Blaine's not sure who he should be more embarrassed at—at himself, for running over his ex-husband Sebastian on Valentine's Day of all days, or at Sebastian, for still having Blaine listed as his emergency contact.
To be honest, the answer should be obvious.
Like, seriously.
It's been a year since their divorce.
So surely, Sebastian would've changed it by now, right?
Wrong.
But with the way Blaine's knee bounces up and down uncontrollably as he leans back against the chair propped by Sebastian's bedside, he's not too sure that the answer is as obvious anymore.
Plus, there's the added bonus of the paramedics contacting Sebastian's next of kin and Blaine's phone going off—please don't look at me like that…
That was the longest two seconds of eye contact with the paramedic that Blaine had ever experienced in his life. It was excruciatingly awkward when it dawned on the paramedic that the guy they were gurney-ing off was hit by the one person who's supposedly the most important person in this poor guy's life.
So maybe, Blaine should be more embarrassed of himself than of Sebastian.
But it could honestly still be up for debate!
Anyway…
The rhythmic beats of the heart monitor plague Blaine's thoughts—how irritating the sound is and how oddly in sync the beeps are with the tapping noise of the heel of his shoe against the pristinely sterile linoleum.
He chews incessantly at the frayed skin on his thumb, ignoring the sting of the peel, eyes fixated on Sebastian and his sleeping self.
Sebastian has a minor cut on his forehead (thankfully, no stitches were needed nor did he have a concussion), a broken arm and a broken rib with some bruising—not too serious to cause major internal bleeding, but sure enough to cause a gnarly sight against Sebastian's pale skin. In any case, Sebastian is fine, more or less.
Sort of.
The doctor said as such!
Blaine is inclined to believe it so as a man of medicine himself. Sebastian doesn't look that bad, in fact, his hair is still perfectly coifed against his scalp. Like, of course, it is. Why wouldn't it be?
And the rage bubbles and subsides flippantly within Blaine as he waits for Sebastian to wake up.
He's angry. Furious.
He also feels sorry, remorseful, and shameful, and these emotions teeter between the realms of realism and straight-up delirium.
He's tired and frustrated too, but soon, he's feeling relieved—the buzzing in his pocket from his phone finally stops and Blaine feels like he can breathe easy for the first time that night.
Yeah, Kurt's gonna break up with me.
Not sure why I don't care.
And God, Sebastian's still so annoyingly hot.
Why am I still this stupidly handsome idiot's emergency contact?
Is he dumb?
Am I dumb?
Why am I still here?
Trust Sebastian Smythe to almost get killed while killing himself.
Blaine digs into his pants pocket after his mind finishes contemplating such thoughts. He fishes out his phone—eight missed calls and four text messages, all from Kurt.
Might as well see the notifications and get this over with.
Kurt:
- Blaine, are you on your way?
- [missed call]
- [missed call]
- [missed call]
- Blaine, I'm already at the restaurant. Where are you?
- [missed call]
- [missed call]
- Seriously, Blaine? You're standing me up AGAIN? After we already discussed this? And on Valentine's Day of all days?
- [missed call]
- [missed call]
- [missed call]
- Forget it. We're over.
Blaine blinks, checking the timestamps of the calls and messages. He had just been broken up with within the span of forty-five minutes. Has it really only been forty-five minutes?
He glances over at Sebastian and then back at his phone with a shrug—Kurt might be having a shitty Valentine's thanks to Blaine, but at least he's not in the hospital, right?
Yeah, it could be worse!
Infinitely so!
Blaine picks up the wilting roses by Sebastian's bedside table and stares at them forlornly—these were flowers he had intended to give to Kurt. He's not sure why he brought them in with him into the hospital, but he supposes it doesn't matter.
It's not like he's going to give it to Kurt anymore anyway.
Plus, Blaine didn't have the time to write a heartfelt card to go with the gift, let alone make it to the restaurant. But in all fairness, he was on time.
And this time, he really tried!
He really did make the effort to come on time!
He scheduled his surgeries strategically—skipping lunch, ordering the flowers before he left for work, and not stopping to entertain any of the interns who approached him with questions—probably the hardest part of his day!
He did everything right!
Until, out of nowhere, Sebastian stepped out onto the street in front of his car on the way to the restaurant after his shift, ultimately cementing his status as a forever jerk who just has to get run over by him if it'll get him to be late!
Typical of Sebastian to want to get as much attention as possible.
"God, you suck," Blaine mumbles under his breath, eyes back on his phone screen as he begins the process of scrubbing everything relating to Kurt off of his phone.
In retrospect, Kurt was just his rebound relationship after the divorce, and Blaine, hating the fact that he had wasted his twenties with Sebastian and with the added crippling fear of having to start over again in his thirties, latched onto Kurt like a lifeline.
A bad relationship was better than being in no relationship, Blaine thought. He'd been single for six months at that point, but this breakup with Kurt didn't hurt as much as he thought it would.
Maybe when the adrenaline from hitting his ex-husband wears off, he'll feel like shit about the breakup.
Yeah.
Yeah!
"You suck."
Okay, maybe not. He feels like shit now as Blaine's heart stalls momentarily—breath hitching in his throat as he slowly looks up from his phone.
Sebastian stirs from his sleep, his tongue darting out to lick his dry lips as he blinks away the tiredness from his eyes. He lolls his head to the side to look at Blaine through half-lidded eyes, a lopsided smile on his lips. "Anderson."
"Sebastian?" Blaine sits up in his chair, scooting it forward out of habit. "You're up."
"I am."
"Are you… okay?" Stupid question, Blaine knows this, and he knows Sebastian's thinking the same with the way his eyebrow quirks up quizzically.
Sebastian doesn't answer, not with his words anyway, as he looks down the expanse of his body as if that was answer enough. He shrugs slightly for emphasis before asking, "Those for me?" He nods towards the flowers, a petal falling off the stem for dramatic effect. "They look like shit."
"You look like shit," Blaine retorts.
"Being hit by a car does that to a person," Sebastian bites back.
Somehow, that offends Blaine. He sits up straighter and points at Sebastian accusatorily, "Hey! You're the one who appeared out of nowhere! What were you thinking? Was Valentine's Day so bad that you had to off yourself?"
Sebastian rolls his eyes, "Okay, relax Blaine. I wasn't trying to off myself." Blaine raises an eyebrow in suspicion and Sebastian clicks his tongue, knowing he'd have to elaborate. "I was lighting up my cigarette and the lighter slipped out of my hand and onto the road. I was a little drunk and wasn't thinking when I went to pick it up. Didn't realise it fell onto the road. My bad."
"Yeah, it is your bad," Blaine scoffs before he can stop himself. God, why did I say that? "A-anyway… doctor said you'll be fine. Just some bruising." And a broken arm and rib, but surely he can feel that for himself.
"Oh, the doctor said, huh?" Sebastian groans as he adjusts his position on the bed. "Does the doctor know what it feels like to get hit by a shitbox? Still driving the Prius?"
"Still have me as your emergency contact?"
Sebastian clicks his tongue at getting clocked like that. "Where do you even go to change that shit? It's not like I can change it at the post office or anything."
Blaine feels his chest tightening as he can see a soft blush forming on Sebastian's cheek.
Yup. He's more embarrassed than Blaine. Okay, good!
Except, no, because Blaine's feeling his own cheeks heating up too.
Blaine clears his throat, "No, they're not for you," he answers Sebastian's earlier question. "It was for Kurt, but… he broke up with me. Like… a few minutes ago or something."
"Oh, Kurt, huh?" Sebastian says, trying his damnest to sound surprised. Blaine decides to not dwell on it. "Well, you're two and oh on giving people a shitty Valentine's Day. Good for you."
Maybe Blaine does want to dwell on it.
"Keeping tabs on me? Classy." Blaine grabs the roses and tosses them in the small trash can underneath the bedside table. "And what about you? Drowning in your sorrows with a bottle of Courvoisier?"
"Nah, I got a promotion at work," Sebastian says. "Junior Partner."
Blaine swallows hard. "Oh."
Sebastian bites his lower lip, his eyes downcast. "All those late nights and missed dates, eighty-hour work weeks and neglecting our marriage—I guess in the end… it was worth it?" He didn't sound all too convincing and Blaine can feel his heartstrings tug at the memories of the last few years.
It was hard.
It was lonely.
And it was hell.
But… Sebastian made it.
And Blaine dipped before he could see it happen.
The silence stretches between them, save for the rhythmic beats of the heart monitor. Guilt washes over Blaine as he struggles to find the words.
Congrats, right?
I should congratulate him?
But Blaine felt far from celebratory.
"Why the long face, Anderson?" Sebastian asks after a beat, his hand emerging from underneath the thin sheet blankets. His fingers teeter at the edge of the bed, almost lifting up to reach across and touch Blaine's knee, but just falls short of doing so. "Don't you want to say congrats?"
Blaine sighs, leaning forward to pick up the discarded flowers. He shoves the roses by Sebastian's hand for him to take. "Congrats."
Sebastian blinks, perplexed by the gesture actually being completed. He takes the roses and smiles, "Mmm, thanks. Trash flowers. I love it."
"Sebastian—"
Sebastian cuts off Blaine by sniffing the roses exaggeratedly loud. "Mmm, yes. These smell, uh… fresh! Thanks, Blaine." He hums and coos approvingly, making sure to smell each rose, burying his nose into the core of one that has wilted the most. "This one's scent is stronger. You know, dying flowers smell better than healthier ones. I wouldn't mind getting more trash flowers especially if they're on the cusp of becoming potpourri—"
"Sebastian," Blaine says more firmly, his voice slicing through the air. Sebastian lowers the flowers, his smile slowly disappearing as the atmosphere shifts into something heavier.
"Blaine," Sebastian answers in a way that lets Blaine know he's on the same level.
"I'm proud of you," Blaine's eyes dart between Sebastian's face and his hands that grasped the roses. "Really, congratulations. You deserve it."
Sebastian settles back into his pillows, setting the flowers by the bedside table.
Blaine can see Sebastian's fingers rubbing the cotton of the blankets, itching to reach out and hold something other than the flowers.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Couldn't have done it without you," Sebastian says quietly between the beeps of the heart monitor. "You put me first, doing med school part-time so I could fast track my career… You put up with me when I was at my worst, helped me see the light at the end of the tunnel and when I graduated and got a job, you continued to support me through my early years too… So thank you. Really, Anderson. It's all you."
"Smythe."
"Hm?"
Blaine closes his eyes and inhales deeply, "Anderson-Smythe," he corrects. "I'm still… Anderson-Smythe." He's not sure why he's telling Sebastian this—he's not sure why he's still Anderson-Smythe.
But being credited for something Sebastian's worked so hard on all on his own—either Blaine underestimates his role in Sebastian's career, or… he's simply forgotten what it feels like to be appreciated—the words just spill out before he could stop it.
Blaine can feel Sebastian's gaze on him and he wills himself to open his eyes, "I was… just not in the right headspace to deal with the logistics of changing my name after the divorce. I just started at a new hospital and I didn't want to cause any drama by telling them I'm just Anderson now… And I didn't realise how many places I'd have to change my name at so I just…"
Sebastian chuckles—not with any hostility or in a mocking kind of way—maybe just out of pure astonishment or amusement if anything. "Me too. Still Anderson-Smythe."
Blaine blinks. "Oh."
"Yeah. Oh," Sebastian repeats. "But not for the same reasons you kept our last names."
"Oh?" Blaine raises a brow. "What reasons then?"
Sebastian shrugs, "I don't know. I mean, yeah, maybe for logistics too, but mainly because I still love you."
Blaine's stomach drops. "Oh."
Sebastian snorts, and for a second, Blaine thinks Sebastian's joking—being a little court jester and pulling his leg. But then, Sebastian's fingers that have been itching to touch him, finally reach out and wrap around Blaine's hand and… he's not joking. "Genuinely, I didn't mean to get hit by you… but I'm glad I did."
Blaine feels like an idiot—a stupid, selfish idiot. "Shit. I didn't even apologise. I'm sorry, Sebastian. I really do feel terrible."
Sebastian shakes his head, "Not your fault, Blaine. I should've looked where I was stepping out onto. Though I'll admit now, I was kind of hoping something non-fatal would happen to me so that the hospital would call you and you'd come see me."
Blaine looks at Sebastian with an incredulous expression, "Okay, Boo? You're so stupid." Sebastian laughs at that. "You can just call me, you know?"
"Didn't know if you'd pick up," Sebastian says defensively. "Also, I didn't know if you would come if something did happen to me, but hey. Here you are."
"Well, the paramedic called your next of kin and my phone started to ring—how could I not come?" Blaine sighs and Sebastian laughs again, though it's more pained this time as his ribs start to hurt. "Hey, take it easy."
"I'm fine," Sebastian insists as he settles. "I'm fine, really. You look good, by the way."
Blaine rolls his eyes, "Idiot."
"Yeah, maybe. Maybe not." Sebastian maneuvers their hands so that their fingers link—something that Blaine's yet to pull away from. "Blaine?" Sebastian calls out, cutting Blaine off from thinking too deeply about their hands.
"Yes?"
"I still love you."
Blaine swallows thickly, the words slicing through the air like a knife. Yeah, he's definitely not thinking about their hands anymore. And Blaine would be lying if he said he didn't still feel something for Sebastian.
A part of him always knew he'd still harbour love for the man he spent a better part of a decade with, but as for what kind of love?
Something else that is also up for debate.
Blaine slowly withdraws from Sebastian's touch, but not without patting the backside of Sebastian's hand to let him know it is not a gesture of rejection, but one of consideration. "I love you too," Blaine says back, the words slipping out a lot easier than he anticipated.
And he trusts that Sebastian knows it's probably not the same kind of love he was thinking when he said it first.
Or maybe it was?
Either way, Sebastian smiles softly—a smile that he knows damn well would make Blaine go weak in the knees—but it's also a smile to let Blaine know that yeah, it's okay.
It's okay if it's not the same kind.
It's okay if it'll never be the same kind again.
I just wanted you to know kind of love, and Blaine knows—it shows in the way he smiles back—just as soft and just as warm as the day they got married.
And Sebastian's content with that. He's content with this kind of love—it's the kind of lost love that stems from nostalgia—the lost love that stems from a history that cannot be erased but also cannot be recreated in the future.
It's fine.
It's okay.
He anticipated it as much.
But what Sebastian doesn't anticipate is Blaine lifting off his chair and leaning forward to press a gentle, chaste kiss against his lips—tentative yet tender and full of hope.
When Blaine pulls back, Sebastian's eyes flutter open, meeting those familiar hazel eyes with a warmth that feels like home. He licks his lips, tasting the faintest hint of strawberry that's just so uniquely Blaine and asks, "What's that for?"
Blaine sits back on his chair with an expression that says I don't know.
Sebastian can tell Blaine's scrambling for an answer, but when Blaine just shrugs ever so slightly, Sebastian grins. "I'm glad you ran me over, Blaine."
Blaine stares, perplexed. But then, he cracks a smile. "I'm… glad I ran you over too. And that you're too much of an idiot to update your emergency contact."
"I bet you saved a lot on gas by riding in the ambulance on the way here too, huh?" Sebastian quips.
Blaine snorts and shakes his head, "No, I think my car's surely been towed by now. I was in a no-park zone. Definitely going to cost a lot more to get my car from the impound than it would've cost me to drive here myself."
"Yeah, but hospital parking would've cost you an arm and a leg had you driven here and parked," Sebastian counters.
Blaine chuckles in agreement, "Yeah, you're probably right. I'll foot the hospital fees," Blaine offers but Sebastian shakes his head.
"Hey, you got me flowers. The least I could do is pay my own hospital fees."
Blaine raises a suspicious brow, "Pay the hospital fees for something I caused? How does that make any sense?"
"Well, if you really feel like paying me back, maybe you can take me out on a proper date. With proper flowers and preferably with me not wearing clothes that'll expose my asscheeks if I fart in it."
Blaine bursts out laughing, clasping his hands over his mouth at the obnoxiously loud noise he makes. "God, you're shameless!"
"And you're like, thirty, laughing at fart jokes," Sebastian teases lightheartedly. "And what was that sound? One would think we're in a slaughterhouse rather than a hospital."
Blaine points to the ceiling, "One would think, okay nerd. You're the one making fart jokes."
"It is no joke, Anderson," Sebastian says with a tsk, "I've actually been ripping a few out this whole time and let me tell you, it is breezy as fuck down there. Like, why are you removing my panties?"
"Please say underwear," Blaine insists. "And it's for the catheter, genius."
"I'm not wearing one." Sebastian frowns. "I think." He lifts up the blanket with his good arm and checks before giving Blaine a pained expression. "Yup. I'm not wearing one. So, this hospital is just full of sick fucks!"
Blaine rolls his eyes, though a smile plays on his lips, "You probably pissed yourself when I ran you over so that's probably why you don't have any on… That, or it's just standard protocol. You're more or less fine, but doesn't hurt to be able to have easy access if things turn for the worse—which it won't!" Blaine knocks on the bedside table for good measure.
Sebastian raises a brow, "Easy access, huh?" he drawls. "Doesn't sound too bad if you're my doctor." Sebastian presses the back of his hand against his forehead and tosses his head back into the pillow, "Oh, Doctor Anderson, it hurts down there! I think you need to perform mouth-to-dick resuscitation—ow!"
Blaine grabs the flowers and hits Sebastian with it lightly.
"Hey, you're violating your Hippocratic Oath!" Sebastian whines, snatching the flowers off of Blaine and cradling them to the side out of Blaine's reach.
"Well, family can't treat family, so I can't be your doctor," Blaine retorts before realising the implications of his words.
He clears his throat awkwardly, eyes diverting away from Sebastian's gaze as Sebastian smiles softly, bringing the roses up to his nose and smelling them—more fragrant than before now that they were roughed up a bit. "I mean it, Blaine. About the date. I want us to go out on a date."
"Sebastian…"
"It doesn't have to mean anything," Sebastian continues, setting the roses down on his chest. "Let's just catch up. As new acquaintances. Or as friends. Or as… whatever. And whatever it is at the end of the night, I'll take it as it is. Whether we stay in touch or go our separate ways… I don't think it'll hurt to know where we stand if we are standing together or not."
Blaine inhales sharply, letting Sebastian's proposal sink in.
There are a lot of things that run through his mind—even though Sebastian says it doesn't have to mean anything, that in itself means something.
Blaine's not sure if he wants it to mean something. Or if he wants it to mean everything.
Plus, he did just kiss Sebastian, so it makes sense to know where they stand, as Sebastian said.
And no, this isn't Blaine retreating back into something so familiar with Sebastian—even though they've been together longer than they were apart, a year is still a long time, and things… could've changed.
Or, they could still be the same.
Blaine's not too sure of that either.
Regardless, Blaine meets Sebastian's gaze and nods, earning a brighter smile from Sebastian that makes his heart melt.
Whatever comes of their date, it feels good to know that love isn't completely off the table.