A/N: Inspired by a prompt list I saw floating around - having a wet dream and saying another person's name. Warnings for masturbation, voyeurism, unintentional exhibitionism, recording without consent, eluding to Blaine but no Klaine.
Sebastian wakes unhappily to the lilting sounds of a softly murmured Broadway showstopper being sung from the occupant of the bed on the other side of the room, and he groans in aggravation. He grabs his iPhone out from beneath his pillow and squints at the brightly lit screen, checking the time.
Barely past one in the morning.
"Fuuucccckkkk!" he grumbles, burying his head in his pillow and pulling the ends up over his ears.
How he got saddled with a roommate he'll never know. Sebastian always had a single room…ALWAYS. He didn't do roommates. Well, he would if this one wasn't such a fucking prude. Regardless, his parents paid extra for him to have a single room and damn it he should have a single room by now, but so far no amount of threatening phone calls from his father has been able to speed the process along. For being such a prestigious school the administration at Dalton couldn't seem to do their jobs worth shit.
For two weeks now he's had to put up with Kurt Hummel, or as Sebastian not-so affectionately refers to him, the Ice Queen. He wakes up two hours before breakfast to shower and moisturize. He steams out the wrinkles in his uniform jacket every day with this obnoxious hand held steamer thing that makes some obnoxious hissing noise, and he does it right before Sebastian's alarm is set to go off in the morning. He never answers a single one of Sebastian's questions directly, and when he studies, he does these inane vocal exercises, as if Sondheim himself is going to walk through their dorm room door any minute and beg Kurt to be in his newest musical starting in exactly ten minutes.
And to top it off, he sings in his sleep.
Sebastian hears Kurt whimper; a high, breathy note that breaks as Kurt struggles to sustain it, and Sebastian rolls his eyes.
"Better luck next time, princess." Sebastian rolls on his side facing the wall, but Kurt fails to hit the note again, this time louder and whinier.
"Ugh!" Sebastian sits up and picks up his pillow, preparing to loft it across the room, debating walking it over instead and smothering Kurt in his sleep when he makes the breathy sound again, and this time Sebastian hears it for what it is – and freezes.
A moan. Kurt is moaning in his sleep. Sebastian racks his sleep muddled brain for any musical he knows of that has moaning in it, and as he becomes more aware and his mind starts to clear, he begins to comprehend what Kurt must really be dreaming about.
Even if he didn't, the next words out of Kurt's mouth confirm it.
"Oh…yes…don't stop…"
Sebastian lowers his weapon and a slow, conniving grin spreads across his face. He fumbles for his phone, intent on capturing this phenomenon on camera. Maybe then he can get the Ice Queen to thaw out a little – or at least wait until after he wakes up in the morning to steam his Goddamned uniform.
Sebastian opens the camera app on his phone and aims the viewfinder at Kurt's bed. Through the illumination on the screen he sees the image of Kurt lying on his back, a goofy smile on his face, and ohmyGod! He's kicked the covers off his body and Sebastian can plainly see Kurt's hand down his pants, moving steadily back and forth. There's no doubt in Sebastian's mind that Kurt is daydreaming about that 'sex-on-a-stick-and-sings-like-a-dream' friend of his; the one with the wide, puppy dog eyes and the bashful school boy grin. Sebastian had made it his mission from the first moment he laid eyes on him to try and tap that, but cockblock Hummel always manages to get in the way.
Just another reason on a growing list as to why this video is going to come in handy.
Come on, Hummel. You want him. You know you do. Just say his name.
Sebastian holds the phone steady, but when Kurt arches his bed and moans again, he feels his whole body tremble. He can't help it. Truth be told, it's been a while since Sebastian's had a good fuck; much longer than he'd like to admit. Even though Kurt is annoying, he's not necessarily abhorrent, and here he is in Sebastian's room, rutting into his hand and moaning…
When did it get so hot in that room?
Sebastian figures he's got enough footage to make Kurt bend to his whims for at least a month so he decides to turn off the camera when Kurt moans again.
"Sebastian…"
Sebastian's finger hovers above the camera icon, but he doesn't tap it, holding still, holding his breath to see if he isn't dreaming, and Kurt didn't just…
"Mmm…Sebastian…"
Sebastian peers at the screen but he can't make out anything but a tremendous dark blur and he realizes his hands are shaking. Sebastian turns off the camera and stuffs it back beneath his pillow, swallowing thickly as Kurt moans again.
"Right there…yes…"
Right there? Right where? Sebastian's whole body burns with curiosity to find out. He stands up and pads across the floor to Kurt's bed; the cold tile beneath his feet doing nothing to kill the erection growing with every panting breath, every mumbled moan that crosses Kurt's lips. Sebastian stops at Kurt's bedside, hovering above the body writhing on the narrow mattress, hand thrust inside his pants, rapidly palming over his cock, pink lip pinched between his teeth.
Sebastian is mesmerized by the stuttered way Kurt's hips rise up to meet the movements of his hand, and Sebastian's own cock aches from neglect. He snakes his hand into his pants, wrapping it around his cock, working over it hard and fast knowing that Kurt can't possibly last much longer. Sebastian licks his lips, watching Kurt bite his lip harder; the next long, sustained moan muffled and choked.
"Seb…Sebas…"
Kurt can't seem to say his name as his entire body convulses, but that fractured, desperate sound combined with way too much time between hook-ups is enough to shove Sebastian headlong into his own mind-shattering orgasm.
Sebastian strokes himself through it, jerky motions causing him to stumble backward into Kurt's desk, knocking over a cup full of pens and pencils, scattering them over the edge and onto the floor. Kurt's eyes snap open, confusion erasing the look of extreme relaxation and pleasure on his face. He shakes his head from side to side and catches a glimpse of Sebastian standing a foot or so away from his bed, slightly doubled over with his hand down his pants. He looks stunned, like a deer about to be pummeled by an oncoming truck, but only for a second before his usual brand of cocky smirk returns, and his green eyes shimmer devilishly in the scant light.
"Was it good for you, too?" Sebastian drawls, pulling his hand from his pants. He takes off his t-shirt, staring shamelessly at Kurt, and wipes his hand.
"Are you sniffing glue, or is that CW cologne you bathe in finally killing the four active cells left in your brain?" Kurt snaps, not seeming to register that his own hand is still firmly attached to his flaccid cock.
"Hey, you're the one over here spending quality time with your right hand," Sebastian teases. "I just decided to get close enough to enjoy the show."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kurt says, pulling the covers back over his body and wrapping them tight around him, "but 'sexual harassment' comes to mind."
"That wasn't the only thing coming to mind a minute ago." Sebastian steps away, making his way back to his bed, keeping his eyes locked on Kurt's body as he turns over in a huff to face the wall. "And just so you know, we do have an en suite bathroom in case you get the urge again, since you're being so shy and everything."
"Fuck you, Smythe," Kurt mutters, yanking his sheet up over his head to hide completely.
"In your dreams, Hummel," Sebastian quips back. "Oh, wait. I think you already did."