Chapter Text
Daylight streamed in through a small crack in the blinds as Blaine blinked himself awake. He couldn’t bring himself to fully open his eyes, feeling the dull ache at the back of his head. He hadn’t exactly gotten hammered last night, but he wasn’t as young as he once was, he couldn’t quite handle his alcohol at 30 the way he did at 21.
Blaine noticed very quickly that his surroundings were unfamiliar, and that there was something weighing down the other side of the bed.
Oh, yeah.
He very carefully turned his head to the side and saw the man next to him. Chestnut hair that was at one point perfectly quaffed now a mess atop the man’s head. He lay on his stomach with the sheets pooled around his hips, leaving his smooth, lithe torso and long legs exposed, and he was still fast asleep. Even in his messy, sleepy state, Blaine had to admit that this man was gorgeous.
Last night’s events flash in his mind. He remembers cool blue eyes that shone even in the darkened bar.
“So, what are you drinking?” Blaine asked boldly.
“A top shelf pinot noir if someone else is buying,” the man said with a flirtatious wink. He was, however, still very shocked when Blaine immediately called to the bartender and ordered exactly that.
“Oh my god, you didn’t have to actually get that!”
“It’s not often I get to buy a drink for the most handsome man in the room,” Blaine replied.
And that was it, they were talking most of the night. Blaine craned his head to the other side and very carefully moved to grab his phone to check the time. 08:00. Shit, he had a breakfast meeting this morning. Had he mentioned that last night? He could’ve sworn he did.
“Thought I’d just buy us a bottle,” the blue-eyed man said as he waltzed back over to the secluded booth that he and Blaine had procured. “It’s not quite top shelf, but it’s the least I can do after that divine first glass.”
“Well, you didn’t have to do that…” Blaine replied, now much more confident in his flirting.
“Oh, but I wanted to.”
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Never! Simply suitably tipsy so you drop your gentleman act and come home with me.” Those gorgeous eyes were sparkling with delight and wickedness as they looked Blaine up at down. He shifted slightly closer to the man, watching him pour the wine into their respective glasses.
“I should tell you, I have an early morning start that I really can’t be late for. Important breakfast meeting. I’m kind of a big deal, you know?” Blaine winked. He had no intention of actually moving away from this interaction, but he wanted to see how his counterpart and evening flirtationship would take this.
“Well then,” the man lifted his glass and gestured for Blaine to do the same, “there’s no time to waste.” The man clinked their glasses together, but instead of lifting the wine to his lips, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Blaine’s in a searing kiss.
Blaine shifted carefully on the bed so as to not wake up the man lying beside him. He scanned the room, eyes searching for his clothes from the night before, scolding himself slightly for sleeping far too long and not giving himself enough time to go home and change. However, as he silently padded around the room seeking out his belongings, he couldn’t stifle his grin and the faint blush that he felt warming his cheeks as he remembered exactly how they ended up strewn all over the place.
As soon as they were through the door to the man’s apartment, Blaine was pressed against the door, strong hands framing his shoulders and soft lips grazing his, not quite kissing, but so, so close. He could feel the man’s breath ghosting over him, goosebumps immediately appearing on his flesh.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” the blue-eyed man whispered, a slight growl at the back of his throat.
Before Blaine could even think about finding the words to reply, those lips were pressed against his again, moving with a hunger that Blaine immediately found himself reciprocating. He felt his jacket being pushed from his arms, simultaneously feeling the man’s soft tongue dance over his lower lip, light little flicks that made his eyes roll back. Blaine angled his head and welcomed him in, and god, kissing this man was like an out of body experience.
Jacket out of the way, pooled on the floor and forgotten, the man’s fingers moved deftly over each of Blaine’s shirt buttons, popping each of them open with skilful expertise while tongues continued to tangle in carnal desire. Tasting. Feeling. Exploring.
“Fuck,” Blaine whimpered as blunt fingernails scraped down his chest, forcing their lips to detach as his head fell back against the door.
Blaine felt himself being tugged by his belt loops. His gaze met the other man’s, his eyes now darker and blown, and smirk tugging at his lips that Blaine wanted to kiss away. Instead, Blaine placed his hands on the man’s trim waist, squeezing slightly, and allowed himself to be moved towards the bedroom.
Once his calves hit the bed, the rest happened in a flash. His shirt was torn from his shoulders, his pants undone and slipped part way down before he was pushed onto the bed. He watched the man peel his slacks off the rest of the way and throw them to the side, wickedly grinning as he seemed to drink in Blaine’s close to naked form, eyes raking from top to bottom and then back up again.
It was only then that Blaine realised that the other man was still fully dressed. He lunged forward, grabbing him at the hips and pulling him onto the bed. That had to change.
The cold floor beneath his bare feet brought him back to himself, a shiver shooting up his spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. He paused, listening, breath held and muscles tense, for any sign that the man in the bed had stirred. There was nothing but the soft, even rise and fall of his back, and the faint sound of breath against a pillow. Good.
He exhaled slowly and resumed his scavenger hunt.
His found his pants draped over the back of a chair by the window, one leg nearly brushing the floor. He carefully lifted them down and folded them over his arm. His shirt took a little longer to locate, but he eventually found it half tucked beneath the bed, abandoned when urgency had overtaken any sense of order or dignity.
He retrieved it gently, shaking it out once, then twice, inspecting it in the thin stream of morning light breaking through the blinds. No stains, thank god, and minimal creases. He could work with that. Blaine pressed the fabric briefly to his face, catching the faded scent of last night – very faint sweat masked by a mixture of cologne, some that is his, and some that clearly isn’t. Blaine’s chest tightened at the unfamiliar scent, knowing that he would be infiltrated with reminders of this man all day.
This is the part, he thought, where you’re supposed to feel regret.
He doesn’t.
If anything, there’s a strange buoyancy under the dull throb of his headache. Blaine couldn’t shake the feeling that he was floating a few inches above the floor, untethered, moving through someone else’s morning, like he’d stepped out of a dream and was carrying pieces of it with him.
He tiptoed his way towards what he assumed was a bathroom, breathing a small sigh of relief when he was correct.
Setting his clothes on the counter, he braved running the sink to splash some cold water on his face, the sudden temperature shift allowing his brain to catch up with the morning. He looked straight ahead into the mirror with the intent of inspecting his face, making sure he didn’t look too tired, but his eyes were immediately drawn instead to a purpling mark at his collar bone. His fingers trailed lightly over the mark as more memories from the previous night seeped through.
Both clad in only their underwear, the pale man pinned Blaine to the bed and swung one leg over to straddle his hips. His head dipped and his lipped quickly attached themselves to Blaine’s jaw, kissing and licking and nipping at the skin, earning the most incredible whimpers from Blaine’s throat.
He continued kissing down Blaine’s neck, one arm still holding his wrists above his head, so Blaine was helpless to do anything other than squirm and moan under the man’s ministrations.
As if instinctively knowing it would drive Blaine absolutely wild, the man clamped his mouth over Blaine’s collar bone and began to suck hard, whilst also choosing that moment to grind his hips down into Blaine’s, their straining cocks meeting through fabric in the most delicious friction Blaine had ever experienced.
The man continued to push his hips down as he sucked, mewling into Blaine’s skin as he did, as if Blaine was the first meal he’d been allowed after a long fast.
With a loud smack his lips finally detached, Blaine panting heavily as the man soothed the forming bruise with his tongue, looking up at Blaine coyly through hooded eyelids, long lashes fluttering sensually.
He slipped his shirt on and buttoned it carefully, fingers slightly clumsy with lack of sleep and the dull ache still in his head, then pulled on his pants.
As he arrived back into the bedroom, his phone buzzed softly from the nightstand, and his heart jumped into his throat. He picked it up quickly to silence it – the chestnut-haired man in the bed still not showing any signs of waking – and then unlocked the screen.
A calendar reminder flashed at him. Breakfast meeting. 9:00. His eyes then flicked to the current time. 8:15.
He swallowed carefully, knowing he was running low on time, and gathered the rest of his things – wallet, keys, jacket – before pausing by the bed. He hadn’t meant to, but as he looked down at the man sleeping there, sprawled and unguarded, lashes dark against pale skin, a tingle ran through him from tip to toe. Blaine let himself look for just a second longer than necessary.
“I wish…” he whispered before he could stop himself, the words barely making any sound at all, only breath and want escaping his lips. He didn’t, couldn’t, finish the thought. He didn’t know how.
He slipped on his shoes by the door, wincing slightly as he bent down to tie the laces – his head really was going to make him pay for this – and eased it open with painstaking care. The lock clicked softly behind him, final and definite, and he was suddenly alone in the hallway, the quiet of the apartment replaced by the distant hum of the city waking up.
The elevator ride down was slow but, mercifully, empty. He leaned his head back against the wall, eyes closed, breathing through the faint nausea curling in his stomach. He can almost hear the echo of the man’s groans in his bones, feel the ghost of hands at his waist, lips at his ear.
“Fuck, you’re good at this,” the man whispered, clutching to Blaine’s waist as if it was his lifeline.
Blaine now had the man pinned to the bed with his thighs, thrusting both of their cocks into his lubed hand, hips rolling in a desperate rhythm he was determined to maintain.
His eyes flicked down to the sight of their hard lengths sliding together through his fist, but as quickly as he looked, his eyes darted back up to the man’s lust blown face, because that visual was enough to make him come on the spot and Blaine was so, so, not finished yet.
The elevator stopped suddenly, the doors opening and revealing the full brightness of the morning. He blinked rapidly. Focus, Anderson.
Outside, the city was already in motion; food carts steaming on street corners, taxis honking, people in suits and sneakers and everything in between moving with purpose. Blaine stepped into the flow, adjusting his jacket, trying to shake the feeling that everyone knew exactly where he’d come from.
He was painfully aware of himself, of how he must look a little rough, especially in the harsh sunlight of the bright morning, but there’s a part of him that just wants to laugh. Blaine had heard countless “walk of shame” stories from his friends over the years. He’d heard about the regret, about the looks they would get from strangers, about how it was never worth it by the morning. But he wasn’t feeling any of that. Somehow this slightly dishevelled trek through in the sunlight, noise bubbling around him, didn’t feel like a punishment. It was… something else. Something he couldn’t quite place. But it was a kind of aftermath he just couldn’t bring himself to hate.
He checked his watch and quickened his pace, the rhythm of his steps falling into something almost musical as he headed toward the subway entrance. The stairs down to the station were relentless and unforgiving, concrete and steep, and by the time he reached the platform his pulse was pounding through his body.
The train roared into the station a moment later, wind whipping around them, and Blaine automatically straightened, slipping into the practiced posture of someone who belongs here, who has places to be. Happily lost in the crowd, he boarded the train and was grateful to snag a seat, letting himself sway with the motion of the carriage as he set off toward work.
The car smelled like coffee and perfume and other people’s breakfast. Someone’s earbuds were leaking tinny music, something upbeat and relentless, and Blaine stared blankly at an advertisement across from him, his thoughts drifting back despite his best efforts.
“God, I could get used to this,” was the only thought running through Blaine’s head as he tried to focus on the task at hand whilst paying attention entirely to his surroundings.
The hand in his hair was tugging gently as his lips stretched around the man’s reddened cock, bobbing slowly, opening his throat as he went down, sucking as he rose. It was hard and heavy on his tongue, and Blaine’s head was swimming in the feeling.
And the sounds the man was making, sounds that could only be described as musical. Melodic. Something Blaine wished he could bottle and keep with him. High wines and breathy moans filled the room around them. Blaine’s own cock would twitch every time the man let out an involuntary curse, he had to keep his hips lifted to keep from just rutting into the mattress.
After one last torturously slow suck, Blaine let his mouth hang open obscenely, the head of the man’s cock resting on his tongue.
When those damn blue eyes found his own curiously, he almost abandoned his plan to continue what he was doing, but instead Blaine simply grabbed the man’s other hand and brought it up to his head. With both of the man’s hands now tangled in his hair, Blaine gave a quick wink and a nod.
An involuntary gasp escaped from the man’s lips as he realised what Blaine was asking him to do. Slowly at first, he gripped tight into Blaine’s curls and thrust upwards into the heat of Blaine’s mouth, Blaine sealing his lips back over his cock.
Blaine could tell that the other man was being careful, not wanting to hurt him, but Blaine knew what he could take. He grabbed the pale hips and forced them upwards, hard and fast, and let out a wanton moan as he felt his hardness slide all the way into his mouth.
“Fucking hell…” the man choked out, getting the message, and he picked up his pace, fucking into Blaine’s mouth with wild abandon.
The smile crept onto his face of its own accord. The man he’d been with really was melodic in every way – his voice, his laugh, the noises he’d made. A sudden jolt brought Blaine out of his daydream, and he glanced at his phone again, eyes bulging slightly when he saw the time. He should have reached his stop already, but of course today would be the day that the train was running slow.
This meeting had been all he could think about for weeks. If he landed this deal, it could mean a promotion. A corner office. A name on the door. And yet, here he was, replaying the memory of a sculpted, pale body pressed against his own instead of rehearsing talking points. But once again, that feeling of regret that he thought he should be feeling never surfaced. If he was honest with himself, he would’ve said “Fuck my 9-5” if the man had woken up and asked him to stay.
When he surfaced from the subway, the light felt harsher, the air humid and thick. He grabbed a coffee from the nearest cart – black, no room – and downed half of it in one go, wincing as it hit his empty stomach.
He caught his reflection in the window of the glass building, quickly tucking his shirt in and fixing a cuff that he had left unbuttoned. By the time he reached the offices inside, he looked like the version of himself everyone expects. Polished, composed, in control.
He’s sure no one would guess that less than an hour ago he was tiptoeing out of a stranger’s apartment, heart doing something dangerously close to fluttering, but even if they did, he just couldn’t bring himself to care. Let them talk. Let them gossip. It was worth it.
Their eyes were locked on each other, breath hot in each other’s faces as they laid on their sides, fists pumping quickly at the other’s cock. The angle was slightly awkward, but they were making it work, both determined to make the other fall apart.
Blaine was close. Dangerously close. He could feel the heat slowly pooling in his abdomen, the sweat falling off his brow. But he wanted nothing more than to watch the other man come undone first.
Blaine studied his face. Even in the darkness of the room, he could make out those piercing eyes, his sharp jaw, and pink lips, now puffed up and swollen from being pressed against Blaine’s over and over again. Blaine could hear the man’s breath pick up pace, eyes screwing shut as Blaine rotated his wrist slightly on the upstroke.
“Oh – oh fuck – I’m cl-close, ohmygod yes, please,” the man sputtered out.
Blaine grinned. He loved a babbler. Loved hearing what he was doing to someone else. To him. Blaine repeated his movements only a few more times before he finally got what he wanted.
The other man came with a shout, hot liquid covering Blaine’s hand. His eyes screwed shut and he threw his head back, his porcelain skin stretching over his neck in a way that made Blaine want to reach out and taste it. So he did.
Blaine surged forward and licked a stripe up the man’s neck, moaning in delight as he pumped him through his orgasm. He started thrusting his hips forwards, matching the rhythm of the hand that was on him. In a rush of sensation, his own orgasm hit, and he groaned into the man’s neck as white ropes shot out of him.
Both panting heavily, their eyes met again, and neither could supress the giggling that followed. They were laughing together as they cleaned up, as they slipped their boxers back on, and even as they lay back down on the bed.
Blaine was waiting for the “well, that was fun, but I’ve got to sleep so see you around?”
But it never came. Sleep quickly overtook the pair, a faint smile still on both of their faces as they drifted off.
The meeting itself passed in a blur of slides and handshakes and careful smiles. Blaine hit all of his talking points, delivering his pitch with practiced ease. When it was over, his boss clapped him on the shoulder, grinning.
“Nice work,” she said. “Drinks tonight?”
Blaine laughed, shaking his head. “Rain check.”
He retreated to a nearby bathroom, closed the door, and finally let himself breathe.
It was only then that the reality of the situation hit him. He still didn’t feel any shame, not about what he’d done the night before, or even the frazzled walk he’d had to do that morning. But he realised then that he and the man had never exchanged numbers or even names, and he’d left in such a rush that he’d forgotten to leave a note. Not even a “Had to run, explain later, here’s my number.”
Blaine swore under his breath and brought his hands over his face. He thought of those sparkling blue pools blinking open to find him gone without a trace. Would he care? Did he do this all the time? He tried to ignore the pang of guilt that hit his chest. It was a one night stand. Sure, Blaine wasn’t exactly a connoisseur of those, but people had them all the time, and then never saw each other again. That was normal, right?
Still, Blaine couldn’t help but hope that he might run into the man again. The night had been amazing. Mind-blowing, even. This guy might not want to speak to him after the way Blaine left, but as quickly as that thought entered his brain, he pushed it to the side. Something in him knew that the chestnut-haired, blue-eyed mystery man felt the same about their night together as he did. With images of their eyes first locking in his brain, he pushed open the bathroom door and headed to his desk, pride in his stride. He had to try and see him again, because what he was feeling right now wasn’t anything close to shame. It felt more like a promise.