"If you want to go home with that hand, you'll take it the fuck off my ass!" Kurt hisses through clenched teeth, not even turning to stare down the offending asshole currently palming his left cheek.
"Aww, come on," the faceless cloud of vodka-infused breath whispers, "you're so tense. Why don't you come with me to the bathroom and we'll loosen you up."
Kurt's head lolls on his shoulders as he turns his neck to at least get a good look at the man whose face he will most likely be describing to a police sketch artist later that night. Kurt's eyes cross as he tries to bring the man into focus, but when he does, he barks out a laugh, his voice hoarse from one too many shots of Cuervo Gold Especial. Sky-high mousy brown hair with a pasty complexion, but worst of all he's wearing a grey flannel vest over a black button down shirt. This man bears such a striking resemblance to Kurt's old glee club instructor Will Schuester that in another life he could very well have been Will's son…which makes the unwelcome come-ons just that much more revolting.
Kurt deliberates, debating whether a few lewd innuendos and a squeezed cheek are good enough reasons to waste a shot of good tequila straight to the man's face.
The man leans in closer, uncomfortably closer, apparently at the ready with more cheesy pick-up lines when another voice, smooth as satin and much more sober than either one of them, weighs in on the conversation.
"You don't listen too well, do you, Jesse," the voice says. "The man said no."
Jesse, Kurt thinks. The annoying handsy-man's name is Jesse. Best to imprint it on my brain for later 9-1-1 calls.
"I don't think it's any of your business, Sebastian," Jesse snarls at the man standing behind Kurt, the owner of the sexy voice who came to his rescue. "In fact, we were just about to head out of this clap-trap, weren't we…uh…"
Jesse gestures at Kurt, trying to get Kurt to give up his name, but Kurt just watches Jesse's hand flop around in the air in front of him like a dying fish. The swaying motion starts to make Kurt nauseous. He lurches forward off the bar stool, momentum trying to carry him the rest of the way to the floor, but a pair of strong arms grab his elbows and keep him upright.
"Alright, sunshine," Sebastian's voice says soothingly, "why don't we get you to the bathroom before you lose your dinner here on Jesse's shoes?"
Jesse steps in front of them, tapping his toe in frustration.
"Oh, so you're just going to steal him away for yourself?" Jesse gripes, crossing his arms over his chest like a spoiled three-year-old.
Sebastian sighs.
"On second thought…"
Sebastian pauses, waiting for Kurt to throw a name his way, and Kurt does, because where Jesse looks like he could be a convicted molester, Sebastian's voice makes Kurt feel oddly safe.
"Kurt…" Kurt mutters. Kurt tries to force his body to stay upright on its own, but his body gives him a healthy 'fuck you' and stays limp in Sebastian's grasp.
"On second thought, Kurt," Sebastian repeats (Kurt can hear the smile in his voice, and he imagines it must be an incredible smile), "why don't you go ahead and puke on Jesse's shoes, since he's so fucking hell bent on blocking our way."
"I…I'm not too sure it wouldn't be an im-improvement," Kurt stutters, belching uncontrollably for good measure. Jesse gasps and mutters something impolite and mostly unintelligible, but Sebastian's warm, throaty laugh makes up for it. He maneuvers poor Kurt around a stunned a repulsed Jesse, who mumbles, "I hope he throws up all over your cock," while Sebastian leads a wobbly Kurt away.
"Well, that was unpleasant," Sebastian comments, steering Kurt to the cleanest toilet in the restroom. He shoves him gently between the shoulders and closes the stall door behind him.
"Have at it, governor," Sebastian commands, and for whatever reason that's enough to start the flood of vomit that empties from Kurt's stomach with such a vile and disgusting noise that three men open the bathroom door, but turn tail and leave without answering their call from nature. Sebastian laughs and shakes his head in disbelief when five minutes goes by and it seems like Kurt is never going to stop throwing up.
"Wow," Sebastian says, "do you usually suck this bad at holding down your tequila?"
"Fuck you," Kurt manages as the vomiting turns into dry heaves. "I had a really bad day."
"So you decided to drink your dinner?"
Sebastian rips some paper towels from the dispenser by the sink and soaks them with cool water. He hands them over the stall wall to Kurt who takes them with a shaking hand, using the other to balance against the opposite wall.
"Thanks," Kurt mutters, his throat having gone from slightly hoarse to burning with the unholy fire of hell. "You can kind of say that."
"Well, I can also say you're stupid as fuck," Sebastian observes.
"What? For drinking too much?" Kurt's words slur and do nothing to hide his resentment. "Yeah, I'm the only person in the world who's ever done that." Kurt bursts through the stall door a little harder than he intends and stumbles to the sink to get a look at himself in the mirror, mostly to make sure that he didn't manage to vomit on his sapphire blue Marc Jacobs dress shirt.
"No, not for drinking too much, princess. For drinking alone," Sebastian clarifies. He wets another paper towel and carefully holds this one to Kurt's forehead while Kurt leans his head over the sink, the cool against his heated skin helping him to think straight. "You have fresh meat written all over you, and I know that Jesse wants to mount you to his wall."
"How do you know?" Kurt hiccups. "Have you ever been mounted by Jesse?"
Sebastian snickers, turning the paper towel over to keep Kurt's forehead cool.
"No, but I know the look. And he wasn't the only man out there who had it."
Kurt peeks up into the bathroom mirror to see if Sebastian has that look, too, and gets a good look at the man who's been taking care of him. The first thing Kurt notices – the first thing Kurt ever notices – is how a man dresses…and this man dresses well. In contrast to Jesse's 'choir teacher chic', Sebastian is wearing a Burberry cashmere peacoat over a simple grey tee and immaculate black skinny jeans, all clinging to a body that screams, "Touch me. I work out." Kurt breathes in deep, trying to clear his head, and catches a whiff of Sebastian's cologne. He smells clean and fresh, like earth after a spring rain. Kurt chances a glimpse at Sebastian's face and sees two green eyes – deep and clear, like blown glass out of the fire in that second when it's still full of heat before it's doused in water – staring down at him. Perfect pink lips twist into a grin that's smug and judging, but in a playful way; and if Sebastian isn't blessed enough, he has a head of chocolate colored hair that Kurt has an overwhelming urge to grab by the handful to see if it's as silky as it looks.
Jesus fucking Christ! Kurt thinks, as the urge to sink into the floor and disappear comes over him. This insanely handsome man just got the privilege of listening to me puke for the last five minutes.
"So, are you going to tell me why a sexy man like yourself is swimming in a bottle of tequila alone on a Tuesday night?" Sebastian asks, tossing the wet paper towel away and handing Kurt a dry one. Kurt takes it with a terse, "Thanks", and hurries to catch the drips that are falling around his cheeks.
"I kind of don't want to tell you," Kurt grumbles into the mirror so he doesn't have to face the fire of Sebastian's eyes directly.
"And why is that?" Sebastian asks, jutting out his lip and pouting. "I thought we were becoming so close."
Kurt smiles involuntarily, and his entire face hurts.
"Because it's cliché and tired, and you've probably heard it a hundred times before."
"Well, why don't you make it a hundred and one." Sebastian leans a hip against the wall and waits patiently.
Kurt turns to look at Sebastian, not backing down from the challenging gleam in his eye.
"It's my ex-boyfriend," Kurt starts, happily impressed when that doesn't automatically elicit a dramatic eye roll or an exaggerated sigh from Sebastian. "He moved out to New York to try and get back together with me. I've told him over and over that I'm not interested, but he doesn't seem to get the hint. And he comes up with all these campy little anniversaries for nonsense shit, like the first time we ever held hands or the first time we ever saw It's a Wonderful Life. So he calls me up and invites me out to celebrate these inane milestones of his, but it's really just an attempt to get me drunk and into bed, because he knows I'm sentimental and he thinks that every time he can get into my pants it's just one step closer to me taking his ass back."
Sebastian's smirk starts to fade a touch around the edges, but his eyes…those eyes are still so dangerous it's hard for Kurt to keep looking into them.
"And how often does that work?" Sebastian asks.
Kurt sighs, humiliation seeping out of every tired muscle and defeated bone in his body.
"Every…single…fucking…time…"
Sebastian nods, and there's something in the way his jaw tightens that makes Kurt think that maybe he knows what Kurt's going through.
"So why do you fall for it then?" Sebastian asks. His voice loses some of its playful quality. It sounds softer, more compassionate than Kurt had expected.
"Because I'm lonely," Kurt answers quietly, inexplicably unafraid to bare his wounded soul out before this man, even if he is a stranger…probably because he's a stranger. "You know, all the reasons any pathetic single person has for constantly going back to something toxic. Because I crave human contact. Because it's there…because it's familiar…because it's a sure thing."
Sebastian pushes off the wall and walks towards Kurt, looking him over, eyes roaming over his slouched form. Kurt's eyelids narrow, and his blue eyes follow Sebastian a bit warily, slightly unnerved by the change in Sebastian's attitude.
"What?" Kurt asks defensively when Sebastian's thoughtful smile turns into a wolfish grin.
"I think I may have a proposition for you," Sebastian says. "Something that might help keep you out of your ex's bed."
Kurt rounds on Sebastian who had stopped a few feet away to check out the view of Kurt from behind.
"What do you mean?" Kurt asks. "Keep me out of my ex's bed?"
"Well, do you want to keep pity-fucking your ex? Or would you like to try someone new?"
Kurt shakes his head slowly, still thoroughly confused, even though the fog of alcohol has started to lift.
"Look, princess, let's just say I know how you feel." Sebastian looks down at his shoes while he gathers his thoughts. "I know what it's like to need someone to touch, someone to touch you back. I'm currently between asses myself, and yours is pretty damn hot." Sebastian gives Kurt another good long look, but unlike Jesse's lecherous, unwanted stares, the way Sebastian's eyes rake up and down Kurt's body makes Kurt want to strip for him slowly to give him a better view. "How about I violate yours for a while?"
Kurt chuckles when Sebastian finishes, rolling his eyes, but soon he notices he's the only one laughing.
"Wait…you're serious?"
"Very," Sebastian affirms, crossing his arms over his chest.
"And why would a man as…" Kurt fumbles for a word, thinking of every adjective he could possibly apply to Sebastian, and still coming up short. "Why would a man like you want to make an arrangement like this…with me?"
Kurt winces at how self-depreciating he sounds when he should really just be thanking all sorts of make-believe deities that this man wants to have sex with him at all.
"Actually, you'd be doing me a big favor," Sebastian says. "Frankly I'm getting a little tired of trolling bars and picking up random men. And I'm not looking for a relationship right now. So, having a scheduled playdate with another healthy, hot, like-minded individual would work out great for me."
Kurt listens intently. It sounds way too good to be true, which immediately makes Kurt suspicious.
"And how exactly would this work?"
"We'll meet here every Tuesday and Thursday night at six p.m. after I get off of work, and head over to my penthouse. We'll do the deed, and you can be home before nine…or midnight? Depending on how things go, I guess." Sebastian wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
"Why your place?" Kurt gives Sebastian a sidelong look, still not quite convinced that this is a good idea.
"Because my office is literally five minutes away from my place," Sebastian says. "And by the way, I don't do overnight guests."
Kurt crosses his arms and huffs.
Figures I get to be the one to do the walk of shame every Tuesday and Thursday night.
Kurt considers everything Sebastian's said, trying to find the hidden loophole in his plan; the thing that's going to truly fuck Kurt in the ass.
"So, we do this until when?" Kurt asks.
"Until we don't want to anymore," Sebastian says with a shrug.
"You mean, like if one of us gets a boyfriend?"
"That's a matter of personal preference," Sebastian says with a wink. "Or until you start having feelings for me."
Kurt laughs out loud this time.
"Until I start having feelings for you?" he barks. "Because there's absolutely no chance of you developing feelings for me?"
"I don't get attached to people, babe," Sebastian says, his voice suddenly hollow and flat. "That's how I survive."
Sebastian sounds so sad, like he's already given up on something he hasn't even given a chance; it throws Kurt a little off his guard. He doesn't like this sound in Sebastian's voice.
"So, you want to be my 'fuck buddy'?" Kurt says with a healthy dose of contempt in his voice, something he hopes will bring back Sebastian's snarky attitude.
"In essence."
Kurt scrunches his nose and shakes his head.
"I hate that term though."
Sebastian sighs and looks up to the ceiling.
"Okay, how about friends with benefits?"
"Why?" Kurt smirks. "Are you offering me dental? Medical? Maternity leave?"
Kurt's lips form an unexpected 'o' of surprise at his own comment, and Sebastian laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling adorably…at least adorably to Kurt.
"Look," Sebastian says, trying to calm his laughter, "call it whatever you want, princess."
Kurt thinks for a second, but the pounding that's starting in his head erases every other thought.
"I'll think of something appropriate later." Kurt waves his hand in front of his face dismissively.
"So, is that a yes?" Sebastian asks, holding out a hand to Kurt, waiting for Kurt to shake it.
Kurt looks at Sebastian's hand, biting his lip, trying not to seem too eager. Yes, this is kind of a cold comfort relationship – except not a relationship, as Sebastian was so quick to point out he's not looking for one, but it would fulfill a lot of Kurt's needs as well. He needs to find a quick fix, a way to keep the edge off so he's not waking up drunk beside Blaine two or three times a month; and as far as quick fixes go, he could do a lot worse than Sebastian.
Besides, if Kurt is being completely honest with himself, Sebastian looks like he'd be an amazing fuck.
"Okay," Kurt agrees, taking Sebastian's hand and shaking it. "You have a deal. Where do we begin?"
"We begin by making sure we're both on the up and up," Sebastian says, keeping a tight hold to Kurt's hand and leading him out of the bathroom. "That means you and I get a clean bill of health and meet back here in two weeks. Oh, and no sex outside of us without informing the other. It's not necessarily a deal breaker, but I would like to know where you're sticking your wick if you're going to be with me."
Kurt nods, not really wanting to answer out loud as the crowd in the bar has thinned considerably and many of the remaining patrons are watching them, listening to their conversation as they make their way to the front door.
Sebastian leads Kurt out the door and into the chill night air, all the way to the curb. He leans over the edge and whistles for a taxi.
"Where are we going?" Kurt asks as the taxi pulls up, startled that Sebastian can actually get a taxi so quickly when Kurt usually tends to wave his arms over his head frantically for half an hour before giving up and walking to the subway.
"Not we…you." Sebastian opens the taxi door and helps Kurt inside. "Right now, I'm sending your sick ass home. Drink some water. Get some rest. I want you healthy and sober the next time I see you."
Sebastian reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. To the cab driver he hands a gold credit card, which the man looks over appreciatively before swiping it through the reader and handing it back to Sebastian. To Kurt, Sebastian hands a business card printed on heavy, black cardstock. Embossed on the front in white is the name 'Smythe' and a series of phone numbers and email addresses.
"Now, that's all my contact info. If you're feeling like doing something stupid again like drinking yourself sick or sleeping with your ex, you give me a call and we'll work something out." Sebastian leans in quickly and kisses Kurt on the forehead, much in the same way a father would peck their kid on the head before school. "But please let's try and be a big boy and not get into too much trouble. Okay, princess?"
Sebastian shuts the door before Kurt can have his say, and smacks a hand down on the roof to let the cab driver know he's good to go.
"So, where are we going?" the cabbie asks Kurt.
"Uh…Bushwick," Kurt stutters. He turns, expecting to see Sebastian walk back into the bar to proposition another man perhaps, but he hails another cab, gets inside and heads off in the opposite direction. Kurt's cab speeds away and he starts to feel nauseous all over again. He looks down at the business card in his hand, reads the many numbers over and over until he has some of them memorized. He thinks over the whole night, and every word Sebastian said, and how it all made sense as long as he was looking into Sebastian deep emerald eyes. But now, sitting in the back of a taxi on the way home to dry out before starting a purely sexual 'arrangement' with a gorgeous man, all he can wonder is what exactly did he just agree to.