He'd agreed to get coffee the second the text request came his way. It'd felt like ages since he'd seen him so he practically raced to the Lima Bean, tugging on a red sweater as he left his house.
Kurt's recounting the New Directions trip to New York with such sincerity, with such maturity and ease, that Blaine is simply getting lost in his words. He's lucky. So lucky to have someone who actually cares enough to talk simple truths with him.
He likes, no, he loves seeing the raw side of this person. The side Kurt's shown to no one but him. Blaine feels special, but a pang of abandonment fills his chest. Huh?
"I love you." Blaine spurts out, one hand under his chin and one resting on the table. He doesn't even kick himself for word vomiting because he's lost in the moment, his eyes trained on Kurt's mouth.
It hurts so much.
Kurt quirks an eyebrow, setting his coffee cup back on the table. There's a pause as he swallows the warmth of his non-fat mocha, "Mmm. I love you too, Sebastian."
Kurt delivers his last line breathless, and smiles at Blaine like he's revealing something dirty. Blaine, confused, looks back at his boyfriend.
"I'm- I'm Blaine!" Doesn't he remember? Doesn't Kurt remember him at all? "This is about us!"
God, it hurts.
Kurt pushes off of Blaine from the backseat of his car. Blaine is embarrassed. He's had too much to drink. He reaches out knowing his arms will remain empty.
"That's right! It's about us! Which is why I don't want to do it on a night you spent half the night dancing with another guy! And that you're sober enough to remember it the next day!"
"Why are you yelling at me?" Blaine rumbles, eyes dark, and suddenly full of rage. Kurt had just called him Sebastian; after all, there was no need to shout! There was no need to cause a scene in the middle of- how'd they get here?
"Because I've never felt less like being intimate with someone, and either you can't tell or you just don't care!"
He does care! Blaine decides to get out of there. He needs air. He needs time to berate himself for ruining the night, for ruining such a good thing. He always does that! He always ruins everything! Blaine starts to walk away, tie undone, and hair disheveled.
"Where are you going?"
Don't let me leave; I'm so sorry I've let you down. I never want to let you down! Instead he scoffs, because part of him is tired of being sorry all the time. Sorry for being gay, sorry for screwing up, sorry for- sorry for living!
Stupid Kurt.
"I'm sorry if I'm trying to be spontaneous and fun!" Kurt says nothing. He crooks up the side of his mouth instead. Blaine gets angry at his reaction. This isn't how it happened. Kurt's expression dares him to leave, he tilts his head and his eyes grow wide, twinkling dangerously.
'Mmm. I love you too, Sebastian.'
"I'm just gonna walk home!" Blaine shouts.
Kurt smiles and breaks into wicked laughter. Stop it! His face distorts and begins morphing into something dark, something scary. Blaine feels the blood quicken in his chest, and adrenaline shoot to his head. His heart is pounding, racing, Kurt's red eyes bore into his, he opens his mouth and his teeth are bloody and sharp.
They're back in the Lima Bean.
Blaine scoots back in his chair at the rapid change in scenery.
"Uh, K-Kurt?"
He holds on tight to his coffee, to tight, and pops the lid off while he scoots away, eyes trained on his boyfriend.
"S-Sebastian, yes. YES." Kurt's pale hands go up to stroke his neck, and press hard emitting a groan. This isn't funny. This was never funny, Kurt, stop it!
Kurt laughs, his voice turning a demonic shade. He stands up, towering over Blaine's body, and Blaine starts to scream as he stumbles back falling onto the floor. When he falls he keeps falling. Kurt's face stares at him while he falls into blackness, while he falls into the rough hands of a stranger.
Rough callused hands scratch at his sides, squeezing, squeezing... "KURT!" he tries to scream, but nothing will come out!
Blaine's eyes open within seconds. His body is tense, oversensitive, he can feel dried streaks of tears on his face, and the sweat on his brow indicates 'nightmare.' His fists are balled tight, a common reaction he has to stress, and he takes a moment to consider his dream. He doesn't want to dwell, though. Dwelling makes it worse. He pushes the dream to the back of his mind, and caps it there for another day. For another time and place.
"Fuck. So good."
Blaine snaps up faster than lightening, and squints into the dark. He tries to figure out when he had fallen asleep, but the voice makes him panic. He's realizes he's still in the lounge when a moan vibrates in his ears. It's followed by small little smacks, licks, wet flesh on wet flesh.
"Taste so good, Sebastian. Got to fuck me. Got to-"
"Sebastian?!"
Crap, had he said that out loud?
The sounds abruptly stop. Blaine hears shallow whispering, and then out of the shadows a figure approaches to find out who's called his name. Blaine sits up straighter, staring into the dark over the back of the couch, and drops his mouth as the boy approaches.
"Blaine? What are you doing here?" His speech is slightly slurred. Sebastian adjusts his pants, and laughs into his free hand. "Did you come for the show? I'd invite you to join, but Dane here's a little possessive of his treats. Well," Sebastian frowns, "when he decides to show up or whatever."
All Blaine can do is focus on how out of element his roommate is. He knows Sebastian does this. It's, his… thing. It's no secret that he fools around sometimes, but Sebastian's very obviously drunk, and still hard through his not so high up sweatpants, and Blaine is shocked that he's in the same room experiencing these antics right now.
He tears his eyes off of Sebastian's body, and stumbles to his feet avoiding eye contact. "Shit, Seb. What the hell?" Blaine rubs at the bridge of his nose, backing up.
"Dane, come meet Blaine!" He says a little louder than necessary, motioning into the black behind him. "Hah, 'rhymes. Look, look," he gestures, "it's Blaine!" Sebastian shuffles a little closer so that Blaine can see his bronze skin light up under the picture of nightfall.
The moon must be close tonight, Blaine thinks, bright, before backing away again, just like in his dream. "Dane! I said c'mere." Sebastian whines, laughing right after like he can't believe it. "Thought you were in the room." He says offhandedly, a little quieter.
A second figure walks out of the dark and crosses his arms across his chest. His half unbuttoned shirt is put on mismatched so that one side hangs lower than the other. Dane, Sebastian's apparent 'date' for the night, is not happy. The two of them must have come here expecting an abandoned room to celebrate their victory.
"Hi." Dane deadpans.
"Uh, hi." Blaine responds sheepishly, not looking back. "I'm. I'm gonna get back to the room. It's late, so." He backs towards the door feeling the awkward crawl through his arms and stomach. He trips over a music stand, cursing as he flies to the ground.
For a second he remembers Sebastian's blur of skin falling after a scream. He shakes it off. Sebastian cracks up and watches, drunk, as Dane tries to steal his attention back. Sebastian squirms in Dane's arms, trying to get closer to Blaine, but Dane holds him back. Kissing. Sucking. Soon he's distracted, and he whirls around to kiss his date back.
As soon as Blaine gets up he marches to the door, throws himself through it, and leans back against the cool marble pillar stationed outside the room.
… And he starts laughing.
It's hysterical and uncontrolled laughter. He knows he is being too loud, but he can't help the sounds escaping his body. A tear slides down his crinkled cheek, and he wipes it away, snorting in an attempt to quiet down. What the hell?
When he's all laughed out, he heads for his room, preparing a million jabs for tomorrow morning- Afternoon? - Night? - Whenever he sees his roommate next.
He puts his hands in his pockets while he thinks about Sebastian reaching towards him; he knows the gesture all to well, and makes his way to their room. He climbs in bed, still shook up from the day's events, and falls asleep inhaling Sebastian's scent.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Mhm. Sure."
"I don't, and I won't any time soon so stop-"
"-Warbler Blaine, Warbler Sebastian! Please stop arguing for a second, and contribute to the conversation at hand!"
Blaine hears the room still from Wes's sudden outburst. Sebastian crosses his arms over his chest, brooding, as Blaine sits comfortably close, smiling at Wes.
Although awkward, Blaine is glad he had the distraction of waking up to that mess. The week is going by quicker now that he's able to take his mind off of Sebastian's father, and he's been replacing his worry with silly little walls.
They're tiny distractions he can use to blunt the pain when hazel finds green, and for that he's thankful.
Now, when he looks at his roommate, he sees surprise and drunken slurs of 'Look, it's Blaine!' It's better than nausea, so he focuses on that night instead of that evening, trying not to register that that evening had been, well, what it had been.
He smiles harder.
"Great, lets continue. David, what do you think?"
"I think we should throw it off campus this year, shake things up."
Murmuring fills the room as Wes pounds his gavel three times on the hardwood table. "Order! David- Order! We can't throw it off campus. It's Warbler tradition that every year it happens here. Why else would it be called 'The Bougie"? He says matter-of-factly.
Laughter erupts in circles around Blaine. He hates to admit it, but he has no idea what they're talking about. Sebastian ends up being too grumpy to explain, probably from lack of sleep, so Puck fills him in.
'The Bougie', he learns, is a Warbler tradition. Every year, around the same time before Nationals come about, the Warblers throw a party. It only happens if they don't make the competition because it requires the remainder of their club budget, and it's apparently very, very, wild.
Puck explains how they make it as high class as possible. They drink the finest champagnes and liquors, and wear tuxedos and ties. Drinking and dancing takes over until their eyes roll back in their heads, and thus- the Warblers bond over their failure to impress the judges, and hope for a better outcome next year.
Blaine doesn't see the appeal. Last time he drank, it ended badly, but he chooses to amuse Puck with questions and 'Oh's to appease him... for the time being at least.
"What about here?" Nick shouts, rising above his friends' voices to get to Wes.
"That. Just might work, actually." Considered their leader.
"There aren't any teachers in this quarter, Puck has the keys, and what's classier than a lounge room? We could spend more money on the booze, and less on decorations."
The room erupts. "Order! Order!" Wes pounds on the hardwood. "All those in favor of throwing The Bougie in here say 'aye.'"
Everyone says "Aye." except Sebastian.
Blaine knows it's because the brunette is tired, so he doesn't nitpick. Instead, he turns to his fellow Warbler and nudges his side, "Should be fun. Maybe you should invite Dane? He likes this room well enough, doesn't he?"
For the briefest of seconds, Sebastian smiles, but just as fast he's back to frowning, "Don't know what you're talking about."
Puck claps Blaine on the back and shares in his laughter. For the first time since he's arrived, Blaine sincerely appreciates his friendship. Blaine claps him back.
The meeting wears on, some of the boys leave to do their homework or gather Intel for their big night, but Sebastian and Blaine stay put, watching the television mindlessly with some of their friends; sitting close enough for their legs to stick.
Puck flips through Dalton's basic cable, and stops on a local news channel. It's good background television, he says, as he recounts last years Bougie when Sebastian had been caught in their dorm room with a handle of goldschlager and two freshmen.
"This year we've got to protect Sebastian's virtue." Puck teases.
Blaine listens intently, trying to picture the golden expression Sebastian must have been sporting when he was caught. "That was a good one," Sebastian interjects. Blaine notes that he must be coming out of his mood, when a beep comes from the television in front of them. Nick hushes them and turns up the report as breaking news blinks across the screen in red.
Blaine almost passes out.
"From Lima to Westerville Ohio, it seems violence against gays remains the quiet but brutal result of life. Annie DeLane is live at Saint Ann's hospital where a vigil may be held later tonight."
Blaine's fists start shaking, so he tucks them under his thighs. Sebastian sucks in a sharp breath as all eyes flick from the television to where they sit on the couch.
"Yes, it's 7 o clock here tonight at Saint Ann's hospital where a man- who's name has yet to be released by local authorities- has been committed and placed in critical condition while his attackers roam free. This appears to be the second homophobic attack in the past two months, leading local authorities to believe it will not be the last." The news reporter, a woman in her thirties with black hair, turns back to look at the hospital lights dramatically. "About an hour ago, this man was brutally beaten, forced victim of a hate crime," she paused to stare into the camera lense, "and left for dead. With me is Carrie Highland, Carrie?"
"Hello, Annie-"
The two women expand the story; essentially describing the same thing Blaine had gone through, only revealing this man- still unnamed- had the word 'Fag' carved into his forehead with a hunting knife.
They must be perfecting their techniques, Blaine thinks, before his train of thought is broken by Sebastian's shaky voice. "Turn it off." He demands bluntly. When no one moves he stands up angrily, and shuts it off himself.
It gets uncomfortably quiet, and the taller comes back and sits next to Blaine. They exchange a look; Sebastian looks scared for a moment and then gains his composure. He and Blaine are the only two homosexual students in the room, and none of their friends can seem to find words for them.
"Jesus." Says Wes.
"-Fucked up." Mentions David.
Soon, the Warblers find themselves hostage to political conversations about progressive movements and human rights. Puck shares valuable viewpoints about ignorance and where tolerance comes from, it's the first time Blaine's heard Puck sound so serious, and Sebastian nods his head in approval at the sudden intellect.
Blaine's been quiet this whole time, so when eyes start to wonder his way, expecting an opinion, he feels how he did at orientation. He has nothing to say, except that he's terrified. Terrified of them coming for him, terrified of someone finding out what they did- how they ruined his life. He can't possibly have an opinion that's worth sharing.
Blaine digs deep, searching for a line of comfort or understanding. He chokes on his fears, clearing his throat. In that moment he is full of dizzying rage. This shouldn't have happened again! How could the police let this happen?
Why couldn't they find those men? Blaine grits his teeth, and contributes to the conversation. He hisses, "You think it'd be easy for them to find a guy with a tattoo covering half his face!"
Everyone goes silent.
Blaine, realizing what he's said, holds his breath. He looks around frantically for any sign that the report actually mentioned that confidential information. He doesn't find any. No, you idiot! No!
"Dude, I don't think they said anything about that." Puck contorts his face trying to understand, when Sebastian steps in. Blaine's fighting back tears, trying to think of ways he can leave without them noticing his screw up. He looks to the floor, completely embracing his self-hatred. He's dirty. Disgusting. Now everyone will know how worthless he is. No.
"That was something else, B." Blaine notes the gentle nickname, and glances up. "From a different story, I think." Sebastian pauses, gathering composure as the Warblers look to him for reassurance.
"O-oh. Right." He responds.
"Yeah, yeah that armed robbery one we saw yesterday. Remember?"
Sebastian flashes him green, and Blaine takes a deep breath, reveling in the comfort that comes from within.
"Right." He shakes his head and smiles, acting like he's made a small mistake. "Sorry, I guess I mixed them up. That's. That's uh, god. I can't believe someone would do this is all. You're right David, it's- it's messed up."
With the conversation saved, Blaine excuses himself and staggers out into the hallway. He feels like his knees are about to give out and like his stomach will explode at the same time.
He's so disoriented with internal dispute that he cant remember where the bathrooms are, and so he leans up against the same marble pillar he did days prior, closing his eyes to try and calm himself down, and will himself not to throw up.
They're free. Those men are free, and they're going to find him. Blaine's breath hitches as he realizes he's probably going to die. He was never going to live. Maybe they'd set him free to mess with him. Maybe all of this was a game to them, and all this time they'd been watching him. Waiting for him to slip into routine and smile again so they can take it all away. Just to carve 'fag' in his forehead, and what? Kill him? What else do I have to give?
Blaine feels desperate. He swallows and wipes his forehead clean of sweat. When he feels a small tap behind him he jumps out of his skin, ripping his shoulder from underneath Sebastian's touch. The other steps back as Blaine turns away, face hot, and feeling jittery.
Sebastian had covered for him. He knows he should play nice, but he can't help but question the other's motives. Had Detective Smythe lied? Does Sebastian know? That night, when Blaine had overheard their phone call, was Sebastian implying he wasn't Blaine's babysitter?
The anger funnels back, and winds it's way into Blaine's speech. "Why'd you do that?" He snaps.
"What happened in there? You okay?"
Blaine's not sure how to respond. If he accuses Sebastian and the other truly doesn't know, then he's spoiled himself. He unclenches and clenches his fingers, not knowing what to do. He never knows what to do anymore! He's so- so- stupidly weak.
Blaine slides down the pillar and places his hands in his palms. He begins to tear up. He doesn't quite let himself cry, but he goes numb, not wanting to deal with his life anymore.
"Oh shit. Blaine? Blaine!" Sebastian leans down and lifts him off the floor, throwing an arm around him to help him stand. Blaine doesn't even see where they're going. He barely recognizes that his own arm slips around Sebastian's waist as he's brought back to their dorm room, unaware and mind completely blank.
He's given some bottled water in time, and the two of them remain silent as the nights events settle in. Sebastian sits across from him on the opposite side of the room, and Blaine appreciates the space.
He takes a sip, wipes at his eyes, and stares blankly at Sebastian.
"Hey B," Sebastian's eyes are trained on his chest, stretching and reaching though him searching for answers, "I think it's time we talked about those nightmares."
He knows.
"W-what about them?" Blaine stammers, unsure of what exactly is about to happen.
"I saw it lying on his desk." Sebastian downcasts his eyes, and picks at his fingers. Blaine is a little confused until Sebastian continues. "The report I mean. I- I'm so sorry, Blaine. I should have said something, but-"
Blaine swallows the pressure in his throat. He's getting dizzy just thinking about it.
"You're so strong, you know that?" Sebastian's eyes light up, and he makes sure Blaine is listening before he continues, "My dad doesn't know that I read it. He kept telling me to watch out for you, because you were a transfer and- shit. Stupide, Sebastian." He palms at his forehead trying to find the right words.
"That's why you asked about my transfer, isn't it?"
Those green eyes shine 'Yes.'
"I- My dads always telling me to be careful and that you're new so you need help making friends or whatever- and I knew what he was really saying, Blaine, but- I don't think there's a reason for you to be treated like a delicate flower because."
He rubs at the base of his neck, uncomfortable that Blaine hasn't stopped staring.
"You're- what happened, the- the, uh, attack-" He mutters. Blaine flinches, not liking how it sounds out loud. "It doesn't define who you are. You're still, Blaine. You know? I was just trying to find out who that was." He pauses and stops fiddling with his fingers, "You're so strong." He repeats, a cracked whisper.
"I want to be." Blaine admits, not feeling very worthy of any type of tribute. The warm swirl returns to the pit of his stomach, calling out, pulling at Blaine to tell him this is his chance. He's eerily aware of himself, of Sebastian, of everything in the room. Even the air feels thick as he swallows it down.
"To be what?" Sebastian asks, knowing what Blaine meant.
He exhales, speaking low, eyes shining.
"To be stronger."