"Pack."
"What?"
"Pack!"
"What?"
"You heard me. Pack. We're leaving," Kurt says, shoving a handful of clothes—jeans, several dress shirts and swimming trunks, a rain boot tangled between the sleeves of a Dalton blazer—into an almost absurdly large purple suitcase.
"What?" Sebastian snaps, book slipping from his fingers as he watches Kurt cram the entire contents of his closet into the suitcase. "Kurt!"
"Pack," is all Kurt answers, not looking up from where he stuffs toiletries into the outer pockets of the suitcase.
"Kurt. You're getting married tomorrow," Sebastian says, voice harsh. He aims for disconcert, as though the mere tone of his voice could enlighten Kurt to the levels of irrational his present self exhibits, but instead lands on confusion and agitation.
There's silence, in which Kurt pretends to fold up some of his clothes and ignores Sebastian's heavy gaze.
"Are you getting married tomorrow?" It's apprehensive and cautious, and Kurt wants to laugh at how gentle his voice sounds, because he doesn't need to be protected.
The laughter seems to get lost on the way to his mouth, however, because rather than the confident and sure noise Kurt was expecting, his reply comes out sounding scared. "No," he says, and his voice shakes. He wills the tears that are burning against his eyes away, but they slide down his cheeks anyways, and he hastily brushes them away. "No."
Again, there's silence, but this time, their eyes are fused together as Sebastian crouches by him, and tries to understand. His eyes race over Kurt's face, the glittering tear tracks and pleading expression, disheveled hair and dark, tired circles beneath his eyes, and he nods almost imperceptibly.
He doesn't ask though, and Kurt is so grateful.
"Where to?" He asks instead, barely a whisper, and it sounds like a promise.
Kurt huffs out a breath, looking down at his sock-clad feet before turning his eyes to the world map posted above Sebastian's desk.
"I don't know," he admits. "Let's just…go."
Sebastian nods.
He gestures at the suitcase, a smirk sliding onto his lips. "Got any room left in there for me? Or did your custom-made mattress take up the—"
"Shut up," Kurt interrupts, blushing. "Just pack."
They dump a few of Sebastian's clothes into the suitcase, throwing in a toothbrush and shampoo and soap and even a fluffy pink loofah Kurt burns onto the back of his head for future teasing material.
"Let's go, then," Sebastian says enthusiastically when they're done, heaving the overfilled case onto his back and leading the way out of the apartment.
"It's cold," Kurt remarks when they reach the car.
"Put on your jacket," Sebastian mumbles, trying to find his car keys.
" I forgot to pack it."
"You forgot your—you packed your whole entire closet—including a tux and three beach towels—and forgot your jacket?" Sebastian cries exasperatedly. "You can never forget your jacket on a road trip, much less when you have no idea where you're going."
"Should I go get it?" Kurt asks, eyes wide.
"No, just get in," Sebastian says, rolling his eyes.
Kurt's lips draw up in a tiny, tiny smile.
"So."
"So," Kurt echoes.
"Where to?"
"Paris is always a good idea."
"We can't drive to Paris. I can go get my credit card though, if you—"
"Bas, I was kidding. Just... take me far."
"How far is it 'gonna be before we're almost there? I forgot to pee," Sebastian mutters under his breath, snorting at Kurt's glare.
The other man sniffs haughtily, turning away and leaning his head against the window, but he's smiling too. He answers,
"We're already almost there. Andnowhere near it. All that matters is we're going."
A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope it's good, I just got really inspired because I was watching Gilmore Girls and Lorelai does the same and I liked the mystery of it all which is why I wrote it like its written. I hope some of you got the "Paris is always a good idea" thing and that's all. Thanks again!