Chapter Text
“Is this thing on?” Mike Chang, bassist, asked directly to the camera.
“Can I talk now?” Tina Cohen-Chang (no relation), keyboardist, wondered, in a different background, “My kid’s crying in the other room and my husband is doing the same thing in another one so someone better get to the kid if you want me to proceed with this thing,”
“My team is on it, Mrs. Chang,” the interviewer assured her.
“How are you going to be in two places at once though?” Tina asked the interviewer.
“We’ll record my voice over my assistant’s in post production,” the interviewer dismissed, “Now, let’s begin,”
“From where?” Cooper Anderson, lead guitarist, asked far away somewhere in Northern Italy, when the interviewer had long ended the Changs part.
“The beginning,” the interviewer said, composed.
Making Cooper laugh, “This’ll be easy then,”
“This will be a pain in the ass,” Jeff Sterling, drummer, deduced with dread in his house at San Francisco.
Nick Duval, rhythm guitarist, thought the same downstairs in said house’s living room, “Beginning? Individually or collectively?”
“So,” Blaine Anderson, lead singer and songwriter, said to the interviewer at his condo in Manhattan, “Did Sebastian also agree to this?“
Sebastian Smythe, lead singer and songwriter, smiled to the camera, giving his back to the homemade recording studio in his estate at the heart of Paris.
“It all began because of a late night confession,” Cooper admitted, opening his arms, and looking behind him to the flying birds in the distance, the ocean waves roaring peacefully, “Which is crazy to think knowing all we accomplished later on,”
“I’m a queer,” Blaine confessed to his brother in ‘65, which might not sound like a big deal in modern times but it was when the Beatles were about to release their “Rubber Soul” album and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was still alive.
“I know,” Cooper said, tiredly, he’d been hoping for juicy details about last night’s party at Jessie Barton’s house that he wasn’t allowed to crash because his little brother was going, he always wondered what life made of her, but instead was told something he already knew and made peace with years before, “I’ve seen your multicolored bowtie collection grow bigger and wider in your closet since you were two-months-old,”
“You’re- you’re not mad?” Blaine asked him, nervously, he’d been preparing himself for a punch that had never hit his face, he was almost disappointed, he’d been bracing himself emotionally for a bad reaction, but he was glad Coop wasn’t angered in the slightest
“Why would I be?” Cooper retorted, sarcastically, “All I hear is that I get,” he pointed to himself, “More chicks all to myself,” he left Blaine’s bed, “Well, like you could even pull some if you were on my team- Which I doubt,” his back met the door, he laughed, “Night, squirt,”
His way of taking the piss out of Blaine - it awoke something in him, he didn’t know much, but he knew he had to do something about it- He had to prove his brother he could pull a girl just like him, he could do anything Cooper could.
“Of course, I couldn’t do anything Cooper could,” Blaine could say out loud decades later, “Have you seen his family photos from the swinging sixties? Guy was ripped, but I was capricious and scrawny and had a point to get cross- Which ended up working on our favor at the end, didn’t it?” his face fell down, probably remembering the band’s downfall, but then brightened by remembering its beginning.
“Come on, guys,“ he insisted to his Dalton Academy friends the next Monday, “Just think about all the chicks that will come your way,”
Blaine didn’t know it back then, but the boys he was talking to, including himself, were pretty much more invested in their same sex than the opposite.
Nick and Jeff looked at each other, unsure.
The three of them strolled down the Dalton halls in their way to Warblers practice.
“Would it be an a cappella band?” Jeff asked, curiously, “Because, if you haven’t noticed, Blaine, we’re already in an a cappella group,”
“I’m with Jeff on this one,” Nick supported, immediately, “Why would we need another one of those?”
“No,” Blaine denied, rapidly, “This would be different, we’d be a Beatles-level band, we’d be rock stars, which we clearly aren’t at the Warblers,”
The Warblers were popular at Dalton, everyone liked them and their covers revolving mainly around Frank Sinatra songs, but Blaine did crave for more, if he was honest, proving something to Coop was now a sidelined reason, making music people could relate (with his best friends) and vibe to in their rooms like Blaine did when he got lost in his dorm’s four walls and his vinyls.
“Okay, fine,” Jeff declared at last, just before they walked in the library, where Warblers practices were held at, “But only if your brother’s in it to guide us through it,”
That’d been Jeff’s only condition and Blaine would discover later that it was rooted in his teenage crush on Cooper in later years.
“Sure,” Blaine said through gritted-teeth, internally jumping with joy anyway.
“If bottle blond is on board, I’m too,” Nick grinned at Jeff, who hit Nick’s ribcage with his elbow, making him smile, Blaine opened the door, finding dozens of boys wearing Dalton blazers already inside and talking amicably to one another.
“That was pretty much it,” Jeff shrugged to the camera, “I mean, it’s not rocket science, the biggest band in the world in the mid-70’s, that met its rise to fame the year the Beatles broke up for good began thanks to my crush on the Blaine Anderson’s older brother,”
“Jeff likes to take credit because he insists without his consent there would’ve been no band,” Blaine sighed, his hands doing splits on his legs, “But I would’ve find a way to convince them eventually if I said no to Coop or Coop said no to the band, which-”
“I actually said no to the goddamn band,” Cooper crossed his arms, reclining on his chair, “But it was pretty hard to avoid crossing paths with them when they were rehearsing in my home’s garage, also Blaine’s but whatever- It came to the point where I didn’t want to complain about the noise, I wanted to be part of the noise, part of the cause, so I joined- take that, Jeff, you’re not the only one whose consent was crucial,”
“I was an idiot for ever fancying Cooper Anderson, honestly,” Jeff shook his head, a hand on his face, “He’s a dumbass,”
“Where did you meet Nick, Jeff, Cooper and Blaine?” the interviewer asked a silent Sebastian.
“I met Cooper when he caught me balls deep deflowering his little brother- yes, I know you’ll have to censor that- the others though?” Sebastian smiled with a secret, “We met at Dalton,”
It was early spring, just before spring break, when Blaine met Sebastian, a transfer student coming all the way from France to Westerville.
He first heard of him in Chemistry class.
“Hey, dude,” Nick called for his attention a seat away, “I just heard from Jeff that heard from Thad that heard from Jon that heard from Mr. Johnson that heard from the dean that the new kid’s arriving today,”
Blaine narrowed his eyes as he tried to comprehend what he’d just listen, “Wait, French guy? He’s been awaited for months now,” he lighted up, oblivious to Mr. Peters departure, “Why would he finally come to Dalton when we’re already halfway through the school year?”
“That’s what I wonder,” Nick tilted his head closer to Blaine’s ear, “It may have something to do with why he’s been shipped off to some town in the States from grand Paris,”
“In France, I was sort of what you call a ‘wild child’,” Sebastian looked sideways, “That didn’t change at Westerville, as my parents thought it would, I think that was always part of my charm though, always worked in my favor- almost always,”
Sebastian stared right at the camera, troubled, “If it weren’t for Blaine Anderson, who managed to tame me with his handsome voodoo ways,“
“Class,” Mr. Peters called for their attention after his return, but he didn’t return by himself, “meet Sebastian Smythe,”
The boy looked straight out of Blaine’s last night’s wet dream: tall, lithe, freckled, he seemed like a fallen star that’d dropped right into Blaine’s lap, not exactly in that order.
“Nice to meet you all,” Sebastian’s eyes scanned over the room at the preppy boys in navy and red blazers, he had a heavy French accent and Blaine could melt right in the spot.
“I hated them all instantly,” Sebastian said, shrugging, “I just did- I looked for something I liked for minutes but nothing, nada, rien,”
“What about the boy you deflowered later on?” the interviewer asked, amused, skipping their future history, all the crap they made each other go through in the seventies.
Sebastian laughed, “I’m trying to keep my dignity intact over here,” he quieted, “He was the only exception,”
“Sebastian,” Mr. Peters resumed his introduction, as Sebastian’s gaze found Blaine’s figure in the classroom’s second row, “will be joining us for the rest of his junior year, so I hope you’ll make him feel at home all throughout the little time we’ll have the honor of having him, he’s a Smythe, treat him as such,”
Sebastian appeared flattered but worn-out, probably because of his hasty move-in at his dorm just minutes ago and the long trip from France to the States.
“I knew right then,” Blaine narrowed his eyes, looked down at his shoes to not look down at the camera, “That we had our time counted- Thing was, I didn’t give a flying fuck,”
Blaine turned out to be Sebastian’s roommate, which didn’t help their case, it almost felt like fate was shoving them together.
“Um, what are you doing here?” Blaine had asked a laying down Sebastian, and, okay, Blaine couldn’t complain about the sight: Sebastian spread on Blaine’s bed, unmade tie hanging loosely around his neck, two buttons of his white shirt undone, so Blaine had a perfect view of his collarbones, he was reading some newspaper that he’d clearly brought from home if the French on it was to be trusted.
“I bought it this morning,” Sebastian said as he noticed Blaine eyeing the newspaper, “Do you want to read it after I’m done with it?”
That French accent... Blaine was weak, “This is my dorm, you know?” he swallowed.
Sebastian only hummed, pleased.
“I don’t know French,” Blaine admitted, accepting his defeat at the hands of Sebastian’s nonchalant act.
Sebastian closed his newspaper with a single thump, “I could help with that,” he said, suggestive, and Blaine could definitely feel his knees weaken.
“I’ll just- yeah,” Blaine stumbled on the doorstop on his way out as he fled his own dorm, he could see Sebastian’s smirk burning at the back of his mind and his accent in the bottom of his pants.
“He scared the shit out of me,” Blaine confessed to the camera, eyes wide.
“Not the best first impression I’ve ever given,” Sebastian said with modesty, “But, God, I was so tired from the six hour plane I boarded to get there, I just wanted to get laid, I didn’t even care if Blaine was or was not my roommate- but he clearly mistook my flirting as me trying to intimidate him into giving me his dorm keys instead of his [REDACTED],”
“I just don’t understand,” Blaine sat in the dean’s office, “Why me?”
“Why you, Mr. Anderson?” the dean sounded like he could laugh, “May I remind you that you’re the only junior without a roommate since late August due to Mike Chang’s transfer that same month,”
“Yes, but what I mean is that I enjoy my freedom,” Blaine lied, he hated being alone in his dorm, it was the reason why he always invited Nick and Jeff over for mini slumber parties, “I don’t want it to be ripped away,” he actually didn’t trust himself with a suggestive pretty boy like Sebastian, he just couldn’t.
“I’m afraid the decision was made long before this meeting took place, Mr. Anderson,” the dean said as his final verdict, “You may leave,”
Blaine scoffed, then why wasn’t he informed before Sebastian showed up to Dalton out of thin air?
“Alright, it’s been decades, I can spit it out now,” Sebastian started, rolling his eyes, “I may have looked at the sophomore yearbook pictures of my future classmates and eyed a certain one for a little too long- but it’s not my fault that he happened to be the one without a roommate-” he pointed up with one of his fingers, “that was a coincidence,” Cooper would be proud, ”and fate being tricky,”
Blaine crawled back to his dorm, well, their dorm, with his tail hanging between his legs.
“So,” Blaine began before he even fully stepped in, finding Sebastian right where he left him, “Me learning French? You teaching me?”
Sebastian looked up at him, uncrossing his legs, sitting up in Blaine’s bed with his two hands supporting him.
“I only resisted him for, like, three days,” Blaine said, embarrassed.
“I think after the first week,” Sebastian mused, “I began to sleep exclusively in Blaine’s bed, even though we only made out and jerked each other off-”
“Mr. Smythe,”
“What?” Sebastian frowned at the interviewer, “You said we could speak with no filter! It’s the point of this whole thing isn’t it?”
“Career-wise, Mr. Smythe,” the interviewer reminded him, “Meaning with the due professionalism,”
“My bad,” Sebastian apologized, half-heartedly, “But the career part will come much later though,”
“The noises were the worst part,” Jeff said, blankly.
Nick groaned and his head fell back into his couch, “We couldn’t walk anywhere near those two before the kissing sounds began in some hidden corner of the hallways or they sneaked off to the janitor’s closet or their dorm- it’s a miracle they were never caught,”
“The best part was Blaine having someone other than us to spend his time with,” Jeff reasoned, “Sebastian appeared in the exact time he was needed, like some kind of French Superman to Blaine’s sex on a stick Lois,”
“He made a reference to me being Superman and Blaine being Lois, didn’t he?” Sebastian asked, toneless.
Superheroes were the trend back in those days, especially Superman, man was as loved as Jesus.
“Their situationship gave me and Jeff’s relationship its rightful time to flourish,” Nick concluded, seeing the good side of things.
“Okay, enough, horny teenagers out,“ Cooper said, increasingly excited, “The actual main event in,”
They named themselves The Anderson Brothers after the band’s founder and the band’s latest member, Cooper, Blaine’s brother.
“We said nothing about it,” Jeff said, calmly, “but we wanted to,”
“People would think me and Jeff were brothers too,” Nick made a grimace, “Good and bad thing was that it was the sixties so our hidden relationship couldn’t affect that public image,”
“We were bad,” Blaine said without shame, “at first,” he added in case someone would think he meant the band as a whole, “Like, bad,”
They practiced at Blaine and Cooper’s basement every free weekend they had when Blaine, Nick and Jeff were allowed to leave Dalton’s halls and Cooper took his entire week’s breaks from the tire shop he worked with at Lima.
Blaine was a decent lead singer, and no one had opposed him after Cooper tried to take over but couldn’t even reach a simple ‘do’.
But something was missing.
“Okay, take five,” Cooper said, as he took his guitar off him and placed it next to a sweeper.
“We weren’t off-beat again,” Jeff spoke up from behind his drums, “Were we?”
“No, it was great,“ Cooper put two hands on his hips.
Nick laughed, delighted they’d pleased the oldest of them, “Then?” he took off his own guitar.
“I feel like we need more instruments,” Cooper spoke after a while.
“Eh?” Jeff asked, confused.
“He means more people,” Blaine translated the language only he knew how to interpret out of the blazer-wearing members of the band, Coopish, “We need more people, apparently,”
They didn’t need people, they were four and called The Anderson Brothers, and half of them weren’t actually Anderson brothers, and the last time Blaine checked he and Cooper didn’t have more brothers so for them to look for more people not related to them was downright silly to even think about.
“Now, don’t use that tone on me, street smart,” Cooper snapped his fingers, “What about that, huh, that-” Cooper cut himself off and brought a hand to his forehead, thinking, “that European boy you’re always talking about, squirt? Um,” he lighted up, “Christian!”
“Sebastian,” Blaine corrected, brightening at the memory of the boy but exhausted by his brother’s insistence of bringing fresh blood into their band.
Nick and Jeff seemed to share his feelings when Blaine glanced at them to join them in their collective annoyance towards Cooper.
“Didn’t you say he could sing or something?” Cooper brought out a conversation he and Blaine had had back in Sebastian’s first week in town, “You should tell you loverboy to join us,”
Nick and Jeff looked just as puzzled as Blaine felt.
Blaine laughed, maniacally, “Sebastian?”
“I absolutely didn’t want my band life and love life to collide,” Blaine could say, “so the sole suggestion was baffling to me- now it’s just funny considering what happened later on,”
“When I heard he didn’t jump in joy at the opportunity of having me in the band in the mid sixties in the mid eighties,” Sebastian smiled with a hand on his chin, probably confused himself why something that happened two decades before had angered him so much, “Boy, was I upset, pretty sure it made a headline: ”Anderson and Smythe: The New Age Lennon and McCartney have fallen out grace with each other for the past decade or so and here’s why”, I liked the comparison, at least,”
“That article spread like fire,” Nick recalled, his hands imitating the explosion of a nuclear bomb, “Blaine didn’t talk to Sebastian for five years because of it,”
“What can I say?” Blaine tilted his head, “I thought he’d given in the inside scoop to the The Sun of all newspapers, considering that, a normal person would’ve let that go, but-” he shrugged.
The idea of inviting Sebastian to join the band stayed in the inside of Blaine’s mind when he, Nick and Jeff returned to Dalton in Nick’s car on Sunday night.
So when he found Sebastian waiting for him in their dorm, Blaine knew he at least had to ask, to feed his own curiosity and for hypothetical, totally band-related reasons.
“Hey,” Sebastian greeted, casual, standing up and walking towards him, his hands didn’t waste a second and found the waistband of Blaine’s jeans, “You look tired, what if I ease you up a bit?” he asked, looking a moment away from kneeling down and it was quite the view to have after a long day of practice, but Blaine resisted.
He grabbed Sebastian by his shoulders, kissing him to keep him place and because he’d really had missed him, two days without seeing him were always more than Blaine could take.
“I was just thinking about you,” Sebastian said between kisses, his fingers gripping Blaine’s thighs.
“Yeah?” Blaine asked as Sebastian kissed his cheek, so sweet, tasting like lemonade, Sebastian probably had some before bed.
Lemonade, that would make a great song title, Blaine thought, he’d save it for later, like he did all his ideas, and with Sebastian his inspiration always increased, as if Blaine’s feelings towards Sebastian were songs waiting to be written.
“Yeah,” Sebastian moaned in Blaine’s neck, sending hot shivers down his spine, Blaine’s hands couldn’t help but climb to Sebastian’s back under his nightshirt and touch.
“What were you thinking about?” Blaine forgot all about the band and focused on Sebastian’s body, he would actually write and title a song that in the early nineties, to Sebastian’s ego’s joy, “Tell me,” Blaine pleaded him.
“About how I wished-” Sebastian took a deep breath, Blaine’s mouth met his jaw, “My hand wrapped around me was yours instead-” Blaine quickly followed and his right hand began to take off Sebastian’s belt, “Yes, like that,” Sebastian’s hand sank into Blaine’s shoulders then his back muscles, Blaine stroked his length a little sloppily, he’d only done this a handful (pun intended) of times before, all to Sebastian, who’d guided him through his first, as he was way more experienced than Blaine was in that department.
“I taught him everything he knows,” Sebastian would comment, proudly, on every music interview he gave in their band’s peak when the interviewers, reporters or show hosts would ask him about Blaine, he stopped when the band broke up.
Before Sebastian could come, he lead Blaine into their, now shared even when there was another one, bed, where he taught Blaine how to open him up so he could, to shorten it, fuck him senseless into the mattress they slept in every night, cuddled up and keeping the other warm, but actually fucking Sebastian on it felt different for Blaine, but not bad, not bad at all, he saw stars throughout all of it and the way Sebastian’s head fell into the pillows over and over and his lips parted in two, letting out filthy, harmonious noises out, didn’t help him fall back to Earth.
Blaine felt like he was the first man to walk in the moon (apologies to Neil Armstrong), with the insides of Sebastian’s long legs in his hands, he looked back and saw how Sebastian still had his shoes in as his legs bobbed relentlessly, keeping their rhythm steady, it was a huge turn on for his teenage self.
Blaine got lost in it, completely.
“Fear not,” Blaine put his palms up, “Before you egg my home and send muggers after me, I did ask him to join our band the morning after,”
“He did ask me to join after the first time we-” Sebastian chose to tone down after the look the interviewer sent him, “made love, could be said, but-”
“He said no,” Blaine still was mad about it even decades and decades later, “Like I just [REDACTED] him into the mattress and he said no,”
“It was a good [REDACTED],“ Sebastian could admit, “The best I ever had until then, but don’t tell him that, and don’t throw rocks at his condo’s windows because he didn’t get me to join the band at first- been there, done that, Anderson will not like it, he’ll call the cops on you, don’t do it,”
“Great thing was that decades letter after the initial rejection,” Blaine laughed, “I did get my payback after he gave me a good reason to get a restraining order against him,”
“Not my proudest moment,” Sebastian pursed his lips.
“But, why?” Blaine had asked after Sebastian said a simple “No,” “I mean, we would get to see each other on weekends, I would like that, you would like that too, right?”
Sebastian tilted his head, sunshine passing through the window and finding his face, Blaine felt the need to kiss his tiny, numerous birthmarks one at a time, “Yeah, I would, but-”
“But?“ Blaine ignored the butterflies Sebastian’s accent caused even though he was mad at him, when Sebastian lost his French accent in later years was the day that he died but was reborn after discovering Sebastian gained it back after he returned to living full-time in France.
“Blaine-” Sebastian’s hands found Blaine’s naked chest, feeling his heart beating, fast, “God, you’re heart’s racing,”
“Don’t change the subject,” Blaine complained, grumpy.
“I’m not,” Sebastian sounded Blaine’s the heartbeat would help his point get crossed, “Is your heart racing because of me?”
Blaine scoffed, of course he would suppose that, “What do you think?” he asked, sarcastically.
“Sebastian later used Blaine’s heartbeat for one of his solo singles,” Jeff recited, “Without his permission of course, it sold millions of copies though and, as he was credited, Blaine got royalties off it,”
“I learned to find it romantic,” Blaine sincered himself, “Still mad he didn’t ask me for my permission first though,”
“The cheesiest thing I’ve or will ever done and do,” Sebastian said in one go, “But at least, it made him talk to me face to face for the first time in years,”
“Booyah,” Sebastian murmured, triumphantly, a fist bursting into a little explosion.
“You should write a book guide on how to romance decade old love interests,” the interviewer suggested.
“Damn right I should,” Sebastian agreed, giving it a thought, “Maybe after my next album is out- now insert a cool commercial of it after that last sentence,” the editors did in post-production, “Thanks,” Sebastian sang.
“You do know my time here is limited, right?” Sebastian asked Blaine, back when they’d just shared their first time together, “That I’ll be gone by the end of the school year, never to be seen again,”
“I know,” Blaine knew what he meant now, he was being letting down easy, “It was stupid to ask you to, I’m so embarrassed,”
“Hey, hey,” Sebastian pulled Blaine’s chin up so his green eyes met his hazel ones, “I think it’s enchanting you even considered me, that you think I’d be good enough to lead your band next to you,”
It was tempting, Blaine admitted, Sebastian was a tempter, “Are we still good?” it was a silly question to ask when they were still naked under the sheets and holding hands under them, “Because I don’t want this to-”
Sebastian locked their lips, “It is,” he pulled away, “Now- I don’t think I’ve ever officially asked you, or anyone for that matter, this before-” Blaine awaited, anxiously, “Est-ce que je peux être ton petit ami? Peux-tu être à moi?”
Blaine’s French was weak before he met Sebastian two weeks ago, but it’d improved since his arrival and even Mrs. Bourgeois had noticed, Blaine had thanked his new friend and roomate for it, which made Sebastian be asked to stand in the front of the class and be applauded to, but he had only eyes for Blaine out of all the boys clapping for him; Blaine knew enough French to know what Sebastian was asking.
“Of course I said yes,” Blaine announced to a late audience, “I mean, c’mon, it was Sebastian after all, how could I deny him?”
“If they were insufferable before,” Nick admired, “It only escalated from there- not even me and Jeff were that dense to the outside world as those two- it’s like only they existed, they lived in this world, dimension, whatever, of their own,”
“It was intoxicating,” Sebastian said, though he knew it was only the beginning, “Only he mattered to me, in that place, because he gave me something I’d been lacking even before I set a single foot in Ohio- happiness,” he glanced down, “I got addicted,”
“Funny how it was before our actual party animals phase came to be,” Jeff smiled it off, “We were so silly in the sixties,”
Sebastian may have rejected Blaine’s invitation to join the band, but he still tagged along the next Friday night with him, Nick and Jeff to “check their thing out” and meet his boyfriend’s mother and brother while at it.
Nick and Jeff didn’t look overjoyed at the possibility of Blaine and Sebastian making out in the backseat of Nick’s car while he and Jeff occupied the front seats awkwardly, which was exactly what they did.
“We didn’t announce we were dating until Sebastian had already gone back to France,” Jeff recalled, “You should’ve seen his face when he found out we were dating under his ‘gaydar’ nose the whole time,”
“I blame it on Anderson,” Sebastian commented, “He had me under his wing and wouldn’t let me go,”
“I take it this is when you caught them in the act, right?” the interviewer asked Cooper, who looked like he’d been scarred for life.
“Oh, yeah,” Cooper said, finally cracking up and laughing, “Bright side is they were loud, like loud, so I braced myself before confirming it- at first, I thought Blaine was with a girl, but the high-pitched moans turned out to belong to Blaine- Surprised me too,”
“Sebastian,“ Blaine kept his boyfriend’s body from meeting his completely, “The boys could-”
“They’re in the basement,” Sebastian dismissed, his lips finding Blaine’s neck and painting it red with hickeys, “Don’t worry,”
That accent again, it shouldn’t be that alluring, but it was Blaine’s kryptonite, “Mom could come- Or, God forbid, Cooper,”
“It’s okay,” Sebastian found his boyfriend’s anxiety endearing, “But if you don’t want to,” he stopped nipping at Blaine’s neck and faced him, both flushed and undone, “that’s okay, I would-”
Blaine grabbed him by his collar and kissed him, he did want to, it was his room after all, which his mother kept intact fo him everytime he came from Dalton and no one would have to know they did it.
Back then, they didn’t know Cooper would cockblock them and proceed to tell it to millions of people in a documentary based on their fallout as a band in the distant future.
Right now, they had only teenage hormones, protection in their pockets imitating boners, their bodies and each other.
“So is that a-” Sebastian cut himself off, waiting for an answer from Blaine.
“Yes,” Blaine pulled him down again and deeper into his bed, it was almost overwhelming how much he needed Sebastian right now.
“God, I want-” Sebastian exhaled on Blaine’s chest, their bodies pressed together.
“What?” Blaine asked, opening his legs so Sebastian could get between them, which he did.
He had a feeling what was that Sebastian wanted.
“That’s how I lost my virginity,” Blaine opened his arms, did some jazz hands, “Yeah, we may have been interrupted by my older brother and it may have been on my childhood bedroom, oddly fitting, but it did was good,”
“Why?” the interviewer wondered.
“Because it was with a boy I loved,” Blaine replied, simply, “and because that boy loved me back,”
“I’m very aware how privileged I was to be Blaine Anderson’s first,” Sebastian spoke straight to the camera, “I’ve been getting e-mails about it since the ability to e-mail was invented and launched, and it’s an honor I wear probably- like some fans say, I won in life, and I know it,”
“I would be lying if I said he’s not fantastic in bed,” Blaine shivered at the thought, “Smythe may not be the perfect romantic partner but he knows his stuff, well, very well,”
Being on the receiving end was not a bad experience for Blaine, it’d been similar to his first with Sebastian, in which he’d been on top, and he was glad he was the one doing the work then because he’d honestly never been informed of sex between two men, or sex in general, ever, but Sebastian, who’d clearly had been or had experienced it, taught him how it was done, so Blaine had a pretty spot-on idea in what to expect on his first, making it more enjoyable.
Of course, due to Sebastian’s said experience, it made it more intense, it came to the point where Blaine wondered if he’d be ripped in two, with the rawness of Sebastian’s thrusts, which broke about two condoms, but they both dismissed it, they were both clean and men, so no sexually transmitted diseases or babies to fear.
Sebastian put Blaine’s legs above his shoulders twenty minutes in, clearly looking for an angle where he could go even deeper, and it worked.
Blaine felt Sebastian impossibly close, and they became one just like that, Blaine’s hands found Sebastian’s freckled pectorals and met his crimson face and dilated eyes and it was heaven on Earth.
Blaine nodded and smiled a little too eager, encouraging a moaning Sebastian to go faster and faster everytime they thought he’d reached the limit but kept thrusting up harder and harder.
Blaine could see a whole album play out everytime he closed his eyelids, and skin met skin, and his own guttural noises danced with Sebastian’s in the otherwise silent room.
“People say a man can get another man pregnant,” Blaine began, slowly, “but when I lost my virginity to Sebastian, “Aurora” was conceived, and I find funny how he managed to find his way back to me and share that experience with me and the guys, how it all fell down like dominos for a while, even if only briefly- How what started with just me and Sebastian having loud sex in my childhood bedroom ended up with us singing songs of our own making to thousands of people on stadiums, and it began there,”
“Blaine once told me this crazy thing,” Sebastian started, his eyes widening, “That I’ll never forget, that “Aurora” was conceived the day I made love to him for the first time, born when he heard I was back in town and raised when I joined the band- I know, you might think we have a parasocial relationship with the album that made us famous- but can you blame us? “Aurora” was our firstborn, literally,”
“I hate them,” Jeff exhaled, “I, literally, do,”
“Oh, yeah, Blaine and French have this nuts idea that they’re “Aurora”s parents or something,” Cooper admired what he’d just said, “Is there a chance you can cut that out?”
“No,” the interviewer responded with.
“I see their point,” Nick supported, “They have a connection to the album, as we all have- it gave us money to pay off our piled up debts, launched our careers fully, made us the biggest band in the world with hit after hit, our songs were in the radio, it was glorious, and all thanks to Blaine and Sebastian’s renewed connection, if they hadn’t found each other again “Aurora” wouldn’t have been the commercial success it was and continues to be in present day- There is a reason why none of us has had that same level of success individually,”
“When did you and, eventually, your now wife joined the band?” the interviewer asked Mike.
Mike smiled, “That’s actually a funny story,”
Three weeks after Sebastian met Blaine’s mother, turned out well, she even gave her muffins to take to Dalton with him, and brother, complete disaster, Cooper kept smirking everytime they talked to each other, which made Blaine’s mom raise her eyebrows once or twice, Cooper brought up Mike Chang in band practice on Saturday.
“Wait, I remember him,” Blaine snapped his fingers, dropping his mic, “He was my roommate, but he moved back to Lima at the beginning of the year,”
“You’re forgetting I work in Lima, squirt,” Cooper kept playing some chords, “His car is a piece of junk so it requires oil changes often,”
“I don’t get where you’re going with this,” Nick told Cooper, straightforward.
“I do,” Blaine straightened his mic stand, “and I’m not liking it,”
“C’mon,” Cooper complained, looking at Jeff for support.
“Okay, let the man speak,” so Jeff supported, who clearly still had a soft spot for Cooper, making Blaine and Nick roll their eyes, “Hey! We’re a democracy over here, we listen to each other, that’s the way we work,”
“You lost me at democracy,” Cooper appreciated the support but not too much, “Well, the thing is- Mike told me he needed money and, you know how helpful I am, I told him I knew how he could get it,”
“Oh, no,” Blaine cursed.
“How?” Nick seemed curious.
“With us,” Cooper revealed with open arms, “I mean we do get some cash off our casual gigs,”
“Yeah, like five dollars at most,” Blaine remarked, and that was being kind, “Or ten when the hosts are drunk off their trunks,”
“Everything was cheaper back then,” present Blaine reasoned, “But still, not much difference,”
The boys had a laugh at Blaine’s comment before quieting down due to Blaine’s cutting glare.
“So?“ Cooper asked, hopeful, “I promise to never tell mom you had s-”
Whether he was going to say sex or Sebastian, Blaine couldn’t risk it.
“Fine,” Blaine said a little too loudly, “Mike can join,”
“That’s my little brother,” Cooper pulled him into a hug that Nick and Jeff quickly joined, Blaine could feel Jeff’s drumsticks on his ribcage.
They did their first “Westerville on three,” with their hands joined together then high up in the air, on three of course.
“All thanks to Mike Chang,” Cooper toasted for him with the glass of chy in his hand on Northern Italy, “What a guy,”
“I like a challenge,” Mike admitted, “Cooper helped too, he’s cool, though he got me to join on false pretenses,”
“Pfft,” Cooper dismissed, glass up still, “The glory and the money came eventually so no need to whine about questionable circumstances,“
“It wasn’t who I expected to join us,” Blaine could confess, “But it was nice having someone none of us really knew to know and mentor- though he didn’t need much mentoring, Mike’s a living ace, nothing you can put in front of him that he can’t figure out in some way,”
Sebastian was glad to hear they did get someone to join the band.
“I would’ve done it, you know, join your band,” he said with an arm around Blaine as they laid naked in their bed, the dorm’s door locked, the birds singing outside, the morning air coming through the window, “If I had more time,”
“Time,” present Blaine gave it a thought, calmly, “You don’t have to just meet the right person, you have to meet them at the right time too- Maybe that’s why it never worked out for us,”
“You would’ve?” Blaine looked up to find Sebastian staring back at him, with sleepy green eyes.
“I’ll have you know I’m a fantastic singer,” Sebastian kissed Blaine’s temple, “Have you seen me at Warblers practice?”
Blaine had actually, he’d been there at Sebastian’s audition and watched as he got accepted by the senior council, clapped and cheered for him on the couch he was later on joined by Sebastian in, “I have,” he kissed Sebastian’s shoulder, “Kind of why I asked you to join the band- I can spot talent when I see it,”
“Here was I thinking you only offered out of courtesy to a boy you share a bed with,” Sebastian joked, his nose brushing over Blaine’s.
It would’ve been easy for Blaine to say “I love you” right then and there, but he said other thing, “I could write a song,”
“What?” Sebastian pulled apart, smiling but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“A song,” maybe Sebastian misinterpreted it, for what? Blaine didn’t know.
“So, is that what my role is?” Sebastian asked, shaking his head, “Inspiration for your inner songwriter?”
“Um, no!” Blaine rapidly denied, but noticed how Sebastian’s frown deepened, “Yes?”
“I mean,” Blaine closed his eyes, opened it and found Sebastian the same way, not that he expected him to change in a blink, “I’m in a band, and you’re my boyfriend, who am I supposed to write about? Mrs. Watson?”
“Of course I’m not complaining about the songs part,” Sebastian looked almost charmed, “and I’m aware my boyfriend is in a band and that he writes songs about me, but is that all I’m good for for you, sex and songs?”
“No,” Blaine denied more strongly, his hands on Sebastian’s, “Those are an activity of many we do together and the other are love letters from me to you that people happen to hear in their after wedding parties, sweet sixteens, and the list goes on,” Sebastian’s frowned dropped, “and they all have one thing in common, they get to listen me sing about how you make me feel and pay for that privilege, to hear you through my voice and my lyrics-”
Sebastian stopped him by kissing him and Blaine melted into it, because of course, “Haven’t you ever thought that maybe I do that too and you haven’t even caught up on it?”
“You write songs,” Blaine hated how taken aback he sounded, he knew Sebastian was capable whatever he put his mind on.
“About you,“ Sebastian finished, “actually, even when you’re in the same room and you never-”
“Oh, Sebastian,” Blaine grinned, making Sebastian frown again.
“It’s not funny,” he complained.
“I never said it was,” Blaine dismissed, Sebastian calmed, “You’re killing me here, Sebastian, just that,”
“That was not my intention,” Sebastian said through a smile.
“Then what was it?” Blaine wondered.
“Don’t know yet,” Sebastian met his eyes and everything eased, “But I’ll figure it out,”
“You have to let me have a look at your songs now,” Blaine declared, officially, “Which I was not sure existed because this whole time I thought you were just doing extra work, by the way,”
“On weekends?” Sebastian asked, unimpressed.
“I liked to think I have a boyfriend with a labour’s heart,” Blaine said, earning a laugh from Sebastian, which made the whole argument worth it.
“I never let him have a look at my earliest songs,” present Sebastian prolonged every word, “Because one: they suck, the structure is all over the place and two: they talk mostly about Blaine’s muscles and hazel eyes, and about how much we kissed back then,”
“I think he released like two of them,” Blaine smiled to himself, “One was the namesake of his third album “Hazel” and God did that album caused a riot, every fan was naming their infant daughters Aurora Hazel or Hazel Aurora, which- it would be so funny if the girls grow up and hate the band’s or Sebastian’s music, which I’m hoping they do not, for their sake,”
“Blaine always converts me into an useless crab,” Sebastian said, simply, “and I mean it in a good way, whenever I release a song about him, it’s a hit, and not necessarily because it is about him, I just happen to write my best with him in mind, which makes our decade-old argument where I was all “I’m not somebody’s muse, I’m the somebody” confusing to even me,”
“The second song was called, drumroll please,” Blaine paused, “How I wish Jeff was here,” he whispered to himself, “You guessed it “Lois Lane”,”
Sebastian shrugged, “It rhymed with Blaine, and I was a conformist when it came to writing rhythmic songs early on my journey as a songwriter, but, fun fact, if you actually reversed the chorus of that song you’ll find that it says Blaine, only backwards,”
“I have that effect on people,” Blaine deduced, “It doesn’t take a logician,”
Sebastian only smiled to the camera.
“So, how do you think it affected Blaine when Sebastian moved back to France?” the interviewer asked Nick, Jeff and Cooper respectively.
Cooper took a sip off his glass of champagne, “Oh, boy,”
“He was inconsolable for months,” Jeff shook his head, “Wouldn’t leave his dorm, insisted that if he did Sebastian would fade away from his memory and turned out to have been just a dream,”
“I wrote a whole album about it,” Blaine laughed, “Dreamlike, go buy it,”
“He refused to practice with the band,” Mike sounded tired, “I’d been in said band for a month and a half when summer came and Sebastian went, so I didn’t really got to know him that well, but I knew he was Blaine’s boyfriend and that the boys liked him enough to let him crash our rehearsals,”
“I mean, when I joined,” Tina began, hastily, “Sebastian had been gone for six months, so no comment- Mike did tell me why Blaine was always so moody though, which I quickly caught up on, he was the leader, obviously, but he lacked drive, Blaine was just, man, he was a little piece of shit, and they all blamed his attitude on Sebastian’s departure, that his heart had gone to France with him,” Tina looked down, “I believe that now,”
“So, I take it that you and Blaine broke up when you moved back,” the interviewer mentioned, subtly, to Sebastian.
“It was difficult to put an end to it,” Sebastian deceived it, “We’d been putting the actual breaking up part for later for so long that we broke up in the backseat of Nick’s car while on our way to drop me off at the airport in Columbus,”
“Who did the breaking up?”
“Blaine did,” Sebastian said, trying to not sound as weak as he’d done back then.
“We could make it work, you know,” Sebastian said to Blaine as the latter stared out of the window to the passing trees, “The long-distance thing,”
“What if you find someone else?” Blaine suggested, still not looking at Sebastian.
“It’s funny because he was the one who found someone else,” Sebastian smiled, bitterly, “I never found a replacement for him in France, and he did in a neighbor town,”
“That’s not possible,” Sebastian denied, reaching for Blaine’s hand, Blaine let him possible, “I didn’t find anyone in Paris before you, what makes you think I will after you?”
Blaine only shook his head, tightened his grip in Sebastian’s hand, “It wouldn’t work, Sebastian, I mean- how long would it take your letters to arrive in the mail? If you’ll live an ocean and continent away?”
Blaine later would write a song revolving around that argument.
Sebastian had no come back to that, Blaine did was right, their situation was pointless.
“It made me regret our relationship,” Sebastian sincered himself, “I now know it was for the better, but back then I was brokenhearted about it, it made me just regret,”
“When Blaine told Sebastian he regretted what they had when they met again,” Nick began, “He wrote a song about it and Blaine was forced to sing it with him as a duet, it made the cut and was put on “Aurora”,”
“It was a bop,” Mike could admit.
“People forget I was there for their breakup,” Nick reminded, “Jeff stayed behind at Dalton for some work he had to finish before we left for vacation, so I had those two to deal on my own- then I just had one after Sebastian boarded the plane, Blaine cried all the way back home,”
“All the way back home?” the interviewer wondered.
“Throughout all of it,” Nick nodded, “When we made it back to Dalton he cried himself to sleep- I think he never stopped crying, not really,” he paused, “Until Sebastian came back,”
“I met Kurt later that same summer,” Blaine said, “So I don’t think I had time to really process my now ex-boyfriend’s departure- after him I couldn’t be alone, or I would remember what I lost and it wasn’t, wasn’t good, but I spent those months after drunk off my mind- it was when the band started to book gigs outside of town, so I barely remember feeling anything, I just remember feeling completely numb to everything around me,”
“How much do you remember?” the interviewer asked Kurt Hummel, photographer, sitting on his couch at his house in Cincinnati.
“I remember everything,” Kurt said, rigidly.
“How did you meet The Anderson Brothers?” the interviewer asked him, diving in deeper.
“I’d heard from them before,” Kurt answered, “Blaine’s brother, Cooper, worked for my dad at his tire shop, which still exists, by the way, it is now in charge of my stepbrother, it’s been since my dad’s death a few years ago,”
“Cooper always talked about his band this and his band that,” Kurt couldn’t help but smile, “so, naturally, when I met the band in question at Becky Jackson’s sweet sixteen party I had very low expectations,”
“But, they were actually pretty good,” Kurt admitted like it hurt to do so, “There were five of them, but you could see who was who at first glance- I’d always had a thing for leaders, so I set my eye on Blaine instantly, because Cooper may had been much more handsome, but Blaine had the spirit,”
Blaine’s throat burned throughout the whole performance.
It was at Lima, so that was certainly something, something not necessarily good, but they offered a reasonable amount of money for their performance, so Blaine couldn’t whine about it.
He still pulled a cigarette out and had a smoke backstage after song number two “Susie Q” though.
“C’mon, squirt,” Cooper gave a pat to his shoulder, “You’re not thinking about mopping around for some boy for the rest of your life?”
Nick and Jeff only watched, five feet apart from them, Nick had his guitar around his neck and Jeff his drumsticks in his hands, as Cooper tried to call in for an intervention.
“I actually am, Coop, thanks for asking,” Blaine said, smiling without joy, “and he was not ‘just some boy’, he has a name,”
Cooper sighed, “Sebastian then,”
With the mention of his name, the memories came flooding back in Blaine’s head, their first meeting, their first talk, their first time, their firsts, their lasts, their last kiss at the airport before Sebastian climbed up the plane’s stairs, how he kept looking back at Blaine like he wanted to memorize him, Blaine would know, he’d been trying to memorize Sebastian as well, the way the last thing he’d said to Blaine was “Je t’aime,” and he would never get to see Sebastian again or say it back.
Blaine blew the smoke into the air, “Better,” with that he threw his cigarette into the floor and stomped his foot on it, “Now, let’s go,”
Blaine was aware of ridiculous they all looked in matching white suits, but didn’t give it a second thought, not now when all he wanted to do was get the gig done and go home.
“When did you officially meet the band?” the interviewer asked Kurt.
“At the sweet sixteen,” Kurt replied, “Blaine had just punched his and Cooper’s deadbeat father after Cooper had spotted him in a the crowd dancing with some teenager, when he was supposed to be somewhere in Michigan,”
“I bet he never even left the state,” Blaine said to Nick, Mike and Jeff, seeing red at the sight, Cooper approached the man, handed him back the guitar he’d been playing just seconds ago.
It’d been a gift from him to Coop before he walked out of their lives, to remember him by, Coop smashed it into the floor, tearing it to pieces in front of their father, before he walked out.
That’s when Blaine punched his father, before following him out, Nick, Mike and Jeff following suit shortly afterwards, not having time to excuse themselves with the crowd or the birthday girl’s parents.
“Blaine hit my shoulder by accident on the way out,” Kurt recalled, “That’s how we met,”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Blaine looked back at the body who’d he’d just hit.
“Don’t worry,” Kurt dismissed, his eyes staying on him for a little too long.
Blaine frowned, “Do you know who I am?” he might’ve been wrong but he could see recognition pass through Kurt’s eyes.
“Should I?” Kurt asked, shyly.
“Of course I knew who he was,” present Kurt said, blatantly, “Everyone knew who The Anderson Brothers were in Ohio, there may have been no internet, but word spread fast when it came to local talent,”
Blaine looked down at his suit, he was part of the band, of course the boy should recognize him, “I’m Blaine Anderson, nice to meet you,” he offered a hand.
Kurt smiled, shaking it with his, “Kurt Hummel- Your brother works at my dad’s tire shop,”
“Huh?” Blaine said, confused.
“Hummel Tire and Lube?” Kurt suggested, he closed his eyes, “That sounded-”
“Weird, yeah,” Blaine finished for him, laughing in what felt like the first time since Sebastian left town, “I’ve gotta go,” he looked at the exit, “But I’ll see you around if your dad works for my- I mean, your brother works for your dad,”
Kurt chuckled, “It’s nice to know I’m not the only one nervous,”
Blaine nodded, not knowing what to say next and walked out, leaving the party noise and his brother’s boss’ son behind for good.
“I guess we’re not getting paid for that gig,” Jeff said with his drumsticks hanging loosely on his hips.
The boys stood on a circle around each other, which Blaine joined, “Coop-”
“Don’t,” Cooper looked at the ground, “I don’t want to talk about it- but great punch,”
“So that guy,” Mike began, astonished, “That was you guys’ dad?”
“Deadbeat dad,” Nick corrected, “He walked out when they were kids,”
“I was fourteen,” present Cooper remembered, “Blaine was four,”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Blaine said, loudly, which got the boys to look at him in unison, “Gather in, come on,” he ordered and the boys obeyed, “This is what’s going to happen,”
“We’re not letting this get to us,” Blaine meant everything, he looked at Cooper, “We’re showing anyone that ever doubt us what we’ve got,” he looked at Jeff, “That we’ve got what it takes to make it to the big leagues,” he looked at Nick, “That we’re not just local talent pretty faces and that we got in us to triumph and shove it down their throats,” he looked at Mike, “and we’ll do it together,”
They had their arms around each other’s shoulder and their circle was getting smaller and smaller, “That way, we’ll be the biggest band in the fucking world someday,” Blaine finished.
“He’s back,” Jeff said, almost tearful, making the others laugh, “He’s back!”
They jumped around in unison, their circle intact, “It’s good to have you back, brother,” Cooper whispered in Blaine’s ear.
“It was about time,” Blaine said, as a way of getting the ache burning fresh in his chest to quiet.
“Westerville on three,” Nick called, stared at Mike, “Though we can-”
“Screw that,” Mike put his hand down first, “Let’s do it,”
The actual Westerville boys smiled at Mike, putting their hands down above each other’s, “1... 2... 3... Westerville!”
“To think all of that was only our origin story,” Blaine admired, reclining on his place, knitting his eyebrows together.