Most of the time, Sebastian doesn't mind. In fact, he usually prefers it; no smalltalk, no obligations. He has scheduled his life around chasing orgasms, not persons; likes to think of himself as a gay Barney, or a young Brian Kinney. It's easier not to care. Kurt is the perfect example of what happens when you care too much. He had his whole life planned out, his perfect fairy tale life with his prince charming- until the guy decided to ride off into the sunset with someone else. Or just to ride someone else… to the same effect. As far as Sebastian is concerned, relationships are more trouble than they are worth. He's a free agent.
His 'acquaintances with benefits' arrangement with Kurt is based on the fact that they are both single, horny, and not interested in romance. Between college and side jobs to pay for the steep New York rent, neither of them has the time or the energy to spend dating. It's mutually beneficial and very satisfying.
But every now and then (and more often of late, certainly more than he'd like to admit), Sebastian catches himself behaving strangely.
"Look at me," he whispers hoarsely, nudging Kurt's chin with his hand and trying to make him turn his way. Kurt frowns, keeping his eyes closed. He presses back against Sebastian's chest, stretching and rolling his muscles in a feline movement that complements his graceful build. "Kurt," Sebastian insists, and shifts away so that Kurt ends up rolling onto his back. Kurt opens his eyes. They are not clouded by love or desire but are clear and critical as ever.
"What?" he asks sharply, faintly annoyed.
Sebastian doesn't reply but moves over him instead, resting his weight on one hand by Kurt's shoulder as the other takes hold of their dicks. He slides his thighs between Kurt's and tries to use them as leverage to get Kurt to open underneath him, keeping his eyes focused on Kurt's. Kurt sighs, impatience and urgency clear on his face, but the friction wins and he gives a little, bucking up in Sebastian's hand. His eyes slip closed as Sebastian fingers him, but they fly open again as Sebastian takes hold of his ankle and tries to pull his legs around his waist.
"Bastian," he sighs wearily, "not like this. You know I can't come this way." He doesn't even sound very reproachful, just tired and disappointed, like an exhausted mother repeating something to a toddler.
Sebastian lets out a breath and drops Kurt's leg, moves away so Kurt can turn around again, and then pushes into him from behind, eliciting a grateful gasp from the boy beneath him. It's good- in fact, it's incredibly hot and Kurt is responsive and tight and very flexible- but Sebastian can't repress the small pang of regret he feels knowing that even after several months, Kurt still prefers to close his eyes and think of his ex or some fantasy film star lover when they have sex.