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he left the bloodstains on the carpet ₪ seblaine

TAGGING: Sebastian Smythe & Blaine Anderson

WHEN: 5 MAR 2020, 1900

WHERE: One of the many UT Gyms

WHAT: One smooth criminal stops to lay down some lines on a sexy fellow student. Both of them fill with tension in a hot moment, however that tension shifts when they realize who exactly they’re flirting with.

BLAINE ANDERSON

Before every workout, Blaine always washed out the tightly held down curls and put away his bow ties. Then it was a tank top, zip up jacket, and shorts. Just like California, Texas always had that crisp air that made joggers unneeded. There was a bit of cold weather every now and then, but he liked to let his skin breathe for once.

Even though the university had several gyms, Blaine always choose the same one. He used his student id to check in and abandon his things in a locker. Walking into the gym, he was typing up his hands. He took his usual position next to the punching bags. He noted that somebody was there and did a small head nod. He knew them from days before. He started to move his arms in a bit of a warm up before peddling his feet. Hoping up and down, he started to get his body warmed up while his friend was just finishing up his own work out.

SEBASTIAN SMYTHE

the thing about sebastian is that he's a man of routines. or rather, the sort of man who plans a routine, follows it for a few days, and then changes it completely to better suit whatever he's got going on that day. but he makes the effort, which some days feels like half the battle. some of it is petulance, a way of thumbing his nose at the strict PT regimens he used to have to follow after the accident; it is, if he's honest, the only reason he still bothers with the gym. ( though picking up hot guys is surely an added bonus. )

he's fresh off the treadmill, 40 minutes of light cardio down and about an hour of weights training to go, when he let's his ennui get the best of him. his eyes dart around the room as he wipes down his equipment, eyes locking onto fists connecting with a punching bag a few stations over. he doesn't recognize the guy — not unusual, given he usually frequents the gym closer to his dorm room, but decides there's no better time than to change that. so he tosses the cloth over his shoulder, approaches like a predator stalking his prey as he comes up from behind. ( in reality, he simply dips his head down to drink from the water fountain ... affording him the opportunity to get a good look at that ass. ) but he's not a creep, so he straightens up and makes his presence known. " nice form. "

BLAINE ANDERSON

Eventually, Blaine high fived his friend and waved him off. Afterward, he put up his hood and continued his warm up. Striking lightly, getting use to the sensation. There was nothing he was particularly angry about today, but he had enough energy for short loud burst. With his body warm, he started one of his usual routine.

Blaine fell in love with Gym culture. Every once and a while, you'd run into that one jackass. Overall, everybody was cool. Blaine found himself talking to some of the regulars after his workouts. Especially if they come talk to him during. So when he felt eyes on him, Blaine didn't stop. He kept hitting, letting the sweet sound of the sand bag vibrate in his ears.

"Thanks." Blaine growled through clinched teeth. He didn't mean it, he was in the moment. He breathed out his next sentence. "Better be, being doing this for years." He got in three more jabs. Left, right, left. Front curls flopped out the front of his hoodie. The last hit was louder than the rest. He breathed out the tightness in his muscles. He leaned onto the punching bag as he reached down to get his water bottle, keeping his face unintentionally hidden from Sebastian. His dark eyes glanced around to the other punching bags. "I'll be off in about five minutes if you want a round." Blaine offered as he took a drink.

SEBASTIAN SMYTHE

the guy's intense, focused on what he's doing, and sebastian respects that. he watches as fists hit the bag, interest in his eyes as he comments. " it shows. impressive. how ... rocky balboa, of you. " he turns away for a moment, goes through the motions of filling his water bottle even though he's already decided to cut his work out off short.

the smirk settles easily when the guy responds, his voice smooth like silk as he responds. " depends. if you're asking if i want a round with the bag ... i think i'll pass. " it's as subtle as a giggle at a funeral but that's sort of his M.O. he sees what he wants and he goes for it. " -- but i was just about to hit the showers, maybe go for a drink. " brows lift, eyes still dancing over the muscles of the mystery man's back. selfishly, he'd be just as happy skipping the drinks and heading straight to dessert ... but he's patient. or can be. ( you have to work for the things you want in life. ) " what do you say, killer ? "

BLAINE ANDERSON

Blaine almost blushed at the compliment. He had to admit, it was nice to get this sort attention. This wasn't the first time that Blaine picked up numbers at the gym. A smile formed on his lips around the water bottle. He finished his sip.

Drinks though? This was new. It took all his might not to whip around to get a look at the man who was flirting with him. Oh that voice, it was so smooth, silky, so sexy. But there was something so familiar about that voice. Especially the use of that word, Killer. "Well, if you need a partner--" He finally turned around and his hoodie fell off his head. Loose curls bounced out and adjusted to the frame of Blaine face. The words got caught in his throat as he finally saw Sebastian's face. "Sebastien." Blaine articulated every syllable of his name carefully. "Sebastian." He repeated with wide eyes.

SEBASTIAN SMYTHE

he'll kick himself later for not waiting to see a face before laying on the charm. he's a sucker for tight muscles and loose curls and apparently they've finally gotten him into trouble. he'd always figured it would happen one day, but he'd never expected to accidentally flirt with his archenemy ( okay, that's a stretch. blaine barely cracks the top five ' worst people he's ever met ' list on a good day ) like something out of a romantic comedy. a meet cute. ugh, he hates everything about this.

" you. " it's almost an accusation, like somehow this is blaine's fault. " you're ... not who i expected. " no way, no how, in a million years would he have imagined that this was what lingered beneath the bowties and excessive amounts of hairgel. the fact that blaine anderson is hot is borderline offensive; it should be a crime. he refrains from saying as much though, he needs to maintain a modicum of self-respect. ( he can bounce back from this. he's a smythe, it's what he does best; spin. ) " so this is what happens when you strip away the hairgel and the sweater vests. " he observes, clicking his tongue against his teeth. " huh. " despite his annoyance, his eyes are still reluctantly glued to the sweat gathering at the hollow of his throat. ( he wonders, with his traitorous mind, how satisfying it would be to push him up against the wall and taste the salt against his skin. so much for self respect. )

BLAINE ANDERSON

Two seconds ago, Sebastian's voice made him trip. The way those golden words had captured him and made him eager. Blaine could feel the high he got whenever he was talking to Sam or another cutie. As he took in those beautiful green eyes, Blaine cursed himself for falling for that irresistible charm. Damn it. How did it get to this point. If Sebastian knew, Blaine knew he wouldn't live this down.

His lips wavered slightly at Sebastian's harsh tone. Now that Blaine was looking at Sebastian clearly, Blaine suddenly became flushed with rage. That way he spoke reminded him of the daunting arguments in class Sebastian's infuriating way of speaking. Surprisingly, that's not what caught him off guard. Sebastian was... hot. Hidden beneath preppy clothes and a smart mouth, there were well defined muscles and lean long legs. Blaine's jaw clinched. His brown eyes danced over Sebastian's body. If it was anybody else, he wouldn't even be wasting his time on drinks.

"Right back at cha." He stretched out neck, gave slight glare and matched Sebastian's tone. "And it looks like you're a big fan, considering five seconds ago you were just asking me out to drinks." The words poured from his mouth as if somebody else were taking over him. The water bottle in Blaine's hand crumpled under the pressure. "Or did you come over here just to tell me that? Because that's a little bit weird to stalking a gym Bas." Blaine hissed Sebastian's name, as if Sebastian were the dark lord.

SEBASTIAN SMYTHE

the fact that blaine's right might be what makes this all the more infuriating. he has him backed into a corner, unable to refute the claims that — yes, he'd clearly liked what he saw. denying that now would simply be an insult to both of their intelligence. ( blaine might get under his skin, but he's no idiot. he can acknowledge that. ) he huffs, jaw clenching as he sucks in a breath. the anger clenches white hot, knuckles in a similar state where they're gripping his water bottle in a deadly fashion. were it not stainless steel, he's sure it would warp under his fingertips. " congratulations. you're attractive. " a pause, deliberate. " when you're not talking. quick, someone get him a medal. " or a muzzle, he thinks dryly.

he sees red at the nickname, something he feels is too personal for blaine to spitting at him; like its a weapon in his arsenal, twisted to inflict pain. ( well two can play at that game. ) " trust me, stalking you is not on my to do list. " he takes a step closer, crowding in on blaine's personal space as his eyes narrow. there's a fire burning in his chest, whether it be the rage or something more, and rather than try to extinguish it — he pours the gasoline and watches it ignite. " it's sebastian. " words are light, but there's an edge to it. " unless we're in bed and you're moaning it. " right inflection, wrong words; because now that's where his head's at, and he knows almost instantly that he's toeing a line he should be wary about crossing.

BLAINE ANDERSON

Blaine felt his body go ridged when he realized he called Sebastian a nickname. What came over him in that moment? The air that came out of his mouth wavered. How did Sebastien have this power over him? To make him stumble. Neck cranked up and a scold on his face, he took in Sebastian’s words. Sebastien though he was attractive? Oh how this made Blaine want to cave to Sebastian. Steal him away into a broom closet to enjoy seven minutes in heaven. A more adult version of that though. Then Sebastian had to ruin it. Send Blaine back to the original reason why Sebastian made him angry. When Sebastien stepped over him, Blaine cranked his neck. He felt every cell in his body. From the tips of his toes, to the fibers in his chest hairs, and to the roots of his hair. Suddenly, Blaine felt his nakedness in front of Sebastian. Instead of cowering away, Blaine leaned his head back more to match those intense eyes. He put on a scold of his own. He let out a brave scoff, knowing the heat of his breathe would reach Sebastian. “Even though you’re hot as hell, never in your wildest dream.” Those words lingered on his lips. At the end, Blaine could feel his heart thumping wildly in his neck. If it weren’t for the height difference, Sebastian could probably felt Blaine heat rising from his skin. “I’ll try to remember that next time.” Blaines brown eyes lingered just a second longer before he ripped his gaze away. He stepped aside and aimed for the door with his chest held high.

SEBASTIAN SMYTHE

he's almost grateful that blaine retreats, leaves him feeling like he's won even if it wasn't a competition, or a fight. has he won though when he's still thinking about him even as he retreats? ( he hates that, a little. hates how he fixates on things, how he can never just let it go. ) the fact that blaine clearly finds him attractive, has said as much and made it abundantly clear, only fuels the fire. " until next time. " he calls out after him, the beginnings of a smirk warming his features. with blaine's back to him, it's likely he won't see the flush to his cheeks. it's good; for the best. on the list of mistakes he'd made this week, he has no intentions of adding hate fucking blaine anderson onto it. no, no thank you. " i'll see you around. in your dreams, i'd bet. " he turns and makes a beeline for the treadmills; weight training will have to wait, he needs to run — burn off whatever's pounding in his veins. ( if he won, why does it still feel like he's fighting? )

BLAINE ANDERSON

Stiff back, head held high, quick legs. It took all of Blaine's control to keep his body from collapsing at the exhaustion of that interaction. He kept this up all the way to his locker room and even beyond the doors of the gym. It wasn't until he got to his car did Blaine finally let a breathe out. *What the hell*? He thought to himself. With the thought he breathed out. Suddenly light headed, as if for the last ten minutes he was all on one breathe. One thing was evident, Sebastian had gotten to him. However, not in the way he wanted.