firsova prompted: "I just want soulmates!seblaine so badly and you haven't write something like that as I remember. bless you *з*"
summary: Ever since he was little, Blaine's heard the story about your soulmate's name being written on your wrist. At sixteen, Kurt Hummel appears on his skin, and yet he can't seem to shake the attraction and connection he has to one Sebastian Smythe.
notes: kurt and blaine never transfer to McKinley, this is just Dalton based.
Part one of three.
000
As long as he can remember, he's known about a certain order pertaining to life. That his parents taught him and their parents taught them before that and so on and so forth, working up and down the family tree through the branches until the very source. His mother sat him down when he was young, perched him on her lap, ran her long fingers over the inside of his wrist and rocked him as she spoke.
She smelled like sunflowers and felt like pure sunshine, a warmth that bores still in his skin.
"When you turn sixteen," She said, brushing her lips over his forehead. "A name will appear right here." She presses the tree of blue veins on his wrist. "And that's who you're destined to be with. They're your soulmate."
Blaine remembers frowning, pulling at his mother's sleeve to look at her wrist, his father's name etched into skin. "But how?"
"The universe just knows. Knows who you are and who you're not and that everyone belongs to someone." She taps her finger against his button nose.
"But what if they don't like bowties…or sketti like I do?" His fingers move to touch the tie around his neck. It's his grandfather's, too big, hangs loosely and skewed to the side no matter how many times he fixes it.
She laughs, the sound has a musical quality to it. "Of course they will Blaine bear." She tickles him, making him laugh. "That's the beauty of it. You're assured to be with someone who likes the same things you do and loves you for who you are for the rest of your life."
It sounds like a childish dream, when he thinks back on it, even though the romanticism of it all still pulls him in, yanks on his heart strings.
Blaine recalls her voice, how it reverberates like the slow and steady sound of a violin—
"Soulmates are connected at the wrist with a red string of fate," she strums her fingers over his wrist like she's flicking a string, the sound silent but somehow vibrating throughout the room, waves lapping against the walls and his skin, "they are destined lovers, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. The cord may stretch or tangle, but never break."
Even then Blaine doesn't understand how a person has just one soulmate and how this magical red string is supposed to determine them for you at such a young age—regardless of experiences, of life, of how things can change in the matter of a second.
000
He doesn't believe it, not really, until Kurt Hummel appears on his wrist in beautiful scrawl at sixteen.
He traces it with his fingers at night, in bed, wondering when he's going to meet him, what he looks like, if he'll be kind and like his bowties and old movies and contemplates whether the universe is playing a trick on him and everyone else with this name nonsense.
Just because you're fated to be with someone does not mean that they're your soulmate. Not really. What if Kurt's a jerk or he doesn't like old movies or they don't get along? What if they fight about stupid things and don't trust one another, what if Kurt leaves him one day because he decides he wants to live in a bigger city to match his bigger dreams—Chicago maybe or New York?
This is a mess. He doesn't even know Kurt and he's already trying to figure out why it won't work. But the universe can't know everything, can it? It can't predict the future or guarantee his happiness.
Because people change. Sometimes they don't fit together anymore like they used to. And if he's only got one soulmate, one name written in fancy print on his wrist, one red string tying them together at their necks—what is he supposed to do when it doesn't work?
He doesn't meet Kurt until he's seventeen and he's dawned in red and blue piping, walking down the steps at Dalton. He feels it before he turns around, there's a tug, a harsh one, in his chest. It's like someone knocks the wind right out of him and suddenly he knows. He knows from the complete and whole feeling surrounding every nerve in his being that his soulmate is behind him.
He turns as Kurt walks down a step to meet him, bumps into a tall and lanky kid, bright green eyes with a French tongue who smirks at him, looking him up and down before passing. They connect eyes for a long moment before the taller passes by him and walks down the steps.
Blaine shakes off the collision before smiling brightly. "Hi." He says a bit breathlessly, and Kurt smiles shyly, blush kissing his cheeks.
And yeah, maybe he gets it now, the red invisible string vibrating tightly between them, warming his entire body down to his toes.
"You must be Blaine." Kurt says, outstretches his hand and takes his own, his finger brushing over his name on Blaine's wrist.
He feels complete in a way he never knew he could. He understands what it means to find your other half, to feel whole. Even though a part of him, a smaller part now, still doesn't understand how Kurt and him really fit. They don't know one another, they're destined to be together because of names on one another's wrists. A red string from the universe.
How does the universe know? How do the stars line up with the moon at night and determine that he belongs to Kurt and vice versa.
Blaine still doesn't understand but the feeling fades into Kurt's warm smile and the feeling of their hands pressed together.
000
He and Kurt become boyfriends. His parents love him. He loves him. But in a part of him that he thought was gone wakes him up in the middle of the night sometimes.
Kurt can be selfish and he can be absent. He's been jealous of opportunities that fall into his lap. Sometimes Blaine feels alone when he's with him and he's become accustomed to rubbing the name on his wrist to assure himself.
"What do you want to do this weekend?" Kurt asks, lying across his bed, flipping through a Vogue magazine.
Blaine hums, putting folded clothes away. There's a domesticity to them already that excites and terrifies him at the same time.
"It's supposed to rain Saturday and Sunday, I was thinking we could stay in, watch movies?" He grins, sitting on the edge of his bed. They've watched one old movie together when they first started dating—and it feels like an encompassing way to celebrate their time together. Kind of going right back to the start.
"There's a Cary Grant movie marathon on—"
Kurt scrunches his nose. "Come on Blaine, I can't tolerate one more black and white film I feel like I'm going colorblind. I don't understand how you watch those things anyways." He turns on his back and looks at the magazine over his face.
And just like that the conversation is over.
It's not that Kurt doesn't want to watch the films, it's that it's not even a discussion. It's a no and that's that. And for some reason, the fact that he hardly has a choice in something as small as a movie marathon burrows under his skin, festers like an infection, makes him feel hot and sick.
He lets Kurt decide what they'll do for the weekend and rubs at his wrist as the red string pulls tightly around his bone and muscle—it feels like it's cutting his circulation off.
He pretends not to notice.
000
Blaine hasn't been in any relationships, only Kurt. He's watched his brother bounce from girl to girl (and a guy the one time) before he settles on a girl named Alice from his part-time acting career. He doesn't understand how Cooper's managed to upkeep so many relationships, granted they've been short, when none of those names had matched the one on his wrist.
He doesn't understand the point. If they don't match up, if you're not destined to be with them, why waste the effort in getting involved? In developing feelings for them and living through the heartbreak when they realize that having a good time and sex can only go so far.
That they don't belong to one another and never will.
He wonders if he would have been able to date like Cooper, if he hadn't gotten involved with Kurt yet…if he hadn't been fated to even meet Kurt until he was much older.
He doesn't talk to Kurt about previous relationships, or if his boyfriend has ever even had one. It doesn't exactly matter now, does it?
He's meeting Kurt for dinner after school, his boyfriend holed up in the library working on a paper while Blaine decides he needs coffee or he's probably going to fall asleep in a plate full of spaghetti at Breadstix. He waits in line at the small café at school, orders his medium drip, pays and turns to bump into someone.
It turns out it's the same someone he bumped into a year earlier, on the steps, when he met Kurt. He starts for a moment, those green eyes finding his own as the taller steadies him.
"You almost had a chest covered in coffee." He says, voice smooth, reaches into his stomach and squeezes. It sends a chill down his spine.
"Sorry, I'm a bit of a zombie right now. Uh, not enough coffee throughout the day."
The other hums, stretches his hand out. "Sebastian Smythe."
Blaine smiles, that mask that he has reserved for so many people slipping onto his face, the accommodating look in his eyes and a warm inflection in his voice. "Blaine Anderson. Are you a freshman? I feel like I haven't seen you around a lot before."
Sebastian smirks, takes his hand back and sticks them in his pockets. He looks far too amused for Blaine's liking. "Do I look like a freshman to you?"
The shorter has no idea whether to let the laugh out that's stuck at the bottom of his throat as his cheeks heat up under Sebastian's intense gaze. He shakes his head, dips his chin and chews on his lower lip, a smile tugging at the ends of his mouth.
"No," He decides, his fingers warm from squeezing his coffee cup too hard. "I suppose not."
000
They get coffee. Multiple times. Sometimes on accident from running into one another. Other times because Sebastian insists and Blaine can't turn down coffee that's being paid for. Blaine knows, deep down, that he shouldn't be doing this. Because regardless of the security blanket of Kurt's name on his wrist, Sebastian's a giant flirt.
And he has no problem making him feel flattered. He's pretty sure he starts out his day with a checklist of ways to make him blush.
It's only an issue because Blaine doesn't have an issue with it.
It's harmless, Sebastian is harmless. Getting coffee with him a few times isn't going to disturb the universe. He's sure that the taller has a name too, etched on his wrist, and that he just hasn't met him yet. That he's waiting around until he does, like Cooper, finding a way to spend his time. It's almost ironic because as he gets to know Sebastian, he honestly can't see him being tied down with red string.
He's a free spirit, he's an equal opportunity flirt. And Blaine almost admires that, finds it attractive, addictive maybe. That he's so open and forward and excited not to be tied down to someone just yet.
He keeps those comments to himself.
Blaine learns a lot about Sebastian from their coffee dates. That he's from France, that his mother still lives there, that his father is a lawyer but isn't as present as he should be regardless that they live in the same home. He has a sister, she's a brat according to Sebastian—but Blaine sees right through him, like glass, he cares about her in a way that he doesn't want anyone to know or realize.
Sebastian has a mask too. It's just not smiles and warm gestures like his own. Its innuendos and smirking and snapping at people until they put a fair amount of distance between them.
"I have to get going," Blaine says, twirling his cup on the table but he makes no move to leave.
Sebastian hums, leaning his elbows on the table. "Another dinner date? Skip it. Tell him you met better company."
Blaine laughs, shakes his head at Sebastian's slow smile. "You're insatiable, I'm sure you can find another boy to spend your time with."
"Not one who has an ass like yours." He says, leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest.
He's about to reply, but a flash of skin catches his attention. It's Sebastian's wrist and it's…blank. There's not a name on it and he reaches across the table without thinking and grabs his forearm, runs his fingers over the smooth expanse of his wrist.
"Is this your version of hitting on me because," Sebastian grins, "It's about time, Anderson."
"You don't have a name." Is all he says and the smile slips from the other's lips before he rolls his eyes and pries Blaine's fingers from his skin, he finds himself missing that warmth.
"No I don't."
"I don't understand, I thought everyone had a name. I've never seen someone who hasn't."
"Are you trying to tell me I'm one of a kind?" He teases, takes a sip of his coffee. There's a hint of a smile there but it's not the same as before.
Blaine can't find the words that are somehow stuck between his throat and under his tongue. He's never met anyone without a name on their wrist before and he…he didn't even know that that sort of thing was even possible. What did it mean? Why did the universe decide that Sebastian doesn't get a soulmate? Does that mean that another person out there doesn't have one either? How many pairs will never find one another?
Doesn't that throw the entire system off balance?
"Is your head going to explode with this information?" Sebastian asks, snapping his fingers in front of Blaine's face.
"I just don't understand." He repeats.
"It's quite simple, really, I don't have a soulmate." Sebastian shrugs his shoulder, glancing to the side of them at the coffee cart.
There's a million things Blaine wants to ask, most importantly 'how?' even though he's not sure Sebastian will know how to answer that. But…doesn't not having a soulmate bother him? That he'll eventually just…wind up with no one? That he's not destined to be with anyone but himself? Alone?
"I don't get it, doesn't that…isn't that upsetting to you?"
Sebastian turns his head, looks at him for a long moment before letting a noise out of his mouth—something stuck between a scoff and sounding amused.
"Oh, yeah, I'm heartbroken about it, Killer." He grins. "Come on, don't be naïve. What do you think is worse? Ending up with someone because my wrist told me to and not being happy, or having a good time spending it with whoever I want to and end up alone?"
Blaine swallows, his fingers instinctively tracing his own wrist through his shirt. "But I thought that the… 'red string of fate' could never be broken." He feels a bit silly saying it out loud.
But Sebastian doesn't miss a beat. "Mine was. Or maybe I never had one to begin with. Maybe the person I was supposed to be with died or got fated to someone else." His eyes trail over his face, his hands reaching across the table for Blaine's.
Blaine tenses as Sebastian's fingers push his sleeve up, revealing Kurt's name. The taller smirks at it, traces the 'H' with his pointer finger.
"Soulmates aren't determined by something having to tell you who you belong with." Sebastian shakes his head and Blaine tries to ignore how his hands feel on his skin, the way the warmth snakes into his pores and stays there.
His eyes trace Sebastian's features, wonders if he noticed the freckles that speckle his cheekbones before, or the bridge of his nose. He gets lost in memorizing the way his eyes light up and darken at the same time, such an intense green, the beauty mark on his cheek, the lines on his face when he smiles, the way he licks his lips.
Blaine feels a part of himself break away, disconnect, something deep inside his chest. He has no idea what it is or if he'll even need it later but doesn't try to reach for it to put it back into its place.
"Don't you think anything happens on accident?" Sebastian asks, and Blaine tries to restart his brain, to actually think about the question at hand.
Tries not the think of all the times he's accidently bumped into Sebastian and how that's formed a friendship between them.
But he shakes his head. Finds the words that feel odd in his mouth. "Accident and coincidence don't mix well with fate."
Sebastian smiles softly, lets his hands go. "Someone should tell the universe that."
000
He and Sebastian have less time to meet for coffee as months bleed by, dead leaves covering with snow as November fades into December. Finals are rounding the corners at Dalton, lurking behind every door, between every book at its spine and between the words on a word document. Everyone is swamped with work and it's stifling—everyone has their outlets.
Kurt sleeps in, Blaine drinks more coffee than he should and Sebastian spends his nights at Scandals blowing off steam from being cooped up.
"Do you ever think that the universe makes mistakes and calls them coincidences?" He asks Kurt one night as they're studying, breaking the silence.
Kurt frowns, looks up from his text book. "Why are you asking me this?"
He gets a text from Sebastian that instant, as if he's answering Kurt's question. He presses the text open and shrugs his shoulder. "No reason."
The text is a jumble of letters, also known as Sebastian's trashed and needs a ride back to the dorm. He glances at Kurt and stands, grabbing his coat, letting him know where he's going—and just as expected Kurt doesn't like it, almost demands that Blaine doesn't go.
But Blaine makes his own decision, his own choice, and he can't ignore how good that feels. He kisses Kurt's cheek and assures him that it's alright, that Sebastian is harmless.
He doesn't know whether he's trying to convince his boyfriend or himself because people like Sebastian are anything but.
000
It's snowing when he finds Sebastian waiting for him outside of Scandals, he's standing there with a long button down on but no coat and Blaine has the half a mind to scold him as he gets out of the car but the words die on his lips. The taller has a split lip and he's shivering and all Blaine can do is place his hands on his arms and run them down to his wrists, where a name isn't carved into skin, before tugging him towards the car.
"Seb, what happened?"
Sebastian smirks but his voice is a bit strained in a few places. "Put my mouth somewhere it doesn't belong."
Blaine doesn't ask Sebastian to clarify but he's pretty sure he already knows what happened. He probably had been kissing (or God, something worse) someone who had brought their soulmate to Scandals. And knowing Sebastian and his snarky disposition that definitely equaled the split lip marring his face.
He takes him back to his dorm room, helps him inside and decides to stay until his split lip is looked at since Sebastian's roommate seems to be out for the night. He closes the door with his foot and tries to help the taller to the bed, who's dragging his feet and mumbling something about too many tequila shots.
Blaine feels like he's had this upcoming conversation with Sebastian eight million times. While having a name on your wrist ties you to someone else (or ties you down, as the other likes to rephrase) it also keeps you out of trouble more often than not.
When you know you belong with someone, even if you haven't met them, unless you're Cooper, it lulls you into a sense of safety. Of knowing that you'll meet your certain someone at some point in your life. That all you have to do is wait, be patient. Blaine knows this because it's something he's observed from his parents, from his friends.
But Sebastian is a loose cannon because he doesn't belong to anyone. He's told Blaine that he's not stupid, he knows what he's doing, that it takes two to makeout or have sex and all the people he attracts come willingly so how is this always his fault?
Sebastian groans as he lands on the bed, Blaine turning him over to lean against the headboard. "For someone who's, apparently, not stupid you sure as hell do a lot of stupid things." He mutters.
"It's not my fault," Sebastian swats Blaine's hands away and untucks his shirt from his jeans. "People wonder what it's like to spend the night with someone they're not destined with. It doesn't mean anything, s'harmless."
"Yeah?" Blaine asks, pointedly pressing his thumb to Sebastian's lip, making him hiss.
"Fuck, stop." He glares, running his tongue over the cut. Blaine swallows, tries not to let his eyes wander over his mouth and busies himself by heading to the bathroom down the hall to get a paper towel with cool water on it.
He steps back into Sebastian's room and hovers over him, tilting his chin with his fingers before gently pressing the paper towel to his lip. Sebastian lets him, those green eyes traveling over his face in a way Blaine pretends not to notice.
"It doesn't hurt to be curious." Sebastian whispers, his breath brushing over his fingers like a pointed touch. If he ignores him enough, pretends the words he says have no meaning, maybe he'll start to believe the mantra in his head that says Sebastian is wrong.
"I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention."
Blaine's eyes snap up to the other, an intake of breath getting caught in his throat. No, he's not right. He can't be. "You're wrong. I love Kurt." He says, without a moment's hesitation. He's surprised at the steadiness of his voice.
But Sebastian is quick at making his choices feel insecure, unsteady, he has no idea how he can just do that to him every damn time. "Because your wrist told you to?" He laughs.
Sebastian has this way of getting under his skin without his permission, without even trying.
But it's not like Blaine hasn't thought about it, the fact that his own skin might be wrong, that the universe has no idea what the fuck it's talking about. That fate depends on people, not on a name. That people change and it's impossible to forge out who belongs with who, undoubtedly and irrevocably.
Was it possible to have more than one soulmate?
That he's thought about what Sebastian has said about accidents and coincidence. That it keeps him up at night sometimes along with that smooth voice, bright and intense green eyes and pointed touch.
Blaine just shakes his head, doesn't know what he would say if he could find the words anyways.
Sebastian licks his lips, shifts down in bed so he's almost lying down. He's not propped up against the headboard anymore. "The soulmate thing only works because people put so much faith in it. What about choice and the excitement that sometimes comes from making mistakes?"
The only thing that keeps flashing in Blaine's head, like a pulse, is that Sebastian is wrong. He's wrong.
But is he? Is he wrong?
Blaine walks forward, intent on tucking Sebastian into bed and then leaving for the night because he's confused and his head hurts and Kurt is probably wondering where he is…when his feet get tangled up—on accident—in an article of clothing on the floor and he trips. The taller reaches out and grabs him but he's too top heavy at that point and lands with a noise against Sebastian's chest on the bed.
He doesn't move, like he's assessing what body part has landed where. And it takes him an achingly long moment, the space between quickened heartbeats, to realize he's pressed perfectly against Sebastian's long and lanky body. That they sort of…fit in this haphazard way that he doesn't want to begin to understand. His chest is splayed out against Sebastian's ribcage and sternum, stomach pushing against the taller's as he tries to breathe in and out, their faces fractions away from one another, his breath hot and teasing to the pores on his face and his lips. His legs are between the other's and he's not—he can't even think of his thighs, his hips, up higher—
A sharp intake of air greets his lungs and Sebastian's eyes trace down Blaine's face to his lips. Their noses graze.
"It's ironic to me that you keep finding yourself in situations like this Killer," Sebastian smiles, tipping his head forward so that their lips touch. "For someone who doesn't believe in coincidences."
A choked noise leaves Blaine's lips because it's not Sebastian who kisses him. It's Blaine who kisses Sebastian.
000
A month has passed since that night in Sebastian's dorm. They haven't spoken about it. Sebastian, thankfully, pretends the night had never happened. Neither one of them brings it up.
The kiss shared between them fades into the darkness of the room that night. Disappears. Vanishes.
And even though Blaine has been trying to avoid Sebastian left and right, he can't seem to stop running into him. He doesn't dare to try and give the happenstance a title, a definition, to acknowledge that it feels like it's something more than just an accident, a mistake, a coincidence.
Regardless of what it is, he can't get Sebastian out of his head. He just hopes and prays that Kurt doesn't notice because it's just…something that he doesn't seem to be able to control.
Blaine just…finds himself thinking about him at the most inopportune times to the point where it's infuriating. That stupid smarmy grin or smirks in his direction, general leers as he wears a tighter pair of gray chinos or dawns his gym shorts for class. The problem is, he knows, is how much it doesn't really bother him. Kurt has made him feel talented, special, and while those things are obviously important Sebastian does that and gives him something his boyfriend does not.
He makes him feel wanted. Sexy, even.
And while it's stupid or superficial, he can't deny how he feels. He can't do it anymore. So he just…gives up, stops trying to avoid Sebastian (not that that's working anyways) and just lets whatever happen, happen. He thought he'd feel different about him after time had passed, but newsflash he hasn't. He knows spending time with Sebastian probably isn't the best thing but something just keeps drawing them towards one another.
It's better if he doesn't think about it. So he doesn't.
He tells Kurt he's hanging out with Sebastian sometimes as his friend, because that's what he considers him as. And while Blaine has always had this sunshine disposition, has always had a knack for making friends, he has trouble exposing himself and letting people in.
And Sebastian is the only friend that he feels like knows him better than a lot of people do, he's somehow managed to crawl under his skin and sleep there and pry back his ribs and study the beating of his heart, harbor his secrets.
He doesn't know what's going on with him, exactly, but something has shifted in his chest behind his sternum. He keeps rubbing his wrist like there's a crawling sensation under his muscles but the skin isn't even irritated or red until he starts touching it.
He has to talk about this with someone but he doesn't know who. His mother maybe. All he knows is that has to tell someone or he's going to start spiraling.
"Are you even listening?"
Blaine looks up from his dinner plate at Kurt, who is staring pointedly at him. He swallows, trying not to look as guilty as he feels.
"I'm sorry."
Kurt sighs, eating the last bit of his spaghetti before taking the plate into Blaine's kitchen. They're home for the weekend, a long break at Dalton and Blaine had thought it would have been a good idea to invite Kurt over for a home cooked dinner.
Maybe not.
Blaine closes his eyes for a moment and shakes his head; sometimes he can't help but feel like he's reduced to these big romantic gestures that don't really mean anything in the end.
Like he has something to prove to Kurt or to himself, he's not sure.
He brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose before following Kurt into the kitchen a moment later, setting his plate down among the dishes in the sink.
"I'm sorry," He says again, touching Kurt's shoulder. "I've had a lot on my plate these last few days."
Kurt brings his arm up and moves Blaine's hand off his shoulder. "It's not just the past few days, Blaine and I have a lot going on too."
Blaine sighs, turning the water on in the sink to rinse some of the dishes. "I know you do Kurt, I know you've been stressed with stuff going on with your dad and classes and the Warbler meetings. I said I was sorry," He pulls back to dry his hands on a dishtowel. "What more do you want from me?"
"I want you to show some interest in what I'm saying!" Kurt's voice is gaining more and more frustration by the minute. "Every time I try to talk to you about something important you zone out!"
That's not true but something in Kurt's voice strikes a nerve in him and instead of defending himself all Blaine feels like doing is arguing. He angles his body towards him. "Maybe if we talked about something other than school or class and how you eventually want to go to NYADA for once…"
"Well, excuse me for trying to talk to my boyfriend about what's going on in my life!"
His indignant tone just adds fuel to Blaine's slowly growing fire. His fists clench as anger starts to build up in his chest. "Which is fine when it's not all the goddamn time!" He tries to keep his voice in control. "I know school and the Warblers are important, but I have things going on too that we don't even get to half the time—"
"It's not all the time." Kurt tries to defend, crossing his arms over his chest.
Before he can even finish his sentence Blaine talks over him. "Come on, Kurt! I tried to fool around with you before we even started dinner and all you wanted to do was talk about the solos that you're not happy with me singing at sectionals."
Kurt glares at him. "Oh right, it's so wrong when I try to talk to you about school," Completely ignoring his statement about the Warbler solos. "but when Sebastian utters something about professors or how you're the perfect lead for the Warblers it's the most interesting thing you've ever heard."
Blaine sends him an equal glare; something snapping inside him at the mention of Sebastian's name. "Don't bring Sebastian into this." He warns.
"He's already a part of this!" Kurt yells.
A spike of anxiety waves throughout Blaine's stomach. He doesn't want to know what Kurt means by that. In fact, he's perfectly fine with leaving this entire conversation at where it is, leaving it unresolved. But it's too late now, and he knows this, Kurt's already worked up and Blaine is pissed off and through with his boyfriend taking a selfish standpoint to things.
What? Is he not even allowed to have friends now that support him?
"Would you keep your voice down?" Blaine snaps in an angry whisper.
Kurt pointedly ignores him. "You think I don't notice how close you two have gotten? How—how you just you sit there at the café sometimes and listen attentively while Sebastian drones on and on about how Professor Richardson seemingly has it 'out for him' because he gave him a C on his history paper and now he's having trouble with that grade and lacrosse?"
"He's my friend and he was upset, he worked really hard on that paper Kurt. Hours spent and wasted in the library, I'd be upset too. What was I supposed to do? Just ignore him?" He asks, exasperated. "I would have done the same thing if it had been you, so why are you making such a big deal out of me making sure that he was alright?"
"Right of course, the world literally stops when Sebastian Smythe is upset." Kurt hurriedly gathers his coat, slipping it on as fast as he can, ignoring everything he's said.
Blaine knows exactly what this is; he can read it all over Kurt's face. He's jealous. "Jealousy isn't a good look on you, Kurt." Blaine sneers. "Sebastian's become a really good friend and yeah, I care about him. I'm not going to apologize for that."
"Except that it's more than that." Kurt puts his bag over his shoulder and shakes his head. "You look at him…sometimes and there's this…admiration in your eyes that I will never understand. When you touch his hand when you're telling him something exciting or give him a hug his entire demeanor changes. There's more to Sebastian than his smirks, Blaine. And I can see right through him." Blaine swallows, looking down at the kitchen floor.
"We just…understand each other." He says lamely; he can't explain it either. He can't get Kurt to understand any more than he was already trying to.
Kurt shakes his head, disgusted. "Typical Sebastian, trying to steal people's attention or boyfriends for that matter whenever he can."
Blaine's frustration finally hits its peak and he slams his hand down on the counter, sending silverware a fraction into the air and clanging noisily as they reach the surface again.
"This fight is not about Sebastian!" Arguing about Sebastian is not what Blaine had been angry about in the first place. Kurt had turned this whole fight into 'Sebastian is stealing my boyfriend'. That's not where their problems lied.
He groans before running his hands over his face, his one palm stinging as the skin turns red.
"He's not what started this." He says more calmly, even though his voice still has hints of strained frustration and anger.
Kurt can't even look him in the eye as his voice trembles. "No, but he's the one who's ending it."
Blaine's heart slams up into his throat and he stutters out a reply as Kurt starts making his way to the front door. "Wait, Kurt…Kurt wait a minute." He grabs his arm. "Are you…are you breaking up with me?"
Kurt chokes out a laugh as a tear runs down his cheek. "No, you can tell Sebastian we're taking a break…I'm sure you'll find time to talk to him about this."
And with that he slams the door in his face.
000
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first part! :)