Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kurt spreads out the musical books in front of him. With Regionals being over, it’s time for him to officially focus on his NYADA audition. It’s been a rough few weeks, with David getting outed and almost ending his life, Finn and Rachel trying to get married, and then Quinn getting in a car accident and ending up in a coma. He’s been working extra hours at the shop too with his dad being in DC and he’s starting to feel it now.

But it sort of feels like he’s missing out on something…

Maybe I should just do ‘Music of the Night’. It’s basic enough. It’s a song that pretty much everyone who loves showtunes knows and he can sing it…but something about it feels off. Empty, even. 

He takes a sip from his mocha and grimaces when he notices it’s almost empty. He really should stop spending money here when he needs to save up for New York. But he’s just so damn tired. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a familiar navy and red blazer and groans. He has a sinking feeling he knows which Dalton boy would drive all the way down here and he does not have the energy for it. Maybe if he just keeps his head down low, he won’t be noticed.

After a few seconds, the scrape of the chair across from him alerts him to someone’s presence and he can’t help the little scoff that comes out when he sees the Dalton blazer.

“Hi, Kurt.” He gets a surprisingly meek greeting and he raises an eyebrow.

“Sebastian,” he intones dryly. “To what do I owe the displeasure?”

He expects the same smug look he normally gets when he has to deal with him, but Sebastian seems…oddly subdued. Huh. Well, he did say he was turning over a new leaf. Maybe it wasn’t complete B.S.

Sebastian didn’t say anything in response though, just looking over curiously at what he’s doing.

“Not the Boy Next Door, huh?” he grabs a piece of sheet music and flips it his way so he can see it better. “What’s this for?”

Kurt slaps his hand away lightly. “It’s for my audition, now paws off.”

“Audition? For a Nationals solo or something?”

His hackles rise at that because Sebastian seems to always know what to say to stick the knife in and it’s pretty obvious his chance of getting a solo is slim to none at this point, but looking at his face…he seems just genuinely curious.

He relaxes but only slightly. “Audition for NYADA. We haven’t even talked about Nationals yet.”

He immediately clamps his mouth shut. Why did he say that? This is still the rival.

“Relax, I already know you guys don’t prepare for competitions until like the week before.”

Are his thoughts that obvious? He’ll take the out for what it is though.

“What brings you here, 2 hours away from home?” He tries to keep his tone light. “Blaine’s not here.” He doesn’t completely succeed.

“You.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m here for you. You’re here like all the time, so I figured at some point I would run into you.” And then there’s the smirk. “Do you live here or something?” he asks, echoing Kurt’s own words back at him.

Kurt glowers. “I needed some time to myself. And some caffeine. I’m exhausted.”

“I can tell. You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” he grits out. “Did you come all this way just to insult me?”

Sebastian looks away and if Kurt didn’t know any better, he would say he looks…guilty. “No,” he mumbles.

“So what do you want then?” All pleasant pretenses lost. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m busy.”

He swears he hears a muttered “You’re making this really hard, Hummel” but doesn’t say anything about it, just staring expectantly.

Sebastian gives a long-suffering sigh. “I wanted to…apologize.”

Kurt furrows his brow. That’s it? “You already did.”

“Not to you.”

Kurt sits back, crossing his arms. “Go on.”

Sebastian gives him a weird look. “What do you mean? That’s it.”

Kurt clenches his jaw. “You said you were here to apologize.”

“Yeah? I just did.”

Kurt presses the bridge of his nose. “Just saying you need to apologize isn’t an apology. What are you apologizing for?”

Sebastian scoffs. “If you don’t even know, then I shouldn’t even be wasting my time.”

“I do know, but I’m starting to think you don’t.” He starts to gather up his papers, chest feeling tight. “I don’t want an empty apology, Sebastian, I want accountability.” He stands up. “Come back when you’re ready to do that. Or don’t. I don’t really care anymore.”

“Wait.” A hand grabs out to him and he flinches away. Sebastian puts his own hands up in surrender. “Sorry.”

The mild panic he saw in Sebastian’s eyes is enough to make him sit down cautiously. “I’m listening.”

Sebastian looks physically pained now. It must be so rough having to actually take responsibility for things. “I…was a dick to you.”

He nods in agreement. “Yes, you were.”

“I tried to steal your boyfriend.”

“Yep.”

“I almost blinded him.”

“Mmhm.”

“And I said a lot of really shitty things to you.”

“Yeah, you’re kinda the worst.”

Sebastian looks annoyed and opens his mouth to snark something back, but thinks better of it, instead just rolling his eyes. “Yeah,” he agrees reluctantly. “Look, I don’t like the person I became. And I’m sorry.”

“Okay. I accept that. So, what are you gonna do about it?”

He shrugs his shoulders, at a loss. “Be different, I guess.”

It’s such a vague answer, but Kurt can give the benefit of the doubt. He did already apologize to Blaine and everyone and raised money for charity at Regionals. If David Karofsky can be a better person, then maybe Sebastian can too.

“Well, you’ve apologized, so that’s already a good start.” He extends the metaphorical olive branch.

Sebastian gives him a shocked look. “Wait, so that’s it? You just forgive me?”

“Not exactly.” Kurt tries not to hold grudges, but this wound is still fresh. “But if someone’s actually willing to change and prove that they mean it, then I’m willing to listen. I’m still skeptical of you, but you seem like you’re taking this seriously…”

“I am,” Sebastian burst out. “Taking it seriously.”

Kurt nods in understanding. “Well, then, I wish you all the luck.” He gets a vibration from his phone and resists the urge to roll his eyes. He’s pretty sure he knows who it is. “Thank you for apologizing.”

Sebastian’s giving him an assessing look, his green eyes piercing, and he looks away on impulse. He doesn’t like when people stare at him like that, like they’re looking straight through him. It makes his skin crawl.

His phone vibrates again, this time a phone call and Sebastian must’ve seen the look of resignation on his face because he gives an amused grunt, standing up. “I’ll let you take that.”

“Hello?” he answers his phone.

“Kurt?” Blaine’s voice comes through the speakers. “Where are you?”

He sounds demanding, but why? Kurt told him where he was going after school. “I’m at the Lima Bean looking over my audition music.” The annoyance seeps into his tone. “Where I said I was gonna be.”

A pause. “Why are you angry with me?”

So maybe he got snappier than intended. “I’m not,” he sighs out. “I’m just really tired, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” But his tone doesn’t sound all that happy. “I just wanted to go see a movie, but if you’re busy, then don’t worry about it.”

How long has it been since he’s actually been on a date? He needs a break.

“I’m not busy,” he lies, “I’m actually leaving right now. What time do you wanna meet up?”

“Well, the movie starts at 7:40.”

“Great, so we can meet at 6:30 and maybe get something to eat first? I’m starving.”

“Sure.” He sounds much perkier now. “See you in an hour. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

He starts gathering up his stuff in his bag, including his laptop right as Sebastian approaches again, another drink in hand. “Oh, you’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I have a date.” With Blaine. But for whatever reason, he doesn’t feel like bringing his boyfriend up directly. Something tells him the message was received anyway by the way Sebastian’s face dims a bit.

“Alright, well…” Sebastian shoves a coffee cup at him. “Take one for the road.”

Sebastian Smythe…bought him coffee? “Thanks.” He says unsurely. “How did you know my coffee order?”

“I didn’t, I just asked the barista to remake whatever she gave you earlier.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Well, thanks, I guess.” He starts to put the cup to his lips, but then pauses. Why would Sebastian just buy him coffee out of the blue? He narrows his eyes. “Maybe you should take a drink first.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “I didn’t poison it.”

“Which I will be 100% sure of if you drink it first and don’t keel over.” He’s teasing. Kind of. Not really. 

Thankfully, Sebastian doesn’t seem all that offended, instead snatching the cup and taking a dramatic gulp.

Kurt’s lips twitch in amusement as the Warbler’s face curls in disgust. “Well?”

“It’s awful. But I’m not dead.” He hands it back. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you.” And he means for more than just the taste test. “I have to go but, uhh, good luck on your ‘new leaf’.”

“Yeah, sure, thanks.”

He ignores the eyes leaving his back as he hops into his Navigator.

He doesn’t realize how true Sebastian’s statement of him looking exhausted is until he gets home and sees himself in the mirror.

He hasn’t had these sorts of dark circles in a while. Nothing a little concealer can’t hide.

His phone vibrates and he checks it.

Blaine <3: I’m here 😊 Sent 6:23

He swears under his breath, dabs on the last of his concealer, and heads out.

He takes a deep breath when he sees Blaine through the window, waiting. He checks himself in his car mirror one last time, even doing a quick bout of hairspray for some of his flyaways. The last thing he needs is to go in there looking frazzled and exhausted and have Blaine get all worried about him. This just needs to be a nice, relaxing night.

He checks his phone again. 6:32. Fashionably late.

One last glance over and he heads in.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he slides in to the booth across from Blaine.

Blaine smiles. “Oh, no, you’re fine. I was actually early. I ordered our drinks already though while I was here, y’know, to save time.”

“Oh sure, what did you-?”

“Two cokes?” A blonde server cut him off.

Blaine turns his attention to her. “That would be us, thank you.”

Kurt mutters his own “Thanks” as she sets the drink in front of him. He’s never liked coke…it tastes like battery acid to him. He’s told Blaine this multiple times, but it must’ve slipped his mind. He grimaces at the drink, willing it with his eyes to turn into something else. Anything else.

“Something wrong?” Blaine asks. “You’re staring at your drink like you expect it to start singing.”

He smiles a little. “No, no, I was just-“ he trails off, “-Just lost in thought, I guess.”

Blaine frowns. “You look kinda tired,” he points out and Kurt tries not to wince. Guess he didn’t hide it as well as he thought. “The Lima Bean stress you out that much?”

Meeting Sebastian is always stressful.

“No,” he says slowly, choosing his words carefully, and since he’s thinking of Sebastian… “But I did meet someone interesting.”

Blaine smiles, but there’s a tightness behind his eyes. “Who did you meet?”

There’s an edge to his tone that makes Kurt pause. Should he really tell him about his encounter with Sebastian? Yeah, he says he’s forgiven him, but how much can you really forgive someone who almost blinded you? And anytime Sebastian got brought up before, he always got super defensive. How would he react knowing Kurt had seen him alone and that he was surprisingly not as horrible as usual? And would Sebastian even want him to know, anyway? He said he had specifically sought him out alone…

“-urt? Kurt!” He breaks out of his thoughts with Blaine staring at him, mildly annoyed.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Blaine huffs. “You said you met someone at the Lima Bean and then completely spaced out on me.”

“Right, right, sorry, it was-um” Make something up, Kurt. “-Ryan Seacrest.”

Blaine gives him a funny look. “You saw Ryan Seacrest at the Lima Bean?”

“Yep!” he chirps, very convincingly in his opinion. “Weird, right? I mean, of all places.”

“Yeah. Weird.”

Blaine doesn’t really look convinced, but he thankfully doesn’t press it. The server chooses that exact moment to return for their orders, a Caesar chicken salad for him while Blaine gets some sort of fettucine.

Blaine takes most of the rest of the dinner chattering about some song he wants to sing for this week’s glee club and Kurt can shamefully admit he’s only half-listening but giving his obligated grunts of acknowledgement at the proper points so as not to make it obvious.

The rest of the date is pretty uneventful. They finish their dinner (with Blaine paying of course, like always, and Kurt fighting him on it, like always) and then they go to the movie, some action film he’s never heard of, but that he vaguely remembers Blaine mentioning a few times.

By the end of it, he’s ready to pass out and it’s just as he gives Blaine a kiss goodnight and thinks he’s in the clear that his boyfriend asks, “So, did you talk to him?”

He blinks. “Talk to who?”

“Ryan Seacrest.”

Why the hell is he asking about-? And then he remembers that ridiculous lie he had come up with. He chuckles nervously. “Psh, no. What would I even say to him?”

He must’ve taken just a beat too long to respond because Blaine narrows his eyes at him and almost looks like he wants to call him out on that blatant lie, but instead his face softens into a playful smirk. “You’re supposed to ask for an autograph, you goof.”

He slumps in relief and chuckles. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Maybe next time.”

Blaine gives him another kiss and they both head their separate ways.

Just as planned, he passes out almost as soon as he gets in bed, his last thoughts being what a weird day it’s been. Sebastian seeks him out just to play nice, and Blaine invites him on a date, something he hasn’t done since before the rock salt slushie incident.

 Maybe things are looking up.

Chapter Text

Sebastian isn’t a stalker. He just drives all the way down to the Lima Bean because he really likes their coffee. It has nothing to do with a conversation he had over a month ago with Kurt Hummel, of all people.

Okay so maybe it does. Maybe he’s hoping he can see Kurt again so they can pick up where they left off. In a different life, he thinks him and Kurt could’ve maybe been friends. In a life where he wasn’t such an asshole and Kurt wasn’t himself, maybe, but still.

That last conversation had been almost pleasant. He’s honestly a little surprised Kurt even gave him the time of day at all, but he’s apparently a much nicer person than he is.

And just like every other day he comes, Kurt is not here, and he’s left feeling- not disappointed necessarily, but- a little empty. And he kind of wants to kick himself for feeling that way. What would he even say anyway? He already apologized, Kurt accepted, it’s done. They never have to see or speak to each other ever again. So why-?

He checks his watch. Already almost 5. If Kurt’s not here by now, then he won’t be, so he might as well go home.

He starts his ignition and sees his oil change light come on and rolls his eyes. Right, normally his dad would do that, but he apparently forgot. Guess he has to before he goes home.

He googles the closest oil change shop, making sure to filter by reviews and heads on his way.

He pulls in the driveway and a broad guy with a name tag that says ‘Jim’ comes to greet him.

“Hey, kid, what can I do for ya?”

Sebastian nods. “Oil change.”

Jim nods and holds his hands out for the keys and Sebastian hesitates. He’s normally pretty picky about who maintains his car.

“This is my baby, so be careful.”

Jim rolls his eyes. “You’re not the first person to come here with an Audi.” He nods towards the door. “Go on inside and we’ll get you when it’s ready.”

“Thanks.” Jim doesn’t mince words, but he’s not unfriendly either. Sebastian doesn’t mind, he’s never really liked overly chatty people.

It’s when he’s in through the door that he hears a familiar voice at the desk speaking and freezes. Very familiar. …Seriously? Of all the people…He listens, approaching slowly.

“Okay, well Dan, our main body technician, is on vacation until next week, so I can make you an appointment for then if you’d like.” Kurt freaking Hummel is talking on the phone to someone, facing slightly away from him, looking as pristine as ever. A pause while someone is talking through the speaker and then Kurt speaks again. “Yes, I understand. So, does 11 AM Monday work for you?” Sebastian pulls out one of the chairs and winces as it squeaks across the floor. Kurt pauses, turning towards the noise, and double-takes when he sees him, eyes wide with horror. The voice on the speaker gets louder and he shakes himself, stuttering out, “Y-yes, of course, 10 AM works fine too. I’ll let him know. Thank you.”

And then he hangs up and whirls around to him. “What the hell are you doing here?” he accuses. “Are you stalking me?!”

Wow, rude. Sebastian scoffs. “You’re not interesting enough to stalk, Princess. I’m here for an oil change.” Kurt’s gaze hardens.

“Yes, and you just happened to get an ‘oil change’ where I work. Of all the places.”

“How was I supposed to know you worked here? We’ve only had like one conversation.”

“My last name is literally on the damn sign!” Kurt points to the sign at the front of the store and sure enough-

Oh. Okay yeah, he’s right. Truth be told, Sebastian hadn’t been paying much attention to where he was going, but there’s no way he can admit that to Kurt. Especially not when he’s being this bitchy. Bitchier than usual..

The phone rings again, saving him from answering and he watches with rapt fascination as Kurt, who had just been chewing him out, puts on a cheery face and answers “Hummel Tire and Lube.” It’s as impressive as it is creepy. The guy could be an actor if singing doesn’t work out for him. “No, he’s not available right now. What can I help you with?” Sebastian strains to listen and can just make out some man asking “Oh, are you his wife?” and bites in a laugh. Kurt rolls his eyes, but still says in the same cheery tone, “No, this is his son. What can I help you with?” Kurt grabs a notepad and starts writing things down, grunting his acknowledgements until he finally ends it with “Okay, we can fit you in tomorrow, how does that sound?” A pause. “Great! Thank you, John, we’ll see you then!”

And then he practically slams the phone down with a sigh and leaves from behind the desk to go out into the garage. Sebastian can see him talking to Jim from earlier through the window but can’t hear anything and then he comes back in, going behind the desk again to type something up. “Do you want some coffee?” Kurt asks disinterestedly, without looking away from his computer.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow at the small coffee station. “Is it any good?”

Kurt huffs. “Not really. But you’re welcome to it anyway.”

It doesn’t seem like Kurt’s in a chatty mood and he’s bored, so he picks out one of the little Keurigs, a caramel flavor and pops it in, pushing the button.

The muffled noise outside gets louder as a big, burly dude goes up to the desk. “Hey, Kurt, your Navigator is finished.”

“Great!” Kurt responds. “Do you have my keys?”

The guy fishes the keys to what Sebastian’s assuming is Kurt’s car out of his pocket and sets them on the desk.

Kurt smiles, the first genuine one he’s shown since Sebastian’s known him. “Thanks for doing that for me, Stanley.”

“Sure thing. Gotta head out now. The wife’s waitin’ up for me.”

“Of course. See you tomorrow.”

So Kurt works here, but he has other guys fix his car? He’s a little disappointed but not surprised. And here he was thinking Kurt was more than just the stereotype he acts like.

He pours some sugar in his coffee until it’s passable and then strolls back to the desk.

“So, you have all the boys do the dirty work for you while you run the desk?” he asks, trying to keep the judgment out of his tone.

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Someone has to be back here or else nothing will ever get done.”

“It’s okay, I know you’re probably just afraid of breaking a nail,” he jokes.

Kurt stiffens and he immediately wants to take it back. He hadn’t even meant to hit a nerve, but his mouth got away from him. They aren’t friendly enough to joke like that yet.

“You really couldn’t resist, could you?” Kurt’s voice is icy, controlled. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t actually change.”

Kurt didn’t hit him, didn’t touch him at all, but he might as well have. He flinches away.

“I didn’t mean-“

“Whatever. You have the Audi, right? Should be done in a few minutes.”

He won’t even look at him now and that’s somehow worse than being angry. For once, he actually wasn’t trying to hurt his feelings.

“I’m sorry,” he manages to say with a little bit of effort. “It was a bad joke, that’s all.”

Kurt narrows his eyes skeptically like he’s waiting for the punchline. It’s a little hurtful, but considering his track record, completely fair.

“I know you think it’s just a joke, and so does everyone else, but when you’ve been the punchline for basically your whole life, it stops being funny. I’m a guy and I’m tired of being treated like I’m not.”

He puts his hands up in surrender. “Got it. Won’t happen again.”

Kurt doesn’t say anything to that, but he thinks atleast for now, the crisis is averted.

“I’m sorry, too.” Sebastian gives him a confused look and he clarifies, “For snapping, I mean. I’ve just been feeling extra…sensitive recently.”

In the past, Sebastian would’ve taken this opportunity to insinuate that Kurt was PMS-ing and then delight in the cold look of vitriol he would get, but he’s different now. He wants to be different. He doesn’t want to get enjoyment from making Kurt, or anyone else, miserable anymore.

Instead he just asks, “Rough week?”

Kurt gives a tight-lipped smile. “Something like that.”

The door opens again and it’s the stupidly tall kid from their Glee club. He works here too? Oh wait, they’re brothers, right?

“Hey Kurt!” Teen Titan lumbers over. “Do you have the part for that Ford?” Kurt rifles through a drawer and hands it off to him. “Thanks.” And then he notices him, and his face darkens. “What the hell is he doing here?”

Kurt raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “The same thing as everyone else who comes here. Getting his car fixed.”

“Yeah, right. Did he threaten you? I can totally take 'im.” I would love to see you try, buddy.

“He didn’t threaten me, Finn, and I can take care of myself!” he snaps, “Now stop harassing me and do your job so we can go home!”

Finn pouts. “Just because you’re fighting with Blaine doesn’t mean you gotta take it out on me. I’m just tryin’ to help.”

Sebastian leans forward in interest. Kurt and Blaine are fighting? Why? Not that he has any right to ask. But atleast that explains why he’s in a bad mood.

Kurt sighs like he’s mustering all the patience he has, which in his opinion, is an impressive amount. “I’m sorry for yelling. Sebastian’s just here for an oil change, there’s nothing to worry about. Now can you please go finish up the Focus? Janet’s picking it up tomorrow morning.”

“Got it. I’ll be done in like 20 minutes.”

“Thank you.”

Finn goes back outside and it’s just Sebastian and Kurt alone again. He wants to ask. He’s dying to ask. But it’s none of his business and Kurt probably wouldn’t tell him anyway. Based off earlier, Kurt would probably think he’s up to no good again.

“I can see you twitching over there,” Kurt calls him out dryly, “Go ahead and ask.”

This sounds like a trap. Is it a test? If he asks, Kurt will assume he just wants to steal Blaine. Which may have been true months ago, but not so much now. He decides for a different approach. He’s gonna play dumb.

“Ask about what?”

Kurt pauses, giving him an unreadable look. For a moment, it seems like he’s gonna explain everything unprompted, but then his face closes up into something neutral.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” And then he nods to the window. “I think your car’s done.”

At that moment, Jim walks in carrying his keys. “It’s a nice car. Well taken care of.”

He preens at that. He does pride himself in taking care of his things. “Thank you.”

“Well, you’re all set. Kurt will check you out.”

Kurt’s already typing something on the computer when Sebastian notices the certificate hanging on the wall.

Kurt Hummel, Certified Technician

So he is more than he lets on.

“You just got an oil change, right?” And Sebastian locks his eyes back with Kurt’s who looks vaguely smug, almost like he knows exactly where his thought process just was.

“Yeah. And the coffee.”

“The coffee’s free,” Kurt responds wryly. He holds his hand out. “$73.50.”

Sebastian scrunches his brow. “For an oil change?”

“Yes, it’s synthetic oil.” Seeing that he’s still hesitant, Kurt says in a softer tone, “I’m not ripping you off. I can show you the price tag if you don’t believe me.”

“No, it’s-,” I never knew how much oil changes were. “I believe you, it’s fine.”

“Okay. Cash or card?”

He hands over his dad’s credit card. Kurt swipes it quickly, printing off some paper and handing him a pen.

“Here. Just sign this and you’re good to go.”

He signs it blankly, letting his mind wander. He didn’t know Kurt was a mechanic, didn’t know how much oil changes were. What else has he been ignorant about while he goofed off and made an ass of himself?

“Alright, you’re set.” Kurt gave him a tight, almost sympathetic smile. “Drive safe, Sebastian.”

“You too,” he mutters stupidly, but stops himself before he reaches the door. “Maybe next time I need an oil change, I could just have you do it.”

“Maybe.” And then he smirks. “But I seriously doubt you’ll get the chance unless you plan on putting 8000 miles on that beauty before August.”

That’s right, Kurt is graduating. It’s easy to forget that he’s a whole grade above him when they’re interacting like regular human beings who don’t wanna kill each other.

“Yeah, not a chance. I don’t like you enough to do that,” he says without thinking.

Thankfully, Kurt doesn’t get offended this time and just snorts. “Yeah, I figured. Bye!”

He waves and heads back to his Audi, relishing in how the engine purrs when he starts it.

As he drives home, he allows his mind to wander. That last interaction with Kurt had been almost friendly. Maybe being nice isn’t so bad. Dr. Joe would be proud of him.

It isn’t until he’s in his dorm room he realizes he never did find out why Kurt and Blaine were fighting…

Maybe he could ask next time. Assuming there is one.

Chapter Text

Just like he figured, Kurt didn’t get any solos for Nationals. He’s barely even featured at all. Two years ago, he would’ve fought it, but he’s past the point of caring. He did well on his audition (Madame Tibideaux actually praised him!), and in a few months he can get out of Lima and never look back. One Nationals performance won’t change that outcome.

He checks his phone. It’s already 6:30. He really should head out soon, but it’s pouring rain outside. His dad wouldn’t want him to drive in this.

At that moment, a crack of lightning comes, and his surroundings go dark. Well, so much for that. There isn’t much he can do about his homework with no light and his laptop is dead. I’ll just drive slow.

It’s as he gathers his things he notices someone in the corner, curled up in a ball and shaking. They’re wearing a Dalton blazer. Is that-?

“Sebastian?” he calls out softly.

The trembling stops for a moment and the boy lifts his head just slightly.

“Fuck. Of course it would be you.”

Kurt frowns. He wants to be offended, but if the situation was reversed, he wouldn’t want Sebastian to see him like that either. What should he do? Sebastian isn’t exactly his friend. Hell, he hasn’t seen him since that day a couple weeks ago when he got the oil change. But he knows what a panic attack looks like and he knows if it was him, he wouldn’t want to be alone.

His decision made, he sits down carefully next to him, making sure not to touch him or do anything that would spook him.

Sebastian gives him a mistrustful look, eyes slightly red though it’s hard to tell in the dark. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” he says dismissively. Exactly what Kurt himself would probably say, which is how he knows it’s a complete lie.

“You don’t look fine.”

“Look, it’s not your problem so I don’t need your pity,” Sebastian spits out. So he’s the type to lash out when upset. Why am I not surprised?

“It’s not pity, Sebastian,” he explains dryly, “It’s compassion. You should try it sometime.”

Sebastian scoffs. “Whatever. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Kurt shrugs. “Okay. You don’t have to.”

And true to his word, he doesn’t. They both just sit there in silence, but after a while Sebastian’s trembling does go down and he just rests his head against the wall, drained. This is the quietest he’s ever been in all the interactions Kurt’s had with him and that’s a testament to how shaken he clearly was.

It’s another few minutes of silence, the sound of the rain outside letting down and he can feel himself start to nod off when the voice from next to him asks quietly, “So did you and Blaine work it out?”

He jolts back to focus, lifting his head. “Excuse me?”

Sebastian clenches his jaw. “Your giant brother said you were fighting.” As if that explains why he’s asking about it now, weeks later, completely out of the blue.

“Yes, we were,” he responds slowly. He really doesn’t wanna talk about him and Blaine’s relationship troubles with Sebastian, of all people. He didn’t even really wanna talk about it with anyone, but that blew up in his face when Blaine decided to tell everyone instead, which he’s still trying not to be resentful about. “We worked it out,” he finds himself saying instead.

“He’s still a junior, right? Same as me?”

Kurt narrows his eyes. “Yes.”

“So what, are you gonna break up after you graduate?”

He’s getting a little too nosey now. “For someone who didn’t wanna talk earlier, you seem to have no problem prying into my business.” And then adds “And no, actually, we were planning on doing long-distance. Sorry to disappoint.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You realize I stopped caring about him months ago, right?”

“Then what difference does it make to you what happens in our relationship?”

“It doesn’t, really, I’m just kinda surprised he’s lasted this long. And that he’s willing to do long-distance.”

Kurt freezes. Lasted this long. What does that-?

“What do you mean by that?”

Sebastian averts his eyes, like he realizes he said too much. “Nothing, sorry. Forget about it.”

But Kurt’s not letting it go this time. “Oh no, you don’t get to take it back. What did you mean by him ‘lasting this long’?”

“You’re not gonna like what I have to say.”

“You don’t care what I like, so just say it.”

“That’s not-" he tries to argue, but Kurt glares at him. He sighs, “Fine. I thought he would’ve broken up with you by now. Happy?”

Kurt was prepared to not like it, but it still hurt. It’s not like he hasn’t had those thoughts himself. And he already knows how Sebastian feels about it, so why did he even ask? Did he think the opinion would change just because Sebastian isn’t actively trying to make him miserable anymore?

“Because he’s too good for me, right?” he echoes back bitterly.

“Actually, no, I said that to be an asshole. You’re not that bad.”

“Thanks for the winning endorsement. So if it’s not because of me, then why?”

He shrugs. “You just seem way more invested than he is. That day you saw us at the Lima Bean, that wasn’t the first time me and Blaine had gone out.”

Kurt flinches. That meeting is still a sore subject. “I know that.” he grits out.

“It was also the first time he’d even mentioned you at all. I don’t really like going after guys with boyfriends. It’s never ended well for me.”

Is he for real?

“That’s funny because I seem to recall you blatantly hitting on my boyfriend right in front of me.”

“Yeah, I did do that. But it wasn’t because I was trying to steal him. I’d already moved on at that point.”

“Then why did you? Just to piss me off?”

“Partially.” Kurt gives him a look of disbelief, but Sebastian’s face is painfully blank. “I mostly just wanted to see how far he was willing to let me go.”

“Those were ‘family friendly’!”, Blaine’s voice rang in his head.

“You texted him a lot,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. “They weren’t very platonic, were they?”

Sebastian scoffs. “What do you think?”

He already had a suspicion, but it doesn’t hurt any less having it confirmed. “If it makes you feel any better,” Sebastian says, “He never really contributed much.”

That does make him feel marginally better, but the thought that Sebastian, Sebastian who’s cultured and good-looking and everything Kurt isn’t, was sexting him for months still makes him feel a bit nauseous. What if Chandler had done that? Would Kurt have stopped him? He thinks he absolutely would.

“Why are you telling me this now?” he asks, slightly defeated. What good does it do to beat this horse again? He’s graduating in a month.

Sebastian shrugs. “Figured you had the right to know. And I kinda owe you.”

“Owe me for what?”

Sebastian’s gaze is piercing. “Giving me a chance.”

A part of him is regretting that now. “I did what anyone would’ve done.”

“I wouldn’t.”

‘I did what any decent person would’ve done’ is what Kurt wants to say. But that doesn’t really apply to Sebastian anymore, does it? Yeah, telling someone ‘Hey, your bf isn’t all that into you because he never told me to lay off’ is kinda fucked up, but well…what about his life isn’t? He’s sitting on the floor of a coffee shop with a guy who tried to steal his boyfriend and almost blinded said boyfriend and that’s one of the more normal things that’s happened to him.

“It stopped raining,” Sebastian says blankly. Kurt notices out the window and it did indeed stop raining. “You don’t have to stick around anymore.”

Sebastian seems to be alright now, but he still looks a little pale, and the weariness in his voice halts something in him.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” he asks.

Sebastian furrows his brow. “Not really.”

“Let’s go get something to eat,” he offers, standing up.

Sebastian stares at him like he has two heads. “Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No. You look pale, like you haven’t eaten, and I’m pretty hungry, so let’s go.”

Kurt is half-convinced Sebastian’s gonna laugh in his face. He’s sure he probably would’ve in this situation but the boy just rolls his eyes and stands. “Fine.”

It’s a struggle getting Sebastian to agree to drive with him and then come back for his own car later. For whatever reason, Kurt doesn’t want him to drive, especially not alone. He’s holding on a pretty good front, but Kurt can tell his mind is still not all there.

“So, where are we going?” Sebastian drawls.

“Frank’s.” And when he gets a blank look in response, he clarifies, “He’s a friend of my dad’s. He makes these incredible wings, probably the best I’ve ever had.”

“I’m surprised you’re willing to eat something like that.”

Kurt stiffens. He already doesn’t like where this is going. “Why?” he asks cautiously.

“Because you’re so-“ but then he pauses, eyes widening as he comes to terms with what he was about to say.

“So…what?” he asks nonchalantly, but with a hint of danger. Tread carefully, Smythe. You’re in my car.

Sebastian doesn’t say anything for a solid minute, his face flushing in embarrassment and Kurt taps the steering wheel impatiently. So prissy. So vain. He’s heard it all before.

“You just look like you take good care of yourself,” is the answer he finally gets and he blinks in surprise. That’s…not the answer he was expecting. It’s a nice save. A little too nice.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to compliment me.”

“Good thing you know better then.” He’s beginning to question how true that is. The past few conversations he’s had with this guy have been…weirdly illuminating. He pulls into a gravel-filled parking lot in front of a dingy red building. Sebastian gives him a skeptical, slightly panicked look, but doesn’t say anything.

“I know how it looks,” he says in defense, “But looks can be deceiving.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to figure that out.” He’s looking straight at him when he says it and it feels…loaded. It makes him squirm.

“Well, we should head in. You still have to drive 2 hours home after this.”

“One.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s the weekend so I only have to drive one hour.”

Ahh, so he lives between here and Westerville then. But what’s the point in telling him this? It doesn’t really change the outcome.

No sooner did they walk in the door than a deep voice calls out, “Is that Kurt Hummel?”

Kurt whips around and waves sheepishly. “Hey, Frank.”

Frank tackles him in a bear hug. “What’s goin’ on, kid? Last time I saw ya, you were only this tall” and he puts his hands down to his chest as an example.

Kurt rolls his eyes fondly. “You only saw me a few months ago, Frank.”

“Yeah, and you got taller again. How’s your old man? Haven’t seen ‘im in a while.”

“Well, he’s in DC right now and he’s been busy.”

“Yeah? Last time he was here, he told me you were watching his diet with an iron fist.”

He rolls his eyes again. “Well, excuse me for not wanting my father to have another heart attack.”

“Yeah, yeah, how’s his health? Doin’ good?”

“Yeah, he’s great.”

“Good, good.” And then Frank looks to Sebastian next to him, who looks a mix of amused and confused. “Who’s this? You finally get yourself a boyfriend?”

Sebastian looks like he’s about to say something rude, so Kurt cuts him off. “Just a friend who needs some cheering up.”

“Well, you came to the right place.” Then he nods at Sebastian. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Sebastian.”

Frank eyeballs his uniform. “A rich boy, huh?” He winks at him. “Good job, Kurt.”

Kurt sighs, “I told you, he’s not-" Why is he defending himself? “Whatever. Can we just have the usual?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll leave you two alone. Don’t even think of payin’ though, this is on me.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I’m gonna. Just don’t tell your old man or he might kill me for spoilin’ you.”

“He’d kill me first for coming here without him,” Kurt mutters.

He hears Sebastian snort from next to him and can’t help but feel a little pride. Atleast it already seems like he’s feeling better.

They sit down at the bar counter, which isn’t packed yet.

Sebastian looks around him curiously, no air of smugness about him at all as he takes it all in. “There’s more people than I thought there would be here.”

“Frank does pretty well for himself. Him and my dad have been friends since college.”

“And he knows you’re gay.”

Kurt huffs. “Yeah, well, it’s not like I’ve ever been subtle about it. My dad apparently knew when I was three and asked for a pair of ‘sensible heels’.” He realizes too late he just handed his former enemy fuel against him, but surprisingly he doesn’t even bat an eyelash.

“Why’s your dad in DC? I thought he was a mechanic.”

“He is…and also a congressman, as of January.”

Sebastian looks lost for a minute and then his eyes light up in recognition. “Oh, Burt Hummel. I remember now. My dad voted for him.”

“Oh.” He’s not sure why that information surprises him. Sebastian’s never spoken of his parents, except to brag for clout, so maybe he assumed they aren’t close.  “Well, remind me to thank your dad.” Are you planning on meeting his dad at some point, Kurt?

Frank comes back with a basket and Kurt is already inwardly salivating. “Here you are, boys. A Hummel favorite. A basket of 20, Smoky BBQ, drums only.”

And he slides the basket over to them.

“Thank you, Frank.”

Sebastian is looking at the food inquisitively like he isn’t sure what to make of it. “What, have you never had wings before?”

Sebastian grimaces. “Uhh, I grew up in Paris, so no.”

Oh, he totally has to grill him about that later. Paris? Seriously? “Sounds like I made a good choice then. Trust me, once you’ve had these, you’ll never want anyone else’s. Go on!”

In response, Sebastian grabs his phone, hovering it over the plate and Kurt hears a shutter sound. Is he one of those foodie types on Instagram? Interesting...He doesn’t wanna rush what no doubt is a completely new experience for the other boy but he also is starving.

Sebastian grabs a drum and takes a bite and Kurt waits with bated breath. “That…doesn’t taste like anything I’ve ever had before. Its good. I like it.” He points at the sauce. “What’s that? Smells like bleu cheese.”

“That’s because it is. You can dip the wings in it if you want. I do.” He does and gives a solemn nod of approval, which is…kind of dorky and almost endearing. “Great, you’ve tried it now. Scoot over before I start to confuse you for a wing.”

They don’t talk much once they start eating, but it’s not uncomfortable. Blaine hates sitting in silence, but Kurt doesn’t mind it. There’s no point in letting food get cold just for pointless small talk.

“So, how come you’ve never brought Blaine here?”

Sebastian asks out of the blue while Kurt is mid-wing. He takes a minute to swallow because he may be starving but he still has manners.

“What makes you think I haven’t?” he asks mildly defensive.

“Frank didn’t ask about him. And he didn’t know you have a boyfriend. So I’m assuming they haven’t met.”

The way Sebastian can get so much information from such small, meaningless things is…unnerving. He’d make a great lawyer. Must be his dad’s influence.

“I tried to, once. Pulled into the parking lot, he saw how shady it looked, and he was so uncomfortable with it we ended up just going to Breadstix instead. Didn’t really try again after that.” He’s not really sure why he’s telling him this. Maybe it’s because Sebastian himself has been so accommodating, even humoring him by letting him drag him here. And why do all their conversations end up circling back to Blaine?

“Well, he’s missing out. Can’t really blame him for being uncomfortable though because I kind of thought you brought me here to murder me when we first pulled in.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Please, if I wanted to murder you, I wouldn’t take you in the middle of Lima where there would be witnesses.”

Sebastian huffs a laugh. “So, are you saying you actually don’t wanna murder me?”

“3 months ago, yes,” he admits. “You were insufferable. Not so much, now. Now you’re…” he pauses, unsure of what to say. ‘Pleasant’ doesn’t really seem to fit. Not yet. “…tolerable.”

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head. It’s already big enough.”

It’s well past 9 when he drops Sebastian back off at the Lima Bean where his Audi is. The shop closed 2 hours ago so the parking lot is deserted.

“Well, I think I’ve held you hostage long enough,” he tries to joke, but it falls flat since Sebastian doesn’t react. Instead, he looks pensive. Kurt’s half-afraid he’s gonna ask him some weirdly personal questions again.

“Thanks.”

He smiles. “Well, it was Frank that paid.”

“I’m not talking about the food.”

Thanks for making sure I was okay, are the unspoken words. And he only knows this because he lived it. Still lives it. How many times has he wished he could say that to someone? His mother told him when he was young to be the kind of friend he would want for himself. He thinks he’s finally getting what she meant by it.

“You’re welcome.”

And he makes sure Sebastian is safe in his car and driving away before he officially goes home.

He doesn’t notice the missed call from Blaine until he’s already in bed.

Chapter Text

Sebastian is sitting in the wings at the Dalton graduation. As a Warbler, he was required to perform and so far, it’s been pretty boring. Thad, David, and Jon are some of the Warblers graduating and even though he isn’t particularly close with them, especially not after the slushie incident where all 3 of them, David in particular, iced him out, he can shamefully admit he might actually miss them. Still doesn’t mean he wants to be at this boring graduation though.

“Hey, Sebastian,” Speaking of Thad…He gives a curious look to him. “It’s over. You can head home.”

He rolls his eyes. “Thanks.” And then hops out of the stiff chair he had been sitting in.

“Wait.” He spins around, an eyebrow raised. Thad looks mildly sheepish, maybe even nervous. “There’s a Warbler graduation party tonight at my house. You’re more than welcome to come.”

Well, isn’t this a surprise. He’s never been invited to any of their get-togethers. “Is everyone else okay with that?”

Thad shrugs. “It’s my party, so they can get over it if they’re not.” He’s a little confused. Thad seems to notice this, so he clears his throat. “Look, since the incident with that Karofsky guy, you’ve kept your word. You haven’t caused any trouble and you’ve been a great team player. It wouldn’t really be fair to hold a grudge forever.”

He snorts, and says without thinking, “You sound like Kurt.”

Thad furrows his brow. “Do I? Wait- when have you talked to Kurt?”

It’s not like he’s trying to keep his meetings with Kurt a secret, necessarily, but he just doesn’t think it’s anyone’s business. The Warblers gossip more than his grandmother and he doesn’t want it getting back to Blaine somehow. But it looks like the cat’s out of the bag.

“I saw him a while ago at the coffee shop. I apologized and he forgave me. Said ‘if someone’s willing to change then I’m willing to listen’. He’s weird.”

Thad laughs. “Yeah, that sounds like Kurt. He’s a good kid. He wasn’t here long, so I didn’t get much of a chance to get to know him. He was kind of quiet. Sweet, but quiet.”

'Quiet' is not a word he would use to describe Kurt Hummel. He knows Kurt’s been through a lot, he even learned on their food adventure that his dad has health issues and Kurt’s more concerned about it than he lets on, but now he wonders why Kurt was even at Dalton at all, and why he left, taking Blaine with him.

He decides to play dumb. “Oh, I didn’t know Kurt was at Dalton.”

“Really? No one told you? Yeah, he competed in Sectionals and Regionals with us last year, but then went back to McKinley.”

“Why would he wanna go back? Public schools are the worst.”

Thad purses his lips. “Dunno. He never talked about himself much, and I never really asked questions. I don’t think he ever really liked it here, so maybe he just missed his friends.” Sebastian doesn’t respond, letting this all sink in. Is Kurt really that cagey or did no one just ever bother to check on him? Thad takes his silence as an end to the conversation and slaps his back. “Well, the party starts at 8.  I can text you the address.”

“Got it,” he responds distantly.

As he gets in his car and sets up his playlist, he starts heading towards Lima. He now has a new mission.

The spirits must be on his side today, not that he’s ever believed in something like that, because Kurt’s Navigator is parked outside the Lima Bean. He just hopes it’s still on his side and Blaine isn’t here too. He doesn’t see Blaine’s car, but they could’ve driven together. He’s honestly surprised he’s managed to catch Kurt so many times on his own. Before shit hit the fan, it always seemed like the two were a package deal.

The Lima Bean isn’t as packed as usual, but he doesn’t see any sign of Kurt anywhere. Huh, did he leave with someone else? He tries not to be too disappointed by that, not because of Kurt but because he wasted gas driving here for nothing, but he should use the bathroom since the water he brought with him went right through him.

No sooner than he steps in, he sees Kurt standing by the sink. And he’s crying. He freezes. He’s never seen Kurt cry before. Even back when he saw him as an obstacle and brutally insulted him, Kurt would just give it back as good as he got. Even when Blaine got injured in front of him, not a single tear. But now?

His eyes are red and puffy, which means he’s been crying for a while. He wouldn’t call himself a ‘Kurt-expert’ or anything, they’re barely even acquaintances, but he can only think of two reasons Kurt might look so devastated.

1. Him and Blaine broke up
2. Something happened to his dad.

The petty part of him hopes it’s not the 2^nd one. Kurt’s dabbing at his eyes with a wet paper towel and finally notices him in the mirror. He mutters something under his breath that Sebastian is sure is some type of swear.

“I’m almost completely convinced you’re stalking me at this point,” he tries to say in his usual haughty manner, but it falls a bit flat.

Sebastian frowns. Kurt’s curling into himself like a caged animal and he really doesn’t know what to do. He’s not good with crying people, and he doesn’t know Kurt well enough to determine how he’d react.

Kurt interprets his silence as something else. “Am I in your way?” he steps away from the sink. “Sorry.”

He sounds so normal that Sebastian would almost believe he’d imagined him crying if it wasn’t for how red his eyes are.

What to do…he does need to use the restroom, but by the time he gets out, Kurt could be gone. He’s gotta get him to wait for him somehow, but they’re not good enough friends for him to just ask.

He fishes out his wallet, handing Kurt a ten.

“Can you buy me a coffee? You can get yourself something too. You look like you need it.”

Kurt gives him a flat look and Sebastian immediately knows he made the right decision.

“What am I, your intern?” he scoffs. “I don’t even know your coffee order.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “It’s fine. Just get me the sweetest thing on the menu. And then add a shot of Courvoisier.”

Kurt cocks his head. “They have Courvoisier here?”

“They do now, since I bought it for them.” And then he waves his fingers in a way he knows will piss him off. “Now run along.”

He hears a muttered “You’re such a jerk” as Kurt leaves and smirks to himself. Crying Kurt he can’t handle, but a Kurt who’s annoyed with him he definitely can.

Kurt’s looking more put together when he gets out and he practically shoves his coffee cup in his chest with an eye roll, and Sebastian wonders if he miscalculated. Kurt wouldn’t try to poison him, right?

“What is it?” he asks cautiously.

“Exactly what you asked for.”

Well, no time like the present. He takes a sip and almost cringes at how ridiculously sweet it is. Kurt notices and has a smug look. “It’s a white chocolate mocha with 4 shots of caramel, sweetened almond milk, and 4 packs of sugar.”

And judging by how proud he sounds of himself, the extra sugar and caramel was done intentionally to spite him.

“So, you’re trying to give me a heart attack, is that it?” he asks dryly. Kurt’s face dims a tiny bit and Sebastian backtracks. His dad had a heart attack, you asshole!

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“It’s fine.” Kurt waves dismissively. “It was almost two years ago.”

He should change the subject. “So, when’s your graduation?”

“It was last week, actually, but I came back today for one last glee practice to say goodbye.”

So is that why he was crying? Because he’ll miss his friends?

“Dalton’s was today,” he offers, for lack of anything else to say.

“Oh, that’s nice.” This is awkward. Why are they making small talk? He hates small talk. And judging by the pained look on his face, Kurt’s not a fan either. Why did he come down here anyway?

“He wasn’t here long, so I didn’t get much of a chance to get to know him.”

He clenches his jaw in resolve, grabs Kurt’s arm and then marches through the door.

It’s when they’re outside that Kurt wrenches his arm free, scandalized. “Don’t just grab me! What the hell is wrong with you?”

He ignores that question. “Come with me.”

“What?!”

“To the graduation.”

Kurt makes no motions to move and he groans inwardly. Kurt made it seem so easy last time, why’s he so bad at this?

Maybe he should lie some more.

“Look, Thad talked to me earlier and he said he missed you.”

Kurt looks skeptical. “I barely even know Thad. Last time I saw him, he was helping you try to slushie me with rock salt.”

Ouch. Okay, so that didn’t work.

Different tactic. “He wants to apologize. So, c’mon.”

“If he wants to apologize, he can find me on Facebook. I’m not driving all the way to Westerville.”

“You don’t have to, I’ll drive. Do you have anything else you need to do?” Before he can respond, he adds snidely, “And crying in a coffee shop doesn’t count.”

Kurt glares at him and somehow Sebastian knows, if his eyes could shoot lasers, he’d be dust. Kurt glares at him so long that Sebastian’s ready to cut his losses when he finally gets a begrudging, “Fine.”

Kurt stalks over to his passenger seat and slides in, arms crossed in resignation. He looks like a little kid and Sebastian rolls his eyes, going into his own seat, to start the engine.

“This is Katzkin leather,” he hears an awed whisper, his new passenger feeling the seat with his hands and Sebastian tries not to brag. His momentary distraction doesn’t mean Kurt’s not still in a bitchy mood.

The first hour of the ride is silent, with Kurt just staring out the window, a blank look on his face. Sebastian’s not exactly the chatty type, but this isn’t a relaxing kind of silence. Kurt looks like a string ready to snap at even the slightest provocation. Him and the Warblers apparently aren’t even friends and he seems to have some resentment, so maybe driving him down there is a bad idea. But no takebacks now. But why? Why aren’t Kurt and them friends? They competed in two competitions together so he was atleast there for around a semester. And no one seems to know or care why he left.

“So, why did you leave Dalton?” he asks.

Kurt looks guarded. “Why are you asking me this?”

He shrugs. “Just trying to make conversation.” Kurt gives him a weird look and he rolls his eyes. “And I think it’s weird that someone like you would leave Dalton for some trashy public school with teachers that can barely recite the alphabet.”

Kurt snorts and Sebastian will take that as a win. “What do you mean ‘someone like me’?”

Of course that’s the part he gets hung on. “Y’know, smart, ambitious,” and then to make sure Kurt doesn’t think he’s being too generous, “Snobby.”

Kurt gives him an unimpressed look. “Well, this might sound foreign to you, but not everyone has thousands of dollars to throw away at a private school.”

“Then why go at all? It’s pretty stupid to only go for one semester.”

Kurt gets a sad, distant look, jaw clenched. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Sebastian freezes. Didn’t have much of a choice…just like he didn’t have much of a choice in coming to Ohio.

“Did someone hurt you?” he asks quietly.

Kurt is silent for a long while and Sebastian can feel his heart dropping with every second.

“Not really,” Kurt says, deceptively light which is a sure sign he’s lying, “But my dad was afraid he would…or worse.”

He regrets bringing this up.

“So, he sent you to Dalton.”

Kurt nods, and he looks guilty. “He used the money he would’ve used for his honeymoon.”

He left what should've been a safe haven because of shame. Where would Kurt be now if he was still at Dalton? Would he be happy? Would he be competing with Sebastian for solos? He seems the type. Would him and Blaine be together? Maybe they’d be that power couple everyone envies. Would he still have gone after Blaine? Could him and Kurt have been friends? Without all the nastiness that came originally. So many possibilities.

He pulls into the address Thad gave him. Kurt looks around confused. “This doesn’t look like Dalton.”

“Yeah, I may have lied about that. We had our graduation this afternoon.”

“So, where are we?”

“Thad’s house. He’s having a Warbler graduation party.”

“Seriously? And you brought me here?”

“You were a Warbler once.”

“It doesn’t matter, you can’t just invite me over to someone else’s house.” And then he scoffs bitterly, “And it’s not like they ever considered me one of them, anyway.”

He didn’t wanna tell him this but…

“Look, I get that they apparently weren’t all that welcoming to you and that sucks, but I actually did talk to Thad earlier and he regrets not getting to know you better. I wasn’t lying about that. I don’t think he’ll mind that I brought you here, but if you’re miserable, then we can leave.”

“No, if I’m miserable, I can call a taxi. You shouldn’t have to go because of me.”

“I brought you here, and between you and me, most of them don’t like me anyway since I almost blinded their favorite Warbler.”

“Considering Dalton’s no bullying policy, I’m surprised you didn’t get expelled.”

“Having an attorney for a father does have it’s perks. It wasn’t on school grounds, and Blaine isn’t a student anymore.”

“So, you got off on a technicality.”

“Yeah.” He frowns. “I’m not proud of it, but…it is what it is. I would’ve been fucked if the Anderson’s had decided to press charges, though. My dad wasn’t gonna be able to save me from that.” And I don’t think he really wanted to.

Kurt squirms uncomfortably at the topic. “Should we go in?”

Sebastian freezes. If they go in together, it will be back to Blaine by the morning.

“Sebastian? What’s wrong?”

He didn’t think this through. “Okay, so here’s the deal. The Warblers gossip. A lot.”

Kurt snorts. “Believe me, I know. When me and Blaine got together, everyone was clapping and congratulating us within a day. We didn’t even tell anyone.”

“Right. So if they see us come together…”

“They’ll spread rumors and it’ll get back to Blaine.”

“Exactly. So, you just hang out here for a few minutes. I’m gonna go in first, and then you show up a few minutes later so it looks like you came on your own.”

“And how exactly am I gonna explain how I knew about a party I wasn’t even invited to?”

“Just make something up. You’re a good enough actor to pull off that much.”

“You think I’m a good actor?” Again with getting hung up on the weirdest things…what’s with this guy? Sebastian doesn’t respond but walks up to knock on the door while Kurt goes around the corner, out of sight.

Thad answers, eyebrows raised in surprise. “So you did make it! Why are you still in your uniform?”

“Had some things to take care of and didn’t really have time to go change.”

“Okay then. Well, you’re not too late. Trent, David, Jonn, and a bunch of underclassmen are here, but we’re still waiting on the others, including Jeff and Nick.” He points towards what Sebastian is assuming is the kitchen. “Drinks and snacks are in the kitchen. My older brother was nice enough to drop off some booze too, but don’t go too crazy.”

And it’s as he’s saying that he makes a beeline for the kitchen. It feels like it’s been forever since he’s had a beer.

He cracks open a Miller Lite immediately and starts to nurse it when a knock on the door catches his attention. That’s probably Kurt.

He pokes his head around the corner when Thad opens the door and sure enough…there Kurt is, looking a little awkward, but otherwise giving nothing away. Sebastian can’t really hear what he’s saying due to the music but he figures it’s atleast convincing because Thad lets him in, giving the same speech about the drinks as he gave to him.

Sebastian moves out of the way so Kurt doesn’t run into him.

“There’s alcohol here?” he hisses, quiet enough so Thad can’t hear.

“It’s a graduation party, Kurt, of course there’s alcohol. Is that a problem?” He takes another sip.

Kurt narrows his eyes. “Yes, that’s a problem. How the hell am I supposed to get home?”

“The same way you got here.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “I’m not letting you drive me home after you’ve been drinking, Sebastian.” He pinches his nose. “My car is still at the Lima Bean. My dad’s gonna kill me.”

His face is tightening like he wants to cry and Sebastian can’t have that. He already dealt with him crying once today.

“Okay, look, I brought you here so you could have fun, okay? Once I’m done with this, it’s all water from here. So just relax. Maybe have a couple drinks yourself.”

“I haven’t had the best experiences with that,” he tries to argue, but his tone is weak.

“I know you have no reason to trust me, or anyone here really, and I totally get that, but nothing bad’s gonna happen to you, alright? You’re just a high school graduate celebrating with a bunch of other high school graduates. So time to get the stick out of your ass and have some fun for once.”

Kurt gives him a flat look for that. “Fine. Hand me a beer.”

Sebastian gives him his own, delighting in the lip curl of disgust he gets. “You’re not gonna like it and it’s better if you don’t waste a whole beer.” And then as a joke he adds on, “Don’t worry, I got tested for Herpes yesterday.”

Kurt snorts, but takes the can, taking a small sip and immediately recoiling.

“Ugh. That tastes like unwashed dick. You really drink this?!”

Did he just say-? Did he just hear Kurt Hummel, bitchy, prudish Kurt Hummel compare his beer to an unwashed dick?! He barks out a laugh.

“What?”

“I can’t believe you said that!”

“What, dick?”

“Yeah.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “I’m 18 and gay, Sebastian. And I grew up with a bunch of mechanics. This really shouldn’t be that shocking.”

“Touché.” He grabs a Mike’s Hard Lemonade. “Here, you’ll probably like that better. It tastes like lemonade and you can probably have about 2 or 3 before you feel a buzz.”

Just as he’s about to offer a bottle opener, Kurt just pops it off with his hands. Huh. Didn’t think he could do that. It’s weirdly hot. He takes a sip and his face lights up. “Oh, that’s good.” And then he spots someone in the corner. “Oh, it’s Nick. I’m gonna go say hi.”

“Have fun, killer.”

He takes smaller sips from his beer, wanting to savor it. Especially since he promised he wouldn’t have more after this one. He watches Kurt out of the corner of his eye because he meant it when he said nothing bad was gonna happen to him. Atleast not on his watch. They seem to be getting along okay.

“Holy shit, is that Kurt?” He jumps out of his skin when Jeff comes behind him, draping an arm on his shoulder.

“Uh, yeah. Hey, Jeff.”

“Hey, Sebby. Man, I haven’t seen Kurtie in forever.” He whistles. “He looks good.”

“He has a boyfriend, Jeff,” Sebastian says tightly.

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Yeah, no shit, so do I, dude. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate. I’m gonna go say hi.”

And in true Jeff fashion, saying hi means jumping Kurt in a surprise hug, which Kurt doesn’t seem to know what to do with, but takes it well enough in stride. Well, that’s his cue to go out and mingle. Jeff may be an idiot, but if anyone can get Kurt to open up, it’s probably him.

He takes a last chug of his can and chucks it, filling up a glass of water to take with him.

“Hey, Sebastian!” Someone calls and he has to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

“David,” he responds tersely. He doesn’t care for David. Mostly because David never cared for him. Apparently, the crime of actually making them dance and not being Blaine can never be forgiven.

He walks past David to stand next to Trent, who also doesn’t like him, but atleast he’s easier to please.

“Better be careful, Sebastian. I heard that you-know-who’s here and Thad said he didn’t want any fights to break out.”

You-know-who? Is he talking about Kurt? Why not just say his name?

He rolls his eyes. “I already saw Kurt earlier.”

Trent double-takes. “Kurt’s here too? Damn. He never comes to Warbler functions.”

Gee, I wonder why.

“Well, did you guys ever invite him?”

Trent looks a little sheepish. “I think we all kind of just assumed that Blaine would.”

So now, the question is…why didn’t Blaine invite him?

His stomach growls. “I’m gonna go have some cake.”

“Oh, okay, sure.” Trent doesn’t really seem all that disappointed that he’s leaving and he tries not to be bitter about it. He sort of brought it on himself.

He starts cutting up a slice when a voice comes from behind him. A voice he didn’t expect at all even though he probably should’ve. “Hey, do you mind cutting the corner for me? Thanks.”

He turns and stares into the face of Blaine Anderson. Ahh, so Trent was talking about him.

Blaine grins, like they’re old chums and not like he’s someone who almost blinded him. “Oh, hey, Sebastian, it’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” he manages to choke out. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

Blaine cocks his head in a resemblance to a confused puppy. “Why wouldn’t I be here? Thad’s my friend.” And then his eyes dim. “Is there a problem with me being here?”

Yes. “No,” he lies. “How’s your eye?”

“It’s like nothing even happened. Water under the bridge.”

“That’s…good.” Please go away.

“So that explains why Kurt hasn’t answered his phone tonight,” Blaine changes the subject, nodding towards where Kurt is still chatting with Jeff and Nick, but they’ve moved to the couch, and Thad has joined them, along with some sophomores he never bothered to learn the names of. “How long has he been here?”

Quick, lie. “Uhh, he got here right after me, so maybe like- half an hour?”

Blaine’s eyes glaze over. “Oh. He never said anything about it. I wonder who invited him.”

What’s with this guy? Does he not want his own boyfriend here?

“What, you don’t want your boyfriend cramping your style?” he jokes.

Blaine blinks and his eyes are clear again. “What? No, nothing like that. I’m just surprised. Kurt’s never been close with any of the Warblers.” And then he leans forward like he’s sharing a dirty secret. “He has a hard time opening up to people, so it makes it hard for him to make friends.”

Sebastian finds that weirdly relatable. Not everyone needs to know his business. But the way Blaine says it is almost…dismissive. Like it’s not even worth trying simply because he’s not an open book. Is that what people think of him too?

He nods. “Well, he seems to be making friends just fine now.”

“Yeah…” he trails off. “Hey, is there soda?”

He points to the counter. “What, you’re not drinking?”

“Nah. Last time I got drunk, I…” his face darkens, “I did something I wasn’t proud of. So, I’m Designated Driver tonight for anyone who needs it.”

He wonders what Blaine could’ve done to have such a guilty look, but it’s really none of his business. He hands him his cup. “Pour me one too.” Blaine does and hands it back and he gives a tight grin, mimicking a toast. “To being sober.”

And right as they clink glasses, Kurt stands up to head to the kitchen, presumably to get another drink. It’s right as he enters the doorway his face lights up like a Christmas tree. Sebastian doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so happy.

“Blaine, you’re here!” He tackles his boyfriend in a hug.

Blaine laughs slightly, mildly out of breath. “I am. How much have you had to drink?”

“Not much.” Well, he isn’t slurring yet. “’Bout to grab my 3^rd one actually.”

“Okay, fine, but that’s the last one, okay?”

Kurt rolls his eyes fondly. “Okay, Dad.” He grabs another bottle with one hand and Blaine’s arm with the other. “C’mon, Nick and Jeff were just asking about you.”

And soon enough, Sebastian is alone again in the kitchen. Well, if Blaine’s Designated Driver, then he can probably drive his own boyfriend home. He cracks open another beer.

He’s lying on the couch, not entirely sure how many drinks he’s had. 6? Maybe 7? Too many judging by how the room is spinning. He doesn’t even know how he got here. He vaguely remembers Thad announcing karaoke, Blaine had tried to duet with him because “We were both Captain of the Warblers. Imagine how amazing we’d sound” and then duetting with Kurt instead after he said no. Other than that, it’s a blur.

Thad kneels in front of him. “You should probably stay here tonight, Sebastian.”

“Yeah, probably,” he mumbles. And then he remembers how he got here in the first place and he sits up, fast enough to make him woozy. “Wait, no, I can’t-“

“If this is about Kurt, him and Blaine already left an hour ago.”

He stiffens. “How did you-?”

“You were asking about Kurt earlier after the graduation. Then he magically shows up here only a few minutes after you? C’mon, man, give me some credit.”

He flops down to the couch. “Fuck. Does Blaine know?”

“Well, I didn’t tell him, if that’s what you’re asking. Though he seemed pretty confused on how Kurt got here.”

Sebastian doesn’t respond, just covering his face with his arm. Thad continues, “Look, I don’t really know why you think you have to keep it a secret. They both forgave you, but that’s between you and them.”

The beer must be making him honest because he says, “I don’t think I deserve forgiveness from either of them.”

Thad pats his shoulder sympathetically. “Well, that’s not really up to you. But hey, I am glad you brought him.”

Sebastian peeks from under his elbow. “Really?”

“Yeah. Turns out we’re not all that different. Apparently, he makes some mean cookies.” Sebastian doesn’t know what to say to that. What can he say? Thad doesn’t take offense though as he just continues talking. “Y’know, and hopefully you’ll remember this tomorrow, I put a good word in for you to Nick, Jeff, and Trent about making you captain again next year.”

His breath hitches. “Thanks.”

“Get some sleep, Sebastian. I left some clothes for you on the table.”

It’s when Thad leaves that he’s able to breathe. The beer on his mouth tastes vile. He should be happy. Kurt loosened up and had fun, probably went home to have even more fun with his boyfriend, and he got his position back.

Those are all good things. But they feel so hollow.

He’d brought Kurt here against his will and then proceeded to get wasted once Blaine showed up. If the situation was reversed, Kurt would’ve made sure he was taken care of to the end. But he couldn’t even manage that. He didn’t even know Kurt left until an hour after the fact. After promising him he’d make sure nothing bad happened to him.

He’s so shitty.

Objectively, he knows Kurt’s more than safe with Blaine. Blaine wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone his boyfriend.

It doesn’t make him feel any better.

Chapter Text

In terms of jobs, the Lima Bean isn’t the worst he could’ve chosen. It’s fairly simple, the hours are decent, and his boss isn’t a homophobe, atleast not outwardly, which is a plus. But as the summer turns into Fall and he sees all his friends off to go to their respective colleges, he can’t help feeling a little bitter. Not even Finn’s around to make him feel better about this, and Sam’s been pretty mopey himself, having to repeat his senior year.

Every time he sees a Cheerios uniform or a Letterman jacket, he’s reminded at what he failed to do. Maybe if he’d rejoined the Cheerios last year and taken Nationals again, things might’ve turned out different.

Mornings are usually pretty busy, but he does light up a little when Blaine comes to the counter.

“Medium drip?” he asks knowingly.

“How did you know?” Blaine teases.

“Lucky guess.” He marks Blaine’s cup with a heart and slides it down to Lacy, his coworker. “That’ll be $4.12.”

Blaine hands him a five, winks, and says “Keep the change.” Always such a charmer.

“You’re in good spirits today,” he points out, since no one is waiting in line at the moment.

Blaine shrugs. “It’s Senior Year. I plan on making it count. Joining every club, applying for class president, I’m gonna try to see if I can convince Mr. Schuester to let me have lead too since Finn’s gone.”

Kurt nods along politely. And knowing Blaine, he can probably do all those things at once and then some. He tries not to be bitter. His failures aren’t Blaine’s fault. “Artie will probably want the same thing, so just watch out.” And Artie’s been there longer. But he doesn’t say that part out loud.

Blaine rolls his eyes. “I’m sure he will, but I think I have a little more to offer than he does.”

Kurt wants to ask him what he means by that, but-

“Medium drip!” Lacy calls from the other window.

“Well, that’s my cue,” Blaine grins. “We still on for tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

The rest of the shift is fairly uneventful. It’s just him and Lacy today. Lacy’s a sophomore at Lima Community College, but they get along okay. She’s self-proclaimed ‘bad at people’ so she usually makes all the drinks while he mans the register. It’s a system that works out for them.

“Hey, Kurt, I’m gonna take my break,” she tells him at around 2:30. It’s right before the after-school rush usually hits.

“Sure, no problem.”

The customers are usually pretty nice. Sure, he gets the occasional redneck asshole who will call him a slur, but that’s nothing he hasn’t gotten used to at this point, living in Lima, Ohio.

The bell chimes and he rolls his eyes at the usual entourage. Some blonde Cheerio with a huge chip on her shoulder, and her less than bright friends.

“Large iced latte, Medium hot chocolate, and a cinnamon bagel.” she orders without even so much as a greeting. In a way, she sort of reminds him of how Quinn used to be, pre-babygate.

“Sure. $9.89”

She shoves her card in his face with an eye roll and he resists the urge to throw it back at her. He forces a smile. “It’ll be about 5 minutes.”

“Whatever.” And she flounces over to a table in the middle, her drones following. He is so glad he isn’t in high school anymore. Sure, he may not be where he wants, but there’s always a silver lining.

Once he makes and calls out their drinks, he starts stocking the cups. It only takes a few minutes before blonde Cheerio approaches the counter again.

“My iced latte is too cold.”

She does this almost every day. It’s like a game to her. Maybe she’s hoping she can get the town gay to yell at her so he can lose his job.

“It’s an iced latte,” he reminds her for what feels like the millionth time.  

“And it’s too cold.”

Last time she did this, his manager had been watching and forced him to remake it. But today, Lacy’s acting Manager and she’s on break so he gives a sickeningly sweet smile.

“I can always put it in the microwave for you if you’d like.”

Blonde Cheerio raises an eyebrow, like she isn’t sure whether he’s serious or not. When he doesn’t look away, she finally averts her eyes. “Nevermind. You would just ruin it more.”

That’s what I thought, bitch.

With her out of the way, he’s able to focus on stocking everything for the rush, which just happens to start right as Lacy comes back.

“Sorry I’m late,” she ties her apron. “What’d I miss?”

He just nods towards Cheerio and her crew and Lacy rolls her eyes, having dealt with her as well. “You’d think with how often she complains she wouldn’t come here anymore.”

“She gets enjoyment out of annoying other people. Believe me, I know her type.” He was in glee club with her type.

Like a well-oiled machine, him and Lacy get through the rush, McKinley, Thurston, and LCC students alike, and after an hour when it finally dies down, he slumps in exhaustion.

“Kurt, did you wanna go on break?”

He does absolutely, but he needs to clean his station first. “Yeah, in a few.”

“Just lemme know.”

He’s out of receipt paper. He dives below the register to grab a new roll right as the bell rings again.

“Hello!” he greets on instinct, “Welcome to the Lima-“ he pauses in horror as he processes who exactly he’s greeting.

The ugly Dalton blazer is unmistakable, as is the person wearing it.  

“All you’ll have is khakis, a Lima Bean apron, and that gay face.”

Why is he here? Why is it always him? Of all the times he had to come…

“Kurt?” Sebastian is squinting at him like he isn’t sure what he’s seeing.

He shakes his head, getting his bearings. Now is not the time to spiral. “Sorry. Long day,” he chuckles dryly. “What can I get you?”

“Large caramel latte with almond milk. Extra caramel. 4 sugars. Light on the foam. A shot of Courvoisier.”

“Okay, sure,” his voice is tight as he slides the cup over to Lacy. “That’s $8.50.”

His heart is beating through his ears as he slides the other boy’s card.

He sneaks behind Lacy. “I think I’m gonna take my break now.”

“Oh, sure-“ And then she looks at him, “Hey, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He almost wishes he had.

He can feel curious eyes boring into his back as he takes his apron off, sitting down in the corner table next to the counter to breathe.

He rests his forehead down on the cold metal. Why is it always Sebastian? He hasn’t even seen the guy since graduation, so why does he have to pop up out of nowhere again? Is it to gloat? Did someone tip him off that he worked here? No, that was genuine shock on his face just now. But why is the timing so terrible? There’s a sting in his eyes.  

A chair scrapes as the table rattles a bit and Kurt knows who it is before he even lifts his head. He gives his best attempt at a glare. “This table is for employees, you know.”

Sebastian shrugs, nonchalant as always. “Your coworker said I could sit here.”

He puts the mask back on. “What do you want? To gloat?”

“Gloat about what?”

“You won. Your little ‘prediction’ came true. I’m just as much of a loser as you said.”

“Not really. You still won Nationals and Blaine,” he responds wryly, but Kurt just glowers and he sighs. “I’m not here to make fun of you. I’m not that guy anymore, remember?”

“Yeah, well, old habits die hard.” Like his old habit of assuming the worst in someone who’s already proven he's willing to change.

“Tell me about it,” Sebastian mutters, and then he clears his throat. “So. What are you doing here? I thought you’d be in New York by now.”

His eyes start to sting again and he crumples in on himself. “I didn’t get in,” he admits in almost a whisper. He doesn’t elaborate, waiting for the other pin to drop, for Sebastian, who used to be so good at agreeing with all of his worst thoughts, to tell him how much of a failure he is.

“That sucks,” he says instead. “What about your other schools?”

Kurt winces. Again with somehow knowing exactly how to hurt him. But it’s a perfectly reasonable question and he for once doesn’t have a reasonable answer.

“There weren’t any others.”

Sebastian sets his cup down in shock, leaning forward slightly. “Wait, are you saying you only applied for one school?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“Why? That seems kind of-“

“Stupid?” Kurt finishes bitterly.

“I was gonna say risky.”

He scoffs to himself. “Because I’m an idiot, apparently. I let Rachel Berry get into my head and convince me that if I applied for other schools, then clearly I didn’t want it enough.”

Sebastian frowns. “That’s backwards logic.”

“Yep.”

“So what, you’re stuck here now?”

“For the time being, yes. But it’s not like I plan on working here my whole life. I’ll reapply for the spring semester. And I’ll check out other schools too.”

“Good plan. How did Blaine take it?”

Every time…Every time they talk they always end up talking about Blaine.

“He felt bad for me, obviously. But…” he pauses. “Between you and me, I think he’s relieved I’m still here. He’ll never say it though.” Blaine doesn’t really seem bothered at all by it. Doesn’t even seem to notice how absolutely miserable he’s been. But Blaine’s been busy getting ready for senior year. It’s not his fault his boyfriend is a useless lump. “I don’t wanna talk about that anymore. How have you been? I haven’t actually seen you since that graduation party.”

He swears he sees Sebastian’s face fall a bit at the mention of the party, but it’s so quick it’s possible he misses it. He still looks as neutral as ever.

“I was out of the country until last week.”

He says that so casually. Dalton boys really do live in a world of their own.

“Sounds exciting. What was it, a fancy vacation to Greece?”

Sebastian huffs a laugh. “No, not this time. I was just visiting my mom.”

Kurt freezes. This is the first he’s ever heard Sebastian mention his mother. So she must live far away…

“Your mother still lives in Paris?”

He nods.

Talk about a long-distance relationship.

“Must be rough for your parents being so far away from each other.”

Sebastian’s face tightens and Kurt thinks he might’ve said the wrong thing. “Well, it would be, except they’ve been divorced for over a year now. That’s actually why I’m here. Things got pretty messy, so Dad took me with him when he moved back to the states.”

“And now you’re here.”

“And now I’m here.” He echoes back. His lip curls. “In Ohio.”

Maybe this is why he was such a jerk when they first met..

“That’s a big change. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

He shrugs. “It’s not really a big deal. I still get to see her on holidays and over the summer.”

“But it’s not ideal,” Kurt reminds him. “And you’re allowed to be upset by it.”

“Yeah, that’s what my therapist said.” Kurt’s not sure what he’s more shocked by. The fact that Sebastian is seeing a therapist, or the fact that Sebastian is willingly telling him about seeing a therapist.

He really took the change of heart seriously.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m in therapy.”

He is, but it’s also private. “It’s really none of my business.”

“My dad made me. After the parking lot incident, he made an agreement with the Anderson’s. They wouldn’t press charges as long as I agreed to go.” He sounds a little bitter. “Obviously, he took that deal.”

This is…completely new information. Kurt didn’t even know that Blaine’s parents had tried to press charges. And all Blaine had told him was he wanted to forget about it. Does Blaine know? Is that why he forgave Sebastian so easily?

“Why are you telling me this?” he asks hesitantly.

Sebastian shrugs. “You told me why you left Dalton. Figured it was only fair.”

I only told you because you asked. “You’re not obligated to tell me things just because I do. Everyone has their secrets.”

“Well, now we’re even. So you have dirt on me if I act like a dick.”

Kurt would never use something like that against someone. Judging by the amused glint in his eyes, he’s pretty sure Sebastian knows that too.

“So, how’s Paris?” he changes the subject abruptly.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “Crowded, loud, same as usual. Why?”

“Oh, c’mon, you have to give me more than that. Where’s the magic? The mystique?”

Sebastian snorts. “I lived there for 16 years, Kurt. Any ‘mystique’ that was there was long gone.”

“Ugh, the way you say that so casually makes me hate you a little.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I’ve always wanted to go. It is the fashion capital.”

“Of course you would be thinking about the fashion.”

“Yes, I’m a stereotype,” he waves dismissively, “We’ve established this. I still wanna go to Paris.”

“Well, with your style, you’d probably fit right in. You’ll need some French classes first though because they’re really snooty about speaking English.”

He smirks, feeling the urge to flex. “Well, I should fit in just fine then,” he says easily in French.

Sebastian stiffens, eyes wide as saucers, and Kurt tries not to be too smug about it. The Warbler leans forward. “You’re fluent?!”

“Have been since I was 8. My mother taught me.”

“Oh, are your parents divorced too?”

Kurt pauses. Why would he assume that? Right, he knows Finn. “She’s dead, actually,” he ends up saying in English.

His face completely falls and he sucks in a breath. This would normally be the time where whoever he’s talking to starts apologizing and making it more awkward. Instead Sebastian just says, “Shit.”

“It was over 10 years ago. It’s fine.” Please don’t linger on it.

Kurt’s beginning to wonder if Sebastian’s a mind reader because he leans back and says in French again, “Well, she clearly taught you well.”

“Thank you.”

Lacy taps her wrist from the counter and Kurt looks at the clock. He’s 5 minutes over his break already.

“My break’s over, so I’m gonna head back to work.” He stands. “It was good to see you, Sebastian.” And he’s surprised to find he actually means it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sebastian leaves through the door, coffee in hand, and Lacy clears her throat very loudly.

When he turns to her, she looks incredibly giddy. “He’s cute. Is he single?”

“Yeah, he’s-“ He pauses, about to say ‘not a relationship guy’ and then has a moment. “Oh no.”

“’Oh no’, what?”

“Sweetie, you work 2 jobs and have 20 credit hours. The last thing you need is to be that guy’s hag.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s gay,” he says flatly.

“Yeah, I could tell that much. I was asking for you.”

Asking for-? Oh god. “Yeah, that’s never happening.”

“Why not? He’s cute and you just said he’s single.”

“He is, but I’m not!”

She freezes. “Wait…you’re not? Since when?”

“Since March of 2011. My boyfriend is here almost every day, did you seriously not know?”

“Whoa, whoa, wait. Which one’s your boyfriend?”

Kurt puts his hand up to his nose. “This tall, dark hair, dreamy eyes, always orders a Medium drip.”

Lacy takes a moment and then her eyes widen in recognition.

“Oh my god, Bowtie?! He’s your boyfriend?!” He nods tightly as she processes all this. “But he’s always flirting with me at the window. Is he bi or something?”

He winces a little at that. It’s a sore subject, but it’s not like Lacy would know that. “No he’s-" he sighs, “He’s gay, he’s just..like that.”

She shrugs. “If you say so.” And then she thankfully changes the subject. “Do you want dishes today or floor?”

Both sound so appealing…not.

“I’ll take floor.”

When he gets home after work, he manages to find Sebastian in Blaine’s friend list on Facebook and sends a request.

It’s immediately accepted.

Chapter Text

Having Kurt send him a friend request on Facebook a week ago almost feels like a rite of passage. Like he passed some insane test he didn’t even know he was taking. The anxious part of his brain wonders if it’s some sort of set up.

“You’ve had a few meetings with this boy already, right?” Dr. Joe had asked him when he relayed his fears about that.

He nodded.

“Well, then I think the likely conclusion is that he’s decided to trust you now. From what you’ve told me, Kurt doesn’t seem to be the vengeance type.”

“Yeah, but…now what? Do I have to message him or…?”

Dr. Joe stared at him patiently. He was always so patient, even when Sebastian was a raging asshole in their first couple sessions. “You don’t have to do anything. All this means is that he is allowing you into a part of his life and you’re doing the same. Whether you choose to comment or message or like his statuses…all of that’s up to you. There’s no right way to do it.”

It’s such a non-answer. “Wow, that’s really pointless.”

Dr. Joe laughed. “Possibly. Most social media is.”

So he doesn’t message Kurt. From what he gathered from scrolling through his Facebook, Kurt’s not really all that active anyway. His last post is from his graduation where he’s tagged in a picture with his tall stepbrother, a woman old enough to be his mother (stepmother?), and a burly-looking dude in a baseball cap whose only indication they’re related is their eyes. Must be his dad, then. They look like the picture-perfect family and Sebastian can’t help but be a little jealous. He had that for himself, once.

“Sebastian.” Speak of the devil. His father sits across from him, face as impassive as always. Robert Smythe isn't a bad father, but it always just seems like he doesn’t know what to do with him. Especially since the divorce. They really don’t have much in common and his dad isn’t a touchy-feely guy either.

Sebastian sets his phone down to show he’s listening because his dad doesn’t like to repeat himself.

“You have a meeting with the guidance counselor tomorrow about your college applications.” It’s a question, but he says it like a statement.

“Yeah, I do. After school.”

His dad nods. “And will you be joining the Warblers again?”

Sebastian stiffens. Will he? Most of them still don’t like him much, but Thad had put in a good word for him. “Probably,” he says carefully. His dad frowns. “I take it you don’t approve?”

He takes his time answering, like he always does when he knows he’s gonna say something Sebastian won’t like. “I can’t stop you, but I want to make sure you’re focusing on school. Your grades last year were only barely passable.” ‘Barely passable’ in his dad’s eyes is like a C. Which yeah, he definitely could’ve done better. And if he wants to get into the school of his choice, he needs to get a 4.0.

“Fair enough. But I know what I need to do. I won’t repeat what happened last year.”

“That’s all I ask.”

And like always when too many feelings get involved, his dad retreats back to his office.

“Hmm,” the guidance counselor, Ms. Sloane, looks at his application and transcripts skeptically. “The fact that you’re bilingual will really help you out in the career world, and the school you went to in France is top-notch. But I’m a little concerned about your grades from last year.”

He already got this lecture. “I know. I was in a new school in a new country, and I let them slip. That won’t happen this year.”

“I believe you,” she says, “And your grades for your previous school were excellent. Your teachers all tell me what a smart kid you are. Unfortunately, in the US, your Junior year is arguably the most important one. It’s the one where you take your ACT and SAT tests and a lot of kids actually start applying early.”

“I understand.”

“But it looks like you got a 31 on the ACT so maybe that’ll be enough to balance it out.” He doesn’t want a ‘maybe’.

“So, what do you recommend?”

“Well, you’ve already said you’re aiming for a 4.0 this year, so that’s a great start. You were Captain of the Warblers last year and on the lacrosse team, so there’s extracurriculars covered. It’s just-“

He sits up. “Just what?”

“Your writing profile. It’s kind of skimpy. I understand you have a blog, but I would recommend adding something else on there too. Some sort of magazine or newspaper. Something that shows that not only can you write, but you can also entice others to contribute. Leadership qualities.”

He sits back. He hadn’t even thought of that. “Okay, so if I do that, you think I can get in?”

She smiles. “I think you have a pretty good shot.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Looks like he'll have to try a little harder to make friends this year. 

They got a new Warbler a few days later. Some kid named Hunter Clarington, a junior. He reminds him of what he was like as a junior and he already doesn’t like him. Thankfully, that good word from Thad had gotten far because they all voted for him as Captain again. Even Trent was supportive and that’s saying something.

It’s when he’s in the library doing his homework because he was serious about acing everything that their new recruit takes a seat across from him, looking a little too innocent to be genuine.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “Can I help you with something?”

“So, you’re a senior, right?” Hunter asks.

“Yep.”

“And you’re Warblers captain.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And apparently you caused some trouble last year and are 'rehabilitating.'” He says it almost mockingly, putting his fingers in quotes. 

Sebastian narrows his eyes. “What’s your point?”

Hunter smirks. “Glad you asked. See, I’m kind of what you call thorough. I did my research on every single one of the Warblers and some of the stuff I found, especially about you, is...interesting.” Sebastian clenches his jaw, giving Hunter his darkest look but the other boy seems to delight in this. “I hear your dad’s a state attorney. And that there was a case of assault last year that he somehow got you off for.”

He rolls his eyes. “Everyone already knows about that.”

“Yeah? Do they know about the one in Paris?” Sebastian freezes and Hunter gets an innocent look. “Legend has it that poor guy still has memory issues. Jean, right?”

What the fuck- Is he being blackmailed right now?

He closes his laptop lid. “What do you want, Clarington?”

“I want you to step down as Captain of the Warblers tomorrow and name me as your successor.”

Seriously?

“I can’t do that.”

“Well, I guess everyone will know what happened with Jean. And not just the Warblers, either. Everyone.”

“Look,” he tries to reason with him, “This is my future. I need that position for my college applications.”

“Not my problem. But hey, if you play nice, I’ll kick the dumb blond off the council and let you be his replacement.”

Is this what they call karma? Figures his luck would run out right when he actually needs it.

“So what do you say, Smythe? I don’t have all day.”

His chest starts to tighten, that rainy night flashing through his head, and he is absolutely not gonna let this asshole get the satisfaction of seeing him cry. He’s Sebastian fucking Smythe!

“Fuck you,” he spits out, slamming his chair as he storms out.

“I expect your decision tomorrow!” he hears Hunter call behind him.

He doesn’t look back, instead making a beeline for the restroom, crumpling down into a ball under the sink. How could Clarington have found out about that? He hasn’t even thought about Jean in months, or atleast…he’s tried not to.

An ear-splitting crack of the head rings through his memories and he shoves his face in between his knees. Why now? Why now, after months of therapy and trying to be better, is this coming to haunt him? The shudder rolls through his body and he stutters out tears.

He can’t step down. He needs every tool he can get for his applications. His dad already told him he’s only helping with living costs, which means he’s on his own for tuition. But he can’t let anyone know about what happened in Paris, either. If Clarington leaks that, his life is over. Not just at Dalton, but anywhere. 

And why does Clarington even need Captain anyway? He’s a junior. He can just wait until next year. He’s kicking himself for not asking. He wasn’t thinking clearly. He let him get into his head so easily.

He probably doesn’t even have that information. He’s bluffing, right? But who would tell him? No one knows about it.

He hears the door squeak open and groans. Maybe he can sink into the floor and no one will ever have to see him. That would solve the problem. Just disappear.

“Sebastian?”

For fuck’s sake. Trent?! Of all the damn people.

“Go away,” he grumbles. Trent’s a pushover and doesn’t like him, so maybe if he’s an asshole to him, he’ll leave.

Trent steps closer. “Uhh, are you okay? You’re sitting on the floor.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” he snaps. His luck really did run out, huh? “Do I look like I’m fucking okay?”

Trent flinches. Good. Leave. “No, not really.” But he’s still standing there. “You’re shaking like a leaf. I’m gonna get the nurse.”

“Don’t fucking get anyone,” he grits out right as Trent turns. “I’m fine.”

Trent laughs at him. Actually laughs at him. “Okay, no offense, but that’s bullshit. No one sits on the bathroom floor having a panic attack if they’re fine.”

This feels familiar and he really doesn’t like it. “What, do you pity me?”

“No, I-“

“I don’t fucking care. Here’s what you’re gonna do,” he puts on his venomous tone he hasn’t used much since last year. “You’re gonna go back to your dorm, you’re gonna talk to your roommate and kiss his ass like you do with everyone else, and you’re going to tell the Warblers absolutely nothing about what you saw in here. Because if you do, I’m gonna tell everyone what you really do with that poster of Zac Efron in your room.”

Trent’s face hardens. “Wow. Excuse me for caring. Should’ve figured you were just playing nice until you got captain again.”

“And you’re one of the idiots who fell for it. Sucks to be you.” He gives a bitchy little finger wave for good measure and watches with a hollow feeling in his chest as Trent stomps out.

He slumps down immediately, already feeling the tinges of regret. It’s not like Trent is a bad guy. He could’ve even made up some lie about how he was just stressed about college, which he is, but Trent’s also an awful liar and the last thing he needs right now is all the Warblers giving him fake sympathy and nosing into his business.

“You don’t have to push everyone away, Sebastian. It’s not healthy to keep it all bottled up to yourself.”

Failed step one. But can he really expect someone who doesn’t even like him to actually help him?

Kurt did, the traitorous part of his mind reminds him. Well, Kurt’s a bit of a different breed. If it wasn’t for his particular brand of bitchiness and his breakdown in the coffee shop, Sebastian would be half-convinced the guy isn’t even a human being.

He takes a deep breath, stands. He needs to get out of here before someone else sees him. Someone he can’t just threaten until they go away.

“Well, I guess everyone will know what happened with Jean. Not just the Warblers, either. Everyone.”

He basically just did the same thing to Trent that Clarington did to him.

He’s a joke. And if Dr. Joe were here, he’d tell him to apologize.

He’ll worry about that later. Right now, he has to deal with Clarington.

He splashes water on his face. He knows what he has to do.

It’s as he’s walking into Warblers practice that Clarington slings an arm over his shoulders. “Hey, buddy. Did you think about our little talk yesterday? I really do think it’s in your best interest to lower your workload. You look like you haven’t slept.”

Yeah, no thanks to you. Dick.

He shrugs him off and walks away without a response.

It’s when Trent bangs the gavel that he steps up.

“Hey, can I make an announcement before we get started?”

Trent just stares at him coolly, still mad about what Sebastian said yesterday and he feels that guilt again. He’ll apologize after practice.

Jeff, oblivious to the tension as always, just nods. “Sure, go ahead!”

He clears his throat. “Warblers!” he waits patiently for it to quiet down. “I have an announcement.”

They’re all staring at him with bated breath, and he sees Clarington lean forward, but otherwise give nothing away.

“You guys all voted for me to be Captain again this year, which after I messed up last year, I’m truly honored by.” A pause. “But I’m afraid I’m gonna have to decline.”

“What?” Trent bursts out from the council desk. “Why?”

He tries to shrug nonchalantly. “It’s my senior year. Between lacrosse practice, keeping my grades up, and college applications, I don’t think I’ll be able to put my 100% in the time needed as Captain. I think you guys deserve someone who can.”

“Do you have someone in mind?” Nick asks diplomatically.

There’s a bitter taste in his mouth. “As a matter of fact, I do.” He gestures to Clarington. “I nominate Warbler Hunter. He showed us last week that he has the stage presence and the talent. Plus, he’s a junior which means he can stick around for you longer than I can.” Clarington looks smug, so Sebastian smiles sweetly. “But I understand this is a bit unconventional since he only just arrived last week, so ultimately, the decision is up to you.”

The boys start angrily whispering to each other, and he gives Hunter a pointed look who’s frowning. I did what you wanted asshole, but good luck getting to the rest of them.

Trent nods. “Very well. We’ll take Warbler Hunter into consideration.” And then he gives a challenging look. “Thank you for your honesty. Do you mind fulfilling the role as Captain until we make a decision?”

He dips his head and sits back down. “No, of course not.”

After their practice, they file out and Hunter puts an arm over him again. “Thanks for the recommendation, friend.”

He jerks away. “Don’t fucking touch me. And we’re not friends.”

Hunter grins. “Man, you really are an Ice King. You should probably be a little nicer to me. Especially after that little stunt you pulled.”

He glares at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I dropped the position of Captain, I even buttered them all up towards you. It’s a show choir, not a dictatorship, so if you want it so bad, then find a way to convince them. But I followed my end of the deal, and I’m expecting you’ll follow yours. You already know my dad’s an attorney. You’re lucky if I don’t sue you.”

Hunter puts his hands up in surrender. “Okay, fair enough.” Then he smiles again, hitting his shoulder playfully. “Cheer up, tiger. You’ll still go to college. I’ll convince the blond to let you take his place.”

‘Convince’ to this guy seems to mean ‘threaten’. But what could he possibly have as blackmail against Jeff of all people? The guy’s an open book in the most annoying way possible.

“Whatever, just leave me alone.” And he starts walking. Where, he doesn’t know. He just wants to get away from Hunter, away from that classroom. Away from everything.

He’s so lost in his thoughts he completely runs into someone. That someone being Trent. They both fall to the floor.

“Ow.” Trent rubs his forehead. And then he notices it’s him and he gets a hard look. “Oh, it’s you.”

That hurts but he deserves it. Well, no time like the present.

“Sorry, I was lost in thought.” He stands up, holding a hand out and Trent gives him a suspicious look. He doesn’t take it and Sebastian just puts it back in his pocket, stung. “I owe you an apology.”

“Yeah, you do.”

He doesn’t wanna spill his baggage, but if he learned anything from that first meeting with Kurt, it’s that he needs some type of explanation.

“My dad’s been getting on me about college and since last year wasn’t exactly a great showing for me, I’ve been pretty stressed out. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m sorry.”

Trent raises an eyebrow. “Is that why you dropped out of being Captain?”

On impulse, he almost barks out ‘None of your business’, but that’s the old Sebastian and he’s trying not to be that anymore. Even if he failed miserably at it yesterday.

Why do people always have to ask questions? Just accept the apology and leave!

“That’s…” he answers carefully, “Part of it, yes.”

Trent seems like he wants more answers than that, but he must’ve noticed how tense he is because he just nods. “Alright then. I accept your apology. Thanks.”

“Great.” He spins to go the other way.

“And just so you know,” Trent causes him to freeze, “I didn’t tell anyone.”

He doesn’t respond, but he just hurries into his dorm, collapsing on his bed. He’s really glad his dad had managed to get him a single room because he can’t imagine having some random roommate seeing him like this. His bedroom has been the only safe space he’s had since he moved here. The only space where he won’t get judged if he acts like a depressed asshole.

How did everything get so fucked up so quickly? Two weeks ago, he’d been excited about really proving himself senior year. And then…Hunter Clarington. Why him? What could Hunter possibly gain from all of this? Was he a previous hook up or something? He likes to think he would remember, but some of those nights were pretty hazy with alcohol.

He doesn’t understand and he hates not understanding. He’s so good at reading people, it’s one of the reasons people fear him, but he can’t get a read on Hunter at all. And that terrifies him. For all he knows, his whole past could be on the news tomorrow and Hunter was just playing with him.

He’s gonna have to bring this up with Dr. Joe tomorrow. He’s managed to avoid talking about his last few months in France up to this point, but how can he? He can’t tell him that Hunter is blackmailing him without also telling him what he’s being blackmailed for.

Maybe he could just skip the session. Call in sick.

….But no, he can’t do that. Dr. Joe will call his dad and his dad will confront him and then he’ll have to tell his dad instead. And he really doesn’t wanna do that.

He gets out his phone, scrolling through his social media, letting the random posts and occasional pictures take over his conscious.

Until he finds something that gets him to pause.

A Facebook update from Kurt.

It’s a picture of him and the loud Jewish girl at Times Square. Last time he checked, Kurt was in Lima still. He double-checks the date.

September 17, 2012.

Huh, so he went to New York after all then. What changed? Is he just visiting?

Well, he supposes it doesn’t matter. It’s nice that atleast somebody gets to have something good happen to them.

And unlike him, Kurt’s actually a decent person who deserves it.

He likes the status.

Chapter Text

“Rachel!” he bangs on the door, her scales leaking through, piercing through his headache. “Can you hurry up? I’m gonna be late for work!”

The sound of running water and scales continues, no acknowledgement that she even heard him and he scoffs, rolling his eyes. He’s glad he takes showers at night if this is how it’s like to live with her.

He goes back to his ‘room’ (if you can call it one) and starts buttoning up his outfit for the day, one of his printed suits that he knows Isabelle will appreciate.

So far, working with Isabelle is a dream come true, but he can’t lie to himself. There’s a part of him that wishes he’d just gotten a paid job instead. Maybe he should look into it.

He still has savings left over from all his time helping his dad and from the Lima Bean, but that will only get him so far. Especially in a city like New York, where they charge you just for breathing.

No sign of Rachel coming out any time soon. His shift starts in an hour and he can’t always count on the trains to be on time.

He runs a finger through his hair, parting it in the way that Rachel said made him look more mature. It’s not the same as actually using his mousse, but it would have to do for now.

Isabelle seems to really like him for whatever reason. He’s not gonna screw that up by showing up late.

The nearest train stop is about a 10 minute walk. Not for the first time, he wishes he hadn’t left his car behind, but in a place like New York, and especially in a place like Bushwick, where he’s likely to get mugged or stabbed if he looks at someone wrong, his sleek Navigator would probably just draw attention to him in all the wrong ways.

Walking in this area alone still makes him nervous. Yes, he is a grown man, but he’s not exactly a scrapper and homophobia didn’t just disappear the minute he left Lima. On his first shopping trip, he’d made sure to buy both him and Rachel pepper spray in case anyone got any funny ideas.

It’s about a 45 minute trip from his apartment to the Vogue headquarters. In a city like New York, people latch on to any form of weakness. He learned very quickly to mask his starry-eyed wonder at being in the big city with a neutral indifference, plugging his headphones in and keeping his head down.

If there’s one thing he can thank Lima for, it’s for making him very hyper-alert of his surroundings—who was coming up to him, how close, and whether or not they meant trouble.

He makes sure to sit in the corner if he can find a spot so that he can always be aware if someone approaches him.

Thankfully, the train isn’t too busy at this hour, but it’ll get a bit more packed as they get further into the inner city.

He claims his corner spot and opens his Facebook app. With the travel time, it usually gives him a chance to catch up with his social media. He’s not much of a poster, but he atleast likes to see what everyone else is up to, especially Blaine. Who’s always been way more into status updates than him.

Sure enough, there’s a video uploaded of his ‘Class President’ speech. It’s grainy and in poor quality, so he has to turn the volume all the way up. What did he record this with? A potato?

“Ladies and gentlemen, telling anyone what they can or cannot put into their hair is disgusting. It’s the first step towards tyranny, my friends. Next thing you know, they’ll start burning books. And then they’ll probably start burning people, too…”

He has to hold back a groan.

God dammit, Blaine, I told you to cut that part.

A few days ago, Blaine had practiced his speech with him over the phone, Holocaust comparison and all, and then had the huge wide puppy eyes as he was just like “What do you think?”

He thought doing a whole speech about hairgel instead of real issues was tone deaf, at best. But he knew that wasn’t what Blaine wanted to hear, and he didn’t go there anymore, so really, what did it matter? He tried to address real issues last year and lost anyway.

“It’s good,” he had said diplomatically, “Maybe cut the part about people burning though. Seems a bit extreme.”

“Oh, really? You think Jews would find it offensive?” He found it offensive and he wasn’t even Jewish. He was glad Rachel wasn’t in the loft at that point.

“Maybe. Better safe than sorry.”

“Yeah, good point. I’ll just cut that part out, then.”

“I would.”

He evidently did not do that. He can only imagine how well that went with people like Jacob Ben Israel at that school.

He won’t be surprised if he gets a call tonight complaining about being blasted on the school website for being antisemitic.

Looking closer at the video, he notices that Blaine isn’t even wearing his usual bowtie either.

After spending most of their phone date the other night stressing over it…

Vaguely, he wonders what the point of Blaine even asking for his feedback was if he wasn’t going to use it.

The train calls out his stop and that’s his cue to push those thoughts aside.

He’ll make sure to console Blaine later over the inevitable loss.

Busy day with phone calls today. He expects this will be his only job, so he’s surprised when it’s Isabelle herself on the other line.

“Kurt, can you do me a favor?”

He sits up straight. “Of course, what is it?”

“I need you to go pick up some material from a friend of mine. I’ll text you the address.”

This seems like a job that should go to someone more important.

“Oh, are you sure? I wouldn’t wanna mess anything up.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I’ll send Chase with you.”

His heart skips a beat.

Chase Madison

One of Isabelle’s assistants.

Dark hair, about 10 years older, and extremely dreamy.

...Kurt can admit to himself he has a bit of a crush. And after the Chandler fiasco, he feels more than a little guilty about it. So he’s been trying his best to keep his head down and avoid Chase for the better part of a week.

“What about the phones?”

“I’ll take care of them. Just please hurry.”

Chase, dutiful as he appears, is waiting outside in the hall for him, looking devastating as he leans against the wall in his deep blue suit.  

Kurt’s never spent time alone with him like this. He chuckles awkwardly. “Guess you’re stuck with me today. Sorry.”

Chase gives him a little smirk, his eyes twinkling. His eyes are so pretty- No. Bad Kurt. You have a boyfriend.

“She give you the address?” Chase asks. Kurt takes a second longer than he should to process.

“Oh! Yes, she did.” He pulls out his phone. “It’s here.”

Chase whistles. “That’s all the way in Queens.”

He’s still learning where everything is..”Is that too far?”

“’Bout 30 minutes if we leave now.”

The sooner the better. Wouldn’t wanna keep Isabelle waiting…

It’s once they’re out the door, he starts to head towards the train stop.

“Kurt?” Chase calls from behind. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to-“ he trails off as he notices the other man standing next to a taxi, an eyebrow raised. Oh, he supposes that would be more efficient. Well, now he just feels silly.

A pat on his shoulder after he gets in the back seat. “Don’t feel bad. A lot of locals would’ve done the same thing.” He lights a cigarette, opening the window. “This way’s just faster. And it’s on Isabelle’s dollar.”

Does Isabelle know that?

A nudge to his arm and Chase is offering a box of cigarettes. “Want one?”

Kurt wrinkles his nose. He’s always found smoking foul, but something about Chase doing it makes it weirdly alluring. He gives a tight smile. “No, thank you, I don’t smoke.” And unnecessarily, he adds, “Messes with the voice.”

An amused huff. “You a singer?”

He thought he was, but maybe life didn’t agree. “I’d like to be. I was in a show choir in high school.”

“Show choir, huh? Where’d you say you were from again?”

“Lima. Ohio.”

Another drag on his cigarette. “I drove through Ohio a couple times.” His voice is neutral, but Kurt can see the diplomacy for what it is.

“My condolences,” he remarks dryly. “There’s a reason I left.”

Chase snorts. “Yeah, I wasn’t all that impressed. I’m from New Jersey, so I guess I wasn’t used to seeing so much land.”

Jersey, huh…? Everything he knows about it is from Jersey Shore.

“I’ve never been to New Jersey.”

“You’re not missing out. There’s a reason everyone comes here instead.”

Noted. But now he’s curious.

“So why did you come here?”

Silence.

Kurt’s about to change the subject, but Chase says, “My parents found a boy in my bed when I was 16 and kicked me out. My uncle was a bartender so I moved in with him. Found Isabelle by chance one night when I was serving her a martini.”

Oh, okay, that’s…something. He feels like zeroing in on the ‘gay’ part might raise some questions…

“Does your uncle still bartend?” he asks instead.

“Nope. He died 3 years ago.” Chase taps his cigarette. “Lung cancer.” His expression is wry, like he understands the irony in that.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Chase shrugs. “’S fine. What about you?”

“Sorry?”

“Why are you here?”

“It’s always been my dream to come here. I initially applied for NYADA, but now I’m just living with a friend in Bushwick.”

“…You live in Bushwick?”

“Yeah. Have you been there?”

“No.” A pause. “But I’ve heard stories…”

None of them good, he’s assuming. He knows the area isn’t ideal, but he feels the need to defend himself. “We found a really spacious loft. Could probably fit 2 more people in it if we needed.”

“How much you payin’?”

“$1800.”

A slight nod of approval. “Not bad. It’s tough finding a place to live around here, but can I give you some advice?”

“Okay.”

“Don’t stop looking. There’s so many people coming and going here that the market’s changing every day. The minute you can find something better…do it. Don’t even hesitate.” A sideways glance. “Even if it means you have to go alone.”

Alone…? He can’t imagine Rachel not wanting to move up in the city with him…but what if she doesn’t? She’s a creature of habit, always has been. But he isn’t. He’s always had to adapt to things, adapt to people, put himself in a shell to keep from getting hurt. He got used to doing everything alone. But Rachel, for all her faults, somehow managed to wedge herself in that shell with him. Could he really move forward without her? Will he have to one day? Or will they both fall flat on their face?

“We’re here,” Chase mumbles from next to him, handing a card off to the taxi driver, the price on the screen making his stomach turn.

Everything’s so expensive here. He better start getting used to it.

They’re in the lobby of a small, but very neat store stuffed to the brim full of cloth, silks, threads, buttons...anything that can be used in clothes is here. He had assumed Isabelle would get all her materials from a big-name luxury store, so to find that she apparently has inner, local connections sort of makes his respect for her grow even more. He’s always been a thrifter himself.

As of now, Isabelle’s friend, who Chase had referred to as “Jade” is in the back room and Kurt can just barely hear her mumbling through the old brick walls.

Chase himself had gone outside to take a phone call, which left Kurt hanging out alone. The curious part of him wants to check out what exactly this store has and how deep it goes, but everything is stacked and organized in such a precise way that he’s afraid if he touches so much as a clothes pin, the whole set-up will collapse.

So he settles for checking his social media again, mostly Facebook.

The Warblers posted an update.

Huh. He’s a little surprised they haven’t taken him out of the group. But then again, he was also surprised they even added him in the first place. There’s still a jaded part of him that thinks they only let him in because of Blaine’s influence, despite Nick, Jeff, and Thad’s insistence otherwise at that graduation party.

Out of curiosity, he opens up the group.

Everyone, give a big Warbler congratulations to our new captain, Hunter Clarington!

Attached is a picture of a vaguely smarmy-looking theater kid in the Warblers uniform.

Who is this kid…? But that’s not even the more concerning part.

The weird part is the first comment below.

Sebastian Smythe: Congrats (: You’ll nail it, killer.

Huh. He kind of assumed from their last chat a couple weeks ago that Sebastian would just be Captain again, but apparently not. Why is that…? He can’t imagine Sebastian turning it down, especially not in his senior year. Did they not want him to after all the drama last year?

But who is this Hunter guy…? He wasn’t there last year. Where does Dalton keep finding these “Captains” from out of nowhere? Even when he was a Dalton student, it always felt wrong to see veterans like Jeff and Nick continually pushed to the side while Blaine, a sophomore and a transfer, got to call all the shots. The Warbler hierarchy was very off-putting, which is why he stopped fighting it. Clearly, there were “connections” there he just wasn’t understanding. Rich people problems…

But why is Sebastian-?

“Is that your boyfriend or something?” A decidedly male voice spoke from behind him and he jumped 3 inches, almost dropping his phone.

He puts a hand on his chest to try and slow down his heart as Chase stands right in front of him, looking a little startled.

“You scared me,” Kurt sighs out.

“Sorry, I thought you heard me come back.”

He did not…but he doesn’t’ think he needs to say that. He clears his throat. “You were saying…?” Something about a boyfriend…is he trying to scope him out? And why does the idea of that make him excited? He should stop…

“Nothing, nevermind.” Kurt narrows his eyes, but doesn’t press it, zeroing in on the bag.

“Did you get bagels while you were out?”

“Yep. Across the street.” He fishes out what looks like a sesame bagel that smells freshly baked and heavenly on his empty stomach. “Want one?”

Just as Kurt’s about to take a bite, Jade comes out rambling in what sounds like Italian, pointing an accusatory finger at Chase and glaring at him.

Chase puts his hands up in surrender and answers back. In fluent Italian. Now that just isn’t fair.

Jade gives them both a sharp glare before heading back to the backroom.

It takes him a moment to say anything. “I-um- didn’t realize you spoke Italian.”

Chase replies in Italian and it is way sexier than it has any right to be. And then in English, he says, “My parents immigrated from Italy.”

“I see.”

“There’s a lot of Italian-speakers in this area. Maybe I could teach you?”

The way he says that is almost…flirty. Or maybe Kurt’s losing his mind.

“I’ll think about it,” he replies airily. “So what did she say?”

“That if we get so much as a single crumb on her merchandise, we’re going back in body bags.”

“Lovely.” Something tells him that threat is not empty.

Jade comes back at that moment to hand them off their bag. Kurt, not wanting to feel left out and also slightly afraid of the woman now, says “Grazie” in the best accent he can manage.

"You're welcome," the lady smirks. She gives a nod of approval as she eyeballs his outfit. "Beautiful suit." 

High praise coming from someone like her, hes sure. 

Chase calls the taxi service and just scoffs in disgust. “We’re taking the train back then. Taxi is backed up.”

“Okay.”

“Your accent back there was pretty good. You could probably learn Italian very easily.”

“Oh, you think so?”

“Sure. If you don’t want me to teach you, I’m sure Isabelle could.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to….

“This is cheating, Kurt!”

…He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did.

“I’m not sure when I’d find the time,” he says instead. And it’s not a total lie. He’s already busy enough as it is. And if he starts classes next semester, whether it’s at NYU or NYADA, that’ll take any free time he has.

“Do you speak any other language?” Chase asks curiously.

Now it’s Kurt’s turn to show off. He says cheekily in French, “I may know a thing or two.”

“French, huh? That explains the accent. Latin languages are all siblings to each other.”

He does know that much. Maybe Italian will come easy to him for that reason.

Their conversation dies down when they get on the train and Kurt’s phone buzzes.

Is someone messaging him?

Blaine <3: Say hello to your new 2012-2013 McKinley class president!! :D [Sent 2:45 PM]

He blinks twice to make sure he’s not reading it wrong.

Blaine…won? Even with that speech? How bad was the competition? Wait…wasn’t it Brittany?

An ugly, almost bitter feeling curls up in his chest. He had lost to Brittany last year. With an anti-bullying campaign that resonated with a lot of people. And Principal Figgins made sure to clear it up completely that even without Rachel’s interference, he probably still would’ve lost.

…But Blaine won. Of course he did. Some people are just born with that sort of luck, he supposes.

He shakes his head to snap the thoughts out. What is he doing being resentful? He has an internship with freaking Vogue! He has an amazing, devoted boyfriend who he loves! He’s making it in the city when a lot of people can’t. If anyone’s lucky, it’s him.

To Blaine <3: That’s amazing! ❤ Congratulations. I knew you would win. They would’ve been stupid not to vote for you. We’ll celebrate when you come visit in a couple weeks. Dinner in the city on me! 🥰 [Sent 2:48 P.M.]

He doesn’t get a response until he’s back in the office.  

Thanks. <333 Dinner sounds amazing. [Sent 3:31 P.M]

~The Next Day~

Isabelle has been in a really great mood all day today. He wonders if she had a good meeting with Anna or something.

“I’ll take these folders downstairs,” he announces.

“Not so fast, Kurt. I need to tell you something.”

Is it bad..?

“What is it?”

“So we’re having a staff party tonight. We do this at the end of every month. You should come.”

“I would love to, but I’m not technically staff, am I?” He’s not getting paid like one..

“Well, no, but between you and me, you’re probably my favorite intern I’ve had. And I’ve had a lot. You’re not staff right now, but I’m hoping maybe one day you can be, so it’d be good to get to know your future colleagues.” It’s incredibly rewarding knowing one of his idols wants him to stick around.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t wanna intrude-”

“You’re not intruding. Besides…” she pauses, “Chase will be there.” She gives him a knowing look.

Oh, no.

Is he really that obvious?

“Why are you bringing Chase up?”

A light shove to his shoulder, like she’s his best friend having gossip and not his boss with his life in her hands. “Oh, c’mon, Kurt, I see the way you look at him. And you seemed to be getting along pretty well when you came back yesterday.” All they’d really been doing was going over some of the files Isabelle gave them together.

Work stuff.

Because they work together.

“Should you really be encouraging this? Most people frown upon dating in the workplace.” Please let it go..

His luck has never been that good. She shrugs. “Most people aren’t me. What you do is your business as long as you’re professional here.” She leans forward, chin in hands. “So, tell me. He’s cute, right?”

She’s not gonna let this go. “He’s very cute,” he admits. “but it’s not happening.” And before she can question him further, he says, “I have a boyfriend already. I love him a lot, we’ve been together almost 2 years…I almost screwed it up once….” I can’t do it again. He’s pretty sure Chase is way out of his league anyway.

He doesn’t need to say that out loud as Isabelle’s eyes cloud over in sympathy. “I see. Well, you should come anyway. If not for Chase, then do it for me.”

He would do just about anything for her. “I’ll think about it.” He gathers up his papers.

She yells, “It’s here at 7!” behind him.

It’s in the middle of said party, when he was in the middle of listening to a story from a girl named Giselle that his phone starts buzzing.

Incoming call: Blaine <3

He bites his lip. It’s not date night for them. Is it something important? Knowing him, he probably just wants to gush about his presidency win.

He doesn’t really wanna interrupt and step out. Not when he’s trying to build his connections.

He mutes the call.

He’ll call him back later.

He’s sure Blaine will understand.

Chapter Text

It’s raining. It’s raining hard.

“Hey! Hey, you!” He hears an angry voice behind and starts walking faster. If he can just make it to the next block…

A large hand spins him around roughly, grabbing his lapels. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?”

This guy is huge. He miscalculated. “L-listen, I don’t want any trouble.”

“Yeah, well, you’re about to get it, you little slut.”

He tries to put on his best innocent act. “L-look, man, I had no idea he was your boyfriend, okay? He’s the one that cheated, so you can just let me go.”

The man just grabs him tighter, practically nose to nose. His breath reeks of alcohol and Sebastian gags a little. “Yeah, I don’t think so, pretty boy.” He leers at him. “You seem to like sucking cock so let me show you exactly how I take care of little whores like you.”

His blood turns to ice. “No,” he starts to struggle.  “Get off me.”

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart.”

“I’m underage! You could get in trouble,” he pleads. He’s not, not by a few months anyway, but this guy doesn’t have to know that. He’s way too old for him either way.

The man’s eyes darken in anger and lust. “Trust me. Once I’m done with you, it won’t matter how old you are.”

“Stop it! Let go of me!” He starts struggling again as the man reaches for his belt, the adrenaline taking over and he kicks him in the shin.

The man roars in pain and lunges for him, but Sebastian uses all his force to push him to the ground, a sickening crack of the skull as it hits the curb.

“Hey Jean!” A voice calls and he prepares to run, but pauses when he notices the man isn’t moving. “What the hell are you doing?!”

Run, idiot. He's getting closer. He might try to hurt you. But his feet are stuck in the ground as the older man, apparently named Jean, morphs into Blaine Anderson, unmoving on the parking lot, as he watches, frozen. Kurt hovers over the motionless boy, a look of horror on his face.

“What did you do?” he whispers, the rain concealing his voice.

He jolts awake from the sound of his alarm, and fumbles to turn it off, his heart rate a mile a minute. It’s once the room is silent and he takes note of his surroundings he allows himself to just sit and breathe until he’s normal again.

It’s not the first time that night in Paris has haunted his dreams, and especially not since Clarington started hanging it over his head, but it is the first time it's morphed into that parking lot incident, from when he hurt Blaine. He’ll have to remember to bring that up with Dr. Joe.

The sky outside is still dark and he groans. What time is it? He checks his clock. 5:30 AM. This is normally the time he wakes up to start getting ready for class. He must’ve forgotten to turn his alarm off. He’s been so out of it recently, so tired, and he passed out earlier than usual last night. He remembers his dad giving him a suspicious look when he said he was turning in at 9:30 and he remembers how he tried not to be hurt about it. Considering his reputation, it was more than fair.

There’s no way he’s getting back to sleep, not with that nightmare. But his dad won’t be awake for another few hours and he’s not just gonna hang around this house alone.

He needs some air.

As silently as he can, he throws on a hoodie and some jeans, toeing on his Vans. He doesn’t know where he’s going, but he figures he’ll stop for some breakfast at some point.

Somehow, he ends up in Lima, on instinct. Weirdly enough, the Lima Bean has become almost a comfort to him. He’s starting to get hungry and he doesn’t expect to see anyone he knows this early, especially not on a Saturday, so he opts for a muffin, for here.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees someone who looks suspiciously like Kurt Hummel sitting in a corner, face blank, looking dead to the world. But he must be hallucinating because Kurt is in New York, right? He blinks rapidly, waiting for the vision to change and-nope. That’s definitely him. His hair’s different and he looks a bit thinner, but no one else looks like Kurt...not in Ohio, anyway.

He offhandedly pays for his coffee and muffin and walks over to Kurt’s table. Kurt doesn’t even look at him. Is he ignoring me or is he just really out of it?

He gently sets his muffin on the table, the clanking sound from the plate making Kurt jump in surprise, staring at him with wide eyes.

Kurt puts a hand to his chest. “Jesus, you scared me! How long have you been standing there?”

So he’s just out of it then. “About 30 seconds,” he drawls. He gestures to the empty seat. “Can I sit?”

There are more than enough available seats and he’s waiting for Kurt to point that out, but now that there’s someone familiar, he doesn’t really wanna be alone.

“I can’t stop you.” That counts as permission in his book, so he slides into the metal seat across from Kurt, who’s just narrowing his eyes at him.

“What?” He can’t help the little bit of defensiveness in his tone.

“Nothing. I almost didn’t recognize you without the uniform.”

He doesn’t ask why he’s here on a Saturday morning and Sebastian doesn’t offer. But…why is Kurt here? Is he just visiting for the weekend? He looks good (the highlights are new) but he also looks absolutely drained, like he hasn’t slept in a week.

“I almost didn’t recognize you with the highlights,” he retorts back. “You get those in New York?”

“No, I actually got them over the summer. You probably just didn’t notice because of the Lima Bean uniform.”

“They’re nice.”

“Thanks. They were my friend Quinn’s idea.” Which one is Quinn again? Noticing his blank look, he clarifies, “The blonde who performed MJ with us.”

“Gotcha.” He’s dying to ask, so he does. “So why are you here? Impromptu visit?”

A pause. “Something like that.”

This mood feels a little…somber. He doesn’t like it. He tries to make a wise crack. “Bet Blaine must’ve enjoyed that.” He leers at him. “You look like you didn’t sleep at all.”

Kurt’s face hardens and it’s like the room temperature physically goes down. His face falls.

Oh.

He screwed up again.

“Shit, I’m so-“

“Don’t,” Kurt cuts him off, voice quiet. “Don’t do that. Please. I’ve had enough pity to last me a lifetime.”

“What happened?” he asks without thinking. He doesn’t expect Kurt to answer because it’s none of his business.

Kurt scoffs. “What happened is that you were right. That seems to be a running trend with you.”

And normally he enjoys being right, but it feels kind of hollow right now. Especially with Kurt looking so cold and closed off.

“I don’t understand.”

“Can I ask you something? I need you to be honest with me.”

He doesn’t like where this is going…”Sure.”

“When’s the last time you saw Blaine?”

“I haven’t seen Blaine since that graduation party,” he says slowly. Where is this going?

Kurt assesses him, like he’s expecting him to be lying. “Well, atleast he was being honest about that.”

“What is this about?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

He normally doesn’t push like this, but the way Kurt’s acting is making him very uneasy. “If it involves me, I think it kinda does.”

“It doesn’t involve you. Apparently he managed to find some other guy to fuck,” he spits out bitterly. Sebastian almost chokes on his coffee at the bluntness.

Wait-

Oh. Oh, that’s fucked. For once, he wants to be wrong about something.

“He cheated on you,” he states plainly.

Kurt flinches. He hates being right. But then what does that have to do with him- Oh, right. That hurts.

“He cheated on you and you thought it was with me.” He says flatly, unable to keep the hurt out of his tone.

“Please don’t be angry, I just-“

“You wanted to cover all your bases because of everything that happened last year. I get it.” And he does get it. But with everything that’s been happening in the past couple weeks, it just really seems like he’ll never be able to move on. But he can’t really bring himself to be mad at Kurt, not really. He’d probably do the same thing. He wants to apologize but Kurt doesn’t want pity.

“That’s shitty,” he says instead. “For what it’s worth, I would’ve said something if he even tried it with me.”

That does get a little smile out of him, a tight one. “That almost makes me feel better.”

It’s like a reflection of himself. He hates it. He hates it so much. “I know how you feel.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow in interest. “I thought you didn’t do relationships.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a reason for that. I had a boyfriend..once. Thought he was the love of my life. Walked in on him in a bathroom with another guy’s cock down his throat.” He had been 15 and naïve…

Kurt cringes, though he’s not sure if it’s the visual image or his language. “That sounds traumatizing.”

“Yeah, it didn’t end well.” And he’s done talking about it. “So if you’re not here for Blaine, then why are you here?”

“Finn.” Sebastian gives him a ‘go ahead’ gesture and he sighs, “Finn took over the glee club because their director went to DC, so he’s also directing the play. Me and Rachel came down to support him.”

“I’m assuming Blaine was also in this play…”

“Yes, he was. Can we please change the subject now? How have you been doing? What are your college plans?”

And wasn’t that a question. I’m being blackmailed by some edgy kid, I haven’t had a full nights sleep in almost a month, and I might not even get into the school I want because of my own shithead behavior. How about you?

“It’s…” he tries to be diplomatic, “It’s not as easy as I thought it would be, but my counselor says I have a pretty good shot at getting in.” Or atleast I did.

Kurt’s face softens. “Ms. Sloane, right?” He nods. “Yeah, she was really nice to me when I transferred. It was a breath of fresh air having a counselor who actually cared and knew what they were doing. What college are you going for?”

“Northwestern.”

He’s expecting a blank response because that’s what he usually gets from the people around here. But instead Kurt sits up in interest. “Journalism? Huh.” He waits for judgement. Judgement that doesn’t come. “I never would’ve considered that for you, but I guess I should’ve. It suits you.”

He blinks in surprise. “Oh. You think so?”

“Well, you’re obnoxious and you love meddling in other people’s business, so yeah I would say it’s perfect for you,” he snarks, but his tone is light, so Sebastian doesn’t take offense to it. He’s just relieved he doesn’t have to defend his choices for once.

“You’re probably the first person that’s said that.”

“To be honest, I assumed you would go to Harvard or Yale or something equally stuffy to be a lawyer or something equally boring, so this is a pleasant surprise.”

Kurt almost sounds…approving. He doesn’t know why he cares, but it makes him feel good. Better than he has in a while.

“Well, not for lack of trying on my dad’s part, but no. I’m not really interested in being the Ivy League prep school boy. I probably will apply to Harvard just to make him happy, but I’m not expecting anything out of it.”

Kurt frowns a little. “I take it your dad doesn’t exactly approve of your career choice then.”

There’s no judgment, atleast not that he can hear. But he doesn’t wanna give Kurt the wrong impression. It’s not that his dad doesn’t want him to choose his own school but..

“He…” he sighs out, “He thinks I’m being childish. That I’m deliberately squandering the advantages I have as some sort of rebellion. I would basically be a shoo-in at Harvard and I probably would be a good lawyer too, but…” Kurt has his full attention on him. He had told Dr. Joe this a couple weeks ago. Can he tell Kurt? Kurt seems like the type who would understand. “I’ve lived my whole life piggybacking off my dad and my privilege. I want my career to be something that I earned myself. Maybe I’m just being stubborn.”

“Maybe…” Kurt absently agrees. “And maybe your life would be easier following your dad. Just like maybe my life would’ve been easier going to an in-state college or not moving to the most expensive city in the country. I’m sure my dad would’ve been happy with that, but…” Kurt pauses, and now Sebastian is the one listening, “50 years from now, I don’t wanna look back and regret not living my life the way I wanted to and not feeling completely fulfilled. My dad understood that and at the end of the day, he supports me. Even if he doesn’t always agree with me.” A small smile. “I don’t know your dad, but if he’s anything like mine, I think he just wants the best for you.”

“Dr. Joe said something similar.”

“Oh, is that your therapist?”

“Yeah.”

“He sounds like a smart man.”

“He is. I could recommend him to you if you want.” He pauses, realizing how offensive that must’ve come across. People from Ohio don’t just talk about therapy casually, and he has no idea what Kurt’s stance is on the subject. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“It’s fine,” Kurt cuts him off. “I appreciate it, but I doubt he’ll be much help to me in a different state.”

“Right…” He’s lucky Kurt is the way he is because that could’ve gone south really quickly. He really has a bad habit of sticking his foot in it.

“Can I give you a piece of advice though, as someone who’s already been through it?”

He’ll take anything at this point. “Shoot.”

“Don’t do what I did. Even if your heart is set on Northwestern, which it sounds like it is, don’t make it your only option.” He backtracks a little. “Not that you won’t get in, I’m sure you will, but just-" He’s floundering now, and Sebastian has pity on him.

“I know what you mean, and I’ve already taken care of it. It’d be stupid to put all my eggs in one basket.” He sees Kurt wince and then cringes. “No offense.”

“None taken. It wasn’t one of my finer life decisions. What other schools are you looking at?”

“NYU,-" Kurt’s eyebrows raise at that “-University of Missouri in Columbia, Harvard, and Paris-Dauphine.”

“I’m assuming the last one is referring to Paris, France, and not Texas.”

There’s a Paris in Texas? He thinks Kurt might make fun of him for saying that out loud. “Yeah.”

“NYU…” Kurt trails off, “It’s funny because that was one of the schools I was originally gonna apply to as a back-up. I already sent in an application for the spring semester. It’d be nice to have someone else I know in the big apple with me.” And then he smirks. “Can’t imagine you living in a dorm though.”

He snorts. “Yeah, that’s because I wouldn’t.”

“You do realize just a shoebox studio in Manhattan is over $1500 a month?”

“Did you forget that I’m a spoiled, rich boy?”

“Right, of course.”

But then that brings up the question. Kurt isn’t in school right now, right? So what is he doing in New York and how is he able to afford wherever he’s living? He’s made it pretty clear he’s not well off like he is.

“So, what have you been doing since you’re not in school yet?”

Kurt takes a sip of his coffee and grins. “You’re not gonna believe me.”

“Try me.”

“I got an internship with Isabelle Wright.”

What. Is he serious?

“Isabelle Wright…" he repeats slowly, "From Vogue?”

“Yeah! I’m surprised you knew who she was.”

“You do realize I’m gay, right?”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Well, unlike some people, I don’t stereotype.” And then he gives a judgmental once-over of his hoodie and jeans. “And you don’t dress like someone who knows anything about fashion.”

“It’s early morning on a Saturday. Forgive me for not looking camera-ready.”

“Uh-huh. And the popped collar at Scandals? Don’t think for a moment I forgot that eyesore.”

How the fuck does he even remember that?

“That. I-" he huffs a laugh, “Okay, I have no excuse for that one. You got me there. So how is it? Working for Vogue?”

“Oh, it’s amazing. I’m learning a lot and Isabelle’s a sweetheart.” He gives him a dry look. “Nothing that would suit a Puerto Rican pride float, sorry to disappoint.”

Did I really say that?  Maybe he vaguely remembers that. “Okay, you have to admit, I was clever with that one.”

“I don’t have to admit anything, thank you very much.”

Something vibrates on the table and Kurt picks up his phone, slumping a little in disappointment.

“I gotta go pick up Rachel so we don’t miss our flight,” he explains, standing up. Sebastian almost forgot he didn’t still live here.

“Oh.” He tries not to sound disappointed. “Well, it was nice seeing you.”

“Likewise. Give me your phone.”

Sebastian narrows his eyes. “Why?”

“My number. Now gimme.” His…number? Wait, he’s offering to give him his phone number? “C’mon, I don’t have all day.”

He shakes himself out of it, handing over his iPhone, making sure to unlock it first. He’s about to tell Kurt how to do it, but it seems he doesn’t have to as he’s already typing something in and then handing it back.

Kurt looks a little embarrassed. “In case you ever wanna talk to someone who isn’t your therapist, well, I’ve been there. If you don’t, that’s fine too. Do whatever you want. But I gotta go before Rachel has an aneurysm.”

“Okay,” he responds faintly, still not fully processing everything.

 “Good luck, Sebastian,” he says in French, “I hope your senior year works out better than mine.”

Me too.

But before he can get that out, Kurt’s already halfway out the door.

He just stares at his phone, the name ‘Kurt Hummel’ staring back at him, almost mocking. The cynical part of him thinks it’s a fake number, but Kurt’s not really that type, is he?

Out of the corner, he sees the coffee shop steadily getting busier and decides that’s his cue to leave. According to his phone, it’s already almost 8. He’s been here for over an hour. His dad usually gets up around this time and he doesn’t really want him to ask questions about why he drove all the way to Lima at almost 6 in the morning.

He tries to sneak in through the back door to be less obvious, like he used to all of last year when he’d do his walks of shame, but he hears a gasp of surprise as the door latches behind him.

Anneke, their housekeeper, is grasping her chest in shock. “Oh, you scared me, Sebastian. I thought you were still in bed.”

He winces, feeling a little bad. He hadn’t intended to stay out this late, and definitely not after she got here. “Sorry. Couldn’t sleep, so I went for a drive.”

She gives him a long stare, most likely checking for a lie, and then tuts. “Alright then. I won’t tell Mr. Smythe.”

That’s something he likes about Anneke. She can keep her mouth shut when she needs to. “Where is he? My dad, I mean.”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him come down yet.”

With any luck, he’s still in his room so Sebastian doesn’t have to answer any questions or have one of his incredibly awkward attempts at trying to get him to talk about his feelings.

He knows he’ll need to talk about it eventually, about Northwestern, and why he doesn’t wanna go to Harvard, but he’s not there yet.

Maybe he can avoid it until he gets his acceptance letter in the mail months from now.

He gives a sigh of relief when he closes the door behind him, no sign of his dad, and flops on his bed, all his adrenaline from earlier and the caffeine finally wearing off.

He scrolls through his phone, screen still stuck on Kurt’s contact page, thumb hovering over the message icon. He’d only just saw Kurt an hour ago. Wouldn’t messaging him be desperate? Maybe he should wait for Kurt to message him first….

But Kurt doesn’t have his number. He gave Sebastian his number to do whatever he wanted with, but he never asked for his. Was that intentional? Does he not want him to use it? But then why even offer it up?

“You’re thinking too much,” a voice that sounds suspiciously like Dr. Joe tells him in his head.

Right, it’s a stupid number. If Kurt didn’t want him to use it, he wouldn’t have given it to him, right?

He opens the message box, types out, Hey, it’s Sebastian. Good luck in NY.

There, short and sweet. Now it’s Kurt’s choice whether to respond and no longer his problem.

It isn’t until hours later that he finally gets a response.

Kurt Hummel: Thank you. 😊

Chapter Text

At first, Kurt was a bit confused on how Rachel managed to move on from Finn, the supposed love of her life, so quickly. And then he met Brody Weston and everything made sense.

He’s not shallow, not really. He would never commit to a relationship just for looks, but Brody is hot.

Even in the modest V-neck and jeans, Kurt can tell that Brody has a body to die for.

He doesn’t necessarily think Rachel’s shallow, but…he gets it.

They’re at the Callbacks bar, a lackluster plate of wings in front of him. Definitely not Frank’s.  It was Rachel’s idea because he apparently was cramping her mood.

“Kurt, you can’t just mope around the apartment forever,” she had scolded him.

“I’m not!” He flashed his pint of ice cream. “I go to Vogue almost every day and now I’m relaxing with a movie.”

The movie in question being Rent.

Rachel raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you come out to Callbacks with me and Brody? It’ll be fun!”

Last time he went to Callbacks was the night he found out Blaine cheated on him.

“So I can watch you two be gross and be reminded how I’m single and not at Nyada? No thanks.”

“We’re not gonna be gross,” she protested. He gave her a look. “We’re not! He’s actually been wanting to get to know you better for a while, so this is just 3 friends hanging out.” She put a pinky out. “Pinky swear.”

And to her credit, she did uphold on that. Her and Brody have been very hands-off since they got here. But it doesn’t really make him feel any better.

The fact that he’s sitting in almost the exact spot he was when he watched Blaine have a breakdown on stage singing “Teenage Dream” isn’t really helping, either.

“So, Rachel says you auditioned for NYADA too last year?” Brody asks.

Before he can answer, Rachel bursts in, “Uh-huh! He sang ‘Not the Boy Next Door’ and he was amazing! Madame Tibideaux was crazy not to let him in!”

Brody looks impressed. “Wow, really? That’s a pretty hard song.”

He smiles tightly. “Yeah.” He knows Rachel is trying to help, but it’s a sore subject.

“I’m not much of a singer myself, so I’d love to hear you sometime,” Brody says politely.

He’s not a singer? Interesting…

“Oh, really? What are you in for?”

“Dance.”

Right, of course. Of course you don’t have to sing to get in. It’s performing arts. That includes everything else too; acting, dancing, etc.

“What sort of dance do you do?”

Brody shrugs. “Anything, really, but mostly ballet.”

Objectively, Kurt knows that ballet is not a scale of masculinity. There’s plenty of straight males who learn it. But admitting that out loud is something that would get you thrown in a dumpster in Lima.

“I took ballet when I was a kid," he admits shyly, atleast putting in an effort to keep the conversation flowing.

“Oh yeah? Why’d you stop?”

My mother died and people kept bullying me.

“Couldn’t really afford the classes anymore.”

Brody winces a little in sympathy.

“That sucks. I completely get that. I had to wait tables in high school to help pay the bills, so I get it. But the classes at NYADA are top-notch so I think you’ll really enjoy them.”

“I don’t go to NYADA,” he reminds him.

“I know, but you’re gonna audition again, right?”

Rachel, who has remained uncharacteristically quiet this whole time, is staring at him expectantly.

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna get in.”

Rachel pipes in. “Oh, Kurt, of course you’ll get in! You’re the most talented person I know!” And she adds on, “Well, besides me, of course.”

High praise coming from her.

“I guess we’ll have to see.” He doesn’t have high hopes. He honestly isn’t even sure he wants to audition again. He’s doing really well at Vogue. Maybe his rejection was a sign that he was meant for something else.

He doesn’t even understand where he went wrong the first time. Madame Tibideaux compared him to Hugh freaking Jackman. If that isn’t enough, then what is?

“Oh, my song’s up!” Rachel says excitedly. “Kurt, why don’t you come sing with me?”

“No, I’m okay. I’m not in the mood.”

She purses her lips in displeasure, but doesn’t fight him on it, instead leaving the table to go on her own.

“Why don’t you sing with her?” Brody asks after she’s out of earshot. “Might make you feel better.”

“Singing with Rachel sometimes is like a battle for dominance,” he admits dryly. He half-expects Brody to get offended on her behalf, but he snorts.

“Yeah, I can see that. She can be a little intense.” A little? “What, you’re not the competitive type?”

“Oh, I am. That’s part of the problem. She gets…touchy sometimes when she’s challenged.”

And while sometimes he enjoys poking at her to bring her inflated ego down, she’s being nice to him right now so he’s not gonna step on her toes.

“Why not sing a song on your own then?”

He blinks. “Is that allowed? I’m not a student.”

Brody shrugs. “Neither is your ex, but that didn’t stop him.”

Nothing would stop Blaine from going on stage.

But how did Brody know-? Of course.

“How much did Rachel tell you?” His tone comes out more accusatory than he anticipated.

He doesn’t need almost-strangers knowing he was cheated on. That’s humiliating.

Brody puts his hands up in surrender. “Nothing. She just said you were going through a break-up and we needed to come and cheer you up, that’s all. I remembered that Blair guy singing to you a while ago, and just assumed she was talking about him. Was I wrong?”

“No, you weren’t wrong.” He doesn’t even bother to correct him on the name. “That guy was my boyfriend. We broke up that night.” Well, technically a couple days later over text but he doesn’t think Brody needs the details.

“That sucks. Breakups are rough. First time?”

“Yep.”

“Ouch. A clap on the shoulder. “But hey, you can consider this an opportunity.”

“Excuse me?”

Brody gestures around him. “We’re in New York. There’s millions of people here. You’re a good-looking guy and talented from what Rachel says. Plenty of men out there who would go for you.”

Being called ‘good-looking’ by a hot, supposedly straight dude is intensely flattering.

“I’m not really looking to jump into anything,” he protests.

“Then don’t. Just walk into a gay bar, have some fun, and explore your options.”

“Hooking up isn’t really my thing.” That’s more like something Sebastian could pull off, but not him. He doesn't really know how to flirt or be sexy on purpose. He got Blaine through sheer luck.

“Have you tried it?”

“Well, no-“

“Then how can you know?” And Brody backtracks. “I’m not saying you have to. Not everyone’s cut out for it, but I’m just saying that as a young, hot, single, gay dude, you have options. One high school relationship doesn’t define you.”

Again with the compliments. He raises an eyebrow. “You are really invested in my gay love life for a straight guy.”

Brody actually laughs at that. “Not everyone’s as close-minded as people from Ohio.”

He’s learning that more and more.

“Do you really think I’m hot?”

“If I was into guys, I would totally go for you.”

Well, that's...something.

Before he can respond to that, Rachel comes sliding back in her seat. “Sooooo…what are we talking about?”

“Nothing,” Brody responds breezily. “You sounded great up there, babe.” It’s amazing how easy he can lie to her because neither of them were listening.

“Thanks!” She turns to him. “Oh, Kurt, I signed you up for a solo. You’re on after this next guy.”

“Wait, what?”

“Well, you wouldn’t sing with me, so I figured it was because you wanted a solo. I know that would be my reason.”

For the love of- “Rachel, you can’t just sign me up for things without asking me. I can’t go up there!”

“Why not? You have a lot of feelings right now and if we learned anything from Glee Club, it’s that we sing our feelings.”

She's not wrong. It annoys him that she's not wrong.

“Yeah, but I’m not prepared and this is really unexpected and-“ A glass gets shoved in his face. “What is this? Smells fruity.”

“Sex on a Beach,” Brody answers.

“Pardon?”

“That’s the name of the drink. A little liquid courage.”

“He’s underaged,” Rachel hisses.

“Well, are you gonna tell anyone?”

“No, but if someone finds out we can get in trouble.”

“You’d be surprised at how much you can get away with when you play it cool.”

Rachel bites her lip unsurely, clearly not wanting to look lame in front of her older, hot boyfriend. Kurt can hear the current guy’s song winding down.

Well, if he’s gonna make an idiot out of himself either way…

“Give it to me.”

“Kurt, are you serious right now?” Rachel asks him in disbelief.

Kurt takes a gulp, downing about half the glass, and scowls at Rachel. “All of this was your idea. You want me to loosen up and sing? Fine then. You get what you want.”

“I said ‘cheer up’,” Rachel mumbles. But he doesn’t care anymore as he stands to go to the stage.

He’s so tired.

Tired and frustrated.

Why can’t things just go right for him for a damn change?

He should have a boyfriend right now, he should be in NYADA.

All of this is absolute bullshit.

Why is he never good enough?

I want you to know, that I am happy for you.

His voice is a bit shaky.

I wish nothing but the best for you both.

He’d never given much thought into Alanis until Santana had let him listen with her on the bus ride to Regionals last year.

No one can channel spite in music quite like she can.

Cause the love that you gave that we made wasn’t able to make it enough for you

He’s back in front of that fountain, the dim lighting illuminating Blaine’s features.

“I was with someone.”

He clenches his jaw.

And every time you speak his name

Does he know how you told me you’d hold me until you died

He’s back at Dalton, Junior year.

“Why did you pick me to sing that song?”

“Kurt, there is a moment where you say to yourself ‘Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you forever’.”

His voice comes out in a growl.

 And I’m here to remind you

Of the mess you left when you went away

“I needed you around and you weren’t there.”

It’s not fair to deny me

Of the cross I bear that you gave to me

“Then you talk to me about it, but don’t cheat on me!”

You, you, you oughta know

How did he even let it get to this? Were there signs that he was ignoring?

When did it start? It feels like this all just came out of nowhere.

He hates it.

Was it really just a one-time thing?

“It was Sebastian, wasn’t it?”

“No, it wasn’t Sebastian.”

“Then who was it?”

“It doesn’t matter who it was with, Kurt!”

It was a slap in the face

How quickly I was replaced

And are you thinking of me when you fuck him?

Alanis would’ve been proud of how he spit out that last line.

Cause the love that you gave that we made…

He’s tired of being angry.

Tired of being second-best.

Tired of getting his heart stomped on.

He feels like he lost track of who he was meant to be.

He goes into the chorus again, finally ending it on one last raw

You, you, you oughta know

Deathly silent for a moment before everyone starts cheering. His ears are ringing.

Rachel’s eyes are wide and wet with shock when he gets back to their table and it feels weirdly tense as she just continues to stare at him.

Brody whistles to break the tension. “Damn, that was intense. Wish Alanis could’ve seen that herself.”

He doesn’t respond, throat feeling tight. When did it get so hot in here?

“Kurt,” Rachel looks close to tears, “You’re crying.”

He touches his face. When did that happen? Was it when he was singing?

He feels like he’s gonna suffocate.

“I need to go.”

Rachel grabs his arm. “Kurt wait-“

“I need air, Rachel,” he snaps out and she flinches a little. He feels bad. “I’ll be back, I promise," he says softer this time, "I’m just-“ Overwhelmed.

She nods, almost like a bobblehead. “I get it. Just bring your jacket, okay? It’s kinda chilly.”

He grabs his jacket and goes outside, the crisp air immediately a relief. He slumps against the wall, eyes stinging from the tears.

All those romance movies and plays he watched always told him how love was this beautiful, overwhelming thing, that finding love is the highest reward.

They never tell you what happens after.

They never show the lead character getting cheated on.

He’s lost.

It feels like his heart’s in a compression vice on a ticking time bomb.

The only reason he even went to New York was because Blaine encouraged him to go. And he apparently got so lonely he had to find solace in someone else.

He doesn’t understand. At all.

He’s angry- angry and hurt. But he feels like he made a mistake. That maybe he shouldn’t have broken up with Blaine over it. Maybe they could've just worked it out. What if he’s lost him forever now?  

Pathetic, isn’t it? But it’s not like he can make almost 2 years of love go away.

But Brody and Rachel are right. He needs to move on. They’re not together anymore, not right now anyways. He has a future to look forward to, he can’t just spend all his time moping around. He’s had to live with a broken heart before, when his mother died, when his father almost died, when Finn yelled at him in the basement, when he watched Sam sing a sweet duet with Quinn, when Blaine sang to Jeremiah Bad Hair, when he overheard his teachers tell him he wasn’t manly enough for Tony, when he read the NYADA rejection letter…

He survived all of that. He’ll survive this too.

He opens his Facebook. His profile picture is him and Blaine from the Junior prom, the cheap plastic crown flattening his perfectly coiffed head.

Well, an update was overdue, anyway.

He finds a more recent picture, one of him and Rachel in Times Square and replaces it, fingers only shaking a little, but whether that’s from the chill or his own nerves, he doesn’t know.

With even more hesitation, he changes his Relationship Status to ‘Single’.

As usual, his Notifications are extensive. Ever since Facebook updated, it feels the need to tell him what every single Facebook friend has Liked or seen in their lifetime. Super annoying.

The Warblers posted a video.

A video?

Out of curiosity, he clicks.

It starts with the harmonies he grew familiar with from his time there, but he doesn’t recognize the song.

Who’s gonna take the lead? Will it be Sebastian? No, wait, he’s not Captain anymore, right? So maybe that new guy.

It’s neither of them. Instead it’s Trent.

We were young and drinking in the park

There was nowhere else to go

Huh. He didn’t expect that. He knows the Warblers started being more collaborative when Sebastian took over, but to have someone else completely take the lead is a pleasant surprise.

He always thought there was a lot of talent going to waste. And Trent is good. A soulful baritone that he hadn’t quite expected of him. Seems like he’s genuinely having fun too. He doesn’t know the song, though. Based on the Warblers track record, he’s assuming it’s some Top 40 song and he’s never been one to keep up that much.

All too soon, the song ends, and a tall brunette takes over, the new Captain.

Can you blow my whistle, baby, whistle, baby

His eyebrows go all the way up to his hairline. A song about blowjobs. This is…for Sectionals, right? Isn’t this kind of inappropriate? It sounds good, he supposes, but no way can they perform this and not get disqualified.

They transition afterwards into some One direction song, Sebastian taking over this time. Despite not being Captain anymore, he still gets lead on a song. And lots of gymnastics too. These are not the same side-stepping doo-wopping Warblers he was a part of.

He doesn’t know what compels him to do it. He opens his messages.

To Sebastian: What song is Trent singing? [9:15 PM]

He gets a response almost immediately. 

Bad Blood. Bastille. Why? [9:16 PM]

No reason, I just saw it on Facebook and was curious. He sounds good. [9:18 PM]

I’ll make sure to tell him that. [9:18 PM]

The second song though…

Don’t you think a song about blowjobs is a bit inappropriate for a high school competition? [9:19 PM]

It takes longer to respond this time. Oh, did he say something wrong?

New Captain wanted it, so not my call. 🤷♂️ [9:21 PM]

He remembers there being an advisor when he was there. A teacher named Mr. Tucker. He was pretty hands-off, but surely he would step in for this, right?

Mr. Tucker didn’t say anything? [9:22PM]

As a former Warbler, you should know full fucking well he’s useless lol [9:23 PM]

That is…also unfortunately true. Blaine and the Council basically ran the whole show. Mr. Tucker was basically just window dressing. For all of his issues with Mr. Schue, and they are numerous, he can atleast give the man credit for keeping them relatively in line. He can only imagine how the club would’ve turned out if Rachel had called all the shots in sophomore year like she wanted to. He shudders at the thought.

But there’s something else here that’s bothering him.

He knows if the roles were reversed, Sebastian would probably ask him why he wasn’t the Captain anymore. But he also knows it’s none of his business. But still.

How come you’re not Captain this time? [9:25 PM]

He doesn’t receive a response this time.

“Kurt!” Rachel calls out from the door. “Are you coming back in? You’ve been out here for 30 minutes.”

Has it really been that long?

Still no response from Sebastian. Huh, maybe I went too far. He types out one more message before heading back inside.

Sorry, that’s none of my business. You don’t have to answer. [9:30 PM]

It’s when he’s back in the warm bar across from Brody again that his phone buzzes.

It’s fine. [9:33 PM]

Is it, though? But he’s not gonna push it. It’s hard to tell through text, but he clearly hit a sore spot somewhere. Their newfound truce is still a bit fragile, and he knows from previous encounters that Sebastian can get mean. He isn’t really all that keen on bringing that side back. Not now that he’s seen that Sebastian can be nice. He sort of likes the nice side. He’s a surprisingly sympathetic listener.

For lack of anything better to say he just types out-

Good luck at Sectionals! [9:36 PM]

-And places his phone down for the rest of the evening.

It’s as they’re walking back to the train station Rachel says, “So Kurt and I are having our own little Thanksgiving at our loft. You should come if you want.”

“Oh yeah?” Brody turns to him. “Is that cool with you?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, that’s fine I guess. The more the merrier.” And then he remembers. “Oh, crap.”

“What is it?” Rachel asks. “Is something wrong?”

“I forgot to tell my dad about my Thanksgiving plans.” He’d gotten so distracted with…everything else.

“Call him right now. We’ll wait.”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll do it when we get home. It’s already getting late and the trains don’t run forever.”

First thing he does when he gets back to Bushwick is call his dad.

“Perfect timing!” His dad says in place of a greeting. “Carole was just asking me about what time we should expect you next week.”

He hates to disappoint him, but…”Actually, Dad, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I won’t be able to come down for Thanksgiving.”

A pause. “What, you’re too good for your old man now that you’re livin’ it up in the big city?”

He knows his dad is joking, but it doesn’t stop the real guilt from taking over.

“I’m sorry, it’s just it’s so busy with Isabelle and Rachel didn’t wanna be alone and traveling is so expensive-“

“I get it, Kurt. It’s fine. You were only just here a couple weeks ago. Don’t want you to get in bad habits. But if money’s the issue, I can help you with the costs.”

“No, Dad, you already have so much on your plate. It’s fine, really.”

Another pause. “Is part of the reason you don’t wanna come back because of Blaine?”

He winces. He’s not entirely wrong, but he also knows Blaine has gotten really attached to his family. He may be angry with him, but he doesn’t wanna take that away from him.

“No, it’s not because of Blaine,” he lies.

“Well, alright. I’m not exactly thrilled about it, but I can’t force you. You’re an adult now. Just do me a favor?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Give us a call on Thanksgiving. Don’t be a stranger.”

He gives a tight smile even though he knows his dad can’t see it. “I will.”

“So, be honest with me,” he flops next to Rachel on the couch they just recently bought. “Was all that just a ploy to try and get me and Brody to ‘bond’?”

“No!” She says defensively. “Well, not all of it. He did actually wanna get to know you better.”

“But…?”

She sighs, “But I also just wanted to make sure you weren't mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because of what happened with Finn.”

He knows Finn is hurt. Heartbroken, even. But well-

“Rachel, Finn broke up with you after graduation.”

“Well, yeah, but-“

“He broke up with you and then didn’t contact you for months. The fact that he expected to just waltz back in your life with no warning and you could pick up where you left off was naïve of him.” He pats her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I think I really hurt him.”

“Maybe…but that’s not your problem. Just like Blaine being upset isn’t my problem anymore.”

“I’m sorry that he did that to you. I remember when I found out Finn slept with Santana. I was so humiliated.”

How is this remotely comparable?

“Yeah, but the difference is, you were with Jesse when that happened. He didn’t cheat on you.”

She huffs, “Maybe not, but still…being lied to like that, having Santana embarrass me in front of everyone…it still hurt.”

“This is for anyone that’s ever been cheated on.”

That horrible choking feeling he got when everyone stared at him, so accusing, like he was put on full display. Was that the first sign? Maybe he should’ve just let Blaine dump him then. Might’ve hurt less.

“Brody seems nice,” he says in lieu of the silence.

Rachel smiles softly. “He is. I still love Finn, I think a part of me always will, but Brody makes me feel…mature. Like I’m sexy and desirable, y’know? It’s nice.”

He can’t recall a time anyone’s ever made him feel that way.

“While you were up there singing, he called me hot.” He turns to her. “Are you sure he’s straight?”

She cackles at that.

The throbbing pain in his heart isn’t gone, but he does feel infinitely better than before he left the house earlier.

When he comes back to his section to go to sleep, he sees the message banner from his charging phone.

Sebastian: Thanks. 😊 [11:02 PM]

Chapter Text

“And the winner of the 2012 Sectionals is: The Warblers!”

Sebastian stares in shock at the stage as the scattered, uneasy applause picks up around him. After everything that’s just happened, he can’t really blame them. He’s not even sure how he should react.

All the Warblers around him are silent. This would normally be a time where they celebrate, but there’s a grave, uncomfortable tension floating above them.

“Holy shit,” Jeff whispers from next to him.

Holy shit, indeed.

This whole competition has been a fucking trainwreck from start to finish.

3 weeks earlier

“So, change of plans!” Hunter clapped his hands together. “We’re nixing ‘Bad Blood’ and doing ‘Whistle’ for Sectionals.”

Trent spoke up. “We already voted on ‘Bad Blood though.”

“Yeah, well, as Captain, I’m overriding that vote.”

“You can’t just override the vote. That’s not what Captain-“

Suddenly, a loud bang sound came from the wall, causing everyone in the room to jump. Sebastian turned to see what happened and found a cracked phone on the floor.

Did Clarington…just throw his phone? Anger issues, much?

Clarington, calmly, too calmly, went to pick up his phone. He pointed at Trent. “Looks like you owe me a new phone. Anyway, as I was saying, we’re doing ‘Whistle’. We need to prove to those judges we’re more than just some doo-wopping prep school boys.”

“Warbler Hunter,” Nick spoke up tentatively, probably not wanting an object to get thrown at him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but that’s a song you do for fun, not at a competition.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?!” Clarington’s tone was dangerous.

Nick flinched but continued on bravely. “It means it’s probably too explicit for a high school competition.”

“Exactly,” Hunter exclaimed. “We need to completely blow the judges away, we need to do something they won’t expect. And who’s gonna expect a bunch of goody-two-shoes boys in uniforms to sing a song about blowjobs?”

Sounds like a good way to get us disqualified. But he was keeping his mouth shut. Clarington made him uneasy, especially recently, and not just because of the blackmail thing. It was like his sanity was held together by a really thin rope, and anything could set him off. And as much as he hated to admit it, they looked and sounded incredible, and he’s selfish enough to admit that having lead on one of the songs atleast kept him from complaining too much.

Though maybe that was the point. Clarington was domineering, but if he didn’t atleast give some leeway for other voices, they would fall apart into a revolt. It gave the illusion that he was open for collaboration while still having an iron grip.

Sebastian would respect it if he didn’t wanna punch the guy in the face so bad.

He tuned back in to Nick and Clarington still arguing.

“Look, I get what you’re saying and the New Directions girls are a force, but the Warblers are still a democracy and we already made a decision. You can’t just speak over us.”

He half-expected Clarington to snap again, but the junior just smiled tightly, eyes dangerous. “Fine. You want a democracy? Then let’s take a vote right now. All those in favor of replacing ‘Bad Blood’ with ‘Whistle’, raise your hand.” And he raised his own hand as an example.

Majority of the group, barring himself, Trent, Nick, Jeff, and a couple other seniors raised their hands despite voting the opposite a week ago. Sebastian supposed he couldn’t really blame them. Who knew what kind of dirt Clarington had on them? And it didn’t take much to bring out his temper.

“Raise your hand, Smythe,” Clarington ordered.

He shrugged. “I’m choosing to abstain.”

Clarington narrowed his eyes and scoffed. “Doesn’t matter.” He looked back to Nick. “Majority says ‘Whistle’.”

Nick wasn’t happy, but he said through gritted teeth, “Then I guess ‘Whistle’ it is, then.”

“Glad you understand.”

A light knock on the door.

Mr. Tucker opened it. “Everything okay in here? I heard a slam.”

Clarington gave a sickening smile. “Everything’s great, sir. Just ironing out some details for Sectionals.”

“Perfect,” he said in a bored tone like the useless bastard that he was and handed off a piece of paper.. “Here’s your performance order. Call me if you need me.”

Who the hell would ever need him?

“Hunter’s still not back yet,” Trent mumbles, as they all prepare to go backstage. The first school is about to go on and they’re up after them.

“Where did he go?”

“He said he went to the bathroom, but that was like 10 minutes ago.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’ll go find him.”

Though he’d be better off if the asshole just disappeared.

There’s only one bathroom nearby. He’s lucky that he’s actually been to McKinley already a handful of times so he relatively knows his way around.

He pushes the door open.  

“Clarington? Are you in here?” he calls, not wanting to go all the way in. He wrinkles his nose at the smell. Public bathrooms are the worst. He thinks he might get a disease just being in here.

No response. Is no one in here? Maybe he should call him then. He’s actually a little grateful the guy forced him to get his number. He presses his name on his contact list and listens as the phone rings. And rings.

C’mon, answer, you asshole.

But wait- he hears something else. Like something’s vibrating. Did Clarington leave his phone in here?

He listens closer, stepping further in to follow the sound.

He sees a familiar Dalton uniform below the running sink. On the ground.

Oh, fuck.

He drops his phone on the hard tile in shock and immediately kneels over Clarington, who’s passed out.

“Hey.” He smacks his cheek lightly. “Clarington.” Another smack and no response. “Hunter.”

A light stir and Hunter looks back at him with glazed eyes.

“What happened?” Sebastian tries to ask. No answer and Hunter’s eyes start to flutter closed. Sebastian shakes him. “No no no no no, stay with me.”

He needs to get help somehow. But he can’t just leave the guy here, no matter how much of a dick he is. What if someone else finds him? Or worse…

Call!

He can call someone for help. He scrounges to grab his phone, swearing at the cracked screen, but pauses when he hovers over Trent’s name.

Fuck. He can’t call. All the Warblers will find out and make it into a whole ordeal and they’ll fuck up their performance. But he can’t just stay in here either. An ambulance, maybe? No, that will draw too much attention. And take too long.

“Call me if you need me.”

He needs to get a hold of Mr. Tucker somehow. And there’s only one person he can ask to do that without everyone at McKinley finding out.

It pains him…but he has to call him. He can only hope he answers.

He clicks the name in the contact.

Please pick up.

He’s about to lose hope when he gets to the third ring, but right on cue, a confused voice answers. “Hello?”

“Blaine!” he gasps out. “Thank God you answered!”

“Sebastian?!” Blaine sounds shocked. Did he delete his number or something? He’s not sure if he should be annoyed by that or not.

“Are you busy?”

“I’m in the middle of warming up,” is the wary response he gets. “Why?”

“I need you to get Mr. Tucker and send him to the bathroom closest to the stage. It’s an emergency.”

A pause. “Is this a joke?”

“No, it’s not, I swear! I don’t have time to explain, but I’m stuck here and I need Mr. Tucker.” And then to show how desperate he is, he pleads, “Please.”

Some chattering on the other end, Blaine’s voice muffled, like he’s holding a hand to the speaker and after an excruciatingly long amount of time, he says, “I got it. He’s in the audience, right?”

Oh, thank fuck. “Yeah, first row. Please hurry.”

“Yep.”

And then the line drops and he turns his attention back to Hunter. This guy has done nothing but make him miserable since they met. But he could also be dying right now.

Sebastian may not be a nice person, but he’s not a monster. Vaguely, he wonders how this situation would be if the roles were reversed. Would Hunter care if he found him like this? Well, he supposes he shouldn’t use a guy who blackmailed him as a moral compass.

…Would Kurt care?

He thinks of when Kurt sat next to him at the Lima Bean to make sure he was fine. Stupid question, of course he would. Kurt’s basically a saint.

He can only hope that Blaine is a decent enough person to actually follow through. That hopefully he wasn’t just being played so that he’d be stuck waiting here like an idiot while the Warblers perform without him.

…Blaine wouldn’t actually be that petty, would he?

In the past, he would’ve said ‘definitely not’, but with all the recent things he’s learned about him, he’s not so sure anymore.

He can’t really say he’d blame him too much after his most recent encounter with him.

2 weeks earlier

“So,” Clarington slung an arm around him, which he shrugged off. “Tell me about this Anderson guy.”

Why did he wanna know about Blaine?

He shrugged. “How would I know? He was at McKinley when I started.”

“C’mon, Smythe, don’t play dumb. I know you know that I know about your little parking lot incident with that guy. So spill.”

“Why do you need to know about Blaine?” He may have a more soured view on him after what Kurt told him, but Clarington’s interest could only mean trouble. And he did not need more trouble.

Hunter stared at him. “Well, the Warblers all seem to love him, so I’ll need your help recruiting him.”

What…?

“You…wanna recruit Blaine back to the Warblers?”

“Yep!”

“Why?” To be honest, it was something that had crossed his mind last year because the Warblers, mostly David and Trent, would not shut up about how amazing he was. But after seeing him play Tony and seeing what the Warblers could do without him, that initial idea popped pretty quickly. He wasn’t anything special. “The Warblers are better than they’ve ever been. We don’t need Blaine.”

“Well, duh! I’m in charge so of course we don’t need him.” A pause. “But they do. He’s their lead singer. And word on the street is that he’s off his game since the little twink that he transferred schools for dumped him.”

That’s his own fault for cheating.

There’s a part of him that feels a little defensive hearing Kurt just waved off as a ‘little twink’. Maybe part of that is guilt of how he himself wrote Kurt off last year….and intentionally made him think he was trying to steal his boyfriend.

“So what, you wanna pretend like you’re trying to recruit him, promising him solos, just to sabotage him and the New Directions?”

Hunter blinked. “I wasn’t gonna mention solos, but that’s a pretty good idea. The extra spice to the deal. I take it this means you’ll help me?”

Do I really have a choice?

“Sebastian?” A male voice calls from behind him.

He sighs in relief at the man in the doorway and Blaine next to him, looking a little disturbed.

“Mr. Tucker.”

The advisor kneels down next to him. “What happened?”

“I-“ he stutters out, “I have no idea. Trent said he never came back from the bathroom so I came to look for him and I-I found him like this and I didn’t want anyone to freak out, so I just called Blaine to come get you and-“

“I got it. Calm down.” He nods to Hunter’s form. “Here. Help me get him to standing position. I’ll take him to the hospital.”

“Shouldn’t you call an ambulance?” Blaine chimes in unhelpfully. Sebastian uses all his willpower not to snap at him.

Mr. Tucker sighs, “At this rate, it’ll be faster if I take him.” He looks to Sebastian. “You’ll be okay on your own?”

We always are. But he doesn’t wanna say that out loud. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Your group’s almost up. You should probably head backstage.”

“Do you need help, Mr. Tucker?” Blaine asks kindly.

“That would be great, thank you.”

He watches as Blaine leaves with the adult, one of Hunter’s arms around his neck.

His phone buzzes.

Trent: where are you???

Fuck.

“Sorry about that,” he whispers as he slides in next to Trent backstage.

“Where the hell have you been?” Trent hisses. “It’s almost time for us to go on.” And then he notices Sebastian’s alone. “Where’s Hunter?”

“We’re going on without him.”

“Wait, what?! Why? We can’t go without him, he’s the lead!”

“Not if we do Bad Blood instead.”

Trent clenches his jaw. “Where is Hunter, Sebastian?”

“He’s sick,” he finally snaps out. “Now hurry up and tell everyone about the set change. I’m gonna try to buy us some time.”

“You’re gonna what-Hey!”

But he’s already off. They go on in like 2 minutes. He needs to find that New Directions teacher. But where is he? All he sees on the other side is Kurt’s stepbrother. Wait…

He jogs over there, weaving between some Warblers.

“Hi. Finn, right?” Hopefully he remembered his name right. “You’re in charge of the New Directions right now?”

Finn looks rightfully wary of him. “Yeah, why?”

“Can you switch with us?”

“Switch?”

Does he really have to explain it? “Yes, switch. As in, you go before us instead of after.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

Why does everyone have to ask so many questions? Stay calm.

“One of our lead Warblers got sick suddenly, so we just need a little more time to sort things out.”

“Oh, damn, really? That sucks.” He nods at the door. “They’re heading in right now. Lemme see if I can-“

Suddenly, there’s polite clapping from outside drowning out Finn’s words.

“Up next, from Dalton Academy, the Warblers!”

Fuck.

Finn winces. “Sorry, dude. Good luck.”

This is gonna be a fucking trainwreck. Best he can hope for is that Trent relayed the message to everyone in time and he doesn’t choke on stage.

Trent looks pale and stiff as a board, like he’s about to pass out.

We’re fucked.

The harmonies start to come in. So far, so good.

We were young and drinking in the park

Trent’s voice is shaky. Understandable, since he didn’t expect to perform.

There was nowhere else to go

And you said you always had my back

Oh, but how were we to know?

Maybe they can pull this off.

All this bad blood here

No no no, Trent, you skipped a whole verse! Trent himself seems to realize this as he just stops, staring wide-eyed like a fish, while the rest just continue without him, some of the Warblers looking around in confusion.   

For fuck’s sake. He takes a deep breath and then joins in, nodding along.

And these little things define you

Forever, forever.

He gives him a ‘Keep going’ gesture and Trent gives a shaky smile.

All this bad blood here

Won’t you let it dry?

A freshman Warbler, confused by the verse skip, steps on his foot.

“Wrong steps,” he grits out.

The Warbler, Charlie, winces.

Trent’s starting in on the second verse, more relaxed than when he started.

If we’re only ever looking back

We will drive ourselves insane

As the friendship goes, resentment grows

We will walk our different ways

Everyone seems to be on the same page again.

Besides a flubbed note, the second half goes relatively smoothly.

All this bad blood here

Won’t you let it dry?

It’s a shame Trent’s first time performing is under this kind of circumstance. He sounds amazing.

It’s been cold for years

Won’t you let it lie?

The harmonies all slowly fade out as the Warblers get back into position. He puts a subtle hand on Trent’s back as a good will gesture.

A few second pause. And then into the next song. His turn now.

Hey, girl, I’m waiting on you (I’m waiting on you)

The repeat line is supposed to be Hunters. But Jeff takes it over, giving him a subtle nod. He smiles tightly.

Come on, and let me sneak you out

And have a celebration (a celebration)

They’ve got this. Illegitimate Warbler Captain or not, Hunter’s not a one-man show. The show must go on without him. And it will.

Despite pulling through in the second half, he doesn’t think they’ll win. New Directions is next and they have this very annoying habit of pulling a performance out of their ass with no preparation. Vaguely, he wonders how they would’ve fared in their situation, losing a member 3 minutes before going on stage.

He sits out in the first row, next to Jeff, watching as the New Directions, some he doesn’t recognize and some he does, file out in position.

“The girl’s dresses are pretty,” Jeff mumbles from next to him.

He really couldn’t care less, but he’s not gonna say that out loud.

He’s more interested in what they’re gonna sing. The mean part of him is hoping they mess up somehow so the Warblers can still win.

Is Blaine taking lead? Or maybe the wheelchair guy?

Oppa, Gangstam Style!

The Asian chick yells out and they all break out into dance.

Gangnam style…is this a joke?

But they’re not actually gonna sing it in Korean, are they?

낮에는 따사로운 인간적인 여자

They’re singing in Korean…what the fuck?

And maybe he’s not qualified to say this, but isn’t having the one Asian girl in their group singing lead on this kind of…racist?

Is she even Korean? He, personally, can’t tell the difference.

Nick leans over from the second row. “You’re hearing this too, right?”

He just nods absently. Nevermind the fact that this song isn’t even good, but it is a terrible choice for a competition in bumfuck Ohio.

Atleast the dancing is…decent. Part of him feels kinda bad for the Asian girl—Tina? That was her name, right? She sang at last year’s Sectionals and she’d been pretty good. This song doesn’t do her any favors.

Eh, sexy lady
오- 오- 오- 오 오빤 강남스타일

He wonders who picks the songs. Do they pick themselves like the Warblers do or does their teacher? He looks to where Kurt’s stepbrother is seated an aisle over, looking very proud. Did he pick this?

There’s a girl falling out of line towards the front. A new girl he’s not familiar with, a tall brunette. Her steps are wobbly, almost like she’s drunk.

He watches, almost in slow motion, as she topples to the ground, and the New Directions, with a black guy noticing first, one-by-one come to a screeching halt.  

“Oh my god,” Trent gasps. “Is she okay?”

Does she look fucking okay? Instead he says, “Considering they’re carrying her off the stage, I’m gonna say No.”

“We should help them,” Trent starts to stand, but Sebastian grabs his arm.

“No.” He points to Kurt’s stepbrother and two other women, one in a tracksuit going up to the stage. “Let them handle it. You’ll just get in the way.” They just need to get the girl off the stage and then they’ll continue, right? It’s a competition, so the show has to go on.

Apparently not. The boy carries her off to Finn and then follows him out, the rest of the group trailing after in worry.

They’re leaving?

“Leaving the stage before the performance is over is grounds for disqualification,” Nick mutters. “Do they know that?”

Even if they do, I don’t think they care. Their friend just collapsed. That’s a little more important than a competition to them…but then, what does that say about him? He found Clarington in the bathroom and still went to perform.

Does that make him a bad person?

You got him the help he needed. There was nothing else you could’ve done at that point, a voice in his head that sounds like a strange mix of Dr. Joe and Kurt tells him.

The younger Warblers are whispering amongst themselves.

“Now what?”

“Did we win?”

“I hope that girl is okay.”

“Where are the judges?”

At that moment, one of the judges, a middle-aged guy, comes to the stage and clears his throat.

“It would seem that the New Directions has left the stage before completing their performance.” Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. “Unfortunately, by doing this, they have removed themselves from the competition and will not proceed further. Please stay in your seats for the next few minutes while the judges deliberate between our final two contestants.”

So they did get disqualified then.

“Hunter gets sick and now this? Geez. This place is cursed.” Trent mutters.

He couldn’t agree more.

The sooner they get out of here, the better.

It didn’t take long before they were announced the Winner, but unlike the previous victories, the walk back to the charter bus was silent and tense.

He never thought winning could be so joyless. And for whatever reason, he feels responsible.

“This everyone?” The driver asks. “I thought you had an adult with you.”

Sebastian smiles tightly. “He had some business to take care of. Said he’d meet us back.”

The driver raises a skeptical eyebrow. “If you say so. You the last one on?”

“Yep.”

The bus starts driving off and it’s still so quiet. He’s never been one to complain about people not talking, but this sort of drives him crazy.

He stands, clearing his throat.

“Hey, guys?” He waits until everyone’s attention is on him. He just wants everyone to stop moping. They did win, after all. And they had a lot stacked against them.

“I know today was an absolute fucking trainwreck,” an understatement, “-but we still won, so if you want pizza when we get back, it’s on me.”

That perks them up a bit.

One of the sophomore Warblers, a blond kid named Tyler, pipes up. “That New Directions girl..is she gonna be okay?”

How the hell would he know? And why does it seem like they’re more worried about her than their own missing teammate?

“I have their captain’s number.” Do the New Directions even have Captains? “I can text him later and ask. I’m sure she’s fine. Probably just got overwhelmed at her first performance.”

“What about Hunter?” Trent asks quietly.

“Yeah, what happened to Captain Hunter?” Another guy, Michael, asks. “He just ditched us!”

Well, the performance is over, so might as well tell them. It’s not like he has any reason to hide it.

“Before the performance, I found Warbler Hunter passed out in the bathroom.”

“What?!” Trent squeaks. “I thought you said he was sick.”

He shrugs. “He was. Probably. I don’t know what happened, but Mr. Tucker came and took him to the hospital.”

“Why didn’t you just say that earlier?”

“Because we were about to go on stage and I didn’t wanna cause chaos.” And get us disqualified like New Directions. “Any other questions?”

The bus ride is silent until Warbler Charlie raises a hand. “I have one.”

Charlie’s kind of an airhead, so he wonders what it could be. “Okay, shoot.”

“What kind of pizza are we getting?”

And it’s like all the tension just evaporates as the other boys on the bus chuckles and start chattering a bit more animatedly.

Sebastian gives a sigh of relief and sits back down in his seat, which was previously occupied by Mr. Tucker.

Well, he’s atleast glad that’s over.

He gets a buzz from his phone.

Blaine ‘sex on a stick’ Anderson: congrats on your win [8:57 PM]

He snorts. He completely forgot he put that as his contact name. He hadn’t been paying attention earlier. Maybe he should change it. He’d only done it as a joke because he wanted to rile Blaine up. And Kurt, if he ever happened to come across it.

To Blaine Anderson: Thanks. Sorry you got disqualified. :/ [8:59 PM]

its fine.[9:00 PM]

Our own fault for leaving the stage -_- [9:00 PM]

Just in case Tyler or someone asks him about it later…

Is your friend okay? [9:00 PM]

Blaine takes a little longer to respond. Well, even if he chooses to ignore him, Sebastian did his part. It’s not like it’s really any of his business anyway.

Suddenly, someone sits next to him. It’s Trent.

“Did you…need something?” he asks in confusion.

Why is he switching seats?

Trent shrugs. “Nate fell asleep-“ Nate being another senior who was sitting next to him “-and I didn’t really feel like listening to him snore.”

“Can’t really promise I’ll be much better.” He’s feeling kind of exhausted, honestly, he almost regrets the pizza offer. Maybe they can do it tomorrow instead since it’s a weekend.

Trent doesn’t say anything, but he’s biting his lip like he wants to.

“What?”

“Huh?”

“You got something to say?”

“No, not really, just-“ He sighs, “I’m glad we won. I feel like if we would’ve lost, it would’ve been my fault.”

“Why would it be your fault?”

“Because I messed up my song.”

“You had like 2 minutes to prepare and it was your first time. Pretty sure most people would mess up.”

“Blaine wouldn’t have.”

“Well, you’re not Blaine,” he points out, snappier than intended. “I don’t really get why you have such a weird hard-on for him. If he was here, you wouldn’t have been able to sing at all.”

Trent’s mouth presses in a flat line. I pissed him off again, didn’t I?

“We all auditioned. Me, Nick, Jeff, Kurt even auditioned for a solo first thing when he joined-“ Really now? That’s pretty ballsy…“-But none of us ever got picked over him. And it was the council’s decision.”

That’s not what their Regionals performance that year tells him. “Didn’t they pick Kurt for Regionals?”

Trent snorts. “No, Blaine picked Kurt. Because he had a big, fat crush on him.”

“And also because Kurt told him he was a spotlight hog,” Nick joins in from behind. “What did he say?” He’s talking to Jeff sitting next to him. “Blaine and the Pips?”

Jeff snickers. “Yeah. Blaine was so embarrassed, man, I’d never seen him like that. Came up to me like-“ and he puts on his best Blaine impression “‘Jeff, do you think I have too many solos? Kurt says I have too many solos. Do you feel like a Pip, Jeff?’”

All three of the seniors are laughing now. “Wait-“ Trent says between wheezes, “Did he actually ask you that? What did you say?”

Sebastian’s feeling a little left out since he didn’t know any of them in that period. He was still in Paris when all of this went down, but this is also his first real time hearing about how Kurt was at Dalton. It’s very enlightening. This version of Kurt is very different than the version Thad told him about. This version is the one he’s familiar with, the one who’s very blunt and biting when he wants to be.

Jeff continues, “I was just like ‘I dunno, man, maybe he just wants to sing for you or something’.”

“What, were you trying to set them up?”

“Well, shit, maybe. I liked Kurtie and wanted him to be happy and it kind of felt like Blaine was just fuckin’ around with him.”

“Dude, Kurt was so fucking in love with Blaine it was crazy.” Nick rolls his eyes. “Literal heart eyes every time they were near each other. There’s no way Blaine couldn’t have known by that point.”

Trent starts to squirm a little. “Well, atleast it worked out for them, right?”

Sebastian winces and Jeff and Nick look uncomfortable.

Nick leans forward. “Trent, dude, did no one tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“They broke up a few weeks ago. I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

“Really? Why? They were so perfect together.”

Yeah, so perfect Blaine cheated…but does Nick know that?

Nick shrugs. “He didn’t really say, just that the long-distance thing didn’t really work out.”

That’s a nice way of putting it. Well, if Kurt isn’t willing to share, then it’s not his place to say anything. Not with how fast gossip spreads in this group.

“Man, I had no idea,” Trent says sadly. “No wonder Blaine seemed so down when he came to visit.”

There’s a buzz in his pocket. Well, speak of the devil.

Blaine Anderson: shes fine. [9:25 PM]

Hows your new captain? [9:25 PM]

“Who you textin’, Sebby?” Jeff asks curiously, attempting to look over his shoulder. He blocks his view.

“Blaine,” he answers. “He says congrats on the win, by the way.”

“Oh, really? Tell him we say hi!”

Yeah, he’s not doing that.

No idea. Haven’t heard anything. [9:26 PM]

And as an olive branch, he adds

Thanks btw. For helping me earlier. I owe you huge for that. [9:27 PM]

Dw about it.[9:28 PM]

Once a warbler always a warbler. <3 [9:28 PM]

It’s amazing he can say that about someone he barely even knew who tried to sabotage him.

Between him, Kurt, and the three next to him, it kinda feels like he’s getting a lot of kindness he doesn’t necessarily deserve.

Maybe he should bring that up with Dr. Joe at their next meeting.

Chapter Text

Thanksgiving was more eventful than he expected. He had expected a quiet night with Rachel and Brody over some vegan turkey. He hadn’t expected Isabelle to come over with a bunch of drag queens and turn it into a whole party, but he wasn’t gonna complain.

But now it was back to business. New Directions lost Sectionals and he feels a little more torn about it than he should. Obviously, that was his home school and his friends were still there, but well…they were up against the Warblers. Against Sebastian. With how far Sebastian has come, he couldn’t really find it in himself to root against him, the ‘enemy’ as Rachel called it.

“Oh my gosh, they lost?!” Rachel shouted out Friday night.

He had just been getting ready for bed. “Huh?”

Rachel flung open the curtain to his section with fanfare. “They lost!” She shoved her phone in his face with Blaine’s Facebook status glaring through the screen.

Blaine Anderson

Losing Sectionals right after losing my boyfriend…It’s not my year, apparently. :/

Feeling: Depressed

He suppressed the eyeroll at the jab to him. “Wow. That’s a first.”

“I know, right? What is going on over there? I know Mr. Schue is busy, but Finn seemed so confident.” A huge sigh. “Apparently some new girl named Marley fainted and they got disqualified.”

And judging by some nasty comments on Blaine’s status, from Tina of all people, they were not happy about it.

“So who won then? The Warblers?”

She pursed her lips. “Of course. Though personally, I don’t consider a win by default a real win.”

Something told him certain Warblers might agree with that assessment, especially since he hadn’t heard anything from Sebastian about it, but he was gonna keep his mouth shut.

“Maybe I should call him.” Rachel mumbled.

“Call who?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Finn.”

“And what would you say? ‘Sorry your first time teaching ended with you bombing at Sectionals’?”

“No!" She scrambled. "Well- I- I don’t know! I just thought hearing from me would make him feel better.”

“If the situation was reversed, would it make you feel better?”

A pause and then a heavy sigh, "No, not really.”

She chewed on her lip, a habit she never quite got out of. He sighed. “Rachel, look. I know you think it’s your job to manage Finn because that’s all you’ve done since sophomore year, but it’s not. It sounds like that competition was just bad luck and a freak accident.”

“Yeah, but you know him. He probably blames himself.”

True.

“I’ll talk to him," he offered up. "He is my brother, after all.”

She gave him a grateful smile and left him alone to sleep.

He wouldn’t be surprised if there would always be a part of her that would always worry about Finn. No matter how far apart they were and how many hot, New York boyfriends she brought home for Thanksgiving.

That was 3 days ago and he had completely forgotten to call him.

Well, no time like the present before he has to go to work.

“Sup, little bro?”

He rolls his eyes. “Finn, we’ve been over this. I’m older than you.”

“I’m taller, though.” He doesn’t even have to see him to know that Finn has a shit-eating smirk.

“Are you busy right now?”

“Nah, not really. Only just woke up. Why?”

He needs to just cut to the chase.

“Nothing, I just-I heard about Sectionals. Sorry about what happened.”

A pause. “Well, when the whole group leaves the stage, I guess it’s bound to happen. You must be pretty disappointed, huh?”

“No, why would I be?”

“Mr. Schue trusted me while he was gone. We went to freakin’ Nationals last year and I couldn’t even get us past Sectionals. It’s pathetic.”

So Rachel was right about him blaming himself. “Finn, you can’t control whether a girl faints in the middle of a performance. No one could’ve predicted that.”

“No, but if I was a better teacher, I would’ve known something was wrong. I could’ve stopped her from going on stage, got her help, made sure she ate something atleast.”

Ate something...“She passed out due to hunger?”

“Apparently she was starving herself since Grease.”

Suddenly, he feels a wave of sympathy for Marley. He hadn’t gotten to know her well before leaving, but she seemed like such a sweet girl. A sweet girl who apparently had low self-esteem and body image issues. He can relate to that all too well. He wonders if she was bullied for it the same way he was. He knows that mean, blond Cheerio is part of the club now…

“Maybe you could’ve, but speaking from experience, there’s only so much you can do if she never asked for help, y’know?”

“I guess…”

“You shouldn’t blame yourself. It won’t change what happened. All you can really do at this point is just be a safe space. I’m sure she needs people to talk to that she can trust and you can be that for her. Like you were for me.”

“I fucked up with you too.”

“Yes, you did," he agrees, "but you’ve more than made up for it since then. I don’t hold anything against you and I don’t think Marley does, either.”

A pause. “Thanks, Kurt.”

“You’re welcome.” He can hear the train pulling in. “Gotta go. My train’s here. Good luck with Marley!”

“Thanks. Good luck with…whoever your boss is.”

“Isabelle.”

“Right, her.”

He gives a fond eyeroll. Retaining information has never been Finn’s strong point.

And speaking of Sectionals…

He pulls up Sebastian’s name in his contact list as he steps onto the train.

To Sebastian: Heard about Sectionals. Congrats on your win!  [7:50 AM]

He doesn’t get a response before he has to get off the train, but he doesn’t really expect one. Sebastian’s probably in class and Dalton teachers are actually fairly strict about having phones out. If he gets a response, it probably won’t be until their lunch hour.

He tucks his phone away, forgetting about it for the moment as he walks into the large industrial building.

“Hold the door!” Someone calls and he puts his arm in the middle of the sensor. When the guy gets closer, he sees that it’s Chase, as gorgeous as ever. “Thanks. I did not wanna wait 10 minutes for the next one.”

“What, you didn’t wanna walk up 10 flights of stairs?” he teases and if he comes across more flirty than necessary, well it’s no longer an issue. He’s single now. He can flirt with his hot coworker, guilt-free.

“Well, I would, but then I wouldn’t get to share this tiny elevator with you.” Chase gives him a little wink and Kurt’s heart skips a beat.

Maybe he’s going crazy, but it sort of feels like these past couple weeks, Chase has been..hitting on him. Though he can’t imagine why…

Maybe he’s overthinking it. Chase is Italian, right? Maybe that’s just his personality and he’s comfortable enough around Kurt to show it to him. He’s been burned before from overlooking into people’s actions around him. Not again.

“Looks like we’re at our floor,” he mumbles, ignoring what looks like a slightly disappointed look from Chase. He will not get his hopes up, he will not.

“Oh, good!” Isabelle’s briskly walking towards them and he doesn’t miss the not-so-subtle wink she gives him. “Kurt, the phones are going insane today.”

He smiles tightly. “On it.” He honestly hates being on phone duty, but as an intern, he’s really in no place to bitch.

“You’re an angel, thank you.” She nods to Chase. “You’re with me. “

“Yes, ma’am.” Kurt can feel eyes boring into him but he doesn’t dare look to confirm.

About halfway through his shift, his phone buzzes. But it isn’t until the phones die down a bit that he’s able to check.

Sebastian: Thanks. It was a shitshow 🤣 [11:50 AM]

He snorts.

So I heard. In my 3 years of competitions, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone faint before.  [12:06 PM]

She wasn’t the only one. [12:07 PM]

We lost our Captain right before we went on stage. [12:07 PM]

Seriously?? Was something in the water or what? [12:08 PM]

No idea… [12:10 PM]

Well I’m sure you earned your win regardless. [12:11 PM]

He doesn’t know what New Directions performed, but those songs the Warblers posted would’ve been tough to beat.

Are you really cheering on your enemy, Hummel? 😏[12:12 PM]

I’m not in high school anymore. Plus I went to both Dalton and McKinley. I’m a true neutral. 😇 [12:13 PM]

Lol if you say so. [12:16 PM]

A knock on the open door startles him, almost causing him to drop his phone as Isabelle smiles sheepishly. Crap, did she see him texting on the job?

“Hey, Kurt, it’s quieted down a bit so if you want, you can go on your lunch break.”

His stomach growls in response to that.

“Oh! Okay.” He’s honestly a little relieved because now it means he can talk to Sebastian a bit more. Get a bit more scoop on what in the world happened at that Sectionals. He may not go there anymore, but his love for gossip hasn’t left him.

He heads across the street to the café and waits in the line.

So did you perform those songs I saw in the video? [12:19 PM]

2 of them. Took out ‘Whistle’. [12:20 PM].

Understandable considering the content. But he wonders how much of that was due to their Captain not being there.

“I can help the next person in line,” A cashier gently calls out and he absently moves forward as the line shifts.

Did you get to see New Directions atleast? [12:21 PM]

Yeah… [12:22 PM]

And how’d they do? Before they got disqualified, I mean.

Wow. [12:23 PM]

You’re just using me to get gossip? [12:23 PM]

I’m hurt 😢 [12:24 PM]

Oh god, it does look bad doesn’t it? He’s about 80% sure Sebastian’s joking, but just to be sure…

That’s not what I meant sorry. Finn’s been beating himself up about it, so I just wanted a second opinion on some things. [12:25 PM]

Yeah I figured lol I was just fucking with you. [12:25 PM]

Oh great, so now he just looks like an idiot. To a guy who’s way too damn sharp for his own good.

What did you wanna know? [12:26 PM]

“Sir, I can help you!” He looks up to see the cashier giving him an expectant, slightly impatient look. A look he perfected himself back at the Lima Bean. When did he get to the front?

“Sorry,” he breathes out, smiling. “If I may, I’ll take a medium caramel latte and a turkey wrap.”

“Sure. That’ll be $10.20.”

New York really doesn’t run cheap…

He grabs his receipt and goes to stand in the corner where his order will be prepped.

How was their performance? Be honest… [12:29 PM]

It fucking sucked. [12:30PM]

-_- [12:30 PM]

Hey now… [12:30 PM]

You said to be honest. 🤣 [12:31 PM]

Maybe saying that to Sebastian of all people was a mistake.

It couldn’t have been that bad, right? [12:32 PM]

They had that Asian chick singing Gangnam Style Kurt… Idk whose idea that was but it was terrible. 👎[12:31 PM]

…what?

A call of “Order #39, a caramel latte and a turkey wrap!” brings his attention back.

He grabs his little to-go box and his coffee, nodding politely. “Thank you.” But the barista had already shuffled off to do other orders.

With his hands full, he has to wait until he’s back in the office building in the break room before he can text again.

Please tell me you’re joking. [12:40 PM]

I wish I was. [12:40 PM]

Trust me. [12:41 PM]

Gangnam Style…As much as it pains him to admit, that definitely sounds like a Finn Hudson song suggestion. He’s pretty sure Tina doesn’t even speak Korean. Honestly, Marley fainting before they could even finish might’ve been a blessing for them.

….Did they atleast translate the lyrics? [12:43 PM]

Nope! Alllllll Korean. 🤪 [12:44 PM]

He scrolls through his contacts to find Finn.

To Finn: Gangnam Style?? Seriously?! [12:35 PM]

“Hi, Kurt.” He nearly jumps out of his skin, dropping his phone, watching as it bounces off the floor. A tanned hand picks it up for him, Chase looking a bit sheepish. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“O-oh, no, it’s okay. I was just-“ he breathes, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Not surprised. You seemed pretty invested. Got a hot date or something?”

He rolls his eyes fondly. “No, just a friend from back home.”

“Yeah?” Chase sits on the edge of his table. “He cute?”

“He’s a friend," Kurt emphasizes.

“Friends can be cute.”

He thinks of Sebastian, all tall and lean, with very green eyes that seem to see everything. How when he’d seen him talking to Blaine that day at the Lima Bean over a year ago, how threatened he’d felt.

“He’s-“ he hesitates, “Not bad, I suppose.”

“Not bad? So I still have a chance, then.”

He sits up straighter at that. Chase’s eyes are twinkling and he’s smirking.

He’s just kidding around, he has to remind himself. Probably just a natural flirt.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Chase asks.

“Huh?”

“Just now, after I said that, you shut down. And earlier too.”

“No, it’s just-“ he pauses, “I know you’re probably just a naturally friendly guy, but sometimes it seems like you’re serious so I’m just trying not to get my hopes up, is all.”

A long pauuse. Oh, maybe he was too honest. And he basically admitted he had a crush on his coworker. Awesome. He should start looking for other jobs…maybe that café across the street is hiring.

“You think I’m this friendly with everyone?” Chase finally asks.

“Well, I mean, I see you act almost the same with Isabelle-“

“She’s my boss.” He gets cut off. “But you’re not. I don’t really get any benefit from being ‘friendly’ with you.”

That’s… a little harsh. But there's a weird tension in the room now that wasn't there before.

He swallows. “I see.”

“You still don’t get it?”

“Get what?”

He huffs, “Kurt…I’m not just trying to be your friend.” And then he says bluntly, “I’m trying to fuck you.” Kurt freezes in shock, heat going to his cheeks, and Chase keeps talking. “I’ve wanted to the minute Isabelle introduced us, but you had a boyfriend at the time.”

Chase started getting more openly friendly right after him and Blaine broke up…he always thought the timing was odd.

But there’s no way, right? Chase is older, probably way more experienced too..he could have anyone.

“Are you…serious?”

“Do I seem like I’m kidding?”

He does not…and Kurt can’t fathom that.

“It’s just-I-“ he stumbles, “Why me?”

Chase slides closer, dragging a finger up his arm. “Pretty boys with big, blue eyes have always been my weakness.” He admits in a low tone, making him shudder a little. “You kept staring at me all the time, so I thought you were into me. Was I wrong?”

He gulps. “N-no, I- I just never even entertained the idea that you would look at me that way.”

“Really? Thought you’d be used to it by now.”

He can count on one hand the amount of men who ever showed any sort of romantic interest in him, and one of them was a high-risk closet case.

“I’m-“ he sighs, “Look, I’m really flattered, believe me, but I don’t think I’m ready to start another relationship right now.”

Or ever, possibly.

Chase shrugs. “Wasn’t asking you to.” He slides off the table, heading towards the door. “But living in a big city can be stressful, so if you ever wanna let off some steam, you know where to find me.”

Is he offering...a hook-up? That's a new one.

He smiles tightly. “I’ll think about it.”

It’s fairly slow afterwards, so Isabelle lets him go home early.

It’s after he’s on the train, he notices he got a text back.

Finn: yeah so [1:26 PM]

Don’t you think making Tina sing that is a little questionable? She doesn’t even speak Korean. [3:04 PM]

wait [3:10 PM]

tina is korean? [3:11 PM]

Yes?? [3:12 PM]

What did you think she was…[3:12 PM]

Please don’t say Chinese…

idk chinese maybe [3:13 PM]

Good old Ohio public school education at play.  

Finn… [3:14 PM]

You know that China is not the only Asian country, right? [3:14 PM]

It’s very important to me that you know that. [3:15 PM]

yeah dude I know that [3:16 PM]

ive seen japanese movies [3:17 PM]

He doesn’t even know what to say to that. He loves his brother, but it’s not the first time he’s questioned how the hell he even managed to make it in high school, let alone graduate. If a miracle ever happens and he somehow ends up with kids, he’s definitely not putting them in public school.

He puts on his headphones for the rest of the trip.

The loft is empty when he gets home. He’s assuming Rachel is either still in class or with Brody. Possibly both.

Well, all the better for him. Gives him some peace and quiet for a while.

He toes off his Docs and changes into a pair of sweats and his old McKinley Football t-shirt. It was so baggy on him when he was 16 and dainty and all they had for spare sizes was Large, but he fills it out now a lot more easily.

He opens his laptop, the application for NYADA staring at him, all the lines blank and untouched. It almost feels like a mockery having to go through this entire process all over again. Realistically, he should’ve filled this out months ago, but he just hasn’t had the heart to. Every time he sees it, it’s just a reminder that he wasn’t wanted.

As always.

He’s always the boy who never gets picked, whether it’s from Dodgeball teams in elementary school, for a lead role in a school play, for a prestigious theater school…

Until now.

Isabelle picked him to be her intern. He likes it there. His eyes have been opened to a whole new world.

“Pretty boys with big, blue eyes have always been my weakness.”

Chase had said that to him. And he’d seemed completely serious about it. Of all the people in New York, he wants him.

Maybe it’s shameful to admit, but being solicited like that, so forward in a way no one ever has been before with him…it makes something warm curl up in his gut.

It makes him feel wanted. And not as a last resort or the only available option. No, Chase had deliberately sought him out.

The question is…what should he do about it?

His phone buzzes.

Finn: oh yeah burt wants to know if ur coming for xmas [4:55 PM]

With a little bit of guilt, he realizes he hasn’t really thought about that. He already missed Thanksgiving, but unfortunately internships don’t really pay and traveling is expensive.

Idk yet sorry. :/ [4:56 PM]

-_- [4:58 PM]

Mom wants to visit my aunt [4:59 PM]

Finn’s Aunt Becky…Carole’s sister. He’d only met her once at his dad’s wedding, and that was the last time he ever cared to. His dad never told him the whole story, but apparently she had made some disparaging remarks about him and was not allowed in the Hudson-Hummel household. Carole, however, bless her heart, chalks it up to just ‘ignorance’ and thinks if she brags about him enough to her sister, her mindset will change.

He's been through enough homophobes in Ohio to be very skeptical of that outcome, but he can’t begrudge Carole for trying. She’s in a tough position between her old family and her new one. But if Carole wants to visit Becky, she’s likely taking Finn with her. And likely leaving his dad at home.

Is Sam gonna be there? [5:02 PM]

nah goin to Kentucky [5:03 PM]

Which means his dad might be alone for Christmas. He doesn’t like that idea. Especially since Christmas was always his mom’s holiday. Carole and Finn have been a good influence on him, on both of them really, but his dad has a tendency to get lost in his head when he’s alone. The idea of him spending Christmas like that, lost in the past, worries him.

I’ll have to see what I can do. [5:05 PM]

He just gets a thumbs up response.

He’ll have to talk to his dad later..

Christmas is coming.

Everything else can wait until after.

Chapter Text

It’s been over a week since the disaster of a Sectionals and Clarington still hasn’t come back. He’s not worried about the guy, not really, but he is what Kurt would describe as “nosey” and he wants to know what happened.

But still, practice has been peaceful without Clarington’s temper hanging over their heads.

He’ll relish in the peace while he can.

Right now, everyone is in study-mode for Finals, especially the seniors, so him, Trent, Nick, and Jeff are in the library.

“Sebby, do you have AP Biology with Turner?” Jeff whispers.

He snorts. “No, why the fuck would I take AP Biology?”

“Shhh,” Trent shushes passionately. “Don’t swear so loud in the library. You’ll get us kicked out.”

He rolls his eyes and lowers his voice. “No, I don’t have AP Biology. Science isn’t really my thing.”

“Ugh.” Jeff dramatically faceplants on the table. “Was I the only one stupid enough to take that class?”

“Considering you’re the only one trying to be a vet,” Nick answers dryly, “Yeah, probably.”

Sebastian cocks his head. “You wanna be a vet?”

“Yep,” Jeff sighs, “Ever since I was 10.”

He’s known Jeff for over a year now and had no idea about that.

“You’re in AP English, right, Sebastian?” Trent asks curiously. “What are you going to school for next year?”

2 pairs of eyes are on him expectantly. Nick isn’t looking at him, but Sebastian can tell by how his pen has slowed that he’s listening.

What he actually wants to do might not even be feasible anymore. Would there even be any point in telling them?

You told Kurt.

Well, that was different.

He shrugs, lying. “Nothing, really. My dad’s a lawyer, so I’ll probably just do that.”

Trent looks skeptical, but Jeff says breezily, “Well, you are really good at arguing.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“It was a compliment.”

“I’m sure.”

“Excuse me.” A female voice and a gentle knock on the table. It’s one of the librarians. “Sebastian Smythe?”

Her eyes dart around like she isn’t sure who she’s looking for. Fair, honestly, because until this year, he hasn’t been in here much.

“Yeah?” He answers.

“You’re needed in the Headmaster’s office.”

He furrows his brow and the rest of the boys look confused too. Last time he was called down there was after the slushie incident, when Mr. Anderson had gotten in his face and pressed charges. Or tried to, anyway, until his own dad had swooped in to sweet talk him. “Why?”

She smiles apologetically. “He didn’t say, I’m sorry. He did say it was urgent, though.”

The other three give him worried stares and he just shrugs. He hasn’t done anything that would warrant him getting in trouble.

He’s been on his best behavior this semester. And not just because of Clarington, either.

Clarington…could he have done something? Maybe he leaked the Paris incident. Maybe that’s part of the reason he isn’t here.

He knocks on the door of the Headmaster’s Office.

“Who is it?” A voice is muffled behind the door.

“Sebastian Smythe.”

A pause. These doors and walls are pretty thick, more than likely intentional to keep eavesdroppers like himself from getting information they’re not supposed to.

“Come in.”

He opens the door and tries not to get nervous when he sees both the Headmaster and an unfamiliar man in the room with him.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

Headmaster Collins, an unassuming middle-aged man with greying hair, looks grim. “Have a seat, Smythe.”

Okay, now he’s getting nervous. What the hell is going on?

“Do you know why you’re here?” Headmaster Collins asks.

He shakes his head. “I’m afraid I don’t, sir. Is something wrong?”

The older man ignores him, nodding towards the other man next to him, a younger, broader guy with closely cropped curly dark hair. “This is Detective Darius Tapper. He has a few questions for you.”

A detective? A pit starts to form in his stomach. Why does it feel like Clarington is behind this somehow?

“Mr. Smythe, was it?” Detective Tapper asks in a deep voice. “Are you familiar with Hunter Clarington?”

He really hates being right…

“Yes, sir. He’s the Captain of our show choir.”

“And are you close?”

Define ‘close’. “We were…acquainted.”

The detective narrows his eyes. “A week ago, Mr. Clarington was reported to have collapsed in a school bathroom at one of your show choir competitions, is that correct?”

“That is correct, sir.”

“And it’s reported that you are the one that found him, is that correct?”

“Correct.”

“Do you mind telling me the timeline of events?”

“Sure. It was about 10 minutes before we had to go on stage. We were at McKinley High School in Lima.”

“Amd what time was it?”

“I’m not sure. The competition started at 7, so around there, I guess.”

“I see.” Detective Tapper is scribbling things down, the scratch of his pen ringing through his ears. “So you were about to go on stage, and then what happened?”

“One of the other Warblers noticed that Clarington hadn’t come back from the bathroom, so I went to go look for him.”

“And you went alone?”

“Yes.”

“And then what?”

“I found Clarington passed out on the bathroom floor when I went to check on him.”

“And what did you do when you saw him like that?”

“At first, I was going to leave, but I didn’t want anyone else to find him like that, so I called for help instead.”

“Who did you call?”

“I called a mutual friend from McKinley.”

“And what is this mutual friend’s name?”

“His name is Blaine Anderson. He used to go to school here.”

“And what did you tell this Mr. Anderson?”

“I asked him to grab our advisor from the stage, so we could get help for Clarington.”

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Headmaster Collins interrupted. “Is this the same Blaine Anderson who was involved in your incident last year?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you call him and not Mr. Tucker directly?”

“I didn’t have Mr. Tucker’s personal number.”

“Then why not call an ambulance?” Detective Tapper comes back in. “Were you not concerned for your classmate?”

“Of course I was. But I didn’t wanna create a spectacle in the middle of a competition.”

“Can Mr. Tucker vouch for this account?”

“I’m sure he can vouch for Blaine bringing him to the bathroom, yes.”

“And what did Mr. Tucker do?”

“He took Clarington to the hospital himself.”

“I see. And did you go with him?”

“No, sir, I had to perform.”

A pregnant pause and Detective Tapper clears his throat. “So, lemme summarize what you’ve just told me. You found Mr. Clarington alone in the bathroom, called this mutual friend to get your advisor involved, and then went on as if the incident never happened once Mr. Clarington was in custody of an adult?”

“That would be correct.”

“And can anyone else corroborate this story?”

“Only the people involved, sir. Myself, Blaine, and Mr. Tucker.”

“What about Mr. Clarington?”

“He was unconscious. I haven’t seen him since the incident, so I don’t know how much he remembers.” He can’t take this anymore. “I’m sorry, what is this about? Is something wrong with Clarington? Why am I being interrogated?”

“Do you happen to be aware of why Mr. Clarington passed out that day?”

He’s getting ignored. He grits his teeth. “No, sir, I don’t. I’ve told you everything I know.”

“Everything, huh?” Detective Tapper pulls out an orange vial and sets it on the desk. “Do you happen to recognize this, Mr. Smythe?”

I feel like I’m an episode of Law and Order. “No, but it sure looks like an empty pill bottle,” he snarks.

“Don’t get smart with me, son.”

“Why are you showing me this?”

“Smythe-“ Headmaster Collins chimes in again. “When Clarington was taken to the hospital, they found a dangerous mix of opioids and steroids in his system.”

An overdose…

“And what does that have to do with me?” he asks slowly. Surely they don’t think he’s taking drugs…

“We have reason to believe that you’re the one who provided him the drugs, which I’m sure you well know, is illegal.”

What the fuck…?

“And what reason would you have to believe that? This is the first I’m even hearing of it.”

“That’s not what Mr. Clarington seems to think. I asked him where he got the drugs and he named you specifically.”

That fucking cunt.

“So you’re gonna believe a drug addict?” he scoffs. “You’re just gonna come here, disrupt my classes, and accuse me, another student, of being a drug dealer with no evidence? You know my dad’s a lawyer, right?”

“We’re well aware of who your father is, Smythe,” the headmaster sighs tiredly. “He should be on his way here himself.”

He’s what? Oh god.

“And where do you think we found this pill bottle, kid?” Detective Tapper’s tone is stern. “It was in your bag. With traces of the same opioids found in Mr. Clarington’s system.”

His bag…Now he understands. He’s getting framed. Clarington’s not even here and he’s still ruining his life.

“Look, I’m telling you, I don’t know anything about that shit, okay?”

“Language, Smythe-“

“No, fuck this! Clarington is setting me up, okay? He’s had a fucking grudge against me since he got here.”

“And why would he have a grudge against you, Smythe? Did you do something?”

His words get caught…Isn’t that the question. He doesn’t know what he did to Clarington.

“I- I don’t know. But I’m telling you, I have nothing to do with this.”

“You do have a history of causing trouble, Smythe.”

“Yeah, and I’ve done everything that I was supposed to since then so I could graduate. Why would I risk that?”

Both men are stone-faced. They don’t believe him. Of course they don’t.

There’s another knock on the door. Headmaster Collins clears his throat. “Who is it?”

“Robert Smythe.” The sound of his dad’s voice makes the blood in his veins turn to ice.

Unaware of his fear, the Headmaster calls his father in. “Very nice to see you again, Mr. Smythe. I only wish it was under better circumstances.”

His dad, impassive as always, raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Yes. I’m afraid I’m rather short on time, so you do mind giving me the summary of why I’m here?”

“Sure,” The detective clears his throat, “We have reason to believe that your son provided drugs to one of his classmates.”

“That’s a rather serious accusation. Sebastian doesn’t have a history with drugs. What led you to this conclusion?”

The headmaster points at the empty pill bottle. “This was found in his gym bag and matches the toxicology of the drugs in the boy’s system.”

“I see. Are his fingerprints on it?”

The detective hesitates. “We…couldn’t find fingerprint samples.”

“Then what makes you think it’s his?”

“He’s the only one with access to his bag,” the headmaster pipes in, “And given his history-“

“His ‘history’”-, his dad interrupts swiftly, “as you call it, was with assault, alcohol, and violating school curfew. As for the bag, anyone could’ve put that in there when he wasn’t aware of it. Without a fingerprint or any other identifier, it’s circumstantial at best. Do you have any other reason to believe my son was involved in a drug scandal?”

The way his dad turned this around so effortlessly is…actually a little terrifying.

“Mr. Clarington named your son-“

“Anyone can throw a name out there, especially if there’s a grudge. I repeat, do you have any other evidence that proves without a shadow of a doubt, that my son,” he points to him, “provided drugs to another student?”

The headmaster is silent, but the detective speaks up again hesitantly. “We’re still in the process of investigating.”

“And your method for doing that was interrupting a student’s learning so you could roleplay as ‘Good Cop, Bad Cop’? I can’t say I’m too impressed with that.” Detective Tapper flinches under his dad’s icy gaze. “In any case, I think we’re finished here for the time being and I’ll be taking Sebastian home.”

“Mr. Smythe!” Headmaster Collins calls out. “Perhaps we acted too rashly, but your son is still our top suspect at the moment.”

“Sounds to me like he’s your only suspect,” His dad responds dryly.

Headmaster Collins adjust his glasses nervously. “Yes, well, with that being said, until we can get this matter settled, it would be for the best if Sebastian didn’t interact with other students.”

Sebastian scoffs. “So what, you wanna lock me in my room? Slide food under the crack like a prisoner?”

“Sebastian,” his dad’s tone is warning. He turns back to the headmaster. “I understand he’s under suspicion, but you’re not gonna treat my son like a prisoner.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Yes. He stays home for the time being. This way you can search his dorm up and down to your heart’s content without disturbing him.”

The detective narrows his eyes. “And what about his car?”

“I’ll be driving him home, so he’ll have no need for it.”

“Dad-,” he tries to protest, but his dad holds a finger up, silencing him.

 “If you’d like, you can even search our house as well. We have nothing to hide. In the meantime, I can make sure all his homework is turned in so he won’t have to involve other students. Does that seem fair?”

All the men pause, the tension stifling until the Headmaster speaks up. “That…seems reasonable.”

“And what if, in our investigation, your son is actually the culprit?” Detective Tapper asks.

His dad smiles tightly. “Well, he’s an adult. If he’s committed a crime and you can prove that without a shadow of a doubt, then he can go to trial just like anyone else.” He turns back to Headmaster Collins. “Are we finished here?”

“Yes. Do you need to grab any belongings from Sebastian’s dorm?”

“No, I don’t think that will be necessary. I trust you’ll do a very thorough search of everything in there and I’d hate to hinder that.”

He narrows his eyes, the challenge obvious.

“In that case, you’re both dismissed.”

Sebastian speaks up. “What about Finals? Am I just supposed to not take them? They’re 20% of my grades.”

The headmaster blinks rapidly like it hadn’t even occurred to him. “Well, I suppose if the investigation works in your favor, you could take them when you return.”

That’s a pretty big ‘If’.

“Let’s count on that, then.” His dad puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, and nods to the two men. “Gentlemen.”

He didn’t get arrested, but having to follow his dad outside the building, curious stares from other Dalton students, he already feels like he’s going straight to the gallows.

His dad’s never been a huge talker, but the silence in the car is more deafening than usual. He had defended him back there, gotten him out of trouble like always, but the satisfaction that he would usually get from that is gone.

“They weren’t mine,” he speaks up, his voice feeling especially loud, “The drugs, I mean.”

His dad doesn’t respond, the only hint that he’d even heard him is how his fingers twitch over his shifter. He tries again. “I didn’t do anything wrong. You believe me, right?”

Please believe me.   

 A long pause before, “I believe you.” There’s a hint of something else. “But…”

His heart drops. But…?

They’re at a signal and his dad gives him a steady look, gray eyes sharp. “I need you to start telling me the truth.”

“I am.”

“That’s not what I mean. You’ve been very cagey the past couple months, quieter than usual, barely leaving your room at all.”

His hackles rise. “Because I’ve been focusing on school. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“You focused on school in Paris and you still had time for a social life. This is different.” That’s…true. “What are you hiding from me, Sebastian?”

“I’m not hiding anything. I just grew up, I guess.”

“Sebastian.” His dad pulls into a gas station. “One of your classmates is in the hospital for a drug overdose. He named you specifically to blame for it. If they can’t clear you, you could be tried as an adult and go to prison. I will fight tooth and nail to make sure that doesn’t happen, but I can’t help you until you start being honest with me. Why is that kid trying to implicate you?”

Oh. He’s worried. Like, really worried. His dad’s never been good with feelings, so sometimes he forgets that he actually has them.

He slumps into his seat, his defenses down. “The kid’s name is Hunter Clarington. He’s a year below me. We met at Warblers practice.”

“And what happened with this Clarington kid?”

He groans, “I don’t know. He just pinned me down in the library once and blackmailed me for Captain. I thought that was the end of it.” Apparently he thought wrong.

“Blackmail?!” His dad leaned forward, eyes flashed dangerously. “Sebastian, why wouldn’t you tell me this? We could’ve had this solved before it got to this point.”

Also true. “I guess I just didn’t want you to have to worry about bailing me out again. After last year, I figured I probably deserved it anyway.”

His dad pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing loudly. “For fuck’s sake, Sebastian, let me make this clear. You are my son. I’m always going to ‘bail you out’ whether you like it or not. I don’t like that all this was going on without me knowing.”

“I thought I could deal with it myself.”

“And how did that work out for you?” his dad snarks and Sebastian flinches a little. “I keep telling you that if you have connections, use them. A cease and desist would’ve ended all of this. Now where do the drugs come in?”

“I just found him on the bathroom floor at our competition and got him help. That’s all. I didn’t know anything about him taking drugs until today.”

“And he’s named you as his provider.”

“Yeah, but look- I swear to you I have no idea what that kid’s problem is, okay? He’s had it out for me since the beginning.”

His dad clenches his jaw, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps outside the car to fill up the tank. While he’s standing out there, he vaguely hears him talking to someone on the phone, posture tired. He didn’t realize until now how old his dad was starting to look. The man’s pushing 60, but he’s always been so put-together.

When his dad comes back in the car, phone put away, Sebastian dares to ask.

“So who were you calling?”

“Your mother,” is the short answer he gets.

“What? Why’d you call her?” He doesn’t want his mother knowing about this!

“Well, I think she deserves to know why her son won’t be visiting her this Christmas, don’t you?”

Wait a second… “What?! Dad! I don’t even get to go see Mom?!”

“Sebastian, you’re under investigation. If you even so much as leave the county, let alone the country, you’ll be labelled as a fugitive. And I would be liable for aiding and abetting you.”

“You offered to keep me at home so I wouldn’t be a prisoner, but I’m basically a fucking prisoner anyway. This is such bullshit.”

“Well, maybe next time you’re being blackmailed, you’ll tell someone so it doesn’t escalate to this.”

“So it’s my fault some fucking psycho wants to ruin my life?!”

“It’s your fault for trying to deal with it all alone. Just because you’re legally an adult doesn’t make you suddenly wiser. You’re still a child.”

And as if to prove his dad’s point, his eyes take that moment to start stinging with tears. “Can I atleast Skype with her?”

“I think that can be arranged.”

They’re in front of their garage, watching as it opens in front of them. “I guess I have no choice then, huh?”

“I’m sorry, Sebastian,” And to his credit, he did sound genuinely sorry. “Until we get this matter straightened out, this is the best we can do.”

“And what if we don’t?” His voice is pathetically small. “Do I just never get to see my mom again? I never get to graduate?”

“I’m not a psychic, Sebastian, I don’t know the answers to that.”

“Of course you don’t,” he spits out. That’s enough heart to heart for him for one day. He slams the car door behind him, not even looking back at his dad, or greeting Anneke like he usually would. Just beelines straight for his room, the door shut behind him, trapping him.

Why.

Why why why why why why.

He just wants to graduate, he just wants to be better. Why is this happening to him?

He needs to get his mind off of this. He opens his computer, his page already set on Facebook. Maybe mindlessly scrolling through social media will make his brain die enough that he can forget about his life falling apart.

‘Kurt Hummel got tagged in a recent video’

This new update is really invasive in his opinion, especially since he’s not even friends with Rachel Berry.

Rachel Berry

Surprise NYADA Audition from Kurt Hummel and he killed it!! <3<3<3

Feeling: Proud

How do you have a surprise audition?

He clicks on the video out of curiosity. He’s only heard Kurt sing twice. Once in a grainy 2011 Regionals video with a song that did his voice no favors, and a few words in a Michael Jackson medley that he didn’t have much of an opinion on. Is he actually gonna perform?

In the video, Kurt is standing wide-eyed on the stage, looking like a ghost. This was clearly a surprise to him too.

‘Hi, I’m Kurt Hummel and I’ll be auditioning for…NYADA Student’.

Cute.

A melancholic piano starts and he sits up in interest.

Someone to hold you too close

His voice is a bit shaky, thin even. Probably just the nerves. Poor guy clearly wasn’t prepared.

Someone to sit in your chair

And ruin your sleep

Kurt physically starts relaxing, and when he comes back in, his voice is stronger, richer. This key seems like it would be too deep for him, but he’s managing. More than managing, he’s nailing it.

The stage he’s on is huge, but it’s not overtaking him, which is impressive.

He doesn’t take his eyes away from the screen as he watches through the whole performance, sitting up straighter as it builds up to what he’s assuming is the end.

Being alive

He holds that last note steady for a fair amount of time before cutting off. Sebastian smiles, clapping softly along with the cheers in the video.

He doesn’t know what kind of performance Kurt gave the first time, but this one was damn good. And for a surprise audition? He’ll be very surprised if he doesn’t get in.

The comments seem to agree.

Mercedes Jones: damn kurt if that school wont let you in were gonna have words

Santana Lopez: didn’t know your balls could drop that deep, Lady. Nice!

Rude…That seems like something he would’ve said last year. But he was intentionally being an ass. Isn’t she supposed to be his friend?

Well…he supposes that’s none of his business.

He likes the video on instinct.

He hopes Kurt gets in.

Chapter Text

Kurt wakes up to the smell of something good.

“Mornin’,” he yawns as he makes his way in the kitchen.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” a voice that is definitely not Rachel’s greets him and Kurt freezes to find out who the trespasser is.

Brody is sitting on their couch, watching something on Netflix. Kurt raises an eyebrow. He can think of only one reason Brody would be here this early in the morning..

So she’s like that with him already, huh? Didn’t take long.

“Oh, good, Kurt, you’re awake!” Rachel calls from the kitchen, which is already questionable because she can’t cook to save her life. “I have something to discuss!”

“Can I atleast have coffee first?” He’s not dealing with an Rachel this early without some kind of caffeine in his system.

She lets him pass, but he can tell it’s reluctant by the way she fidgets with her fingers and how her gaze burns through his back.

What could possibly be so important to discuss this early in the morning? Once his mug is filled, he sits on one of the kitchen chairs. “Well? I can tell it’s killing you, so just say it.”

“We need to talk about this,” Rachel says while shoving her phone in his face.

“Great,” he responds dryly. “What am I looking at?” Because what he’s seeing is the video of his audition that she posted on Facebook.

Rachel tsks and points at the Likes. “Right there.”

Sebastian Smythe and 20 others liked your post.

“So?”

“’So’?” she repeats in disbelief. “Why is Sebastian liking my posts about you? How did he even see it? We’re not even friends!”

“He probably saw it because you tagged me.”

“Since when are you Friends on Facebook?”

“Since a couple months ag- does it really matter?” God, her voice is shrill.

“Of course it matters, Kurt!”

“Why?”

“Because he could be up to something. He’s always had it out for you and we both know you're way too trusting for your own good.”

“Okay, you are the last person I need to hear that from.”

She crosses her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Remember Jesse St. James?”

“Well-he-“ she backs down a little, “He’s changed since then.”

“So has Sebastian.”

“Who’s Sebastian?” Brody chimes in curiously. Kurt honestly forgot he was here.

“He’s just an acquaintance,” Kurt tries to brush off.

“Sebastian Smythe-“ Rachel starts, “Was the captain of the rival show choir from an all-boy’s school. He tried to blackmail me to drop out of the competition with horrible photoshopped pictures of Finn and then he injured-“

“Rachel,” he cuts her off. “Enough.” Mentioning Blaine is still a sore spot and he doesn’t exactly wanna air out all of Sebastian’s sins to someone who doesn’t even know him. “Being Facebook friends was my idea, okay? Because I saw that he wanted to make amends and I didn’t wanna be angry with him anymore. Now can we drop it?”

“Look, I just don’t want him to try and use you to spy.”

“I’m in a whole different state and the New Directions aren’t even his competition anymore. What could he possibly use me for?”

“Hey, not to interrupt,” Brody comes in again, “But I see smoke.”

Just then, the fire alarm goes off, sprinklers included and Rachel squeals in shock.

“Guess I’ll pick up a scone on the way to work,” he mumbles to himself. He’ll need to start banning Rachel from the kitchen.

He dries off his phone and sends a text to Sebastian.

To Sebastian: Rachel saw that you liked her Post and thought you were trying to sabotage me lol [sent 8:14 AM]

When the sprinklers finally stop, he gets ready for work, putting on his freshly ironed suit and coiffing his hair to perfection.

“I’m heading out, Rachel,” he calls out, but she doesn’t respond. Did she leave?

He peeks his head around the corner and sees her and Brody standing off in the corner, scraping her burnt pan together in the sink.

“Blackmail, babe? Really?” Brody teases. “How cutthroat was your show choir?”

“It was for a competition. It was life or death.”

“Clearly.”

They’re already so comfortable together so quickly. Seeing them together and how Brody flicks a little soapy water in Rachel’s face, it just feels like they’re off in their own little world.

He’s happy for her, but at the same time, it just makes him feel like he’s falling behind.

After having a boyfriend attached at the hip all through his senior year, being up here has just made him desperately lonely, even more so since he broke it off.

A flash of warm brown eyes goes through his brain. He can still hear Chase’s words from last week buzzing in his ear.

“Living in a big city can be stressful, so if you ever wanna let off some steam, you know where to find me.”

Well, if Rachel can do it, so can he.

Just his luck that the one person he wanted to talk to who was usually readily available is nowhere to be found. Isabelle has been sending Chase on a wild goose hunt today while Kurt’s been stuck on phones.

A light knock on the door and there the man is, somehow looking more appealing than usual. “Hey, Kurt, Isabelle said you could take your break.”

“Oh, then who will watch the phones?”

Chase shrugs. “I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure? Isn’t that beneath you?”

“Nothing here is beneath anybody. Even Isabelle answers phones. Every job keeps the business going. Besides,” he cracks his neck, “I’m fucking exhausted. Sitting on my ass sounds super nice.”

Now’s his chance. “Actually, um, while I’ve got you, I wanted to talk to you about something.” Chase gives him a curious look. He takes a deep breath. “A-about what we talked about last week, when you-“

He gets cut off by one of the phones ringing, Chase putting a finger up. “Vogue, this is Chase speaking, how can I help you?” A pause. “Sure, let me transfer you.” He hangs up. “What were you saying?”

Suddenly, what Kurt was about to say seemed really silly. What is he thinking? Chase is his coworker. Yeah, he’s the one who offered, but mingling with coworkers like that is never a good idea. He smiles tightly. “Nothing. I’ll relieve you again in 30 minutes.”

“Take your time.”

Kurt wishes he had someone to talk to about this. He’s only had sex with one person, and that one person was Blaine. Blaine was the first person he was really able to trust himself with like that and it was a struggle just getting it that far. Atleast, at first. Blaine was so hesitant to do anything with him beyond making out and once Sebastian came in the picture, it was like something flipped.

Sebastian…Sebastian had been through something similar to him, or so he said atleast. How did he move on? But is that really something Kurt has the right to ask? They’ve been friendly and Sebastian’s surprisingly candid, but they’re not really friends like that yet, are they? But he desperately needs someone to talk to.

He gets out his phone to find Sebastian’s contact, ready to send another message, but he pauses when he sees that the one he sent this morning is still Unread.

Huh.

Normally he would’ve responded by now. Their lunch hour is long past. He hasn’t been texting the other guy that long, mind you, but he has noticed he tends to be pretty consistent about replying.

It’s close to Exam Week over there. Kurt shouldn’t distract him from that.

He closes out his Message app and plants his head on the desk.

God, I feel pathetic.

It’s not like he wants to be hung up on Blaine, and it’s not even like he thinks he has to wait a certain amount of time. Blaine certainly didn’t. And neither did Rachel, for that matter.

But it doesn’t stop the traitorous part of his brain from telling him that he’s in over his head, that he’s deluding himself, and that he hasn’t been sad long enough.

His phone alarm goes off and he shakes his head of those thoughts, downs his coffee and heads back to work.

When he gets back, he sees Chase struggling with a giant tube of cloth and grabs the other end.

Chase gives him a sweet smile. “Thanks, Kurt.”

“No problem,” Kurt mumbles shyly, and clears his throat. “Where are we taking this?”

“6^th floor.”

Of course.

Kurt doesn’t dare say anything, doesn’t even dare to look because he knows if he does, he’s gonna blurt out something incredibly stupid that he won’t be able to take back.

“So, about earlier,” Chase starts talking instead, “What were you trying to say?”

“Sorry?”

“Before you left for your break. You wanted to talk to me, right?”

So he’s gonna bring it up. Should he just tell him? Chase was the one who offered in the first place, so it’s not like he’d be out of line. Possibly.

“It was nothing important,” he says, like the damn coward that he is.

Chase looks skeptical as he’s pushing the Elevator button. “If you say so.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would say Chase looks…disappointed, even.

After handing off the roll of cloth, they both step back in the elevator alone.  “Actually,” he speaks up, a small burst of bravery sparking through him. It’s now or never, right? “That offer you made last week…I wanted to know if it was still on the table.”

“Yeah, it is,” Chase’s voice is low and a little too intimate for a workplace elevator. “Have you been thinking about it?”

“Yeah, I have.” A lot more than I’m gonna admit. “I think I’d like to take you up on that.”

“Take him up on what?” Isabelle’s voice comes from out of nowhere and Kurt realizes that the elevator door is opened back on their floor. His face heats up at that realization. Shit, how much did she hear?

Chase speaks up. “Kurt seemed interested in learning Italian, so I offered to tutor him.”

Isabelle’s eyes sparkled in excitement. “Oh, really? How exciting! You’re already fluent in French, so Italian will be a breeze.” She squeezes his shoulder. “I love your enthusiasm, Kurt. I think you’ll go far here.”

“Thanks,” he says tightly, feeling a little guilty about lying to her but it’s not like he exactly wants to tell his boss he’s trying to fuck her assistant.

Though he had a feeling she would probably support him. She’s a bit unconventional that way.

When she leaves, a hand grabs the crook of his elbow, burning through the cloth of his suit. Chase leans forward and whispers in his ear, “If you’re free, we can go to my place when we’re done.”

He nods mutely, trying not to shudder.

Chase gives him a little wink before leaving and Kurt suddenly feels the need for a tall glass of water.

“Welcome to Casa di Chase.”

It’s a modest one-bedroom apartment, but in Manhattan, modest is still much more than he could think to afford, so it’s definitely nothing to sneeze at.

“Want something to drink? I got sparkling water.”

“Sparkling water sounds nice,” he mumbles, hands tightening on his shoulder bag. He tries to crack a joke. “Surprised you’re not offering alcohol.”

Chase furrows his brow. “Aren’t you underage?”

“Well, yes, but-“

“Is that how I come across to you?” Chase’s tone is a little colder than usual.  “A guy who has to get men drunk before I fuck them?”

Oh. He’s offended.

“No, I-“ Kurt pauses, “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry. It was just a bad joke.” Oh god, he already screwed it up, didn’t he?

Chase gives him a long stare before opening up the bottle of sparkling cider. “I used to be that guy. I was selfish and hurt a lot of people because I just wanted to get laid. Got myself into legal trouble and straightened up.”

Oh, that’s…something. “Why are you telling me all this?”

Chase shrugs, sitting next to him and setting two glasses of sparkling water on the table. “So you know what you’re getting into. I don’t know what kind of guy your ex-boyfriend was, but I’m not some Prince Charming who’s gonna sweep you off your feet. I have experience and a lot of it. And once we do this, there’s no going back. We can’t ever just be regular coworkers again, you get that, right?”

“I know that.” Kurt unbuttons his suit coat, rolling the jacket off. Maybe there’s a part of him that should be concerned with what Chase said, maybe there’s a part of him that should be concerned with how woefully naïve and inexperienced he is in comparison, but the fact that Chase is sitting here, the fact that he’s giving him an opportunity to leave and change his mind, it tells Kurt one thing.

I can trust him.

He clears his throat. “So, when do we start?”

Chase gives him a funny look. “Start what?”

Kurt, feeling brave, puts a hand on his knee, and looks at him from under hooded eyes. “Our Italian lesson.”

He’s at a hot guy’s apartment alone, a hot guy who for some reason wants to have sex with him. And he also just happens to be single and very sexually frustrated. He’d be a goddamn idiot to fumble that.

Chase’s eyes darken and he cups the top of Kurt’s neck. “Here’s Lesson 1.”

Kurt’s been kissed by exactly 3 people in his life, and none of them have been like this.

Confident, searing, sexual. Like he’s desirable.

He pulls on Chase’s collar, climbing on top of his lap to grind against him, groaning when the other man’s teeth scrapes against his lip. He can feel Chase’s hands burning through his clothes and he wants more. He wants to touch skin.

With shaking, eager hands, Kurt undoes the top buttons from Chase’s shirt, sliding his hands around the well-defined collarbone.

Chase untucks Kurt’s shirt from under his dress pants, unbuttoning from the bottom up, and whistling when he finishes the last one.

“What?” Kurt crosses his arms. “What is it?” Is he regretting this?

“Ever since you started, I’ve wondered what you were hiding underneath all your fancy suits,” Chase answers wryly. He pokes one of his abs, causing Kurt to flinch. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Sorry, I’m probably not that impressive compared to other guys you’ve been with.”

Chase raises an eyebrow. “You’re kidding, right?” Kurt doesn’t respond and Chase flips him over so they’re on the couch. “You’re extremely fucking hot.”

“I see.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

Kurt tries to protest. “I didn’t-“

“It’s fine. I got all night to prove it to you.”

All night…

Deft hands start unbuttoning his nice pants and he can feel the tent straining uncomfortably against his briefs.

Chase swirls a tongue around his left nipple and Kurt bucks in shock.

“So, you’re sensitive there, then, huh? Noted.”

“Kinda sensitive everywhere right now,” he admits a little shamefully as Chase switches to sucking on his collarbone.

When Chase releases, stroking the new bruise that’s formed, he tutters, “Yeah, I’m noticing.”

His hand grazes over his crotch and Kurt gets a spark of pleasure. God, it’s been too long since anyone’s touched him like this.

“Ass up,” Chase orders and Kurt blinks in confusion.

“Huh?” Is he telling him to-

“Lift up your ass so I can get your pants off. I imagine you don’t want them to get ruined, right?”

Is Kurt really that predictable? Then again, Chase is in the fashion industry, so maybe they just have the same mindset. That would be a first.

“You’re absolutely right,” and raises his pelvis so the pants can slide down his legs effortlessly. His heart squeezes just a little when Chase actually takes a moment to fold them and set them aside instead of just tossing them haphazardly to the corner like Blaine used to do.

Don’t think about Blaine, you idiot, you’ll ruin it. Everyone knows thinking about cheating ex-boyfriends when you’re with another guy is bad luck.

He can see Chase making his way downwards as he palms him through his underwear and he tenses up in anticipation. Is he really gonna give him a blowjob? He’s only ever experienced it one time, though he’s done it plenty more than that.

“I don’t really like doing that, Kurt. Having someone’s genitals in your mouth is just gross.”

He’d been really disappointed by that, but he wasn’t gonna force the issue. Some people just have different preferences. Apparently Chase’s were a bit more lenient. And there he goes thinking about Blaine again. Think about something else! Think about the fact that your hot coworker wants to give you a blowjob. Isn’t that a good thing?

“Don’t throw yourself around like you don’t matter. Because you matter, Kurt.”

Is…that what he’s doing? Just throwing himself at the first guy to give him any attention? That’s how he’s always been, hasn’t it? With Finn, with Sam, with Blaine…and now with Chase. What is wrong with him?

“Wait,” he stops and Chase pauses.

“What’s up? Cold feet?”

“No, it’s just- I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

“My dad.”

Chase blinks slowly, looking mildly disturbed for some reason. “You’re thinking about…your dad. While I’m about to blow you?” he asks slowly. “I mean, I don’t kinkshame or anything, but-“

What…

“What?!” And in horror, it dawns on him. “Oh god, no! No no no no no no no, ew. Not like that.” Chase barks out a laugh at his reaction and sits back, waiting for him to explain. “No, I just meant- I’m thinking about how disappointed he might be if he knew what I was doing right now.”

“Oh, is he an asshole?”

“No, quite the opposite. He’s probably the best dad I could ever ask for.”

“Then why would he be disappointed in you?”

Kurt sighs, bringing his legs in as he sits up. “Before I came here, before I even kissed a boy really, he gave me the talk. He told me not to throw myself around like I don’t matter.”

“Wise words. How old were you when he said that?”

“17.”

“And is that what you think you’re doing right now? Throwing yourself around?”

Kurt does hear a little bit of judgment in his tone, but he’s electing to ignore it. “I don’t know, maybe. I mean, we’re not actually dating or anything, so…”

“Do we have to be?” Kurt doesn’t have a response to that and Chase continues. “Don’t get me wrong, I think that’s really good advice, especially for a teenager in the Midwest. You never know what kind of trouble you can get yourself into.” Kurt can sense a ‘but’ coming. “But, do you want my opinion?”

He feels like he’s gonna get an opinion whether he wants it or not. “Shoot.”

Chase puts a hand on his bare shoulder. “I don’t think it’s that deep. You’re an adult now, and part of being an adult is learning who you are and what you like. Not everyone’s built for the long haul and there’s nothing wrong with having fun. Just be smart about it.”

“But my dad-“

“Would want you to live your life without worrying what he’s gonna say if he’s as good as you say he is. Do you think if you were straight he would try and stop you from dating and fooling around however you want?”

Kurt doesn’t have an answer to that. He remembers his dad being pretty disappointed in Finn when he was bouncing between Quinn and Rachel. But then he also vividly remembers one night in that basement when he’d been alone with Brittany and all his dad had to say about it was ‘Use protection.’ But that very well could’ve been because the man knew nothing was gonna happen.

“I honestly don’t know,” he answers honestly.

“Well, I don’t, either. But I do know one thing and it’s that I wanna suck your dick. But if you’re not up for that anymore, then I’m gonna go to bed.”

Kurt wrinkles his brow. “You’re not gonna kick me out?”

Chase gives him an offended look. “I’m not enough of a scumbag to send someone out to Bushwick alone in the middle of the night. Especially not a coworker and a friend.”

“Are we friends?” Kurt asks, hating how small and pathetic his voice sounds.

“Sure, if you wanna be. I’ve told you a lot more than I usually tell people I sleep with.”

“I wanna be,” Kurt answers softly. “Friends, I mean.”

“Good to know.” And then Chase disappears into what Kurt’s assuming is his bedroom.

When he comes back, he sets a pair of clothes on the arm of the couch. “You don’t strike me as the type to sleep naked.” He clarifies at Kurt’s confused look.

Kurt’s cheeks heat up. Oh god, he’s been naked this whole, hasn’t he?

Self-consciously, he pulls a soft white shirt on over his head and Chase chuckles.

“Hey, you don’t have to cover up on my behalf. I was enjoying the view.”

Kurt bites his lip guiltily. He’s just imposing now. And he didn’t even do what he initially came for.

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I ended up just screwing up your plans.”

Chase doesn’t respond immediately and Kurt’s a little afraid to look at his face.

“How old are you again? 19?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Chase shrugs. “I don’t think anyone expects you to have it all figured out. I sure as fuck didn’t at 19. I was a hell of a lot worse off than you are too.” A hand claps on his shoulder. “But…think about what I said, okay? There’s so much you need to experience out there. It would suck if you missed out on it because you’re afraid of what other people would say.”

And with that, he turns off all the lights except the lamp next to Kurt and there’s a latch of a door behind him. Kurt takes the opportunity to check his phone.

Sebastian still never responded to his message, which is mildly disappointing, but he does have a few missed calls.

3 Missed Calls from Rachel Berry

He probably should call her and tell her where he is before she sends out a ‘Missing Persons’ report.

Nixing the greeting, she just shouts out.

“Kurt?!”

“Yes, it’s me, you don’t have to yell.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“Because it’s late.”

“I know it’s late and that’s why I called you. Where are you? I’ve been worried about you!”

“I crashed at a coworker’s place in Manhattan. I’m fine. I just called back to let you know that.”

A pause.

“…Is this a male coworker?”

Her tone’s a little too judgmental for his liking.

“Good night, Rachel.”

“No, Kurt, wait-“

He hangs up, annoyed. Who is she to judge him when she started dating Brody almost as soon as she got here? Not that he can blame her because he does have eyes, but still..

He sets his alarm for 8 AM. He’s not thrilled about going across town in a long walk of shame without atleast showering first, but all his products are at home and thankfully, he has the day off tomorrow.

He’ll deal.

Maybe the commute will help clear his head and he can figure out what it is exactly he wants. So that next time he sees Chase, he won’t make such a jackass of himself.

He presses his face into the arm of the couch, hoping sleep will come easy so he doesn't have to think anymore.

It doesn't.