A/N: In the ideal s4 Blaine transferred to Dalton after DD.

It was nearly midnight, the hallways quiet. They were two days in their exam week and Sebastian was ready to just reach the end. The workload of a senior student in Dalton was intense. He was preparing for his afternoon exam tomorrow in Anthropology in the library and lost track of time. He was heading back to his dorm room, it was past curfew and he was exhausted.

The soft light spilling out from the Senior Common's to the hallway drew Sebastian's attention. He slowly widened the door crack, curious to who would still be here at this hour. He listened intently for any sounds, he didn't want to be a cockblock, if this is how they dealt with stress then far from him to judge them. He waited, listening, but all he heard was a soft meow and light snoring.

Sebastian sighed, being nice does suck. He could be on his way to bed by now but the 'nice' thing to do would be to wake up whoever was slumming it in the couch because no one needed body pains when they had to sit through a 3-hour exam tomorrow.

He walked in, intent on waking whoever they were and heading off to his dorm. He grabbed the draped blazer on the couch and planned on just throwing it to them. He may have turned over a new leaf, but it was 12 in the morning, for crying out loud. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight that greeted him, a sleeping Blaine Anderson.

It couldn't be comfortable with the way Blaine was angled. He was sitting on the couch, mouth slightly parted, head tilted back and was resting on the top of the backrest. His tie hung loosely around his neck, shirt untucked. Sebastian could see the curls jumping out of their hold, he could easily imagine Blaine's hand running through them earlier in frustration. An anthropology book was open in his lap. It was breathtaking if anything.

Sebastian approached cautiously, not wanting to make unnecessary noise that would wake Blaine up. He stood there, watching Blaine sleep, contemplating on how best to proceed. Sebastian didn't have the heart to wake Blaine up and he knew he couldn't carry Blaine all the way to his room.

His internal debate was interrupted when he felt that someone was watching him. He was pretty sure they were alone. It wasn't someone, after taking note of his surroundings once more, it was something.

Mr. Puss was sitted on Blaine's left, eyes trained on Sebastian's every move, as if ready to pounce if he as so much made any sudden moves towards Blaine. He couldn't help but smirk at the sight, amused at the thought of how fast Blaine and Hunter's cat bonded. If he didn't know any better, he'd think the cat belongs to Blaine.

Sebastian raised both arms in surrender, hoping to convey his motives. Mr. Puss surveyed him for a moment before purring and getting off the couch to settle in front of the fireplace, eyes still locked on Sebastian.

Taking that as an approval and a sign that he wasn't going to get his face scratched off; he placed the blazer, he took earlier, down on the armrest and closed the book on Blaine's lap- taking it and the other scattered books from the couch- and placed them on the coffee table. He grabbed Blaine's blazer and folded it to be used as a pillow. He removed Blaine's shoes, then gently pushed him down on the couch.

He smiled down on Blaine's acknowledgeable more comfortable position, satisfied with his work. It wasn't as comfortable as a bed but at least he would be able to move tomorrow.

Sebastian's eyebrows furrowed when Blaine shivered. He looked around for something to cover Blaine up but came up with nothing. His grimace turned to a smile when an idea struck him. He removed his own blazer and placed it on top of Blaine. He couldn't help his smile from widening when Blaine snuggled into his blazer.

He tucked a stray curl and allowed his hand to linger on Blaine's jaw for a few moments. Sebastian would never be this close to Blaine during waking hours, so he allowed himself to stare, committing every inch to memory as if he doesn't already know it like the back of his hand ; his lashes were impossibly long, fanning across his cheeks; the light freckles scattered across his face. God, he was beautiful.

"Sweet dreams, Killer." He whispered as he pulled away.

He couldn't be sure if he imagined it or not, factoring in the lateness of the hour and his exhausted sleep deprived state, but the soft, "Sweet dreams, Seb." that followed him on his way out, left a smile on his face as he lay in bed, waiting for sleep to arrive.