The walk to the library and the coffee date waiting was pleasant, the sun warm on Blaine's fabric-covered back.  He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts (the normal homeworkdobetterdoyourbestdonotdisappointusstudyreadrunrepeat now included auditionpracticebebestdonotletanyonedownforlettingyouhavethischance, but Blaine couldn't be happier that worrying about that was an option in his life again) that he didn't notice a tall, slim boy slipping into step next to him. 

"You're going to get hit by a bike one day if you don't start paying more attention to your surroundings."

It was only when the boy's tenor, light and teasing spoke next to him that he snapped out of his thoughts.

"SEB!"  He lunged at the boy, before catching himself.  Blaine knew could be overly touchy if he didn't check himself. 

"Oh, stop that.  You can hug me."

Blaine flushed slightly and gave him a more appropriate-for-friends hug around the shoulders as they continued walking towards the library.

"You idiot."  Sebastian stopped, drawing a "fuck you" from the cyclist they had just cut off.  He tugged Blaine's elbow and pulled him in for a full-body hug.

"How was the end of your summer?"  Blaine flicked his eyes along Sebastian's lithe form, dark jeans hugging slim thighs and hips, steel-blue Henley pushed up to his elbows and the first few buttons of the collar undone, revealing a slip of a white undershirt that made his already tan skin seem even darker. 

"Good.  Relaxed by the pool, mainly.  How about you?"

"Same."

"Blaine..."

"No.  Really, Seb.  It was fine.  My parents left me alone, mainly.  I kept to myself and my job.  And work was boring."

"I doubt that."

"Seb, I worked in a small bookstore.  A busy day was five customers."

"You worked in a small used bookstore known for dealing in first-editions.  Most people wouldn't dream about going in."

"It was still boring.  At least I got out of the house."

"It was only boring because you couldn't molest the pretty books."

"That sounds about right."

Blaine felt Seb looking at him as they walked into the library, he tilted his head to the side in question.  "What?"

"Nothing."  Seb held the door for him, following him around the turns of the section indicated for forming a line.  It was in the middle of a class, so there wasn't a line for the register or the pickup counter. 

"What'll you have?"

"Grande drip.  That's it."  Blaine cut off Seb's protest-"We're here at the same time.  We'll go back to normal next time.  Deal?"

"Whatever makes you happy."

Blaine stepped to the side, allowing Seb to order and taking his coffee from the barista before moving over to the milk and sugar counter.  He fixed his coffee and took up residence in his normal seat at their normal table, trusting that Seb could find him.

The café area of the library was essentially empty, but from their table they could look into the other half of the entrance room/foyer of the library, where more tables were set up. 

Seb scanned the other half of the entrance hall and Blaine took the opportunity to gaze at his friend's profile.  Seb took a sip, adam's apple bobbing under the covering of day old scruff and tanned skin.  Blaine wasn't expecting Seb's face to twist into a sneer.

"Fucking disgusting."

"What?  Is something wrong with your coffee?  I'm sure they'd remake it."

Seb turned in his seat towards Blaine, setting his coffee down and covering Blaine's hand, which had come to rest on the table, with his free one.

"No.  Her.  She's cheating on her boyfriend.  If you're in a monogamous relationship, you should damn well act like it."

Blaine just stared.

"Close your mouth, Blaine, or someone's going to get ideas."

Blaine snapped his mouth shut.  "It's just...surprising."

"Really?"

Blaine's gaze could have bored a hold in his cup, the hand that wasn't under Seb's moving to rub against the paper sleeve.  "You just strike me as a 20-minute, fuck'em and leave'em guy."

"My dear Blaine, I might not do relationships often, but when I am in one, I am damn near the best boyfriend."

"Huh."  A frown creased Blaine's forehead, eyebrows drawing together.  Seb leaned back, eyebrow cocked and waiting for Blaine to puzzle it out.  Ten seconds later, brow unfurrowed, Blaine turned to Seb.  "One day, you'll stop surprising me."

Seb finished his sip, half smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, blue eyes softer than usual.  "I'd like to have that day."

Blaine flushed, staring dumbstruck at Seb.  He thought he understood what Seb was saying.  But he wasn't good at these things.  He could be wrong of course.  And then again, he could be right.

Seb's nudge against his shoulder jarred him from his thoughts.  "So, tell me how your first day went."

-/-/-/-

"Have you decided what you're going to sing?"

Their cups of coffee sat empty and forgotten between them, the remaining dregs (cinnamon for Blaine, chocolate syrup for Seb) cooling at the bottom.

"Not yet.  I have a few ideas.  I haven't decided yet.  I have a little bit of time."

"Tell me your ideas?  Before you say it, I do care.  I asked, didn't I?"

" ‘What I Know' by Parachute, ‘Go the Distance' from Prince of Egypt, or..." he ran through his music collection in his head, " ‘Iris', maybe.  But I'm not sure."

"By the Goo Goo Dolls, right?"

Blaine's face lit up a smile.  "Yeah."

"From what I've heard you sing.."

"Singing at the top of my lungs in a car or on a roof while drinking does not count."

"From what I've heard you sing," Seb continued, over Blaine's interjection, "I'd go with ‘Iris'.  It fits your voice better without having to change keys."

"And the sheet music shouldn't be too difficult to find."

"Probably online.  Guitar, piano, or a capella?"

"Piano, probably.  It doesn't seem like a guitar or a capella song."

"And you can show off your piano-playing abilities."

"I doubt I play any better than anyone else does."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that.  You can't know yet.  When do you have to have this ready by?"

"Wednesday."

"Well then, what on Earth are you doing here talking with me?  Go practice."

"I'm heading back to my apartment.  Walk with me?"  Blaine didn't know why he was asking.  That was the routine.  They met after Blaine's classes.  They would walk towards Blaine's apartment and Seb would peel off whenever he needed to. 

"Of course.  Tradition."

Blaine hummed ‘Tradition' and earned a playful smack on the arm before that hand curled around his bicep and pulled him up, toe to toe with the taller boy.  Well.  This was unexpected.  And very very close.  It would seem that Blaine had been correct in his guess about Sebastian's intentions with that comment.  Seb looked down at him, blue eyes searching Blaine's, the difference in their heights pronounced when they stood this close. 

Seb took a small step back and then bent down slowly, somehow managing to both hold Blaine's eyes and pick up both of their bags at the same time.  A smile broke out on his face when he saw Blaine swallow at the closeness and the innuendo behind the move.

Sliding his and Blaine's bags onto his shoulder, Seb spun on his heel and walked out of the café, Blaine following closely to make up for the second he had stood dumb on the spot.  Free of the library, Blaine removed his bag from Seb's shoulder, pulling it over his head so the strap crossed his chest. 

They walked in a comfortable silence, hands not quite brushing but they came close a few times. 

The pair reached the corner Seb usually headed down, towards his own apartment.  Blaine paused out of habit, the hitch in his step nearly causing him to fall over.  "You aren't going here?"

"I can if you want me to.  I have nothing to do and I thought I'd walk you home."  The teasing tone and self-confident smirk was back. 

"You don't need to."

"No, but I want to.  You look like a puppy, Blaine."

"Yes.  You've told me before.  And will doubtless tell me again."

"Doubtless."  Blaine threw the punch this time.  Seb rubbed his arm and pouted at Blaine as they walked.

"Mine is better."

"Of course it is.  We've established you were a puppy in a former life."

Blaine stuck his tongue out at Seb. 

"You're also five."

"Isn't college about unleashing your inner child?"

"No.  College is when you eat sugary cereals and stay up later because your parents aren't there to tell you otherwise."

They had made it to Blaine's apartment. 

"I'll let you practice."

"And do homework.  And look over the syllabi for tomorrow.  And copy dates into my calendar."

"And sleep."

"Sure."

"Sleep, Blaine.  It's only the first day.  No need to start this the first day."

Blaine shrugged.  Sebastian sighed. 

"I'm leaving now."  Seb opened his arms for a hug.  Blaine stepped into his arms and hugged, trying to thank the boy who had helped so much and at least partly understood.  He was going to pull away when Seb's fingers ghosted over his side and up his shoulder.  Seb's voice was breathy, the normal tint of arrogance different.  Less off-putting, but scarier.  "And that whole innocent thing?  Super hot." 

Blaine would have sworn he felt Seb's lips ghost over his jaw just under his ear before he spun around and walked off, whistling to himself. 

But he was probably just fooling himself.

Seb had seen far too much of him to want what was there.

Stop. 

Don't spiral. 

Do better.  Work harder.

Unlock your door. 

Go inside.

Check syllabi for tomorrow. 

Double check when the Music building closes. 

Find sheet music.

 Grab pretzels, water, and apple.

 Check time. 

Repack bag in case there is time for homework before dinner and there is a spot at the library. 

Head back to Music building to practice. 

Practice. 

Library for homework.

He followed the simple directions he planned out for himself.  He managed to open the door, setting his bag on the chair and turning on the laptop sitting on his desk.  As it booted up he went into the kitchen and took out a bag for the pretzels and filled it, tossing it across the room to land next to his bag before digging out an apple, washing it and biting into it as he crossed back to his laptop.  Logged in, he flipped open his bag, adding the pretzels to a side pouch and pulling out the syllabi he had printed earlier and the black leather-bound planner.  He checked the syllabi for the classes that would meet on Tuesdays-introduction day only, only the syllabus needed-then the ones that meet on Wednesday-French written work and History reading.  Quickly locating the necessary textbooks and notebooks, he slid those into his bag. 

Blaine rolled his shoulders, getting a few satisfying pops down his back and shoulders as he sat down in the computer chair and opened up a browser, reaching over to grab the remote for the stereo while the internet loaded.  Generic pop radio filled the room.  Blaine prided himself on listening to just about anything and having a respectable collection of music, but top-40 was his guilty pleasure. 

Internet loaded, Blaine opened up what he had always used to find sheet music as well as the Music library's website (on the off-chance they had the song he needed).  Bored with the commercials on every radio station, Blaine pulled up iTunes and hit shuffle.

And the perfect song hit him.

Sometimes, he wondered if his iTunes shuffle was magic.  He remembered it doing this when he was in high school and looking for ideas for his Glee club.  He'd spend hours thinking of songs, all good but none perfect.  And then he'd take a break and let iTunes decide what to play.  The next song it would pick was always what he would bring to the Warbler's council.  What they would insist he sing lead on.

Knowing he had the song, the once-familiar determination washed over him.  He essentially knew the words.  It was just perfecting them and getting the piano part down.  He wondered if he could memorize it before Wednesday. 

Searching quickly and efficiently for sheet music was something he didn't think he would have remembered how to do.  Blaine was wrong.  He found the music, scanned the range and changed the key down a bit.  Professor Schuester hadn't said that wasn't specifically forbidden, so he hoped it would be okay.  Because that song.  In that key, landing the notes in (what he had been told to be) the most emotionally powerful part of his range, this song might be enough to make him worthy of what the department had allowed him to do.    

Indicating he was a university student in a music program (with a quick confirmation email to his school email) and the sheet music was free and printing.  Waiting for the printer to stop noisily clacking away, Blaine checked the Music school's website-classes ended at 10:10 pm, the building was locked for the night at 10:30 pm. 

Blaine closed his laptop and turned off the stereo, pulling his bag onto his shoulder.  He paused before opening the door.  Water.  You forgot the water, dumbass.  He walked back to the fridge and took out a water bottle.  It slid into the pouch on the side as the keys clinked together as he picked them up off the counter where he had placed them. 

With his mind full of music the walk to the Music building passed quickly.  Blaine nodded to Ms. Pillsbury sitting at the desk and organizing her forms. 

"Your room should be open, Mr. Anderson."  He froze briefly, wondering if he had done something wrong and ignored some unknown protocol. 

"I'm sorry.  I know it's not my time slot and I shouldn't have just assumed that it would be free."

"No worries, Mr. Anderson.  The schedule will not be confirmed until after drop/add week.  I was simply letting you know you weren't in for a surprise."

Oh.  "Umm.  Thank you, ma'am.  I'll let you get back to work."

Blaine vaulted up the stairs as fast as he could.  Not because Ms. Pillsbury wasn't nice.  She was.  He didn't even bother to figure out why he had run out of the room, lock clicking as he opened his door.  He couldn't hear anything from the supposedly ‘paired' room.  It was probably just a superstition.  Or a joke played on new students.  Or a way to push the new students to push themselves more?

The sound of his bag unzipping was harsh in the otherwise silent room.  Blaine pulled out the sheet music and the water bottle.  The water went by his foot on the ground, the music in its place on the piano.  He stretched his arms over his head and then brought his hands down to the keys, automatically sitting up straighter. 

His warm up re-centered him.  Then he pulled the music so he could see it.  First the accompaniment.  It didn't seem too complicated.  Soon enough, Blaine had it decently down-not performance ready, but within range.  Vocals came next, fingers plunking the melody until he knew it.  Then together, section by section.  A quick break, a drink of water and a walk around the room.  He checked his phone, on silent out of respect for anyone who might be in a practice room around him, no calls, only a text from Cooper saying he wouldn't be able to talk that night and he was free on Tuesday if Blaine was.  Blaine responded, slid the phone back into his pocket, and resumed his seat on the piano bench.

He ran through the piece a few more times, listening hard during the sections he wasn't as confident on.  Feeling slightly more confident, he pulled out his phone again and praying that no one else was still in the building to be bothered.  An honest opinion would never hurt, and Wes knew music, so Blaine thought this was worth the risk.

"Blaine!  I didn't expect to hear from you this week.  I thought you'd be buried in some books planning your semester and putting the rest of us to shame."

"Umm.  No.  I...I want your opinion on something."  He struggled through the words.  Asking was the hardest part.  The moments before the performance, the moments after.  The worrying about the judging.  He was probably interrupting Wes' day.  He might have class soon, after all it wasn't that late.  The concern that it isn't ready, it hadn't been enough yet. 

"Sure.  I'm done with class for the day.  What do you need?"

"ItisalongstorybutIamtakingamusicclassandIhavetoauditionandIwouldreallylikeforyoutolistentoit."

"Could you say that again in English?"

"I..uhh..I'm taking a music class and I have to perform on Wednesday and I'd like for you to listen to what I have so far."

There was a whoop of joy from Wes.  "You're in music again!  Thank goodness.  I had a hard time watching you without it last year.  Of course I'll listen.  I only listened to you multiple rehearsals a week for four years."

"Uhh.  Okay.  So, I'm going to put you on speaker?"

"Of course."

Blaine pressed the appropriate button before setting the phone down on the piano.  "Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear.  Ready when you are."

Blaine closed his eyes.  Counted to ten slowly.  He re-opened them slowly and then started the introduction.  He sang, pouring his heart into the words, trying to conjure emotion from the keys.  He stumbled a little in places.  Nearly had a mishap as a sheet tried to decide it didn't want to stay in its proper place.    

And then it was over.  He reached down and picked up his water, taking a few shallow sips.

Wes remained silent.

10 seconds.

15.

"Wes?" 

"I'm here.  Just speechless.  Don't ever stop singing again, okay?"

"What did you think?"

"Shaky on the second verse and end of the bridge.  What you were confident on you were very confident on.  The rest was still better than it has every right to be."

"Okay.  Thank you."

"Any time.  I miss hearing you sing.  Want to catch up over dinner sometime this week?  Friday, maybe?  And do some I-survived-the-first-week celebrating?"

"I'll get back to you on that."

"I'll take it.  Have a good rest of the week and break a leg on the audition, Blaine."

"Thank you.  You too, Wes."

The call ended.  Blaine stood up to get a pencil from his bag.  He saw a figure walk past his door, possibly the same one from Saturday, a back covered in a black shirt, sliver of pale skin at the collar, jean-clad legs ending in calf-high boots.

Blaine stretched again, oddly stiff.  He glanced down at his watch.  Well then.  That would be why.  He had been practicing for hours.  If he flexed his fingers and lightly clearing his throat he could feel it-a tiredness found only in the wake of a long rehearsal.  Blaine marked the sections Wes had indicated and a few notes of his own.  Deciding that he should probably stop for the day and start on the rest of his homework, Blaine cleared the music and water bottle back into his bag, leaving the room and locking it behind him.

Ms. Pillsbury wasn't at her usual post as he left the building, the hour being far later than normal business hours.  But, thankfully, not later than the library (and the attached coffee shop) would be open. 

The library was nearly empty at this hour on the first day of classes.  A quick stop to get a cup of coffee and a biscotti, then he was settled at a desk in the back (currently deserted) corner of the library.  He pulled out his planner, the history book, and his notebook and set to reading.