#and so I went and now I’m fully stocked on food for a bit minus a few things here n there!!!!

[astronomeys]

(heals thru the realization that people care about and love me even if they don’t tell me frequently)

#I suddenly blurted my frustration with our prof at my classmate n in the end she helped refer me to the student disability aid #and she was being sooooo sososo nice and supportive it was lovely 🥺 #and also the other day I mentioned to a coworker that I was out of food and couldn’t get more cuz cats come first #so she encouraged me to go to a food bank and to not be ashamed/embarrassed/guilty bc I’m human and deserve to eat #and so I went and now I’m fully stocked on food for a bit minus a few things here n there!!!! #so I thanked her by text after I went n she said she was glad I could see all the good help they provide 🥺🥺 #girls helping girls you love to see it #also if anyone relates to the post itself not the tags u can rb

[mollyellee]

if you say that you are mine

Sebastian meets Blaine at a business social in a box at Madison Square Garden. They try to make up for lost time, until Blaine finds out Sebastian’s boss wants to buy his company. Sebastian has to prove it’s not corporate espionage, it’s begging for a second chance.

Here we go again!  It’s been a while since I’ve written anything, so hopefully I’m not too rusty.  Thanks to @seblaineaffairs​ for giving me an opportunity to post something for Seblainiversary 2018, hope you guys like it!  

m for a sprinkling of smut and language//inspired by the “should I stay or should I go” prompt from the original Seblainiversary post; title inspired by the song

Blaine likes sports. He’s never been the type of guy to memorize stats about the whole team or be able to recite the championship history in heavy detail, but he likes them.

And now that he’s divorced, he finds himself going to games by himself just because he can. Kurt would never begrudge him a day out at the ballpark, but after about an hour, he would complain about the greasy food, the inability to follow the game, and Blaine would lose all sense of enjoyment trying to make his husband happy.

So when his boss volunteers him to attend a hockey game in a private box, he jumps at the chance. His boss said that they needed some assistance getting some of their initiatives off the ground, and Blaine is the best man for the job.

When he steps in the luxury box, he is immediately taken aback. There’s a fully stocked bar, waiters mingling throughout the room, and a small crowd of at least 15-20 people.  Normally when he goes to games by himself, he sits up as far as possible, wanting to remain another anonymous face in the crowd.  Tonight, he knows he’s supposed to mingle, meet new people, and he’s fine with that.

Until he sees him.

The two haven’t interacted since high school, but Blaine would recognize Sebastian Smythe anywhere.  He’s standing near the exit of the luxury box, so close to the seats that if he took two steps to his left, he’d be invisible to Blaine, just a mystery man in a crowd of mystery men.

Then again, Sebastian has always been a little bit of a mystery to him.

And then the person talking to him leaves and Sebastian looks up, right into Blaine’s eyeline. He doesn’t look like he feels the the life changing shock that Blaine felt when he saw Sebastian, but his eyebrows do raise slightly. Blaine isn’t sure how they do this.  Do they act like they didn’t see each other? It feels like Sebastian remains stationary, but Blaine feels like he’s on a conveyor belt straight to him.  He isn’t sure how he arrives in front of Sebastian but before he knows it, he’s opening his mouth to speak.

“I wasn’t sure what I’d say if I ever saw you again.”

Sebastian still has that same self assured smirk as all those years ago, “And that’s what you went with?”

Blaine laughs and releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “What’s your best line for an old friend you haven’t seen in ten years?”

Blaine notices Sebastian’s slight flinch at friend, but he’s more occupied with trying not to stare as Sebastian takes a sip of his drink, clearly buying time to think of something clever.  After swallowing and licking his lips, just to make sure Blaine sees them shining and wet, he responds.

“Still look hot in a blazer, Anderson.”

The Dalton model, blue and red and maybe just slightly too big, has been replaced with a sleek black jacket that compliments Blaine’s strong shoulders.  He rolls his eyes playfully and replies.

“Mine was better.  It implies that I’ve been thinking about you all this time.”

Sebastian sighs dramatically, “If only that were true.  But alas, you were scooped up long ago by that understudy for Tinkerbell.”

Blaine’s shoulders tense up instantly, but not because he has any residual feelings left for Kurt.  But he feels the inexplicable guilt of letting Sebastian slip out of his life.  He doesn’t want to explain everything that happened that led him to this moment, but he does want to make his current situation very clear to Sebastian, even if he’s not willing to admit the reason quite yet.

“Actually, I’m divorced, so this Peter Pan is all on his own in Neverland.”

At this, Sebastian’s eyebrows raise, intrigued, “That can’t possibly be true. You two were practically attached at the hip. Maybe that was the problem, too close for comfort?”

“I think that was more of our problem. For him anyway,” Blaine says teasingly. Sebastian is impressed. This Blaine is looser, more comfortable than the one he remembers. Maybe losing Kurt (and those horrendous bow ties) has done him some good.

Not that Sebastian would’ve expected any different.

“Well then,” he says slowly, finishing the rest of his drink and distractedly putting it on a counter next to him, “since you never grew up, why don’t we finish what we started back in high school?  My place is just a little ways uptown, care for a nightcap?”

Blaine is enjoying this.  It’s been a long time since flirting with someone made him feel excited, and the fact that it’s Sebastian, someone he always wanted but never could have, makes it feel even more thrilling.

“I bet that’s what you ask all the boys,” Blaine says with a smirk, “minus the high school thing, of course.  Unless every broken heart you left in Lima followed you to the big city.”

Sebastian leans over and murmurs low into Blaine’s ear, “For your information, it is a sacred few that make it through the hallowed halls of my home. I usually just leave them in the club bathroom when we’re finished.”

As Sebastian pulls away, they are both laughing, and Blaine feels the slightest twinge that he should stop this.  The game isn’t even half over, he hasn’t spoken to anyone about work, and he’s seriously considering doing something with Sebastian that he always thought he might regret.

“I actually should probably be talking to some of these people since this is a business function,” he responds, and pulls out a business card from his blazer pocket.  Sebastian reads it and asks, “Broadway Works Project?”

The name of the company Blaine works for is printed on the card, but he suddenly feels foolish for handing one to someone who just asked him to go home for a drink (and definitely more, but Blaine can’t focus on that right now).

“Uh yeah, it’s this little non-profit I work for.  We’re small, but we do a lot of good work, and you probably don’t care at all,” he says with a self-depricating laugh.

“I’ll have to look into it,” Sebastian responds with a warm smile, “It was good talking to you, Blaine.”

“You too,” Blaine says, and slowly makes his way to some of the other small groups forming in the room.  He makes casual conversation, explains the mission of Broadway Works Project, that they help up-and-coming actors looking to make it on Broadway with auditions, portfolios, anything they need to get their career started.  His boss had sent him to drum up support for the project, mostly monetary, but he knew Blaine’s passion for the group would show through and bring support in whatever form they could get.

And yet, as he talks and mingles, all he can think about is Sebastian. The few times he allows himself to zone out of the conversations he’s having, he looks over and Sebastian is always looking his way, a small playful smile on his face, even from across the room.

It has been a long time since Blaine did something reckless.  He’s done enough work for one night, he thinks he can afford to play a little too.  They’ll forgive him at work tomorrow.

He walks over just as Sebastian is finishing talking to an older man, and the two exchange cards.  He quirks his head to the side and smiles.  He doesn’t even have to say anything before Blaine responds to the question he asked earlier in the evening.

“All right, yeah,” he answers, “Take me home, Sebastian.”

---

Blaine should’ve known Sebastian would never take the subway, so they stand in silence as they wait for a cab outside Madison Square Garden.  It doesn’t take long, the city alive as always, but Blaine feels like he can feel his whole body vibrating as they get in and Sebastian directs the driver toward an address on the Upper West Side. He doesn’t know if it’s the thrill of going home with a hot guy, or if it’s because that guy is Sebastian, but he feels more alive than he has in a long time. When Sebastian leans back against the seat after stating the address, Blaine swears he winks at him before looking down at his phone and sending a few quick text messages.

He looks down at his own phone and sees a message from a coworker, and more importantly, an old friend.

How is the event? Get any buzz going?

She doesn’t like to be ignored, and she’ll give Blaine hell for it when she sees him tomorrow, but right now, he wants to think about nothing but Sebastian.  As the taller boy writes an email, Blaine scans his body from top to bottom.  He’s always been gorgeous, but growing older has done him so many favors.  His teenage lankiness has evolved into sharp edges that define his long legs, and the button down he’s wearing is rolled up at the sleeves so Blaine can see his toned, but not overly muscular arms.  He doesn’t even bother looking up from the email before saying, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Blaine snorts through a laugh, “And you think I’m the one with the lame lines.”

He hits send and smirks as he looks at Blaine, “I don’t think anything about you is lame.  Well, your taste in men used to be, but clearly that has improved.”

Sebastian finishes his statement just as the cab comes to a stop and Blaine is immediately in awe of the beautiful building. They step out and he waves hello to Sebastian’s doorman, as they go through the lobby to the elevator and end up on the 14th floor of a 16-story building.  The building is massive, but it appears to only have three apartments on the floor and as Sebastian unlocks the door and they move into his apartment, Blaine tries to control his eyes because he knows they must be bulging out of his head.  

They walk through the slightly narrow foyer, into a large open living area where Sebastian has a massive white couch, an extensive bar area in the corner, and a record player sitting where Blaine has his TV.  Past that though, is what takes Blaine’s breath away.  The whole wall is a large glass window, looking out on the city, lights twinkling, televised advertisements constantly changing, cars moving slowly.  There is no way any of those people below can see them, but Blaine feels like he can see everything.

Suddenly, Blaine feels nervous and slightly panicked.  His apartment is nowhere as near as nice as this place, and he realizes he hasn’t even asked Sebastian any questions about his life, his job; hell, he could be married and just looking for a little fun on the side. This last part particularly makes him panicked and he can’t help the accusation from bubbling out.

“Are you married?”

Sebastian looks over from where he’s hanging up his coat in the closet by the door and laughs, “Insulted that you think I wouldn’t be able to afford this place on my own.”

Blaine can feel his walls coming down at the familiarity, “I’m just saying, I was married, and we still could never have afforded a place like this.”

Sebastian avoids the topic, and instead opts to go over to the bar, pouring two glasses of scotch, “What happened with you and your marriage?”

Blaine sighs, “I don’t know.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes playfully, handing a glass to Blaine, “You do know, you’re just too nice to say.”

Blaine nervously throws back his drink in one gulp, amazed at how smooth it goes down, and looks up at Sebastian, his hand shaking slightly.

“I don’t know what I’m doing with you.”

Sebastian takes a sip of his drink and then takes both his and Blaine’s glasses and sets them on the shelf next to the record player, where all his albums are displayed proudly.

“Nothing yet,” he murmurs, “but I am in fact, not married, so the possibilities are endless.”

He leans down and kisses Blaine, slowly, tentatively, like he doesn’t want to scare him, but Blaine doesn’t seem scared, returning the kiss like he’s giving permission for it to continue. Sebastian effortlessly reaches out to the wall, turning off the lights and putting them in darkness save for the glow of the city around them.  Blaine gasps when he opens his eyes, letting them adjust to see the shine on Sebastian’s lips, the twinkling of the city lights behind him.

“Tell me something you don’t tell the other boys,” he says quietly.

Sebastian likes this game. He smiles, “This place was a gift from my Dad for business school graduation. After all the trouble I caused in high school, I think he was so grateful I actually did something with my life.” He doesn’t look hurt by this admission, just takes it as fact.

“Your turn, killer.”

Blaine practically goes weak at the knees at the mention of his old nickname. He and Sebastian have moved closer to the window, and the lights from the city are casting the most beautiful shadows on his face. He leans forward, placing his hand on Sebastian’s chest.

“I don’t think Kurt ever got over the insecurity he felt with you.”

This pleases Sebastian, or at least if his behavior is any indication it does. He leans down, ghosting his nose over the shell of Blaine’s ear before biting down gently on his lobe, moving to kiss down his neck. When he finally returns to Blaine’s mouth, Blaine receives his kiss easily, all while reaching for Sebastian’s shirt, unbuttoning it as quickly as possible, and sliding the shirt off his broad shoulders, stopping to stare at him in the light.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, Sebastian.”

“I think I do,” he says, desperation lacing his voice, “because I’ve been waiting longer.”

Sebastian reaches down, pulling Blaine’s shirt over his head and pressing him against the window. He feels Blaine arch his back and shudder and pulls away to make sure he didn’t hurt him and Blaine just smiles sheepishly.

“Cold,” he says, gesturing at the window.

“Sorry, I just want the whole world to see,” Sebastian admits and Blaine asks breathlessly, “See what?”

“That you’re mine.”

Blaine knows that Sebastian’s always been a smooth talker, but god damn is it irresistible when he can actually do something about it.

“There’s gotta be a bedroom around here somewhere, right?”

“Fuck yes there is,” Sebastian breathes out, grabbing Blaine’s hand, but keeping him close, reaching with his other hand to unbuckle his belt and dispose of his slacks. When they get into the bedroom, he gently pushes Blaine on the bed and gets rid of his own remaining clothing. When he turns around Blaine has shed the last of his clothes and is laying back on the bed. Sebastian comes closer and Blaine pulls him on top of him, close so he can feel every inch of their bodies touching. Their cocks brush and as Blaine groans lowly, Sebastian laughs breathlessly.  Blaine musters the strength to glare, but Sebastian just keeps smiling.

“I’ve waited a decade to hear you make that sound,” he admits.

“I’ll make some other ones if you play nice,” Blaine breathes out.

“Oh Blaine,” Sebastian says with a smirk, “you know I never liked to play nice.”

Without warning, he hoists Blaine’s legs up around him, leaning down again to kiss him and then murmuring close to his ear.

“Tell me again how long you’ve wanted me.”

Blaine babbles out “forever, since the moment I met you, please”, his breathing getting more labored by the second.  Sebastian wants him to elaborate, but wants something else much more. He moves as quickly as he can to the side table drawer where he easily finds a condom and his bottle of lube. Blaine shuts his eyes, hearing Sebastian pop open the bottle and it’s only when the cool sensation hits his entrance that his eyes shoot open. He looks down and sees Sebastian working his fingers in and out of him, slow at first but faster, more assured as Blaine gets more comfortable.

Blaine can see the sweat shining on Sebastian’s abs as he breathes and fuck they need to get on with it before he comes just from the sight.

“Sebastian I’m...I’m ready, just do it,” he pants out and almost instantly feels a twinge of regret because Sebastian’s fingers are gone that very next second. But before Blaine can miss them, he feels Sebastian pressing inside him slowly and he reaches up to grip the headboard, his back arching to get him closer.

Sebastian thrusts shallowly at first, but hearing Blaine’s whines and watching as he scrambles to ground himself encourages his movements.  He slams into Blaine once, testing the waters, and Blaine practically screams with pleasure.

So, yeah, he’ll definitely be doing that again.

He knows Blaine is getting desperate, so he reaches down to Blaine’s cock, bobbing hard and full between them and strokes once, twice, just to hear Blaine’s breathy moans of please and faster.  Sebastian’s strokes become more frantic, knowing he himself is close to the edge, and as he thrusts hard once more, the combination of his cock and his hand become too much for Blaine and he comes, panting as Sebastian stills for a moment, just staring at the beautiful picture in front of him, the one he had given up on ever seeing.

“Well, don’t just sit there, move,” Blaine encourages him, wanting Sebastian to have his release.  Sebastian happily obliges, pushing a few more times into Blaine’s tight heat before he’s coming, releasing Blaine’s legs from where he’s held them at his sides and drawing out of Blaine.

He rolls over onto his back and disposes of the condom.  He knows he should get up, get a wet towel to wipe the remaining traces of Blaine off of his stomach, but he can’t seem to find the strength to move.  Blaine seems to sense this so he gets up with a smile, coming back a few seconds later to wipe down Sebastian’s abs with a warm towel.

“You just wanted to touch me again,” Sebastian teases, still a little breathless.

“Yeah maybe,” Blaine replies with a smirk, throwing the towel in the bathroom and coming back to lay beside Sebastian.  They don’t say anything for a few moments, and the next time Sebastian opens his eyes, Blaine’s breathing has evened out.  He’s not usually a fan of the one night stand sleepovers, but for Blaine Anderson, he thinks he could probably make an exception.

---

When Blaine wakes up, he hears the sound of water falling and his first thought is how nice and relaxing the sound of the rain is. He opens his eyes and see his clothes scattered on the floor and smiles, feeling the soft sheets enveloping his body.  Tentatively, he reaches for his cell phone and turns it over to see the time.

It’s 9:15. Normally he would have his breakfast and be on the train from his apartment in Brooklyn by 8 am.

They are going to kill him at work. Especially since he didn’t exactly do his job last night.

He’s in full on panic mode, running around the bedroom and throwing his clothes on haphazardly.  He looks in the mirror in Sebastian’s hallway, making sure his hair is at least presentable.  He realizes that the sound isn’t the rain, it’s the shower, but he doesn’t have time to have the awkward conversation with Sebastian about what they are or aren’t, and truth be told, he’s not sure he would have any answers that he feels confident in.

After ten years apart, they had a great night, but their past is complicated.  So why not just leave it at the perfect night?

Blaine glances back toward the bathroom door, part of his heart begging him to stay.  But his sensible side takes over, and he’s knows it’s best to go.  So, he leaves without a word.  

All the while, the water is still running.

—-

“What the fuck Blaine, where have you been?!”

That’s about the reaction he expected. He places an Americano from her favorite coffee shop down the block on her desk, hoping it will placate her, but she is still glaring with her arms folded.

“Sorry, I um...got caught up after the event last night.”

If anyone had told him after high school that the person he would be seeing most often would be Santana Lopez, he wouldn’t have believed it. But ten years, two divorces and one non-profit later, here they were: co-workers, and dare Blaine say it, possibly best friends. The Broadway Works Project happened at a time when they both needed it and when they both needed a friend.  And although they had success working for the company, felt the most fulfilled they ever had at any job, both knew it had led to their hardest failures.  But they were failures they both understood, and failures they could help each other through.

“You got caught up?” She said, an eyebrow raised, and then the moment Blaine had been worrying about all the way over from Sebastian’s happened.  She’s studying his outfit a little too closely for him to not be caught.  

“Blaine Anderson, you were wearing that tie yesterday! Did you actually get some?!”

“Oh my god can you keep it down?” He’s frantically looking around, hoping Santana’s outburst doesn’t draw the attention of their boss, Charlie, who no doubt will ask Blaine how the event went last night.  Charlie is the founder of the group, and so passionate and dedicated to his mission that he would never skip out on an event to make it even greater.  Blaine knew he had let him down, but he had managed to take a few business cards before he skipped out. So that had to count for something, didn’t it?

“Spill. Now,” she says quieter, “Was it…”  She looks off into the distance, mentally scrolling through the list of attendees she casually glanced at the day before.  Neither of them had remembered seeing Sebastian’s name.  Blaine isn’t sure if that would have persuaded him to go or caused him to make an excuse not to.  He knows now, but yesterday seems a lifetime away.

“It was no one. Now can we leave it?” Blaine knows as soon as the words come out that Sebastian is far from no one but he doesn’t know what he is, and he’s not trying to figure it out now when he’s two hours late for work and has to come up with an excuse as to why he doesn’t have any intel for his boss.

She lets it go (for now), and goes back to whatever she was working on, making phone calls and screaming in Spanish to casting directors and stage managers, and Blaine considers the matter forgotten.  

It isn’t until about an hour later when he hears her stop mid-sentence and go, “I have to call you back.”

It isn’t much that makes Santana speechless, but she stops flat and stares behind Blaine. For a moment Blaine panics, thinking it’s going to be Charlie, but he is usually friendly and understanding, not a boss to be afraid of.  Both Blaine and Santana know they don’t have anything to fear from Charlie when they don’t get their work done, he just encourages them to keep at it.  So, he turns around to see who she could possibly be gaping at.

And standing in the middle of their office is Sebastian Smythe.

“Hey there Cinderella. You left so fast this morning the smoke was still clearing when I got out of the shower.”

Behind him, Blaine can hear Santana choking on her coffee and he turns around to shoot her a look.  When he turns back, Sebastian is sitting on the edge of his desk giving him that salacious grin he’s having flashbacks to.

“I...how did you find me?”

He reaches into the pocket at the front of his suit jacket and pulls out a business card.  It’s Blaine’s own.

“Your glass slipper.”

“I’m sorry, is this for real?” Santana says a little too loudly, caught between confusion, excitement and anger.  A lot of time has passed since Santana and Sebastian’s confrontation, and she’s not sure where Blaine stands on everything.  Although it does seem pretty clear that all seems to be forgotten and forgiven.

“Feels like I’m a new man since the last time we met, Santana.”  Sebastian is over by her desk now, extending his hand and Blaine nods letting her know, it’s okay I’m okay.

She accepts his handshake, “Well you look damn good, Smythe.  Still up to your wicked ways?”

“Nah, left that life behind.  Now I am but a humble PR rep for an entertainment company.”

Blaine snorts, “Yeah, so humble he has an apartment the size of Yankee Stadium.”

“You’ve been to his apartment?” Santana asks with a grin, confirming her suspicions, “Well, well, well, this is interesting.”

“Santana, please, don’t tell Charlie,” he panics, “I went to Sebastian’s last night during the event, so I...I didn’t exactly accomplish our goals.”

“Oh honey, you accomplished every goal I’ve had for you for two years.”

“Two years?” Sebastian pipes up, interested, “For someone who was out of practice, you sure didn’t seem like it.”  He and Santana exchange smiles and Blaine can feel himself turning red with embarrassment.  He had left Sebastian’s apartment without a word, hoping to avoid any awkwardness of ‘what does this all mean’, and instead he was now getting it from both sides.

“Yes, well, is there something I can help you with, Mr. Smythe? Or did you just come all this way to sex-shame me?”

Santana and Sebastian share another look and Blaine hates it already.  This closeness starting to form between them is trouble, and the last two people he wants causing trouble are his best friend and his...well, whatever Sebastian is.

“Well, Mr. Anderson,” he teases playfully, “I was hoping you might join me for a little late breakfast-early lunch.  It’s the least I can do for keeping you from your work last night.”

He’s already started saying “Sebastian, we don’t have to…” when he hears Santana exclaim “Yes!”  They both stare at her, Blaine shocked, Sebastian pleased, and she clears her throat to speak again, “Sebastian, would you mind giving Blaine and I just two seconds? He’ll be right out.”

Sebastian nods and leaves and Blaine turns back to her and hisses, “What are you doing?”

“Blaine, I haven’t seen you get this flustered over a guy in years.  In fact, I think the only other guy besides Kurt that ever made you act this way is him.  So why not take a chance and see what could be?”

“It was a one night stand, Santana.  Consider it a check off my bucket list.”

“Talking about checking off your bucket list is exactly why you need to go have lunch and flirt with a hot guy.  I’ll cover for you, say you ate some bad wings at the Garden last night and are at home barfing your face off or something.”

Blaine closes his eyes for a moment and thinks.  He never really got to travel down this road with Sebastian because his heart had been occupied from the moment they met.  Does he want to give him this chance 10 years later?

He picks up his bag, “All right, fine.  But if I end up with another slushee in my face, I’m blaming you.”

She rolls her eyes, “That level of drama is so high school.  Go get into some big boy trouble.”

He laughs and heads outside where Sebastian is ending a phone call.  He smiles when he sees Blaine walk through the door.

“If something more important came up, we can reschedule,” Blaine offers, motioning at the other man’s phone.  But Sebastian waves it off.

“No, no it’s nothing.  So, where do you want to eat?”

Blaine’s eyes alight.  If there’s one thing he loves about New York, it’s the food.  And Sebastian looks like the type to order the same sandwich from the same deli delivered to his desk every single day because he’s too busy to go out to eat.  Blaine is going to rock his world.

---

“Holy shit, this is amazing,” Sebastian moans.

Blaine is quite pleased with himself.  They are at a little Italian cafe, not far from the Broadway Works Project, but far enough that Blaine (hopefully) won’t be running into his boss while he plays hooky with the hottest ghost from his past.

“Told you,” Blaine says with a satisfied smile, thanking the waiter and leaving them alone.  Sebastian figures this is as good a time as any to ask the question again, the one he’s dying to know the answer to.

“So, come on, tell me.  What idiotic decision led to you becoming a divorcee?”

“Wow,” Blaine says, taking a long drink of water, “pretty hard hitting topics for a first date.”

“This is a date?”

“Guess I should ask the guy who stalked me at my work after a one night stand.”

“Ouch, killer,” Sebastian says with a laugh and a touch of mock hurt.

Blaine can feel himself blushing despite himself, “Stop calling me that. It makes me forget that maybe I should hate you.”

“And why is that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, you’ve made me shirk my responsibilities at work twice now, you threw rock salt in my eye, you tried endlessly to break up my relationship…”

Sebastian’s smooth facade falls for a moment and he looks genuinely remorseful, “I am sorry about what I did to you all those years ago.  I was an immature idiotic kid.  I never would have forgiven myself if I had, god forbid, blinded you or something.”

Blaine smiles warmly, “It’s forgiven.  Honest.  Although, I’m pretty sure I’m still mad at you about that other stuff.”

Sebastian shrugs, “Hey, if you had given me a chance the first time I asked, maybe you wouldn’t have had all that heartbreak to deal with.  Marriage and divorce, it’s so expensive, who needs it?”

At this, Blaine pauses, amused, “You wouldn’t have broken my heart?”

“Maybe,” Sebastian responds, noncommittal.  He knows he wasn’t perfect, never has been. “But the fact is that Kurt did and you still haven’t told me how.”

Blaine explains quickly what they do at Broadway Works Project. How they act more like advisors than agents, but nevertheless, they advocate for actors, ones who just need a little help getting their big break. The same big break Kurt had been chasing his whole life.

“He didn’t get that I couldn’t just hand him these roles, you know?” Blaine sighs, “and then he got jealous because I was giving roles to other guys and he thought I must like them better and I just got so tired of it.  I know it must’ve been hard to be him, coming to NYADA only to have so many doors closed in his face, but he never even considered how hard it was to be me.  I never told him this because I didn’t want to crush his dreams, but it wasn’t me who didn’t want him in any of the shows. I tried, believe me.”

Sebastian picks up his glass of wine and takes a drink, “He never deserved you, I could’ve told you that.”

Blaine rolls his eyes, but is still smiling, “I think you did tell me that. That was the problem.”

“Well, I hope it’s not a problem that I’m telling you now.”

Blaine can’t believe how absolutely smitten he is still is for this boy. Maybe always was.

“Not in the slightest.”

—-

1 date becomes 5. Nightcaps become sleepovers.

Days become weeks become months.

And before he knows it, Blaine Anderson has a boyfriend.  And so does Sebastian Smythe.

---

“I’m sorry, you’ve lived here how long and you’ve never taken the subway?!”

“Blaine, why would I ever share transportation with God knows who coming from God knows where when I could have a nice private car to myself?  Nobody talks to me, I don’t talk to them, everyone is happy.”

“The subway is what makes the city come alive! You have to try it at least once.”

Blaine’s puppy dog eyes are met with Sebastian’s unimpressed side eye, but within minutes, they are on the platform, waiting for the train to take them back to Blaine’s apartment.

“Is this smell also part of the experience?”

“Nah that’s just trash,” Blaine says with a shrug, taking Sebastian’s hand and pulling him into the train as the taller of the two mutters, “Lovely.”

The train moves, it stops where it shouldn’t, they’re treated to an impromptu musical number, kids talk way too loud in front of them, but Sebastian never complains.  He just looks over, Blaine’s head resting happily on his shoulder as they sit.  He thinks it, but he can’t say it

Not with the knowledge that it might someday break Blaine all over again.

When they get to Blaine’s stop, Sebastian has never felt so relieved.  They get off the train and the cold air of early fall hits them, but Blaine doesn’t seem to mind at all.  He’s practically grinning ear to ear.

“Okay, you can’t like the subway that much, you’re acting like a character in a tourism ad.  I’m worried you’re going to burst into a song and dance about the Empire State Building” Sebastian says skeptically.

“Not about the subway,” Blaine replies as they get to the door to his small brownstone, “You hated it.”

“Not my preferred transportation, but…”

“But you did it.  For me.”

Sebastian feels his heart ache.  Everytime Blaine does something like this, appreciates him for the little things, he can’t help but feel warm inside.  But there’s always that feeling of guilt, the little voice in his head that says tell him before it’s too late.

Sebastian just nods and Blaine pushes up to kiss him.  When he pulls away, he is still smiling.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

It’s been six months since they met again, but Blaine has wanted to say it since that very first date.  He knew, even then, that there had to be a reason he had never fully given up on Sebastian Smythe.

Sebastian can’t say it, for so many reasons, so he kisses him back, hurries them inside so they can warm up.  Blaine is so elated he got his feelings out, that they don’t even make it to the bedroom.  They undress in the living room, clothes catching on barstools, shelves, even his TV, but he can’t bring himself to care.  Sebastian loves him, he can feel it in his touch, the way he looks at him.

The way he drops to his knees in front of Blaine’s couch, looking up at Blaine ferociously as he kisses down Blaine’s torso, leaves little bites along his stomach, the inside of his thighs.  By the time Sebastian’s lips reach Blaine’s cock, he’s practically begging for it, and Sebastian is happy to oblige.  He takes him deep, humming around the shaft, and Blaine can’t help but stare as Sebastian works his tongue around him.  He grips Sebastian’s hair, lightly, just to feel him everywhere.  When it’s almost too much, he throws his head back against the couch, whimpering and scrambling, but Sebastian remains steady, moving up and down until he can feel Blaine’s release.

When he knows Blaine is close, he pulls off, replacing his mouth with his hand, and Blaine gasps, whipping his head forward.  He leans up to kiss Sebastian frantically and comes hard, biting Sebastian’s lip as his hand works him through it.  He takes a few moments to breathe, and when he looks up, Sebastian is cleaning up with Blaine’s t-shirt, and Blaine whacks him playfully on the side of the head.

“Hey asshole, that’s my t-shirt,” he says with a grin.

“Yeah, well, this was my lip, but you didn’t seem to care about that,” Sebastian replies, sticking his tongue out and then showing the little pricks of blood coming from where Blaine bit down as his orgasm hit.

“Oh my god, Sebastian, I’m so sorry.  Are you okay?”

He shrugs playfully, “I don’t know, I may never be able to kiss you again.”

“Oh I highly doubt that,” Blaine says with a smile and Sebastian laughs, lying back on the couch.  He nods and pulls Blaine on top of him, and everything starts again.

He wishes it could stay this way forever.

—-

“And last we have...Sebastian.”

He hears his boss state his name over the phone, the last order of business on the conference call and he sits up straighter, having been distracted by dread, knowing this moment was doomed to arrive.

“Um yeah, what can I answer for you?”

“What’s happening with the Broadway Works Project? We were supposed to have acquired them 6 months ago, I have agents waiting to foster that talent.”

He swallows hard and realizes he has no good answer for the predicament he’s found himself in. He loves this job, worked harder than he’s ever worked in his whole life to get where he is.  If his boss wants to take over a company, he should be doing whatever it takes to make that happen.  

But then there’s the picture of him and Blaine sitting on his desk, the two of them at Coney Island, Blaine looking up at Sebastian adoringly like he’s his whole world.

Sebastian can’t bear to tell him.

His whole world is a lie.

—-

Sebastian is standing in his apartment alone, staring out at the city, waiting for her to arrive.  Blaine had said he was taking a new client to tour some theaters around the city, get an idea of exactly the types of shows he’d like to get involved with and Sebastian was more than happy to have some time alone.

He needs to figure this out.

The buzzer signaling someone is at his door chimes brightly and he could almost curse the happy jingling tone.  He moves toward the door, knowing he’s dragging his feet.  Knowing she’s almost certainly thinking she’s coming there for something happy.  Knowing it’s the complete and total opposite.

When he opens the door, Santana is grinning, bottle of champagne in her hand, and even Sebastian is a little thrown off by this gesture.

“Hi, I’m so excited you called!”

She flings her arms around him for a hug and he hugs back, distracted and confused.  He takes the bottle of champagne and holds it out, “What’s this for?”

She enters the apartment, walking straight into the kitchen area to look for champagne flutes.

“Your engagement, of course!  I know some people might think it’s fast, but I’m so happy for you guys.  Blaine is just so happy with you, and he won’t be home for hours.  I made a very extensive tour list for him and Michael.”

Sebastian’s heart drops and he almost drops the bottle of champagne, but instead he places it gently on the counter and halts Santana’s search for the glasses.

“Santana, I need you to sit down.”

She looks taken aback; this isn’t exactly textbook behavior for someone who she thinks is about to ask the biggest question of his life, but as with Blaine, Sebastian has always been a bit of a mystery.  They sit down on the couch, facing each other from opposite ends and Sebastian starts, shaky.

“I haven’t been honest...with Blaine.”

She instantly looks angry. She never thought she and Blaine would ever be this close, but he is her best friend, the person she would protect over anyone.  But she tries to stay calm, hear him out.

“What do you mean, Sebastian?”

“When we met again, I was working for Mirage Talent Agency, and I still am.  I was at that event at MSG looking for partnerships.  My boss was looking to grow our business, so I had been talking to a few other reps from smaller agencies.  Nothing too exciting.  And then I saw Blaine.  And that night, we didn’t talk about Broadway Works Project, or my job, we just reignited that spark.  But the next day when I went into work, my boss told me about the company, said one of my co-workers saw me leave with Blaine and thought I was working with him on a deal to buy the Project.  When I said I wasn’t, he insisted I should. That’s when I came to see Blaine, I had to figure out what to do.”

“So what? Your first date was a test?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian sighs, frustrated, “I thought it might make it easier, if I could see Blaine in the light of day, realize we were only meant to last for a night, then I wouldn’t feel bad trying to acquire the company.  He hurt me by choosing Kurt so long ago, I thought maybe this was my chance to even things out.  But after that first date, I knew, I couldn’t hurt him.  I’ve been stalling at work for months, saying the deal isn’t ready, things aren’t right, but I can’t do that for much longer.  If my boss doesn’t see some results soon, I’m going to get fired, and Mirage might take over BWP anyway.  So I don’t know what to do.”

Santana is furious now, “Jesus Christ, Sebastian. You should know he’s been through this before!  You’re the one who told him that you’re not like Kurt, you’re different.  You don’t want anything but him.  What a load of shit.”

“That’s the thing, Santana, I know I want him!  I don’t want the company, I never did.  But I don’t know how to stop this without staying.  If I’m there, I can fix this, I can try to set my boss’ sights on another company.”

Santana just shakes her head sadly, “I don’t know if you can fix this.”

“I don’t either.”

Both of them look up suddenly from the couch and there’s Blaine, standing in the foyer hallway.  His eyes look hard and angry, but there is a weariness to him; Sebastian can tell that he’s been crying.

“Santana, would you mind?” It seems like that’s all he can get out, but she understands instantly.  She shoots Sebastian a glare before grabbing the champagne off the kitchen counter.  She puts one arm around Blaine, whispers “call me if you need me”, and then she’s gone.

“Blaine, please, let me explain.”

“I ran into Kurt.  He explained.”

Sebastian is taken aback.  “You still talk to Kurt?”

“I don’t, but if we’re going to make this about keeping secrets, you’re definitely going to lose, so I probably wouldn’t go there.”

Blaine is so angry he can feel his hands shaking.  He tries to calm down, remember the details of Kurt’s story so he can keep the facts straight.

Blaine is getting off the subway, having just left Michael after the most meticulously planned tour of the city’s theaters courtesy of Santana. He’s planning on heading back to the office to finish a few things up when he’s walking up the stairs to head outside and he sees him.

Kurt. Coming down the stairs.

They both freeze, passengers around them swearing and jostling them to move out of the way.  Kurt backs up a few steps so that he and Blaine are standing outside, away from the subway’s entrance.

“Hi Blaine, how are you?”

“I’m, um, I’m good, Kurt. How are you?”

Blaine can hardly believe this is the person he thought he was going to spend forever with.  They seem so separate, so distant.  He can barely remember a time when they were one, they are now so solidly two.

“I’m okay.  Rachel is about to be picked up by a new agent, I think.  They actually said that they work for BWP.”

Blaine is confused.  Broadway Works Project is a small organization, they’re like a family.  He would know if there was a new agent.

“I don’t think we’ve hired anyone new lately, do you know his name?”

Kurt shrugs, “I can show you a picture, he just followed Rachel and me on Twitter.”

He pulls out his phone and shows Blaine a picture of a man he has never seen before.  But underneath the picture is his heading that reads: “The newest agent for the Broadway Works Project, a subsidiary of Mirage Talent Agency; coming soon!.”

Mirage Talent Agency.  Or, as Blaine knows it, the company Sebastian works for.

His head is spinning and he knows he has to get out of here.  But he can’t lose it in front of Kurt.  He might explain why he’s so upset, explain that Sebastian is back in his life.

Explain that Kurt was right about him.

“Interesting,” he says distractedly, and if it comes off a bit rude, he can’t put forth the effort to care, “I’ll have to look into it.  Good seeing you Kurt, I gotta run.”

And that’s practically what he does.  He walks so fast he can hear his heart pounding in his ears.  He can tell he’s on the brink of tears, but he won’t lose it in the middle of the city.  Won’t let them get the best of his anger.

That has got to be saved for the person who hurt him most.

“Blaine, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“You’re right, he probably doesn’t know this. So tell me, Sebastian, who are you? Do you really work in PR?”

“No,” Sebastian admits readily and Blaine feels like someone has punched him in the gut, “my boss is Head of Acquisitions.  I’m a Talent Manager, I handle agents who handle clients.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about this? We practically do the same job!”

“I didn’t know how to explain,” Sebastian says, frustrated, “I didn’t even know what Broadway Works Project was when we met again that night, and then the next thing I knew, my boss was suggesting we acquire it.  I barely knew you then!”

“And yet, you took me to dinner, to plays, to fucking Coney Island and asked me question after question about my job.”

“I was getting to know you, Blaine.  That’s what people do when they date someone.”

“So this whole time we’ve been dating, what was that, like corporate espionage or something?” Blaine feels like he sounds crazy, words he never expected to say coming out of his mouth.

“Jesus, how could I be spying on you when I didn’t even expect to see you ever again?  I saw you that night and I thought fuck I missed him. I’ve worked my ass off to get where I am, but in that moment, everything changed course.  I am so in love with you, I knew it the second you walked back into my life.”

Blaine isn’t sure what to say. He is seething with anger, but it is rare to hear Sebastian be so open about how he feels. He knows his resolve is weakening, so he tenses up, asks the question he needs to know the answer to.

“Is Mirage taking over BWP?”

“It’s not a done deal,” Sebastian tries to sound confident, “I can fix it.  I can point my boss in another direction, I know how much Broadway Works means to you.”

“You do. And you knew how used I felt by Kurt and you did the exact same thing! I mean, Jesus, I love Broadway Works, but I don’t see why the fuck everyone in my life wants to take the control of it from me.”

“I don’t, I’m sorry, I was trying to prevent that,” Sebastian can feel that he’s practically begging now, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He can feel Blaine slipping from him by the second.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Blaine’s breath hitches. He is not going to cry in this moment. He takes a breath and finishes the statement.

“I can’t trust you anymore.”

“You don’t mean that,” Sebastian says calmly, the panic inside him threatening to erupt.

“Good luck with your deal, Sebastian. Maybe in some cruel twist of fate, you’ll end up being my boss.”

Blaine can’t even bear to look at him anymore, confronted with the fear that all it will take to forgive him is one look at Sebastian’s broken eyes, the way his body is slumped in resignation.

Blaine should’ve known better. Zebras can’t change their stripes.

And heartbreakers will always be just that.

—-

Santana is sitting on her couch, having a glass of wine when the knock comes. She rushes to her door, and on the other side, Blaine is standing, eyes red from crying.

When she sees him, she puts her arms around him and he starts sobbing all over again. They stand in her doorway for what feels like forever before Santana guides him in. She sets him up in her guest room, and asks if he needs anything.

“Fix my heart,” he sobs out and hers breaks.

She may not be able to fix his, but if she ever sees Sebastian again, she will shatter his.

—-

Blaine lays in Santana’s bed for a few days, staring at the ceiling, trying to make his heart stop hurting when he realizes he’s got to try to distract himself.

So he goes to work, tries to pretend everything is normal, and only Santana is the wiser.

But he watches Charlie in his office every single day, making frantic phone calls, pacing back and forth. He’s defending a company he didn’t even know was under attack and he’s woefully unprepared.

His heart aches, wishing there was something he could do about any of it. Wishing he could save the company he loves, the one who gave him a home.

Selfishly, wishing he could do the same for Sebastian.

“Should I tell him?” Blaine says quietly to Santana, motioning his head in the direction of Charlie’s office.

“Tell him what? You didn’t do anything wrong,” she replies.

“If I had never seen him again, if I hadn’t been with him, Charlie wouldn’t be having to fight to save us,” he laments.

“Blaine,” she says sternly, but caring, “maybe you dating Sebastian expedited the process a little, but bottom feeders like whoever Sebastian’s working for will always find a way to pick on the little guy. We’re underdogs, always have been. But we’ll be all right.”

He knows she’s not just talking about the company. But if he’s honest with himself, he’s not sure he believes her about any of it.

—-

Blaine thanks God for winter. A few days later, the biggest storm to hit New York in decades arrives, leaving him and Santana snowed into her apartment. He’s selfishly glad for the snow, seeing Charlie distraught and run ragged has been wearing on his conscience and although Santana told him none of it was his fault, he still felt responsible for bringing Sebastian, and thus, Sebastian’s company, into their lives.

He doesn’t allow himself to think about the fact that there were parts of Sebastian being in his life that were good. So good they keep him up at night, entering his dreams and even sometimes his conscious thoughts when he knows he’s alone.

“Maybe I’ll just be a spinster.”

“Don’t be dramatic, boys can’t be spinsters,” Santana says with what she calls “her most loving eye roll”.

“You told me not to be dramatic when he showed up at Broadway to take me to lunch. Maybe this is all your fault.”

She throws a cotton ball at him at this comment before continuing to paint her nails. He’s being mopey and sad, but at least he’s making jokes, which is a large step forward from the past few weeks. Part of her does feel bad that she encouraged him to go out with Sebastian, but she had seen the chemistry between them. Sebastian had shown up, like Blaine’s prince with the glass slipper and they had all fallen for it.

Blaine is lying on the couch, idly flipping through reality shows when his phone rings. He looks and sees that it’s Charlie and groans.

“Santana, can you deal with this?”

“If he wanted to talk to me, he would’ve called me,” she says, not looking up from her manicure.

“Pleaseeeee,” he says, turning over on his stomach and facing her with his biggest pout, “I’m heartbroken.”

She scoffs, but puts down the nail polish nevertheless.

“This shit is going to get old at some point, you know,” she says before greeting Charlie with a quick, “Blaine Anderson’s phone, this is his secretary.”

Blaine can hear Charlie laugh, and it’s such a welcome sound.  He can’t hear what his boss is saying, but he is loud, fast, talking excitedly.  Santana’s eyes are getting larger by the second, like she’s hearing some truly unbelievable news, and she tries to interrupt Charlie a few times, but he keeps chatting.  Finally, she gets a word in.

“The donor was anonymous?” Blaine sits up straighter, stares directly at her.  “I don’t know Charlie, but that’s absolutely incredible news!  It’s definitely going to make Blaine’s day, I’ll be sure to tell him.”

She hangs up and takes a breath, trying to process everything she just heard.  But Blaine is impatient.

“What donor? What did he call for?”

She laughs, incredulous, “Mirage was all set to buy us. And then they were stopped. By an anonymous donor who far exceeded what they were comfortable with bidding.”

Blaine takes a moment to let the news settle on him. He knows without a doubt who the donor is, but how?

And then the text comes through to his phone, which is sitting between him and Santana on the couch.  They both look at once.

It’s all yours. All of it.

—-

Blaine leaves Santana’s apartment in a rush, taking the train down to Sebastian’s building, where he’s stopped by the doorman before he can even enter.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Anderson, but Mr. Smythe no longer lives here.”

Blaine is shocked, “What? Where did he go?”

“Relocated,” the stern man replies, and then lower, almost as if he’s ashamed to say it, “To Brooklyn.”

Normally, Blaine is strictly subway, but today, he springs for a taxi. He has to get home. Fast.

—-

His three-story brownstone has a small stoop where kids play, moms gossip, college students study.

But when he walks up to the building, all he sees is Sebastian, sitting and waiting for him.  Looking absolutely gorgeous in the thinnest peacoat Blaine has ever seen.

“You do know it’s fucking freezing out here, right?” Blaine says, immediately removing his scarf and putting it around Sebastian’s neck. Sebastian stands up, looking at the scarf approvingly.

“Had nowhere else to go. I’m homeless,” Sebastian replies with a shrug.

Blaine raises an eyebrow, “So you’ve been sitting out here in the snow waiting for me?”

Sebastian sighs, “Okay, I may have gotten a hotel. But strictly for sleeping.” Blaine gives him a pointed stare and he continues, “Okay I may also have paid Luther to tell me when you showed up at my old place so I could be here.”

“Sebastian, how long have you been here?  And why is that your old place?”

“I sold it,” he says, matter-of-fact, “It took a few weeks to get the deal done and everything squared away, but I figured my father’s very heartfelt gesture of congratulations should reward someone who has actually done some good. Like a non-profit for dreamers who need a hand.”

He is self-deprecating but he is also looking at Blaine with the slightest shimmer of hope in his eyes.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Blaine offers, but his voice indicates how touched he feels by the gesture.

“I know it’s just money. But I made the donation anonymous so that Charlie can just keep running BWP the way he wants to, and that you guys can keep doing the work you were doing before…”

He stops.  Blaine knows he means before he came back into his life.  Before they intertwined their lives, told each other everything.  Well, Blaine thought they did anyway.

“I promised you I would fix it and I hope I did,” Sebastian offers, “Or at least made a start to.”

“Are we just talking about Broadway Works?” Blaine asks, stepping closer.

“I know I betrayed you.  You have every right not to trust me.  I did everything he did and broke your heart all over again, and if you never wanted to see me again, I’d understand.  But I had to risk everything at the hope that you might give me another chance.  I went ten years without seeing you the first time.  I couldn’t do that again.”

As they stand outside Blaine’s brownstone, a light snow has begun to fall, but all Sebastian can see are the few tears rolling down Blaine’s cheeks.  Last time they were together, Blaine swore to himself that he wouldn’t let Sebastian see him cry.  But if this is going to work, they have to be open and vulnerable with each other.  

And Sebastian seems to know that as he says, “I love you.  I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you from the moment we met. And I will spend the rest of my life begging you to forgive me for this.  If you’ll let me.”

Blaine laughs incredulously, but nods frantically, gripping the scarf at Sebastian’s neck and pulling him in to kiss him deep and long and slow.  It’s freezing and the snow is picking up, so they are alone on the street, but even in a crowded room, Blaine knows, they would only see each other.

After all, that’s how this started.

And as they pull apart, they are still entwined, Sebastian’s hands in the pockets of Blaine’s peacoat, Blaine’s arms still flung around Sebastian’s neck, he leans in to offer a suggestion.

“Take me home, Blaine.”

They climb the stairs two at a time to the third floor, losing clothing by the second, Sebastian muttering “leave it” against Blaine’s lips, Blaine running back down the stairs to pick everything up before any of his neighbors have the chance to see him half-naked and disheveled. By the time Blaine’s apartment door shuts, their clothes are all discarded and Sebastian is looking all around at the place he will now call home.

At least, he hopes Blaine will ask him to call it home.

“Hey.”

Blaine’s statement beckons Sebastian’s gaze away from the apartment and when his eyes fall on Blaine standing in the doorway, a small contented smile on his lips, he isn’t sure how he ever looked away in the first place.

“Come on, our bedroom’s this way.”

His whole life, Sebastian has always been a strong advocate for mine and yours.

He’s beginning to think ours doesn’t sound too bad.

#seblainiversary2018 #seblaineaffairs #seblaine #future #should i stay or should i go #sebastian smythe #blaine anderson #rating: m

[dontmakemegetthepoker]

Garbage Crack Fic -Teatime/Stibbons (4)

Clients tended to be scarce during holiday seasons, Hogswatch in particular. Beneficiaries just weren't interested in obtaining the services of an Assassin when they were surrounded by friends and family and happily stuffing themselves with food. It made the inhumation bell a particular, and glorious, rarity.

Jonathan could hardly wait.

On the other side of the desk, Lord Downey looked over the report of the inhumation. Occasionally he'd look up with a frown or raised eyebrow, and then get back to the paper.

"I suppose you had little option but to incorporate magic."

"It was a highly unusual client," Teatime agreed. "He would not have been vulnerable to traditional means."

"And you're sure, then, that he's been inhumed?" Downey gave a look which emphasized the great offense of lying about such a thing.

"I'm sure he had been, Sir," Teatime said, brightly. "And with elegance."

"Had?"

"He appears to have been resurrected, Sir. Which should not be held against me." Teatime sat up a bit straighter. "Assassination rule number 72: Resurrection and zombification are neither the responsibility nor fault of an Assassin, nor do their occurrence constitute reason for delayed or denied payment. Rule 72 A: If a beneficiary is dissatisfied that an inhumation has failed to prevent reanimation, they may register the client a second time."

"Look that one up before you got here, eh?"

Teatime looked puzzled. "No sir, I thoroughly read the rule book. As instructed."

It was a first day statement to students. Though, of course, it was hardly expected for them to do so to the point of memorization. But Teatime had never been most students of course.

"Yes... And I suppose we did have a deal with this."

Teatime brightened. "Yes sir."

Downey tapped the papers against the desk. "I'll see this gets filed. Talk to Mr Winvoe about your payment. Minus Guild fees, of course."

He nodded, happily. "I understand."

"One last thing," Lord Downey said. He laced his fingers as Teatime sat back down. "It seems that you finished the inhumation several days ago."

"I required recovery time, due to unforeseen circumstances."

"You listed a pet in your home. A Guild representative went to feed it, when you did not return as expected. As per Guild guidelines, of course."

"Sure she appreciates it as much as I do, sir."

Lord Downey sat forward a bit. "They reported that it appeared that you hadn't been home for some time."

"I've been recovering off site. I will likely be there a while longer." He added quickly, "I will collect the animal, sir. I do appreciate the Guild caring for these things, but I don't want to be a burden."

"Of course... And where is this...?"

"It's reputable, sir." Teatime stood, and bowed his head respectfully. "I must be off. Thank you for the opportunity."

"Yes. Have a good evening."

In an instant, Teatime had left the office.

Downey made a note to place a search out on him. Until he fully settled on what should be done about Mr Teatime, he was hardly the sort that should be allowed to disappear.

*****

Ponder had woken up alone. To be expected, really, since Assassins weren't the sort to stay around past the point of physical necessity.

Being the logical sort that he was, he was mostly disappointed at the loss of data to collect. Wasn't he? He hadn't thought someone like Teatime was looking for companionship, much less...

No, definitely nothing like that.

Besides, he had a great deal of work to do on Hex. It'd become disinterested in cheddar, lately. That'd previously been a powerful motivator for difficult spells, and if it wouldn't do anymore...

His efforts were interrupted by a hard rap on the window.

Ponder jumped, and looked over to find Teatime hanging from the frame by one hand. His other hand seemed to be holding a great deal of packages.

Teatime motioned, impatiently, with his head to open the window already. The students looked nervously between themselves and Ponder. After a moment of hesitation, Ponder tried to motion that this particular window didn't open. He pointed that Teatime would have to go down and around to the front door of the High Energy Magic Building.

With a roll of his good eye so large it used his entire head, and a few choice words that couldn't be heard through the glass, Teatime and fell to the ground. Ponder hurried to the front to let him in.

"Do you have any idea how long it's been since I had to actually search for someone?" he said, firmly, as he put his packages down and brushed snow off his shoulder. "Been outside a half hour looking in windows. And it's storming."

Ponder shrink under the stare. "Sorry, er.. we, ah... We do have a front door..." His eyes darted down to the pile of items, and landed on an animal carrier. "Is that a cat?"

Hex began to rapidly print out messages, most of which amounted to +++NO NO NO+++.

"Assassins never use front doors. And even if we did, I wouldn't know which front door to use," Teatime said, firmly. "And this place is so haywire that-"

"You can't have a cat in here!" Ponder insisted, no longer passively waiting to interject a point. "Hex is..."

"Excuse me?" Teatime frowned, and looked around the side of the machine where Ponder had pointed. "Oh, the mouse. Yes." He knelt down to the pet carrier and started to open the door.

"No, stop!"

Behind him, Hex went mad with refusals, its gears whirling angrily as the ants raced about inside. The students did all the could to, fruitlessly, try and calm it.

The all of them stopped as Teatime pulled out a brown rat.

"Meet Bob," Teatime announced, proudly, as he held the rodent up.

The rat turned its head to look at Ponder with its single eye. It twitched its whiskers at him. Hex started to whir again.

"It's a female."

"A female named Bob," Teatime insisted. "Yes."

Ponder nodded. "That's much different than a cat, then." He paused to look at the readout. "Seems Hex wants to meet Bob. Or, the mouse part of Hex, anyway."

"Fine, fine," Teatime said, and let Bob down towards the nest. "I need that medicine, anyway."

"Oh... Yes, of course. Come on, lay down over here."

Teatime shed his coat, thick from melting snow, on the hook in the hall. Once he was in the spare room, a grand assortment of weapons were likewise placed neatly on a side table. And only after they were exactly as he wanted them did he remove his silk shirt, undershirt. He gave into the pain that came from a drop in adrenaline and laid on the bed.

Ponder had long over-mixed the salve as he watched this. The students passed looks that he didn't notice as he headed over and began to rub the solution in.

"So where'd you go?" He asked.

"Loose ends to tie up, in particular getting the Guild out of free reign of my apartment," he said. "Since it seems I'll be here a while, with my back aching and all."

"Seems so. So clothes and all that?"

"Primarily." Teatime nuzzled his head into the pillow as he started to fall into a deep relaxation. "I did pick up a few things."

"Oh?"

"Mm. Got you some proper soap, for one."

Ponder could feel his cheeks get pink. "Soap? Why would you...?"

"Whatever they give you here is drying you out horribly. It's why you have so many split ends."

"I, er... I have split ends?"

Teatime didn't look over, but Ponder could just tell the look he was meant to get.

"I'll try it out tonight," he agreed.

"Good. Also picked up some cheese."

"You did?"

"You said the cheddar wasn't working the other day," Teatime said, nearly asleep now. "Have a lot of Quirmian contacts at the Guild, and they know cheese better than nearly everything else. I picked up a few things they said might work."

"Thank you... I'm sure Hex will appreciate it... Much as it can appreciate anything."

"Mm."

Ponder could feel the students eyes on him, so didn't linger after Teatime fell asleep. Even if he quite wanted to.

*****

Teatime had been right about the soap, it seemed. Ponder had never given much thought to what he cleaned himself with, so long as it did in fact get him clean. He's used the exceedingly utilitarian supply UU kept in stock, and had for years.

After his shower, he found that for the first time he didn't simply feel clean. Everything about him felt softer, and outright refreshed.

It gave him an almost floating step as he sat down to run Hex's evening checks.

"How is the new cheese doing?" Ponder asked into the speaker.

Hex whirred and put out. +++Much Better Than What You Gave Me Before.++++

"Well, Assassins are known for their taste."

Even if Teatime didn't carry himself like any Assassin Ponder had ever seen. Seemingly despite his best efforts to appear to be their version of normal.

+++Yes, Good.+++ Hex paused to whir thoughtfully, and then added, +++You Should Keep Him.+++

Ponder's face went red again. "Mind your business and get on with the checks."

+++This Arrangement Has The Potential To Be Beneficial For Both Of Us. If You Are Willing To Acknowledge It.+++

"Hush. Diagnostic check #1."

+++At Least Find Out Where He Bought The Cheese.+++

"Hex."

+++And However He's Getting You That Relaxed. It's Very Effective.+++

"Hex."

+++Maybe You Should Ask Again, If You're So Tense.+++

"Hex. Now."

+++Beginning Diagnostic Test #1. You Grouch.+++

[nominalbutler]

Sebaciel Week, Day 1 (late) – Food

(Several days late now, this is an excerpt from my ongoing modern AU ft. lots of domestic sebaciel and many OOC moments for fluff’s sake) 

…

“I haven’t eaten all day.”

It was an innocent comment, just something Ciel realized and mentioned off-handedly as he climbed out of the front seat of Sebastian’s Gran Coupe, though he regretted opening his mouth once he caught a glimpse of the other man’s expression.

“Are you hungry?” Sebastian asked, almost eagerly. “I can fix you something.”

Of course he could, Ciel thought. Sebastian loved to cook, especially for Ciel – the kid ate with such gusto, scarfing down plate after plate, sometimes forgoing the fork and knife set out for him in favor of fingers and tearing teeth. As he cleaned up the drops of sauce and stray bits of carbs that Ciel would leave in his wake, Sebastian had to admire the body’s metabolism; Ciel never seemed to gain any weight, matter how much rich food and dessert he consumed.

Shrugging, Ciel pushed the car door shut and headed for the house, unlocking the back door with Sebastian’s set of keys. Sebastian followed, and Ciel could already see the culinary cogs turning, illuminating Sebastian’s normally somber mahogany eyes. Half heartedly, he kicked the door open wide enough for Sebastian to sidle into the kitchen behind him with his groceries. The reusable canvas bags were already piled up in the backseat when Sebastian picked Ciel up from work, and the young man had no idea what to expect for that night.

Barely through the doorway, and Sebastian was already brainstorming ideas for their dinner as he followed Ciel into the kitchen. The younger of the two settled in to listen to them all, a mildly disinterested expression in his face. Sebastian suggested a pesto risotto, of course made with with fresh basil from his garden, with roasted chicken and vegetables; crab-stuffed mushrooms with whole roasted cauliflower and whipped goat cheese; chorizo-stuffed chicken maybe, with spiced braised lentils and tomatoes; brown butter shrimp with parmesan basil corn orzo; that one-pot ranch chicken and rice dish that he knew Ciel liked.

This is how it always was. Whenever Ciel was over, Sebastian insisted on cooking – breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert, and some snacks in between. Actually, Sebastian insisted on cooking all the time, even when it was just him, alone in his tiny house in the middle of nowhere. Ciel had never seen a carry-out container in the fridge or in the trash; no pre-prepared or processed foods in the pantry; definitely nothing that could be made in a microwave. Ciel once called him a low-rent Hannibal Lecter, minus the cannibalism and rabid manipulation. Before he met Sebastian, the majority of Ciel’s meals came from a box or a drive-thru. It was easy and cheap, and he had to wonder, didn’t Sebastian ever get tired of this whole rigmarole?

“I don’t care,” Ciel said abruptly, cutting Sebastian off before he descended too far down the oubliette. “Why can’t we just like order a pizza or something?”

"I don’t think any place would deliver all the way out here,” Sebastian answered. Ciel shook his head and wandered into the living room, kicking off his unflattering black sneakers with the regulation non-slip soles and slumping down heavily on the couch. “I can make a dough in like, ten minutes though, if you want to help me fix one,” the older man offered, sticking his head into the room to gauge Ciel’s reaction.

"No, that’s not what I meant,” came the exasperated response, followed by a frustrated sigh, two beautiful blue eyes rolling in annoyance as Ciel muttered, “Whatever.” Sebastian raised one fine eyebrow as an inquisition, and Ciel sank further into the couch. “It’s fine,” he insisted, reaching for the television remote with a resigned look on his face. “Make whatever you want. You know I’ll eat it.”

Sebastian frowned, but simply nodded and turned back to the kitchen, ruminating on Ciel’s mood as he finished putting away his groceries. He knew that Ciel was not used to being waited on hand and foot, though the kid had adapted to the lifestyle quite well in the past few months. He never hesitated to tell Sebastian what he wanted to eat, what he was in the mood for. And when he wasn’t sure, Sebastian was all too happy to sit back and rattle off dish after dish until something piqued the insatiable young man’s interest. Ciel always seemed to enjoy sitting at the counter, drinking a beer or a cocktail Sebastian had prepared, and watching his partner cook for him while they shared stories from the day. The junk food that Sebastian had bought at Ciel’s request went untouched in the cupboards for weeks – who needs Doritos and microwaveable mac and cheese when you have your own personal chef?

Suddenly struck with an ingenious thought, Sebastian slunk away silently to the garage, where a second refrigerator stood, fully stocked with drinks and frozen goods. Digging to the bottom of the freezer, he was relieved to find a frosty DiGiorno pizza that had been in there for God knows how long, but hey – it’s frozen, right? And with so many preservatives, it would never expire. With a satisfied smile on his face, Sebastian returned to the house with the cold pizza package in one hand, a six-pack of Ciel’s favorite beer in the other. While the oven warmed up, he quickly set to whipping up something sweet to follow. Dessert had always been his specialty. He used the unopened package of Oreos in the cupboard to make a crust, and fixed a divinely sweet no-bake cheesecake while the pizza cooked, grease sizzling and pepperonis sweating in the oven.

"Wanna watch a movie or something?” Sebastian asked as he re-entered the living room, handing a bottle of beer and a frosted glass out to Ciel.

"What about dinner?”

"I figured we could eat out here tonight, if that’s okay with you.” Sebastian brought out a bottle of wine for himself, taking a whiff of the fine ruby liquid before pouring a generous amount into a long-stemmed glass.

"Fine with me,” Ciel replied. “What are we having?” His magnetic blue eyes widened, and then softened when Sebastian retired to the kitchen for a third time and returned with the still-steaming pizza on a large ceramic serving platter. “Did you make this?” He asked as Sebastian hands him a napkin and a paper plate.

"Nope.”

Ciel smiled and shook his head in a reluctant sort of way. Sebastian was good, he had to admit. He didn’t need a three-course meal every night, or fresh-squeezed orange juice with his French toast in the morning – that wasn’t why he was seeing Sebastian. The man’s talent in the kitchen was merely an added bonus, much like his talent in the bedroom.

The room was peacefully silent for a moment, save for the subtle sounds of mastication and the clink of the round pizza cutter on the plate. “It doesn’t matter to me what we eat,” Ciel explained as he reached for another serving, picking a piece of sliced pepperoni off and popping it in his mouth. “Just that we’re eating it together, you know? You don’t have to go all out for me all the time; I’m fine with whatever.”

"Okay, I understand,” Sebastian replied. “I’ll try not to go overboard in the kitchen anymore.”

"Well, I never said that,” Ciel warbled through a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni and sausage. “Go crazy if you want, you just don’t have to do it every night, okay? Listen, I like when you cook for me, but it’s not a big deal if you don’t. Like this,” he nodded to the pizza in front of them, his now empty glass and the bottle of wine Sebastian had brought out, the spy action-thriller playing on the TV, “this was perfect.”

Sebastian smiled. “I’m glad you liked it. I guess I just get… I don’t know, excited whenever you’re over, and I want to treat you to something nice…”

"Yeah, you always act like its some big special occasion!” Ciel protested.

"To me, it is,” Sebastian shrugged. “But I get what you’re saying. Next time, we’ll eat out. We can bring the leftovers home and have them for lunch the next day. How does that sound?” He leaned over and planted a cute little kiss on Ciel’s cheek, which inevitably made the boy scoff and roll his eyes.

"Yeah, that sounds good,” he replied, returning Sebastian’s gesture with a kiss on the lips. He didn’t need to be spoiled, he didn’t need to be doted on; he just needed Sebastian, and the sooner this guy figured that out, the better. “You made dessert for tonight though, right?”

Sebastian laughed and kissed Ciel again. “Oh baby boy, of course I did.”

#sebacielweek #sc #my stuff #j writes

[the-potions-fanatic]

For the Drabble thing uh 150 is Make up your own up to you or me? Um if it's the latter could I possible get a shippy Gabe and Ivor thing? like gabe saying "You work too hard, take a break" or something? I love your writing and it's nice.

(( WOW THIS IS SUPER LATE, Sorry to keep you waiting for what now, a year? anon. But here it is, the Gabriel/Ivor Fic or the Enchanted Sword fic.))

There it was again, the same shattering sound of glass and the small shards hitting against the table and Ivor’s various vials he kept close by.  It’s funny how even after all these years Gabriel still managed to have an ear for what sounds where what when it came to Ivor and his potions, then again when it’s followed by the Achemist’s cursing it solidifies that something has gone awry. Well, the ‘cursing’ was something in a language that Gabriel didn’t rightly understand, but he assumed if Ivor switched it up from the common tongue that it most likely was a curse. Regardless of what his lover spoke, he could still tell from the tone that it wasn’t good. With that he moved to knock on the faded oak door and hesitated before turning the nob and opening the door. The room itself opened up into seemingly perpetual darkness, Ivor has always had a bad habit of working in the dark. Last Gabriel remembered it’s because Ivor said it ‘helped him concentrate’ but Gabriel knew it was just the others excuse for not turning on the lights and being at that work table for too long; another thing he disliked about Ivor’s work was the fact he stayed up too late and nearly destroyed that room on occasion. Feeling up the wall till he found the slider switch for redstone lamp, he watched as the room slowly illuminated to show Ivor angrily shoving some broken vials off his work surface and to the floor. Perking a brow to all the broken glass haphazardly tossed to the floor in a more than alarming pile, Gabriel made his way over to  Ivor and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You do know i’m not going to be the one to clean this up, yeah?” Gabriel said as his eyes wandered over the desk to see if he could guess at what Ivor was working on, but nothing other than the regular potions and vials lay there seemingly untouched by his Alchemist. “Gabriel please I’m working, and yes I know you’re not going to clean this up, I wouldn’t let you anyways due to the contents that were swirling inside. Well were, anyway.” With a defeated sigh ivor moved to grab another empty bottle from the shelf just above his work station, and placed it on a hot plate drenched in a variety of colours from past potions. "So what are you working on? I can probably guess something impossible as always as you’re typically like this when things are giving you trouble. Another Hybrid potion? or maybe some new healing potions or something?“ He said moving to lean against the table and make it known he wasn’t going to leave so easily without some explanation to what the other was up to. Be  it as it may that ivor is extremely skilled in potions, Gabriel still worried the other was going to get seriously injured, and he always wanted to know what he was up to just in case.

Sure, he worried more than he should but given Ivor’s past potions that once left him blind for a few days to ones that made his limbs invisible for a time. It just had him extra cautious as he wanted to be ready to help when he could, being a warrior and savior of people wasn’t and easy job, neither was baby-sitting ivor, but being both in one sitting was exhausting, both mentally and physically. Gabriel knew Ivor knew this, and appreciated it when the Alchemist took breaks and even offered to have dinner together,and maybe nap for a little while with the him. Those moments made Gabe feel at ease.Hearing the snap of Ivor’s fingers he was brought back into the moment. “Hm? sorry.” He smiled sheepishly as he did tend to go into his head like this. Again, Ivor knew this and shot him an annoyed glance before shaking his head in and turned to face him fully. “I’m not working on a 'hybrid-potion’ or any healing potions, I’ve lost my patience to really deal with those two right now. But no, i’m working on a potion that can accelerate plant growth. It sounds simple but it isn’t. Any time I go to introduce it to plant-life it reacts negatively and either explodes or kills the plant almost instantly. Though as much as it frustrates me it is interesting to see it kill the plant like fire, that is something to note. But it’s beginning to get on my nerves by just how many bottles it’s destroyed.” He growled somewhat as he motioned to the gathering of glass on the floor.  "Regardless, I don’t need you in here distracting me.“ Ivor motioned to the door as he really just wanted to get this damned thing to work and gloat about how he was able to do it to the local farmers of Endercon Village, or whatever it was called. You know, he really should get the name of this place. After all he has been living here enough to see a good few years of holidays, adventures, and well a relationship with Gabriel. Hearing the purpose of this potion was enough to make Gabriel relax for the most part, his shoulders slouched in a more casual manner as he looked down to Ivor and smirked seeing his shooing. "Mkay, fine. But I’ll be checking up on you from time to time, and calling you downstairs for dinner. I’m making your favorite, Veggie sir fry with some potatoes on the side.” He said hopeful to coax him out of this room and downstairs to actually eat today. For a moment Ivor’s face fell into a sigh before it lit up with an amused smile. “You do realize you can eat meat around me Gabriel, just due to my vegetarianism doesn’t mean you cannot eat meat anymore.” He pointed out, even though they’ve been together for three years he still felt the need to express this. “I know, but it’s the veggies that actually get your string bean butt downstairs to actually eat for once, and since we’re on the topic of you getting out of this room; how about we go out tomorrow for a jog or maybe even just for a walk . You know how I feel about you up in your little tower for so long, makes me wonder if I will come up here to find you’ve turned into some creature of the dark and never see my handsome Ivy, sleep deprived boyfriend again.” He smirked as he stood upright from leaning against the desk in favor of crossing his arms. “Gabriel you know I hate that nickname, but only a little less when you say it. I’ll think about tomorrow, okay?.” There was a paused as ivor shifted things around on his desk before turning back to Gabriel. “I’ll be down for dinner, I enjoy your cooking when everything isn’t burnt.” He smirked before shooing him. “I promise i’ll be down.” He kept his attention to Gabriel as he did need a break from staring at his own hands for hours on end. “You promise? fine. but if you’re not downstairs you’re going to have to worry about a lot more than the broken glass on your floor.” It wasn’t much of a threat in Gabe’s eyes but enough to get the Alchemist to nod and shift in his chair. With that he did leave Ivor be and went back downstairs. Hell, going up and down these stairs so frequently was a work out in itself, Gabriel and Ivor weren’t young men anymore, both were at least heading into their 60’s and old bones still rattled with soreness every now and again.But hey at least their looks never faded, he guessed that was a good  thing though he’d rather it be reversed where he was still an agile young thing. Ivor was always old at heart as he had 'bad knees’ and typically lived like he was already 60 back then, but as he is now he looks to be the same minus his hair having a fading variety of blacks and greys. It was obvious they were both much older as they shared similar hair colouring and fading, but both were referred to as 'grandpa’ by the members Order of the stone’s kids. Though being able to tell the stories of the past to the kids was a nice touch to being old, how amazed they were at their adventures and even more so when they were told stories about their own parents.The thought alone made Gabriel smile as he made his way off the last step and quickly into the kitchen to prepare dinner. As he cooked he could hear the indescribable rage from upstairs, he chuckled a bit at it to be honest. As experienced as he was with potions and even 'magic potions’ or whatever he called them, times like this when potions gave him issues were pretty funny. His made was pulled back into reality as the smell of almost burning the veggies made him focus more so on both not burning the food, and not burning their home down. The time came when Gabriel set the table, and dished out their respective servings of Veggies that he figured the other was still busied in his work. With an annoyed sigh leaving his throat in a huff, he moved to climb the stairs up to Ivor’s little lair and without knocking opened the door. Surprisingly enough the lights were still on and his lover was unsurprisingly still at his work table. hurriedly made his way over, Gabriel checked his lover out to make sure he was still breathing and not doubled over dead . His relief came in the rise and fall of Ivor’s chest as it seemed the work was indeed too much for him as he was fast asleep. Thankfully away from the hot-plat that was still on, He of coursed promptly turned it off and pushed it as far away from Ivor as he could, just in cased he moved in his sleep. Moving again he opened a small closet area in the corner of the room and pulled out a spare blanket, this has occurred so often that Gabriel began to stock the closet full of pillows and blankets. He draped the heavy blue blanket over Ivor and moved to brush his hand through the others hair before leaning down and giving his head a quick peck. “You work too hard.” He smiled as he softly rubbed the others back and moved to dim the lights and head downstairs to go and have dinner.  

#mcsm ivor #mcsm Gabriel #Enchanted Sword #fic #Gabriel/Ivor #anonymous #Sentence formed story #Mun's Fic

[anenglishmaninontario]

Campers Cove 27th to 29th July

Day 1

So part of what I wanted to do while I was out here was to get myself doing things which I hadn’t done before or at least hadn’t done for a long time.  I reckon this counts.  When I mentioned to certain people that we were planning on doing a swathe of camping I was greeted with a few titters and lots of “I can’t really picture you camping” (you know who you are you cheeky cow).  I spent much of my younger days on camping trips across Europe in what amounted to a canvas sack on wheels so this kind of camping is going to come pretty easy to me.

Just to make sure though, the first trip was less than an hour away to Camper’s Cove near  Point Pelee National Park along Lake Erie. With the dogs safely ensconced in the boarding kennel and a fully stocked camper made ready off we went.

Campers Cove is a great little privately run campground on the shores of the lake full of a mixture of RV’s of every size, some tents and some permanent residents marking territory with a boggling array of gnomes, fountains, palm trees which lit up at night (and which rather unfortunately couldn’t fail to remind anyone as immature as myself and Lauren of anything other than a collection of genitals waving in the breeze) and all manner of mail boxes in every shape and magnitude.  It was very easy to see why someone would choose to retire here and spend everyday in what is essentially a massive playground for those with enough money to buy a decent sized RV but not quite enough for a 10 berth yacht in the Mediterranean.  We stopped off at the camp shop to register and making note of the souvenir clothing and ice-cream counter headed out to our pitch.

I watched from the sidelines the first time of setting up so as to check out how it was done (and so that I could snatch a sneaky cigarette) and it was something of a surprise.  The familiar folding out of beds and clicking of support poles I was ready for.  Less expected was that once the door was opened and the awning extended, out came a carpet followed by tables, a washing area, strings of fairy lights, recycling boxes, a cooking tripod, an electric cooler complete with radlers, beer and caesars, boxes of games equipment, enough chairs to hold a moderately sized pep-rally and lastly a quarter-sized national flag complete with bungie cords to be strapped to the nearest tree.  I definitely refute the suggestion that I cannot cope with the outdoors and that I would flounder if asked to rough it but I have to say that if this is what camping looks like then this will be a breeze.  When I was a kid, camping meant close quarters living, waking up cold and knotted in my own sleeping bag, tinned food, UHT milky, a suspicious looking bucket filled with blue chemicals which served as a toilet and being unable to wash for days on end until enough courage was built up to use the communal showers on French camping sites.  I’m less bashful these days as I’m certain some people may know but even now I think I would have difficulty using such open facilities particularly if camping with people I know well.  Strangers are less difficult to disrobe in front of.  Not quite sure what that says about me.  “Hello we’ve never met. Ta daaaaaaa”.

I digress.  Once the camper is set up every bed is about queen size, has its own power adapter, lamp, window zip blinds and curtains.  I will be at the front end furthest from everyone else in case the snoring bursts any eardrums in the vicinity although the AC and fan are likely to smother any of that noise to everyone’s relief. There is a fully functioning kitchen and shower-room and enough beer in the fridge to test the powers of even the most ambitious alcoholic.

Having excelled at my role of hands-off set up engineer the chairs are set up around the fire-pit and a beer is cracked open and a drawing competition commences.  Mom shouts out scenarios and we draw something we think reflects what she has said.  I soon discover that drawing from imagination is something I haven’t done since I was 10 and and let’s face it, it shows.  Luckily I’m up against kids about a quarter of my age so I hold my own pretty well considering.  The sketching attempts end up in the fire-pit (so that no evidence remains) and I make a mental note to take a You-Tube course on basic drawing skills before attempting anything like this again. Two beers later and the artistic activities are replaced by games so lets see if I do any better with those.

In short, no not really but it was highly entertaining.  We start with a game of badminton at which I suck like a Dyson on heat but which has the distinction of taking me from a lowly position of visiting friend up to Uncle Alex and briefly to the great heights of Badminton God and back down to my usual moniker of Mr Alex once it is discovered that luck plays more of a part in my success than any genuine skills. Still it is good exercise.  The first real energetic movement since I arrived here (apologies to my personal trainer for undoing all his hard work).  I am already familiar with this game but by far more entertaining is what seems to be a campground perennial over here, the game of Baggo.  Almost every other RV seems to have a version of this set up on the grass.  If, like me, you are unfamiliar with this game I’ll describe it for you.  In essence this is basically a game of ‘get the bean bags in the hole’.  A description that belies a game of great sophistication and complexity.  Ok perhaps not but its history and variations, not to mention the vast array of double entendres that litter its rules and scoring system make it worthy of mention.  As already noted, the aim is basically to drop a bean bag in a hole, at approximately 30 feet or at the very least to get it on the board.  A bag in the hole scores 3, a bag on the board scores one.  There are many variations on how the scoring system seems to work which I discovered when playing against other families at other times but the rules around here seem to be that any score that both players get cancel each other out (i.e. I get one in the hole and so does the guy I’m playing with then nobody gets the point and we ‘wash’, ooh-er missus).  The player with the highest score after an innings of four bags takes the total score minus the opponents score.  The aim is to get to exactly 21, no more no less. Trickier than it sounds.  In a rather highfalutin history provided by Wikipedia, it is said that the game originated as Cornhole using bags of corn in the later 1880’s and, to cut a very short story even shorter it is now called Baggo, presumably to avoid getting it confused with certain body parts.  Some of its more fruity terminology is outlined below :-

Cow Pie-  bag lands on the board – 1 point

Backdoor/Dirty Rollup – bag bounces over another players bag into the hole – 3 points

Baggo – bag goes in the hole.  Airmail is when it doesn’t touch the sides – 3 points

Cornfusion – players cannot agree on the score – punch up ensues

Cornholio  – bag goes in the hole, same as a baggo but mainly used by disciples of Beavis and Butthead – 3 points

Cornucopia –  player gets all four bags into the hole in succession – in the Wells family this automatically wins the match.  In other situations this is simply 12 points

Dirty Bag – bag bounces off the ground onto the board.  Presumably if this bounces on to the board then into the hole this is a Dirty Backdoor Bag but this is not clarified – 1 or 3 points depending on where it ends up

Slippery Granny – 3 bags in a row on the board.  I have no idea what the provenance of such a term might be but she’s worth 3 points whoever she is

Triple Dip – 3 bags in the hole in one round – 9 points and no further comment

Madden –  when a player violently tosses their bag at another player – no points and possible being sent to bed early

Perrego –  when a player refuses to play Baggo as they are intimidated by their opponent.  It is debatable whether this actually makes them a ‘player’ – match forfeited

Wash – all players get the same in the hole or on the board – no score

I’m sorry but if none of those raised even the slightest immature snorting of your tea then we can no longer be friends.

Having won some and lost more matches of Baggo and scored more than a few Slippery Grannies and holding myself back from more Maddens than I am willing to admit to, a few rounds of poker ensue until it is time to retire the children and sit by a blazing campfire being eaten into insanity by mosquitos and drinking ourselves into a position of not caring.  I’ll leave aside the somewhat bizarre notion of lighting a campfire in 25 degree heat and say only that it is one of the most relaxing pastimes I have come across here thus far.  The temperature remains so high that at bedtime my second favourite pastime is discovered by opening all the window zippers in the bed leaving only the insect netting and sleeping essentially out in the open looking up at the stars.

  Day 2

Another day, another new experience.  Well several really.  Firstly, campfire traybake breakfast.  Fabulous.  Secondly, in all my recollections, I have definitely never been sat on a tractor trailer being taken on a 5 km/h tour of a campsite at 10 o’clock in the morning.  Pretty sure it wasn’t on my bucket list but if it ever was I can certainly tick that one off now.  If they have a suggestions box I imagine it is full of tiny bits of paper with the word ‘cushions’ on them but hey, it was an experience, if not quite the rollercoaster that the photo would suggest.  The third and most gratifying of the recollections was later in the day at the beach.  I mean naturally I have been to a beach before, and many with less gravel than this one.  Beaches on the ocean, beaches by the lake, beaches up a hillside.  All are familiar to me.  What has so far been less familiar to me is actually taking a chair to the beach and actually planting it in the lake.  With temperatures this high it has to be said that this is genius.  Unhinged perhaps.  Precarious most definitely.  But given the temperature even when the clouds come over is in the high 20’s, depositing one’s chair actually in the water is still genius.  No need to move, no need to go swimming, unless the mood strikes.  Cooling down is as easy as picking up a Bubba flask of sneakily concealed radler, leaning back and letting the water come up as far as your tits.  Luckily for anyone reading this, the act of submersing oneself in semi-dress in a lake dampens the ability to carry a camera a little.  Modern mobiles are waterproof but I didn’t want mine floating away in a rip-tide so luckily for you all there is no photo evidence to strike you blind.  There will be photos of other people doing this on a future post though just to make sure it is clear that this is not the invention of my fevered imagination.

  Day 3

Following another fine evening of games, cards, drink and burning stuff we are getting ready to pack it all up and head back.  Getting things set up had been a mixture of random chucking stuff out of the truck and the camper and arranging it once retrieved.  The take-down was far more ritualistic.  Everything has to fit in its place so must be correctly folded.  Anything that has touched the ground must be brushed off.  Recycling must be separated and taken off to the appropriate place, unused firewood safely stored for future use.  Grey and black water tanks must be emptied. The Wells’s have a well oiled machine and within an hour we were on our way home.

So overall, camping? Yeah no problem.  In fact it is something I feel I ought to do more of when I return to the UK.  There is something therapeutic about dragging your life down the road on wheels and then feeling like you are in the middle of nowhere and living a simpler life.  If I thought this was the peak of the trip so far though, where we were headed next would blow my mind.

Training Camp Campers Cove 27th to 29th July Day 1 So part of what I wanted to do while I was out here was to get myself doing things which I hadn't done before or at least hadn't done for a long time.