blaine ran to Hummel to work through the mess in his head. Why couldn't Blaine have waited until Sebastian woke up so they could talk about whatever it is that freaked Blaine out so much that he fled? Why didn't Blaine trust Sebastian to listen to the ramblings? He has no right to feel this way – they aren't anything in particular – but feelings don't have to make sense.

"Why did you remove your ring, Sebastian?"

Sebastian maintains his silence. He's still hurt, and mad, and jealous, and upset, and he's spent the day crying because he thought Blaine had walked out of his life once and for all. He thought his biggest fear for months had come true and now he feels like shit for doubting Blaine's promise to always be there for him.

Blaine sighs and Sebastian can hear him running his fingers through his hair. He knows that means Blaine's frustrated and it feels like he should pat himself on the back for being able to rile someone up without saying a word.

"Kurt thinks you removed your ring because you're finally letting go, because you no longer feel like you're betraying Andy's mem-"

"You told Hummel?" The words snap out of him, harsh and abrupt. He's looking into Blaine's eyes before he quite registers that he's raised his head. There are tracks of tears down Blaine's cheeks that Sebastian hadn't realised were shed, but his temper, his protectiveness over his most treasured relationship, means that any attempt at comforting Blaine is non-existent. He wants to throw another water glass at the wall just to shatter something before he shatters himself.

Blaine shakes his head. "No, no, no! I told him I was struggling with helping an older client. It was a person who had once been married and lost their partner but they'd kept their ring on," Blaine explains, biting his lower lip. Sebastian can see the fear in Blaine's expression. "I didn't give names or details of how or when or anything. Using Andy's name is my words, not his. He doesn't know it was you, Sebastian. I promise. I would never tell him such personal details about you."

Sebastian still feels furious that Hummel knows anything about him, even in an abstract sense, because Andrew is so intensely, incredibly private, but maybe Blaine had concealed enough of the secrets. It pacifies him enough to deflate his temper and he looks at his lap again.

"It took Kurt a long time to remove the engagement ring I gave him," Blaine says, switching topics like he often does to distract Sebastian away from the things he hates feeling. "He kept thinking that we had repaired things so many times before that we could repair things again. It took him months until he realised I was serious about the break-up, and even longer before he removed the ring. Like me, he didn't get into many lasting relationships for a while because he was stuck with the thoughts of an ended relationship he'd once believed would last him the rest of his life."

Some of Sebastian's fury abates, but he hates that what Blaine describes is so similar to how he's felt for years. He doesn't like thinking he has anything in common with Hummel.

"He finally removed the ring when he'd accepted he could love again, when he was willing to try to meet others. He called me the day he did it, actually. We hadn't spoken in months but he asked if I would give him my blessing to take it off, and I gave it to him because I couldn't hate him for it and wished him the best. I know he was crying and it was several months before we talked again, but it's a conversation I remember because he tried to explain what it was like to let go, to allow himself a chance at happiness again."

Sebastian hears Blaine's unsteady breathing and tries not to twitch when one of Blaine's hands moves to rest against his knee.

"So that's why he thinks my 'mystery client' might be ready and took off his ring. He said he couldn't imagine what the client would be going through, because I'm still here and I… I know Andy isn't but he gave me more perspective when my thoughts were a mess because I wasn't sure if you'd be able, or willing, to explain it to me." Blaine pauses, hesitation threading between each heartbeat. "I think if you had the words, you would have told me what you'd done when you came to bed last night rather than pretending everything was normal."

Sebastian's resentment melts when he realises Blaine had contacted Hummel for reasons that were…acceptable. He's not happy about it, but it's sort of another instance where Blaine knew Sebastian better than he knows himself. Rather than try to push Sebastian into talking, he sought out someone who could help him understand his reasons, offering Blaine knowledge or insight into what to do to help when he returned. He can't really begrudge Blaine that, even if it is Hummel. He understood the value in external, neutral perspectives.

"I… I'm not… I'm not assuming anything about…what…w-we have-" Sebastian notes the new wobble in Blaine's voice but doesn't comment on it. "-but Kurt helped me gain some ideas because I've always been a little…oblivious about my feelings."

Sebastian recalls the stories of how much Blaine used to throw himself at Hummel at Dalton, and how Hummel threw himself back, and yet Blaine was still so completely innocent to any and all advances that Sebastian made towards him. It was that naivety which had drawn him to Blaine in the first place, the purity that made him blush so easily underlined by a maturity Sebastian had failed to fathom at the time. It wasn't until after the slushie incident, when Sebastian heard bits and pieces about what had brought Blaine to Dalton in the first place, that he'd realised Blaine was far from the foolish teenager he'd assumed him to be.

It had also made him feel so much worse that he'd been viewed like one of those bullies at Blaine's old school.

There's a deep breath and Blaine's hand moves off Sebastian's knee to linger against the back of his fidgeting hands. "I realised you make me happy, Seb. You give me a purpose to my days and nights. I realised I like holding you, and I like being held by you."

Sebastian bites down on the hint of a smile because he likes that too, despite never being someone who saw the value in being little spoon. Blaine's in full 'speech' mode and he can hear the slight waver to his voice as he continues.

"I realised I like watching silly Christmas movies with you. I like singing you to sleep. I like soothing away your nightmares. And I like the tousled look to your hair when you wander into the kitchen and get a cup of coffee before you even acknowledge that I'm sitting at the kitchen table smiling at you."

Sebastian can feel the thump of his heart slowly increasing in his chest, a twisting in his stomach as he digests the words. There's a definite ringing in his ears which sounds like an odd mixture of buzzing bees and his heartbeat and a high-pitched whine and- This reminds him of the speech he'd heard Blaine gave Hummel. He refuses to believe he's getting one of those Blaine Anderson speeches because he's not sure he's prepared for his heart to leap from his chest and tap-dance out the door.

"I like it when you smile, truly smile, and I like it when you hold my hand because you're always so warm."

It's true. Blaine's hands and feet were usually freezing. Three pairs of socks and two blankets hadn't been enough last week.

"I like having texts from you when I finish a session with a client and I like that you gave me a drawer in your bedroom to store a few of my things. I like that you called me when you were drunk because you allowed yourself to need me. I like that you trusted me with the story of what happened because I know how incredibly hard that must have been. And I like that you are one of the strongest, most beautifully imperfect people I know."

Sebastian wants to scrunch his nose and disagree because he's not beautifully imperfect, he's flawless, but that's too much like what he would have said and done in high school, arguing over semantics when he knows it isn't true. He's completely flawed now. It's impossible not to be.

Blaine's other hand joins his first, wrapping around Sebastian's to stop them fidgeting. It's cooler than Sebastian's but he can also feel the faint trembles.

"And I like that you've become my best friend, the one I want to share every detail of my day with. I like that you always listen to me, even when I know you've had a really long day, and I know I'm actually being heard. I like that I'm not afraid to hug you or reach for you, and I like that I know you watch me when I'm sleeping or we're watching television but you think I don't know. Because I do."

Sebastian feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment but keeps quiet. He's trying to grapple with everything Blaine is saying. Blaine is apparently putting his heart on the line like Sebastian has seen so many times before, waiting for it – expecting it – to be trampled. Sebastian thinks maybe his breathing has shortened because it's the only explanation he has for how dizzy he feels.

"I like that I can be here for you, and I like that you allow me to be here for you. And I…"

Blaine pauses, and Sebastian's fairly sure that anyone in a six block radius could hear how loudly his heart is beating, how every beat has an eternity between them where a whole lifetime could be lived.

"I don't know what taking off the ring means to you, and I know I shouldn't like that you've taken it off because I know how much Andy continues to mean to you, but I do like it because I… I like you, Sebastian."

Blaine's hands are definitely shaking worse than before, although he's not entirely sure that his own hands aren't shaking too.

"Somewhere along the way, I realised I wasn't just hanging around because I was determined to try to help you, but because I genuinely liked being in your company and wanting to be with you. I like being your friend, and I… I'm really sorry I took advantage of your attempt at friendship when we were both in school. I never realised what I was missing out on."

It stirs something in Sebastian's chest, that broken, sincere tone that pokes at the stillness that has locked every muscle into place since Blaine started talking. He allows his head to raise, his eyes finding that familiar golden colour that has always fascinated him. Blaine's cheeks are still shiny, his eyes still red, and Sebastian realises Blaine is a better silent crier than he ever realised. He wonders how many times Blaine had cried when Sebastian was asleep.

Blaine seems to have exhausted his reserve of words and he stares back at Sebastian, trying to read something that he's not sure there is to see. The look on Blaine's face isn't exactly hopeful, but neither is it crushed or resigned by Sebastian's lack of response. He just seems to be waiting, letting the words wrap about Sebastian's shoulders and imprint on his skin.

Sebastian doesn't have the words for a response. He's always been more physical than verbal. He couldn't confess to liking Andy, he had to kiss him among a sea of people cheering about the New Year. He couldn't admit to liking that they had moved in together, he had to take his time worshipping Andy's body beneath him until he knew his gratitude was clear. He could hardly get the words of his proposal out, but Andy had been patient and known what was happening when Sebastian had gone down on one knee. He had struggled around the words of his vows, but Andy's hands had been in his, steady and sure and squeezing to acknowledge that he understood all that Sebastian hadn't been able to say.

It's why, rather than say anything, he opens the ball of his hands to hold them out, palm up, to Blaine. It's an acknowledgement of everything the other male has said, and the opposite of a rejection. He's just too overwhelmed to put it into words because speaking it aloud will feel like betraying Andy. He never intended to say he felt anything for anyone else but his first boyfriend, his first partner, his first lover.

His husband.

But he can't deny that what Blaine feels is how Sebastian is starting to feel, and he's finally allowing Blaine's tendency for tactility to be accepted.

There's one of those brilliant smiles that makes Sebastian's breath catch when Blaine sees the hands and his fingers move to lace between the gaps. He gives a little tug – he's not entirely sure his heart doesn't do a little tug in his chest too – and Blaine stands and sits on Sebastian's thighs, wrapping arms around his neck while his arms circle Blaine's waist. He shifts to rest easier against the back of the couch, keeping the smaller male wrapped in his arms when Blaine lowers his head to rest on Sebastian's shoulder.

They sit and hold each other for what could very well be hours. Sebastian's thighs start to ache but he wouldn't let Blaine go for the world. Just like Andy knew the meaning behind each touch, each gesture, that Sebastian made so does Blaine. Being held in Sebastian's lap repeats everything Blaine said but he doesn't have to utter a sound.

And he knows Blaine knows that.


~TBC~