A/N: Thank you for the follows and feedbacks on this fic. The plan is to update this once a week but since I haven't had a chance to do many seblaine one-shots lately, I decided to post this early. Please note that there's a flashback of the death of a character and the mentioning of death of another character (NOT Seblaine). If you enjoyed this, please review and rec it. Also, I have a Tumblr where I post my Seblaine drabbles and fan arts that are not posted here. I'd be honored if you can follow me at "rykerstrom . tumblr . com". Thanks!

Chapter 4

It was a somewhat awkward and embarrassing ordeal for Blaine to put on the clothes. He was still sore and aching everywhere. His muscles screamed in protest when Blaine raised his arms the wrong way, and every time he had to reach or lean over for something, a sharp pain would shoot up his spine, reminding him of the activities that he had recently engaged in.

Another wince escaped from Blaine's lips before he had a chance to stop it. He was trying to bend down to reach for his shoes but no matter what he did, it hurt.

"Sit." Sebastian put his hand on Blaine's shoulder and crouched down.

Blaine watched as Sebastian reached for his shoes and slipped them onto Blaine's feet. Silence hung in the air as Sebastian tied up the shoe laces, one shoe at a time. It was an odd sight to behold. It felt domesticated, normal even. But there was nothing normal about the situation Blaine was in, he bitterly reminded himself.

Sebastian poured a small amount of hair product onto his hand and carded his fingers through Blaine's hair. The strangely tender gesture reminded Blaine of his childhood; when his mother would dote on him and make him look presentable before a big family gathering. Or The Reaping. Blaine pushed the thought of his childhood away, refusing to let his happier memories be tainted by the reality of his current situation.

"Let's go, we're running late." Sebastian gripped Blaine's arm gently but firmly and pulled him up. Sebastian grabbed his coat and a jacket that Blaine surmised must be his. Blaine didn't even bother taking a good look at himself when he walked past the giant mirror in the hallway. He was certain that he would hate the person that was staring back at him.

While the Capital during the day could best be described as majestic and extravagant, the Capital at night was downright gaudy and ostentatious. The windows of the limousine that they were riding in were tinted, but it did little to help tone down the harsh, colorful lights that were pulsating away from all the buildings. Blaine wondered if the residents of Capital had their eyes genetically altered in order to tolerate this kind of brightness.

"I have to admit, it's a bit much." Sebastian gestured at what was outside. "It's one of the reasons I have my windows tinted."

Blaine wondered what the other reasons were and found himself blushing at the thought.

"Champagne?" Sebastian held out a glass to Blaine. Blaine had this drink once before, during the training time for the Games; but he wasn't really a fan of it. Nonetheless, he nodded and held out his glass while Sebastian filled it up.

"Thank you."

"You'll probably need more than Champagne later, I know I would." Blaine wasn't sure what Sebastian meant by that, but he did notice that the man didn't seem thrilled about the appointment they were attending.

The limousine made a turn and pulled into a long driveway, stopping at the entrance of a large mansion. While Blaine couldn't hear what was going on inside, the bright lights and decorations indicated that they were most likely attending a rather extravagant party. Blaine felt his stomach sinking with dread.

He hated parties and large social gatherings.

While he had been to gatherings in the past, they were family gatherings. Even then, Blaine always felt out of place. Each time he went to these gatherings, it was guaranteed that he would get a scolding from his parents afterwards about how he could've done better and presented himself better. Social gatherings reminded Blaine of his failure in life.

In this case, social gatherings in the Capitol would probably be twice as bad, considering Blaine knew no one there and hadn't the slightest clue how to act. Plus, unlike the meager affairs in his District, this would be on a much grander scale. It would be like throwing a lamb into the lion's den.

"Come on." Sebastian gestured for Blaine to step out first. "Let's get this over and done with."

Into the lion's den I go, maybe they'll slaughter me and end all this.

Parties within the Capitol, Blaine decided, were things that nightmares were made of. Aside from the seizure-inducing flashes of lights that seemed to blink away endlessly, the exaggerated wardrobes worn by the party attendees, and the ghoulish features some of these attendees spotted as a result of their plastic surgeries were enough to give Blaine a headache. It was as though Blaine was in a never-ending freak show with no exit signs.

Sebastian was introducing him to various people in the parties, but it was hard to keep track of them what with their ridiculous names and titles. Blaine felt like an animal on display. He didn't belong here. He didn't dress like the rest of them, he didn't look like the rest of them, and he certainly did not think like the rest of them.

"President Snow wants to see me." Sebastian gave Blaine a pat on the back. "I'll be right back."

Blaine stared after Sebastian's retreating figure, suddenly feeling vulnerable and exposed. Where was he supposed to go now? Should he go sit in a corner somewhere and avoid everyone? Or was he supposed to stay put and be social?

"Oh, you look familiar. You're that Blaine Anderson from this year's games." A shrill, but nasally, voice cut through the music.

Blaine looked up and saw a couple standing before him. It was very difficult to not stare at the woman's face with morbid fascination. She was a prime example of plastic surgery poster child. Her face had been transformed into something that resembled a cross between a leopard and a fox, decorated with body paint and artistic embroidery that seemed to glow in the dark.

It was terrifying.

"Yes, I am." Being polite was the only way in this situation, although Blaine wondered what they could possibly talk about when there surely would be nothing in common amongst them.

"I'm Galileo and this is my wife Venus." The man shook Blaine's hand. Blaine had to resist the urge to pull his hand away when he felt the scale-like skin next to his; it would appear that this man was a fan of plastic surgeries as well.

"So tell me, Blaine, what was it like to be in the Hunger Games?" Venus rubbed her hands together in excitement and flashed Blaine what she perceived to be a charming grin.

"I—uh."

"You had to kill that kid from District 1, didn't you? What's his name again?" Galileo frowned as he tried to remember. "I swear, after a while they all seem the same."

"Dave, Dave Karofsky. That's his name, honey." Venus seemed proud of her memory. "Oh, yes. The camera angle was all off, we couldn't see much. I want all the juicy details, dearie."

Blood, so much blood. Blood gushing out of the wound, over the blade and onto his hands. The look in Dave's eyes as he stared at Blaine in disbelief, shock, and disgust. The look on Dave's face as it contorted into expression of anger, pain and finally death.

Blaine tried to push the memories away.

"If I remember correctly, I think that kid came at him with a machete." Another voice rang out from behind Blaine. Apparently others had noticed that the most recent Hunger Game victor was amongst their midst. "I agree, the camera angle was shit. We didn't get to see all the blood gushing out."

It was becoming hard for Blaine to breath.

"My cousin works at the medical examiner's office for the Game." A fourth voice cut through the chatter. "He said Blaine got him good. Like one slash in the stomach. Like, intestines falling out and stuff."

"Oh, that's wonderful." Venus's voice piped up again. "Honey, are you okay? You're looking a little pale."

"I think our victor just needs a drink." Galileo snapped his fingers at a waiter. "Bring our victor a Whiskey!"

A drink was shoved in front of Blaine's face and he had no choice but to drink it, grimacing at the burning liquid as it went down his throat.

"Now, son." A heavy hand clamped down on Blaine's shoulder. "We want the details."

Blaine knew he was being followed but whenever he looked behind him, he could never see anyone. It was down to Dave and him now. Blaine didn't want to die, but he didn't want to kill anyone either. If only there was some way to do this, perhaps he could continue hiding and hope that he outlasts his opponent. Blaine's hand reached inside his backpack, feeling the leather sheath that held his knife.

He wasn't sure what made him turn around, but he did. Just in time to see Dave coming at him with a large machete. The Career had a crazed look in his eyes and he looked worse for wear. Kurt must had put up quite a fight if Dave looked this beaten. Nonetheless, the Career was fast and strong. Blaine tripped over his own feet as he tried to get out of the way and avoid the machete that was aiming for his throat.

Dave crashed into him and they went down together onto the burning desert sand.

It became a battle of strength, one that Blaine was quickly losing. The machete was out of Dave's reach so he settled for closing his fingers around Blaine's throat, trying to suffocate him. Blaine fought with all his might, kicking, clawing, anything that he could do to pry those fingers away from his throat. Dave gave a pained grunt when Blaine managed to knee him in the groin. He rolled away from Dave, coughing and gasping for air. Out of the corner of his eye, Blaine saw Dave scrambling and reaching for his machete.

Dave lunged at Blaine, the machete raising high in the air, ready to strike down. No, he couldn't die yet. Blaine Anderson couldn't die; he needed to live, to keep going. He needed to go home. Blaine felt his hand closed around a metal handle and he pulled the knife out of his backpack and slashed blindly. Anything to deter Dave, to incapacitate him and slow him down so that Blaine could escape.

He hadn't meant to kill Dave. He didn't even realize his knife had made its mark until he felt the warm liquid pouring over his hand.

Blaine Anderson was a murderer.

"I—I'm sorry, I don't remember." Blaine shook his head. He couldn't deal with this right now.

"Don't be such a spoil sport." One of the people in the crowd nudged at him, Blaine flinched. "You killed the Career, how can you not remember?"

"The camera angle was appalling, but we did get to see his hands covered in blood." Venus pointed out, wanting to be in the center of attention again. "That was a marvelous sight, wasn't it? It was really artistic."

Blaine was going to be sick.

"What do you think of that kid from District 11? I think Kurt's his name." An unfamiliar voice asked him. "I have to say that after his cute little interview, I really thought you two would be-," he waggled his brows "-forming an alliance." The crowd laughed and Blaine's face grew hot.

Kurt, the kind boy who didn't want to be in the Hunger Game; Kurt, the boy with whom Blaine had made a pact to not kill anyone during the Game. A pact that Blaine had broken.

"Do you know how that poor boy died?"

Blaine knew how Kurt died, he learned all about it during the Victory Tour. He wanted to remember Kurt as the smiling, friendly person that he was.

"I think that Dave kid slit his throat." There were murmurs of agreement. "But that was the best battle in the entire game. We didn't think Kurt had it in him to put up that kind of a fight."

It was becoming difficult to breath. It was like the entire room was folding and closing in. It was smothering him. He had to get out of here.

"I think he's looking a little blue." Blaine heard someone said. He wasn't sure when had a small crowd gathered around him, but this was his worst nightmare coming true. To force him to relive the worst moments of the Game, and to be questioned and stared at like an animal. "It's a bit ridiculous considering this kid survived the Game."

"I want all the gory details!" Venus was sounding agitated. "Can't you at least tell us how it feels to have blood on your hands?"

Pulsating, crimson blood. Dave's accusing eyes as life slowly left him.

"I—I can't." Blaine choked out. "I'm sorry. Excuse me!"

Blaine backed away from the crowd and ran. He wasn't sure where he was going; he just needed to get away from all those people right now. He couldn't handle this. This was so much worse than his family gatherings; this was him being cross-examined for his loss of humanity. This was Blaine Anderson being labeled as a murderer.

Blaine threw the door to one of the rooms open and slammed it shut behind him. He stumbled and collapsed onto one of the sofas, panting and gasping for air. The room was spinning around him, nothing made sense to him. He just wanted all this to end. Blaine buried his face in his hands, hating every moment of this. He would rather be in Sebastian's bed and let the man do whatever he wanted with him than to face ithis/i.

Blaine heard the door opening and closing beside him. He looked up warily and saw a familiar figure standing by the door.

Sebastian Smythe.

"What the hell happened out there?"

"I—I don't –"

"You caused a bit of a commotion outside." The frustration was evident in Sebastian's voice. "I expect you to know how to handle yourself properly in these functions. Why bother coming if you can't even do this one simple thing?"

"It was your idea to come." Blaine's eyes widened in surprise when he realized what he had said aloud.

"Do you think I enjoy these functions?" Blaine could tell Sebastian was holding his temper in check. "I'm only here because having a network of allies is what will get you places. It applies to me and it applies to you."

If Allies were those twisted people like Galileo and Venus, Blaine would rather have no friends.

"Your behavior tonight cost me several business deals." Sebastian was approaching him; Blaine did not want to know what would happen next. "I had expected that someone with your background should know how to conduct yourself in these functions."

"Maybe you should get your refund then." Blaine hated how his voice would waver when he was on the edge of tears.

"What did you say?"

"I can't. I just can't." Blaine couldn't stop his body from trembling. "They kept wanting to find out about the Game. They wanted to know how I killed Dave. I—I can't!"

"They wanted to know how you killed Dave?" Sebastian echoed, a trace of disbelief and shock in his voice.

"There was so much blood. He wouldn't stop bleeding." It was getting difficult to breathe again. "His eyes. Oh god, his eyes. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to kill him, I didn't- "

Blaine suddenly found himself in Sebastian's embrace.

"It's okay, it's okay," Sebastian murmured as he placed gentle kisses on Blaine's face and lips. "I didn't know."

"I didn't mean to run away. I just- " The rest of Blaine's sentence was cut off as Sebastian kissed him, deeply and gently.

Sebastian continued to kiss him as Blaine was lowered onto the sofa. Sebastian settled on top of Blaine before he resumed kissing. Blaine felt Sebastian's hands on his groin to work the button of his pants open and pull down the zipper. He gasped when Sebastian's hand reached inside and wrapped around his cock.

In spite of his distraught state, Blaine found himself getting hard again. His hands clutches onto the fabric of Sebastian's shirt as Blaine tried to stay still. It was difficult to ignore the sensations that were now coursing through his body.

Blaine knew he should feel ashamed for what was happening, but it felt too good. And after that horrifying ordeal earlier, Blaine just wanted to forget everything. If this was a distraction from all those memories, then for the time being Blaine would allow himself this one small reprieve and let himself wallowed in the shame later.

Sebastian moved his hand up and down Blaine's cock, stroking him with a gentle but firm grip. Blaine gasped into Sebastian's mouth when Sebastian brushed his thumb over the slit, smearing the pre cum over the head of his cock. Blaine couldn't help but buck his hips up at the sensation, wanting to push himself into that tight grip; and immediately cursing himself inwardly for being so wanton.

Sebastian didn't seem to mind. His hand continued its movement as he kissed Blaine's throat, sucking hard at the pulse point and leaving marks. The events that Blaine had experienced in the past twenty-four hours told him that tautness and building coil of heat in his stomach meant that he was getting close to climax. A whimper escaped from his lips as Sebastian tightened his grip a little and picked up the pace of his strokes. When Sebastian brushed his thumb over the slit a second time, Blaine's body arched up of its own volition as he came with a moan. In the midst of his post-orgasm haze, Blaine thought he felt Sebastian shuddering above him.

The room was silent saved for the sound of heavy breathing as they tried to catch their breaths. Finally, Sebastian leaned up to place a kiss on Blaine's lips before tugging him back in.

"Let's get out of here." Sebastian got up and pulled on his coat. Blaine's face heated up in embarrassment when he realized Sebastian was trying to cover up the cum stain. "Blaine."

"I'm sorry?"

"You need to stop apologizing." Sebastian pulled Blaine up gently. "Let's go back."

"What about them?" Blaine had anticipated that he would be expected to go back out to the hyenas and apologize for his behavior before entertaining them with tales of Dave's bloody death. The very thought made his stomach turn.

"Them?" Sebastian smiled, but it held no warmth. "They can go fuck themselves."

(TBC)