Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters in that fandom, no matter how much I wish I did. I'm but a fanfiction writer than aims to please my friends in the roleplay that has so generously brought this pairing to light.

Spring break was a phenomenal time to do absolutely everything under the sun, or an exasperating amount of nothing if you were Blaine Anderson. While it was true that he had his beloved Kurt to fawn over for these two weeks of vacation, it also remained a fact that Saturday was his time with the girls of New Directions. As much as his heart ached for his boyfriend's presence, he knew any protests he put up would be in vain. After Kurt had transferred to Dalton he had seen little of his friends, it was a small price for Blaine to pay to ensure his partner's happiness.

Sprawled onto his couch, trackpants riding low and the t-shirt he had bought at Katy Perry's last concert wrinkled and worn, Blaine huffed a heavy sigh. Groping blindly, fingers brushing against the coffee table, he snatched up the tube of strawberry lip balm that his best friend, Jeff, had abandoned there a few nights prior. Slicking it on to his already well moisturized lips for the billionth time that day, the brunette groaned in mental agony.

In all the years they had known each other, Blaine and Jeff were inseparable, at least until Kurt came along. Jeff claimed to have understood Blaine's need to connect with someone of the same sexuality, maybe even get a boyfriend, but deep down he was hurt. The blonde couldn't even count the nights, nowadays, he spent alone or with Nick, because Blaine was off making googoo eyes at the counter-tenor. "It sucks," he would complain, but that's all he would say on the matter as Blaine was simply too blind-sided by his love.

Rolling onto his stomach and hiking up his pants to an appropriately acceptable position on his hips, Blaine stretched his little body across the sofa. He grunted lightly with the effort it took to reach his cellphone on the side table where his mother's decorative lamps mocked him senseless. He slid his fingers across the keys with a practiced ease and, within twenty minutes, his prayers were answered as a lanky blonde, clad in matching sweatpants and a Warblers hoodie, burst through the doorway. "Blainers, I'm home!" called the taller boy, his voice rich with a familiar warmth.

"Jeffie!" squealed Blaine, parkouring over the furniture, throwing himself into his best friend's open arms.

While they'd grown older, one thing that had never changed was Blaine's overwhelming desire to be in physical contact with his best friend. Jeff's hands clasped themselves under the curly haired male's rear, hoisting him up without any noticeable effort. "What have you been eating, Blainers?" he teased, pressing their foreheads together playfully, brown eyes meeting torturous hazel. If the underclassman was a real canine, as Jeff continued to make reference to, then his ears would have drooped in sincere hurt.

"I'm not fat," he protested, pouting his glossy lips.

"I never said you were—Is that…my…?" Jeff set Blaine on his feet, reaching up a tentative finger to wipe away some residue on the side of his mouth. "My… chapstick?"

The miniature teen nodded excitedly, producing the cylindrical container from his deep pockets. Out of habit, he re-applied the waxy substance. Jeff twitched nervously, turning his pelvis away from the other male.

Blaine latched onto Jeff's hand with an unintentional vice grip and dragged him towards the sitting area where he had the video game controllers set up. Blaine plopped him onto the cushions. Taking his usual spot to his left, he crossed his legs and smirked. Jeff exhaled a raggedy breath as he mashed the centre button on his handheld, the whole thing whirring to life.

With a sly glance at the blonde, Blaine slid the tube into the small pocket on the front of Jeff's jeans. The older boy twitched and writhed with the contact, a mewl escaping his lips. "Blainers, no. You can't just touch people there."

"I'm not doing anything wrong," he squeaked, pursing his lips. "I was just giving it back."

"Well, you know what that does Blainers… You shouldn't take other people's things." He smacked a pillow over his own lap, wiggling his hips.

"But you left it here," he moaned. "I didn't take it!" Big hazel eyes bore shamelessly into brown, pleading for forgiveness. Jeff grunted a reply, averting his gaze with a darkened blush.

A hand darted out to fist itself into the shorter boy's dark, ungelled curls. "Shhh," Jeff cooed, relaxing his fingers to scratch at Blaine's scalp soothingly. "I'm not mad, just calm down. …And stop giving me that look."

"What look?" The puppy eyes were unbearable.

"THAT look… I— nevermind." Jeff's fingers twirled themselves in Blaine's hair, running them through like he would with any distressed animal. "Your hair is REALLY soft."

"I've heard that before."

"Shut up. You know I like it… I don't get to touch it as much when…"

"When…?"

"When Kurt's around."

"I miss him."

"I know you do, Blainers… But I'm very proud of you for not gluing yourself to your cellphone like you did before you two got together. …That was really scary. It's like you were gonna bite me if I even touched it."

Amber eyes met brown, gloriously teasing. Jeff coloured to his roots— he knew the exact event that Blaine was recalling.

During their freshman year at Dalton, they had had a bit too much to drink, as teenagers do on occasion, and Jeff had found a very drunken Blaine Anderson leeching from his neck while they both sprawled out on a lawn chair. They'd always been close with one another, and reuniting after a stifling two years of middle school got their sloshed gears turning. Jeff Sterling, an admittedly straight student, seemed to have no problem with a stumbling Blaine leaving a nasty red mark on his neck that rivaled the worst of bruises he'd received in gym class. Jeff had thought he would have had a hard time explaining it to his parents, but Mrs. Sterling merely smiled knowingly and walked away leaving Jeff with only his thoughts to occupy him.

"Shut up," growled the blonde defensively, avoiding Blaine's gaze.

The shorter male then pounced on him and, on instinct, Jeff flipped him over so that Blaine found himself pinned to the couch cushions, the lanky boy straddling his waist and catching his wrists to hold his arms above his head. "Are you quite finished?" he muttered, shaking his head in feigned exasperation.

"No," mumbled Blaine into his shoulder, pouting all the while. He tried to shift beneath his taller friend, their pelvises grinding against one another as they both wriggled— Blaine to get free and Jeff to pin him there. "Lemme go," he squeaked, mewling pathetically as he flopped back down, Jeff grinning triumphantly down at him.

"Say please."

"PLEASE!"

"Good boy, Blainers."

Without much thought regarding his actions, Jeff made to slide off the smaller male and, being as careless as he was, shouldn't have been surprised over the dark haired teen's obscene shouting of curses.

"W-what did I do?" he stammered, looking Blaine over in panick.

Blaine's hands flew to wedge themselves between their clothed members. "Move! Get off!"

Jeff yelped, his body responding without his permission to Blaine's rough and sudden touch. Brown eyes stared down at Blaine's face as his cheeks flushed with unregistered emotion. It was not that hormonal spikes were uncommon between the two of them, but Blaine wasn't in the mood to dirty the front of his undergarments that day. Besides, he had yet to be anywhere near as intimate with Kurt, and he certainly wasn't about to do this with his heterosexual best friend.

"O-on three?" whispered Jeff, eyes scrunched closed in concentration.

Blaine nodded, though he knew his friend would not see the motion. They breathed each other in, letting every inch of contact burn with the intensity of their passion and, when the allotted time was up, rolled opposite each other, Blaine landing on the floor while Jeff hand pulled himself up onto the back of the couch. The curly haired male lay panting, a hand on his heaving chest and the other still firmly clutching his package, willing it to shrink down to flaccidity.

"Not that it's my business," called the blonde warbler, breaking the silence. "But have you and Kurt like… you know? I don't want to know… but … Well, okay, I want to know 'cause you've been, erm, weird lately."

The only reply he got was a quick shake of the head from Blaine.

"O-oh… well that's… cool then—"

"I want to, though…"

"Well, I… uh, good for you?"

"Is it any good…?"

"Wh- I… well… Uh… I wouldn't… I mean since I'm—"

"Don't lie, Jeff, it doesn't suit you. I know you've slept with Alice before."

"Oh… I thought you meant with like… Only once, I swear it!"

Jeff fumbled with the zipper on his hoodie, trying to pull it all the way up to hide his embarrassment. While it was true that Jeff and Alice, a petite brunette that had annoyingly similar physical and personal traits to Blaine, had been together for an ample amount of time (after he'd gotten over Quinn), Jeff had been the perfect gentleman when it came to all intimate relations.

"Well, it was… good. I c— Blaine, why are we discussing this?"

Another shrug.

"Earth to Blainers, you're approaching the planet of crazy."

"Tell me how you did it," was he monotone, lacklustre retort.

Jeff's eye bore down on him, a look of thorough confusion plastered on his features. His face scrunched up as he pondered the answer he was going to give Blaine. "I don't get how you can just say things like that," he exhaled, reiterating a comment that had come up earlier that day.

"You love me anyway."

"That's not the point."

"Was it romantic?"

"I… I guess."

"So that's the way to go then… dinner… back massage… cuddles and… okay."

They locked eyes once more, an unspoken connection between the two making Blaine's telepathic idea all the more unreasonable.

"No," refused Jeff, crossing his arms defensively.

"Oh c'mon…! It won't be the whole thing."

"I'm not helping you practice, Blainers. It's date night."

"Good, because we're having date night here while my parents are out. I've got some vodka stashed upstairs."

Jeff shot Blaine a warning glance, his heart melting once he saw the pleading in his best friend's eyes. The blonde's shoulders slumped, the fabric evening itself out. He could never say no to Blaine. "F-fine… What do you need me to do?" he asked, motioning for Blaine to rejoin him on the couch so that he may stroke his hair.

"Forget it, we're going out tonight."

Jeff blinked back surprise, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. "…Where?"

"Scandals."

A/N: To be continued…? Not sure how I feel about this one yet. :3 Hope you've enjoyed.