“Yeah,” Sebastian says, shooting Kurt a mocking look. “Duh! That’s the way it’s done.”

“No. That’s not the way it’s done,” Kurt says, sitting up taller in his seat, knowing that the boys around them, keeping their opinions to themselves, are watching. “Other members here might have ideas. The Warblers isn’t a dictatorship. That’s why it’s run by a council.”

“Kurt’s right, you know,” Thad says from where he’s sitting behind Sebastian, obscured by the body of the boy standing in front of him, and with an unsettling view of his backside. “We need to see if anyone else has any ideas, and then we put it to a vote.”

“Fine,” Sebastian says with an epically put-off eye roll. “Anyone else with any ideas?” Kurt’s hand shoots up, but no one else’s. Sebastian looks around, deliberately avoiding Kurt’s arm waving in the air. “No one? See,” he says, turning to the three boys behind him, “we’re wasting precious practice time.”

“I think that we should consider doing a Sondheim medley,” Kurt says without being called on.

“Is that even a real suggestion?” Sebastian laughs. “Because it doesn’t sound like a real suggestion.”

“Okay,” Thad says, scooting his chair closer to David beside him, fighting his way out from behind Sebastian’s back to be seen. “Now, unfortunately, Kurt, we can’t do the Sondheim medley, because another group already called it.”

“Ha!” Sebastian crows.

“Which group?” Kurt asks, ignoring Sebastian as much as he can with the boy practically looming over him, staring at him with laughing eyes.

“Uh…” Thad looks through some paperwork he had brought in with him, “The Golden Throats.”

“Oh my God!” Sebastian says, giddy. “Those old cronies from the retirement home in Columbus had the same idea as you, Kurt! That just goes to show you…”

“Show me what, Smythe?” Kurt asks, standing slowly, refusing to sit if he’s going to be insulted.

“That all of your ideas are awful and seriously outdated, kind of like your taste in music.”

“But we’re still open to suggestions if you have any other ideas, Kurt,” Thad says, standing as well, preparing to jump in the middle if this argument comes to blows. “Or does anyone else want to chime in?”

“No? Good? I say we put it to a vote,” Sebastian says, eying the other Warblers in the room, compelling them to keep quiet and side with him.

“No,” Kurt says.

“No?” Sebastian turns on Kurt, ready to pounce. “What do you mean no?”

“I say we don’t put it to a vote,” Kurt explains, “because it’s an asinine idea.”

“Well, no one really cares what you think, so…”

“I care,” Trent says, raising his hand, and a surprised room full of boys turn their heads to look at him. “I agree with Kurt. I’m not comfortable singing that song, especially not in competition. I mean, come on…my mom’s gonna be there.”

Kurt looks smugly at Sebastian. “See?”

“Okay, nobody cares what you or the Pillsbury Dough Boy over there thinks.”

“Do you even listen to yourself when you talk?” Kurt snaps, more bitter now that Trent’s being dragged into this.

“Yeah. It keeps me from having to listen to you.”

“Come on, guys,” Nick says, putting a hand on Kurt’s shoulder, then on Sebastian’s, “lets calm this down a bit before this gets out of hand.”

“I think that performing a song about giving blow jobs crosses the boundaries of good taste,” Kurt says, refusing to stop or back down.

“First of all, that song, regardless of what it’s about, is hot right now, and singing it will give us an edge in competition,” Sebastian parries. “And second, what would you know about good taste? You keep pairing that face with that mouth!”

Kurt’s eyes bore holes into Sebastian’s face, but Sebastian doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t look sorry at all, and the longer Kurt seethes, the wider Sebastian’s signature asshole grin becomes.

“Fine,” Kurt says, turning back to his chair and grabbing his bag.

“Kurt,” Jeff says, standing to stop him, “he didn’t mean it.”

“Of course I did,” Sebastian says, crossing his arms over his chest and settling back against the desk with a triumphant smile sealed across his lips.

“Sebastian,” Nick says, “why do you always have to be like this? Leave Kurt alone.”

“It’s fine, Nick,” Kurt says, gathering the rest of his things. 

“See?” Sebastian says, rubbing the fact that Kurt is relenting in Nick’s face. “He agrees with me. He says my song selection’s fine.”

“You guys sing your song about oral sex. If you’re all fine following his disgusting suggestion and getting us blacklisted from every competition from here to eternity, go right ahead. I’m not going to stop you.” Kurt’s eyes flick quickly around the room to see if anyone else has the good sense to object, too. “I’ll be in the library if you come to an intelligent conclusion.”

Kurt throws the strap to his bag over his shoulder, gives Sebastian one last long glare, then turns on his heel and heads out the door. The Warblers remain silent as they watch him leave. He doesn’t close the double doors behind him, and they hear the sound of his Oxfords echoing on the marble floors until he turns the corner.

Thad walks up to Sebastian, meeting him eye to eye.

“Go after him,” Thad says. “Apologize. Bring him back.”

“No,” Sebastian says with an indignant laugh. “Give me one good reason why I should.”

“The two of you have got to stop doing this. You’re both a part of this group. You have got to try to get along,” Thad says, his voice firm and even, the voice of a leader. 

“Whatever,” Sebastian says, rolling his eyes.

“Kurt has good ideas,” Thad continues undaunted, “and whether you like it or not, we need him. He has a voice that few other choirs in Ohio have. He gives us an advantage. You both do.”

Sebastian shakes his head, but Thad doesn’t turn away, and Sebastian realizes he has little choice but to do what he’s told. He doesn’t need Thad riding his ass all year. Besides, it won’t matter. It’s not like Thad’s going to be there when Sebastian catches up with Kurt and tells him exactly what he can do with his Sondheim medley.

“Fine,” Sebastian says, following Kurt’s lead and walking out of the practice room, heading down the hallway towards the library while the rest of the Warblers debate whether or not they’re actually going to put Sebastian’s song choice up to a vote.

***

“Hey! Kurt!” Sebastian calls out obnoxiously loud, ignoring the librarian when she shushes him. “Yo! Princess!” He struts the main aisle like a model in a fashion show, peeking briefly down each row of bookcases, not really in any hurry to find him. “Hum-mel! Stop pouting and get your ass back to mmph!”

Kurt reaches out from the stacks of biology books and grabs Sebastian by the lapels, pulling him down the aisle, his mouth hungrily pressed against his.

“That was quick,” Sebastian moans when Kurt latches on to his neck and sucks gently. “What? You can’t wait five minutes? I kind of like hunting you down.”

“You know,” Kurt mutters, fighting blindly with the buttons on Sebastian’s blazer to open it up and wrap his arms underneath, “you don’t have to be such an asshole. We’re supposed to be play fighting, remember?”

“I know, I know,” Sebastian mumbles, bending Kurt backward to get control of this kiss, “but Goddammit! Why is fighting with you so fucking hot?” Sebastian kisses Kurt again, pressing him up against the stacks of books, a hand trailing down to palm his ass.

“I don’t know,” Kurt says as soon as he gets space enough to breathe, “but we might want to tone it down a little. They might figure it out.”

“Nah,” Sebastian says, smiling against Kurt’s lips and squeezing his ass. “They have no idea.”

Kurt laughs in cahoots when Sebastian kisses him again, completely encompassing him, rutting lightly against him.

“Sebastian!” Kurt gasps at the feeling of Sebastian’s half-hard cock sliding against his. “What if someone sees us?”

“Kurt” - Sebastian looks at him with mock reproach - “I saw a grand total of two other boys in here, none of whom are in any of our classes.”

“What about the librarian?” Kurt hisses, looking back and forth to see if she’s anywhere around.

“You mean, that myopic old woman? She can barely see a foot in front of her face.”

Kurt knows that’s true. The first three times he came into the library, she called him ‘young lady’.

Sebastian chuckles as he closes back in on Kurt’s lips. “No one’s going to see us, babe. I promise.”

“Kurt?”

Both boys freeze when they hear a third voice join in and call out his name.

“Kurt? Are you in here?”

“Shit,” Sebastian curses. “It’s Nick.”

“Kurt, where are you?” Nick moves slowly through the rows of books, looking down the aisles in search of his friend. “I’m sorry about Sebastian being a jerk. I want to know if you’re okay.”

Sebastian grabs Kurt around the waist and ushers him further down the aisle, stopping when his back hits the wall.

“Shit, shit, shit!” he mutters. “He’s going to see us.”

Kurt looks from the expression on Sebastian’s face, to the boy he can only see in slivers between the book racks, headed their way.

“Okay,” Kurt says, “are we both agreed that now’s not the day we out ourselves?”

“What?” Sebastian asks, not taking his eyes off an approaching Nick.

“This relationship,” Kurt says experimentally, never having called what they’re doing a relationship before. Truthfully, they should have had this conversation before, instead of Kurt risking an argument right here, trapped against a set of Encyclopedia of the Natural World. “Are we ready to let anyone else know?”

Sebastian looks down at Kurt and catches the question in his eyes, the one that’s quietly begging Sebastian not to belittle this, even if they are just sneaking around. It started months ago, making out in different spots around campus, the taboo of hiding from their friends a humongous turn on. Now, it’s become complicated. Kurt knows that. But he doesn’t want to hear that it means nothing, either. Sebastian smiles, a softer smile than usual, and Kurt knows he understands.

“Not yet,” Sebastian says, kissing Kurt quickly on the mouth. “I just…I’m having a little too much fun with this, you know? I hope you don’t…”

“Me, too,” Kurt cuts him off with a giggle, mostly relieved. “That’s all I needed to hear. Look, I have a way to get us out of this.” Kurt breaks away from Sebastian’s grasp so suddenly that Sebastian actually looks upset.

“And that isouch!” Sebastian recoils, putting a hand to his cheek in response to Kurt slapping him hard across the face. “Fuck, Kurt!”

Kurt looks over his shoulder at Nick, stopped in the aisle one over. Amid the spattered shushing, he hears Nick call out, “Kurt,” rushing in the direction of that harsh slapping sound.

“That hurt!” Sebastian whines.

Kurt leans up to kiss his cheek. “I’ll make it up to you in my room later.”

“Kurt?” Nick says, finally arriving at their aisle, looking at the two boys standing across from one another - Kurt’s arms crossed protectively over his chest, and Sebastian, his hand covering a bright red mark on his cheek.

“Screw you, Smythe!” Kurt bites in a tone that only Sebastian recognizes – bitchy and angry, but with an underlying note of promise.

Kurt wipes away imaginary tears on his cheek as he picks up his discarded bag and rushes down the aisle to meet his friend.

“Kurt,” Nick says, his voice thick with worry, “what happened?”