Chapter Text
It’s late. Really, Blaine knows he doesn’t have long left tonight, but being able to – well, to stretch his legs, so to say – means more to him than anyone could ever know.
If only his conservative family could see him now. He can only imagine the appalled look on his mother’s face and the sneer on his father’s at the thought of Blaine even daring to step foot anywhere near a nightclub.
He’s sinning, and he really couldn’t care less right now.
As he makes his way through the neon-lit room, carefree bodies grinding up against each other, laughter that’s quickly swallowed up by the thumping bass of the song that’s playing. Blaine’s not sure he remembers this one, but from the way that various couples can be seen belting out the lyrics to one another, he figures that it must have been well-known at some point.
Nevertheless, for the first time in his life, he feels free.
His heart races and each thump of the music sends a pleasant chill down his spine. Is this what it’s like to feel alive again?
At the back of the club he finds an arcade. It’s nothing fancy, just a dark corner with a few different machines, but his eyes widen when they land on the one he’s looking for.
Pacman.
God, he can almost feel what it was like to be playing it in Sam’s basement again. The first time he’d run away from home, it had been pretty much all he did.
He misses Sam. Hasn’t spoken to him in a long time. Would Sam even remember him now? He can’t help but wonder what the blond is doing with his life. Is he married? Kids? God, they’d be so genetically blessed. Blaine can picture it now – picture perfect family, and Sam the doting dad.
In any case, all he can do is hope he’s doing well. It’s unlikely that he’ll ever see his best friend again, and that thought makes his heart sink in his chest.
Still, as the machine roars to life when his first quarter slides into place and the bright colours flash before his eyes, the sound of the classic arcade machine tugs at his heart in all the right ways.
It feels like coming home.
It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he dies, though. No matter how hard he tries, the ghosts never stay blue long enough. Did they make it harder? Or is Blaine just out of practice? Probably the latter, he figures.
Still, he calls it quits for the night, and turns his attention back to the dance floor. There’s a slower song playing now, and the bodies are swaying in time – some barely holding each other up, and some are so close that they’ve practically melted into one another.
Blaine wishes he knew what that was like.
A blonde catches his eye and far too red lips quirk a smile at him, motioning to the dance floor, and Blaine shakes his head almost rapid-fast, backing away from the attention immediately and almost bumping into the man behind him so quickly that he nearly spills his drink over himself. Quickly stammering out his apologies, he doesn’t leave time to hear what the disgruntled man is saying to him before he’s crossing the room and ducking into one of the booths, hiding his now beet red face with a groan.
One hour. He’s been here for one hour, and he already feels hopeless.
He’s brought out of his thoughts pretty quickly, though, and perks his head up when he overhears what sounds like a couple arguing.
“-told you who I was, Tiger. It’s not my fault you didn’t listen.”
“Come on, Seb, we had a great night-“
“We had fun.”
“And you’re, what, gonna throw it all away?” shouts the shorter of the two, waving his hands in the air like a comical seagull, and Blaine hides his laughter behind a cough.
It’s the taller that catches his eyes and Blaine freezes.
No. This can’t be happening. Not tonight. Not already.
But, god, there’s just something about him that’s captivating. Blaine can’t find it in himself to look away.
He’s exactly Blaine’s type – hell, he’s probably everybody’s type – tall, gorgeous, charming smile. His light brown hair is brushed back in a way that Blaine’s not sure is suitable for this era, but he doesn’t look like someone who particularly cares. He’s not sure how he gets the sense of that – maybe it’s in the way that he holds himself, loose and carefree, smirking over at him with a glint in his eye that can only spell trouble.
Anxiety spikes within him, though, when the man starts making his way over to Blaine’s booth without breaking eye contact, and Blaine catches a light spattering of freckles that trail over his check and down the exposed area of his V-neck when he slides into the seat next to him.
“Um, h-hi?” is all Blaine can manage, looking at the other with a sort of wide-eyed panic that he’s sure is probably quite comical, but if the man notices it, he doesn’t say anything.
“Go along with whatever I say,” he says instead, and Blaine’s eyebrows raise on his forehead a little.
“Sorry?”
“Whatever I say. Go along with it.”
“Uh-“
Whatever Blaine’s answer was going to be, it dies in the back of his throat when his thought process is interrupted, and the shorter man from earlier is marching over to their table, a determined look in his eyes. Now that the light hits him a little better, Blaine can see whatever appeal that had the taller partake in the tryst that they’d been arguing about. He’s attractive, sure. Not remarkably so, but his blond hair and his full lips remind him a little of Sam, so maybe it’s just too weird for him to think of him that way.
“Sebastian,” the blond says, disregarding Blaine’s presence completely. “Two hours. Not much time left.”
Sebastian groans, rolling his eyes. “Then I suggest you go and make use of it. I’m busy here.”
“Come on, last week was-“
Whatever last week was, Blaine doesn’t hear it, because Sebastian holds up his hand and talks over him. “Last week was last week,” he says shortly, nudging a little closer to Blaine. Blaine feels a warmth spread over his cheeks. “I need to talk to my friend here, okay? We haven’t seen each other in a while, have we, Killer?” he asks, draping an arm around Blaine’s shoulders.
Blaine’s mind’s racing so fast that it takes him a few seconds to realise that he’s being addressed, but he’s saved from answering anyway.
“Neal, he’s sick,” Sebastian hisses, his eyes darting to Blaine and then back to the blond. Then, he lowers his voice, as though he’s in a funeral parlour. “He’s been given six months.”
“Five, actually,” Blaine interjects.
Sebastian turns to him – actually looks impressed, and they share a small smile between them before he turns his head again. “I need to catch up with him. In private.”
Neal looks a little taken aback by the news, but he holds his hands in the air, relenting.
“Okay.” He stands, regards the two carefully, and lets out a sigh. “Okay,” he repeats, before addressing Blaine. “Sorry, man. That’s rough.”
“That’s okay,” Blaine replies, managing a small smile now. He’s not sure if it’s the fumes of the alcohol or the warm presence of the man squashed right up beside him, but something’s given him a small boost to his confidence, and he’s sure as shit going to make use of it.
“See you around,” Neal mumbles, retreating slowly and catching Sebastian’s eyes. Sebastian just gives him a small nod and a salute, letting out a groan once the other is out of earshot and eyesight.
“Sorry for killing you,” he says to Blaine, nudging him with his shoulder, making Blaine duck his head with a small smile on his lips. “With the whole six months to live thing. Sorry, five,” he corrects with a grin. “Nice touch, by the way. I guess you’re not as much of a bashful schoolboy as I thought you were. Hot.”
Oh, god, is he flirting? He’s definitely flirting. Isn’t he? Blaine’s not used to this – so out in the open, where people can see them. All thoughts in Blaine’s head whirr to a halt, and all he can do is duck his head and let out a nervous puff of laughter.
“Sebastian Smythe,” he says, holding out a hand for Blaine, and Blaine looks down at it, before realising that the normal reaction would be to shake it.
As their hands join, Blaine feels the hairs on his arms rise all at once. “Blaine. Anderson.”
“Blaine Anderson,” he repeats, rolling the word around on his tongue a little as if he’s testing it out. “Mm, it suits you.” Sebastian’s eyes trail down his body, and the warmth in Blaine’s cheek spreads through his entire body. “Can I get you a drink Blaine? Least I can do.”
Blaine swallows thickly, eyes darting to the door of the club, contemplating whether this is a good idea.
His parents would definitely not approve of their son drinking, and some part of Blaine is terrified of the idea of them finding out. Then again, Blaine being in this place would be out of the question to them, too, so screw them.
And god if the sound of his own name on Sebastian’s lips don’t draw him in. It’s like Sebastian’s the spider and he’s the fly caught in his web.
Still, at least for now, Blaine doesn’t really mind.
Sebastian, apparently, isn’t interested in waiting for an answer, though. Before Blaine realises what’s happening, Sebastian’s grabbing Blaine’s hand with his own and marching them over to the bar, flagging down the bartender. “Hey, blondie!”
The bartender raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t question the nickname. “The usual?” he asks Sebastian, and Sebastian turns to Blaine.
“What are you drinking, handsome?”
God, he’s so upfront. Blaine feels like he’s about to melt into the floor with any more of his sweet talk. “Uh, just- a coke.”
“Jack and coke, times two,” Sebastian tells the barman, who gives him a stiff nod and makes to move from the bar.
“Oh, no, mine was-“ Blaine splutters, but Sebastian cuts in.
“-times two,” he tells the blond bartender once more.
Blaine huffs, but when he turns to chide Sebastian for not listening to him, Sebastian’s looking him up and down in a way that Blaine’s… really not used to. In fact, he’s pretty sure no one’s ever looked at him with such heat before. “What are you doing?”
“I’m reading you,” Sebastian tells him without hesitance.
Blaine lets out a breath of surprised laughter. “Reading me? What’s to read?”
“Why the bow tie?”
Blaine raises his eyebrows. “Excuse me?” he asks, his fingers wandering self-consciously to tug at the brightly coloured accessory. Red, he’d gone for today.
“The bow tie,” Sebastian repeats. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it works for you, but you don’t see many people with them. Not in this place, anyway.”
Ah. He supposes Sebastian kind of has a point. Then again, he’s not the only one who didn’t stick to the theme.
“Do you really care that much about my fashion choices?”
After accepting their drinks from the bartender and passing Blaine’s to him, Sebastian shrugs. “Humour me.”
Ducking his head, Blaine traces a circle around the rim of his glass, giving himself time to think. “It’s a comfort thing? I guess?”
He blinks when Sebastian reaches over and pinches the accessory in question between his thumb and his forefinger, thumb gliding over the front. “I like it.” He motions towards the people on the dancefloor – all spangles and glitter and bright neon. “I mean, everyone else here seems to dress how they think they should look. You’re authentically you… which just makes you even hotter, Blaine Anderson.”
He’s not sure why Sebastian’s trying his best to make Blaine do his best impersonation of a tomato, but it’s working.
If Sebastian notices, he says nothing, just raises his glass and clinks it against Blaine’s. “Cheers.”
Blaine raises his glass to his lips and swallows, face scrunching up immediately as the liquid burns the back of his throat.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never had alcohol before?” Sebastian asks, looking amused.
“No, I just-“ Blaine starts, shaking his head. “I haven’t had it in… a while.”
Decades, actually… but Sebastian doesn’t need to know that.
He distracts himself by drinking more. It’s not so bad once the initial burn goes away. He can almost remember it from his younger years.
Blaine’s just happy to be able to taste anything. Technology is a wonderful thing.
A beat passes, and it takes Blaine a few seconds to notice the intense look on Sebastian’s face – as though Blaine’s a complicated math puzzle that he’s trying to figure out the answer to.
“Do you live here?”
Blaine takes a gulp of his drink, and settles the glass back down on the bar. “No, uh. Well, I-“
“Tourist?”
He hums, considering. It’s more like… well, he’s scoping it out. Trying to figure out if this is really for him or not. But he’d rather not get into the details.
Thankfully, Sebastian saves him from answering. “We’ll go with tourist,” he says, with a decisive nod. Blaine can’t help but chuckle. “You new here?”
Blaine nods. “First night.”
At that, Sebastian’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “Huh. Well, okay.”
He’s about to ask Sebastian something of a similar manner, but Sebastian cocks his head when the song changes into something a little more upbeat, before smirking at him and holding out his hand. “You wanna dance, Killer?”
Blaine’s eyebrows practically reach his hairline, and he can feel his throat closing over. “With- with each other?”
“Obviously.”
He swallows thickly, thumb idly caressing his glass. Yes, he’d love to dance with the handsome stranger. God, he’d love nothing more than to get up close and personal with Sebastian, but he can feel indecision tug at him.
He’s not even sure what’s stopping him anymore. No one’s around to judge him.
“Uh. No. I don’t- dance floors aren’t my thing.”
It’s a lie, of course. Dancing is very much his thing. No one ever knew but Sam. The amount of trouble he’d have gotten into if his parents found out that, god forbid, Blaine was finding fun in something that was considered as sinful in his household- well, he’d rather not think about it.
Still, Sebastian clearly can’t take no for an answer. Either that, or he senses the indecision in Blaine’s eyes, because he just rolls his eyes and tugs on his hand. “Follow my lead.”
“No, I-“ He sighs but lets himself be pulled through the crowd of moving bodies, all shaking and shimmying next to each other to the upbeat rhythm of a song that he doesn’t recognise. At least it’s not a slow song.
As for Sebastian – god, it’s so hard to concentrate on what he’s supposed to be doing, the way that the taller is shaking his hips. It should be illegal.
“Hey,” Sebastian shouts above the music, sliding a little closer and settling his hands on Blaine’s hips. “Copy me. Loosen up a little!”
Ignoring his burning face, Blaine does – but it’s a little mechanic, because yeah, it’s been a while. And Sebastian’s so far in his personal space that if Blaine just leans forward a little bit, it’d be downright pornographic.
“Not as bad as you made it out to be.”
Blaine licks his lips, and his eyes lock into the green-brown of Sebastian’s. The blown pupils and the way that the taller is practically devouring him with his eyes tells Blaine all that he needs to know, and his heart quickens.
Oh, shit. He can’t do this. He can’t. People are watching, and Sebastian’s so, so tempting, and… fuck.
Without warning, he turns, not daring to look back at Sebastian as he rushes through the crowd to the back door.
***
Even a simple thing such as rain breaking out from the sky is invigorating. Blaine lifts his head, watching as the droplets crash down around him, splattering on the ground. The fire escape stops him from getting completely soaked, but his hair is breaking free from the gel already.
He doesn’t care. He feels alive.
Leaning against the wall, he lifts his foot just outside of his cover and pulls his slacks up so that a bit of skin is exposed, and fat drops land on his ankle. When he drops it back to the ground, it tickles, and Blaine watches in wonder before loosening his grip on the leg. He can’t help the quiet chuckle that bubbles up from deep in his chest.
“Blaine!” The sound of Sebastian’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts, and he lifts his head to watch as the taller pulls his bomber jacket over his chestnut hair, footsteps quickening towards him. “What the hell was that?”
“I… I said I’m not much of a dancer,” Blaine supplies unhelpfully, because really, where does he start?
“No shit,” Sebastian replies with a snort, settling easily into the space next to him. Their arms aren’t quite touching, but Blaine can’t help but be tempted to nudge a little bit closer for the contact. “You were like a frightened horse on a frozen lake back there.”
He wants to tell Sebastian that he can do better. He can. He has done. But the words get stuck in his throat.
Sebastian can clearly read his discomfort, though, because his features soften a little bit, and his lips dip ever so slightly from a smirk to a genuinely soft smile. “Hey, I’m kidding. Sorry if I pushed you into it. I can be a bit… forward in my approach. Just… Saturday night, once a week. There’s not much time, and I get impatient.”
So Sebastian’s a tourist, like him. Figures.
“No, no!” Blaine replies quickly. “It’s not- it’s not that. It’s…” He sighs. How does he even explain this? “Everyone was looking.”
“Looking?”
“Yeah. You know, two guys dancing. It’s…”
“First of all, people really aren’t as uptight as much as they used to be,” Sebastian tells him, levelling his gaze to Blaine’s. “Second, look around you, B. This is a party town. No one’s judging.”
Blaine ducks his head, eyes fixed on a rippling puddle below them, but Sebastian’s voice catches his attention again. “Face, it, if they were staring, it’s because they’re jealous of how hot we looked.”
The knot in Blaine’s chest loosens slightly, and he can’t help but laugh.
“You’re an asshole.”
“Thank you,” Sebastian replies with an easy grin, nudging closer. Blaine’s entire body flares at the heat of Sebastian’s arm pressed against his. It’s oddly comforting, though.
He finds himself wondering why it is that Sebastian, without having met Blaine before, seems to be able to anchor him in such a way.
“I’ve never been on a dance floor,” Blaine admits.
“Never?” Sebastian asks in surprise. “As in, never in the whole time you’ve been alive, ever?”
“Nope. Never.” Blaine stares straight ahead, but he can feel Sebastian’s inquisitive gaze on him.
He scoffs. “That’s one sheltered existence.”
Blaine shrugs, because he’s not wrong. “As far as my family’s concerned, I can’t do anything.”
Sebastian pauses for a few seconds, but then he chuckles. “Well, no one knows about half the shit I get up to. What, do your parents worry too much?”
It’s Blaine’s turn to scoff, with a depreciative laugh in tow. “They don’t worry. Just the concept of me enjoying myself would blow their minds.”
The taller’s voice takes a lower tone, and it sends a shiver down Blaine’s spine. “What would you like to do? That you’ve never done?”
Oh, where does he begin? Another broken laugh escapes him. “So many things.”
Sebastian leans closer, and Blaine can feel the warmth of his breath as the other curves towards him, lips close to Blaine’s ear. “San Junipero’s a party town. All up for grabs,” he says suggestively. To highlight his point, his hand skims over Blaine’s hip, being careful not to roam down any more. At least he can say that Sebastian has some sort of line – though he imagines that it’s a thin one. “Midnight’s two hours away.”
“Oh, that’s not long,” Blaine replies through trembled breath, eyes darting down to Sebastian’s oh-so-tempting lips.
“Why waste time standing here?” Sebastian asks, and as he presses closer, he can feel the taller’s hardened length against his thigh, and- oh god.
He’s like a skittish deer, frozen for a few seconds, before he jerks back, eyes widened.
“I, uh. Listen, Sebastian…”
“It’s okay,” Sebastian chuckles, shaking his head and leaning back against the wall, as though he wasn’t just offering himself out on a plate.
“No, I mean-“
“Really, I can take no for an answer, despite what you might think.”
“No, it’s just- I’m… I’m engaged. I have a fiancée. Her name’s Rachel,” he says all too quickly.
Sebastian, to Blaine’s surprise, doesn’t look even remotely put off. His smirk just quirks a little more. “Doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.”
Blaine rubs the back of his neck as Sebastian’s eyes roam his body, as though sampling.
“Wanna go to bed with me?” Sebastian presses on, and Blaine watches him, torn. “We can be back at my place in like-“ he snaps his fingers.
“I- I never- I don’t do… that. I never… did anything like that.”
“All the more reason.”
Blaine runs shaky palms over his face. It’s all he can do not to jump Sebastian’s bones right here and now. The taller oozes confidence, and his predatory gaze warns Blaine that clearly the other is an old hand at this. They could just have some fun.
But, no. He can’t.
“I can’t,” he says, trying to keep his voice from wavering. Why does it sound like he’s just trying to convince himself?
Sebastian sticks out his bottom lip, and nods. “Okay.”
“I just- I can’t,” Blaine repeats unhelpfully, not sure what he’s trying to accomplish in his attempt to clarify.
“I get it.”
He doesn’t look mad, at least. He looks a little… disappointed, but not in a way intended to make Blaine feel guilty.
“I- I have to go,” he stammers, pulling his sleeves over his wrists. Why didn’t he opt for a jacket? Then again, he hadn’t really planned for rain.
“In this?” Sebastian replies, gesturing to the downpour around them.
“It was really nice to meet you, Sebastian Smythe.”
Blaine holds out a hand for Sebastian to take, and Sebastian grasps onto it, a bemused expression on his face.
“Likewise, Blaine Anderson.”
He’s almost at the end of the alleyway before he swears under his breath and glances back to the space that both men had previously occupied. It doesn’t surprise him to see that Sebastian’s already gone.