Chapter 2
Toeing off his shoes, Blaine sighed wearily and headed for the cookie jar on the counter of their excuse of a kitchen, dropping the money he had earned the night before into it, and noting that neither Santana's nor Brody's take were deposited yet from the previous night. He covered a yawn, and glanced out their windows to note that the sun was already peeking up in the East. Heading towards the ladder leading to his room, he made sure to peer into Brody and Santana's make-shift bedrooms, neither bed disturbed meaning that his roommates hadn't yet returned from their own nights of making money.
As he reached the bottom rung to start his climb, his phone chimed from the kitchen where he had deposited it on the table. The sound pierced the quiet of the room as it went again, and glancing at this watch, he knew Santana would kill him for taking a second client after just finishing with the first, but with the rent and the tuition he had already deferred twice (with a lot of sweet-talking in the Registrar's office) due, he couldn't pass up the opportunity or the income. Bounding across the loft, he snatched up the phone and read the texted details with a smile, seeing it was one of his favorite clients. Slipping back on his shoes, he sent off a confirmation before heading back towards Manhattan on the subway, glad he had stolen a shower at Kurt's before coming home.
"Why if it isn't Blaine Anderson," the doorman greeted with a smile from behind his desk. "Haven't seen you around in a while. Ain't it a bit early for a visit?"
Blaine laughed quietly. "Or really late, Fred," he agreed, passing towards the elevators. "My night hasn't ended yet."
"Youth," Fred shook his head fondly. "Is Mr. Sterling aware of your visit or do I need to call up?"
"Jeff knows I'm coming," Blaine confirmed as the elevator dinged and he boarded. "Have a good day, Fred!" he called before the door slid shut and jetted him up to the fifteenth floor condo.
Knowing that Jeff would have left the door unlocked for his impending arrival, he didn't knock but simply entered the condo, noting with a small smirk that Jeff was drawing frantically at his drafting table. From what he could see, the man was completely disheveled and running on caffeine alone. Sighing to himself, Blaine removed his shoes, and wandered over to the other man. Standing on his tip-toes, he wrapped his arms around Jeff from behind, hooking his chin over the man's shoulder to take in the new building he was designing.
"Rough night, Jeffy?" Blaine inquired, pulling back and placing a small kiss to the back of Jeff's neck. Unlike his encounters with Kurt, Blaine enjoyed his time with Jeff. The other man had a major crush on his best friend from high school, Nicholas Duval, whom Jeff swore was straight (although Blaine, having met Nick, would dispute the claim every time) and Blaine played substitute to Jeff's unrequited love whenever the other man felt lonely.
"Blaine," Jeff breathed, losing his tension from his shoulders while still nestled in Blaine's arms.
"Still haven't told him?" Blaine asked, dropping another kiss to Jeff's neck.
"Blaine," the tone was warning, indicating that Jeff didn't want to discuss his relationship with Nick tonight; he was only seeking comfort.
"Alright," Blaine conceded, letting Jeff turn in his arms and dragging the architect away from the drafting table. "No talk of Nick tonight. I'll just make you feel good and push away your loneliness." Instead of replying, Jeff leaned down and pressed hungry, demanding kisses on the other man.
Blaine sighed happily, and stretched before wincing at the pull in his spine. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" Jeff asked, trailing a hand down Blaine's chest, having caught the wince.
"No," Blaine hummed, his own fingers dancing a light pattern on Jeff's arm. "No more than usual." Unlike Kurt, who always bottomed in their encounters, his time with Jeff was usually more versatile. Today, his client had needed to feel empowered and to have his urge to care for someone sated, meaning that Blaine had basically been at Jeff's mercy for the last two hours.
"Thank you, Blaine," Jeff murmured quietly, and Blaine could see him slowly drifting into sleep. Dropping a kiss to Jeff's forehead, Blaine extracted himself from the other man and headed for the adjacent ensuite to clean up before heading for his own home, knowing he would need to be slightly presentable leaving Jeff's condo building.
Taking a quick shower, and enjoying the water pressure they would never achieve in their own loft apartment, Blaine let the sex drain off of him. Stepping from the shower, he redressed in his party clothes from the night before, collected his money where Jeff had left it by the front table and slipped his shoes on before quietly exiting the apartment. He nodded once to Fred on his way by before heading home for a few hours of sleep then off to his night class at NYU, thankful it took a certain kind of alcohol to give him a hang-over after his night the day before.
"Where have you been?" Santana snarled as he entered their loft and took of his shoes. He had been right, she wasn't happy when she came home to an empty loft, knowing the only reason he would leave was to see another client because he only had a night class today.
Holding up the wad of cash he had made with Jeff as answer, he made his way into the kitchen and deposited the new funds in the cookie jar. Santana pulled herself off the couch and stalked after him into their kitchen. "Blaine, I thought we talked about taking on more than one client a night," she admonished, her tone softening as he turned tired eyes to her. He had all but collapsed in exhaustion on the subway home. Now he just wanted to nap before he had to hit his Intro to Law class in a few hours. He pulled out two Tylenols and downed them without water, knowing he would be feeling his activities later that night otherwise.
"I know, San," he muttered, moving past her towards his ladder. "But rent and the deferral – "
She sighed softly, climbing up after him and settling on the edge of his mattress as he face-planted. "Oh, B," she sighed, rubbing her hand up and down his back. "You worry too much about money. We'll work something out. Brody and I would be more than happy to cover rent – "
"No," he snapped, rolling over and starring up at her. His face softened at her worried look. "I'll do my part like we agreed when I moved in." He pulled her down next to him. "Now cuddle me,"he commanded, wrapping his arms around her and drifting off almost instantly.
Laughing, Santana moved a hair gently from his forehead before laying her head on his shoulder and drifting off herself.
"Goddamn it!" Blaine flew towards the loft door while trying to put on his second shoe, his book bag slung haphazardly over one shoulder, the zipper open. "I'm going to be late."
"Relax, B," Santana commanded, coming over with a travel-mug of coffee. "You'll make it. You only over-slept the alarm by about ten minutes."
Brody made his way over, dressed up. "I'll drop you on my way," he offered as he put on his coat.
"Client?" Santana inquired as she took Blaine's bag from him, allowing Blaine to tie his shoes.
"Yup, Rachel, again," Brody responded, rolling his eyes.
Snorting, Santana handed the much calmer Blaine his backpack and coffee. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "At least we know where all the money she makes goes," she quipped, before gently pushing Blaine towards the to door. She stood on her tip-toes to press a kiss to Brody's cheek.
"Yeah, to paying our rent," the man quipped before he followed his flustered friend from the loft.
"Alright, so last week we covered the Ferguson merger and the impacts it had on the establishment of certain corporate laws," Blaine's professor stated from the lectern at the front of the room. Blaine sighed softly, knowing he was only taking the class in case he decided to pursue the criminal aspect of his psychology degree. "As such, I have a representative from Smythe and Clarington, the law firm which orchestrated the deal, to talk to you about some of the finer details. May I introduce, Sebastian Smythe, the son of the one of the partners in Smythe and Clarington. Mr. Smythe graduated top of his class in pre-law at Columbia before finishing his law degree at Harvard Law."
There was a smattering of applause throughout the lecture hall, as a tall, good-looking man took the podium. Blaine sat up straighter as realization hit, knowing without having to make eye-contact of the intense green of Sebastian's eyes, the almost arrogance in his stance, and the forwardness of the man who had begun to outline the intricacies of the Ferguson case his father and Clarington had orchestrated almost thirty years ago as newly minted lawyers.
When the class finally finished, Blaine having sworn he spent more time gazing at Sebastian than actually taking notes, he packed up his stuff, hoping to stay under the radar of the good-looking man he had met at the bar the night before. Hearing his name, he sighed and turned, taking in the beaming smile Sebastian threw at him as the other man climbed the stairs and came towards Blaine.
"Hi Bas," Blaine said, his own smile coming unbidden to his lips.
"I never took you for the lawyer type," Sebastian admitted, taking in the appearance of the other man without preamble. Unlike the night before where Blaine had been dressed in dark wash skinny jeans which hugged and accentuated his ass, with a v-neck t-shirt in purple, today he was dressed comfortably in jeans and a polo, accenting his strong arms.
Blaine laughed lightly. "I'm not," he admitted, picking up his bag and indicating for Sebastian to follow him. The lawyer smiled and did, his own leather satchel swung over one shoulder. "I'm just seeing if I like the law portion in case I want to go into criminal psychology for my Masters."
Raising an eyebrow, Sebastian studied Blaine more intently. "You couldn't be more than a Sophomore or Junior," he stated. "Why are you already thinking of your Masters?"
Laughing again, Blaine said,."Planning for the future, so I don't have to worry about it when it gets here. Want to get a coffee?"
Sebastian smiled. "I'd like that," he admitted, following the younger man across the campus.
"A drag queen?" Blaine howled with laughter as Sebastian recounted some of his friend Hunter's more colorful encounters at the gay club they had been frequenting.
Sebastian smirked, and settled back into his seat, taking a sip from his coffee. "I can't remember the last time we left the club without running out."
Blaine just shook his head, chuckling lightly and taking his own sip. He glanced at his watch and his eyes widened as the digital display read ten-thirty. "I've got to go," he said sadly, looking over at the other man. "My room-mate is going to freak-out if I'm any later."
Sighing softly, Sebastian nodded, "I understand though I am sorry to see you go." He paused and bit his lip. "Can I give you my number? I'd like to do this again."
Blaine studied him for a minute. "Do you believe in fate?" he asked instead, causing Sebastian to raise an eyebrow in surprise. He nodded slowly. "Good. I'm not going to take your number, Bas, but if we're meant to be, we'll meet again." Blaine paused, taking in Sebastian's surprise. "I don't normally date, Bas," he explained apologetically. "And there's a reason for that but –"
"What about Kurt?" Sebastian demanded, breaking into Blaine's explanation.
Blaine sighed, embarrassed. "Wasn't a date," he murmured quietly, although Sebastian caught the words. From his quick observations from their interactions yesterday, he couldn't really dispute Blaine's claim. "Look, I really really like you, Bas, and I'd like for us to be friends, but these are the circumstances right now and –"
"Alright," Sebastian broke in, not wanting to lose contact with the other man. "We'll play by your rules for now, but if we meet again, you'll have to reconsider the 'no dating' rule."
"Deal," Blaine laughed before getting up from the table and picking up his bag. He darted over and pressed a quick kiss to Sebastian's lips before blushing and scurrying towards the coffee shop door. "See you around, Bas," he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the night.
"Oh, you will," Sebastian promised, still shell-shocked at the tiny kiss. "You're something else, Blaine."