Title: Creeping On A Stranger
Word Count: 7,633
Summary: Seblaine Week 2014: Day 1 (Alternative Meeting). Sebastian has always had a habit of getting in the way and making a nuisance of himself. Since his little sister had gotten sick when he was eleven, he has spent years trying to gain back the attention of his parents.
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with Glee, FOX, Ryan Murphy or anything else related to the FOX universe.
Warnings/Spoilers: Nothing in particular for this chapter.
Sebastian manages to secure a tentative friendship with Hunter built entirely on their mutual unwillingness to whisper a word of what happened between them on Saturday and Hunter's unspoken acknowledgement of Sebastian struggling to process his complicated array of feelings and emotions. He feels forced to concede that having Hunter on his side instead of putting a fist through his face helps immensely when he struggles to concentrate during classes on Tuesday and Wednesday - his roommate has detailed study notes available for him when his head is on straight and he's willing to read them.
On Wednesday afternoon, he even dares to allow Hunter to cuddle against him again because he feels like he's on the verge of fragmenting apart. Whenever he had started thinking too much in class, he realised there was a tightness in his chest that made it hard to breathe. His hands had been shaking since lunchtime and made it nearly impossible to write anything down. He's not sure how Hunter had known he needed to be held together but he's silently grateful for it as some of his frantic heartbeat slows when he pretends Hunter's arms are actually Blaine's.
He loses track of how many texts from Blaine he stares blankly at though. As much as he desperately wishes Blaine was here, he's glad he isn't because he doesn't want to be seen like this. He eventually manages half-hearted replies simply to reassure the other boy he hasn't died. He doesn't hate Blaine, he doesn't want to appear cold and distant, but he's lost in his own head, his own tumultuous mess, and he can't offer Blaine the attention he truly deserves. He's also scared that he'll say or do something really stupid that ends up damaging his friendship with Blaine. Somehow avoiding him seems like it could cause less problems because at least he's not going to wreck one of the best things he has in his life.
Given his internal conflict, he supposes he shouldn't be surprised when he gets a little yellow note in class on Thursday that whisks him away from Biology and into James' office.
"Take a seat, Sebastian," James says as Sebastian enters. The principal is typing something on his laptop with two fingers, intently scrutinising the letters on-screen as if they'll snarl and snap at him if he stops or looks up.
Feeling immensely uncomfortable – and dubious the feeling would ever go away considering the power the principal has – he sits on the chair and taps his fingers in his lap until James is evidently done with whatever he's typing. He almost thinks that James makes him wait, deliberately increasing his anxiety over why he's been called here in the first place.
"Now then," James begins, closing his laptop and removing his glasses to look at Sebastian carefully, "would you like to leave the school grounds this weekend and see your sister?"
Sebastian feels himself grow very still, his eyebrows pulling together. He'd wanted to ask to leave this weekend, more to see Blaine than Lillian, but he'd also been unable to work up the guts to see the principal because he figured his distress would be all over his face. He was afraid that seeing Blaine might make him realise things he wasn't prepared to face just yet. It seemed like James was setting a trap by extending such an offer.
"Excuse me?"
James folds his hands together on the laptop in front of him as he leans forward in his seat. "I have received multiple reports regarding your behaviour in class this week," the principal explains, imparting the words like it's some ultra-special secret rather than an easy-to-acknowledge fact. Sebastian resents that the gossip mill at Dalton is just as alive and well as it had been at his previous schools and wonders if all teachers are just adults who haven't outgrown the teenage need to gossip. "I am aware of your sister's health but wondered if a change of scenery, a chance to reconnect with a loved one, may improve your disposition."
Sebastian spends a lot of time searching for the catch hidden in James' words. It all seems too good to be true, to just be thrown a lifeline out of this place without having to discuss what's going on inside his had. He's waiting for the pause and then, "But actually-". He's waiting for the cold laughter as James reveals it's all a joke. He's waiting for the alarm clock to ring and rattle him awake from this dream.
"Would handing you a completed form stop your doubts?" James asks, shifting some papers around until he finds what he's looking for. The sheet is exactly the same as last time with the exception of the date.
He stares at it before tentatively reaching for it. James doesn't move it away or crumple it up, doesn't start mocking him for ever believing he was worthy of such a thing. It's only when he realises how many doubts he has about the genuine kindness behind James' actions that he becomes aware of how thoroughly distrusting of people he has become. He wonders when that started.
"Thank you, Sir," he murmurs, drawing the page into his lap and gazing at it like it's embossed with pure gold. He's not entirely sure how to feel because it makes it real that he could see Lillian and Blaine this weekend and after the week he's had, he's not sure how much he trusts himself to see his sister and his 's not sure he trusts himself not to fall apart in Blaine's presence. He's not sure he trusts himself to leave cuddling Lillian into his chest.
"Sebastian." The principal's voice is gentle enough that he looks up from the form. "If you're in need of someone to talk to then-"
"I'm fine," he interrupts, because he's had enough of those sorts of offers. He doesn't need anyone seeing inside his head. He doesn't need anyone having that sort of power over him. He stands and plucks up his bag. "Thanks again, Sir."
Somewhere behind him, he can hear James' sigh as he escapes the office and begins putting as much distance between him and the nosy principal as possible. He doesn't care that he still has two classes to go for the day. He goes to his room and hides under the blankets and refuses to budge until he hears Hunter return, hours later, and his roommate presses against him for another involuntary cuddling session.
The bus deposits him on the doorstep of the hospital on Saturday morning and he stares at the glass double doors feeling impossibly hopeless. He still hasn't decided whether he actually wants to see Lillian or Blaine but there's an expectation upon his shoulders that he should, that he will. Hunter had learned he had a pass for a day out and all-but shoved him out the door earlier to ensure he left.
But now, standing in front of the hospital, he wasn't so sure that he knew what he was doing.
He treads a familiar path to Lillian's room first. It's not that he's deliberately avoiding Blaine but he hopes that curling up with his sister, running his fingers through her blonde hair, will offer him some calm against the storm that has raged inside him for a week. He almost wishes he could bottle it and wear it around his neck on a chain for when he gets so chaotic. He just hopes Lillian can exude enough good vibes that he feels more in control when he visits Blaine.
When the elevator doors open, he spies Therese sitting at the nurse's station with some knitting. He doesn't really understand the look she gives him, somewhere between surprised and disinterested, and he offers her a nod as he passes and slips into Lillian's room.
She looks the same as last time, pale and small in the hospital bed. She looks to be resting, her eyes closed and her breathing slow and even. He picks up her chart and traces over the letters to ascertain that her condition hasn't improved. He's not sure whether that fact is a relief or not. He supposes that knowing she could deteriorate but hasn't is the only thing that makes no improvement bearable.
He takes a long moment to stand by her bed and gently presses his hand against the top of her head. Her hair is fine and soft beneath his touch, a dark yellow after so many months without the sun having the chance to lighten it. Her little nose scrunches at the touch and he's halfway to removing his hand because he doesn't want to cause her pain when her eyes flicker open and her lips twitch into a smile.
"Sebby?"
"Hey," he whispers, bending to kiss her forehead as she carefully shifts over to make room for him on the bed. He nuzzles a kiss to her cheek as he slides onto the mattress, slipping an arm beneath her head while she snuggles into resting against his shoulder.
"Hi," she breathes, her fingers settling against his stomach and curling into his jersey. She's connected to so many monitors and machines, things beeping and blipping in ways he doesn't understand, but it's comforting having her in his arms. It's comforting knowing he can protect her, at least a little. It's comforting having her move so willingly into his embrace. He doesn't feel like a monster when Lillian is so trusting of him to take care of her. "What are you doing here?"
"I missed you," he says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. His fingers trace over the sharp angles of her cheekbone and jaw and wishes, once again, that she was healthy.
"I missed you too," she says with a gentle smile and her eyes close for a long moment. She looks so sweet and content as she relaxes against him. If he tries hard enough, he could imagine they're at home and pressed together on the couch because his sister just wants a cuddle while they watch the morning cartoons. "Are you okay?"
Her soft question surprises him and he tilts his head to look down at her. Her eyes have opened again and he can't deny there's a concern within their depths that shouldn't exist in the eyes of an eleven-year-old. Sometimes he worries about her future, when she's more mature for her years than anyone else her age. He's never entertained the thought that the odds of her having a future are miniscule.
"Why wouldn't I be?" he replies, sweeping his fingers through her hair and draping it behind her ears. If he had a better position, he'd probably braid it for her – although that might be a clear indicator to his parents that he'd stopped by. He's pretty sure his mother knows he'd learned to braid hair by using a docile Lillian as his model.
"You're quiet," she says, her breath a warm exhale against his jaw, "but your thoughts are loud."
His eyebrows rise at her observation and he presses another lingering kiss to her forehead. His sister is his guiding light and, he thinks, she always will be. A beacon in his darkest moments, always capable of seeing through the quagmire he'd gotten himself lost in.
"I'm-"
He bites down on the words a second before they flow free. He's not sure how to confess anything to Lillian and he's even less sure how contained she can keep it. With enough morphine, secrets slip past his little sister's lips too easily. Yet he's also not sure how long he can hold it in and if there's anyone he trusts to see him at his most vulnerable, understand his darkest thoughts, it's Lillian. There's a bond that exists between them that little could break.
"You know how boys like girls and girls like boys?" he asks, watching her pale brows furrow as she stares at him with such open trust and honesty that he nearly pleads for her to close her eyes because he doesn't feel deserving of it. She takes a very long moment to think through his words before nodding, long enough for Sebastian to start second-guessing himself about admitting what he's so scared to say. When her fingers twitch against his stomach, he takes a deep breath and blurts out, "I'm not sure if I like girls the way I'm meant to."
It hangs in the air between them for several long minutes. Sebastian can't decide if his heart beat feels like it speeds up with anxiety or slows down with the ridiculous amount of time that stretches between them. Lillian gazes at him, her expression unchanged, as she processes the words over and over.
"Do you like boys?" she says, clearly considering the words because her lips have pressed outwards slightly in the way that he knows is his sister thinking very hard about something.
He sighs and glances away, towards the generic painting of a vase with some colourful flowers spilling from it. He doesn't want to admit that he's scared of seeing his sister's reaction to his confession. "Maybe?"
There's a painfully long pause until he becomes aware of the blip of the heart monitor increasing and he looks down at Lillian with a mild flurry of anxiety swirling inside his stomach. There are tears in her eyes, stains on her cheek, and he reaches up to wipe them away. She turns her head away from him and it practically punches the air from his chest.
"Lils?" His voice cracks on the single syllable as he struggles to breathe through the terror that rips through him.
"You…" She sniffles, raises a frail hand to her face and haphazardly smears at the wetness before looking at him again. "You hate yourself so much, don't you?"
Her words distract him from some of the fear trickling through his veins. He frowns and partially pulls away so he can sit up and look at her easier. Her question takes him by surprise and he wonders if he should stop being so surprised by her wisdom and maturity at some point. "Lillian?"
"You don't… You don't get it," she says, a weak sob getting stuck in her throat as he insistently tilts her face back towards him. "You're my brother, Seb. I love you, no matter what, and you…you're so scared that…that you can't even look at me and I-"
He realises that she isn't rejecting him, that she isn't dismissing him or pushing him away because of the crisis that has racked his brain for the past week. Instead, she's hurt because he was scared of her reaction. She's hurt because he doubted how much his sister would stand by him after all the years he's stood by her. He hadn't trusted her and the bond they have as much as she trusts him.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, scooping her closer into his arms as a tear spills down his cheek. His fear has been replaced by disappointment, a crushing sensation in his chest that feels like guilt because he wasn't sure how far his sister's love would extend. "I'm sorry, Lils. I didn't know-"
"I love you, dumbass," she mumbles, her fingers bunching into his shirt as they cling to each other. He's aware that she doesn't smell like she does at home, probably because her soap and shampoo are different, but underneath it all he knows she's still his feisty little sister who sees his vulnerabilities and patches them up with her innocence. "I don't care if you like boys, Seb. You're still my big bro who cuddled me after nightmares and read books to me until I was asleep. That's never going to change."
"It's not cool for me to cry," he chokes out against her tiny body and she giggles, high and breathless and a little broken in the middle. Lillian is his stars and moon, his rock that holds him down when he's afraid of flying free. Even if her illness has driven a wedge between him and his parents that he can't ever see breaking down, he's never been more grateful for her existence than he is right now.
He holds onto her until his hysteria passes, until he hears that her heart beat has slowed and he feels comfortable enough to lower her back to the bed and tug her into his side again. Even though he suspects they have matching green eyes rimmed by red, he feels calm as he strokes his fingers through her hair.
"So you like boys," she says matter-of-factly, peeking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes that he thinks she's picked up from him. "Anyone in particular?"
He snorts, the sound sticking a little wetly in his nose. "I'm not going to confide my love life to you, Lils."
"But your love life is better than the soaps on the TV," she pouts, hand settling on his stomach again, warm and safe and familiar. "Please?"
He rolls his eyes and kisses her forehead. "There's no one in particular," he says, ignoring the brief, unbidden flash of Blaine in his mind as he says it. He's not sure how he feels about Blaine. He doesn't see Blaine as more than a friend. Maybe Blaine is someone who can mentor him to have courage with his sexuality and he can mentor Blaine to have courage towards standing up to jackasses that don't like him.
And yet he thinks Blaine might have stolen a piece of his heart that he hadn't been prepared to offer anyone else. Blaine had seen some of his weaknesses and cared to heal them as much as Lillian did.
"Promise you'll tell me when there is?" Lillian begs and he rolls his eyes, his smile fond when he lightly tickles her tummy and she squeals and bats his hand away. He pretends to go for her tummy again and she pouts and glowers at him, and he's overcome with how happy he feels having her with him, having her awake and alert even if it's just for a little while.
He lies down on the bed and Lillian curls into his side again. A hushed quiet falls over them, soothing and settling, as Lillian's breath whispers across his skin and he distracts himself by twisting his fingers gently through her hair. It's been a while since he's felt this level of calm, especially after the chaos of the past week.
"I love you, Seb," Lillian murmurs, breaking the silence in the sweetest way possible.
He smiles, turning his head to kiss her cheek. "I love you too, Lils," he answers, tucking her closer. Her nose presses into his neck and her fingers settle on his stomach. Together, they relax into the mutual comfort that flows effortlessly between them.
He stays with her until Therese looks in. Something flickers in her eyes once the door has opened enough to let in some light but he can't quite see it and he doesn't really know her well enough to understand how she thinks. If his own sister can continue to surprise him, then Therese is a mystery he'll probably never solve.
"Your parents usually stop by within the next half an hour," she says and it takes him a moment to register that she's offering him an out, a chance to avoid seeing them. She's protecting him from them and he wonders why.
"Thanks," he says, surprising himself with the sincerity as she closes the door.
Lillian immediately clings tighter to him, like a baby monkey attaching to its mother. "I don't want you to leave."
"But I have to," he sighs, one of his hands covering hers against his stomach. He doesn't want to leave her either. Not when she's the best he's seen in months. "You probably know they wouldn't take well to seeing me right now."
"What they're putting you through sucks," she complains, twisting her fingers into his and holding tightly to his hand. "You're family."
He tries to smile but it's strained and he thinks Lillian knows that. He kisses the backs of her hand, her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, until she's giggling again but her eyes are still sad. "Keep getting strong, Lils," he murmurs as he regretfully untangles himself from his sister's winding limbs. She keeps hold of one of his hands, tugging him back to the side of the bed.
"Don't let yourself like, hurt too much with all those bad feelings," she says, squeezing his hand and gazing up at him with bright green eyes. "There's nothing you could say that would make me love you less."
He presses his lips together hard, attempting to fight back the tears that spring to the surface. She gives him a wobbly smile when she sees his expression and squeezes his hand again. He's powerless to do anything but squeeze it back and kiss her forehead before he lets go and forces himself from her side.
Therese sits primly at the nurse's station with Sinead, a junior nurse who looks like she's almost due to get off the night shift if the dark circles around her eyes are anything to go by. He pauses by the desk, glancing down the corridor towards the elevator as if his parents will magically materialise there with frowns and pursed lips. Therese tilts her head at him.
"Why?" he asks, the question laden with multiple implications. He can already feel the twitching in his fingers, the urge to run before the possibility of his parents showing up. His building anxiety at seeing them sickens him. Lillian's right, they're family. He shouldn't feel this way.
Therese offers a smile he's rarely seen on her face and waves Sinead away. The young nurse offers him a tired smile and slouches off somewhere to give some privacy.
"Lillian was much stronger in the days after you left last time," Therese confides, folding her knitting in front of her. He thinks it's a sleeve to a sweater but it could also be a very long sock. "I know you love her deeply and I know your mother hasn't been in touch with you."
He blinks at her, unsure what to make of the words. Does everyone talk about things that don't involve them like they have nothing better to do? "How do you know that?"
"She still works here, Sebastian," Therese says and he grimaces, reminded again of how many people could see him and tattle on him. Apparently she reads the expression on his face like it's transparent and his thoughts glow inside his skull. "We're all aware of you being sent to boarding school, Seb. No one is going to tell her you were here to see your sister."
"You…won't?"
She shrugs and picks up her knitting again. "When you're older, you'll understand how much people gossip inside a workplace. You'll realise we know more about your life than you want us to and that a lot of people don't agree with what's happened over the last few years." Her gaze flickers up to him intently. "Especially in regards to you."
He's completely lost and her words leave him with far more questions than answers. His stomach churns with the implications that people know more about him than he wants them to know – what if his mother knows too? What if he thought she just knew about coming home buzzed once when in fact she knew it was a habit? What if she knew about the guys he'd hooked up with? What if she knew about his crisis this past week because of Hunter? What if she knows about his friendship with Blaine?
He wants to ask Therese, wants to demand what knowledge she holds about his own life, but she's looking at her watch. "You need to be going if you don't want to see them," she says, the needles clicking as she begins threading more yarn into the loops of stitches already made.
He'll have to ask her some other time, then.
"Thank you," he says again and she waves, either deflecting the appreciation or shooing him away. He wants to say more, has a strong urge to say more, but the fear of seeing his parents drives him from her presence and into the nearest elevator. It's not until it's sinking towards Blaine's floor that he allows himself the chance to breathe.
Blaine's room is empty when he arrives and, absurdly, he panics as he looks around and in the adjoining bathroom. When it's clear the boy is nowhere close, he sets off for the nurse's station.
"I was looking for Blaine Anderson but he's not in his room?" he says, his heart pounding in the vicinity of his stomach.
"He went for a walk through the gardens," the nurse says, his nametag spelling out B E N. "If you go through those doors, you'll be able to follow the signs and find him."
He tries to smile and begins walking, though the doors and towards the gardens. He's seen them often enough from the windows of hospital rooms that he can find his way there. Calling it a 'garden' betrays that it's little more than a large courtyard with some potted plants, a handful of small trees, and a smattering of interspersed flowers, but it catches some sunlight and the weather is reasonable for this time of year.
He can't miss Blaine in a dark red cardigan with his dark curly hair. There's a walking frame beside him and he winces at it, even as he approaches the boy from behind.
"Hey you," he murmurs, touching a hand to Blaine's shoulder as he tugs a seat over. Blaine looks up from the book he'd been reading, a hazy look in his eyes as he emerges from the world he'd evidently been completely lost in.
"Hey." Blaine dog-ears the page and shuts the book, tucking it into his lap. He holds out his hand and Sebastian shifts the chair closer to tangle their fingers together. Along with the calm he still feels from seeing Lillian, holding onto Blaine's hand helps erase some of the past week's anxiety that everything would change between them after the phone call he'd made on Monday. "How are you?"
He glances down at their hands, admiring the way they fit together so easily. Blaine's skin was tanned and flawless while his was paler and dotted in freckles. "I'm okay."
Blaine squeezes his hand and he looks up to find hazel eyes looking at him closely. It makes his skin crawl. "How are you really?"
A weak sigh escapes his lips as he looks away from the stare that seems to see all the way into him, into the parts that he shields from everyone and won't even confess to himself that he has. Hunter has accepted his silence the past week and offered him comfort when they lay together on his bed, but it's more out of necessity. He has no real interest in confiding anything to Hunter about how he feels. He's still uncertain about Hunter's motives.
Blaine, on the other hand… He can't lie to Blaine. Blaine has that same ability to pierce his armour as Lillian's questions which catch him off guard. He finds himself wanting to talk to Blaine because he knows Blaine understands.
"A mess," he admits in a whisper.
Blaine makes a quiet noise of satisfaction, his thumb brushing along Sebastian's knuckles. "Let's go back to my room," Blaine says, passing Sebastian the book as he rises to balance on his good leg. He pulls the frame towards him and leans against it heavily as he takes a shuffling half-step. "Come on."
Sebastian feels like he should get a nurse or an orderly but Blaine determinedly shows him how much he's improved, hobbling painstakingly slowly from the gardens through the corridor to his room. What could have taken Sebastian a couple of minutes at normal speed takes Blaine far more than fifteen, but the satisfied look on Blaine's pinked face is worth it as he nearly collapses onto the bed.
"Consider me impressed," he says and Blaine smiles, faintly tired around the edges.
"I'm doing my best," Blaine mumbles with an awkward shrug and a haphazard hand through his curls. Sebastian shifts the weight on his feet, wondering if he should sit on the bed or pull up a chair, when Blaine's eyes meet his and his arms open wide.
His uncertainty over whether their friendship would change fades away with the gesture. He steps closer, wrapping his arms around Blaine's shoulders while the other boy folds his face into Sebastian's chest, a strong arm and a weak arm surrounding his waist and fingers curling among the fabric covering his back. Despite the height difference, amplified by the fact Blaine is sitting on the hospital bed, it's a comfortable sort of hug when Sebastian leans his cheek against Blaine's springy hair. He can already feel it helping with knitting the pieces of his scattered heart together again.
"You aren't getting threatened or anything at school because of what you're thinking, are you?" Blaine asks, almost desperately, and Sebastian blinks down at him in confusion. "No one's harassing you?"
Oh.
"I haven't… You and Lillian are….the only ones that know for sure that I'm…trying to understand it," he explains hesitantly. He doesn't know how hard Blaine had to fight to accept his sexuality but he certainly seems pretty confident with it now. Sebastian's probably too scared to tell his parents in case that's the final straw in cutting him off. He suspects Hunter probably knows, or at least is thinking he knows, and by extension he suppose Wes knows because Hunter and Wes are their own odd package deal. But he can't find it in him to hate Hunter, because his roommate has been comforting this week when he's been going to pieces.
Which is pretty weird in itself, all things considered.
Blaine's smile is shy as he nuzzles into Sebastian's chest and continues to hold him for a long couple of minutes. For someone who usually isn't particularly touchy with anyone besides Lillian, he wonders why he's so accepting of Hunter and Blaine's arms around him this week. He doesn't want to think he's falling apart and relying on others to hold him together.
Blaine pulls away only so that he can lie down. He leaves plenty of room for Sebastian to slip onto the bed beside him. At first, he expects Blaine to lie across his chest like Lillian had done but Blaine surprises him, pulling him closer until it's he who is being held against the chest of another. Blaine's fingers slide through his hair, his heart beating steadily beneath Sebastian's ear, and when those fingers move to rub circles into the back of his neck, he can't deny that some of the tension unspools from his shoulders, some of his thumping heart doesn't seem to hurt quite so much.
"What's going on?" Blaine says, his voice gentle and calm as his fingers continue that sinful circling against his skin. "Start at the beginning."
He knows he can't really start at the beginning, where he'd used guys at school for quick and sloppy blowjobs, nor can he explain what he and Hunter had done because he's not dared to press how his roommate feels over what happened. He's not sure if Hunter has told Wes and he's not sure what Hunter even is. Has Hunter had a sexuality crisis too? As selfish as it might make him, Sebastian has been far too trapped by his own thoughts to consider those of others this week.
So instead he takes the easier way out, confessing to his imaginations of hooking up with faceless men, of looking up gay clubs to go to but being disappointed at their distance, of dreaming about men's bodies beneath his fingers rather than those of girls. He admits to getting hard when he watches gay porn rather than straight and assessing the attractiveness of males at Dalton rather than considering the other half of the population that's female and he rarely sees.
The heat in his cheeks fluctuates as he works his words, wondering if it's be easier just to say he's had his dick in the mouths of three people, but he gets through it and Blaine's fingers never stop smoothing circles into his skin and maybe it's the only thing that stops him unravelling at the seams. Hunter has a way of just…holding him tightly, surrounding him with strong arms and spooning behind him that helps in the short term but not really in the long term. Lillian seeks out his comfort but she offers her own in a way that perhaps only siblings can do. Blaine… With Blaine there's a level of intimacy there that he's not familiar with and he's not sure how to take, but he's too tired and been too anxious this week to pull away or ask for it to stop. He's not familiar with it but…he knows he likes it. He's craved it all week. It draws him together again rather than letting him scatter into shards sharp enough to hurt himself and those around him.
When he falls silent, his allocation of explanatory words exhausted, Blaine's fingers scrape through the hair at the back of his head and he nearly moans with how good it feels.
"Thank you for telling me," Blaine says quietly, his nose pressing at Sebastian's hair. There's a brief pressure against his scalp and he realises Blaine's just kissed his hair and it does something weird to his stomach, turning it upside down and burning a hole in it that feels like fizzing sherbet. "Are you doing okay at school?"
He's not, and he doesn't really want to talk about it, so he gradually moves the conversation away from himself and towards Blaine, listening to the other boy talk about the improving strength in his arm and leg and his hope to be discharged and go home. He's still unsure about what's happening next year and Sebastian has the words "Come to school with me!" on the tip of his tongue but he refrains because he doesn't want to place more burdens upon Blaine's shoulders than he already has.
Ben the nurse enters after they'd been quiet for a while. He holds the lunch tray in his hands and deposits it on the movable table by Blaine's bed. Sebastian doesn't miss the way his eyes roam over each of them, tangled together on top of the bed, but he appreciates that the nurse keeps his mouth shut rather than make some homophobic comment. He's not sure he would be capable of holding it together if he did.
Blaine makes no move to eat and he makes little move to…well…move. He's pretty glad that Blaine's lunch is a sandwich and fruit cup and has no risk of going cold or spoiling in a hurry because he's content to lie still against the other boy. He can sense Blaine's fingers stilling, the deepening of his breathing, the slowing of his beating heart. There's a moment, an exhale that ruffles the tips of his hair, when he finally knows Blaine has fallen asleep.
It offers him some time to silently fall apart in Blaine's presence because he's been struggling for a week and for whatever reason, all he's really wanted is to be in much the same position he's in now. He feels safe and protected and it's only when he sniffles that he becomes aware of the tears that dampen his cheeks and Blaine's cardigan. Somewhere along the line, the friendship he had with Blaine has become something he desperately needed, held onto with a strength he hadn't known he possessed. He doesn't know if he…he's gay but Lillian still loves him and Blaine's still willing to hold him and it breaks something in his chest, maybe some of the anxiety and fear he's been trying to contain for a week that he'd be rejected by the two people he's closest to, that he needs to accept him for all his faults and flaws.
He presses his lips together hard to avoid letting any sobs escape, but there are still these weird little squeaks and whimpers that get strangled in his throat as the pain engulfs him. He spends so much of his time at Dalton forcing himself to hold it together because he never has a moment to himself that right now, hidden away in Blaine's hospital room, he knows he's splintering in a way he hasn't been able. Hunter might have wrapped him up in blankets most of the week but he still hadn't allowed himself to really cry. He doesn't think he's truly cried since first learning he was being sent to Dalton and he'd shattered the photo frame of his parents' picture and it's like months of being frayed at the seams now makes him unravel in Blaine's arms.
"Hey…"
Blaine shifts on the bed, his hand moving from the back of Sebastian's neck to cup his face. He attempts to fight against it but he can't, not for long, and Blaine somehow manages to pull off looking both sleepy and heartbroken as his thumb wipes some of the tears away.
With some careful manoeuvring on the small bed, Blaine manages to wrap around him and tangle his fingers into Sebastian's hair and grasp at the shirt covering his waist. His face is angled into Blaine's neck and maybe if he wasn't so lost to his distress, he would have gotten distracted by the soft tan skin that presses against his nose and lips. Instead, he attempts to stifle all the half-choked sobs that spill free anyway as Blaine makes soft hushing noises against his ear and rubs a gentle hand up and down his back.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice raspy and weak from the tears still threatening to burst forth of the dam he's apparently dynamited. He can't seem to stop himself. The feelings spilling out are overwhelming.
"You don't need to be," Blaine whispers back, his lips a soft press to Sebastian's temple. "You're still my friend."
It scares him to realise how much he needs Blaine to keep his word in the future.
Blaine doesn't try to stop him from crying, but he does make soothing little noises from time to time. His strength, his support, gives Sebastian something to hold onto as he cries himself dry, until his eyes are itchy and sore and his chest aches from all his ragged sobs. He's exhausted, he desperately wants to huddle up with Blaine and sleep, but he's pretty sure some of the weight that has been on his shoulders for a week has slipped away and despite his blocked nose, he thinks he can breathe a little easier.
Blaine's fingers dance over Sebastian's cheeks to wipe some of the tears away and he breathes an unsteady sigh as he wriggles his face free to stare at hazel eyes. Blaine looks sad but somehow calm as well.
"How do you feel?" Blaine says, rubbing his fingertips against Sebastian's scalp as they gaze at each other. He feels like he could turn into Lillian from earlier – clinging desperately to Blaine like a baby monkey just because he's everything Sebastian never knew he needed.
"I…" He swallows and tries to get his voice to come out as something more impressive than the scratch that it is. "I'm… Thank you for being here."
One edge of Blaine's mouth upturns. "Thank you for coming to see me. I needed a hug too."
Sebastian has a feeling it's Blaine's way of deflecting the attention off his distress, so he accepts the out and lets Blaine take care of him. He breathes in the smell of the other boy's cologne and soap and shampoo and memorises the gentleness in his fingers and gauges the weight of his body so close to Sebastian's so he can pretend Blaine is cuddled with him in his Dalton bed sometimes.
He wonders if imagining Blaine in his bed is a problem.
"You saw Lillian this morning?" Blaine says, diverting the conversation completely.
"Yeah." He smiles briefly, remembering her support and love. "She was surprisingly lucid. She told me I was a dumbass."
Blaine snorts and Sebastian's expression turns into mock outrage when Blaine gives a slight incline of his head in acknowledging.
"Are you agreeing I'm a dumbass, Blaine Anderson?" He tries to firm his jaw when Blaine starts giggling but his lips are threatening to smile again.
"Weeeeell…" Blaine says, clearly considering the words as his eyes twinkle with amusement.
"You are an awful friend," he pouts, tickling at Blaine's stomach and making the other boy laugh and squeal and squirm as much as Lillian had done. He tickles Blaine until he's a quivering, protesting mess, begging for it to stop and he huffs dramatically and lets his fingers still against Blaine's panting stomach.
Blaine's face is flushed, his smile wide, and Sebastian can't help but feel a faint smile of his own cross his lips.
"Thank you for being my friend," Blaine says, his eyes unusually intense as he looks at Sebastian, as long stretches of his heartbeat echoes in his ears.
Sebastian sinks back onto the mattress when he doesn't understand what's going on and cuddles into Blaine again. "I think I'm glad you're mine," he muses, letting his fingers slip between Blaine's. "I mean, being seen as a dumbass by both you and Lillian isn't exactly flattery."
Blaine giggles, his thumb smoothing along Sebastian's knuckles. "I'm sure we both mean it as affectionately as possible."
Sebastian pouts and Blaine grins, which makes his pout fall away as he rolls his eyes and nudges a kiss to Blaine's shoulder. "Thank you," he murmurs, realising that he definitely feels better now than he has all week but there's something uncomfortable still sitting in his stomach and it makes him start gnawing his lip.
"You're welcome." Blaine squeezes his hand and Sebastian squeezes back, feeling distracted by his own thoughts. Blaine must catch the expression on his face. "What's wrong?"
"I think…" He releases an unsteady breath as he looks at Blaine, his brows crinkling together as he struggles with the feelings and the words. "Would you hate me a lot if I…needed to take some time to figure myself out?"
Blaine smiles, slightly sad but accepting of the words. "No," Blaine says with another squeeze of his hand. "Just so long as you don't forget that sometimes I need to talk to someone too."
"I won't," he promises, leaning his head towards Blaine and trying to soak in every ounce of comfort he can. "Everything just feels…really messy and I don't know how to…to make sense of any of it."
Blaine nods, dragging Sebastian's hand towards his chest. He can feel the other boy's gently beating heart beneath his palm. "I went through that too. That stage where you start to accept maybe you are different and try to understand the world around you." The pads of Blaine's fingertips drift over his skin lightly. "Learn from my experience though and don't shut yourself away too far. I understand that you need to do it but you have people who care about you."
Sebastian's pretty sure he could count those people on two fingers – he's a bit undecided about Hunter – but he nods anyway because Blaine has been through this and he'd be a fool to disregard the advice. Why make anything more painful than it has to be?
They lay curled together until the last possible minute before Sebastian had to leave so he can get his buses back to Dalton. He shares a lingering hug with Blaine, feeling incapable of properly holding Blaine when he just wants to sink into him and feel the warmth that flows so freely from his heart.
"Look after yourself," Blaine says, kissing his forehead before he draws away. He feels tired again, drained of energy, but in a good way. He's released so many negative feelings seeing Lillian and Blaine. He needed that so he could move on and continue with his day-to-day life at Dalton as best as possible.
He's blind to the journey back to Dalton. By the time he's stepping into his room, he feels fully prepared to collapse into bed and catch up on all the sleep he's missed worrying about how Lillian and Blaine would treat him.
"How'd it go?" Hunter asks from where he's paused by his desk, pen in hand. Sebastian wonders if he should find new hobbies for Hunter outside of reading, writing and studying.
"It was okay," he says, offering a muted smile as he takes off his shoes and flops onto the bed.
"Do you want anything?"
Sebastian suspects Hunter is asking whether he needs to be held because he'll fall apart again.
But he can still feel Blaine's hand tucked into his, the warmth of his breath on his cheek and the solid mass of his body near Sebastian's. He can still feel Lillian's nose against his neck and her lips against his chin. It's enough to keep him heated from head to toe, utterly calm in the phantom embraces of his friend and his sister.
"Just need to get some rest before dinner," he murmurs, his eyes slipping shut as he relaxes. Hunter doesn't move from his chair and Sebastian willingly allows himself to slide to the first serene rest he's had in a week.
~TBC~