disclaimer: without prejudice. the names of all characters contained here-in are the property of FOX and Ryan Murphy. no infringments of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.

warnings: explicit sex, explicit language, drug use

author's notes: inspired by a gifset by mirallegri, kind of a continuation of what i like to imagine follows. title taken from Get Some by Lykke Li.


Go Ahead, Go Way Low


"You're such an asshole," Blaine huffs, shirt falling unceremoniously to the floor of his apartment along with Sebastian's previously pristine dinner jacket. He gets pushed back against the door by a body he wants to explore with the tip of his tongue and his fingertips, his boyfriend licking a long wet line up his neck before his lips latch on to the pulse point behind his ear.

He moans and sucks his bottom lip a swollen red for Sebastian to enjoy later, the eager lips against his skin a satisfaction he's been waiting for all night, the hot palms loathe with frustration over the layer of fabric in their path, the hips stuttering against his crotch begging for friction.

Sebastian pulls back with a playful glint in his green eyes, darkening as they catch on his bruised lips. "I didn't hear you complain."

He pushes Sebastian back.

"And then you can drink it with me," he mocks untempered as he strips off his shirt and tosses his necklace to the ground, recalling Sebastian's smug grin challenging him earlier tonight, all his trust fund buddies flocking around him like he was the second coming. "Made me feel like a fucking stripper."

Sebastian grins, "Ladies and gentlemen," –he starts unbuttoning his shirt, padding backward towards the couch, and kicks off his shoes– "Please welcome to the stage..."

"You're a dick," he says, eyes tracing unguarded down Sebastian's now naked chest, lean with immaculate skin and beauty spots he once named one by one because he was high as a kite. He can't believe he's dating this asshole, this fresh-faced spoiled brat who walked into his bar four months ago with an ego that could fill an opera house.

Sebastian settles against the back of the couch, hooking a finger in two of his belt loops when he's within reach, pulling him flush against him. "You asked me what I wanted to drink," he says, pressing kisses to his jaw before he starts nipping at his lips.

"Because that's my job." His hands roam down Sebastian's chest, thumbs circling around his nipples while Sebastian chases his lips. "You're the one who wants to keep this from your friends."

"This?" Sebastian asks, fingers tightening in his hair. "What's this then?"

He cracks a smile, avoiding an answer to a question neither of them tries to take too seriously. They call each other boyfriends but he hasn't met Sebastian's friends, not after the surprise face-to-face with Sebastian's father one Sunday morning. Sebastian had failed to mention that as the owner of his loft his father had a spare key. To say that Smythe Senior had a temperate reaction to meeting his son's boyfriend, half-naked, hung over and a joint dangling from his lips, would be the understatement of the century.

His fingertips chart down Sebastian abdomen before they find his belt, tugging the leather out of the clasp.

"This is you getting sucked off by a lowlife barkeep with no future."

He licks at Sebastian's lips and sinks into their first kiss that night since Sebastian attacked his mouth in the alley behind the club, tongue spooning into his boyfriend's mouth as he pops the button on Sebastian's pants, carefully pulling the zipper down.

Sebastian gasps at the feel of a hand around his cock, "I never called you that."

Smythe Senior hadn't held back in his opinion on him once he found out he was a twenty-something college drop-out trying to get by on a bartender wage while dabbling in music–Sebastian stood by him, defended his choices and argued that his personal life was none of his father's business. Apparently it was a conversation they'd had before, and Sebastian wouldn't let up, so he's the one who walked away, reluctant to become a point of contention between Sebastian and his family.

He goes down to his knees, yanking Sebastian's pants and boxers down his legs, helping him step out of them before he locks eyes with him again. "You're so lucky you're pretty," he hushes, and licks a line from the base of Sebastian's cock all the way to the tip, teasing the slit with the tip of his tongue.

"Fuck," Sebastian breathes, fingers digging into the leather of the couch. "You know–" –Sebastian closes his eyes when his lips form a ring around the head of his cock, and he starts bobbing his head shallowly– "You know I don't see you that way," Sebastian rushes out, head tilting back.

He takes Sebastian a little deeper, his cock pulsing on his tongue, getting harder by the second.

"Fuck, babe," Sebastian croaks. "You know I– ah," he whimpers, "–support you."

His heart stutters and he pulls back, pushing a kiss to Sebastian's groin. "I do, baby," he nuzzles at Sebastian's hip. "I do."

Sebastian had showed up on his doorstep only a few hours after the argument with his father, shuffling and staring down at his feet like a little boy, somehow convincing him that even if he brought home the President's son, no one would ever be good enough for him in his father's eyes. So they'd agreed to keep whatever-they-were-doing under wraps.

He stands up again, mouthing at Sebastian's neck, finally getting rid of his white dress shirt. "I don't want you to come to the bar anymore," he whispers, his teeth worrying Sebastian's skin.

"Liar," Sebastian whispers back.

He chuckles, fingers curling into Sebastian's hair as he pulls him into another kiss, and thinks, yes, he is a liar, he gets such a kick out of eye-fucking Sebastian across the dimmed room and leaving his friends clueless. He'll go over and flirt with one of Sebastian's friends to get him jealous, or let Sebastian watch other patrons flirt with him. And all the while both of them will know that once his shift's over Sebastian will find his way back to him, they'll go home together and strip each other bare, come with the other's name on their lips and lie entangled in each other's limbs while their bodies cool down–they'll doze in and out of restless slumber or share lazy kisses, or talk about their hopes and dreams until the sun comes up.

Sebastian can be a dick, and an asshole, and whatever other colorful term anyone had ever used to describe him, but he loved this boy who had eased his way into his life, he liked their little secret and how it remained untouched by the outside world.

When they left the bar earlier he honestly thought he'd be the one fucking Sebastian tonight, his goddamn big mouth had pissed him off and he wanted to take Sebastian down a notch, just for fun, edge him towards his orgasm until he had him begging, or apologizing, maybe even both. But now that he has Sebastian naked in front of him, his cock flailing rock hard against his abdomen, all he wants is for Sebastian to fill him up, make him scream his release and his come coating the inside of his ass.

"I want you to fuck me," he begs, but there's no hesitation on Sebastian's part–he tracks them towards the bedroom, their lips only parting for hushed breaths and making sure they don't trip over anything.

He lies down on the bed and waits for Sebastian to grab the lube, stroking himself through his pants, which really need to start coming off soon. Watching Sebastian is one of his favorite things in the world though, he's so effortless in everything he does and feels comfortable in his own skin, completely shameless, and even in that there's dickishness he's learned to appreciate.

"Like what you see, lover?" Sebastian asks, crawling over to him on the bed.

"Oh, I'm your secret lover, now, am I?"

Sebastian's tongue licks into this belly button, an itch tracing down his spine. "You prefer something else?" He grins wickedly. "My beau? My flame?"

He buries his fingers in Sebastian's hair. "Your doxy," he whispers dramatically.

Sebastian giggles, one of the most gratifying sounds he'll ever draw from anyone, and next thing Sebastian settles between his legs, kissing him deep–he wraps his legs high around Sebastian's waist, his pants decidedly not working in his favor, but he cherishes the solid warmth of Sebastian's body, skin to skin, and it feels like high voltage live wires coursing through his nerve endings.

"God, I want you like this," he whimpers, his arms wrapped tight around Sebastian, the closeness overwhelming. "Baby, please, just like this."

Sebastian pries himself loose to make quick work of his belt, peeling off his pants and boxers in one smooth move before he's back in his arms, right back where he belongs. It's strange how he's started wanting more than the secret–he has no need to be approved by Sebastian's father or even his friends, but he'd like people to know, he wants to be able to look over at Quinn behind the bar and wink at her, smiling, That's my man.

"Help me out, killer?" Sebastian asks, motioning towards the lube by his head. He grabs the bottle and squirts a generous amount of lube into Sebastian waiting hand. Soon Sebastian's fingers trace between his legs and his fingertips find his hole, circling around it a few times.

"Stop fucking around," –he digs a heel in Sebastian's ass– "Want you inside me."

Sebastian works a finger inside slowly, one knuckle at a time, easing in and out. "You're so bossy tonight." His finger curls inside his ass and brushes against his prostate, coaxing a shudder from his body he suspects Sebastian fully intended. "So beautiful like this, baby," Sebastian coos, adding a second finger, working his ass open at a pace entirely his own. "All mine for the taking."

"All yours," he breathes, clenching once around Sebastian's fingers before they're gone. He whines, breath caught in his throat once he feels Sebastian's cock stroke over his hole, pushing inside at a pace he can take. "All yours," he repeats and closes his eyes, fingers digging into Sebastian's back while he finds his pace, his hips lifting off the bed with every single one of Sebastian's thrusts.

"That's it, baby," Sebastian groans, burying his face in the crook of his neck, a hand reaching down for his ass, the room soon filling with the sounds of their labored breathing and the slap of their skins. "I've got you," Sebastian hushes, drowning in the rhythm of their bodies moving together. "I've got you."

He comes before he can warn Sebastian, the build-up so fast and sudden he spills all over his chest in the space between them and screams his release, cock still throbbing because Sebastian's body keeps offering friction, almost too much for him to take.

Sebastian sighs his name into his skin every time he angles his hips, his teeth sinking into his shoulder when he suddenly tenses above him, groans, spilling inside his ass with a few more shallow thrusts–he licks over the bite mark but it stings all the same, dragging his teeth all over his throat.

"St–Stop," he stutters, too sensitive to the pressure of Sebastian's body, and Sebastian rolls off without question. He bunches up the sheets and wipes down his chest, too spent to bother with anything else, body relaxing down into the mattress, sweat cooling on his skin.

He sneaks a glance to his left and catches Sebastian's eyes, both of them snorting with laughter.

Sometimes it's hard for him to believe this is the same boy he met four months ago. As far as first impressions went he jumped to conclusions–he assumed that Sebastian's exterior would match his heart's desires, that there was little substance to the boy who tossed around money like it had no real value, but he was proven wrong.

Their first time together was a spontaneous hook-up, a one-night-stand he figured couldn't disappoint if it happened only once, and they were both drunk enough to have fun even if the experience proved less than stellar. But there was something about Sebastian, about the way their bodies slotted and moved together, how he was unafraid to give up control when he wanted some or take control when he was ready to relinquish it.

They both returned for seconds, and thirds, and somewhere along the way they figured they might as well get to know each other better, in case they'd found something real. They knew now, both in their own ways, how much they meant to each other.

He sits up with some difficulty and reaches for his pants, extracting a joint and a lighter from one of the back pockets.

"I'm sorry for being an asshole," comes Sebastian's voice a few moments later, fingertips skimming down his spine, a kiss planted on his shoulder. "Next time I won't sit in your section."

He laughs and brings the lighter up to the joint, taking a few short draws to get it lit. "Like hell you will," he says, depositing the lighter on the nightstand, and lies back down. "I'm not gonna lose my biggest tippers."

Sebastian kisses his stomach, slowly making his way up his chest, his lips puckering around one of his nipples, tongue teasing, and he arches slightly off the bed. "Not completely useless yet, then."

"Hmm," he hums in reply, because Sebastian's lips find his again before he can inform his boyfriend he quite likes feeling his eyes on his ass every time he leaves their table. Sebastian kisses him slow and lazy, rhythmless while his body settles pliant against his.

"Give me some of that."

He brings the joint up to Sebastian's lips and watches him draw some smoke into his mouth, inhaling some of it first before taking another drag. His lips part when he sees Sebastian pull closer again, and he opens his mouth wider–Sebastian expels the smoke into his mouth and he breathes in deep, feeling it fill up his lungs with a slight lingering burn.

Sebastian's tongue soon follows, his head and body swimming as he wraps a leg around Sebastian's waist. "I kinda love you, Blaine Anderson," Sebastian confesses to the corner of his mouth and smiles when he finds his eyes, big and goofy, his pupils blown.

He presses a kiss to Sebastian's nose. "I knew I was keeping you around for a reason."


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