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EPILOGUE

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The Jaguar's one of the finer cars Hunter has ever driven. He was never a car man -nor was Sebastian, he suspects- but when your father buys you a Jaguar Roadster you don't complain. He knows how much Sebastian loved this car, and even though losing it might bear little significance now, he can't help but gloat that he got his hands on it. Hunter Clarington doesn't lose.

He parks the car in front of the townhouse, the same place Sebastian used to park it.

Rachel's car stands parked out front as well, and he wonders why she's here. Surely her brother's broken heart still needed nurturing.

"Carl." He winks at the doorman. "Beautiful morning, don't you agree?"

Carl scowls. "If you say so, sir."

He smiles; Carl's rude behavior can't destroy the mood he's in—he won, he got what he wanted, and little else mattered. He had the place to himself, he was free to do what he wanted, and he was still quite determined to destroy Brody. Maybe it was time he got a little more direct about it. After all, if he could defeat Sebastian, Brody would cause few problems.

Rachel's not in the living room, which is odd, because she knows better than to sneak into his office unattended. But that's where he finds her.

"Rachel. What can I do for you?"

"I came to tell you I'll no longer be needing your mentoring."

He blinks in surprise. "Is that so?"

Rachel smiles, and folds her hands behind her back. "Jesse will be doing that from now on."

For some reason he gets the feeling he won't like what's coming next.

"Along with Brody."

The name alone hits like lightning, but he controls himself. If it's really Rachel's intention to piss him off she'll have to try harder than that. He guesses Blaine must have told her about the small part he played, telling Blaine about what Sebastian had done to her—

"You could've told me that over the phone," he says, voice calm and steady.

"Blaine wanted to see the place again before leaving."

He frowns. "Blaine?" he asks, before hearing someone enter the room behind him. He turns around, face to face with the boy he helped destroy. Yet Blaine doesn't look too distraught for someone who lost his heart to Sebastian. He knows what that kind of heartbreak should look like.

"I wanted to return something," Blaine says, takes a step closer, and hands him a bound folder.

He flips it open to a random page, a photocopied page of someone's—someone's journal.

"This is—" he starts, eyes shooting up.

Rachel and Blaine are standing next to each other now, smiling at him.

They're smiling at him.

"Sebastian's journal," Blaine says, a little too triumphant.

"Well, a copy," Rachel corrects.

"He sent it to me the day before the accident."

He stares down at the page, the words The Bet in huge block lettering on top, and he doesn't have to ask what the rest of Sebastian's handwriting outlines, what the other pages say. He knew most of Sebastian's secrets but Sebastian knew his too. He'd always wanted to get his hands on this journal, but not like this, not knowing Rachel and Blaine and God-knew-who-else had read it. Had Shelby seen this?

"Everything about you is in it," Blaine continues.

No. It can't be everything.

"The guy at military school who left you heartbroken."

Tears sting behind his eyes.

"The boys you manipulated into your bed. The blowjobs. The hand jobs. Your affair with Cassandra."

His blood runs cold.

"And then there's the coke problem," Rachel says, skipping over to his desk, her nails ticking against the wood. She opens up the top drawer, reaches inside, popping out the false bottom.

"Don't touch that!" he sneers, feeling a tear run down his cheek.

"Everything okay in here?" he hears his father's voice behind him and he stops breathing. Rachel's hand is still positioned inside the desk drawer. If he moves his life might shatter into a million pieces.

Rachel smiles wide. "We're fine, Mr Clarington."

"A fine job you're doing with this young woman, Hunter," his father says.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, soaking up his father's praise while he still can. While he still feels slightly deserving. He opens his eyes to the sight of Rachel behind his desk, one hand undecided about his fate.

"Thanks, dad," he says, and hears his father slowly back away.

This is too much, he hadn't anticipated this—he took great joy in keeping Rachel and Blaine's relationship hidden from Sebastian, the knowledge that his brother was still in the dark was almost laughable given the trouble he was taking getting to know Blaine, but he never could have guessed that bond would come and haunt him now. Blaine and Rachel are doing this to him together.

And deep down, in a place he never pays much attention to, he thinks he probably deserved this. It was bound to come tumbling down sooner or later.

"What the fuck do you want?" he asks, breathing hard, a vicious bite to his tone he can't hold back.

Blaine shakes his head. "You're a real piece of work."

"What do you care?" he asks. "Sebastian's gone."

It's the wrong thing to say. Before he knows it Blaine has lunged forward and grabbed him by the collar.

"I'm not talking about Sebastian," Blaine says, shaking with anger.

"Blaine—" Rachel warns.

But Blaine's determined to have his say. "Did you really think you'd get away with this forever? That you'd put this all on Sebastian? You don't get to walk away from this. One wrong move and this journal goes public."

He smirks. If Blaine's already losing his temper there's little that can convince him this whole charade he's playing with Rachel isn't part of some elaborate bluff. Neither of them is like him or Sebastian.

He brushes off Blaine's hands.

"Do you really think you have that in you?" he asks. "Or did Sebastian teach you that too?"

Blaine's jaw clenches, but he composes himself. It's almost admirable if it wasn't some pithy way to regain control.

Then Blaine plays his final card.

"I don't need to have it in me," he says, his voice calm, composed, like the anger outburst was orchestrated as well. He knows better, that was Blaine breaking character, but for him to be this calm now he must have some ground to stand on. "You didn't hurt me, Hunter. Despite everything I actually found something real."

That's right. The boy is in love.

"But there's someone you pissed off a whole lot more and she's a lot less forgiving than I am."

Rachel's hand snakes up his back, coming to rest between his shoulder blades.

"We're going to be really good friends this school year, Hunter," she says.

His limbs grow heavy. If this journal goes public he's done, all his lies and secrets exposed, his relationship with Karofsky, his games with Sebastian, the affair with Cassandra, what he did to Rachel.

His sexuality.

His coke habit.

His reputation will be destroyed.

He won't let this happen, he can't go back to military school or lose his father's trust, can't lose his money. But he can't call Blaine's bluff, he can't threaten his reputation in turn because the silly boy's in love and he knows what love does to a person—Blaine doesn't care if his relationship with Sebastian is exposed.

"You're going to do everything I tell you to do," Rachel says. "You'll mentor the unpopular and insecure, male and female, make them feel like they're worth something, built them up without even entertaining the notion of tearing them down."

No, Blaine's not the one who needs it in him. Rachel already does.

"And do you know why you're going to do it?" Rachel asks, moving to stand in front of him.

She raises herself on her toes, looks at him through her eyelashes, hands on his face.

"Because your ass is mine."

He swallows hard, a cold shiver running down his spine. They could do so much worse, they could destroy him completely and be done with him. Is this mercy? Yet the thought of acquiescing every one of Rachel's requests leaves him nauseated, heart beating fast, stress clawing him apart.

Rachel bounces back on her heels, smiling prettily, as if she hadn't just dismantled his whole life.

She winks at him, "We'll be in touch," and follows Blaine out the door seconds later.

The moment the room goes quiet his knees start shaking, legs unsteady, as if someone pulled away the ground he stood on—Rachel and Blaine outwitted him, Sebastian blindsided him with this move. Never in a million years did he think his brother would give away that journal, love or not, heartbreak or not. This is one move he never saw coming.

He leans back against his desk and tries to breathe. Where did everything go so wrong? He worked hard to get where he is, no one can deny that, and yes, he played his games and manipulated people when he needed something from them. Who gets anywhere these days by playing fair?

Someone clears his throat. He looks up to find Blaine returned.

"Forgot something," Blaine says, walks over to him, and snatches Sebastian's car keys from his hand.

He doesn't say anything. He can't speak.

He's nailed to the ground by all his secrets.

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His heart just about leapt out of his chest when he saw Rachel reach for Hunter's face. He had no idea Rachel had this side to her, but he does know she's skilled enough to fake her way through a scene like that.

She's waiting for him at the end of the hallway after he returns with Sebastian's keys; there's no way Hunter was keeping the car. Not only did he now know it was a gift from Sebastian's father, Sebastian had won their bet, albeit not exactly how Hunter had intended. But a deal's a deal; Sebastian didn't have to give up his car.

He locks hands with Rachel as they make their way downstairs, opting for the stairs instead of the elevator. The doorman winks at them, even though he has no idea why, but he gets the sense that opening the door for Sebastian was always far more pleasant than serving to Hunter's every whim.

This was his first time meeting Hunter, but he saw Sebastian's words come to life in front of him; the games and manipulation, the cold exterior that was meant to hide insecurity. Hunter may have gotten hurt once, but that was no reason to act the way he did.

Rachel walks over to her car and pops the trunk; she swings his overnight bag over her shoulder while he helps himself to his suitcase. He walks it over to Sebastian's car, parked conveniently in front of Rachel's.

"Are you going to be okay?" Rachel asks, not once taking her eyes off him.

She's been extra vigilant these past two weeks, making sure she was always a phone call away; they had lunch or coffee together every day without fail, her care more touching than suffocating. He had to make concessions too, make an effort so that their bond didn't unravel. He refused to lose track of Rachel's life again.

"Are you kidding?" he asks. "I've been dying to drive this car."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "You're an idiot."

He smiles, unable to disagree with her assessment. He was an idiot on so many levels, but none so great as thinking he should keep things in his life a secret from the people he held dearest. They could both have avoided a lot of heartbreak if they'd talked to each other. Then again, he's not sure he'd do it any different if he got to do it again.

"I'm happy." He sighs. "Excited. Terrified."

He's not sure what he's feeling.

Rachel hands him his overnight bag. "Tell him I said hi."

"Do you really think he'll—"

Rachel leans forward, standing close. "Yes," she stops him talking, taking hold of both his hands.

"It's been two weeks." He shrugs. "I don't even know what I'm going to say."

Maybe terror is the most prominent feeling right now. When he'd seen Sebastian getting hit by that car nothing mattered anymore, not his past, not his journal, all there was were Sebastian's kisses and his arms around him, his soft caresses down his skin and the loving nonsense whispered in the dark of the night, their conversations, and the flirting, even the innuendo.

He didn't want to lose that.

He wanted that all over again.

No, he realizes, he'd do it all over just the same.

He'd wanted to tell Sebastian right away, go see him at the hospital, but his parents wouldn't let him—apparently Sebastian slept through most his days and he had a long recovery ahead of him, but then he was shipped off to the Hamptons, well out of reach. It'd taken this long to convince Shelby that he was going after Sebastian, whether she liked it or not he was in love, and whether Sebastian would let him in again or not he was going down there to talk to him.

"Silly," Rachel says. "Tell him how you feel. Talk about everything you need to talk about. See where it goes."

"He didn't deserve this." He shakes his head. "What Hunter did—"

Anger spikes through his veins again thinking about Hunter manipulating Sebastian, while Sebastian was under the impression that his own brother would never do that to him. Hunter was Sebastian's weakness, he'd trusted him too blindly. And the thought that Hunter would hardly pay for what he did—

"I thought we agreed he was my problem now," Rachel says.

He looks at his sister, a hint of worry touching his heart. Rachel can handle herself; she has Jesse helping her out and if it ever gets to be too much she'll tell Shelby everything—and Shelby would eviscerate Hunter. She might pry and be a little overprotective, but when it came down to it Shelby's not beyond admitting her own mistakes.

"Be careful."

Rachel smiles wide and cocks an eyebrow. "Have fun."

"Come here," he says, pulling Rachel into his arms, holding her in a tight hug. "I love you, sis."

Rachel kisses his cheek. "Love you too."

.

Everything still ached with every breath he drew. He'd broken his left leg, but the doctor told him the clean break was a blessing; he'd broken a few ribs and bruised all the others; he'd suffered a mild concussion and bruised his hip where he'd hit the car's windshield, but he was lucky the car didn't hit him at full speed.

His body was taking its time to heal, but he'd accepted that. His heart remained a different matter. He hadn't heard from Blaine in two weeks and it would've put him in a tailspin of more hurt if not for Quinn's visit in the hospital. She'd told him Blaine had come to see him in the hospital the day after the accident, and he'd tried to see him several times during the few days he'd spent sleeping, but his parents had stopped Blaine from seeing him.

Hunter's doing, more than likely.

The thought that Blaine had cared enough to check up on him gets him through most of his days.

As soon as he was discharged from the hospital his mom drove him to the Hamptons, where he stayed with his grandparents on his father's side, who for some reason were still on speaking terms with his mother. A doctor stopped by every now and then to check on his progress, but save for the doctor and his mandatory presence at the dinner table, his grandparents allowed him a generous amount of freedom. Not that he ever went far.

Most of his time was either spent sleeping or reading in his bedroom or by the side of the pool. But his mind came around to Blaine too often for him to move on. He had Jesse's punches coming, his hatred even, but he couldn't stand the thought of Blaine feeling the same way about him. Blaine had refused his offer to spend the summer with him, but did that mean he hated him?

Two weeks had crept by achingly slow, and the rest of his summer didn't look much brighter; he's grateful for the books Santana and Quinn send him, but this isn't his idea of the ideal summer. He's just starting the first chapter in some series called Game of Thrones when there's a subtle knock on his bedroom door.

"Sebastian dear," his grandmother's voice reaches through the door. "There's a young man here to see you."

He puts his book down on his chest and stares at his door, hates how his heart jumps in his chest.

It can't be Blaine.

"Sebastian?"

"If it's Hunter tell him to fuck off!" he calls, followed by his grandmother's distinct sigh.

"I'm letting him in, I hope you're decent."

His heart stutters again. If it's not Hunter then who? He doesn't have a great many friends who would visit him in the Hamptons. The doorknob turns; he licks his lips and waits for his guest to enter, the anticipation killing him. What if it's Blaine? What will he do? What will he say? What can he possibly say to get Blaine to stay?

Seconds later Blaine peeks his head inside, purple V-neck and khaki shorts, shoulder bag strapped across his chest, a giddy smile lighting up his eyes.

It knocks the breath straight out of him.

"Blaine."

He sits up in the bed, cringing when his ribs painfully disagree with the sudden movement.

"Fuck," he whispers, suddenly wishing he'd taken his grandmother's advice and put on a shirt, so Blaine could be spared the sight of his bruised chest.

"Oh my God, Sebastian," Blaine says, pulls his bag over his head and leaves it on the ground, rushing over to him. Blaine stops and reaches out a hand, but stops mid-air.

"It's not as bad as it looks," he says, hoping he doesn't sound too disappointed. He's glad Blaine took time to come see him, whatever the reason. He swings his legs over the bed and sits up. "Doctor said I'd be fine."

Blaine stands awkwardly in front of him for a few moments, but he ends up taking a step closer. He can't bring himself to meet Blaine's eyes, too afraid of what he'll see. He's scared Blaine will only feel pity for him, and that he's here only to make sure he's okay.

But Blaine surprises him when he reaches out again and touches him this time, tracing his fingers featherlight over his collarbone.

"I'm sorry for my part in all this," Blaine says softly.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. "God, Blaine, you—"

No. Blaine had no part in all this, not in his decision to prey on both him or Rachel, or in the accident. All Blaine did was see more in him than he ever deserved.

"None of this was your fault. I messed up so bad."

"Rachel told me everything," Blaine says, and it breaks his heart. Blaine shouldn't have to know what kind of people he and Hunter are. "About what Hunter did. How she came to you. And I read your journal."

"Then you know I'm the one who needs to apologize. If I'd known what I found when we met I never would've—"

His chest hurts as his breathing deepens, tears stinging behind his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Blaine."

"I forgive you."

His head snaps up and he finds Blaine's eyes, Blaine's hands on his face before he's processed everything. He's forgiven?

Blaine's fingers curl around his neck. "Your past—it doesn't matter," Blaine says, but he takes note of the hint of hesitation in his voice. Of course his past matters, it's who he is, it's what accompanies him wherever he goes, it's right there in the room with them. But does it stand between them?

"Yes, it does, Blaine," he says, words falling in line with his thoughts. Maybe it's best he lets it all out now. There's no point in lying or manipulating. Not anymore. "The only question is can you live with it."

There. It's out. The most important question.

"Yes," Blaine answers almost immediately, and in Blaine's eyes there's no doubt, not a single note of hesitation. Nothing holding them back.

Can this be happening? Part of him fears he's caught in some feverish dream, high on painkillers, that Blaine's not really here with him, touching him, telling him things only his dreams had granted him.

"I mean, there's some things I think we need to talk about, but—" Blaine takes a deep breath. "You're not the villain of this story, Sebastian."

He's still none too sure about that.

"I got to know the most important part of you first," Blaine says.

Is that better, he wonders, is it a blessing that Blaine saw his softer side before learning the truth about his past? Usually, in those sappy love stories on television, it's the other way around. Then again, it took time for both of them to open up, to accept that there was more to each of them than met the eye. He doesn't know, it's all been so confusing.

"I know you," Blaine adds, one of his hands reaching up into his hair. "I love you."

He looks up slowly, breathes, wondering what Blaine considers worth loving about him. But he feels the same. His ribs hurt and his chest aches with something else, love, he realizes, and he'll say it, he'll admit to it. What else is there left to say? He straightens up, meeting Blaine at eye level. He reaches his arms around Blaine's waist, pulls him closer, Blaine settling between his legs. He wants to see Blaine's reaction up close when he admits it.

"I love you too," he says and the words seem too small, too common to express the way he feels about Blaine.

Blaine smiles and sighs contently, bringing their foreheads together, reaching both hands into his hair. He doesn't think he'll ever tire of Blaine's fingers carding through his hair.

"I brought your car," Blaine says.

"My car?" he asks, frowns—he couldn't drive his car with a broken leg, and under Hunter's influence his stepfather had decided it was best to keep the car in the city. How had Blaine gotten hold of it? Had he gone to see Hunter?

"Well, you did win the bet." Blaine shrugs, voice betraying a hint of humor. "Only fair you get to keep it." He pulls back, crunches his nose. "And that I get to drive it too."

He chuckles, "I'm impressed", fingers sneaking under Blaine's shirt, drawing circles at the small of his back. He'll never take this for granted again, this level of intimacy between them, the trust Blaine puts in him. He's done terrible things, maybe things Blaine shouldn't forgive him for, but he won't go back, he'll never go back. He'll never be that person again.

"Well," Blaine says, "I'm in love", his fingers tracing down his neck and he melts against him, leaning in, pressing a long hard kiss to his lips. It's been a long time but it feels so right, the warmth of Blaine's body in his arms, the touch of his lips—

"Blaine," he mutters, even though he wants nothing more than sink back on the bed with Blaine on top of him.

"What?"

"I'm still a little fragile," he croaks, not too proud to admit that pretty much every movement hurts.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry," Blaine breathes and pulls back, putting entirely too much distance between them.

"It's okay," he says, urging Blaine closer again. His arms circle around Blaine's waist, Blaine's hands settling on his face. "Just be gentle with me for a while."

Blaine chuckles, lips pushing against his, kiss after kiss after kiss. He has trouble breathing, his ribs make it hard for him to decide exactly how much his lungs will take without anything hurting, but he doesn't stop Blaine, doesn't want to push him away now that he finally has him this close again.

"Say it again," Blaine whispers.

He smiles.

"I love you," he says, presses a kiss to Blaine's lips. "I love you."

Blaine reaches his arms around his neck, parting his lips for him, sinking down for a deep kiss, tongue caressing his, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

"Blaine," he croaks.

Blaine tenses against him and pulls away. "Sorry," he says flustered, shaking his head. "I'll—be gentle."

He grins, endeared by Blaine's schoolboy innocence, even though he's seen that change in a flash. He likes that he knows that about Blaine.

Blaine sits down next to him on the bed, takes hold of his hand, playing with his fingers.

"How long does it take for rib fractures to heal?"

He groans and lies back, his chest expanding painfully, but it's easier to breathe.

"That long, huh?" Blaine asks, settling down next to him, head propped up on his elbow, the fingers on his other hand tracing patterns on his skin.

The doctor told him it'll be at least another two weeks before most of the pain is gone, and he shouldn't exert himself in any way. But the thought of having Blaine here now without getting to touch him exactly how he wants to— God, that's just cruel.

His lips, however, had already healed, so they could probably improvise.

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They do end up talking a lot. In fact, in years to come, both of them will refer to this summer as The Summer They Talked, mostly as some kind of inside joke, a way to avoid talking about the precise circumstances of how they met when people ask them about it. They'll usually omit the details, only say they were both staying at Emma's house and a spark ignited that couldn't be ignored.

Sebastian's grandparents get the hint pretty fast and give them their space, the house in the Hamptons big enough for them to have their privacy, to sneak around without anyone noticing that neither Blaine nor Sebastian ever spent the night sleeping alone.

Their first few weeks are spent in bed or by the pool, Sebastian still recovering from his injuries. They talk about everything that needs to be said: Blaine's life before Shelby, with his mom and dad in Ohio; Sebastian's past before the journal, how and why his parents split up, the kind of impact that had on him. They talk about feelings they hadn't previously admitted to, fears and insecurities, but desires as well.

Despite the talking, there's a lot of kissing. Most mornings Sebastian insists they sleep in or have breakfast in bed, which quickly leads to some very interesting uses of certain breakfast foods (specifically strawberries—whipped cream is for the evenings). The first time Sebastian licks at the line of whipped cream running down his chest and his lips wrap around his cock without warning, Blaine yelps so loud that he wakes up Sebastian's grandparents.

Blaine still hasn't decided what college to attend; he can't make up his mind. He doesn't want to base his choice on what his boyfriend has decided, so Yale's still on the table, along with all the other colleges he got into. The future's still confusing and his father still expects things from him, but for now it's summer time and he's in love and he can't dwell on anything someone else wants from him. Unless that someone's Sebastian and that anything involves their bodies.

Sebastian's ribs heal and they soon expand their repertoire. Roaming hands become groping hands become hand jobs in the shower; their first time (again) happens quite unplanned one night when they have the house to themselves, on Blaine's bed after an intense make-out session and suddenly Blaine's hand is inside Sebastian's pants, jerking him off slowly—Sebastian pulls back and bucks in his hand and he's breathing easy for the first time in weeks and there are no more words, only the occasional moan and cry, Sebastian's name whispered over and over again as Sebastian pushes into him.

After Sebastian has his cast removed, close to the end of the summer, they get a little more adventurous. Sebastian takes Blaine skinny-dipping in the middle of the night, and has the nerve to be surprised when Blaine wraps his legs around him and drags him underwater. They find secluded spots to picnic (or fool around) outside, interspersed with long talks about the future.

They go out clubbing once, and Blaine blows Sebastian in a bathroom stall, smiling around him because the noises Sebastian makes are so delicious and the thought that he's the one causing it makes him giddy.

By the end of the summer they decide they need to get away longer and much further. They want to avoid the toll the scrutiny at school will take on their budding relationship, and Blaine wants to keep Sebastian away from his dad's and Shelby's criticism. When Blaine tells them that he's going to spend a year in Paris, with Sebastian, his father reluctantly agrees and Shelby's eyes just about pop out of their sockets.

"They said yes?" Sebastian asks when he calls him later.

"Shelby said 'hell no, no son of mine—'"

"You're still an idiot, you know that, right?" Sebastian interrupts.

"Careful," Blaine warns. "You're dating this idiot now."

"I love you."

It's the first time Sebastian's the first to say it.

It won't be the last.

"Love you too."

Exactly one year from now they'll be lounged on the couch together, Blaine lying back on Sebastian's chest, a tangle of arms and legs and the occasional kiss. Rachel will be seated on the floor staring longingly at her collection of playbills and complaining about how much she misses Jesse, even though he's only gone for a week while he visits his parents. Jesse's absence is the only reason Sebastian enters the apartment.

Shelby will roll her eyes and block out their voices, but she'll secretly agree that Sebastian and Blaine look good together, and Rachel's adorable when she pouts over her boyfriend. People say that it's her marriage to Thomas Anderson and her pregnancy that thawed her out, but Blaine and Rachel know better—Shelby was always this, a little overbearing perhaps, but she's a great mom.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have killer legs?" Sebastian whispers into Blaine's ear, still mesmerized by Blaine's body and his penchant for squeezing himself in those tight-fitting chinos of his.

Blaine pulls a leg closer, their bare feet touching. "Shut up," he says, holding the laptop in his lap in balance with a hand.

"Make me," Sebastian teases, a hand curling around Blaine's hip, the other reaching down to cup his ass.

Blaine giggles.

"Boys," Rachel croaks. "Get a room."

"We're trying," Sebastian says, and starts nibbling at his ear.

"Stop it," he breathes, not sounding all that convincing, but he pulls back. He scrolls down the webpage and stops when he sees an interesting ad. "What about this one?"

Sebastian points at the address. "Too far."

Blaine sighs and scrolls to the next ad, relaxing into Sebastian's body when he feels him press a kiss to his hair.

They rifle through a dozen more ads before finding it: a big New Haven apartment at an acceptable distance from campus, two bedrooms (in case Rachel decided to visit), a bathroom with walk-in shower, a separate toilet and a large kitchen, and – most importantly – underground parking, because Sebastian refused to leave the Jaguar out on the street, and Blaine agreed there was no way he was giving up the car.

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THE END

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extended author's notes: THE END. This has been one of the most rewarding stories I have ever written, the Seblaine fandom is such a lovely corner with so many amazing people. So many have become friends, others have started following me (on tumblr) and I can't thank you enough for that.

Special thanks go to xsaturated, who I do believe is partially responsible for this fic even happening in the first place, because I was talking at her about 'hypothetical' casting choices and then it sort of unravelled from there. Thanks to tanisafan, my cheerleader who read all the chapters with unadulterated enthusiasm. And SUPER THANKS to My Bright Knight Inwenalas for her beta-reading skills and putting up with my insane tempo.

Thanks to blainedarling for her beautiful graphic to accompany the story, sophisticatedloserchick for every single one of her reblogs on tumblr, Dandalion for her CAPS ATTACK REVIEWS right here, all the messages, anon or otherwise.