write on!

Because Kurt was cool as a cucumber, he didn’t check his texts first thing when he got home for the night. He checked the mail, brought the trash bin back in from the curb, started a load of laundry, swept the (already spic and span) floors, and did a quick tidy-up of the living room and kitchen. Because he hadn’t forgotten his promise to himself to go back to doing regular workouts, he changed into sweats and filled himself a water bottle before heading down to the basement where the Hummels kept their home gym. Then he checked his texts.

From: Bastian 😏😘🍆

I’m mad at u.

Kurt frowned in confusion and sprawled out on the daybed, content to give his phone his full attention again. He and Sebastian had discussed their schedules for the day, and all Sebastian had really had on his docket was a single lecture, an intramural basketball game (except not really an intramural game, since the season hadn’t started. Just a group of friends who booked a gym), and nebulous hangout time with his teammates. Kurt had no idea what he could have done to draw any ire.

To: Bastian 😏😘🍆

What did I do?

From: Bastian 😏😘🍆

My team won tonight and I was pretty much the MVP of the game, so I got to suggest what we do for chill time after. And you know what I said? “I could really go for a karaoke night, you guys!” And everyone agreed! These fuckers couldn’t carry a tune if I gave them a bucket with rubber comfort grips. &+ I drove here, so I can’t even drink until they sound okay unless I'm willing to spend several more hrs with this caterwauling.

To: Bastian 😏😘🍆

How is any of that my fault???

From: Bastian 😏😘🍆

I spend ONE day with you and suddenly I wanna find the nearest stage and jukebox? Clearly your sing songiness rubbed off while we were rubbing off.

To: Bastian 😏😘🍆

Bitch please, you overthrew the warblers council so you could become their uncontested lead soloist before you even met me!

From: Bastian 😏😘🍆

Yeah ok but I did that because I love being on top of the social ladder, not because I love singing. And FYI I was still in the process of doing it when I met you.

To: Bastian 😏😘🍆

Are you actually mad at me or just grumpy because your friends are hurting your ears?

Kurt smirked in victory when Sebastian went a full minute without responding.

To: Bastian 😏😘🍆

Because you know I didn’t make it into the best vocal conservatory in the country for nothing. So if you want to sing with someone who knows what they’re doing, I’d be more than happy to make a night out of it with you. And I have SingStar too, if you wanted to have a night in instead.

From: Bastian 😏😘🍆

You still free tomorrow?

To: Bastian 😏😘🍆

I’m going shopping with Santana in the evening. Nothing else, though!

Instead of buzzing with another message, Kurt’s phone rang. He accepted the call quickly and sat up to talk.

“The same Santana who reamed you out the day before yesterday?” Sebastian was shouting, and Kurt knew it wasn’t just because he was calling from a noisy bar where some stranger was butchering Tell Her About It.

“Hello to you too, Sebastian. My day was lovely, and yours?”

“Don’t tell me you forgave her already.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

“Kurt!”

“She apologized! We had a big dramatic moment about it. Tears and hugging and everything.” Kurt heard a heavy huff on the other end of the line and squeezed his leg to his chest, tucking his knee under his chest. “Bastian, come on, please don’t be angry at her on my behalf.”

“It’s no trouble on my part!” A heavy thud, and suddenly the background noise was gone. Kurt assumed Sebastian had stepped outside so they could talk comfortably. “I know you said you can’t hold a grudge to save your life, but you know she at least deserved to be frozen out for a few days. She has to understand that she can’t treat you that way. And I don’t just mean chewing you out.”

“She understands. She told me she’s gonna be here for me from now on and she’s already walked the walk,” Kurt said, voice soft and soothing. “I actually think you really got to her with that text. Thank you by the way, for defending me like that.”

“Anytime, babe,” he replied. They were quiet for a moment, content to listen to each other’s breathing, before Sebastian spoke again. “So how was your day?”

Kurt let out a small chuckle and relaxed again, repositioning himself to sit cross-legged with his back against the wall. “It was lovely, thank you for asking. Breadstix was delicious in its awful Breadstix way.”

“You plan on telling me what ‘you probably will, winky face’ means now?”

“You’re a worldly young gentleman, Sebastian. I think you can figure it out.”

“But I wanna hear you say it,” he teased.

“No.”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Say it.”

“No!”

“I am the youngest of five children, Kurt. I could literally keep this up for hours.”

“Five children? Are your parents quiver full or something?”

Sebastian barked out a loud laugh and Kurt felt a smile take over his face at the sound. “Oh man, imagine my gay heathen ass being raised by evangelicals.” He let out a happy little sigh and Kurt could just picture him shaking his head in amusement. “No, my parents just really wanted a girl.”

“And they didn’t get one after five tries?” Kurt gasped. “Those poor souls! What are the chances of that happening?”

“One in… thirty-two,” Sebastian answered easily. “That’s not what happened though. They had three sons before they finally got Mia on the fourth try, and then I happened nine years later.”

“Nine years, huh? It wasn’t enough for you to be a ‘we thought we were done but nope, one more’ kind of oopsie baby; you had wait to nearly a decade just to blindside ‘em even harder. So dramatic, Sebastian! I live for it.”

“Wow, you really don’t beat around the bush, do you, sweetheart? Story goes that when my parents found out about Mia, Dad drove my mom to the jewelry store and bought a diamond the size of a baby’s fist because that was gonna be her birthstone. When they found out about me, Mom drove my dad to get a vasectomy.”

Kurt couldn’t contain his laughter, only stopping when Sebastian whined his name in protest. “Sorry! I’m sorry. I’m sure you were a welcome blessing in the family home, unexpected though you were.”

“Hell yeah, I was,” Sebastian agreed. “Now back to Breadstix.”

Kurt groaned heavily and pressed his cold water bottle to his cheek, trying to stave off his blush even if there was no one there to see it. “Why do you enjoy my suffering?”

“Because it nourishes my soul to think about how red you must be right now.”

For a split second, Kurt seriously considered checking his house for surveillance equipment. He had debugged the place before moving back in— Sue Sylvester deserved to be in jail, no two ways about it— but the urge was still there. “Ugh,” he grunted instead. “Fine! So Lima used to have a drive-in theatre, but then since this hellhole just isn’t allowed to have culture, it got shut down by some local advocacy groups because apparently it was a hotbed for teenage immorality or whatever. Then in came Breadstix where the theatre used to be,” Kurt said in a rush, wanting to get his explanation out quickly. “And in order to spite the parents who got their beloved drive-in shut down, the adolescents of Allen County collectively decided that Breadstix would be their new hotbed of teenage immorality.”

“Does that mean you and your friends had an orgy after eating?”

“Ew, no!” Kurt cringed and shook his head before gathering the will to continue. “We’re incestuous enough, thanks. That first generation of teenagers held on to their hangout spot even when they had teenagers of their own, and slowly Breadstix became a legitimate family restaurant. The history of the place has been pretty much entirely forgotten, especially after they opened another one in the mall, and now it’s just where you go if you wanna get a meal. But if someone is going there for date night… maybe it’s like, genetic memory or something, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a sexually active couple who planned a Breadstix date unless they had the house to themselves after.”

Sebastian let out a long, low whistle. “That was a much more involved explanation than I was expecting.”

“Sorry,” Kurt mumbled. “I’m really rambly about really useless stuff sometimes, as I’m sure you’ve gathered. Feel free to shush me whenever, I don’t take offence.”

“Just because it’s not useful doesn’t mean it isn’t interesting,” Sebastian reassured, and Kurt could just tell that he was smiling one of those smiles that shone with fondness and tended to precede a kiss. “So does Kurt Hummel fancy himself a local historian?”

“Oh no, I don’t think I have the enthusiasm to call myself one,” Kurt demurred. “When I was younger, one of the things I hated most about Lima was how unbearably, unendingly plain everything is. Or maybe plain isn’t the word so much as bleak. I dunno, I guess I was always just desperate to find out that things here have deeper underlying meaning. For the places I go to be more than they were, for this town to have some flavour and colour beneath all the beige. I think that’s what’s so magical about New York,” Kurt continued, a wistful smile on his face as he thought about home. “Every brick in every building has a story to tell. And even if I never find out what the story is, I know it’s there, and I know there are more stories being written every day. The city is bigger than itself, and when you become part of it you feel like you’re bigger than yourself too.”

Kurt didn’t get any response for a while; he would have wondered if their line dropped, were it not for the ambient noise still carrying through. Finally, Sebastian cleared his throat and spoke again. “Not the shopping or shows?”

“Well, those are pretty great too,” Kurt conceded.

“I bet,” Sebastian murmured. “So, will you and the she-devil be shopping in Lima tomorrow evening?”

“I feel like you should be aware that Santana considers she-devil a complimentary nickname. And yes, we will.”

“So you probably won’t be willing to drive down here and back to spend the day with me,” Sebastian surmised.

“I’m sorry, hon, but I don’t think my butt could handle another four hours of driving as it is,” Kurt apologized. “I thought you had an essay that needs writing, anyway?”

“Eh, I’m gonna dip out of this black hole of talent and head home. I can get that shit finished by the end of the night, so that opens up my day tomorrow.”

“The infamous Sebastian Smythe doing homework on a Friday night?” Kurt let out an exaggerated gasp. “What has the world come to?”

“Hey, now! I’ll have you know I hooked up with this really hot guy last night. My body is still recovering from exhaustion.”

“I know the feeling. Strangest coincidence, but I also hooked up with a really hot guy last night! Now I’ve got a hickey the size of Texas on my ass to show for it.”

“Sounds gnarly.”

“Oh, it is. You better bring some arnica gel when you drive up to Lima tomorrow.”

Sebastian chuckled lightly. “I can do that.”

“Wonderful,” Kurt said. “What time are you thinking?”

“Is eleven good? We can do lunch and then whatever. But not at Breadstix, their Yelp still scares me.”

“Eleven’s great,” Kurt agreed. “And we actually do have more than one restaurant in this town, shocking though it may be. But you gotta know that Breadstix is an inevitability for you.”

“We’ll see,” Sebastian said, still sounding dubious. “I’m gonna bid farewell to my buddies now, text me your address.”

“Of course, see you tomorrow, Sebastian.”

“See you!” With that, Sebastian hung up.

For an admirable length of time, Sebastian wasn’t brought up again. Even when Kurt ordered the penne with Italian sausage, the jokes around the table were the generic, ‘he sure does love his sausage’ type, which he would have expected no matter what.

It was only after most of the group was finished with entrées and debating whether they would go for dessert— Sandy had already left them with the split bill, because she already knew how things would probably go— that Sam suddenly dropped his fork with a clang and pushed his near empty plate away. “Okay,” he said, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “I tried real hard to keep my mouth shut, but I just can’t anymore.” He crossed his arms and placed them on the table, leaning his weight on them. Sam’s brows were furrowed, his mouth set in a frown. “What the hell, Kurt? You’re not really planning to sleep with that guy again, are you?”

Kurt raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips, Ice Queen Mode initiated when he heard the judgement dripping from Sam’s words. “Well, not right away, but yes. I do plan to sleep with Sebastian again.”

“Wait, why not right away? You enjoyed yourself last night, right?”

Kurt turned to Puck, disposition instantly warmer for a friend who only spoke with genuine consternation. “I did, I definitely did. It was pretty much the best time I’ve had in months. I just think it would be healthiest for both of us to take things slow first, until we get our bearings. So we’re gonna hold off on the sex for a little while.”

He heard a snort of poorly concealed laughter and looked past Puck and Quinn so he could squint suspiciously at Rachel. She fiddled determinedly at what was left of her awful meatballs rather than look him in the eye. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What’s what supposed to mean?” She asked, face set into her I’m an innocent, wide-eyed ingenue who doesn’t mean any trouble and is definitely not lying at all, REALLY face.

“That snort, Rachel. What does that snort mean? There were insinuations in that snort.”

Rachel bit her lip before visibly giving up the act. “Well, it’s just— I understand your intentions, Kurt, and this isn’t meant to be a slight, truly! But… I don’t think you’re being realistic, here.”

“How am I being unrealistic?”

Rachel opened her mouth to respond, no doubt earnestly, when Sam cut her off. “You’re being unrealistic if you think a guy like him will keep it in his pants and wait around for you to be ready to take off yours. Especially when you put out once already.”

“No!” Rachel objected, eyes bugging out in shock. “No, that’s not what I was going to say at all, Kurt, believe me!”

“Well, then I’ll say it,” Sam said with a shrug. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s a bad guy and you can’t trust him to stay faithful.”

“Oh, is that so, Guppy Lips?” Santana responded before Kurt got a chance to. “Then please, enlighten us as to who exactly Kurt can trust. Because I dunno if you remember, but he dated a so-called good guy and said good guy did a shit job on the staying faithful front. Now, Smythe’s been texting Kurt the entire time they’ve been out of each other’s sight, so I think it’s safe to say that Chipmunk’s made it a whole day without running around on Chipette. That already brings him nearly halfway to meeting Blaine’s record!” She plastered a grin on her face and clapped her hands in mock excitement before returning to her previous expression of disdain. “I get it that you decided you weren't willing and able to stay celibate for a radiant queen like Mercedes Jones— which, by the way, was an unbelievably stupid decision on your part, because she is well worth the wait— but that doesn’t mean Prepster can’t do it for a radiant queen like Kurt Hummel; even when he was evil, he was never dumb, and ruining things with someone as great as Kurt would be fucking moronic. So here’s what I suggest you do: go to the nearest Goodwill, purchase a sturdy pair of jeans in the largest size you can find, take out the fly, and surgically attach it to the seam of your lips so you can zip that bizarrely sized mouth of yours shut.”

“Santana,” Tina chastised, in that quiet way people had when they were trying to slow down an Auntie Snix tirade without getting caught in the line of fire themselves. “Sam is only speaking out of concern.”

“Concern for his BFF who doesn't know how to function unless he’s someone’s boyfriend, will inevitably break up with the one he’s got, and could quite possibly lose his fallback? Yeah, I’d be concerned too. That isn’t Kurt’s problem though.”

“Blaine knows how to function without being someone’s boyfriend,” Tina protested. “He did it for months when Kurt kept him dangling!”

“I thought he was dating Sam when that happened,” Brittany said softly.

“What? No,” Sam said with a shake of his head. “I was dating you, Brittany.”

Brittany cocked her head to the side and scrunched her nose at him. “Are you sure? I feel like you and Blaine were at least kinda dating.”

“Well, they weren’t,” Tina snapped. “Try to keep the fuck up for once in your life.”

Wow, that is the diametrical opposite of the sort of thing one says when trying to avoid the wrath of Auntie Snix.

The air at their table dropped a few degrees, and Kurt wasn’t the only one whose breath hitched in anticipation and fear.

Tina, to her credit, rushed out an apology before Santana had the chance to rip into her. “Shit, I’m sorry, Britt. I didn’t— That was out of line. I apologize.” Her eyes flickered over to Santana, then back to Brittany. “Sorry.”

Brittany blinked, slowly, twice, before a wide grin made its way to her face and her eyes sparkled. “I just remembered! Blaine wanted to date Sam and you wanted to date Blaine and both of you were really sad and hopeless and pathetic for a really long time. My bad.”

Tina smiled back. Or rather, she tried to. It looked more like a grimace.

Kurt’s friendship with Brittany was going on five years old. He’d known the girl, been friendly with her since they were both children attending Lima’s lone dance academy, but he had only truly become friends with her through glee club. And even after five years, he still wasn’t sure whether she was a bowl of Froot Loops without the milk, or an evil genius putting on airs of empty-headedness to better conceal her machinations. Tonight he was leaning towards the latter.

“God,” Sam huffed. “Can we stop talking about freaky weird high school crushes, already!”

“Why?” Kurt crossed his legs under the table, hands clasped over his knee, and lifted his chin defiantly. “You want to go back to talking about my dating life as if it’s any of your damn business, Sam?”

“It is my business! Blaine is my best friend and he loves you, Kurt, and you love him back! So when I see you acting like a giggling school girl over someone else less than two weeks after you promised you would do anything to get him back, it is my business. I thought you guys were soulmates. Soulmates are supposed to fight for each other. So why the hell aren’t you fighting?”

Kurt could see Santana gearing up to answer, and he appreciated her more than she would ever know, but he caught her eye and gave a minute shake of the head to let her know that he could handle himself.

“Sam,” Kurt began, voice deliberately light and airy. He brought his hands back up, so he could hold his glass of iced tea and twirl the straw around. “I know that Blaine is your best friend, but the way I remember things, you were my friend first. And I’m not saying that in an attempt to make you feel guilty for having his best interests at heart or anything like that, so we’re clear. I don’t think there’s ever been a breakup in the glee club that left people picking sides, and even if we were to start with this one, I still would never resent you picking him. I’m glad he has you, because God knows he needed a friendship with actual substance like you guys have now. I’m just saying, for all that I was too girly and flamboyant and different for you and I to be bros, we were friends. We were friends before you met Blaine, and long before you liked him. I did everything in my power to help you and your family when you were struggling, and you put your neck on the line to try and protect me when I was being harassed. Even if we didn’t get each other, we respected each other.” Kurt sighed breathily and let his voice return to its natural timbre. “So it hurts that you think so little of me as to believe I would throw my morals and dignity out the window and chase someone who is happily taken. And it makes me think a whole lot less of you to find out that you believe I should.”

Kurt picked up his glass and drained the last dregs of tea before sliding out of the booth and standing straight and proud. “When you love someone, you want them to be happy,” he said conversationally as he fished his wallet out of his borrowed pants. “I love Blaine, and he’s happier now than he was when we were together, so I’m not going to do anything to damage what he has with Karofsky. But more than that, I love myself. And you said it yourself, I’m giggling like a schoolboy over Sebastian; I think that’s a pretty strong indication of happiness.” He took out enough money to cover his bill and a tip, dropping his wallet back into his pocket and looking Sam in the eye. “It really isn’t your business, but I am fighting. I’m fighting for myself.”

Then Kurt tossed his money onto the table, turned on his heel, and took long strides towards the door. Not the most dramatic exit he’d made in his life, but smooth and confident and impactful enough to leave him feeling pleased with himself.

Or it would have been, if it hadn’t been for an ‘oof’ and the thud of a body hitting the floor sounding behind him. Kurt whipped back around, his feet carrying him forward again when he saw Puck splayed out on the floor. Kurt helped him back up just as Quinn was shoved out of the booth too, her reflexes fast enough to keep her on her feet.

“You don’t need to push, Santana!” Rachel squawked as she scooted across the newly empty seats and stumbled upright. She smoothed down her clothes with a huff and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “You’re freakishly strong. We get it. I was getting up anyway,” she said, stepping over to Kurt's side and linking their arms together.

“Well, none of you were moving fast enough,” Santana replied, sliding out at a leisurely pace. “They opened up a new fro-yo place across the street from T. J. Maxx,” she announced. “We’re checking it out now. No ‘buts’ allowed, no bitch ass party poopers invited.” Without waiting for confirmation and without another glance, she flounced out the restaurant and to her car.

“Guess we’re riding with you this time, Hummel,” Puck said, clapping Kurt on the shoulder while Quinn settled up their combined tab. “Dibs on shotgun!” And then he made a run out the door, as if anyone was going to fight him for the spot.

“Idiot,” Quinn muttered fondly. “You coming, Brittany?”

“No, I’m gonna to Tina’s to help her pack. I kick ass at spatial geometry.”

“All right then,” Quinn agreed with a shrug, turning to Kurt and Rachel.

“I’m gonna use my card, Quinn, we’ll meet you outside,” Rachel chirped, dragging Kurt to the front register with her.

Kurt leaned against the counter as Rachel paid up, snatching a handful of after dinner mints to stick in his jacket pocket while no one was looking. “So,” he said, popping another in his mouth as they made their way out the door. “Why the snort?”

“What snort?”

“Rachel.”

“Okay, fine!” Rachel released her hold on Kurt’s elbow and took a step away, stopping before they were within earshot of anyone. “Kurt, you know I love you, and I think the world of you. I firmly believe you can do almost anything you set your mind to. I’ve already saved a few domain names for when you inevitably become a big star in need of his own officially endorsed fan club and street team. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, Rach, I know,” he reassured.

“Good,” she said with a smile. She clasped her hands together and fiddled her thumbs for a moment before she took a deep breath. “Don’t be mad, but you’re deluded if you think you have a snowball’s chance in hell at being able to hold off on the sex.”

Kurt let out a scandalized gasp, one hand flying up to cover his mouth.

“I’m sorry Kurt, but you know it’s true!”

“I’m not some kind of sex addict!”

“I didn’t say you were,” she soothed. “But I lived with you, Kurt, and we had no walls, so I know how you get.”

“That sounds a lot like you calling me a sex addict.”

“Well, it isn’t.” She took his hands in her own and rubbed her thumbs over his knuckles. “You are at your best when you get physical intimacy— even just holding a friend’s hand like you are right now— and you spent a lot of your life not getting as much as you should. So when you want someone, you’re going to want to be intimate with him in that way. I know that it scares you, how sometimes sex means more and sometimes it doesn’t. But the thing is, Kurt, is that you are just about the bravest man I know, so maybe you should face your fears head on. Make your motivations known. Talk about it, Kurt.”

Kurt blushed and turned away, pointedly refusing to maintain eye contact.

Rachel took hold of his chin and turned his head to face her again. “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” she told him. “And if you find that taking things slow doesn’t work out for you, then that’s nothing to be ashamed of either, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Rachel smiled again and patted his cheek before starting them towards their cars.

“You seem surprisingly okay with me dating a notorious libertine,” Kurt noted with a teasing smile.

“Well, who am I to deny the allure of a bad boy?” Rachel asked, grinning cheekily. “Do you think they’ll have dairy free yogurt?”

“I’m doubtful.”

“I figured,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll make a fruit salad out of toppings.”

Ain’t That Strange by kumpez-blog

AU. Sebastian stumbles into a committed relationship. Sebastian/Kurt.

At the End of the Night by thatsoulforyouisinme

A million things ran through Sebastian’s head as he crossed the room, things like ‘Jesus Christ he IS hot!” and ‘What in the hell is he doing here?” He knew people changed, but there was no way Kurt Hummel was the kind of person who went to sex parties on purpose.

No freaking way.

Broken Open by DangerousBeans01

Kurt Hummel really needs a coffee, which, in the grand scheme of things is a little thing. Sometimes though, all you really need is little things to start something much, much bigger. A Kurtbastian fic

Coalesce by delighter

AU: A world where there are three recognized genders - male, female, and males with female genitalia, colloquially called ‘Boys’.

Kurt is a Boy who has been raised to blend in as a true male to avoid discrimination and regulation. By law, Boys must be bonded to a male or female due to their alleged lack of sexual control. The bond is chemically natural and extremely difficult to reverse. Boys are highly valued, extremely expensive, and sold young by their families. For more information on this world, please see the chapter ‘AU Study’.

Sebastian Smythe discovers the truth about Kurt one night at a party, violating Kurt while Kurt is passed out. To preserve his sexual identity, Kurt makes a deal with Sebastian: one more violation in return for Sebastian’s silence.

The deal backfires when both Kurt and Sebastian are overtaken by their physical reactions to each other and Kurt loses his virginity. By law, Sebastian is now entitled to Kurt’s bond.

This is the story of what happens next.

Don’t be a drag, just be a queen by flipmeforward

Written for this prompt on the GKM. Kurt finds it almost impossible to find stylish underwear in the men’s section, he has far more luck with women’s lingerie. He’s in a pretty new relationship with Sebastian and makes sure to wear normal (and boring) underwear when there is the possibility of a makeout session ahead, but one day he forgets and they are in Sebastian’s bedroom and Kurt is wearing red lace…

Except Because I Love You by inyourheadlights

Kurt might be kind of crushing on Sebastian, and there’s this weird miscommunication between them - they get off together sometimes, but they still pretty much act like they hate each other’s guts.

feel me coming close by addedcherries

Sebastian crashes a NYADA house party and happens upon the newly revered and idolized Kurt Hummel. Written for this GKM prompt.

AO3 link

Full Time Occupation by delighter

Mafia AU: Kurt needs to be happy, needs to be safe, for Sebastian to do his job. Which is why Sebastian is taking time out of his hectic schedule to monitor Kurt and his security detail.

Hints of Human Imperfection by monchy/tenementlady1

Kurt has dimensions and drinks too much coffee. Sebastian smokes too much and gets punched. They eat, they fuck, they yell. Hunter is generally amused.

Hot Stuff by maybe-theres-hope

In 1979, nearing the end of the disco era, a music executive happens upon a talented boy working in a record store who, he thinks, may help revive the dying genre with his high, sweet voice and his demure look, both sought after qualities in disco stars. In a flash whirlwind of fame, drugs, and sex, the two uphold a growing relationship built on mutual fighting attitudes and a love of the sound.

I Think I Wanna Marry You by thesearemyrandomthoughts

Kurt and Sebastian at Rachel’s wedding

Life’s a Trip by prettypurpleflower

Five times Kurt and Sebastian go on vacation together.

Like Animals by sexbornsmythe

Kurtbastian have broken up but they’ve still got a lot of UST. Maybe they finally do fuck each other’s brains out. Maybe they just have an explosive argument that’s followed by them fucking each other’s brains out. And then them getting back together. Or, you know, don’t. The key idea is them fucking each other’s brains out.

love him like he’s yours (because he is) by hummel-berryarchive

kurtbastian, specifically “fluffy kurtbastian sex, bottom!kurt/top!sebastian, where Kurt starts ‘happy squeaking’ during sex”

Marking Time by iaminarage

When Kurt can’t sleep, he calls Sebastian.

Of Secret Missions and Failed Plans by honeydewkisses

Canon until “On my Way”. In which Kurt sets out to discover Sebastian’s dark past and somehow ends up married to him along the way.

On the house by Loredib

The first time Kurt receives a cup, he blushes and blinks and tries to make sense of it, but he cannot.

Come with me back to the second season (?), probably. I’m nostalgic but have a bad memory. I mean that season with Sebastian and The Lima Bean, you know which one.

the one that starts out with a really awful date (and ends up pretty okay) by quinnfabs

short little thing based on this, kurtbastian

Pauses, then says, you’re my best friend by hayloulor

“Definitely,” Sebastian smiled, leaning in to give Kurt a quick kiss goodbye. “I’ll call you tonight, swear!” He called back as he started jogging to class.

Kurt, frozen in his spot, watched as Sebastian realized what he’d done and turned around to jog back to where Kurt stood.

“Fuck, I totally didn’t mean to do that.”

Rivalry by chillontheside

Sebastian and Kurt fight over yet another guy. His name is Paul.

Road Trip by hummeldreamsfic

Kurt, Rachel, Santana and Sebastian all head home to Ohio for the summer. In one car.

(12 000 words, NC-17, and i’d proobably stay away if you completely hate the idea of a little bit of pezberry. Also it kinda works as a follow-up to this, but all you really need to know is that kurt and sebastian have recently been discovered to be dating/sleeping together.)

Sting & Burn by amarx17

Prompt from the glee kink meme on LiveJournal: “Blaine can’t take no for an answer and is doing his best to take what he wants in the parking lot of Scandals when Kurt is saved by none other than Sebastian Smythe.”

Sequel to ‘Sting; gkm prompt fill: Sebastian likes challenges, always has and always will. Kurt Hummel is a challenge. In the words of Barney Stinson: challenge accepted. Kurbastian, rated M for a reason!

Summer Sun by blue-mood-blue

Blaine had a moment, about Kurt.  It’s just too bad that it happened in the middle of the summer.

Whipped by namasteanderson

“Kurt, you okay, there? Why are you fidgeting so much?”

The entire booth turned their attention to Kurt after hearing Sam’s concern. Kurt stilled his movements and tried his best not to look like a deer in headlights. “No reason,” he said, lips pursing when he realized how squeaky his voice sounded. But then, his voice was always high, so maybe it would go unnoticed. “Just got a case of ants in the pants, y’know how it is.”

“That happened to me once,” Brittany said, nodding in understanding. “I forgot I had a candy bar in my jeans pocket and left them on the grass while I went swimming. It was super itchy.”

Sam ignored her, gaze still trained on Kurt. “Are you sure? Because it looks like you’re having a real hard time sitting.”

Tina gasped, bouncing in her seat and with a sparkle in her eye like Christmas had come early. “Kurt,” she whispered conspiratorially, leaning over the table like it would make her words any more private despite the two of them being seated on opposite ends of the booth. “Are you wearing a plug right now?”

Kurt’s jaw went slack and his entire body snapped back in shock, hitting the back of the booth with a thud. “No, Tina!” He shook his head forcefully, hoping to expel the memory of her ever speaking those words to him from his brain. It did not work. “I am not wearing a plug after my first intimate encounter with a new man. Who does that? Why would you think that?”

Tina shrugged, clearly unbothered by her own inappropriateness, and it was moments like this one that made Kurt wonder what the hell had happened to her after he graduated. She hadn’t always been like this under the shyness, had she? “Well, your ‘new man’ made it perfectly clear that he fucked you last night. It’s not like it would have been a stretch, if you get what I’m saying.”

“I understood your innuendo, yes. You’re not nearly as subtle you think you are.”

“You guys,” Puck interrupted. “He’s squirming because he has a hickey on his ass and it hurts to apply pressure,” he explained patiently, like he was talking to a group of kindergarteners.

“How the fuck did you realize that?” Kurt’s hands flew down to the waistband of his pants (Sebastian’s pants) to make sure it was still snug above his hips. It was actually the stubble burn that was irritating him more than anything, but how did Puck know about the bite down there?

“He knows his hickeys,” Quinn reminded him, more concerned with slathering a complimentary breadstick with melted garlic butter than she was with the conversation at hand. Still, she dropped the finished breadstick on his plate before offering a comforting pat on his hand, like she was apologizing for her worse half.

“Hell yeah I do!” Puck slammed a hand down on the table, hard enough to make all their dishes clatter. “My boy got his ass ate last night!” He announced with a grin and a booming shout that could probably heard in the kitchens. He slapped Kurt’s back in congratulation, hard enough to knock some wind out of his chest. “Proud of you!”

“Oh my god,” Kurt screeched. “This is a family restaurant, Puck!”

“You see this?” Santana pointed one of her talons at Puck, waving it up and down. “This right here? This is exactly what the meerkat was talking about when he was questioning the heterosexuality of the glee boys at large.”

“Whatever,” Puck dismissed airily. “I’m just glad he finally got laid. The only way to get the stick out of Hummel’s ass is to replace it with a bigger one and I was about ready to get the job done myself.”

“You just made yourself sound even gayer!”

“Family! Restaurant!” Before today, Kurt had been certain he would never be able to hit whistle register in his life. He wasn’t so sure anymore.

“So what will everyone be having for their entrées?” Kurt could kiss Rachel for her attempt at redirecting the conversation. “I will… as always… be having the meatless meatballs, since corporate just keeps sending me gift cards instead of listening when I send letters requesting more than one vegan option.” She smiled wide, but it looked fractured. Understandable, Kurt thought, considering how many times in her life she’s had no choice but to eat those damn meatballs. They’re the worst thing on the menu.

He mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her and let the table turn to discussing what they would be having— like it really made a difference. Everyone would share everything, as always— as he pulled out his phone to check the message that had just come in.

From: Bastian 😏😘🍆

I bet my Italian food is better than yours.

His phone vibrated again, this time with a picture of Sebastian, smiling wide enough to make the skin around his eyes crinkle. He had a plate of greasy pepperoni pizza in front of him, and he was clearly in the same cafeteria they had eaten lunch in.

From: Bastian 😏😘🍆

Because I checked your place’s Yelp rating and I’ve never seen so much anger concentrated on one page on the internet. And I have seen some DARK corners of 4chan.

Kurt chuckled quietly and picked up the breadstick on his plate, letting one end rest against his bottom lip and snapping a picture of himself to send in reply.

To: Bastian 😏😘🍆

Our appetizers aren’t even at the table yet but you’re already wrong.

From: Bastian 😏😘🍆

Your face is the only appealing thing in that picture

From: Bastian 😏😘🍆

Is that thing bread or cardboard?

From: Bastian 😏😘🍆

Be honest with me. Are you actually having dinner right now, or did you book an ad to model for those embarrassing stock photos that people use for reaction pics? Are you going to be spending the rest of the night pretending to laugh with salad?

Kurt let out a giggle of amusement and wiped his fingers of oil from the butter, so he could text with both hands. Distantly, he was aware that the din of their booth had quieted down a bit, but it was hardly a cause for concern. Volume levels rose and fell during group outings like this one.

To: Bastian 😏😘🍆

If I had booked a modelling/advertising gig of ANY kind, I would be shouting it from the rooftops. Work is work is work. There are no small parts, only unemployed entertainers.

To: Bastian 😏😘🍆

And those people on Yelp didn't know what they were doing. When you come to Breadstix, you’ll be here with me! =D I promise will protect your delicate palate from this place’s duds.

From: Bastian 😏😘🍆

Nope. Sorry, babe, but I’m gonna have to give your beloved Faux-live Garden a hard pass. I will be skipping out on this supposed Ohio institution. I know a really good Italian restaurant run by actual Italian people in Findlay that we can go to instead.

To: Bastian 😏😘🍆

Nope. Sorry, babe, but the day WILL come that I take you on a classic Breadstix date night. I have picked my prize and this is it. The only question now is when I will collect.

From: Bastian 😏😘🍆

Seriously? THIS is what you want for your prize. I wasn’t lying when I said I could get you an apartment in soho.

To: Bastian 😏😘🍆

Yep! Mostly to annoy you tbh 😇

From: Bastian 😏😘🍆

Fuck you tbh

To: Bastian 😏😘🍆

You probably will 😉

“Whoa!”

Kurt bodily jolted back to awareness of his surroundings. Then he turned to glare up at Sam, who was looming over him and clearly reading the conversation as it happened. Kurt turned to his other side, and sure enough, Puck was reading over his shoulder. And judging by how Quinn was snapping back into proper sitting position after being caught leaning over Puck’s lap a few seconds ago, even she had been snooping. And Quinn Fabray very rarely gave a fuck about things she wasn’t directly involved in. It was an admirable quality that Kurt was a little jealous of sometimes.

Kurt flipped his phone face down and went back to glaring at Sam until the boy walked back to his side of the booth and sat back down, then widened the scope of his glower. “I know you know that what you guys just did was unacceptable. Any reason you had to ignore common courtesy and follow along with my private conversation?”

“You were totally checked out, dude. We just wanted to see what had your attention.” Puck shrugged. He knocked their shoulders together, and it was still, after all these years, shocking how gently he did it now compared to the shoulder checks that used to knock Kurt into lockers. “We probably won’t be seeing you again until those two get married,” he said, nodding his chin at Santana and Brittany. “So maybe put the phone away for a bit? We’re only gonna get so many chances to have so many of us in one place, y’know?”

Kurt sighed heavily but nodded, flipping his phone over to send one last message before slipping his cell back into his pocket.

From: Bastian 😏😘🍆

???

To: Bastian 😏😘🍆

I’ll tell you when I get home, phone’s off for dinner time. Talk soon! xx

It was T-minus one hour to glee club practice, so everyone was probably convened in the choir room— unless they were planning on actual choreography for the final group number, but Kurt knew the likelihood of that happening was slim. New Directions had really slipped in that regard since his class had graduated; even if they were doing an uptempo number, they’d probably just end up running around with balloons or something. He knew Rachel had zero interest in his ideas and contributions to directing the club, but on the off chance she recognized that he was generally better with choreography than she was, he planned to get their group dancing again.

Kurt made his way through the halls with a bounce in his step, boots tapping along the linoleum floor. He allowed himself a twirl as he rounded the corner— Sue Sylvester was terrible, but her war against adipose had come with the positive side effect of pushing the slushie tradition clean out of William McKinley. (He was technically a staff member so he should have been spared either way, but he looked young enough that it had been a real concern for him)— and strolled into the choir room happily.

The din of conversation coming from the New Directions alumni scattered across the first two rows of risers died as he entered, and they all turned to face him silently like one single organism. He waited for someone to start saying something so that everyone could start saying something until one voice (probably his, preferably his) rose above the clamour, just so they could all get the yelling over with and out of the way, but nobody stepped up to the plate. Huh, maybe they were all growing up?

He wouldn’t question his good fortune. Kurt strode forward and dropped into the first free seat in his path, one leg crossing over the other primly. He glanced to the side and did a double take when he noticed the heart-shaped container standing to the side of the room. The thing was humongous, probably tall enough to reach Kurt’s chest, and filled with who even knew how many fun-sized candy bars. Damn, how’d he miss that thing? “What’s with all the chocolates?” Kurt asked, tipping his chin at the display.

“It was my engagement present to Santana,” Brittany chirped from where she was sitting by Kurt’s shoulder in the row above him. “One mini Mounds bar for every minute we’ve spent together. Do you want some? Lord Tubbington will probably eat whatever we can’t finish, and he already used his new diet’s cheat day for this week.”

“I’m more of an Almond Joy man myself, but thank you, Britt.”

A snort drew Kurt’s attention to Puck. “Oh, I bet you are,” he said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Kurt blushed and turned his nose up at the crude (but not inaccurate) euphemism, turning to look the other way. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And I’m pretty sure that’s a love bite right there.” Puck reached across the empty seat between them and poked at a bloom of red peeking out from behind the scarf wrapped around Kurt’s neck. He only grinned when Kurt whipped back around and shoved him away. “And it’s fresh too! Hummel got a little afternoon delight before he drove back into town!”

Once again, Puck was crude but not inaccurate. Sixteen-year-old Kurt Hummel had long believed that necking in the backseat of a car like a 1950s power couple at make-out point was the absolute pinnacle of steaminess. When twenty-one-year-old Kurt Hummel found himself pinned against the driver’s side door of his car for a fifth or sixth “one last kiss,” he confessed as much to Sebastian, the words spilling from his mouth to Sebastian’s ears between breathy giggles.

As it turned out, sixteen-year-old Kurt wasn’t completely stupid. Sure, necking in the backseat didn’t exactly feel steamy when the guy you were doing it with had recently had his tongue in your ass, but boy, was it good fun. Kurt could have happily whiled away hours in that cramped backseat— he missed his Navigator so freaking much. They would have had room to spare in his Nav— doing nothing more than revelling in the feel of Sebastian’s skin under his lips. They would have, if it weren’t for the fact that Kurt had mashups to sing and breadsticks to eat, and Sebastian had lectures to sit and asses to beat. (Kurt was fairly certain Sebastian wouldn’t actually beat Daniel’s ass, if only because that was not a fight Sebastian would ever win.) So it was that they parted ways reluctantly, with promises to call and make plans to see each other soon— the very first thing Sebastian had done during his hour of alone time with Kurt’s phone was add himself to Kurt’s contacts, because even when he was being creepy and invasive he was charming about it— and new marks on Kurt’s throat and clavicle (“for symmetry,” Sebastian had claimed as he unwound Kurt’s scarf).

“I’m sure you don’t know what you’re talking about either, Puckerman.”

“And normally you’d be right,” Puck agreed jovially. “But I know my hickeys. I’m a connoisseur, a master of the art.”

Kurt was about to tell Puck that they weren’t his hickeys (and thereby invite the barrage of questions/comments/criticisms he knew was forthcoming) when the clacking of heels echoing ever closer prompted him to do a headcount of the people in the room. Two very prominent figures who would have contributed to the inquisition in a big way were missing.

“Kurt, there you are! Oh my god, I was so worried. I tried contacting the authorities to report a missing person, but apparently the fact that you’re technically an adult now negates your last known whereabouts involved being close at hand to a notorious libertine! Seriously, they wouldn’t even listen when I told them you missed morning practice! Where have you been?”

There was Rachel.

“Oh my god, scrounge up one of your ratty old argyle knee highs so you can put a sock in it!” And there was Santana walking close behind, carrying a stack of sheet music. “He was clearly busy getting busy, look at him.” She dropped the stack into Rachel’s arms, leaving Rachel to squeak and almost keel forward with the sudden weight, and turned to Kurt. “A word?”

Kurt clenched his jaw but nodded once in acquiescence. He rose from his seat and exited the choir room quickly, arms and hips swinging (because he had recently been laid and his body would swing as it pleased, there was no holding it in). He pivoted around once he was back in the hallway, and this was just uncomfortably familiar.

It doesn’t matter what she has to say, Kurt thought as he crossed his arms tight, hugging himself discreetly as he waited for her to follow him out. It has been exhaustively proven that Santana Lopez doesn’t know shit. And she already passed the threshold of acceptable retribution against me for interrupting her moment the last time, so if she decides to spit more anger at me then that’s one hundred percent on her. I won’t let it touch me.

Santana closed the door behind her and marched forward, stopping with less than a foot of space between them. “Do you really think I’m a shitty friend?”

Kurt’s arms dropped to his sides as surprise overtook him. “I don’t remember saying that.”

“Twunk Timon did, and I would assume he got that from you.”

“Oh.” Kurt fidgeted with the ends of his sleeves as he turned to stare at a random flyer on the wall besides them. He really should have looked when Sebastian mentioned cussing out the group chat. “I didn’t use that exact wording, I don’t think.”

“That doesn’t sound like a no.”

Kurt turned back to look her straight in the eye. “What do you want me to say, Santana? You haven’t exactly been a good one.”

“Why, because I snapped back at you? Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”

Kurt let out a mirthless laugh. “You have never been able to take it, Santana. You are still the same girl who ran out of that room when Rachel said you’d end up on a stripper pole after you bullied her relentlessly for over two years,” he said, pointing at the door they’d come out of.

Santana’s hands balled into fists at her side, and Kurt knew that had to hurt if her nails were as sharp as usual. “That’s different,” she said, eyes flashing dangerously.

Too bad Kurt wasn’t even remotely afraid of her. He’d already been subjected to her worst. “You’re right. You were way worse to me.”

“You interrupted my proposal!”

“So snap at me for that! Yell at me for being rude and selfish because that was what I deserved. I didn’t deserve to have you start attacking every little thing about my appearance and my relationship and anything else you have ever known me to be the slightest bit insecure about. I know you get your kicks out of making people feel terrible about themselves, but were you just cataloguing weaknesses whenever I talked to you for the entire time we’ve known each other? Have we ever actually been friends at all or was I always just a place for you to crash and a person to step on?”

Santana took a step back as if she’d been slapped. “You don’t really think that, Kurt. I love you. You are family!”

“I interrupted your proposal because the idea of seeing anyone I love hurt the way I’m hurting, the way I’ve been hurting, terrifies me. And you responded by going out of your way to make me hurt some more, so excuse me for thinking the love might not be mutual.”

“No,” Santana said, shaking her head vehemently. “You know I love you. You know I love you, you know I’m your friend, and one little shit-talking session is no reason for you start talking crazy like this!”

“You seriously think that’s all that happened?” Kurt huffed out another laugh, edging on hysterical. “You haven’t been a friend to me in months. I barely heard a fucking word from you since the breakup. And at first I thought maybe you were on Blaine’s side, which I guess you kind of were since you think it was my fault for being so intolerable, but it was mostly that you just didn’t care, right? You don’t care about me.”

“Of course I care about you.”

“Then where were you?” Kurt shouted. And yeah, he had maybe slipped over into full blown hysterical mode, but his awareness of that wasn’t enough to stop him from talking. “I know Rachel can be self-centred and I know Mercedes and I aren’t as close as we used to be, but where were you, Santana? I thought you were one of my best friends but you couldn’t even bother picking up the phone when I called so you could at least talk to me! Why did you abandon me? Why did all of you abandon me?”

“No one abandoned you, Kurt,” she said quietly, like she was trying to calm a trapped animal.

“Everyone abandoned me! These last six months have been lonelier than junior year when nobody noticed what Karofsky was doing until he’d already sexually assaulted and threatened to kill me! And I wasn’t hiding any of my pain this time around. I wasn’t hiding and you just didn’t care. Nobody cared. We always say we’re all here for each other, and I try so hard to be there whenever anyone needs me, but no one was willing to do the same for me.” Kurt scrubbed furiously at the tears leaking out the corners of his eyes. “Am I really so difficult to deal with that I can’t even get a fucking hug once in a while?”

Santana stepped forward and yanked Kurt into a tight embrace, tucking his head into the crook of her neck.

Kurt pressed his face into her shoulder and sobbed.

“I’m sorry,” Santana murmured, one hand scratching lightly at Kurt’s scalp while the other rubbed up and down his back until his breaths evened out. He tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t release him from her hold and she was very strong, so he stayed where he was. “I’m here now, okay? I’m here and Britt is here and we’re here for you. So you can vent and cry and talk as much as you need. And you can watch us be hashtag relationship goals as a reminder that it can be done in real life, even if most people aren’t on our level.”

Kurt laughed, watery but genuine, and hugged back. “I’ve missed you so much, Tana.”

“Yeah, I kind of got that.” They hugged a few moments more before she took a step back to look over Kurt’s face and made a noise of disapproval. “Come on, let’s try to flush the cry splotches out of your face,” Santana said, linking their arms together.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your proposal,” Kurt apologized as they made their way into the girls washroom.

“It’s okay, so long as you don’t interrupt the wedding.” Santana shoved him into the (now obsolete) slushie seat and set to work dampening paper towels with icy water.

“Oh god, no!” Kurt winced as she set the cold paper on his hot skin. “If I ever hit that level of trashy, I give you full permission to slap the bitch out of me.”

Santana chortled. “Not even the hand of God could slap the bitch out of you, Twinkle Tush.” She lifted the paper towels and nodded in approval, moving back to let him stand up again as she tossed the towels. Santana reached into her bosom and pulled out a tin of rosebud salve, handing it to Kurt. (Kurt would forever be impressed and mystified at how she used her boobs for storage without disturbing how they sat in her dress. He couldn’t even put a tenner in his pants pocket when he wore skinny jeans without ruining the clean lines of his silhouette.) “Is my dress gonna stain from all the saltwater you subjected it to?”

“It’s made of rayon and spandex,” he said as he applied the moisturizer and handed it back. “You’ll be fine.”

“We should go shopping this weekend. So you can buy me a replacement just in case,” she decided as she put her tin away and they both stepped back out into the hallway. The statement was clear Santanese for ‘we are spending time together this weekend, but I don’t want to sound treacly about it,’ and Kurt really had missed her so much. “I can’t believe Preppy Douche-bler Part Deux was right.”

“Right about what?” Kurt asked as he stooped down at the water fountain— hydration was essential after a screaming and/or crying session. “He told me he texted the group while I was asleep, but I didn’t check to see what he said.”

“I thought you were just being petty for the hell of it at this point, which, y’know, is normally something I would encourage,” Santana said with a shrug. “I’m so used to watching you pull yourself up by the bootstraps, I didn’t even consider that maybe this time you need a little help.”

That didn’t really answer the question, but Santana had clearly said all she felt there was to say. She elbowed Kurt out of the way so she could take a drink, and Kurt pulled out his phone so he could read whatever the hell Sebastian had written.

#squad 🎵💝💩 From: Me

Ok look I’m working with one hand here so I’m gon keep this short u r all stupid. n awful but mostly fucking stupid??? ur friend ends the first n longest rlshp of his LIFE but u guys r up his ass about how he needs to get over it already bc he’s annoying YOU by still being sad. As if any of u fuckers did the slightest to help him out while the wound was gaping open. Funny how easy it was for u all to txt him last night considering how his summer went. Lmao maybe if u had done it back then he’d b in a better place now? Just a thought. I kno u guys aren’t too good with those. anyway, I have been in his ass n I can tell u there isn’t enuf room for u all. Pls crawl out. OH and also blind. I forgot to mention that ur all blind. U gotta be blind if u think anyone who looks like Kurt Hummel is ever gonna be single for a second longer than he wants to be. As the only dude who likes dudes up in this bitch rn (tho some of u are suspect) I can tell u fuckwads that he just needs to go out and he’s good. Like his options r narrowed compared to NY but he’s good. He walks into a gay space and walks out with AT LEAST 2 ppl wanting his #. Funny how u think Kurt is the desperate one for going out to a club so he can let off some steam after dealing with u TWATS when Bland got dumped and immediately hooked up with a dude semi infamous in certain circles for having been obsessed w Kurt when we were all younger. in summation: u guys are stupid blind assholes. I am an asshole of the first degree but at least I’m not a shitty friend. U don’t even have that going for you. Super sad. 👋🏻

Kurt smiled so hard his cheeks were already starting to sting and he had to twirl where he stood just to get some of the emotion out of him. Thank god they were going to be singing soon! He held his phone to his chest with both palms folded over it as he waited for his heart to stop going pitter-patter.

“You get off on the weirdest shit,” Santana said, regarding him with crossed arms, a raised eyebrow, and lips pursed in a failed attempt to hide her amusement.

“I’m not getting off on this, I’m swooning,” Kurt insisted as he rattled off a quick text to Sebastian. “There is a universe of difference between the two!”

To: Sebastian Smythe

If you had led off your confession of dickishness in my car by showing me the rant instead of the selfie, I probably would have blown your whistle right there in the front seat.

(There was not a universe of difference between the two.)

“I can’t believe you’re swooning over Sebastian Smythe. Are you guys, like, a thing now?”

“We’re going on a date next week,” Kurt admitted, giddy smile not fading in the least.

“Best believe we’re gonna be discussing this.” She shook her head and uncrossed her arms. “Later though. Berry and I arranged one kick ass mashup that is bizarrely fitting for the occasion, and the three of us are sharing lead, so we gots harmonies to go over together.”

From: Sebastian Smythe

BRB, switching majors to physics so I can figure time travel out.

From: Sebastian Smythe

Daniel is stealing my phone because he doesn’t appreciate me ~sexting~ during class time. You gotta help me help him with this prudery, you were an expert for a while there! Talk to you soon 😘

“Oh yeah?” Kurt slid his phone back into his pocket and held his arm out for her. “Thank you for your generosity, future Mrs. Lopez-Pierce.”

Santana tightened the hand clutching his bicep and breathed sharply. “Say that again,” she demanded, joy bubbling out of her.

“Mrs. Lopez-Pierce,” Kurt said, enunciating every syllable for her. He still got a twinge of fear on her behalf that one day her joy would just vanish away, but it was a lot easier to ignore it now, and just hold on to hope that things would work out better for her and Brittany than they did for him and Blaine.

“That sounds so good,” Santana said, sounding more than a little swoon-y herself. “Let’s get this week’s lesson over with so everyone can say it some more while we get our Breadstix on.”

Kurt opened the choir room door and let Santana through first. “I’m surprised no one is shaming me for consorting with the enemy,” he whispered as they nudged their way into the practice circle, not wanting to interrupt Quinn and Tina as they worked on their harmonies— they sounded great together, wow, how had they never made use of that before? “Maybe after practice is over?”

“I’m pretty sure they all still feel kind of guilty after your new boy toy dragged us, but if anyone does give you shit, I’m on your side,” she whispered back. “Besides,” she continued, voice picking up so everyone could listen, “I don’t give a flying fuck what a rat bastard he was three years ago. If he can keep you as glowed up as you are right now, then that’s the only thing that should matter to any of us.” She sent a warning glare to everyone before stepping into Brittany’s side and resting her head on her fiancée’s shoulder.

Kurt grinned and gave her a firm side hug before Rachel thrust a copy of the sheet music into each of their hands, already colour coded with their parts, from where she stood at Kurt’s other side.

This, this right here was what he had needed since yesterday. Since six months ago. He had his friends beside him, and not just physically. He had a song to sing. He had a spring in his step and hope in his heart and a chance to try to keep it.

Rehearsal went smoothly, and Rachel shot off a text to the New(er) New Directions to meet in the auditorium. The Old New Directions headed over together, and Santana knocked a shoulder against Kurt’s as she walked hand in hand with Brittany. “Yesterday is never going to happen again, I’ve decided. From now on this,” she gestured between the two of them, “is a supportive zone. We’ve got weddings and hot dates to plan and we’re gonna need each other for that.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Kurt grabbed her free hand and gave it a squeeze. Sometimes Santana Lopez did know shit.

With their meals finished, tray pushed aside, Sebastian reached into his backpack for a pack of mints. He shook one out for himself and tossed it into his mouth, then grabbed Kurt’s wrist, turned his palm up, and shook another one out for Kurt.

Kurt rolled the mint between his fingers with a faint smile on his face before he popped it in his mouth. “Do you remember last night, how you said that being nice still isn’t natural for you?”

“I do recall.”

“I think you’re a lot kinder than you give yourself credit for.”

“Because I gave you an Ice Breaker?” Sebastian squinted at Kurt. “They’re like three cents each. And I mean, I plan to be kissing you, so…” He grinned impishly before ducking down to do exactly that.

Kurt let their lips meet but pulled away before tongues got involved and he lost his train of thought. “You’ve done a lot more than give me a mint since we ran into each other again to indicate that you are secretly a Good Person.”

“I can hear you capitalizing, y’know. But…” Sebastian slipped the pads of his index and middle fingers under the scarf around Kurt’s neck so he could press down on the hickey they both knew was there. “I’ll bite.”

“Douche,” Kurt muttered, batting Sebastian’s hand away when he felt his own heartbeat speed up.

“Am I a douche or am I a Good Person? I’m getting mixed signals here,” Sebastian teased, relaxing back into the booth and throwing an arm over the back of the seat.

“They’re not mutually exclusive!” Kurt slouched sideways and rested his head on Sebastian’s arm. “I’m a bitch and a half, but I like to think that I’m a Good Person despite that.”

“Oh please,” Sebastian scoffed. “I did my research after I met you. Your saintliness is the stuff of legends. You’re literally the best person I know and I know you know it too, so don’t go fishing for compliments.”

“See?” Kurt laid a palm over Sebastian leg, right above the knee, and jostled his leg excitedly. “Telling someone that he’s great is nice.”

“That wasn’t nice,” Sebastian argued with an eye roll. “It was just a statement of fact!”

“How about the fact that you literally adopted not one, but two forlorn gay youths? Don’t think I didn’t make that connection.”

“That’s… Lonely people try to kill themselves.”

Kurt inhaled sharply, tightening his grasp on Sebastian’s thigh.

“Ow!” Sebastian tugged on the hand until Kurt relaxed his grip. “Babe, chill. Don’t go angsty on me. I’m not saying that either of them would. They were both perfectly happy and well-adjusted and getting by fine without me, I didn't pull anyone off the ledge or whatever you’re thinking. It’s just that I felt really guilty after the whole thing with Dave—”

“That was not your fault! I know we all did him wrong, but we all put our big boy pants on afterwards and did what we could to make things right again. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but the bigots who harassed him, so please don’t tell me you’re still beating yourself up over some stupid shit you did in high school when the person you did it to already forgave you.”

“I’m not!” Sebastian used his free hand to pinch Kurt’s lips together. “No more interrupting,” he ordered before letting go and dropping his hand back to his side. “It was pretty much the first time I remember feeling guilty about anything, which I know is fucked up since I had temporarily blinded a guy a few weeks before that, but I am who I am. I just don’t wanna feel guilty like that again. And if I left perfectly serviceable guys floundering in their social ineptitude then I would feel guilty, knowing where that could lead.”

Kurt waited a beat for Sebastian to say anything more before he responded. “Bastian, sweetie, I think social ineptitude might be a tad bit strong.”

“Look, I know sex isn’t everything, but a guy needs to know how to talk to another guy. They could make friends okay, but the lack of game was just astounding.”

Kurt spluttered out a shocked laugh. “You tried to proposition a virgin!”

“Daniel seriously told you that too?” Sebastian groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face. “I swear to god I’m beating his ass when I see him.”

“No, you won’t,” Kurt said, letting out a few last giggles before calming down. “That would make you feel guilty because you’re a Good Person.”

“It’s nice that you think that, but I’m really not,” Sebastian insisted. “Every good thing I do is self-serving. It’s not that I don’t wanna feel guilty because guilt is an indicator that I did something bad to someone else. I don’t want to feel guilty because it fucks up with my head.”

Kurt scrunched his nose in confusion. “Then how about the kindness and caring you’ve shown me, Sebastian? Because as much as you shrug it off when I say thank you, you’ve been pretty freaking amazing.”

Sebastian tensed for a moment— Kurt couldn’t see it on his face, but he could feel it in the muscles of the arm under his head— before affecting casualness. “No, no, that was self-serving too.”

“I don’t really see how being nice to me benefitted you.”

“Well, you see, I figured the more you enjoyed yourself with me last night slash today, the more amenable you would be to repeating the experience.”

Even without fully understanding what Sebastian meant, Kurt wanted to say yes right off the bat. But he refrained because, as wonderful as last night slash today had been, he needed to know what exactly he was saying yes to. He sat up slowly, folded one leg under him, and turned his body to face Sebastian fully. “Which part of the experience?”

“Any of it would be welcome, but all of it would be ideal. The talking and the kissing and the sex and the cuddling and the hand holding and just hanging out with you in general, that was all some good shit. If we could keep doing all of that on the regular, that’d be super.”

“That’s— you realize that what you’re suggesting is what normal people would call dating.”

“I’m aware, yeah. I would also call it dating.”

Sebastian Smythe wants to date me. I’m not sure whether it’s the Sebastian or the date or the me of it all that’s surprising me most. Wait, no, that’s a lie. It’s definitely the date part.

“I don’t really understand.”

“What is there not to understand?”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m really surprised you want to date. I kinda figured that you would try for fuckbuddies, if anything.”

“Fuckbuddies only works if there’s geographical proximity but no deep attraction. You don’t fit the bill for that at all.” Sebastian dropped his arm from the top of the booth so he could tap out a staccato rhythm on the seat. “Look, I’m not gonna give you some grand, romantic speech here, Kurt. You’re sweet and smart and funny; you keep me on my toes and look stupid beautiful doing it. People like you are hard to come by, so I’d be a fucking idiot to not try and hold on to you for as long as I can. I’m just doing the sensible thing here.”

Grand, romantic speeches were what Kurt was used to. He was used to talk of soulmates and forever and eternal love. And those speeches had been catnip to him when he was a teenager, the stuff of movies and storybooks turning his life into one. This straight shooting was new for him, but it was a pleasant change. It felt… more authentic, more substantial. He liked it a lot.

He liked Sebastian a lot. He liked Sebastian’s sharp wit and blunt speech, his capacity for goodness that was so much greater than he was willing to admit. He liked how naturally they fell into sync, the way they could banter as easy as breathing.

Kurt knew that one day the hurt he was feeling about Blaine wouldn’t be there anymore— wait, actually, when had that revelation snuck in there? Because even as recently as yesterday, he didn’t consider eventually moving on a certainty, only a distant hope. But yes, one day he would be completely over the fact that his first go at a relationship had crumbled in his hands. One day, when his heart and mind were clear, he and Sebastian could be really spectacular together, and he’d be a fucking idiot to throw that chance away. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that he wasn’t there yet.

“Sebastian,” he began. Kurt could see the resignation clouding his face, so he stopped to grab Sebastian’s hands in his own and squeeze. “I don’t want for you to be a rebound. I’m so sorry.”

“I would be okay with being a rebound. I knew it was a distinct possibility when I brought this up.”

“I wouldn’t be okay with that though. I’ve done that to a guy before and he deserved so much better. You deserve so much better.”

“And that’s the only thing stopping you?”

“Well, yeah. It’s kind of a big thing, Bas.”

“I know it is, but— here, hold on a sec.” He extricated his hands from Kurt’s hold and twisted around to his backpack long enough to pull out a spiral-bound notebook and a pen, slapping them down on the table. “Have you ever heard the theory that it takes half the length of a relationship to recover from a breakup?”

“Sebastian Smythe, do you watch Sex and the City?” Kurt couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice.

“What?” Sebastian looked up from where he was flipping the notebook to a clean page. “No, I got that from How I Met Your Mother.”

“Well, they got that from Sex and the City.”

“If you say so, babe,” Sebastian said, setting the notebook down in front of them and uncapping his pen. “But anyway, Lily and Marshall were obviously the only ones who had any idea what they were doing with their love lives— or else Robin and Barney would have stayed married forever and she never would have ended up with Ted— so only their rules for how long it takes to move past a breakup are worth taking into consideration: ‘half the length of your relationship’ or ‘one week for every month you were together.’”

“Okay?”

“So since I’m probably better at math than you, I’m gonna apply both methods of calculation to your relationship and see how long it’s gonna take for you to get over your breakup so that I’m not a rebound anymore.”

“What makes you so sure you’re better at math than me?” He almost certainly was, because that had always been Kurt’s worst subject in school, but still.

“Studying some artsy shit,” Sebastian said, pointing his pen at Kurt. “Studying actual real life shit that sometimes requires math,” he continued, pointing at himself.

“I’m pretty sure I could still handle basic addition and division,” Kurt grumbled.

“You sure could, but I’m still doing it for you. Consider it more self-serving niceness,” Sebastian told him with a grin. He bent down to lay a quick, off-centre, almost absentminded kiss to Kurt’s lips (and god, unlimited kissing was a hell of an incentive to throw caution and both their hearts to the wind and just go for it with Sebastian). “Now, you guys were pretty messy for a while there, so give me dates for when you got together and broke up… and got together again and broke up again.”

Kurt was pretty sure it was generally frowned upon to talk about old relationships with (potential) new ones, but Sebastian’s eyes were steely with determination. “Um, our first kiss was March fifteen. That was my junior year, so 2011?”

“You got together on the Ides of March,” Sebastian noted as he wrote the date down. “Should’ve seen the clusterfuck coming,” he snickered.

“If you think you’re the first person in the world to have made that joke, you’re wrong.”

“The joke makes itself!”

Kurt couldn’t argue him on that one. “We broke up early October, in 2012. Then we got back together in the middle of May the next year.” He waited until Sebastian was done scribbling to amend, “I hooked up with him on Valentine’s Day though, if you think that should factor in.”

“Ugh!” Sebastian looked up from his paper to frown at Kurt in a way that was distinctly judge-y. “Kurt.”

“I know,” Kurt whined. “It was a wedding! People hook up at weddings. It was honestly just meaningless sex between friends on my end of things.”

“You don’t hook up with the ex who cheated on you ever! Or with anyone you know is moony-eyed over you. This is basic stuff, Kurt.”

“Thank you for educating me on hook-up etiquette. This is absolutely invaluable knowledge,” Kurt deadpanned. “And then we broke up again at the end of March, and here I am.”

Sebastian blinked at his paper. “I’m making a timeline,” he muttered, turning the notebook lengthwise.

This is actually very sweet of him, Kurt mused as he watched Sebastian work silently, in a nerdy accountant kind of way. I’ve had ballads out the wazoo but a boy doing math— the grossest, most terrible of all disciplines in academia— to persuade me to take our relationship to a new level? This is definitely different.

“Okay, so by the Marshall method you should be over it already… which clearly didn’t work out for you. But, according to Lily, you’ve got three months of hurting left, and then we’re in the clear to meet up again.” His shoulders drooped before he squared them again. “That’s fine. I’m willing to wait three months if you are.”

Three months? That couldn’t be right. Yesterday, Kurt would have said that sounded too short a time. But then again, yesterday, Kurt would have contended that he was never getting over Blaine, because yesterday, Kurt would have contended they were only on hiatus. Today it sounded like way too long. Today, the sun was shining down on him and he couldn’t find that cloud of despair inside himself anymore. At some point over the last twenty-four hours or so, happiness had crept up on him. And happiness had been dearly missed, so that cloud of despair could just fuck off and stay lost forever.

“You know what? This is stupid,” Kurt decided, picking Sebastian’s notebook up and closing it. “People are too complicated for a metric to tell me when I’m going to be over it, and this one won’t be accurate anyway because it doesn’t take into account one very important fact: I’m. Kurt. Hummel. I am exceptionally resilient, and the only reason I haven’t bounced back already is because I’ve been wallowing. I’ve been half-assing any effort I make at recovery because the sixteen-year-old in me keeps blathering on about how I only get one true love and I have to stick with it forever, and I keep listening to him. Sixteen-year-old Kurt had a crush on a straight jock who ended up his stepbrother, so what the fuck does he know?”

“Sixteen-year-olds are, in general, stupid.”

“Exactly! I’m a Hummel and no one pushes me around, not even my younger self. In one night slash morning—” Kurt paused to pull out his phone and look at the time, “— slash afternoon, I have experienced more joy than I have in the last six months, and that’s because of you. I’m not waiting another three to repeat the experience just because there’s a voice in my head telling me that seeing someone new makes me a quitter.”

Sebastian looked like he wanted to smile, but he managed to tamp it down. “You can’t just will yourself into being over him because of impatience, babe.”

“You underestimate the strength of my will, babe.” Kurt tugged Sebastian’s hands back into his lap and indulged in the sight of how good they looked together. “You’re right that I’m probably overestimating how easily I can be ready to move on, but I need you to understand just how hard I’m going to try. And just how much I like you.”

“A whole heck of a lot, right?”

“Yeah, a whole heck of a lot,” Kurt agreed. He lifted his gaze to look Sebastian in the eye. “How about this? We hold off on the sex part of the experience until my emotional wounds are all healed up, and when I’m one hundred percent sure that I’m not smarting over the breakup anymore, we put that back on the table.” Kurt cocked his head and put on a joking simper. “Assuming the pleasure of my company is enough of a draw on its own, of course.”

“Of course it is.” Sebastian did smile then. Sebastian beamed, and honestly, he had some gall to ever suggest Kurt wait three fucking months before getting the chance to make him smile like that again. “I still get to kiss you though, right?”

“I insist on it.”

“Well, if you insist.” Sebastian squeezed Kurt’s fingers where they were slotted in between his own before tilting down to mould their lips together.

As soon as they were parked in front of a campus eatery and their seatbelts were unfastened, Sebastian pulled him back into another kiss. Kurt didn’t need to keep his foot on the brake anymore, so he had no qualms about crawling over the console and into Sebastian’s lap when he felt hands at his waist tugging insistently. This would be a friendly lunch where they occasionally stopped to make out, apparently. That was more than fine with Kurt.

Then Kurt suddenly remembered where exactly they were, so he pulled away to open Sebastian’s door and spilled out onto the sidewalk. He rested his hands on the hood of his car and waited for the cool air to calm his heartbeat (and his libido).

Sebastian stepped out after him, leaning against the open doorframe. “What did my lips distract you from this time?”

“The fact that we’re in public in Ohio.”

“Kurt…” Sebastian sighed heavily and straightened up his posture. Then his lips quirked up at the corner. He cleared his throat. Oh god, no, what is he about to— “I did not self-administer an anal douche,” Sebastian announced to the world at large, loud and clear for anyone in the lot (or on the street) to hear, “just to attend a school where I am made to feel unsafe if I express affection towards a same gender partner!”

The world at large was unmoved by his declaration. Not one soul walking by even paused in their stride. A girl with hair dyed the same shade of scarlet as her school sweatshirt muttered a ‘hell yeah’ at them as she passed, but that was about it. No glares or jeers or menace like Kurt would have expected.

Kurt blushed red as a beet. “I don’t like you,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his shoulder.

“Fun,” Sebastian said as he stuck his head back in the car. He came back out with his backpack and Kurt’s keys, shutting the door closed and locking up before stuffing the keys in Kurt’s front pocket. “I don’t like you either,” he drawled, patting over Kurt’s hip.

Kurt chuckled at the memory of their younger selves and grabbed Sebastian’s hand, automatically swivelling around to make sure no one was about to give them any flack for the action. “I actually like you a whole heck of a lot.” He winced and bit his lip when he realized what had just come out of his mouth— he sounded like a freaking seventh grader or something— but made no attempt to backtrack, because it was the truth. He didn’t know when it had crept up on him, and he didn’t know what, if anything, to do with the knowledge, but he genuinely liked Sebastian as a human being and there was no point in trying to take it back after Kurt had already told him as much.

“Well, who wouldn’t?” Sebastian grinned and swung their arms together obnoxiously.  “I like you a whole heck of a lot too,” he said, only slightly teasing, as he tugged Kurt inside.

Kurt luxuriated in the fizzy feeling in his stomach brought about by Sebastian’s words before he looked around the cafeteria layout in confusion. “How does this work?”

Sebastian disentangled his hand from Kurt’s to grab at either side of his waist and guide him towards a low, narrow, curving ramp a few feet to the side of the entrance. “Do they not have dining halls at NYADA?”

“No, we have a coffee shop in our student commons, but that’s it. If you added up my school’s entire student body and faculty, we’d still have less than four hundred people. And maybe a quarter of our population is in student housing, so they get a kitchen space, but other than that we all fend for ourselves. They like to say that being in the heart of the city, minutes from any kind of restaurant imaginable, is part of the NYADA’s charm.” Kurt looked over his shoulder to catch Sebastian’s eye. “I’m pretty sure the school just doesn’t have the space or the customer base and they wanna sound fancy.”

“Ah, one thing Ohio has never lacked is plenty of space.” They hit the top of the ramp and Sebastian gestured expansively. “Grab what you like and I charge it to my meal plan, we grab a spot and eat, not a difficult concept.”

“You paid for us yesterday, Sebastian. I can cover it this time.”

“You don’t have a meal plan to charge it to,” Sebastian said matter-of-factly. He grabbed a tray and started loading it up.

“I’m doubtful they don’t accept cash.”

“And also, I ended up spending way more on my meal plan than I needed last year, and I’m pretty sure I did it again this year, so I’m trying to buy food for anyone who’ll take it so I don’t embarrass myself.”

Kurt was pretty sure Sebastian was just talking out his ass, but that wasn’t exactly new for him, and this was very benign ass-talking, so he’d let it go. He pulled a bottled smoothie out of the glass-doored fridge in the corner and plunked it down on Sebastian’s tray along with a bag of mixed nuts. “Thank you, Bastian.” He pecked him on the cheek and glanced around for angry onlookers by habit. Still none.

Sebastian accepted the kiss easily, but looked at him with a cocked eyebrow. “Are you eating this little because you don’t want me spending money on you?”

“I have never been one to feel compunction about letting a beautiful man of means buy me something nice, thank you very much,” Kurt said with his nose stuck up in the air. “Today’s our last practice before the visiting alumni head home, so we’re gonna have a farewell dinner at Breadstix where we all eat way too much and hate ourselves in the morning. I need an empty stomach going in, you know how it is.”

“Breadstix? Is that some kind of buffet place or something?”

Kurt gasped loudly and stared at him with wide eyes. “You’ve never heard of Breadstix?”

“I clearly have not.”

“It’s like this terrible Olive Garden knock-off. I can’t believe you’ve been to the Lima Bean and freaking Scandals but you’ve never been to Breadstix! You’re not really from this part of Ohio unless you’ve been to Breadstix. You are missing out on an experience pivotal to our cultural identity.”

“So it’s terrible… but you still go there, and you’re outraged that I have never been.” He moved over to the register and let the cashier ring up his meal. “I bet you anything that this a Lima-specific thing. This feels like Lima brand strangeness.”

“Anything? That’s a dangerous thing to offer,” Kurt teased.

“Anything.”

“Challenge accepted.” Kurt scanned the people surrounding them before he turned to the guy at the next register over and tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, hi, are you from the area?”

He looked confused at being spoken to so abruptly, but shrugged and wiggled his hand. “Ish. Mansfield, about an hour out.”

“Have you ever been to this Italian restaurant called Breadstix? It’s in Lima.”

“Ugh, I fucking hate that place.” He made a face of disgust and shook his head. “And I still go at least twice a year.” He grabbed his tray and walked down the exit ramp, muttering about endless breadsticks that tasted like cardboard.

Kurt turned back to Sebastian with a victorious smile on his face.

“I feel like I’m the one who won just by virtue of never having visited this Breadstix you speak of.” Sebastian picked up his tray and started down the ramp.

“No, no, I definitely win.” Kurt fell into pace with him as easy as breathing, and they slid into a booth by a window in the corner. He had planned to say something about being a very graceful winner, but then the clouds parted and the midday sunlight streamed down on Sebastian’s face, illuminating the freckles on his nose and making his eyes look extra green. The sight left Kurt a little sidetracked.

“Fine, I concede defeat.” He smiled so bright it put the sun outside to shame and Kurt was totally gone. “Pick your prize, Hummel.”

Kurt cupped the back of Sebastian’s neck and guided him down so their lips could meet for a proper kiss, heedless of the lunch crowd still filling the hall. The world kind of faded to a quiet buzz when he did.

“That’s a waste of an open-stakes bet,” Sebastian murmured against his lips as he pulled away.

“Huh?” Kurt blinked slowly, feeling a little dazed.

“You could have said you wanted an apartment in SoHo or something. I would have kissed you for free.”

“Oh, no, that wasn’t me collecting. I’m gonna need a little time before I decide what I want out of you.” Kurt shrugged. “You just looked really handsome is all.”

Sebastian smiled again, and he needed to stop that or Kurt would end up crawling into his lap again and looking trashy. “I always look really handsome though. By that logic you should constantly be making out with me.”

“If I did, when would we speak?” He stole a fry off Sebastian’s plate and popped it in his mouth before unscrewing his smoothie bottle. “Or eat?”

“I do enjoy eating,” Sebastian agreed. He pulled his food closer and knocked his knee against Kurt’s lightly. “And talking to you, I guess.”

“You’d better!” Kurt smiled and returned the leg nudge. “Now, talk to me about the class that dragged your ass out to school on a Friday. Philosophy, right?”

“This feels familiar,” Kurt noted. He looked down at the hand slapped over his ignition and then back at Sebastian. “I’ve been driving since I was twelve,” Kurt informed him with a proud smile. “So you have no cause for concern.”

“I’m a little concerned by that,” Sebastian said with a furrowed brow, “but we can leave that little tidbit for another occasion.” He exhaled heavily and dropped his head back onto the headrest behind him, bouncing a little with the force of his movement. “I did something kind of dickish.”

Kurt stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Sebastian sighed again, then leaned over and shoved his hand into Kurt’s pants pocket. Kurt didn’t even flinch at the invasion of his personal space. Not like he hasn’t had his hands in this vicinity already. Sebastian’s hand closed around his phone, and Kurt lifted his hips up so it could slide out easier. He fiddled with it before handing it to Kurt silently.

From: Quinn FABray 👸🏼💇🏼📣🎓

He’s cute! I approve.

To: Quinn FABray 👸🏼💇🏼📣🎓

I’m cuter.

Attached was a selfie of Sebastian, a smug grin clear on his face. Also clear was the fact that he was shirtless. Also clear was the fact that he was shirtless in bed. Also clear was the fact that he was shirtless in bed cuddled up with another shirtless man who happened to have thick, chestnut brown hair and a single line of black text tattooed on the pale skin of his upper right back.

Kurt didn’t need to read anymore. He dropped his phone into the cupholder beside him and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “You dick.”

“I know. I cussed your friends out in your group chat too, if you want to look at that.”

“I do not.” Kurt let out a whooshing breath, then straightened up and put his seatbelt on. “Lunch was going to be on me, but now you can just forget it.”

Sebastian nodded heavily. “I figured as much.” He reached into the backseat for his bag and Kurt realized he had done that thing again where he accidentally sent a cute boy packing. Though Sebastian clearly did not need any reminding that he was cute.

“Sit back down, we’re still going!” Kurt grabbed the hem of Sebastian’s t-shirt and tugged him until he was back in his seat.

“But you just said I can forget it.”

“Yeah, as in you can forget about me buying you lunch. I’m not saying no to lunch altogether because of this.”

“So you’re not mad?”

“No, I’m mad at you.”

“Then don’t subject yourself to dealing with my mug for another hour, Kurt,” he said, though he didn’t look or sound happy to say it. “It’s cool.” He started reaching into the backseat for his backpack again.

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Kurt unclicked his seatbelt and got up on his knees so he could grab Sebastian by the shoulders. He pulled and shoved Sebastian back into the passenger seat, then strapped Sebastian’s seatbelt in to keep him in place. “I like your mug! I don’t like what your mug did, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to deal with it.”

“Why would you voluntarily spend time with someone you’re pissed at, you masochistic weirdo?”

“Because I’m not that pissed, you bratty douchebag!”

Sebastian scrutinized him for a moment, then shook his head and smiled. “You’re really okay with it.”

“Mmm, I wouldn’t be saying okay just yet, mister.” Kurt poked his arm in warning. “You were rude and disrespectful and I don’t appreciate anyone going through my phone and texting my friends about things that aren’t their business without my permission. But,” Kurt stopped speaking for a dramatic pause. He faced forward and fastened his seatbelt before continuing, “I do appreciate you admitting your dickishness instead of leaving me to find out about it on my own when I get mobbed by my beloved clucking hens.”

“I figured if you checked your texts on the road and found out that way, you’d push me out the car so you could run me over.”

“And jack up my insurance rates? Never.” Kurt turned on his ignition and readjusted his settings. “Even if I did text and drive, which I do not and which you most definitely should not do either, I don’t think this was a vehicular manslaughter level transgression. It’s really not that big of a deal, Sebastian,” he said, reaching over to squeeze Sebastian’s knee before putting the car in drive. “I can’t hold a grudge to save my life, so I’m pretty much over it already. Don’t worry about it.”

“Seriously? Kurt, your friends all know you slept with me! I can’t believe you’re not throwing me murder face right now. I’m super happy you’re not, don’t get me wrong, but it’s freaking me out.”

“Well, it’s not like they were never gonna find out! I would have liked to tell them myself, but you and that chip on your shoulder just couldn't help yourself.” He sent a sharp glare Sebastian’s way, before scrunching his nose with a silly smile and turning back to the windshield.

Kurt paused in front of the gate as it swung open for them automatically, and glanced over again to see Sebastian staring at him with wide eyes. “You would have told them?”

“Of course I would have told them,” Kurt said as he rolled through the exit, a little confused at Sebastian’s clear surprise. “I’m a single, consenting adult. You’re a single—” He felt his body stiffen, but he forced his voice to stay light. “You are, right?”

“Yes, I’m single. Even when I was fine with enabling cheating, I wasn’t fine with doing it myself. I just want to make that clear.”

“Okay, well, people only refuse to kiss and tell if it’s someone they shouldn't be kissing or the kiss was no good. We are both single, consenting adults who had what I thought was a pretty great time last night, and I’m not even talking about just the sex. Why would I keep it a secret?”

“Because you had a great time with me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m the asshole who tried to sabotage your team’s setlist and blackmailed you guys and just… sleeping with me isn’t exactly something to brag about. I wouldn’t have taken it personally if I was a secret you took to your grave.”

“In the immortal words of the endlessly wise Taylor Swift, who you are is not what you did.” He stopped at a red light and turned to look Sebastian in the eye. “You are not a dirty little secret, Sebastian Smythe. Not for me.”

Fondness was not a strong enough word for the look on Sebastian’s face. He yanked the diagonal strap of his seatbelt out of the way so it was behind him, leaned over the console, and cupped Kurt’s cheeks in his hands for a kiss. Kurt’s hands left the wheel so he could lay them over Sebastian’s, sliding down to rub circles into Sebastian’s inner wrists.

They only pulled away from each other when the truck behind them leaned on the horn, and Kurt was glad for the hold he had around Sebastian’s wrist because otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to smack it down before Sebastian had the chance to flip the guy off. He turned his attention back to the road and released the brake. “No more kissing me until we’re parked,” Kurt decided. “Your lips are too distracting.”

Back in the early days of Klaine: Sexually Active (But Not That Sexually Active) Edition, while they were both living at home and their parents had erratic schedules that would take them in and out of the city on short notice, there had been a few occasions where Kurt would find himself suddenly spending the night at Blaine’s house. They wouldn’t have sex every time; it was just nice to have a cuddle buddy while sleeping. On every such occasion, Kurt would find himself wearing a pair of pyjama pants that were full length on his boyfriend but fit Kurt like capris. He hated them with a passion, not least because they rode up to places only lovers and doctors had the right to be, but Blaine insisted there would be hell to pay if he borrowed an old pair from Cooper’s room, despite the fact that Cooper didn’t live there anymore and would never know. Then lo and behold, the one time Kurt stayed over while Cooper was in town, brother dearest offered a pair himself. He’d scolded Blaine for not loaning clothes from Cooper’s closet from day one, actually, because ‘you’re going to cut off circulation to his thighs, Blainers! And those thighs would be dearly missed.’ Kurt never figured out why exactly Blaine had never even bothered to actually ask his brother if it would be okay to borrow clothes every once in a while, but it still stung a little, now that he was thinking about it again.

The boy who sincerely considered me the love of his life and had every intention to marry me one day couldn’t or wouldn’t make that one ridiculously minor effort to ensure my comfort— even though I always dug out stuff from before my growth spurt for him. And the guy who used to be my nemesis, who I’m going out for a friendly lunch with after we shared a casual fuck, didn’t hesitate to turn his closet upside down on a quest to find one particular pair of track pants that he thinks I’ll like better than the other perfectly good track pants he owns. When in the world did Sebastian Smythe become a bona fide sweetheart?

“Sebastian, you really don’t need to go to this trouble,” Kurt protested for the third time as he restored the walk-in to neatness (better than neatness, since Kurt reflexively organized by degree of formality, texture, and colour, whereas Sebastian had just… folded things and put them away, like an animal). “I won’t break out into hives if I wear Abercrombie just this once.”

“Kurt, you will honestly be doing me a favour if you wear these stupid pants. God knows I never will,” Sebastian told him as he hunted through another drawer in his dresser. “The only reason I haven’t thrown them away already is because I’d feel guilty about trashing a gift from my grandma.”

“The same grandma who keeps getting you scarves?” Kurt took a step back to admire his work and fiddled with the ends of the (probably meant for women, possibly designer, certainly lovely) silk scarf tied around his neck. He was fully dressed except for the lack of pants, and Kurt thought that maybe he shouldn’t have felt perfectly comfortable in Sebastian’s company in such a state of dress when they wouldn’t be having sex any time soon.

“Yeah, I think she figured when she got a gay grandson that I would automatically dress like… well, you. She’s gotten better about, but she still has a tendency to go shopping and buy clothes she wishes I would wear rather than anything I’d actually like.”

Kurt came out of the closet— again (ha! No matter how many times he made that joke in his head, it would always put a smile on his face)— and plopped down on the bed, bouncing lightly as he watched Sebastian rummage. “She’s trying to force fashion into your life, Bastian. It’s a noble cause.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “I suppose positive change only comes to those who want it.”

Sebastian snorted, then made a sound of victory. He turned around, elbowed his drawer shut, and tossed a bundle of black fleece towards Kurt’s face. He had very good aim.

The bundle slid down from Kurt’s face to his lap, unfurling as it fell. Kurt gasped as he recognized the subtle floral print spread over the black jersey. “Sebastian,” Kurt said, voice hushed as he ran a finger reverently over the edge of one shiny leaf. “This is Versace.”

“Like the Drake song?”

“He was only a feature, technically,” Kurt corrected absentmindedly. He looked up to see Sebastian doing his hair in the dresser mirror, probably only half-listening to what Kurt was saying. “Are you sure you want me borrowing this? It’s Versace. And it retails over four hundred dollars.”

“It’s shiny and covered in flowers, and cost me exactly zero dollars,” Sebastian responded, not bothering to look away from the mirror. “It would be ideal if you took it off my hands forever.” Then he started to put on some cologne, like that was that.

Kurt would have protested more, but he could hear the siren call from the couture in his hands. Wear me, it sang, I’m beautiful and I’m not being appreciated and I’m practically your size. Wear me! Who was Kurt to deafen his ears to that? “Oh my god,” he breathed as he slid the track pants on. Kurt ran back to the closet so he could look at himself in the full-length mirror. “I’m not gonna keep these because they are super expensive, but oh my god. You are too generous, Sebastian, thank you so much!”

And then, because Kurt was stupid and he didn’t think before acting, he skipped back out, threw his arms around Sebastian’s shoulders, and planted one on him. What the hell was wrong with him? Why would he make everything awkward like this? The window for post-coital kissing was closed! They were going out to a friendly lunch! There was nothing friendly about sticking your tongue in someone’s mouth!

Sebastian kissed back though. He didn’t miss a beat before his arms were around Kurt’s waist and he was giving as good as he got. Kissing Sebastian was just as wonderful in the light of day as it had been the night before, even though they didn’t have the added rush of newness and anticipation anymore. It was a different kind of wonderful, sunnier and more familiar but still utterly thrilling. Kurt pulled away before they ended up back in bed— they hadn’t eaten anything resembling a proper meal in twelve hours; that would just be irresponsible— and bit his lip when he saw the dazed look on Sebastian’s face. Wow, I did that.

“It was just some ugly pants, Kurt,” Sebastian said, voice a little shaky.

Kurt kissed his cheek before sitting down to put his boots on “Where does your grandma live?”

Sebastian grabbed his backpack— the poor soul, Kurt couldn’t imagine suffering evening classes on a Friday— and slipped into a pair of boat shoes. “Paris, why?”

“I’m gonna fly out to Paris and go shopping with her so that someone appreciates her impeccable taste,” Kurt explained, standing back up and sticking his things in his pockets before he grabbed his jacket.

Sebastian laughed and slung an arm over Kurt’s shoulder— totally unnecessary, since it wasn’t like Kurt was going to wander away and get lost on the path from Sebastian’s bedroom down to the car, but Kurt still found himself stepping into Sebastian’s side— to guide them out the bedroom. “I will happily buy your ticket as long as I’m not stuck wearing whatever froufrou shit you two will inevitably fool yourselves into thinking is worth buying.”