Boxing. Is. Awesome.
It's everything and more than Blaine could have asked for if he prayed to a higher god. It's immaculate. His body has become this toned fortress, and it's easier to catch his breath. He's more certain. He stands a little taller now, shoulders back, eyes confident, with a spring in his step.
Blaine Anderson ready to kick that storms ass.
He's genuinely happy for the first time in ages. Boxing has become his liberation. With every punch it's like he's shooting out invisible balls of negativity that seep and disappear into that vast black bag. Sometimes he pictures those strangers. Sometimes he pictures himself. He feels most guilty when he pictures Kurt.
He knows he shouldn't be upset with him, but why didn't Kurt try? He could have driven over and checked in, sent an e-mail, something. His parents must have pulled something horrible to make Kurt forget so easily. Blaine pictures himself with a tattoo on his forehead. It reads, 'undistinguished.' When he remembers Kurt he feels invisible.
So Blaine punches.
He thinks of those smooth pink lips. Punch. He thinks of those wide blinking eyes. Punch. He remembers "I love you's" and holding hands and- PUNCH. Punch. PUNCH!
He leaves Dalton's gym every night sweaty and exhausted, to tired to dwell on the past and excited for whatever tomorrow's workout brings. He's looking forward to things again. If that's not progress, then Blaine doesn't know what is.
He's most proud of his progress with sleep. He hasn't been waking up screaming lately, something he knows Sebastian is grateful for, although the nightmares still come and go. (It's a definite improvement from where he was in December.)
He just feels so much better, and who would have thought its origins would lye in tandem with Puck's interests?
Puckzilla!
That makes him laugh. Blaine remembers the first time they'd met, how he almost cried when his mohawk first stepped into view. It's wonderful what time does for old wounds.
Blaine tries to think of a better future, of something bright and peaceful, but he knows the attack will be an eternal black spot. Maybe he can smudge it out a bit? Reduce it to a shadow instead of the monster that's been growing inside of him.
March has arrived, and Blaine's been busy crafting his new hobby. He was right about Sebastian. They neglect each other all the time now; mainly because Sebastian's playing first-string lacrosse, and Blaine's playing with his punching bag.
Blaine doesn't know what he'd being doing if he hadn't found an outlet for his thoughts. Probably go crazy. He jokes about it, but inside he still has that fear. Those 'what ifs' he throws into the wind, unable to acknowledge incase his worries are just.
He slicks up his sleeves as he leaves the gym, his heart still racing with the thought of punching an imaginary stranger. His form isn't to bad, but tomorrow he plans on really focusing where his feet are. You have to be quick if you want to have a successful defense.
Puck shared that wisdom with him, along with a lung-deflating trip that knocked Blaine directly on his back. For a second he almost triggered a scream, but he caught it, thankfully remembering where he was.
"I'll have a medium drip, please."
He flashes a smile for the barista and slips a one-dollar bill into their tip jar. Coffee, Blaine thinks, liquid gold. Once it arrives he pops the lid back on and hopes he threw in enough cinnamon. He's desperate to feel the rush of energy hit his lips.
The past couple weeks have been exhausting, what with him straightening out his life, punching bag included, and today's Warbler catch up is going to be long.
Blaine crosses his arms and places his head in the crooks of his elbows, ignoring the stench that's still lingering from his workout. Come on caffeine! Hurry up. As he waits for his coffee to fill in the cracks, his phone buzzes loudly on the table.
To Blaine: Where have you been?
He debates not answering for a moment. He and Sebastian don't text very often, and his words more often than not tend to get stuck in his throat. After minutes of deciding what to say/do he sticks with his gut and brings attention to their mutual distance.
To Sebastian: Hey stranger
As soon as he sends it two more pop up in his inbox.
To Blaine: Cause I never see you 'round
To Blaine: Are you hiding from me?
Before Blaine can fully grasp that 'Rihanna' is serenading him via text message, he hits reply with an overzealous toothy grin.
To Sebastian: Clever.
To Sebastian: I'm in the caf getting some coffee!
To Blaine: Sounds like you don't need it.
To Sebastian: Sounds like you do
"Mind if I join you?"
It's the second time he's heard a variation of that phrase, and he has a close call with a coffee soaked phone when he looks up and spots Sebastian, cellular device clutched in his palm, watching him with amusement.
Sebastian swallows as he looks down at Blaine. He scans him from head to toe, up and down, and then takes a seat across from him neatly folding an ankle across his knee.
"Bas?" Blaine says dumbly, trying to play catch up with his brain.
"You've been avoiding me." Sebastian says coolly, scanning Blaine's face for answers. Blaine wipes his mouth on the skin of his wrist; self conscious of smudges from the way green keeps flickering there.
"Have not." Blaine says in mock earnest. "We both have crazy schedules right now."
"Oh please. OJ is a better liar than you."
He tries not to break his mask, but it's to funny. Blaine laughs and brings a hand to his forehead, like it will hide his obvious delight in Sebastian's comment. They laugh together, and when Blaine pulls his hand away Sebastian's expression gets serious.
For some reason, his roommate's expression warrants an excuse. "I've been busy." It's the best he can do, considering spontaneity isn't his strongest suit.
A receives a docile nod. "Doing what?" Sebastian's taunting him; he knows Blaine's taken up a new past time.
Blaine sits back in his chair and studies Sebastian, considering. His voice turns silly, "Avoiding you." He notices how easy it is to forget with Sebastian. Almost to easy, but little things will bring him back to the present, like Puck's comment weeks prior.
Blaine notices they're sitting in the exact same spot. He taps his feet under the table to distract himself. As if anticipating his daydream, he hears Sebastian's smile when he says, "Sounds fun."
"Do you think they would notice if I didn't show up tonight?" Blaine attempts another sip of his coffee, but he knows it's a worthless effort. His muscles are aching for a shower, and a pillow-comforter combination would be equivalent to heaven right now.
"Probably," the other snorts, "considering they've been planning all month for it."
Something clicks, easily reflected in Blaine's expression. "I forgot." He winces, "Tonight's that boogie thing isn't it?"
"Christ, Blaine," Sebastian hums, low and sweet, "The Bougie."
"Hmph. Sounds fun." He plays in return.
"Yeah well, you'll see it first hand. Looks like you could use a nap, though." Sebastian gets up and retrieves his bag; suddenly thoughtful he opens his mouth to talk but decides against it.
"What?" Blaine pries, noticing the hesitation.
"Nothing. I've, uh, I'm going over Dane's before hand so you can have the room to yourself. You'll be okay?"
He pretends not to feel the drop in his chest at the mention of Dane, and for a second he thinks Sebastian is asking him if he's okay with their relationship. Before he says anything embarrassing he realizes Sebastian's talking about the nightmares.
"Yes mom." Puck was unquestionably wrong. "I guess I'll see you tonight then. Are you taking my advice and inviting him to the party?" Blaine figures that by mentioning Dane the awkward tension in the air will settle, but it doesn't.
Sebastian frowns a little. "I don't know, he's not an introduce-to-your-friends kind of guy. That's why I'm going over now."
They lock eyes, both unsure of how to continue. "Hm."
"Well. See you later then?" Blaine nods enthusiastically as Sebastian walks away, and decides it's time for that nap.
When he gets back he peels off his clothes, steps into a scalding hot shower, and falls sound asleep within seconds of hitting the mattress.
Blaine feels… bouncy? Yeah. Bouncy. Like he doesn't have a single care in the world. Heck, he doesn't have a single care in the world thanks to those jell-o shots he just sucked down. He'd had- he'd had, uh- well… lots of them he supposes.
They were so tasty! Nothing like what he and Kurt had drank at Scandals. Oops. That stuff is not coming up tonight. Blaine doesn't want it to. He wants to celebrate the Warblers' failure the Warbler way, and that does not involve bad memories. He stops his thinking to zone in on the bass pumping through speakers around him.
I party lock a rock star
Look like a movie star
Play like an all star
Fuck like a porn star
He bobs his head absentmindedly while he takes a sip of whatever Puck recently handed him. "This is so much fun!" He accidentally shouts, making his friend jump.
"Told you, bro. It's fuckin' wild!" Puck pulls him in for a side hug and Blaine's drunk enough to snuggle into his side, beaming as Puck ruffles his hair. "Having fun, Blaine?" Puck lets Blaine go, causing Blaine to shuffle back against a couch for support.
"Yes! So much!" He raises his arm and they clink glasses, missing awkwardly from skewed depth perception. Blaine spots Sebastian eyeing him from across the room so he raises his chin and smiles triumphantly. A silent glint of praise comes from Sebastian's nod, and Blaine feels a rush of fireflies burst through his veins.
He watches Sebastian tilt his head lower to mouth at the rim of his cup. He stares at the way his Adams apple moves welcoming in whatever liquid lives in his hands. Did he just lick his lips? Puck whips around to watch where Blaine had been staring. Before he can comment Sebastian heads their way.
"Gentlemen." Puck jumps on him, squeezing hard enough to make the taller second guess his footing. "How much have you two had to drink? I thought I was bad." He flushes, alcohol obviously taking charge behind his eyes.
Blaine doesn't respond. He just stares. Sebastian's prettier than he remembers him being. In the silence that follows, mouth-hanging open, he sees Puck give Sebastian a knowing look.
Sebastian laughs and pushes him familiarly to the side. His expression goes soft, "You okay, B?" He nods, and Sebastian squeezes him on the shoulder, until something- someone- catches the other's attention from across the room. "You came?"
Blaine spins around to see the mystery person and his chest tightens. Dane is standing there, looking straighter than ever, beautiful and tall. He bites his lip.
Damnit.
The tracks change in the background and Blaine settles himself between Wes and David towards the back of the room. Their girlfriends are there too, but Blaine's not very interested in them.
He's met a lot of girlfriends tonight, but Puck's is his favorite. She's beautiful with smooth skin, and a kind heart. She called him sweetie, and complimented his sweater vest bow-tie ensemble. Wes, David, and Blaine all look on as she works her hips, her short blonde hair swirling around her face. She grinds back into Puck.
Blaine tries not to watch Dane do the same with Sebastian, but it's close to impossible. Both boys look absolutely wrecked. Sebastian's hands are wrapped possessively around the other's waist, and Dane has his head tilted back on Sebastian's shoulder. Both of their hair is sticking up from the strange heat encompassing the room.
Blaine tries to think of a time in his future when he can have that again. He can't picture it. He's driven to find another drink. He doesn't want those thoughts tonight. They trouble him. He finishes off another rum and coke, and makes himself stop caring if Sebastian thinks he's gross or tainted.
He wants to make Sebastian smile like that too.
The tracks change again; the murky glow of the room has started shifting in ways Blaine feels are unreal. Once he stands up he realizes maybe all of this isn't. Maybe he needs another drink to find out if it is.
"M' so drunk." He says to no one in particular. Part of him wants to find his bed and plop down into a deep dreamless sleep, but when he sees Dane wander off to the drink table Blaine's legs begin walking on their own accord, stepping in to take his stupidly fixed place.
Sebastian, surprised by the sudden stumbling ball of curls at his side, mumbles something under his breath. He takes Blaine into a questioning hug, slowly leaning back when Blaine doesn't move under his arms. "B?"
Blaine's lost in his scent. He stares blankly at Sebastian's chest and looks up through long lashes. They make eye contact and the worlds in fast-forward around them. Only, the two of them are slow. Suspended in some fog neither Blaine nor Sebastian can define.
"Sebastian." He manages to get out. His brain keeps short-circuiting, and his body is uncomfortable and full of adrenaline all at once.
It breaks their reserve for a moment, just long enough for Sebastian to lose inhibitions and pull Blaine a little closer. He feels an immediate reaction in his gut; it's screaming at him to pull away because his body is on fire, but Blaine ignores it.
Tonight he wants to melt.
Beat. Beat. Beat.
Blaine's falling, eyes lazily half open, falling- falling- right into Sebastian, and he doesn't feel like fighting to come up for air. He doesn't notice the taller shoot a sympathetic look over his shoulder.
When Sebastian places their foreheads together Blaine whines from their connection. His mouth is suddenly dry and he swallows thickly hoping the saliva will return in time for him to speak. "You're so- you're so tall."
Sebastian, inches from Blaine's mouth, stills. Blaine feels his fingers tighten and grip into his waist, "You like that I'm tall, Blaine?"
Blaine's mind whirls. He feels, upside down. He's never heard Sebastian talk like that before and it- well Blaine feels something else now other than hollowed out rejection- and knowing what it is he's not sure whether to be afraid or let the arousal overtake him. He shouldn't be enjoying this so much. He doesn't deserve it. He moves his head lower, an easier option, and gets lost in the scent again.
Safe.
His heart scrambles in his chest and he nods into Sebastian's left shoulder. Sebastian mumbles something again, "shit," as Blaine starts moving patterns over his neck with his fingers. "Blaine." He croaks. Their bodies are glued together, unmoving, the song is forgotten and their bodies are jostled by others dancing around them.
"Yeah?" Blaine looks up eyes shiny and wide. Sebastian literally drops his mouth, and shivers. Shivers, under Blaine's gaze.
"I-we-"
"Mm, Bas?"
"Can I bring you upstairs?"
Blaine nods and closes his eyes. He feels Sebastian grip his forearm and lead him towards the door. The fast paced walk to their room is completely silent. The moment they step out into the hallways of Dalton, whatever this is feels more real, and Blaine's full of panic. He's in way over his head right now.
He'd told himself, when he rejected this reaction earlier, that the best way to get over the attack was to throw himself out there again. He's not so sure he'd been right. He's not sure if he really wants this.
He tries to picture kissing Kurt, but the thought of Kurt makes him angry. Maybe kissing Sebastian will make him feel different? Puck did say that Sebastian likes him, and even if he can't see it maybe he has to taste it first to find out.
They arrive in their shared space, and Blaine's heart feels like it's about to leap out of his chest. His nerves are out of control, oddly sobering, and he's not sure they should have left now.
"Who let you drink so much?"
Blaine ignores the question. Sebastian walks to him and reaches out, placing his hands gently on Blaine's sides. They stare at one another for a second; a silent conversation and a million little understandings pass between them.
"Seb-"
Blaine gathers all his courage and tests his true feelings. He forces himself closer, leaning up, parting his lips, and- Sebastian moves away. Blaine's not sure if he's frowning or not, and before he can say it himself, Sebastian does.
"I'm afraid."
He almost misses it, because his mind is so fuzzy. Sebastian's not supposed to feel that way. It's then that Blaine understands what Puck was trying to say earlier does push people away, and Blaine's torn between rejection and relief with how to react.
"Why don't you get some sleep?" Something superior overshadows the other's features. Then he says off handedly, "You're kind of killing my buzz."
Blaine stands world spinning and stomach churning. He feels warped like a movie with a surprise ending, or a record that's been scratched.
Hurt flashes in Blaine's eyes, but Sebastian's looking towards the door, dying to escape. "O-oh. I thought." He says tormented, a slip in speech. Blaine's words come out more self-conscious than he had intended to sound. He wants to say how it felt wrong anyways, that his body isn't ready yet, but he tries to be brave. He tries to be strong, like the rejection doesn't matter. "Have fun with Dane."
Sebastian's mouth twitches and his shoulders tense. He doesn't like to be judged negatively and that's exactly what Blaine's insinuating. After all, if the taller can decide it's time for Blaine to go to bed, then Blaine can decide how stupid he's being for throwing himself around like he doesn't matter.
Because he does…
"I will have fun with Dane, thank you. It'll be a nice vacation from dealing with all your crazy bullshit." Blaine witnesses the small snippet of regret, but Sebastian doesn't apologize. He doesn't mean it, surely he couldn't. Sebastian's never that mean to him.
Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's because Sebastian is the one who is saying these things, but Blaine can't help the tears forming in his eyes.
So that's what he thinks of you.
All traces of logic evaporate from Blaine's mind. Had he really thought Sebastian wanted to kiss him? He was just taking him upstairs so that he wouldn't make a fool out of himself at the party.
Humiliation.
Discomfort.
Blaine's furious, and hurt. Mostly hurt. "Why do you make jokes like that? I'm not crazy, I'm-" Defeated.
"Look, Blaine, I'm not going to treat you like a porcelain doll just because you feel like one."
Blaine's blood is boiling. Sebastian had said he wanted to find out who Blaine truly was, and he's completely missed the mark. Blaine doesn't feel weak, he feels better than ever, so to prove his point he gets close.
He's tiptoeing up as high as he can to get in Sebastian's face when he snaps, "I'm sorry I was raped Sebastian! Forgive me for inconveniencing you by trying to get over it! And I feel fine, thank you for asking."
The other's eyes are large and apprehensive before thoughts start forming visibly on his face. Blaine realizes his fists are balled up, and Sebastian eyes them before he takes a step back. "Whatever." He stalks out the door, speaking in French, and slams it behind him.
Blaine hates the smell wafting from his carpet right now. Drinking, he learns in all finality, doesn't suit him very well.
"I hate you." He lowers his face into his pillow. "I hate you!"