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jammie3132 · 1 year ago

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Sir Knight and Prince Charming, Ch 4

Fandom: Glee Pairing: Blaine Anderson & Sebastian Smythe Chapter Title:...Put Seblaine Back Together Again (AO3) Chapter Summary: Sebastian finds out what’s going on in NYC while Blaine questions every life choice he made over the past 3 years.

Chapter Notes: For some reason I’m not getting alerts from @seblaineworld, so I was unaware of the need for a delay of Seblaine Week. (Get well soon Ail’s mum!). I wanted to finish this story with the daily prompts of Seblaine Week, so this chapter was written for Day 1: Soulmates. I’m not rewriting it. I’ve tweaked it enough.

Please read dedication at bottom of this page

“Oh my God! This tastes like real movie theater popcorn. I don’t know why I doubted you when you scooped it out of a commercial movie theater popper. Is that why you call the kitchen down here the concession stand?”

“That, as well as it has a soda machine and snack display case.”

Annabelle couldn’t get over how the embezzlement rumors were true. Benny freaked out with the picture proof Blaine (and his dad) let her send her boss. “Did Blaine’s parents make changes down here? Because if that guy only stole $3 million, I’m impressed. Not that he took the money but how he spent it…the money he stole. Wow, none of that came out the way I wanted it to.”

“They did buy all the instruments in the studio from the label except, of course, the piano. Kind of blew my mind when they said it was because the little shit could play all of them. Otherwise, everything is how we discovered it.”

“Blaine plays all those instruments? Impressive, but why did the Andersons pay for those and not the piano?”

“Since it’s behind a plexiglass wall, it couldn’t be removed without damaging the soundproofing, so it’s legally part of the structure.” Santana pointed at objects around the home theater. “Same goes for shit in here. It’s coming in handy because while the remodeling is going on upstairs we’ve got everything down here we need. I’ve got a bed in my office but Blam said the recliners and couch in the lounge work for them. And the shower in the bathroom is so over-the-top, the guys wanted one just like it in theirs. They were so mad when we saw there were two good size bedrooms with a joint bath across from the master when they’d been crammed into what is now my office.”

“Why would Mercedes do that to them?”

“She won’t say but probably to keep up appearances, even though she knew Sam wouldn’t take advantage of the situation. It was more of being upset they weren’t at least told the rooms were there and given a chance to decline.”

“Is it only the Blam bathroom that’s being gutted?”

“Nope, everything goes except down here and my office. But since everything is in great condition, just not Pamela’s style, they’re donating appliances, cabinets, windows, bath fixtures and anything else that can be salvaged to Habitat for Humanity.”

“That’s amazing.”

“It was actually Sammy’s idea, but the Andersons jumped on it. Did Sam tell you what happened to his family when he was high school?”

“They were homeless and he was a teenage stripper for a while to help out?” Santana nodded, happy she hadn’t overstepped. “This might sound crass but a past like that is kind of marketing gold for the lead in Magic Mike the Musical. Don’t worry, Sam is aware the internet is full of trolls, which is why he wants to get it out on his terms before the media digs it up and puts their spin on it.”

“He mentioned something like that was possible. I guess I didn’t understand how bad it could get. No offense to Sammy but this is an Off-Broadway musical.”

“Hamilton opened Off-Broadway. I’m not saying this will be Hamilton, nothing will be Hamilton, but there’s already talk in the trades on how fast it will move to Broadway. Your friend is poised for a hell of a ride.”

“Please, I’m begging you, if there’s going to be some sort of formal announcement when this happens, give me a heads-up so I can get Rachel’s reaction.”

Annabelle laughed remembering what Sam told them about his friends’ reactions. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Great. Now, back to our original subject, why isn’t the guy who took the money from the record label in jail?”

“Like I said, all this was a rumor, almost to the point of becoming an urban legend. He did just announce on his social media he’s in Europe to collaborate with a yet to be named major artist. There might be extradition issues, I don’t know. My guess is the label is keeping it quiet to save face.”

“Which is why they want to hire Mr. Anderson so he’ll have to sign some sort of NDA. I wasn’t surprised he already assumed as much when Blaine called to tell him what you said.”

“Yeah, my boss owes me big time since your boss took my advice to contact him. Maybe I can get my flight to Paris next week bumped to first class.”

“Make him throw in an upgraded hotel suite.”

“I’m staying at Sebastian’s Nana’s place. It’s basically a castle.”

“It…a castle?”

Annabelle pulled up a sky-view picture on her phone. “Its name is Château sur la colline, or Castle on the hill.”

“Holy shit! You mean the Disney Prince is an actual prince?”

“No, but only because France got rid of their monarchy. His relative was one of the only members of royalty to survive the guillotine. When everything settled down, his family spent decades buying back what the revolution took from them.”

“So, they’re loaded?”

“His grandmother is basically Bill Gates but with old money…old, old money.”

Santana almost dropped her soda but was able to set in her recliner’s holder before disaster stuck. “Anything else you can tell me?”

“I told you Sebastian is Sir Knight as part of my personal knowledge. While I might have damaged my relationship with him, I’m not putting my job in jeopardy. The same way I’m sure you didn’t say anything about this place without Mr. Anderson’s permission.”

Santana took a chance by reaching for her new friend's hand and smiled when she didn't pull it away. This was all happening rather quickly but felt really good, especially after the way her previous relationship ended. “You’re right and I’ll drop it…except, could get me in touch with a former Warbler? Any of them, except Smythe, of course. Wait, what’s wrong?”

Annabelle hadn’t only released her hand but began preparing to leave. “It’s been lovely meeting…”

“No” Santana stood to face her “What did I say? Is it the Warblers? Are they involved in whatever Sebastian has going on?”

“Santana, you need to drop this.”

“Why? Did Sebastian…”

“It’s not Sebastian, it’s Blaine.”

Santana was so startled she semi-collapsed back into her recliner. “Blaine? What the hell do the Warblers have to do with Blaine? I mean, obviously the Warblers and Blaine are connected outside of Sebastian. Hell, my ex, the good one, still believes Blaine’s last name is Warbler.”

“Think of it this way. You said Blaine and Sam are BFFs, Blam, 2 people 1 mind.”

“They are.”

“You and Sam have been trying to identify Sir Knight for 2 weeks. If you've believed there's a Warbler connection, outside of Sebastian, you must have mentioned it to Sam. If Sam hasn't said anything…”

“Trouty doesn’t know.”

“And if Blaine hasn’t told Sam…”

“Then there’s no way in hell he’s telling me. It’s that bad?”

“To Blaine it is.”

Santana wanted to smack herself. She and Sam were so focused on gathering and organizing clues, they never stopped long enough to figure out any deeper meaning. “Sebastian told you this?”

“No, Wes Montgomery…and that’s probably something else I should’ve kept my mouth shut about. I better go before I say something that’ll get me fired.”

"I'll see you out." When Santana opened the theater door, Annabelle realized how good the soundproofing was because they’d walked into the middle of a screaming match.

“Who is with Blaine?" she whispered. “Should we go back in the theater, or at least make them aware of our presence?”

“The guy with Blaine is his so-called boyfriend…”

“He’s Kurt Hummel? Somehow, he’s both nothing and exactly what I pictured. He…” She stopped when Sebastian Smythe’s name entered the argument.

“Kurt, I didn’t know he was Sebastian. He spoke with a British accent. It sounded authentic unlike most of Sam’s impressions. Don’t tell him I said that.” Blaine thought it was best for his and Kurt’s relationship to come clean about Sir Knight being Sebastian almost immediately after he found out. He realized the second the words left his mouth it was a terrible idea.

“Stop lying!”

“Why would I lie?”

“Because of that wannabe boyfriend thief! He never could accept I won!”

“You won?” Blaine noticed two women standing uncomfortably behind Kurt. Seeing Santana took him back in time to his and Kurt’s last big fight. “This sounds a lot like the rant you had 2 weeks ago when Isabelle took you off the photoshoot and you blamed me for it.”

“This sounds exactly like the rant you had 2 weeks ago when you were taken off the photoshoot at Vogue and blamed me for it.”

“It was your fault as much as it was the Meerkat’s!”

Blaine was infamous for being oblivious, but Santana couldn’t fault the look of utter confusion on his face. She was in the same state, and she had dated Brittany (and her unique way of explaining things). “What the fuck are you trying to get at, Hummel?”

Kurt turned around to see his former roommate standing next to a woman he recognized from somewhere but couldn't place. “Who the hell are you?”

“That was rude. For your information, my name is Annabelle Thompson, Mr. Smythe’s assistant and liaison between Mr. Smythe’s employers and Vogue. This included overseeing the signing of the NDAs, although I was regrettably absent when you signed yours. I’m also the person who told Isabelle Wright to remove you from the photoshoot.”

Her introduction sent Kurt into a complete meltdown, not only bashing Sebastian and Annabelle, but also Isabelle for siding with the Meerkat. When he took a momentary break for air, Blaine yelled “Damn it, Kurt! Shut up!”

“Or what? You’ll turn me in for breaking my NDA?”

Not only Blaine, but Santana and Annabelle, stood silently, giving Kurt a moment to come to terms with what he said. When he stared back at them, cluelessly waiting for a response, Santana was the first to break.

“Kurt, has your hatred of Sebastian killed your brain cells? Blaine doesn’t have to say anything. I don’t have to say anything. The woman who told you she’s responsible for the NDAs is standing right here. Hope your temper tantrum is worth the hundred dollars it’s going to cost you.”

“Try $1 million” Annabelle reminded Kurt with a tone so calm it caused both Blaine and Santana to whisper Oh…my…God under their breath.

When Blaine regained his ability to speak, he asked “Santana, Annabelle, could the two of you give me and Kurt some privacy?”

Everything within her shouted NO but Santana gave Blaine a nod before asking Annabelle to dinner. “Blainers, you want your usual from Napoli Taco?”

“Napoli Taco?” Annabelle asked. “You invited me to dinner at someplace called Napoli Taco?”

“It’s a hole-in-the-wall around the corner that only makes taco pizzas. It sounds disgusting but the food is fantastic.”

“Ok, I can live with that.”

“Thanks, Tana. Sounds good but there’s no need to be gone that long…unless you want to be gone that long” Blaine answered with a cheeky, know-it-all grin.

Santana responded with a wink, impressed he’d caught on so quickly. “So, Fajita Stromboli it is.”

“You know me so well. And Annabelle, I apologize for how I spoke when we first met.”

The assistant shook her head. “I did call you Blaine Fucking Anderson and accuse your father of screwing over a major record label. I’m the one who should apologize.”

As the two women left, Blaine wondered if Santana would stop to change. While her comfy clothes were perfectly acceptable at a place like Napoli Taco, they weren’t date clothes and the way Santana was looking at Annabelle, this was a date. That’s what love, even if only the newly attracted stage, should look like…not the 6-foot embodiment of pure anger standing in front of him.

Blaine realized, despite asking the girls for privacy, he wasn’t in a mindset to deal with his boyfriend’s histrionics. “Kurt, you need to leave.”

“No! I can't believe you set me up like this! Tell that woman to keep her mouth shut!"

“I set you up? Not that it’s any of your business, Annabelle works for the manager June found Sam and was here to pick up paperwork. No matter what you think, her being here had nothing to do with you.”

“June Dolloway found Sam a manager?”

Seriously? “You whined all last week when I wouldn’t ask her to convince the guy to take you and Rachel on as clients.”

Kurt began to pace, which was never a good sign. “So, the Bitch got Sam the same manager as the Meerkat? She also gave you the quote/unquote wrong number which just so happened to be Smythe’s.”

Blaine had a bad feeling where this was going. “What are you getting at Kurt?”

“It’s obvious. The reason June chose you as her Golden Boy wasn't because you're some sort of generational talent. She only did it to get you and Smythe back together. Which means she was only awful to me so I would get frustrated and break up with you. Now that Smythe is in Paris her plan fell apart, so she dumped you.”

Kurt had made cruel comments in the past, but for some unknown reason, Blaine never believed he was capable of sinking so low. Not just the insult of him as a performer. His supposedly loving boyfriend was aware of the anxiety he was experiencing, waiting to learn how the cancellation of his Showcase affected his NYADA coursework. He'd dropped classes due to the credits he was to receive from his mentorship with June. It was too late in the semester to make them up.

His mom once told him a person never knows what will be the moment to break them, their straw that breaks the camel's back, until it happened. This was his.

“We’re done. For good this time.”

“You can’t…” Kurt finally paused long enough to take a good look at his now former boyfriend. Oh, was he pissed. “Blaine, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Obviously”

“It’s that…that…Sebastian. He’s been trying to come between us since the moment the two of you met.”

“And yet for some reason I chose you every time. But that was never enough, was it? Not when I transferred to McKinley, not when you were texting Chandler, not when I stayed at McKinley when you left, not when you forgot about me when you swore again and again you wouldn’t…”

“What about when I forgave you for cheating on me?”

“Did I really cheat if we were only technically together because neither of us had the balls to officially say it was over?” Wow! That epiphany was cathartic.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I am finally, finally, done being in a relationship where everything is my fault. I’m done constantly apologizing or not doing something because the person who is supposed to be my equal, my partner, would get upset.”

“Blaine…”

“Someone once told me this was the life I chose for myself. As of now, I’m choosing a new path…one without you. Don’t call or come over or talk to me at NYADA. However, against my better judgement, I will talk to Annabelle, but I’d prepare for the worst.”

“How the hell am I supposed to prepare for a $1million fine?”

“I’d start by keeping my mouth shut. Now get the hell out of my house, and my life!”

2 HOURS LATER…PARIS, FRANCE

*knock…knock…knock…knock*

“Sebastian!”

*knock…knock…knock…knock*

“Bas!”

*knock…knock…knock…knock*

“Open the damn door! I know you were at McKinley! I saw you!”

How could he have done something so stupid?!

He’d managed to keep his return to Westerville secret. Only two people outside of the lawyers knew, and he trusted them. He was staying at his parents’ house because no one, NO ONE, would consider for even one second, looking for him there. Of course, he wouldn’t be if they were. It was a good thing the state could schedule his deposition around Xavier and Marie’s annual trip to Cabo. It helped he learned to gerrymander the security system from all those times he sneaked in and out to go to Scandals. His parents were also technologically challenged (idiots) and didn’t bother to change any of the codes in the months he’d been gone. All that work and then he had to do something stupid.

But when it came to Blaine Anderson, he was always doing something stupid.

He put the system on pause, turned on the lights and ran down the stairs to the front doors. When he opened them a gush of wind and pounding rain hit him despite the massive awning covering the entrance.

For some reason Blaine had moved back out into the downpour. Maybe it dawned on him Xavier could have been the one to answer. That would have been a nightmare. “You shouldn’t be here!” he yelled due to the deafening roar of the Spring storm.

“I saw you! You were there!”

“Go home, Blaine.”

“Not until you admit you were at McKinley when we were released from lockdown.”

“So, what if I was? It doesn’t change anything.”

“I’m standing in your parent’s driveway, at 1AM, in a downpour, talking to you for the first time in months with all the gel washed from my hair and my cheerleading uniform plastered to my body in ways I don’t want to think about. It changes everything!”

“No, it doesn’t! Go back to the life you chose, and I’ll go back to forgetting Blaine Anderson ever existed!”

Sebastian shook himself awake from the beginning of the dream he’d had every night for a year, in disbelief he dozed off in the first place. Yes, his body was screwed up from the time change, but he’d drank almost a gallon (no exaggeration) of coffee since his arrival and this chair in his grandmother’s hospital room was the most uncomfortable thing he’d ever sat on.

With all the money Nana donated to the place over the years, you’d think at some point they would have bought comfortable chairs for waiting family members. He’d have to have a chat with the hospital administrators when they made their morning pilgrimage to kiss Nana’s (and his, but mostly Nana’s) ass. Better yet, he’d let Aunt June screw with them. She owed him big time.

He had more pressing issues.

First things first, he had to meet with Château sur la colline’s security and find out how the hell his parents got onto the property, let alone in the house. Although he had yet to hear the full story, he was sure they played a part in Nana’s fall.

And then there were the texts from the person who was supposed to be taking care of whatever mess he made leaving NYC so abruptly. It was supposed to be whatever business mess. THAT is her job. But noooo! The woman found a way to get involved in his personal life.

From Satan (Annabelle): Good news and bad news…starting with bad😡 But I don’t think it’s bad 😊 From Satan (Annabelle): Blaine knows you’re Sir Knight From Satan (Annabelle): Guess I should have started with I knew since the cronut basket Blaine Anderson was Prince Charming…my bad. 🤷‍♀️ From Satan (Annabelle): Also, Kurt Hummel knows you’re Sir Knight. Don’t’ worry, got a meeting with Anna Wintour in an hour. Not just concerning Hummel. Learned from a friend all Vogue employees need reminder NDAs are no joke. I’ll tell you the whole story when I get to Paris on Monday. From Satan (Annabelle): Don’t worry your pretty head. It’ll be fine From Satan (Annabelle): And the good new? Blaine’s friend Santana is H..O..T…HOT!🔥🔥🔥

His Satan met Blaine’s Satan? Like he didn’t have enough shit to deal with!!!

From Satan (Annabelle): One more thing. The studio loves the look of Château sur la colline for Andrew’s boarding school. If it works out you could do the first 8 weeks of filming from your own home…and they are super motivated to make this work.

Ok, maybe Annabelle wasn’t that bad.

“My darling boy”

Sebastian immediately sat his phone down and moved his chair closer to his grandmother’s bedside. “Do you need the nurse? Something for pain?” Even though he was asking the questions he had already pressed the call button.

“No” Juliette told him but the wince she made when she barely moved told him otherwise. “We haven’t had the chance to talk since you arrived.”

“You were a little busy having your hip replaced.”

“Sebastian…”

“I’m not going anywhere. We can talk in the morning.”

“Then you should be home in your bed getting a proper night’s sleep.”

“Hey, I’m here to take care of you for once, not the other way around.” At that moment, the nurse came in to check Juliette’s incisions and, despite her protests, give her her medications, which included a pain pill. Once she was settled, he returned to his previous spot, happy to see the drugs were already taking over. “Go back to sleep. Like I said, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Darling boy, I will be fine. Go sleep in your bed.”

“Nana…”

“I know you better than you know yourself, which is how I know there are at least two armed guards outside my door, and at least two more guarding the main entrance. No one is getting in here.”

“Technically, they aren't armed, but only because it's against the law for anyone other than the police to have a gun in a hospital. However, they are armed in the sense that all 10, not 4, are black belt level 7 or above in Krav Maga. Don't tell me it's too much…”

Juliette took his hand in hers and gave him the smile that always made him feel like he was the most special person in the world. “Sebastian Alexander Smythe, this is not your fault. You have no more control over my daughter and son-in-law than I do.”

“But I should have been here. When I left Dalton and moved home, I promised I would never leave again, except, you know that one time I had to go back to Ohio.

“If you hadn't gone to NYC, I would have never forgiven you. You were offered the opportunity of a lifetime. I cannot wait until the time I am able to tell all my friends My Darling Sebastian is going to be a movie star.”

Leave it to this wonderful, amazing woman to turn the subject back to him. He was always her number one priority. When he first realized he was gay he debated with himself if he truly preferred guys or if he knew he would never find a woman as perfect as Juliette Marie Alexander-Dumas.

It sounds stupid now, but he was 12. 12 year-olds are stupid.

As much as he wanted to find out if his parents were behind his grandmother’s fall, this wasn’t the time. “You don’t know that, Nana.”

“Are you still worried the public will not react well to an openly gay actor portraying James Bond’s son?"

"A little. Thank god my asshole…sorry, my jerk father’s father was British so the studio can spin any he’s not British complaints into he’s ¼ British."

"Will your character be gay?”

“Andrew won’t be homosexual, but not straight either. He considers himself fluid as far as his sexuality is concerned.”

“Did you know this when you accepted the role?”

“They told me upfront they wanted to do this. The only problem I had was I thought the studio was keeping everything secret to figure out how to address my sexuality when they were figuring out how to address Andrew’s.”

“Have they decided?”

“Yes, and we were supposed to have a meeting to discuss it today but something more important came up.” Sebastian leaned down and gave Juliette a kiss on her cheek, happy to see how heavy her eyes were getting. “I do know my one sex scene is with my primary co-star, an actress named Hailee Steinfeld. My ex hasn’t been cast yet but will be a guy named Taylor. He’s not only the one guy Andrew was ever attracted to but the only person he’s ever loved.”

“Like you and your Blaine.”

“But what if I chose a different path? Today I spent hours curled up in myself, hiding under a piano, afraid to talk. You want to know why? Artie tried to get us to make video messages to loved ones but the only person I wanted to make one for was you!”

“Blaine, please, don’t do this!”

“Fine, I’ll stop if you can look me in the eyes and tell me all the chemistry between us last year, which I foolishly denied, wasn’t real. Tell me what’s happening between the two of us right now isn’t real!”

He walked out into the storm until they were mere inches apart. “Go home, Blaine.”

“No”

The next thing he knew Blaine’s lips were on his and he was a willing participant in the movie cliché of a big emotional first kiss in a driving rainstorm

“He was never my Blaine.” Sebastian was relieved the drugs seemed to have done their magic or else his extremely perceptive grandmother would’ve noticed the melancholy behind his words.

He should’ve known better.

“He has always been your Blaine. He is your soul mate, my darling boy.”

MEANWHILE…BACK IN NYC

When Santana entered Blaineland she was ecstatic to see the Boy Wonder stretched out on one of the insanely comfortable couches in the lounge, not locked in the studio singing a song of lost love and heartbreak.

She knew Kurt would be gone. Upon learning what Ray and his friends from the restaurant had to say, Annabelle called her boss. By the time they were done eating she had a message from him to head over to Vogue. Anna Wintour (not Isabelle Wright) was on the warpath and called a return to the office at once or I will consider it your immediate resignation meeting of the entire Men’s Wear Division.

Damn, to be a fly on a wall during that meeting. Or better yet, the one behind closed doors Kurt didn’t know was coming.

She pulled open the sliding door to the lounge and heard a song coming through the speakers she hadn’t heard before. Blaine usually shared what he was working on, asking for opinions.

I've spent all of the love I saved We were always a losing game Small town boy in a big arcade I got addicted to a losing game

Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh All I know, all I know Loving you is a losing game

How many pennies in the slot? Givin' us up didn't take a lot I saw the end 'fore it begun Still, I carried, I carried, I carried on

Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh All I know, all I know Loving you is a losing game

I don't need your games, game over

I’m getting off this rollercoaster

“Hey!” Santana snapped out of her thoughts to see a wide-eyed, smiling Blaine pointing at the bags she was carrying. “Is that my dinner? I’m starving!”

“Oh, yeah, here” she said while handing him the first bag. “I’m sure it’s still hot since Antonio knew it was for you, but I’ll heat it up if it’s not. Where’s Kurt?” Yes, she knew, but it would’ve seemed odd if she didn’t ask.

“No longer my concern” Blaine answered before taking a bite of his Stromboli which was immediately followed by sounds similar to those in pornos. “So damn good!”

🎉🎉🎉ABOUT FUCKING TIME!!!🎉🎉🎉

She wasn’t heartless. Break ups hurt! But Klaine should have ended when Kurt left Dalton.

No, after Kurt graduated. They all knew (even if they’d never admit it) after Rachel’s suspension, Blaine was the only reason the New Directions beat the TroubleTones at Sectionals. If the TroubleTones won there wouldn’t have been a merger. No merger, no National Championship.

No, if Klaine split when Kurt graduated, there’d be no Blam, and those two nerds belonged together. They were like platonic soulmates.

Sucked for Blaine and his actual soulmate, Sebastian (not going to lie…still a bit of a mindfuck), but they’re most likely in a right person/wrong time loop. Their problem was finding the right time.

“Santana, earth to Santana. What’s in the other bag?”

Shit! How long had she zoned out? “It’s a gift for you from Annabelle.” She pulled a six pack of high-end beer out of the bag. “A thank you for sending Sir Knight that bottle of booze with the Cronuts. She had no idea Courvoisier in his coffee was one of Smythe’s favorite things. Made him less grouchy in the mornings.”

“Glad to be of service. Why don’t I get a couple of frosted mugs out of the ice cream freezer in the concession stand? The ones we used for ice cream floats last weekend?”

“Let me do it while you finish scarfing down your dinner. We can toast to the end of Klaine. Once and for all?”

Blaine sighed but didn’t appear to be distraught by what happened. “Yeah, this time it’s for good. Kurt crossed a line I won’t forgive. And no, I’m not telling you. Or Sam, so don’t think you’ll wait and get it out of him.”

“Whatever, but I’m bringing back popcorn because you and I are having a nice long chat.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

Santana wasn’t even out of the lounge before her thoughts went into overdrive. What was with the song? Was it the one his professor threatened to fail him for? If it was, the woman is a moron because what she heard was better than anything on radio.

And Blaine didn’t flinch when she mentioned the Courvoisier. He sent Sebastian’s favorite, very expensive, liquor to Sir Knight? That didn’t make sense. He had to know on a subconscious level the two men were the same person. Right?

This was no longer about solving a mystery, assisting with the inevitable downfall of Klaine or unofficially gathering information for her bosses. She was genuinely worried about Blaine falling back into depression (despite his current mood saying otherwise). What she needed to do was get Blaine to trust her beyond what they’d been building these past few weeks so he’ll let her in. She had a plan, not one she was happy with, but a plan none the less.

But first, there was some pressing business to attend to. From what Annabelle told her, Kurt was going to catch hell for his earlier tantrum. Not $1 million hell, but hell all the same with a firm warning next time the NDA would be enforced. While that was fine for Vogue and the Sebastian end of this mess, it didn’t mean Hummel couldn’t talk shit at NYADA. Paint Blaine as the villain in the breakup like the first time.

Fortunately, she had a contact at NYADA. One she made when she needed help exposing the not drug dealer but so much better…I mean worse. They hadn’t talked, which of course meant hooked up, in a while. Still, Santana was certain her former booty call would want in on this.

From Santana: I could use some help. It’s not Berry this time but Hummel.

Not even 30 seconds later

From Cassie J: Just tell me what to do, Hot Stuff. All I ask is you make it hurt. That guy is an asshole

From Santana: Thought I’d let you dole out your own special brand of punishment. Be creative

From Cassie J: 😈😈😈 You do owe me for not filming Brody getting his face punched in

By the time she returned, Blaine was done eating. All was forgiven for her taking so long when he saw the large pile of candy on the tray with the mugs and popcorn. “Yes!” he cheered as he grabbed one of the buckets of popcorn and dumped two boxes of chocolate covered raisins into it.

“Thought we’d be nice and get rid of the candy before Trouty started his conditioning program for Magic Mike…and that’s gross” Santana told him while handing him his mug of beer.

“Take it back!”

“Would you prefer disgusting? Horrible? Yucky?”

“Stop!” Blaine hugged his bucket to his chest “Don’t listen to the mean food snob. You are delicious and heavenly and yummy.”

“And you my friend are a weirdo.”

“Awww, thanks for the compliment.” He also responded with both a stuck-out tongue and a middle finger.

“You seem awfully perky for a guy who ended a 3 year on/off relationship 2 hours ago. Does this mean ice cream and a Notebook marathon won't be necessary?” Something she said rattled her newly single friend, but he quickly recovered. “Sure you’re ok?”

“I'm great. Maybe ice cream later but it’s a big fat NO on The Notebook.”

She'd forgotten Hummel's choices for movie night were always either Moulin Rouge or The Notebook. OOPS...big, big OOPS. Time to change the subject. "Ready to talk?”

“No”

“Too bad, but you’ll be happy to hear I don’t want to talk about your telenovela worthy love life. I want to talk about me.”

"The notoriously private Santana Lopez wants to share with little old me? Or maybe, (air quotes) talk is code for gush over how gorgeous Annabelle is. I might be gay but I ain’t blind.”

“You also kiss Rachel Berry when you’re drunk, so can I get this out while we’re still on our first beers?” Mentioning the memory from the first time they met earned her not one but two middle fingers. She’d never seen the former prep school boy give one and in less than 5 minutes he had flashed her three! Impressive and, for some unknown reason, hilarious.

When their giggling ended, Blaine asked “In all seriousness, what’s going on? Do you want to quit and don’t know how to tell my parents?”

“No!” she said loud enough to startle them both. “I love this job. It’s the best thing to happen to me in a long, long time. It’s…” Santana stopped to take a deep breath. This was so much harder than she anticipated. “I’m not going to apologize, but I want to come clean…

“You and Sam have been trying to prove Sir Knight was Sebastian for the past 2 weeks and my parents asked you to spy on me as one of your unofficial duties?”

Well, fuck!!! “You knew?”

“Of course, I knew. I’m NightBird. I told you guys multiple times to stop trying to prove Sir Knight was Sebastian. Remember? You two should be embarrassed by how pathetically bad you were at being discrete. Right now, I can’t bring myself to call Sam the Blond Chameleon. And I don’t know what superhero name he gave you, but it should be the Detectable Detective.”

“That’s a terrible name!”

“There’s a push pin board full of 3x5 cards on the other side of your giant dry erase calendar in the office. How do I know? You were constantly leaving the door open! Next time you’re gonna spy on me at least make it challenging. As far as my parents are concerned, when Mom went from calling every other hour to every other day, it wasn’t hard to figure out.”

“But…”

“My mother’s calls weren’t only to add shit to her To Do List. She always, not-so-subtly, tried to sneak in questions about school and Kurt and June and my Showcase…and so on and so on. When my parents hired you, and Mom’s calls dropped off? What other excuse was there?” Blaine put down his popcorn to high-five himself. “NightBird for the win!”

“I repeat, you…are…a…weirdo but I suppose the lovable kind. And your mom? She and your dad are worried about you. The week they were here, you were…I don’t know the word. Discombobulated, maybe?”

“Good word.”

“Thanks. Don’t be upset with them. They never pushed, but to be fair, I told them several times I needed more information before I would be comfortable sharing something. I did tell them Kurt said you had a bad meeting with your songwriting professor right before they arrived.”

“Bad is nowhere close to describing that catastrophe.”

“Can I ask a question?”

“I thought we were supposed to talk about you?”

“We will…after my question. Was the song playing when I came home…”

“It was.”

“Then your professor is out of her fucking mind if she threatened to fail you. Although, we heard this from Hummel and I’m not accepting anything out of his mouth as truth for the foreseeable future.”

“Kurt was telling the truth. And Katie didn’t threaten to fail me because she didn’t like the song. Tana, NYADA is a college. In college, professors assign projects on which students are graded. A major part of the grade is how well the professor’s directions/instructions are followed. I knew my song wasn’t what Katie asked for, but I brought it to her anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because writer’s block is a bitch.”

“What did she want?”

“A love song.”

Really? A love song? Weren’t 99% of songs love songs? How hard could it be? “What I heard was a love song…technically.”

“Katie’s description was cry for help to get out of a toxic relationship. She wanted Hallmark Valentine’s Day. And as simple as write a love song sounds, I haven’t been able to write one all year.”

Ok, scratch her previous thoughts. “Maybe you’re not a love song writer. Lots of songs…hey! Loser Like Me isn’t a love song.”

“Last Spring, while Katie liked all the songs I submitted during my audition, the one she loved, and made me the first Freshman accepted to the NYADA Advanced Songwriter’s Workshop, was a love song. Not Hallmark Valentine’s Day, but a love song.” Without prompting, Blaine grabbed his tablet and a song began playing through the speakers.

He drowns in his dreams An exquisite extreme, I know He's as damned as he seems But more heaven than my heart can hold

And if I try to save him My whole world could cave in It just ain't right No, it just ain't right

Oh and when I don't know I don't know what he's after But he's so beautiful Such a beautiful disaster

But if we could hold on Through both the tears and the laughter Would it be beautiful? Or just another beautiful disaster?

He's magic and myth As strong as what I believe A tragedy with More damage than a soul should see But do I try to change him When it’s so hard not to blame him

Or do I hold on tight Baby, hold me tight

He ended it there. “It’s not the whole song but…” His melancholy expression was back. “You and Katie are the only people I’ve ever shared this with.”

Santana was blown away by both Blaine’s admission and the song itself. “Two questions, then I promise on my one and only pair of Jimmy Choos, no more. You submitted this for your NYADA audition last year…Spring of your Senior year?”

“Yes”

“When did you write it?”

Without hesitation he answered, “Three days after I had eye surgery.”

Holy shit, you wrote a love song for Sebastian Smythe less than a week after he nearly blinded you? and a thousand other questions popped into her head, but she was keeping her promise. “I’ll get us each another beer and fresh mug. If you want to change into something more comfortable, do it quick. However, we’re calling Trouty before the fun begins. He was insufferable when Annabelle confirmed he was right about Sir Knight. NightBird needs to bring his ass down a peg or two.”

ACROSS TOWN

The sound of the loft’s door closing gave Kurt the first moment of peace he’d felt all day. How could his entire life crumble in less than 12 hours?

He and Blaine had the worst fight they’d ever had. Then he was kicked out of the brownstone and before he’d even made it to the subway, he received an email from Vogue announcing an emergency meeting. Attached was a note instructing him to first report to Isabelle’s office. His response was “Oh shit, this is going to be baaaaaad.”

Underestimation of the century

Isabelle told him (actually yelled) the company (meaning Anna Wintour) was informed he breeched his NDA and the only reason he hadn’t been fired was Sebastian’s management wanted to use him as an example. She also explained (while still yelling) how when she realized the model for the photoshoot was his high school nemesis, she’d wholeheartedly agreed to exclude him SO SHIT LIKE THIS DIDN’T HAPPEN!!!!!

Then…as his quote/unquote punishment, the bitch from Blaine’s basement, the Meerkat’s manager’s assistant, forced him to beg her not enforce the $1 million NDA…in front of the entire Men’s Wear Division! Following his humiliation, the rest of the staff was informed Vogue was aware of other leakers. They were currently in the process of positively identifying the culprits.

It helped to know he wasn’t the only one in trouble.

But then…he was escorted back to Isabelle’s office for a video meeting with Carmen Thibodeaux of all people.

WTF???

June Dolloway called her (from France?!) The influential donor demanded proof the school was teaching the importance of confidentiality, especially for big budget projects, as part of their curriculum. If proof couldn’t be produced within one week, she’d find a new outlet for her charitable donations. While Carmen had no idea what June’s barely vailed threat related to, she was aware he was the catalyst behind it. Meaning, if she received another call from Blaine’s former mentor, he’d be expelled. Like with Vogue, this was his one and only warning.

“Kurt! Kurt! Damn it, listen to me! Why did I, your best friend and roommate, find out Blaine dumped you from the NYADA’s gossip blogs? Also, the reason he hasn’t been in classes all week is because he quit school to join June in Paris? I though he was excused from classes for the anniversary of the shooting at McKinley. And why won’t Blaine answer my calls or texts? My phone has been blowing up for hours with people wanting details!”

“Slow down. What are you talking about?”

Rachel held her tablet in front of his face. “See for yourself.”

As Kurt began to scroll, he felt his knees buckle. Fortunately, he was able to lean back against the door and slide to the floor before he collapsed. While Blaine might have been angry, but he wouldn’t do something this cruel. “Where are they getting this bullshit?”

“Every blog cites their source as a reliable faculty member. If this was about me, I’d guess Cassie July, but I think she likes you…or at least tolerates you.”

“We’ve got to find a way to…to…” Kurt’s train of thought screeched to a halt when he realized the majority of comments congratulated Blaine on moving to Paris as well as ridding yourself of a jealous and bitter (ex) boyfriend. “They’re lying!”

“Blaine didn’t dump you? Or quit NYADA? Or is moving to Paris? All of them? Some of them? Any of them? Give me something to work with.”

Kurt took a moment to mentally outline the day’s events. While Vogue and NYADA were his priorities, they wouldn’t be Rachel’s. “Yes, Blaine and I fought but it was the Me…” he snapped his jaw shut to adjust his wording. Then it dawned on him. There was no way he could explain his side to Rachel, or anyone, without mentioning Sebastian or Sir Knight.

And if he mentioned Sebastian or Sir Knight, he'd be expelled from NYADA, lose his job and made to pay a $1 million fine.

“Kurt! Kurt! Damn it, listen to me!”

Didn’t she screech those exact words a couple of minutes ago? “What now?”

“You didn’t hear our phones going off?”

“What is it? More vicious rumors?”

“No, even bigger! Every day next week all NYADA students are required to attend seminars on both professionalism and legal issues in the entertainment industry. Classes are canceled tomorrow so the administration can prepare faculty and staff. This makes no sense.”

Oh no, it made perfect sense. Something else he couldn’t tell his bestie.

“I don’t know any more than you do, Rach. I am thankful classes are canceled tomorrow. It gives me time to find out what the hell is going on with these blogs.”

It also gave him time to think of a way to get back into his boyfriend’s good graces. If he could, Blaine could charm Carmen, June, Smythe’s Bitch, Isabelle and probably even Anna Wintour into dropping all the expulsion, firing and $1 million threats. He could also put an end to all the ridiculous rumors on those stupid blogs. They’d have to believe the man himself over some supposedly reliable source.

It shouldn’t be that hard to win Blaine back…again. They were Klaine, future husbands and soulmates. He just needed a plan…something big. No, it had to be HUGE.

And he had the perfect idea.

RETURNING TO THE BROWNSTONE

A quick call to Sam turned into moving to the theater and hooking up Santana’s phone to the projector. Besides NightBird’s analysis of the mistakes Blond Chameleon made during the Sir Knight investigation (which shouldn’t matter because he was right), and Blaine’s play-by-play of his breakup with Kurt, they also spent time listening to Stevie and Stacy describing, in great detail, what they were doing for their birthday party on Saturday. The twins also insisted on giving their suggestions for Santana’s superhero name after she scoffed at Blam’s recommendations.

She rejected (albeit much nicer) theirs as well but admitted she kind of liked Vicious Vixen. When Blaine told her it sounded like a villain’s name, she liked it even more.

They were ready to sign off when it happened. Blaine turned his phone back on and it began to ping like crazy. He had 127 unanswered texts and his voicemail was full. Every single attempt at contacting him came from someone he knew at NYADA. He found a text from Rachel and HOLY SHIT!

“Why would all these blogs say I quit NYADA and am moving to Paris?”

Sam laughed at his best friend’s question. “I’d be more concerned how they know you dumped Kurt. Wait a minute…Satan, you’re awfully quiet.”

“Why are you calling me Satan…Lips?”

“Because I can see the little devils sitting on your shoulders.”

Blaine turned to face her and noticed a snarky smile beginning to form. A smile so familiar but not from his present company. “What did you do, Satan?”

“Hey, I was helping you Blainers. I, or someone I know at NYADA, got your side of the story out there first. And because of my brilliance, and Annabelle raining hell down on Vogue, especially Hummel, he can’t defend himself without mentioning Smythe. Of course, he could lie or…” Blaine hugged her so tight it nearly knocked the wind out of her.

Sam excused himself and ended the video chat. He’d get the rest of the story later.

When they separated and stretched out in the recliners, Blaine maintained contact by taking her hand in his and resting them on the joint arm rest. “Thank you” he said just loud enough for Santana to hear.

“No problem, Kid.”

Blaine let out something between a snort and a chuckle. “Sometimes Cooper calls me Kid. It’s one of his least annoying nicknames for me.”

“I’m sorry. I know you and your brother…”

“We tried but there’s too much…much…yeah, we tried. Or at least I did. And I didn’t mind when you said it. It was kind of endearing, just don’t make it a habit.”

“You do realize I will now call you Kid as much as I call Sam Trouty?”

“Duh.” Silence crept in, neither of them knowing how to transition their conversation until Blaine said “If you want to go to bed and continue this tomorrow evening…”

“No, I want to tell you today but if you’re tired…”

“You really think my OCD brain is going to shut down and let me sleep after everything that happened to me today? I made the suggestion because you have a long day tomorrow. Aren’t the contractors and Habitat for Humanity showing up at 9AM? It’s later than you think.”

Santana reached for her phone and grimaced when she saw the time. Her original plan was to be asleep by now, but she knew if she didn’t get out what she needed to say before she and Blaine went their separate ways, she wouldn’t do it. And if she didn’t open up to Blaine, the chances of him opening up to her were zero.

She turned to face the blank screen. The last thing she needed was Blaine’s damn puppy-dog eyes. “You remember when I came out and I told everyone my parents were ok with it then I told my Abuela and she…wasn’t?”

“Yes”

“Well, my father wasn’t as ok as my mom or I believed. Over time my Abuela, his mother, was able to bring him to her side.”

“Oh, Santana…”

“Don’t…I’ve got to get this all out.” Blaine squeezed her hand as a sign he understood. “My mom gave me money at graduation to help me get a start somewhere outside of Lima. I should’ve taken the hint she thought Kentucky was a bad idea.”

“Every time I came back to visit Britt or hijack a part in Grease from an actual student…someone must have been the Unique’s understudy. Anyway, every time I went back to Lima, my father became more and more distant. It wasn’t until I told my parents I was dropping out of college and moving to NYC that he confronted me about my life choices. When I came back for Schuster’s non-wedding, I was hoping to talk but he told me not to come back.”

“Believe it or not, I grew up in a traditional What the man says goes household. My mom could never stand up to him but I’m pretty sure she knew from the time I learned to talk that one day I’d be able to. It’s why she spent my entire childhood scraping money together to get me out of Lima. But what seemed like a lot of money in Ohio was nothing in NYC. Even with forcing myself on Berry and Hummel for a place to live, and how hard I tried to save, it was gone after a year. What I made at the diner barely covered my share of food and utilities. There was no way I could pay next month's rent."

“Then Yeast-I-Stat asked me to do another commercial. I know I said I’d never do another one after I became a meme with the Yeast in my bagel, not in my muffin line. But when I said I wanted to move out of the loft for my sanity, I didn’t mean to the streets. I talked to Dani about moving in with her, but she said she didn’t think it was a good idea. Guess now I know why. So, I agreed to do the commercial under the condition there were no memeable lines in the script.”

“Next thing I know I’m in a corn field in Iowa reading I’ve got a corn cob and some batteries.”

Blaine sat up so quickly the footstool on his recliner folded down on its own. “You have got to be shitting me! Is this why you were back a week early?”

“No and yes. May I continue?” Blaine returned to his stretched-out position, retaking her hand as his answer to her continue question.

“I left immediately but in doing so I had to pay for my own plane ticket. It left $1.38 in my bank account. When I got home, I dropped off my stuff and went to the diner to try to get a shift as soon as possible. Instead, you know what happened…Dani…the Taylor Swift number…I punched Brenda. What you don’t know is I didn’t quit the diner due to pride. I was told either I quit or they’d call the cops. There wasn’t a choice.”

“On my way back to the loft, I decided to ask Mercedes to let me sleep on the couch for a while. I hadn’t asked before because I assumed there was no room since she had you and Sam crammed into a glorified closet. When I got home, Hummel was screaming about some photoshoot and how he was on his way to see you. I thought Great, I can talk to Mercedes but instead she was gone. Your parents had bought the brownstone…yay!...but were enforcing a strict no roommates rule…shit!”

“Then we found Blaineland so your parents flew out the next day. And for some reason, your mom and I clicked. She kept adding to her list and I knew immediately what she wanted and how she wanted it done. And then Sammy got Magic Mike and you were all pouty…because of your songwriting class, I get that now. Next thing I know I’m being asked if I want to move in and help out. On top of that, your parents were going to pay me and give me a household budget to run.

“So, not only did I not have to pay rent, but I also didn’t have to pay for utilities, or my cell phone…or food. Blaine, your parents saved me. You…saved…me. I will never be able to properly thank you.” Her eyes were stinging so bad she opened them to let the tears finally flow. In front of her face was a handkerchief. “You carry handkerchiefs?”

“You’ve never noticed I’m a big crybaby?” She turned to him and sure enough, Blaine’s eyes were brimmed in red. “While I appreciate you telling me all this, why did you?”

“I thought if I trusted you my deepest darkest secret, you might find a way to trust me with yours. I know you have secrets between not only you and Sebastian but you and the Warblers…”

“Santana, I can’t. I’m sorry.”

While she thought he might be apprehensive, she never expected a flat-out refusal. “Can I at least ask why?”

“Because for any of it to make sense I would have to tell you another secret. That is the secret I will never tell you. The person involved doesn’t know and it would destroy them if they found out.”

“What do you mean destroy? That doesn’t…”

As much as he didn’t want to say anything else, Blaine knew there was only one way to get Santana to drop it. “It’s Brittany. I’m protecting Brittany. She’s not in danger or anything. It’s just…she’s this precious unicorn, or bi-corn, and I can’t hurt her like that. Santana…”

“I’ll never ask again.” And she meant it.

“Thank you. And to demonstrate I do trust you, you can ask one, and only one, question about Sebastian that doesn’t involve the Warblers. Dig deep my friend, dig deep.”

“Oh Kid, there is only one question. Was he as good in bed as he wanted people to believe?” Blaine folded his arms behind his head and smiled the biggest smile she’d ever seen.

“It was a dark and stormy night….”

“Oh my God! You really did sleep with him?”

“Do you want to hear this or not?”

“Wait, we need more popcorn. I’ll even put chocolate covered raisins in yours.”

NOTES:

I chose Hailee Steinfeld as Sebastian’s co-star because she’s an actress/singer, 5’8’’ tall, has wavy brown hair, expressive eyes and is part Filipino. Sound familiar? I am ignoring the fact she was only 17 at this time and picturing her being around the age of Kate Bishop, her character on Hawkeye.

Arcade: William Douglas, Burr Knox, Duncan De Moor, Joel Nils, Anders Sjoo, Wouter H Hardy 2021

Beautiful Disaster (Kelly Clarkson live version): Matthew Wilder, Rebecca Johnson 2003

I’ve got a corn cob and some batteries is a tribute to Alex Newell’s Tony winning role in the musical Shucked. Congratulations Unique!

This chapter is dedicated to @akfanficlove on AO3. A picture of Grant in A Single Thread of Silver (pulled me to you) inspired me to write Sebastian’s movie role as James Bond’s son. The fic is part of her Seblaine: AKids!-AU Collection. They are all fluff-filled quick reads. I HIGHLY recommend all 10 but If Only is my favorite.

#seblaine fic #blaine anderson #sebastian smythe

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