Blaine's eyebrows gave a valiant attempt at merging with his hairline. His boyfriend was wearing an immaculately tailored charcoal gray 3-piece suit with a clinging ice blue silk knit top. His black designer shoes were polished to a mirror shine.

“Wow. Love the new suit. Is it Prada?” he managed, taking in the way the jacket skimmed the other man's shoulders, and hugged his waist just so.

“Armani, actually. Is the hat too much, do you think?” Sebastian brought out a charcoal fedora.

“Just a bit. Besides, I can tell you spent a long time on your hair. You don't want to mess it up.” Blaine smoothed down his lapel and twitched his collar. “What's the occasion?”

“I have reservations at Le Bernardin. You're still going to Wes' place for that thing?” Sebastian glanced at his reflection in the vanity mirror. His boyfriend's eyes widened at the mention of the famous four star French restaurant in Midtown Manhattan.

“House of the Dead tournament, yeah. I might crash over there...?” Blaine offered, taking a step back.

Sebastian shrugged, doing one last check of his hair. “If you want to. I don't know what time I'll be back,” he glanced at him with a half smirk. “Or if I'll be back at all.” Two small steps had him crowding Blaine against the wall, so he could feel the heat of his body pressing against him.

“Okay,” Blaine breathed, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation, at the welcome dizziness brought on by the smell of Sebastian's cologne, by the feel of his mouth being captured in a searing kiss. A long moment passed, in which Sebastian's tongue stroked teasingly against his own.

“I love you.” The words were whispered against his slightly reddened lips.

“I love you, too. Have fun tonight.” Blaine's tongue darted out almost nervously.

“I always do.” Sebastian winked at him, and then he was gone.

Blaine sighed, just the once, a wide smile on his face before he caught sight of the time. “Shit!” Wallet and keys went into the pockets of his loose cargo pants, and he stuffed an extra X-Box controller into his messenger bag. He shoved his feet into sneakers on the way out the door. It might only be a night of video games, pizza, and beer with the guys, but there was never a good excuse for tardiness.

When he reached his destination, Wes threw open the door and gave him a concerned once-over. His jaw clenched and he clearly hesitated before reaching out to take Blaine's elbow and ushering him inside. “Are you okay?” he managed.

“Yes? Why? Did something happen?” Alarm crossed Blaine's features, and he could feel the beginning of panic stirring. What was going on?

“Uh, no. Never mind.” Wes looked relieved, then faintly embarrassed. “I'm just being stupid.” He gave a half-hearted grin, exchanging a look with David that he did not miss. Blaine looked around the casual living room. Nick, Jeff, and Trent were there in addition to Wes and David, all of them friends he'd known since their college acappella days. They were all staring at him.

“What?” he asked again, eyes narrowing. They were keeping something from him, he just knew it.

“I'm sorry,” said Wes, scrubbing a palm across his face. “I just saw you, and I freaked out a little bit.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Blaine was starting to get grumpy. He'd come over here to relax, have some fun with his friends, not deal with whatever was going on.

“Trent, what was Blaine wearing last time we had a movie night?” David cut in, with a seeming change in subject.

“Grey slacks, a light blue and pink checked button down, pink bow tie,” Trent rattled off in a bored tone, opening a bottle of Bud Light Lime and leaning back in his seat. Unfortunately for him, he had an eidetic memory for clothing, and was used to these kinds of pop quizzes.

“And when was the last time you saw him in, in a sweatshirt and ripped cargo pants, and no gel?” Wes continued, sounding almost scandalized.

Trent's jaw dropped and he sat up abruptly. “Spring, three years ago. Patrick Milner.” The last phrase was a shocked whisper.

“Oh my God!” Nick jumped to his feet. “Do you need ice cream or chocolate or cuddles?”

“Wait! Hang on!” Blaine put up his hands, forestalling any more commentary from his well-meaning yet hopelessly mistaken friends. “Sebastian and I are doing just fine. I was running late, and threw on something comfortable. That's all. I swear. No heartbreak or drama.”

The five men gave simultaneous sighs of relief.

“The pizza's on the way. You should grab a controller,” Jeff jerked his chin in the direction of the wide screen plasma set up, with its surround sound and multiple gaming consoles. “Do you want a beer?”
“After all that? Hell, yes,” Blaine laughed. The weird tension settled, and the guys all got back to the very serious business of killing zombies. Several hundred shambling digital corpses met their final death over the next few hours. So did a case of beer and three large pies with the works.

“Man,” commented David, lining up for his next kill shot. “It seems like forever since we did this.”

“Whose fault is that, Sergeant Sand Dune?” Wes fired back. David pulled a face at him in response.

While they bickered, Nick gently nudged Blaine with his shoulder. “Are you completely sure everything is okay? Usually you're checking your phone every five minutes to see if Sebastian has called or texted. I haven't seen you go for your cell once all night.” He kept his voice quiet, and concern was written in his body language. Blaine managed a smile, and nudged him back.

“I'm not that bad,” he protested jokingly. “But I know he won't try to get a hold of me tonight, not unless something goes really wrong,” he relented.

“Why's that?” Nick cocked his head to the side curiously.

“He's on a date.” Blaine's answer was nonchalant, but he couldn't help but notice that every head in the room slowly turned towards him. “What?”

“Sebastian goes out on dates? With other guys?” choked out Wes.

“Yes. It's an open relationship,” he spoke slowly and carefully, as if his friend was a little slow himself.

“Bear with me for a moment. When I hear 'open relationship', I think it's okay to, I don't know, make out with someone at a party, maybe fool around at one of those orgies you guys are always throwing,” Wes began, the others nodding their agreement. “But he actually wines and dines and goes on actual dates? The hell is wrong with you? How can you possibly be okay with this, especially with how wrecked you were when Patrick was screwing around on you?”

Blaine looked from face to familiar face, all wearing the same look of concern and confusion. He gritted his teeth, and silently counted to ten. Twice. Then he took a deep breath, irritation making his words sharp. “First of all, Sebastian is not cheating on me. He likes to meet new people, he likes the chase, and he likes the fancy dinners. I'm sorry if you've never been in a relationship where you could trust each other completely, but this is my life, and my decision. Who 'Bastian goes out with – and who he goes home with – is none of your damn business because he's honest with me about it. I agreed to it. And I have the same freedom. I can sleep with whoever I damn please, and he's fine with it. I love him, and being with him is what makes me happy. So if you're really the good friends you're claiming to be, you'll butt out. Be happy for me, or shut the fuck up.” His eyes were blazing, first clenched at his sides.

“Whoa!” Jeff, their usual peacemaker, threw up his hands and leaned forward. “Blaine, none of use is trying to jump on your back about your private life.”

“Well, it sure seems that-” Blaine began hotly, before Jeff interrupted again.

“Hold on! Look, I'm sorry you're so upset right now. Maybe Wes could have been more tactful in expressing his concern,” he shot the other man a look, and Wes grudgingly inclined his head in agreement. “The absolute bottom line is this: Blaine, you are my friend, and I love you like a brother. I don't care if you're polygamous, Polynesian, or – God help us all- straight. We just want you to be happy, alright?”

There was a long, tense minute where Blaine intently considered his friends' expressions, and found only apology and sincerity. Then Trent gave a dramatic shudder. “I can't imagine you being straight. It makes me think of lady parts, and that is just.... ew.”

There was a strained chuckle, then David tossed a controller at Blaine. “C'mon, dawg,” he drawled with exaggerated urban diction. “Let's legit waste some motherfuckin' zombies, yo.” He pursed his lips and jutted out his chin, posing like the cover to a rap album. Nick chucked a throw pillow at his head, and they all started to laugh.

“I'm pretty sure that you're not black enough to pull that off, sweet cheeks,” Trent commented condescendingly.

“Hey!”

The following morning, Blaine woke before his alarm to the feeling of kisses being pressed against his jawline. He stretched, making a small sound of contentment, before his eyes fluttered open.

“Good morning, baby,” Sebastian whispered. “I brought you breakfast.” He held up a paper bag and a coffee cup from the fancy French bakery a few blocks away.

Blaine wiggled into a seated position. Sebastian, still dressed in last night's rumpled suit, chose a croissant and curled up next to him. “Did you have fun with your friends last night?”

Blaine hesitated, before deciding that the last thing he wanted to do on such a lovely morning was start a fight about his friends. “Yes,” he replied. “Those zombies never had a chance.”

Sebastian hummed. “Well, I wanted to talk to you about Kurt – that's the guy I've been seeing. I want you to meet him.”

He paused, letting the statement sink in, and took a drink to buy himself a moment. “This chai is amazing,” he temporized.

“Baby,” Sebastian gave him a chiding look, and took one of his hands. “We never really talked about this. I know you've known some of the guys I've dated, you've been here for some hook ups, but I want you to listen. This is different. Kurt's different. He's...” A soft smile tugged at his lips. “He's special. Amazing. And I think if you give him a chance, you'll adore him.”

Blaine studied him. He was certainly acting differently this time. Sebastian had never asked for him to meet one of his men before. His gaze flicked to the pastries, to the fancy drink in his hand. Certainly this was important enough to try to butter him up for. “I take it this is what you really want?” he asked quietly.

“Blaine, we promised we'd never try to change each other, and that we wouldn't try to put limits or chains on one another. I'd like for you to meet him, because I think it'll be great for both of you. The way I feel about him doesn't change the way I feel about you. I love you, you know that. But he's my other boyfriend now, and that relationship deserves your respect.” His tone was almost reproachful.

Blaine was taken aback. He'd never really thought this would happen. It was one thing for Sebastian to share his body, his company. He never thought that Sebastian might actually have feelings for someone other than him. He felt a tightness in his chest- hurt, with a hint of jealousy. Was he not enough? He swallowed hard, and thought about what Jeff had said to him the previous night. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against his boyfriend's cheek. “If you're happy, I'm happy,” he whispered. He would have to be.

Sebastian's smile was breathtaking. “I knew you'd understand.” He kissed him firmly one more time, then rolled off the bed. “I need a shower before work. See you tonight?”

“I'll make dinner,” Blaine smiled back. Everything was going to be just fine.