"-gaaAAAHHH!"
Blaine wakes up sweaty and clinging to his pillow for support. His body feels too alert and vulnerable for his environment, and out of the corner of his eye he watches a blur of tanned skin fly straight into the ground with a loud THUMP. Recognizing what's going on he takes three even breathes.
In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
I'm in my room.
I'm fine and I'm in my room.
His heart is racing at the surprise of additional movement and sound, but he calms down a little when he hears who is cursing and moving around on the floor.
"-Just fucking bought this stuff-"
"Sebastian?" Blaine's bundled tight in his covers, and is peering over the frame of his bed. The question is not expected, so Sebastian jumps at the sound of his voice and smacks his head directly on Blaine's bedpost.
"Ow!"
Blaine's thinking this is a strange way to wake up, and when he makes eye contact with Sebastian- who's mumbling about concussions and body wash- he realizes he's not the only one who woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.
His roommate is wearing thin pajama pants, slung low on his waist, and from where Blaine's sitting he can see the damp fabric clinging to his hips. His hair is still wet, probably from the shower he's just come back from, and after looking at the clock Blaine assesses that it's roughly 6:30 in the morning.
He just wants one night of peace. It's looking like he'll never get it.
"-ho needs an alarm clock when they've got Jillian freaking Michaels over here, Christ-"
The smell of fresh pine and cinnamon invades his senses all at once. It reminds Blaine of Christmas, so he shuffles closer to the edge of his bed and watches the thin figure scoop handfuls of blue slime off of the floor.
Blaine's mind is catching up to speed with the situation, but he's too tired to deal with it. He lays back down ignoring what's bound to be a stain and blocks out the insults traversing from the semi-stranger's mouth.
When Sebastian finally stands he doesn't look happy.
"Are you okay?" Blaine asks, cracking open his eyes to assess his accidental damage. He shifts his body to uncomfortably pull out the French book from underneath his back, but doesn't gesture to give it back. Instead he tries to figure out when he fell asleep last night.
Sebastian stops rubbing his head and speaks very seriously.
"This," the other holds up a cracked container, "is your fault." Sebastian's frown is supposed to be accusatory, but it's more humorous than anything and Blaine raises an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"You scared the shit out of me, Blaine!" he shouts, causing Blaine to flinch from the strength of his voice. Sebastian's obviously not a morning person, and the bags under his eyes tell Blaine his insults aren't personal.
Still, Blaine thinks, he's just had a nightmare and yelling at him for something he can't control isn't the best way to remedy the situation. "I just bought this yesterday, and now it's all over the floor!" Sebastian pouts, tossing the half empty container into the nearest wastebasket.
"I'll buy you a new one," Blaine says apologetically, "I'm sorry."
"Not good enough."
"I- I don't-"
He feels like he's negotiating with a three year old, and because today is requiring so much energy already, all Blaine wants to do is fall back asleep. Sebastian must be tired too, because he half gives up on their qualm, sinking back onto his bed and spreading his arms across the covers.
There's still a little bit of unspoken tension between them from the night before, and much to Blaine's surprise Sebastian's the first to apologize. "Sorry. I'm Sorry… I didn't get a lot of sleep last night." The other rubs his face and inhales deeply.
"…Tell me about it." Blaine remarks, referencing his constant state of anxiety-ridden sleep. Sarcasm is something Blaine has been working on bringing back into his life, and he feels a surge of satisfaction that he's using it to develop a friendship.
But when Sebastian jumps into his stream of consciousness, Blaine loses that confidence. "Dane invited me over after you passed out, and I think I'm in love. Blaine he's like, the man of my dreams." Sebastian, still spread out over his bed, grins with his eyes closed, "I swear to God, his mouth! He practically jumped me when I walked in the... door- ohh.." he slows down, quietly realizing what Blaine had actually meant, "-hh shit. My bad."
"…Blaine?"
Blaine blinks.
He has a smile plastered on his face, but maybe it's not convincing enough because Sebastian's sitting upright now, adjusting his bottoms, and he looks concerned. "Sure. Yeah." Blaine mumbles, but it doesn't fit in with the conversation, and his insides are swirling around furiously trying to find reason for all this to be okay.
He hates that his body does this.
Blaine wants nothing more than to live the life he had before he was ruined, but every crude mention of sex crosses his boundaries, and all these new surroundings have sharpened his edges.
Why did Sebastian want to be used like that? Why did he use other people? Blaine didn't want to be used when they took his- but he didn't deserve what he got. Did Sebastian? No, Blaine thinks, no one deserves that.
Maybe Sebastian doesn't think sex is a big deal? Blaine feels phantom hands grabbing at his body. No. He was stupid for leaving Kurt at the bar. No! His father was right. Being gay was wrong and-
"One sec, okay? Give me one sec. Sebastian, vous etes stupide!" Sebastian scrambles out of bed in a flurry, and Blaine's not sure how much time has passed but soon enough he's joined cautiously at his bedside by another body.
Blaine curls himself tighter into his covers. He feels like the three year old now, and what makes it worse is that Sebastian has no idea why he's reacting the way he is. It's the last thing Blaine wants to explain to his roommate of so little time, and the embarrassment is hindering any ability to speak. Finally, the smell of Sebastian's body wash wafting from the carpet grabs Blaine's attention.
"Sorry… I don't know why- Sorry."
Blaine shakes his head again, and avoids the green reading into him. He reminds himself that Sebastian means no harm, that he'd just misinterpreted a silly attempt at sarcasm. That's all this is, Blaine thinks. Sebastian reaches out to touch his shoulder, but second-guesses, redirecting his hand to grab the textbook instead.
"Ooookay. Well." He stands, slapping his knees in the process, "We'll just pretend this…" he gestures around the room, "never happened." There's a thoughtful pause and then he continues quickly, "Except for the stain. That's still your fault… You can enjoy getting off to my smell for the rest of the semester, " he winks apprehensively, trying to conceal the awkward tension between them. "Sound good?"
Blaine shifts a little and decides to spare a laugh for the other's sake. It calms Sebastian down a little, but Blaine can tell it isn't enough. Talk about role reversal. Sebastian doesn't strike Blaine as the kind of person who needs comforting, or any kind of approval-and perhaps he isn't- but he starts rambling and Blaine wonders if he was wrong.
"-Not good at cleaning, that's what maids are for, so you'll have to deal with it but put something over it because the last thing I want is to bring a guy over here and there's a mystery stain-"
Blaine's surprised Sebastian can still breathe, and when he finally finishes his tirade he stops abruptly to look at Blaine, pink spreading up from his neck to his ears.
Blaine's able to give him another reassuring smile, so the other tosses his French book on his bed, grabs his lacrosse bag, and backs out towards the door. When had he gotten dressed?
"So. Right. See you, uh, later."
He's not exactly sure what just happened, but Sebastian looks frustrated with himself as he leaves the room. Blaine hears him mutter, "Stupide!" again before the door softly clicks and he's alone inhaling the scent of Christmas.
Great.
Leave it to Dalton to pair him with the strangest person on campus.
Could've been Puck, Blaine thinks as he rolls over and has a second go with sleep.
It's a weekend, so Blaine doesn't leave his room until he needs sustenance. He doesn't feel like facing classmates today so he avoids the cafeteria. He chooses his lunch wisely, settling on a bag of Doritos and bottled water from the vending machine down the hallway. He's trailing his fingers along the cool surface of the wall when he sees Sebastian leaning against their doorframe, sun kissed and sweaty from his lacrosse practice.
He looks agitated and is holding his phone tight against his ear.
"Yeah, no dad, I haven't- yes. I know. I know, okay? I said I wouldn't. I haven't- Christ- Why don't you come down here and check then if you don't believe me? Sorry, no, I didn't mean- ugh! No, I just meant that I'm not a babysi- what? I haven't- Fine. Yeah, yeah… Not like it's anything new. Yeah, whatever, bye."
Sebastian hangs up and brings a hand to his head as if he's trying to squeeze away the conversation. Blaine feels weird watching him so he approaches with his Doritos and strikes up a conversation. He ignores the way Sebastian's shirt sticks to his shoulders.
"Hey."
Blaine barely speaks over a whisper. He'd just remembered Kurt. That happens a lot around his roommate, and forgetting about the phone call he tries again to deal with all his unresolved memories.
"Please tell me you didn't just hear that?"
Sebastian wipes the hair from his eyes, and straightens out his shirt. He's dripping sweat from practice, and his blue jersey and red numbered double zero are darkened from the moisture. They're close enough that Blaine can smell Sebastian's natural scent. It's much different than Christmas, he notes, but it's definitely him.
Blaine's stomach flips. What is he even doing? It's barely been over a month since the attack and as far as he's concerned he'll never be a worthwhile investment. Why would anyone want someone damaged like him? Not that he wants Sebastian- they're just friends- it's that Blaine doesn't want to be a forgettable sleepover- he doesn't want to be worn as a second-hand toy. Used like a ragdoll and lost the dregs of someone's memory.
Blaine looks at his feet.
Like those men did.
He scratches the back of his neck, and continues looking at the ground ignoring Sebastian's look of concern.
"Um, the end part." He fidgets, looking down at his water as if the label suddenly interests him, "What were you guys fighting about?"
"My dad has a tendency to doubt what people are capable of." There's a double meaning, but Blaine doesn't have the strength to pry. He's caught up in memories of Kurt and violence, clawing his way back to the present from within.
"Oh."
"He thinks everyone's just one click away from losing their shit and pulling a Britney Spears."
Blaine imagines himself cutting off all of his curls. Tear streaked and desperate for change. It's absurd, and he hopes he never reaches rock bottom like that. Maybe he already has though, and losing the gel was his way of shaving his head.
You're fine. You're fine. You're fine.
He shakes away the doubts, and refocuses on the present. His chest feels tight, and his hands get a little shaky. "Why's-" He swallows, "Why's that?"
"He's a cop." Sebastian says bluntly, pocketing his phone.
Blaine looks up, crossing his arms, "Makes sense."
Blaine still remembers the last cop he spoketo. The pictures they took, the examinations, the tests… Lima's police station feels continents away now, and he doesn't ever want to go back. He'll have to eventually, to identify his assailants. Blaine knows that, but he doesn't want to think about it anymore. He's found a new home, a place to be free from the bad, and he keeps dirtying it by remembering these- these horrible things.
Dalton's supposed to make him better.
He's wearing the blazer; he's met his classmates. He's met Sebastian too. Shouldn't that be enough? Isn't all of this enough to help him forget? Apparently not.
Sebastian picks up that Blaine's mind is elsewhere. He opens their door dramatically, mocking a gentleman, and gestures for the shorter to enter. "After you, prince charming." His distraction works, and Blaine's smiling again.
"Better watch out." Blaine teases, avoiding his feelings, "You're dad is right! I might go a-wall and break your lacrosse stick while you sleep!" Sebastian feigns concern, and Blaine looks up at him quietly.
Then he shouts, "Boo!" Blaine raises his arms and crooks his fingers out in odd angles as he passes while reaching for Sebastian's bag.
The other cracks up and swats him away, wearing a childlike smile, the one that reminds Blaine of Kurt's. Sebastian picks up his bag and runs through the door after Blaine. Replying too late, "Stop it!"
Blaine's glad the tension is gone, and he pops open his Doritos while Sebastian plays with his computer. He can make this work, he thinks. Don't be the victim. Dalton is your home. That old feeling is back- and again he ignores it- but that warm swirl in the pit of his stomach is calling to him, and Blaine knows it will win out eventually.
He's just not ready to let it yet.