“Ah, and here’s my favorite part,” Kurt says and shakes the newspaper out with a flare. “‘And although the nonlinear structure of the plot will without a doubt confuse even some of the more learned attendees, the performance by Sebastian Smythe -a recent NYADA graduate and off-broadway newcomer- artfully takes the audience on a heartfelt and emotional journey that transcends any holes in the storyline,” Kurt says in an excited rush. He glances up at Sebastian who is looking at him with a mixture of awe and something akin to queasiness, and he sighs and waves him over. He pats the barstool next to him. “Come sit, there’s more!” He says excitedly.
He scans the page looking for the spot he’d read earlier. “Where is it? Where is --ah! Here ‘And it’s performances like these that make me excited to continue to come to the theater. Smythe is definitely a talent to keep an eye on in the future,’” Kurt finishes.
“I told you I wasn’t being biased when I said you were amazing,” Kurt says as he folds up the paper. “As your best friend and roommate I am completely comfortable with telling you when you suck.”
Kurt laughs a little and looks up at him and sighs. “I’m really proud of you Sebastian, this is huge!” When Sebastian doesn’t move or say anything, Kurt frowns. “What’s the matter with you?”
Sebastian stares at him for a second longer before he strides towards Kurt, in long determined steps, and collides his face against Kurts. Ow , Kurt thinks before he realizes that yes, those are lips pressing against his own. In the few seconds it takes his brain to helpfully produce all the reasons why this is un-fucking-explainable, Sebastian pulls away. Kurt sees the look of fear in his eyes when he pulls back, a look that slowly turns into confusion, then settles on panic.
“Did you just kiss me?” Kurt asks dumbly, the newspaper he’d been reading slipping from his fingers.
“Fuck,” Sebastian says, his eyes flitting frantically across Kurt’s face.
Kurt wants to reassure him, to tell him that, no, it’s okay, that he wants this too, and don’t panic it’ll be fine . But before he can do any of that, Sebastian is heading towards their bedroom door and out into the hallway yelling, “Fuck, don’t move.”
Of course Kurt follows him.
“Sebastian, it’s okay. Listen we can talk about it,” Kurt says and then pauses to listen for him. “Sebastian?”
Sebastian comes out of the bathroom looking annoyed.
“Damn it, Kurt. I said don’t move,” Sebastian says as he walks over to him. He grabs his elbow and guides him onto a barstool. He lifts his head by his chin, and Kurt almost closes his eyes, prepared for another kiss. “You’re gonna get blood everywhere.”
Kurt’s mind abruptly halts. He’s simultaneously confused and worried but doesn't even know where to start.
Sebastian takes that moment to bring a damp towel to Kurt’s face and wipes under his nose, and yep--
“Ow ow ow,” Kurt says. Sebastian hisses and pulls away, towel coming back bloody.
“Fuck, I think I broke your nose,” Sebastian says, a bit too calm for Kurt’s liking because excuse me.
“What?!” Kurt shouts.
“I’m sorry,” Sebastian says and reaches back to put the towel under Kurt’s nose. Kurt, who valiantly tries to pull away against Sebastian’s caveman like strength, is easily wrangles into a forceful one arm hold as he continues to wipe at the bloody mess. “Stop moving or it’ll keep bleeding.”
“It’ll keep bleeding because it’s broken. Because you attacked me,” Kurt yells and then adds. “You neanderthal.”
“Kurt,” Sebastian says again, having the nerve to sound exasperated. “It’s probably not that broken.”
Kurt turns to glare at him. Sebastian stares back. And if Kurt were in a better mood right now, he’d acknowledged the forced blankness on Sebastian’s features, a look he hasn’t seen him wear in at least a year. A look Kurt’s worked hard to fade out of existence. But he’s not in a better mood, he’s pissed and in pain and confused. So instead, he snatches the towel, hops off the barstool and storms off into his room.
He makes sure to lock eyes with Sebastian as he slams the door, which admittedly is a bit dramatic.
But in Kurt’s defense, he really did not see this coming. Not that he’s ever been particularly clued in to who’s gay and who’s straight. His gaydar was recalled after the whole Evil Santa incident. Which they do not talk about, thank you very much. But this, this is Sebastian we’re talking about. The same Sebastian who eyed his outfit to the Ohio Governor's banquet with heteronormative distaste the night they met. The same Sebastian who can be seen in numerous pictures standing next to his very conservative family, ever the golden boy for the political dynasty that awaited him. Sebastian, who he has personally seen pick up girls at bars and take them home.
And sure, Kurt has had his fair share of fantasies about this man. It was those fantasy fueled thoughts that made him tap the man on the shoulder when he spotted him in the crowded cafe in New York City months after that first meeting. It was dreams of those eyes crinkling up in a smile that made him invite him over for dinner with his roommates. It was the quick-wit that often came out as an insult that made him invite Sebastian out for drinks with his friends. It was his rare, carefree laugh that made Kurt keep asking and pushing and listening very chance he got until they were friends. It was the soft look he gave Kurt whenever Kurt opened up about his own issues and heartaches that made him want to never stop giving himself over to Sebastian.
On the outside, Kurt and Sebastian didn’t make sense as friends. Sometimes it even took Kurt by surprise, the ease in which he and Sebastian got along. To an outsider, it was a bizarre mix of insult fueled spats, fights over long and exhaustive political debates, and an alarming amount of cuddling that, of course, is “no homo”, and as Sebastian would so eloquently shout before clinging to Kurt’s side for dear life.
And yes, okay, Sebastian was there for Kurt after Blaine and Adam and Hot Santa Cody. He let him cry, and rage, and vent, and veg-out far longer than any of his other friends did. He was there through his Dad’s cancer scare, and Finn, and the spiral of grief that came along with that. And fine , Kurt was there for Sebastian when his parents cut him off when he decided to change his major from humanities, gearing up for his pre-planned career as a lawyer, to theater, after Kurt tricked (although he prefers to call it ‘gently guided’) him into auditioning for a community theater role, which Sebastian loved by the way. He helped him get a scholarship to NYADA, and helped him pack up his dorm at Columbia, and bribed Santana and Rachel into letting Sebastian stay with them - god bless Isabelle for turning a blind eye to their names being added to every Vogue.com private party. And then Kurt let them have the bigger room of the two-bedroom apartment they had to move into when four people sharing a studio became a bit ridiculous. Alas, Kurt was there when the two seats Sebastian had reserved for his parents remained empty during their graduation last year.
So for three years now, they’ve been doing this. This admittedly weird friendship that toed the line into unknown territory more times than he can count. Kurt had always assumed it was one-sided and unrequited.
But none of this explains why Sebastian attacked Kurt mid sentence by smashing his face against his.
Kurt wallows in pain and annoyance for a while, his mind replaying the events of the past hour, and tries to think about what it all could possibly mean. He’s confused, for sure, but he won’t lie and say part of him isn’t a little hopeful.
With every ounce of courage Kurt can muster, he pulls himself away from his bed and heads towards his bedroom door. He pauses, moving the towel to check if his nose has stopped bleeding, before he places his hand on the knob. He holds it there, steeling himself for this conversation he’s about to have. Wants to have. N eeds to have.
He pulls the door open and steps out into the empty room.
“Sebastian?” He calls out, then waits. When he gets no response he walks towards the bathroom and peaks inside. Nothing. He walks across the living room towards Rachel and Santana’s room but doesn’t find him there either.
Kurt slowly walks back into the living room and looks around. He wraps his arms around his middle, self-consciously, as realization that Sebastian has left the apartment starts to sink in. He suddenly feels very lonely.
Turns out his nose is not broken, just as Rachel predicted when she’d seen him later that day, but he does have a nasty bruise. A bruise that he gingerly sets a bag of frozen peas on as he glares up at the ceiling.
“Do I need to go Lima Heights on Smythe?” Santana asks, appearing out of nowhere.
“Jesus,” Kurt says, heart racing uncomfortably as he shoots up to a sitting position, bag of peas sliding ungracefully off his face. Santana ignores him and just moves to stand in front of him.
“Spill Bummel, what happen to your snot cave?”
Kurt just glares at her.
“Fine. I’ll guess,” Santana says, crossing her arms. “ You couldn't keep the lady boner you’ve been harboring for that ‘pray-the-gay-away Stepford-son’ for years in your pants any longer and tried to jump his bones.”
“What?” Kurt squawks.
“And,” Santana continues on, ignoring him. “He punched you in the face for it.”
“Santana no,” Kurt says, sighing heavily, already over this conversation.
“Um, yeah,” Santana says, and snatches the peas out of Kurt’s hands when he goes to put them back to his face. “That’s the only thing that makes sense. Rachel agrees with me.”
“Woah, no!” Rachel says, coming from her hiding spot. “I don’t think you have a lady boner.”
“Is this some sort of weird intervention,” Kurt says looking skeptically between the two of them.
“Kurt,” Rachel says, taking the seat next to him. She pats his hand softly. “We just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“And if we need to find a new roommate.”
“Because it’s okay if Sebastian --”
“Okay guys stop,” Kurt says and stands, pushing away from them. “You guys can’t seriously believe that Sebastian hit me.”
Rachel and Santana exchange looks before Rachel speaks. “Well no, but his excuse--”
“Your resistance band broke and you smacked yourself in the face?”
Kurt rolls his eyes. Of course Sebastian gave them a stupid excuse.
“And the fact that you two are avoiding each other.”
“Yeah the stench of axe has been real scarce the past couple of days.”
“We just can’t help but think something... else happened,” Rachel finishes.
Kurt just stares at them for a long beat before he takes a deep breath. “Okay, let’s get this straight. I did not try to ‘jump anyone’s bones’," he says adding finger quotes for emphasis. “Also, I’m not harboring anything for Sebastian.”
Santana and Rachel exchange a look again and Kurt snaps, “I’m not!”
“Kurt,” Rachel starts, but Kurt cuts her off.
“Plus, Sebastian hasn’t prayed for anything to go away since he had chlamydia last year,” Kurt says. “Trust me.”
“And how do you know he had chlamydia,” Rachel counters.
“Because he’s my roommate,” Kurt says, annoyed. “And my best friend.”
Rachel makes a noise of protest, but Santana beats her to actually responding.
“Look. Okay, fine, neither of us really think Smythe has it in him to hurt you, but come on,” she says and waves a hand towards his face.
Kurt rolls his eyes. “We already told you what happened.”
“Then why are you acting so weird around each other?” Rachel asks. Kurt sighs and reaches for his bag of peas again.
“We’re not," he grumbles as he sinks back into the couch. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm his fraying nerves. If he’s being honest with himself, even if he wanted to tell them what was going on, he wouldn’t even know where to start.
Days pass before Kurt sees Sebastian again, which isn’t exactly surprising to Kurt.
“Sure, maul a guy’s face off and then disappear for days. That’s mature,” Kurt grumbles to himself as he aggressively presses the delete key on his computer. It also doesn’t help that his mind magnifies the description of what actually happened the longer Sebastian avoids him and the longer Kurt’s texts go unanswered. “Typical.”
The bruise on his face is starting to turn a healthy shade of yellow-green, when Sebastian finally stumbles into the apartment at 11 pm on Saturday.
Kurt looks up from the kitchen table where he’s working on a blog post for work and pauses. Their eyes meet and there’s a long tense, moment of silence. Kurt works hard on biting back the barrage of questions he has for Sebastian. Where have you been? Why didn’t you call me back? Why did you kiss me and then disappear for almost a week?
Instead, he just sits back in his chair, crosses his arms and waits. Two can play the silent game.
Sebastian hesitates, looking around the apartment, probably for Santana or Rachel or any other distraction, before coming into the kitchen. As he gets closer, Kurt can tell he’s been drinking. There’s a flush to his skin, and his movements are a little clumsy as he opens and closes cabinet doors, pulling out a mason jar (because he is a wanna be hipster) and a bottle of vodka as he goes. He takes his time at the counter pouring himself a small serving into the jar before slowly screwing the cap back on.
After what feels like ages later, Sebastian walks over and takes a seat across from Kurt.
The silence teeters like a stack of bricks piled too high, and Kurt can’t take it anymore.
“Where have you been?”
Sebastian runs a finger along the rim of the glass and shrugs. “Stayed at Kara’s for a few days.”
Kurt nods, tearing his eyes away to look back down at his screen. “Right, I’m sure you had fun then.”
“Sure,” Sebastian says dully, “Kara’s always… fun. I guess.”
“Well, you’ve been sleeping with her for years now. So, I’d hope so,” Kurt says, not bothering to remove the disdain in his voice.
Sebastian doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at the glass in front of him. As the silence drags on, Kurt forces himself to looks away and down to his computer. He loses track of how many times he reads the same sentence before Sebastian speaks up.
“Sorry about your face,” Sebastian says, finally. He takes a sip of his drink and Kurt can see the small smile playing at his lips. Kurt’s never wanted to smother him more than he does in this moment.
“You think it’s funny?” Kurt asks, incredulous.
Sebastian breaks into a brilliant smile and huffs out a bark of laughter before he nods. “Yeah, a little.”
Kurt scoffs, annoyed. No, he’s pissed. He rolls his eyes and starts to stand up. He closes his laptop with a bit more force than strictly necessary. “I’m glad my pain, physical and emotional, I might add, can be a source of your enjoyment.”
“Hey, hey,” Sebastian says and reaches over, grabbing Kurt’s wrist as he’s about to walk away. “I’m sorry. Truly. Just.” He pauses and pulls back his hand. “Just sit down a sec and let me explain.”
Kurt turns to walk away anyway. “I don’t have time for this Sebastian. Whatever joke you’re playing at, leave me out of it.”
“It’s not a joke, Kurt. Please,” Sebastian says.
Kurt stops. He turns to look at Sebastian. His heart beats uncomfortably at the raw emotion on Sebastian’s face. Sebastian looks away and takes another sip of vodka. Kurt watches him take a deep breath before he stands and begins to walk towards Kurt. There’s an intense look in his eyes that instinctively makes Kurt take a few steps back, forcing him against the counter. Sebastian takes advantage of that and rests his hands on the counter, bracketing Kurt in between his arms.
“It wasn’t a joke," he says a bit calmer this time. His eyes trailing down to Kurt’s lips. And Kurt’s heart jolts.
“So you meant to bash my face in,” Kurt says, going for deadpan, but it comes out breathy and hesitant.
Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic, Kurt. You know what I meant?”
Kurt stands up straighter and crosses his arms, putting him flush against Sebastian’s chest. He’ll pretend like he can’t feel the unsteady rhythm of Sebastian’s heart beating against his arm because this is clearly all in his head.
“Do I, Sebastian?” Kurt challenges, “because from over here, all I know is that my straight roommate almost broke my nose and then avoided me for a week to go screw his girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Sebastian says, his eyes trailing down to Kurt’s lips before he adds, “and maybe not that straight.”
Which is all the warning he has before Sebastian leans in to press his lips against Kurt’s. And Kurt knows he’ll regret this later, like full on panic attack inducing, what-the-fuck-was-I-thinking regret. But in this moment he can’t think of anything he’d rather do than wrap his arm around Sebastian’s neck and melt into him. So he does.
Sebastian’s hands move down to his thighs, and there’s a brief moment where the kiss breaks while Sebastian dips his hands even lower and Kurt is suddenly being lifted onto the counter. On instinct he wraps his legs around Sebastian, pulling him in closer as their lips connect once more. Sebastian's lips part, and he feels the first swipe of tongue against his lips and he moans as he deepens the kiss. Spurred on by his enthusiasm, Sebastian grabs Kurt by the hips and slides him towards the edge of the counter so their lower bodies connect, grinding his erection against him.
Kurt pulls back, head tilting as he moans, and Sebastian takes the opportunity to kiss along his neck, pulling more gasps and moans with every touch.
“Don’t -- marks,” Kurt tries, but he has to grab onto him tighter as Sebastian’s hips start to move faster against Kurt. Kurt closes his eyes, letting the sensation of pleasure wash over him and tries not to think to hard about the fact that he’s twenty-fucking-two and about to come in his pants like a teenager.
Sebastian laughs, breathy and hitching slightly, and kisses him again.
“It’s okay. That makes two of us.” He says against Kurt’s lips. Oh great , Kurt thinks, I said that out loud . This man will be the end of him if he can already hardly think and his dick hasn’t even been touched.
Sebastian grabs Kurt’s hips harder and grinds faster, pulling him flush against him as he plants open mouth kisses along his jaw and down his neck. Kurt’s moans loudly as sebastian sucks lightly at his skin. Kurt can’t even bring himself to comment about marks this time, as it all becomes too much. His hips buck against Sebastian and he closes his eyes tight as he comes, a shameless groan spilling from his mouth because finally.
His brain goes into a mushy post-orgasm haze and he enjoys the lingering jolts of pleasure as Sebastian continues to grind against him. He barely recognizes that Sebastian is saying something, nonsensical words of encouragement, as he get’s closer to his own orgasm. Kurt doesn’t really listen. He just leans in and captures Sebastian’s lips in another kiss. As he pulls back, he bites down on Sebastian’s lips and tugs it softly with his teeth. Sebastian groans loudly and his hips stutter.
“Fuck," he moans and buries his face against Kurt’s chest. They stand there for a long time, breathing heavily, trying to calm down from the moment.
As the fog in Kurt’s brain starts to clear, his mind helpfully reminds him of Sebastian’s earlier comment. His heart rate picks up again as his mind loops : Not that straight Not that straight Not that straight.
“And what does that even mean?” Kurt says, thinking out loud. Sebastian pulls back slowly, giving him a confused look that slowly turns into a soft smile.
“What?” Sebastian asks quietly.
Kurt struggles for a second because it’s such an endearing moment, and he lets himself get lost for a minute. He runs his hands through Sebastian’s hair and can’t help the smile that forms when Sebastian leans into his touch and closes his eyes briefly before looking up at Kurt again.
“What have we done?” Kurt asks again, a little softer this time as the panic settles into a manageable ball of unease in his stomach. Sebastian exhales and then shrugs.
“We’ll figure it out I guess," he says and leans in to kiss him again, effectively quieting the raging boil of questions in Kurt’s mind.
Apparently, “figuring it out” includes a lot of making out. Which Kurt’s not exactly complaining about. In fact, he finds himself getting more and more turned on by being crowded up against counters and dressers and bathroom sinks. More times than not they fall asleep snuggled against each other in one of their crammed beds instead of sleeping separately.
They don’t do anything in front of anyone, obviously. To the rest of the world Sebastian is straight, and he seems content on keeping it that way. And after an initial, chaotic few weeks that have Kurt more confused and horny than he’s ever been before, things finally get back to normal. Well as normal as it can be when he’s trying to navigate a secret relationship. He mostly gets the hang of it, tending to distance himself from Sebastian when they go out to bars or have hangouts at the apartment. Because even though his head knows they have to be chill, his dick is not with the program. He’s not sure his heart is either.
It also doesn’t help that the first time he slipped up, Sebastian reacted poorly. He’d let his hand linger a little too long in Sebastian’s hair, meant to be a playful tussle in front of everyone. Sebastian jerked away suddenly and shot him the most scathing glare he’d been on the receiving end of since the early days of their friendship. Kurt had laughed it off, red-faced, when Sebastian made a teasing remark about it, secretly cursing himself because he was so sure he’d messed this up for good.
That was until Sebastian got him off against their bedroom door later that night.
Logically, he knows he should put a stop to … whatever it is that he and Sebastian are doing. And every time he tells himself that he’s going to stop, that he and Sebastian are going to talk and not just make out, all the blood rushes to his crotch and demands all of his attention. Attention that Sebastian is most willing to give.
So this cycle continues, far longer than it should, until Kurt doesn’t even try anymore. Until he’s content with this thing they have, until he convinces himself it’s not important to have it all figured out right now. He’s happy. Sebastian’s happy. No one’s getting hurt. What’s the big deal?
Turns out the big deal is that Kurt is, overall, not good at hiding his feelings for Sebastian.
On the last night of Sebastian’s stint in his play, which lasted an impressive six months, Kurt decides to throw him a party to celebrate. A party that’s meant to be small and quaint that somehow turns into a low-grade rager by the time Santana’s done overruling all of his decisions.
Which is fine since Sebastian seems to be enjoying himself. It’s for the best, really. He’s been getting curious looks from Santana a lot lately when he and Sebastian hang out, and he’s not really in the mood for her comments. He’s still low-key pissed she hijacked his party. Not to mention he’s seen Kara a few times, and he’d like to avoid seeing what the night holds for her and Sebastian if he can help it.
Kurt thinks he’s doing pretty well too, all things considered. He’s roped into a game with Jesse and Rachel and Santana and her girlfriend Elaine -- he may or may not have been operating on a small bout of relationship envy for the past few months now watching the two couples, not the point. He’s feeling pretty solid about the night until he catches Sebastian in the corner of his eye and freezes as he turns to look at him.
His brain shorts for a second before he turns quickly to Jesse and says “Um, hey. Let me go find that tie I borrowed from you awhile ago.”
Jesse gives him a confused look, but Kurt doesn’t stay to hear Jesse’s response. He just sits down his drink and backs away from the group. He doesn’t miss the look of confusion that crosses over Santana’s face, or the look she throws over her shoulder towards the group in the corner. The group that contains Sebastian Smythe, tonight’s honored guest, wrapped around a leggy red-head.
As Kurt turns to leave he can’t help but follow Santana’s gaze and feels his face heat with embarrassment. Luckily he has half a bottle of champagne to blame the flush on. He’ll also blame the alcohol for his inability to keep his shit together in front of his friends. This night is not about him. It’s about Sebastian and the great job he’s done, and if he can just get to his room without anyone stopping him he’ll be okay.
“God,” Kurt breathes out in a rush as he opens and closes the door quickly, muting the voices of the house guests.
The room is dark, sans for the soft light filtering through the window from the emergency lights on the fire escape. Kurt leans his flushed cheek against the cool side of the door as he takes a deep, calming breath. He lets the silence wash over him. It’s been a long day of planning and calling and confirming and fighting with Santana and surprising idiots who are wrapped around leggy redheads...He’s tired. Tired and very happy for this rare moment of solitude.
Rare and short lived because seconds later the door knob clicks and he feels the push of wood against his face. Kurt hurries away from the door as it swings open, spilling light into the room.
In his haste, trying to avoid a broken nose, he stumbles over a shoe left in the middle of the floor --because of course, he lives with animals-- and falls backwards in a haze of flailing limbs.
A hand grabs onto him at his elbow and yanks . Which ow, Kurt thinks, as he’s effectively brought back to the land of the vertical.
“Shit, Bambi. What’s your damage now?” Santana says.
And Kurt doesn’t answer. He’s momentarily dizzy from all the movement. He starts to hear Artie in his head singing “blame it on the alcohol” and can’t help the bubble of laughter that escapes him as he leans forward, his head landing on her shoulder.
Santana pushes at his shoulder and stares at him with a curious gaze. Kurt braces himself for some tirade about how stupid he’s being, and how he needs to get his drunk ass back out there and stop being a weird loser or something equally rude.
Instead, Santana just stares at him a bit longer, eyes unwavering, before she turns and leaves without saying anything else and closes the door shut behind her.
He huffs out a sigh of relief and then takes a long deep breath. He’s focusing on staying calm, and on breathing, and on taming the bile of jealousy rising in his throat, when the door flies open again, making him squint as light floods the room again.
Kurt can see the concerned look on Sebastian’s face before he quickly closes the door behind him, darkening the room once more. “You okay?” He asks quietly.
Kurt doesn’t say anything at first, but his heart picks up tempo as Sebastian reaches behind him to lock the door. “Santana said you were feeling sick.”
Kurt shakes his head and clears his throat. “Umm, no. It was just a little warm out there,” Kurt says and turns towards the dresser that divides their beds.
“Oh,” Sebastian says as Kurt reaches to turn on the lamp at the corner of his room. He’s just touched the plastic switch when Sebastian’s hand wraps around his wrist and pins it to the top of the dresser. Seconds later the front of his body is pressed hard against the dresser. “Well, that doesn’t explain why you’ve been avoiding me,” Sebastian says softly against his neck.
Kurt’s body flushes hot, and lets out a small gasps when Sebastian presses in closer behind him, his erection making itself known against Kurt’s ass. And he kinda hates himself for being this easy for him, for wanting to push back harder into Sebastian. But when Sebastian mouths at his neck and presses him even harder against the dresser, his other hand reaching to capture Kurt’s hand, the slow swell of arousal he normally feels when he’s around Sebastian hikes up intensely and he can feel his bulge straining in his own jeans. He lets his head loll forward as Sebastian slowly grinds against him.
“Sebas-”, Kurt tries, words dying out in a breathy moan. He feels like he’s drowning all off a sudden and all he want is Sebastian’s hands on him.
“Every time I came your way,” Sebastian says, one of his hands moving from Kurt’s on the dresser down to the front of Kurt’s jeans and rubs at his erection. Like he can read his mind. “You just avoided me. And on my big night too.”
Painfully aroused or not, Kurt can’t help but roll his eyes at that. He catches Sebastian’s eyes in the mirror and finds him smirking back. Getting some of the grip on reality back to him, Kurt sighs, leaning back into Sebastian so his head rest on his shoulder before he says, “You seemed to have enough fans tonight.”
Sebastian leers, and Kurt’s heartbeat doubles.
“You know,” Sebastian says as he undoes the button on Kurt’s jeans. “Jealousy looks good on you.”
Sebastian turns to spit in his hand. And Kurt wants to scream because gross, no, don’t you dare but also yes, god please, just touch me.
“I’m not -- oh my god.” Kurt’s annoyed retort is cut short as Sebastian wraps a hand around him.
“Did you see that red head all over me?” Sebastian asks as he slowly jerks Kurt off, grinding against him in time.
“Sh-- shut up.”
“Nope,” Sebastian says and then plants a kiss on his neck. His breath hitches in Kurt’s ear as he grinds against him. “Guess what she said to me.”
“Sebastian,” Kurt whines, hips bucking into Sebastian’s grip.
“Uh uh,” Sebastian says, breath hot against Kurt’s neck as he grinds faster. “Want me to tell you?”
Kurt doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t care, he doesn’t. He cares about the hand on his dick and not getting semen on this vintage dresser. He cares about Sebastian’s breath coming in hot, fast pants at the side of his neck, and he cares that his heart’s trying to escape from his goddamn chest at the sight of it.
“Come on, babe,” Sebastian practically purrs in Kurt’s ear and he realizes that he cares about the look in Sebastian’s eyes as he watches Kurt fall apart in his arms. And suddenly Kurt’s stricken by how every time with Sebastian feels like the first time. By how he simultaneously wants him to stop touching him but also never let him go, and how he wants him to break him down but be there to put him back together. It’s this insane rush of images, and feelings , that push Kurt over the edge. He spills over Sebastian’s hand and groans, leaning forward on the dresser again, and his body moves in jerky movements as Sebastian speeds up behind him.
“Look at me,” Sebastian breathes out in a rush, almost pleadingly. Kurt can’t really muster enough energy to look over his shoulder, but he lifts up far enough on his elbows that their eyes lock in the mirror. The dim light softens the thin sheen of sweat on Sebastian’s brow and he let’s his eyes roam down to Sebastian’s parted lips, his breath coming out in stuttered burst. This, Kurt thinks dazedly, is his favorite Sebastian; unguarded, undone, and unafraid to be all his. The thought makes him smile and push back against him as Sebastian grinds.
“Oh fu-- Kurt.” Sebastian starts, his hips buck against him a few more times before he stops and leans heavily on top of Kurt’s back, pressing him firmly against the dresser once more.
They stand there breathing frantically against each other. Kurt’s sex addled mine tells him it’s a good idea to turn his hand over and lace his fingers with Sebastian’s still on top of his. There’s a sweet few seconds when Sebastian let’s his thumb lightly trace against Kurt’s hand, before a loud noise from the party brings them back to reality and Sebastian eases off a little. Kurt can practically feel his shields come back up.
“That was fun,” Sebastian says, voice deep and gravelly. Kurt scoffs and leans back. Sebastian gets the hint and steps back as Kurt pulls open the second drawer, hating himself for knowing just where to look. He pulls out a pair of briefs and turns, eyeing Sebastian as he strips out of his jeans and ruined boxers.
“More like,” Kurt pauses, makes a show of checking his watch. “That was fast.”
“Oh fuck you,” Sebastian says grabbing the briefs from him. He bends over to put them on but doesn’t break eye contact with Kurt. “ I am when I need to be.”
Kurt rolls his eyes and moves to button up his pants. He turns away from Sebastian once more. “Of course, a little quicky before you head back to your party.”
“Technically you threw the party. I was prepared to just go and get drunk with the rest of the cast tonight,” Sebastian says, laughter evident in his voice. Kurt just sighs.
“Hey,” Sebastian’s says tone shifting to something much softer. He wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist and pulls him close. “What’s up?”
“What?” Kurt asks, a little distracted by what might be jizz on his shirt. Sebastian nudges him to turn around towards him and when Kurt looks up he’s distracted for a totally different reason. There’s a surprising look of sincerity on Sebastian’s face.
“Are you okay?” He asks. And Kurt can only nod. Sebastian smiles then before he cups Kurt’s face in his hands and brings him in for a gentle kiss. And it’s a testament to how crazy he is about this man that he doesn’t immediately balk at the fact that one of these hands was stained with him less than thirty seconds ago.
More shocking than that is the fact that they’re kissing at all. Not that kiss is something they don’t do. Quite the opposite, most of their time at the start was just a bunch of heated make out sessions that ended with them rubbing off against each other.
But this, this kiss that hedges on being tender, has Kurt’s a little shocked. He’s used to messy kisses that leads to a quick grope here, a blowjob there, and when they’re really phoning in the denial of what’s happening between them, kissing that leads them to a drunk/tangle/naked mess on the floor of their bedroom.
Sebastian smiles brilliantly, clearly oblivious to the new onslaught of questions he’s just threw into Kurt’s mind, and walks away redoing the buttons on his jeans. He reaches over to turn on the light, and for a second they both squint at the brightness. He holds his arms up and does a little spin around. “How do I look?”
“Nothing like a guy who just came in his pants, “ Kurt says. Sebastian laughs. “What about me?”
Sebastian looks down his body slowly and Kurt can’t even be bother to get embarrassed by the heat rising to his skin. “Like someone I just wrecked, “ He says and winks at Kurt.
Kurt rolls his eyes and turns back to the dresser as Sebastian turns towards the door. He hears the door unlock, open and then close quickly. In the silence that follows, Kurt looks at his reflection in the mirror and tries not to think about how right Sebastian is. Thanks to him, he is completely and totally wrecked.