I'm still working on the zombie story, but then this popped into my head. I think I've now done every epistolary cliché, hopefully I'm done with them now. D=

Working on the timeline to this story hurt my head because of the time jumps and the weirdness of taking two seasons to get through Blaine's senior year and then jumping months at a time... if something seems really off, let me know, but I gave up lol =)

This is my version of Season 6 where Kurt and Blaine did break up again, but this time he doesn't follow him back to the one place he'd always said he never wanted to be again just to pine for a man that he dumped who is now dating his former bully/friend. Just... what the hell glee writers? Instead he stayed in New York, ya know, where he's wanted to live for most of his life and fought to get there? Yeah. That.


Why the hell am I here?

As Kurt leans back against the bar nursing his drink, he has to figure the answer to that question is, 'because I'm an idiot'. He'd said he didn't want to go to a bar, that he'd just wanted to stay home and read. He knew he'd end up spending the night alone, watching his 'friend' dance with anyone that was handy, while ignoring him completely. He'd known, and he'd gone anyway.

Thank god 'But it's my birthday!' only works once a year.

As Kurt orders another drink, he feels a hand slowly rub against his ass. Arching an eyebrow, Kurt turns to face the man. Ignoring his disappointment that the face is unfamiliar, he glares at the asshole and smacks his hand away.

Laughing, the fairly hot guy with a cocky smirk and too much alcohol on his breath says, "Come on, don't be like that."

Crossing his arms, Kurt gives the man an obvious perusal before scoffing and going back to signaling the bartender. I'm just not drunk enough to deal with this.

Unfortunately the jerk doesn't take the hint , and instead moves closer to Kurt and leans sideways on the bar, trying to regain his attention. "What's wrong, I'm not your type?"

Kurt just huffs, raising his glass when the bartender finally notices him. The idiot just continues to smirk at him and Kurt sighs. Actually, he's exactly my type. Which is the problem. Apparently, 'my type' is hot, arrogant assholes that just look for an easy fuck.

Eventually the cocky grin slips at being ignored. Looking pissed off, the guy reaches out to grab Kurt's arm. Before he can even touch him, another hand, wearing black nail polish, appears out of nowhere and pulls it away. Before Kurt can turn to face the newcomer, he's being kissed quickly but intimately.

"Hey, babe! Sorry I'm late. Your dad called as I was heading inside. You should turn your phone back on, sweetie. He said he texted you awhile ago."

Kurt sits frozen until about halfway through the statement. As soon as the other boy stops talking, Kurt sputters, "El-Elliot? Wha-"

Cutting Kurt off before he can ruin all of his efforts, Elliot turns to the confused, preppy-looking douchebag with a popped collar. "As you can see, he's taken." When the guy just blinks at him, Elliot makes a 'shoo'ing hand gesture at him. After the idiot finally leaves, Elliot turns back to Kurt. "Hey, man! Long time no see! Sorry about the kiss, figured better a friend than a perv, right?"

Kurt finally recovers, realizing he was just saved from the ass groper. Smiling widely, Kurt surges forward to hug him. "Elliot! Wow, it has been awhile! Where have you been?"

Grinning, Elliot sits on the stool next to Kurt and puts his arm on the bar behind him. "Around. Sorry I haven't been in contact much. I got a new job and I met a guy and I just got wrapped up. I'm sure you've been there."

Kurt grimaces. "There right now, actually. Sorry I haven't called you either." After a few seconds of mostly comfortable silence, Kurt smacks him on the arm. "So tell me about the guy! Do I know him?"

Laughing, the darker haired man answers, "Probably not. He can't sing and doesn't like fashion."

Kurt nods sadly, "Nope. I don't know him."

"What about your guy? Anyone I know? Short and bow-tie obsessed perhaps?"

Kurt snorts into his drink. "Oh god. No. Actually, I recently found out that he's back in Ohio and living with an old... uh, friend of mine from high school." At Elliot's look, Kurt laughs. "Right? I couldn't stop laughing. They're so weird together. Whatever works, I guess."

After waiting for a bit, Elliot prods again, "So, your guy?"

Huffing, Kurt downs the rest of his drink and leaves the empty glass on the bar, considering another one. "Isn't my guy. We're just friends, but that doesn't make me less wrapped up."

Nodding in sympathy, Elliot asks, "Question remains, do I know him?"

The smaller boy shrugs, looking back to the dance floor. While Kurt wasn't paying attention, he had picked a new dance partner. The new guy was blonde and fairly built, and currently had his hands shoved into 'his guy's' shirt.

"Do you know that really tall guy over there, being groped by the bottle blonde?"

Glancing over, Elliot's eyebrows raise. "No, but please feel free to introduce me!"

Laughing despite himself, Kurt smacks his arm lightly. "Down, tiger. Didn't you tell me you have a man?"

Still ogling the skin being displayed by the raised shirt, Elliot nods. "Sadly yes, but looking isn't cheating."

Remembering his and Blaine's argument in high school, Kurt snorts again. "Might want to clear that with him. Some people have strange definitions."

Elliot grins at him, turning all of his attention back to Kurt. "Yes, well. Some people are also hypocrites, so we'll just move on in topic. How's NYADA? Year three right?"


Kurt had been talking to Elliot for about half an hour. He'd been told that his friend had been on his way out the door when he'd spotted Kurt. He'd decided to save the day since his date had been called in to work. Kurt had actually managed to all but forget that he'd been so depressed and sad before.

I should hang out with people I'm not drooling over more often. It's less pathetic.

He and Elliot had gotten really close after all of his friends had left New York for various reasons. Just because he hadn't seen him much in the past few months, didn't make them any less comfortable with each other. And having his arm around him kept pervs from groping him. Win-win.

He's giggling over the story Elliot is whispering to him about the first time he'd tried to have sex with his new guy. It's not like he's giving details, but it's hardly the type of thing Elliot wants to announce to the whole bar. Kurt is just relieved that his friend had found someone, finally. Elliot was one of the sweetest people he'd ever met, and it had never made sense that he'd stayed single so long. He's not even jealous that his love is reciprocated. Much.

Once he can control his giggles, Kurt gasps out. "Oh, I have to meet him. It's only fair after all that crap with Blaine."

Rolling his eyes, Elliot smiles. "It wouldn't be the same. He's not super jealous and suspicious like Blaine was."

Grinning now, Kurt says, "So you've told him about the day we sang 'I believe in a thing called love' together?"

Elliot's eyes pop wide. Laughing he responds, "Uh, no. But that's mainly because I didn't think you wanted people to know about your pole dancing skills."

Kurt's laugh is interrupted by his momentarily forgotten friend appearing out of the crowd to lean heavily on the bar next to him.

"Kurt! I want to go home."

Frowning at the childish statement, Kurt replies, "Then go, hun. You've made it home by yourself in the past. I know. I've seen it. Almost every time we come out, in fact. We hardly ever leave together."

Shaking his head, the tall man says, "No. I want you to take me home. I drank too much, and I don't want to be alone if I throw up in the cab."

Scoffing, Kurt mutters, "God yes, lets ruin my shoes too." Looking around briefly, Kurt asks, "Where'd the blonde go? Get him to go home with you. Wasn't that the point of tonight?"

"Blonde? The dude I've been dancing with for the past 20 minutes was Asian." Frowning again, this time glaring at Elliot and then back to Kurt, the man groans. "Come on! It's my birthday! I want to go home."

Kurt sighs heavily. "It hasn't been your birthday for over an hour, actually, but fine." Leaning over to hug Elliot, Kurt says, "Sorry, hun. Gotta go take care of the man-child."

Waving him off and giving him a sad, knowing smile, Elliot says, "No problem, I'll call you tomorrow, okay sweetie?"

"Sure!" Kissing Elliot quickly on the cheek, Kurt grabs his friend's arm and wraps it around his shoulder, pulling him toward the door.

When they're only about half way out, walking gets much easier. Kurt starts to wonder if he's really as drunk as he'd been acting. What the hell?

A quick cab ride later, Kurt is again all but carrying the sack of grown-man-shaped-putty into his stupidly expensive apartment.

Huffing, Kurt dumps him on the couch, not interested in trying to drag him across too many square feet of the gorgeous penthouse. As he goes to step away, there's suddenly hands on his hips. Inwardly groaning, Kurt moves to try and take the hands off him.

Pouting again, the taller man asks, "So who was that guy?"

Kurt shrugs, "A friend of mine. I met him when I moved to New York."

Glaring as much as he's able, he asks, "Do you kiss all your 'friends' that way?"

Thinking of the kiss on the cheek before he left, Kurt shrugs again, "Pretty much. That type of friend anyway." When the taller man tries to pull Kurt down into his lap, his eyes narrow. "Are you drunk or not? Because if you're so drunk that I had to leave Elliot at the bar to come back with you, you're too drunk to be trying to get laid."

Sighing petulantly, he let's his hands slide off of Kurt. "Sorry. I'll leave you alone. I just need to sleep."

Kurt does his best to stamp out the urge to just slip into his lap and kiss him. Instead he turns around and goes to leave.

Refusing to look back, knowing that if he sees that pout again he'll spend the night there, coddling him like the child he is, Kurt opens the door.

Another sigh, seemingly sad this time. "Night Kurt."

Clenching his hand on the doorknob, Kurt caves and turns around, despite knowing better.

"Goodnight, Bas."


As Kurt lays in bed the next morning, he contemplates just never getting up. He could just lay here forever, wallowing in his misery. He could refuse to go and wring his hands over his hungover, idiot friend like a 50's housewife. Growling, because he knows he can't do that, Kurt climbs out of bed, then goes about his morning routine.

As he heads back to the penthouse, he stops at a greasy diner. When he lets himself into the apartment, he's somewhat surprised to find the couch empty. Setting the food and drinks down on the breakfast bar, Kurt heads for the bedroom.

"Bas? You up yet?"

Hearing a faint groan from inside, Kurt pushes the door open. Seeing Sebastian Smythe cocooned in his comforter and glaring at him out of a two inch slit near his face, Kurt laughs again. "Oh, no. You don't get to blame me for the way you feel right now. You were the one that went overboard celebrating."

Sebastian croaks out, "Maybe we don't all celebrate our birthdays with tea parties and cucumber sandwiches, babe."

Huffing, Kurt shakes his hair out of his eyes and puts his hands on his hips. He hates it when Sebastian calls him 'babe'. To anyone else it would be a sign of endearment or flirting. But no. Seb had explained, during one of their first bitch fights in New York, that it was short for 'baby face'. Which was just slightly nicer than 'gay face'.

"Then maybe 'we' shouldn't act like assholes the next morning and blame innocent parties." Rolling his eyes, he adds, "I brought breakfast, so whenever you think you can make it the grueling ten feet to the kitchen, I'll be waiting." Refusing to stay and see if Sebastian had, as usual, slept in either his underwear, or worse, naked, Kurt quickly moves back to the breakfast bar to sip his coffee.

Why do I do this to myself? I know what he's like. I know what he does. Why don't I just stop? As Sebastian comes in, now wearing loose pajama pants and little else, he smiles at Kurt and kisses the top of his head, snatching his own coffee.

Oh, right. That's why. Sighing, Kurt opens his styrofoam box of pancakes. Valiantly fighting the desire to just stare openly at Sebastian's chest, Kurt wonders if he should start dating. He'd been avoiding it for weeks, telling anyone who asked that he just wasn't over Blaine yet.

It's somewhat true. He's not ready to jump back into something that would change his life so drastically. He has no desire to get back together with Blaine. He doesn't want to marry someone right now. He doesn't want to be thinking about wedding plans, possible kids, minivans, suburbs... he wants to focus on his education. He's still in college! If he could find a man that loved him, but that understood that he couldn't give him more than love at the moment- all the better. But dating around? Marrying? Ugh, both sound exhausting. And Kurt is tired of being exhausted.

Glancing up to see Sebastian has started in on his breakfast too, Kurt smiles sadly. He'd run into Bas in a coffee shop a few months ago. Once he'd noticed the other boy, he'd expected bitchy snark. It was right after he'd broken up with Blaine. He was sure to know about it, Kurt knew they'd stayed facebook friends. But instead of being smug, he'd asked if Kurt was okay, and actually been a decent human being.

That lasted about a week. After that Kurt couldn't take the politeness anymore and kind of went off on him. Sebastian had seemed relieved, of all things. They'd bitched at each other with snide comments and backhanded compliments for long enough that people were starting to gather around them to gape. Eventually they'd trailed off into laughing fits and had settled into a friendship.

Now Seb is one of the only people Kurt sees regularly. He's working on his work study program, so he had a more flexible schedule. Sebastian, studying at Columbia, was either out with Kurt, or working like crazy on his school assignments. Kurt didn't know if he had any other friends at all. He shouldn't be happy about that thought, but he kind of was.

The silence is broken by Sebastian turning to Kurt with a questioning look. "So, about that 'friend' last night-"

Groaning, Kurt stabs his fork into his pancake. "No, you can't have his number. Let it go."

Blinking at him, Sebastian cocks an eyebrow, "Who said I wanted his number?" When all Kurt does is take a vicious bite, he leans away from his meal to stare at him. "What the hell, Kurt? I thought he was just a friend?"

Taking a deep breath, Kurt clenches the fork in his hand and tries to get over himself. After a few seconds he turns back to Bas. "He is, but that doesn't mean I want to deal with the awkwardness of two of my closest friends fucking okay?" Deciding that he can't finish his breakfast, he closes the container. "Besides, he's got a boyfriend."

Getting up to put the leftovers in the fridge, Kurt misses the sad look aimed his way. "Oh. So that's the problem? He's taken?"

After shutting the door, Kurt bangs his head against the freezer. "No. I'm happy for him, he's been single since I met him, which is stupid because he's one of the nicest guys I've ever met."

When he turns to face Sebastian, the taller man looks confused. "I thought you didn't like nice?"

Frowning, Kurt crosses his arms. "What?"

"You don't really like nice people. All of your closest friends are either complete divas or total assholes. You yourself are kind of a bitch. The only 'nice' person you ever got close with, to my knowledge, was Blaine. And then he cheated on you, so... debatable."

Blinking, Kurt mentally goes over his friends. "Sam was nice... but I only really got to know him because we lived together." Kurt shrugs, "I guess Elliot is the exception?"

"Great." Sebastian goes back to stabbing at his waffles.

Kurt's confused. Sebastian had never cared about his friendships before. He'd never shown any interest in what Kurt was doing when they weren't together. He'd tried to pretend interest back when they first met up, but after they had relaxed around each other, it seemed to not matter anymore. So why now?

Noticing that Sebastian's mood had dropped even further, Kurt leans against the fridge and huffs. "What's up with you today? Are you that upset that you couldn't trick someone into bed on your birthday?"

Glaring, Sebastian drops his fork and looks up at Kurt. "I wasn't trying to 'trick someone into bed' last night." After a few seconds, he concedes, "Okay, it would have been awesome, but that's not what I'm after."

Kurt scoffs, pushing away and walking out of the kitchen. "It's all you've ever been after, Bas. How is now any different?"

Kurt is shocked when he's grabbed from behind and turned around, held closely in Sebastian's arms. Eyes wide, Kurt asks, "Uh, what the hell are you doing?"

Sebastian looks down at him before sighing heavily and dropping his head down on Kurt's shoulder. "I gave myself til my birthday, and then I fucking chickened out."

Still confused, Kurt tries to push him away a little so he can see Sebastian's face. "What? Chickened out about what? What the hell are you talking about, Bas?"

Gripping him tighter, Sebastian suddenly raises his head just enough to press his lips to Kurt's.

Shocked still for long seconds, Kurt snaps out of it when Sebastian rubs his lips against his. Pushing him backward and away, Kurt is suddenly reminded of that day long ago in the locker room. How does this shit keep happening to me?

"Sebastian! What the fuck?!" Seeing the slump of his shoulders, Kurt freezes. What the hell is going on? What the fuck was that?

Sebastian moves over to the couch and sits down on it, flopping back and rubbing his hands over his face. "I'm sorry." After a few seconds of silence, he starts laughing. Kurt wants to slap him. And he would, but the laugh starts to turn hysterical and Kurt is just confused again.

Sitting on the table in front of the couch with his knees almost close enough to touch Sebastian's, Kurt asks, "Bas... what the fuck is going on?"

Letting out a gusty sigh, Sebastian drops his hands and stares at Kurt, not moving. "Last night I convinced you to come out with me so that I could tell you something, I've been wanting to tell you for months." Seeing the arched eyebrow, he groans. "I know. I couldn't do it. We got to the bar, and I tried to get you to dance with me, and you snorted or something. You acted like us dancing was the craziest idea you'd ever heard. So I said fuck it. I figured I'd dance for awhile, maybe drink a little, and hopefully I'd get the courage to tell you when we got back."

Kurt frowns. Yeah, Sebastian had asked him to dance, but he'd also grabbed his ass. He was always trying to feel him up when they went out and that really was the last thing Kurt needed. One wrong move and then he'd find out about Kurt's stupid... crush. And then he'd either laugh himself silly and disappear, or worse, pity him.

So Kurt just avoided all physical contact with him, as much as possible. Kurt was a strong person. He'd been through a lot. But being rejected and pitied by Sebastian was just about the worse thing he could think of at this point.

When Sebastian crosses his arms and pouts at Kurt, he tries not to laugh. He looks like a five year old.

"Then that guy showed up." Kurt mutters 'his name is Elliot' but he's ignored. "The night had been going okay. Not great, because you were just sitting at the bar, but okay. At least you were watching me, so I had some hope. But then that guy went over and touched your ass."

Frowning, Kurt has to think back. Oh! 'That guy' is the douche, not Elliot.

"Before I could get over there, your knight in shining eyeliner showed up. And kissed you." Kurt wants to giggle at that. It had been weird. It was a bit like kissing Rachel. Ew. That thought just pisses Kurt off though. Elliot is a hot gay guy. I should be fine kissing him! Damn you for ruining me.

His thoughts must not show on his face because Sebastian continues, "And you didn't hit him! If I had kissed you like that last night, you'd have hit me! Hell, even just now you pushed me away!" Glaring over at the wall, away from Kurt, he spits out, "But no. 'Just friends Elliot' got a hug and you sat and talked with him. You stopped watching me. Hell, you didn't even pay attention to who I was dancing with."

Well, excuse me for not just sitting by and waiting on my turn to be hit on, asshole.

"When he started whispering in your ear, I couldn't take it anymore. At that point I just wanted to say fuck it and go home. Clearly, I'd wasted my time trying to figure out how to tell you, because it didn't matter, did it? You barely let me within arm's reach of you, unless you think I'm too drunk to stand. But that guy, a guy I'd never seen you with, that you'd never mentioned to me at all, you let him do whatever he wanted."

Kurt wants to defend himself, he had mentioned Elliot before, just never by name. And the reason he was okay being touched by him was because he didn't want Elliot. But I can't exactly tell him that, can I?

"Then, when we got here... I tried to touch you. I just wanted to see how you'd react. You stopped me. I knew you would, but it hurt, dammit. He-"

Finally hearing enough, Kurt gets up and walks away, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "I'm so sorry I wouldn't sleep with you on your birthday, Bas. I don't do hook ups. As you well know." When it sounds like Sebastian is going to try to talk, Kurt turns, tears in his eyes,

"No. You got to speak, my turn. You got me to go out, on a night I didn't want to go out on. But it was your birthday, and I wanted to make you happy. Then, you got mad because I wouldn't let you feel me up on the dance floor. After that, you got pissed off that a friend of mine saved me from a knock-off Sebastian Smythe, circa 2011. To cap the night off, you tried again to get into my pants, just to see if you could!"

Breathing heavily, Kurt tries his best to suck the tears back in. He's not going to cry. He's not. If this is how the friendship ends, then I guess there wasn't much of one to begin with.

"I don't let you touch me because if I do, I'll do something stupid, like sleep with you." Huffing, Kurt turns away a little. "If you got me in bed, it would end with either you moving on and pretending it never happened; back to friends -only now, with memories I wouldn't be able to get out of my head- or you'd just stop talking to me altogether."

Not waiting on a response, Kurt looks at him again. "As flattering as it is that you find me hot enough to fuck now, it's not new. Believe it or not, there's guys that hit on me all the time at school. I don't know how I went from being the fem everyone ignored to the guy people drool over in dance classes. You wanting to fuck me? While I'd never have imagined it a few years ago, isn't terribly surprising. But I can't, Bas."

Sebastian growls and lurches off the couch, coming close to Kurt and gripping his arms. "I don't just want to fuck you, Kurt! If that's all I wanted, do you really think I'd have been this fucking nervous? Have I ever acted like this before?!"

Kurt frowns. Okay, so that's a good point. "Then... what the fuck is going on?"

Groaning and turning away from Kurt, Sebastian runs his hands through his hair before throwing his arms up. "I like you, okay?! Possibly even love you. I don't know. I've never been able to figure it out. You never cause me to feel just one thing. Ever. Not since the first day I met you, have I had any fucking clue what I was doing, or feeling for that matter. I didn't try too hard to figure it out back then!"

Kurt almost swallows his tongue. "Back when? When we met?!"

Glaring now, Sebastian nods. "Yeah. I was convinced that it didn't matter. If I took the time to work myself out, I'd have been all torn up over it and it would've been for no reason. You were so freaking into Blaine that nothing else existed, so it didn't matter. I just pushed it away. Or tried to. But then we met here, and Blaine was gone. At first, I thought you were the same... but after you started bitching me out, I realized you were... you again. But I still couldn't tell you... So I convinced myself that I'd have until my birthday to man the fuck up. Clearly, my will power is worse than a fat chick buying cookies outside the gym."

Kurt wants to smack him for the horrible comment, but is too busy freaking the fuck out. "No. Bullshit. You hated me in high school. I don't buy it."

Laughing, Sebastian runs his hands through his hair again. "No, I hated what Blaine had done to you. I hated Blaine's boyfriend, but I liked you. A lot. I just didn't get a chance to really meet you until New York."

This time it's Kurt that throws his hands up. "What the fuck are you talking about?! I was Blaine's boyfriend. So you did hate me. And if that's the case, then how did we not meet until New York? You're not making any fucking sense."

Sebastian just walks away, into his bedroom. Kurt almost follows but decides that going into a room with a bed is a terrible idea. Even if they're fighting, it's just better to avoid temptation all together. Before he can change his mind, Sebastian walks back out, carrying a really thick leather book.

It looks like a journal or something, littered with colored tabs of paper. Dozens of them. Kurt is surprised when Sebastian just shoves it at him. Taking it, Kurt asks, "What the hell is this?"

"What does it look like, princess? It's a road map. Just fucking read it." Glaring for a second, Kurt walks to the couch, sitting so he can lay it on his lap. "You can read the whole thing some day, if you want, but trust me, you don't want to. It's the thoughts and habits of 'Sebastian Smythe circa 2011'. Just stick to the tabs. When I decided to tell you, I dragged it out and went through it. I marked the days I thought you should read. It's not all flattering, of course, but it's honest. Start with the green tab."

Raising an eyebrow, Kurt goes back to the journal. He knows reading this is a mistake, but he's too curious to care.

Opening it to the green colored tab, Kurt starts to read:

[Wednesday, August 17, 2011]

So, today was the first day at my new school. My expectations were low, to say the least. It's Ohio. Granted, it's the biggest city, or close enough. Westerville is barely outside of Columbus, so it counts. But still... it's Ohio. I hate it here. I really wish Grand-mère would move back to Paris. It was bad enough coming for visits...

So how did my first day go? Three words.

Blaine Fucking Anderson.

All I heard about all day was some guy that used to go here named Blaine. He was 'amazing'. He was the main soloist in the Warblers, which this school treats like gods for some fucking reason. It's singing, who gives a shit? Apparently, every boy in this school, gay or straight. It's so fucking weird.

Do these poor bastards really have nothing better to do than sit around and listen to each other sing pop music? Jesus. Don't they know there are people out there that will suck their dicks if they leave these sainted halls and look for them? I feel like Alice... looking around at all the people I meet in this strange new place and wanting to ask them, 'Are you high?'

When Kurt looks up at Sebastian, he gestures at the journal. "Just keep reading. I didn't write every day, just when important shit happened. If you see a post it covering a page, just skip to the next tab."

Nodding, Kurt turns the page.

[Friday, September 2, 2011]

It's been over two weeks and you'll never guess what I did. I joined the fucking Warblers. I've lost my mind, clearly. I drank the Kool-Aid. Now I'm wasting precious time that I could spend studying or looking for my next lay... singing.

I've always had a good voice. I've used it more than a few times to woo some poor sap into bed. It's pretty easy to convince some obliging twink to let you fuck them if you whisper in their ear in French. If the last guy knew I was just telling him I needed to hurry up and fuck him because I couldn't take the smell of his neediness any longer, he probably wouldn't have let me bend him over his desk chair.

He thought it was hot that we 'couldn't even make it to the bed'. Really, I just didn't want to spend extra time getting up and finding my clothes. Instead all I had to do was pull my pants up and leave. I wonder how he explained the stains on the chair to his parents? I'm just glad he was quick... I don't like to leave before they finish but if he'd have 'moaned' in that high, squeaky voice one more time, I'd have just bailed. I need to be more selective.

Anyway, I joined the Warblers for three reasons. One, they asked me. The blonde one heard me singing in my room while I was doing my schoolwork and he busted in to give me a formal invite to audition. He's weird, but kind of hot, so I went with it. Too bad he's Taken. And yes, that's capitalized. But it was flattering and they were gushing like schoolgirls with new hairbows to show off, so I went with it.

The second reason is because they really are like fucking gods in this school. When it came out that I was the new lead for the choir (seriously guys, you know that it's just singing right?) suddenly I had slips of paper with numbers written on them shoved at me and previously 'straight' boys knocking on my door at night. It was hilarious. Only about a third made the cut and none ranked spending the night or a repeat performance, but it was ego boosting none the less.

Third, it would get me out to competitions to meet other willing participants. What better way to meet young desperate gay boys than in fucking show choir?

The only downside is that I'm hearing even more about 'Blainers' now. I really hate that guy, whoever he is. He's all they talk about. How awesome his voice was, how great of a dancer he was, how hot he was. It's almost worth looking up the guy just so I can see what all the fuss is about. He must be quite the fucking catch.

[Tuesday, October, 4, 2011]

I'm about to lose it. Anytime I try to bring up sectionals, the Warblers start whining and lamenting the loss of Blaine Fucking Anderson. I get it. He's the epitome of all things hot. Let's move on shall we? Since he dumped you guys. Jesus. The entire club is full of needy exes that won't stop calling or show up naked in your closet. I don't blame the guy for running if they were hiding in his bushes or something. But it does make my job harder.

How can I get these idiots to focus if all they do is pine for the guy that bailed? Ugh.

[Monday, November, 7, 2011]

So... I finally got the guys to concentrate on a number and we've been practicing it for weeks. And today, guess who shows up? Blaine Fucking Anderson.

I'm pretty sure I was the only one to notice some random guy showing up to watch us. No wonder these guys never make it very far in competitions if they don't even notice they're being spied on. It didn't take long to figure out who he was. When I pulled him into the group I think a couple guys wet their pants. Gross.

(side note before I go into what actually happened, the guy would be hot if he actually tried, but he's... weird. He wears bow ties and gels his hair into Sorcerer's Stone Draco Malfoy helmets... ugh. His face isn't bad and the blushing is hot... whatever.)

After the performance (which we'll have to scrap now, thanks Blainers) I got him to sit down to coffee with me. I don't really have any plans yet, I just wanted to talk to him. After all I'd been hearing about him, it was actually really disappointing.

I tried out some flirting, and he was definitely into it, judging by the blushing. But, he didn't say anything about the boyfriend he apparently left Dalton for, according to the Warblers. Maybe they broke up? He made a vague allusion to his heart being at his new school, so that's probably what he meant, but why not just say so?

I asked to meet him again and he agreed, now I just have to decide what I want to do. I guess he's worth fucking if he's willing.

[Tuesday, November 8, 2011]

godfuckingdammit. Once again I was forced to sit through another session of the Blaine Anderson Fanclub formerly known as Warbler practice. He shows up with tickets to see his fucking high school musical and it's all these idiots can talk about. Not to mention, now they won't shut up about his fucking boyfriend too. I don't know who Kurt Hummel is either, but fuck them both.

Apparently not only is he good enough in bed that he convinced his fucking boyfriend to leave a school he was worshiped in, but he's also an amazing singer. Jesus, where did these guys come from? Kurt is apparently a male soprano. Now the damn Warblers won't shut up about missing the high notes he could hit. Damn it. I bet Blaine makes him hit those high notes too.

Oh shit. That's perfect! I'll break up the dream team! If I get Blaine the Wonderboy to cheat on his little twink, they'll be heartbroken and probably blow their sectionals, the Warblers will see Blaine isn't so fucking perfect, and I'll have managed to fuck one of the most sought after guys from Dalton. I wonder if I should try to take pictures for proof?

[Wednesday, November 9, 2011]

It was him! The guy from the mall!

Okay, wait. So today, I met with Blaine to implement Operation: Fuck A Wonderboy, and I'm sitting there flirting with him, and it's going great. He's stammering and blushing and eating up the cocky swagger I do so well... Then he finally fessed up to having a boyfriend. I told him I didn't care, because seriously, that's the point, right? But... he's basically saying 'Yeah, you're hot, but it's not worth screwing this up.'

Normally, that would piss me off to no end, because I'm a much better fuck than whoever this guy is right? Except before he can say anything else, who walks up but the fucking mall guy! I couldn't believe it! I kept staring at him, trying to convince myself it wasn't him.

Confused, Kurt looks up to Sebastian. "Mall guy?"

Sebastian coughs. "Um... the first day we met? It wasn't the first time I'd seen you. That's what I've been trying to tell you. Here." Sebastian takes the journal, tucking a bookmark he'd grabbed earlier into that entry so Kurt can go back to it when he's done with this one and flipping to the red tab.

Nodding, Kurt looks down at the entry from months before Sebastian had even moved to Ohio.

[Thursday, April 28, 2011]

Jesus Christ.

So, I'm staying with my grand-mère for Easter hols and I've been bored out of my mind. I decided to hang out at the mall, hoping to find someone to make out with at least. When I first got there I noticed there was a group of weirdos dancing around, trying to get people to clear space in front of the doors. I know now that they were setting up a flash mob.

At the time I just thought they should shut up and move. Then I saw this guy... the first thing I noticed was his clothes. They were really... bright. It was all bright red, white, and blue. Like the freakin 4th of July. He was even wearing a red fedora. Anyway, the clothes made me look over and I didn't regret it. He was wearing tight ass red jeans. When he was standing straight they were normal, but when he started dancing... Jesus.

Anyway, it was a nice visual but not enough to make me stop and watch. Until a guy with a mohawk made some comment, I didn't hear. The next thing I know Bitchy McHotPants turns around and unleashes on the guy. He said something about how if they didn't do it right, it wouldn't convince 'her' not to do 'it'. When Mohawk started to complain again, the dude just pointed at him and Mohawk shut up.

Seriously... Mohawk had 30-40 lbs and like 3 inches on the guy and he got right up in his face, bitching him out for not trying hard enough or something. It was awesome.

I did eventually move on, even I don't care enough about ass to stand and perv on a dude for hours. But when I got bored and decided to leave, I noticed that the group of people from before were standing near the escalators and glancing nervously up to the second floor.

Of course I went to check it out, and there was the guy. I picked a pillar to lean against that was close enough that I could see and hear him without drawing his attention. I could hear him bitching to someone on the phone about how 'Noah' had asked him for a favor and then whined about him being too harsh. As he hung up the phone though, he said 'I miss you too, sweetie! Don't worry, we'll have a date night this weekend.'

So he's taken. Which sucks. He's totally not the type that would mess around either. I could tell by watching that he was the fem, 'love of my life' kind of guy. Sucks though. The things I would do to that ass...

So a few minutes after he hangs up, we hear some chick walking close and she's pretty loud. The guy crossed his arms and called out to them. Apparently the girl, who did have quite the nose on her, wanted to get a nose job. I don't know why they cared, but wow, did this guy ever.

After she asked if 'she' was there, the guy looked at her like she was braindead and said 'This is a mall in Ohio.' I'm just glad my snort didn't turn their heads. Then he started some lecture about Barbra Streisand and how she never got a nose job. Whatever. Anyway, after it didn't work, because really? He gestures to someone, I later found out it was Mohawk, to start music.

From the second he started snapping his shoulders with that cocked eyebrow I couldn't have looked away if a bomb went off. When he bent over and started swinging his hips I had to check and make sure I hadn't just slipped into a daydream. Who the fuck dances like that in a mall?! People can see you! Like... kids and shit. Normally that wouldn't bother me but yeah... he needed to not do that in front of other people. I've been told my room has great lighting. He should dance like that there.

Anyway... when they went down the escalator, I managed to get a spot on the edge of the second floor, where I could see the whole thing. I'm just glad the glass railing was sturdy. There were times when his pants stretched over his ass that I was worried about breaking something.

Everything about that guy made me want to fuck him into whatever surface was handy. Okay, yes, his voice got a little high sometimes, and that's usually not my thing. And I don't usually go for the fem types... but he more than offset both of those with his attitude and ass. He can bitch me out anytime. Even Mohawk, who was obviously one of those overly straight jock types, was wrapped around this dude's finger. He was even dancing with him at the end!

Don't know who his boyfriend (because if he's dating a girl, I will too.) is, but he's a lucky SOB. I wonder if he's a top or a bottom? Fuck, either is fine. Usually I can only see that type as a bottom but I'm pretty sure he could slap on some leather and walk into any BDSM club in the country and have his boots licked within minutes.

Gah. I need to go think about anything else. Damn.

When Kurt finishes the entry he stares at Sebastian with wide eyes. Clearing his throat, Seb just takes the journal and flips it back to the previous entry, of that day in the Lima Bean. Kurt starts it over from the beginning.

[Wednesday, November 9, 2011]

It was him! The guy from the mall!

Okay, wait. So today, I met with Blaine to implement Operation: Fuck A Wonderboy, and I'm sitting there flirting with him, and it's going great. He's stammering and blushing and eating up the cocky swagger I do so well... Then he finally fessed up to having a boyfriend. I told him I didn't care, because seriously, that's the point, right? But... he's basically saying 'Yeah, you're hot, but it's not worth screwing this up.'

Normally, that would piss me off to no end, because I'm a much better fuck than whoever this guy is right? Except before he can say anything else, who walks up but the fucking mall guy! I couldn't believe it! I kept staring at him, trying to convince myself it wasn't him.

I'm still not really convinced it's not! He's so fucking different to how he was that day. The guy I met today came in wearing this stupid poncho sweater thing and spoke so... softly and girly. It was... off putting. To say the least. If he isn't mall guy, I have no interest whatsoever. If that had been my first time ever seeing Kurt Hummel I have to wonder where my head would be. He was just so... ugh. He screamed virgin, he was all buttoned up and talking about doing skin care shit with his boyfriend over the fucking phone... you know you can have phone sex, right? That's a thing.

I don't know. If he is mall guy, Jesus Christ what has the past six months done to him? And if he's not, he's got a very hot doppelganger out there somewhere. Maybe he has a brother? I should look into that. If his glee club had made it to nationals they're bound to have a website or a facebook or something right?

I've got to find out if that's him. The only thing that made me think maybe I had the right guy was the bitchy attitude he had right before I left. His voice (hell, his whole face) dropped when he agreed to go to Scandals. For one brief second I could see the boy at the mall in there. It was like watching a spy drop his persona or something... If that really is him... what the fuck happened?!

[Thursday, November 10, 2011]

It's not him. It can't be. I did everything I could tonight to fuck with him without pissing Blaine off too much, because I'm still going to fuck that guy. Now it's just the principal of the matter. He's fucked up this whole school year, and he will pay for it.

But Kurt! It can't be mall guy. I made shitty comments, ordered him a fucking Shirley Temple, blatantly hit on his boyfriend, and even got Blaine to dance with me for most of the night... and he didn't do a damn thing! Mall guy would have torn my fucking nuts off! And made a purse with them.

Kurt sat at the bar and watched us. Eventually some bear showed up and was flirting with him. Shortly after that he decided to come over and steal his man back... but... the dancing. It's not him! Mall guy knew how to dance. He was sexy as hell. But Kurt... he was like... shimmying and twirling and shit. Granted, it wasn't like it was a Paris night club at 2am on a Saturday. It's Lima, Ohio. And it's a Thursday. And barely 10pm. Blaine and I weren't dancing much better, I couldn't exactly grind on the dude in front of Kurt... but... ugh. I need to find out if it's him. For sure. And if it is... I don't know. I can't take the guy he is now seriously at all. But I'd at least hold out some hope for the future.

[Friday, November 11, 2011]

Okay. It's him. Shit. I saw West Side Story today. Maria was the nose job chick. Bernardo was Mohawk. A few of the other people I noticed in the crowd that day were in the damn play too. And there was no mysterious twin everyone had failed to mention. Apparently he does have a brother but he's huge and looks nothing like him.

Fuck.

So much hotness wasted. Why? What the fuck happened to him since he staged a flash mob and imprinted his ass on my retinas?

[Thursday, November 24, 2011]

It's Thanksgiving, which I'm still not really used to. Grand-mère has made us celebrate it a few times but it's still confusing. We're eating a giant meal to remember something about a truce made with Indians... that we later tricked into using smallpox ridden blankets and killed in droves. I don't even.

Whatever. I get to see Grand-mère and she doesn't mind if I hide in my room while most of the 'gathering' goes on. It's all rich stuffy people.

So, ever since I figured out that Kurt is in fact mall boy, I've avoided meeting back up with him. It's too depressing. Such potential being wasted annoys me. Blaine on the other hand I've kept in contact with through facebook and Skype. He even gave me his number, although he refuses to sext me. I would just stop, give up, but I'm starting to wonder if it's his fault that Kurt became... whatever the fuck he is now.

If so, that can't be forgiven. He was so fucking amazing that day. And now he's... uptight. And girly. And just so fucking calm. And it just makes me wonder what the deal is. Ugh. No. I'm not doing this. I'm not going to sit here and obsess over this crap. He was hot. Now he's... weird. And taken, so it doesn't matter.

Maybe if I do get Blaine in bed it'll snap Kurt out of whatever this weird phase is?

[Tuesday, December 6, 2011]

Saw them again today. They were in the Lima Bean. At first I tried to just not look at him. He was still wearing that constipated smile that I want to wipe off his face and acting all, 'aren't we just the best couple ever!'

There was some hope though. As soon as Blaine stepped away, Kurt started blasting me with everything that he's obviously been holding back. When he first said 'I don't like you' I felt this huge sigh of relief. He's in there! I just have to get him out! And away from Blaine Fucking Anderson. Luckily I'm ingrained with the ability to insult anyone, no matter how excited I was about the glimpse of 'mall boy' I caught today.

Taunting him about Blaine being too good for him put the constipated look back on his face though... is that the fucking problem? Does he really believe that? So help me god, if the reason that amazingly hot piece of ass turned into a total uptight basket case is because of Blaine's "perfection" I will hurt someone.

Blaine is okay. He's kind of hot. But he ain't got shit on mall guy. If only I could get the old Kurt Hummel to come out and play for longer than it takes to order a coffee.

[Friday, December 9, 2011]

New Directions' sectionals were tonight. Kurt was the male lead in the first song. It was 'ABC' so they played it off as fun, goofy, whatever. It was obviously choreographed so I can't really judge the dancing style in relation to him. He was one of the better ones trying to pull off those moves. It's not my style, that playfulness, but he made it work. His attempt at 'sexy' almost made me fall out of my chair laughing. God I hope it was intentional. It seemed like it was. I've seen him do sexy, that wasn't it. They were just having fun I guess.

It's too bad about the kid in the wheelchair, he's their best Michael by far.

Blaine was awesome, as expected.

Kurt's face when that chick walked away was hilarious, I wonder what she said? I'd love to induce that face.

As Kurt goes to turn the page, Sebastian stops him. When he looks up the taller boy winces. "After that it's... the slushie. And other stuff... you get the point. That's where my head was back then. Like I said, if you want to read all of it, you can, but not right now. Most of it is just me bragging about getting laid. I was kind of intolerable."

Kurt snorts but doesn't speak. Instead he closes the book and lays his hands over it. "So... you saw me when we staged the Barbra-vention."

Cocking an eyebrow, Sebastian says, "If that's what that was, yes. I was there. Staring at your ass. And watching you lead Noah Puckerman around like he was on a fucking leash. You have no idea how hot that was."

For the first time in a long time, Kurt doesn't know what the hell to say. Not only had Sebastian seen him back in junior year... he'd liked him. Kind of a lot, from the sounds of it. Enough that he'd recognized him six months later when Kurt had admittedly changed quite a bit. He's not sure if he would have been able to recognize himself back then.

When he'd met Sebastian, he was smack in the middle of one of his worst time periods in high school, beaten only by the Karofsky terror. He was being told left, right, and center that he didn't deserve Blaine, and that he wasn't good enough. He was just what Sebastian described him as, an uptight basket case. But Bas had recognized the boy from the mall, and had been more interested in him than in Blaine.

In fact, apparently, his interest in Blaine was mainly due to him being 'Blaine Anderson', not because he really liked him, or thought he was hot. Kurt would be pissed off on Blaine's behalf if he wasn't too busy being smug about the fact that Seb hadn't like him as a person, but had liked Kurt. Well, junior year Kurt.

Putting the journal down on the table, Kurt moves to sit on his hands so he doesn't pick it back up and re-read the mall entry. Okay, so he's being narcissistic, sue him. No one liked him back then. To find out one of the hottest guys he's ever met did is blowing Kurt's mind a little.

Clearing his throat and trying to focus -because seriously, I can arm flail about this later- Kurt looks up at Sebastian, who looks... nervous.

"So... I'm still not really getting what all this means. It's all a bit much to take in."

Sebastian huffs and moves to the couch, sitting on the other side from Kurt so there's still a few feet between them. "What I'm saying is... I've liked you for... well, years, actually. That first time I saw you, you were sexy, and funny, and amazing. If I had been living there at the time, I'd have found a way to get you to dump Blaine. If you'd still been that guy, I'd have tried my best to do it when I did move there. But you were so wrapped up in Blaine that I knew I'd missed my chance."

Kurt shifts. "But... you didn't really like me. You liked this idea of a boy you saw one day. You hated who I was when we met."

Sebastian smirks. "Okay, let me ask you this." Kurt just nods uncertainly. "Did you like who you were when I met you?"

At Kurt's wide eyes, Seb adds, "I don't know if you realize just how different you were, but I really didn't think it was the same boy. I never thought 'oh, I must have been wrong, that guy doesn't exist'. It never even entered my mind. I just thought you were someone else. Then, when I saw your friends and knew it was you, I immediately jumped to the conclusion that something had happened that changed you. I never thought 'oh, maybe I was wrong about him'."

Kurt shrugs, "It sounds like you just can't admit when you're wrong."

Sebastian snorts. "We both know that's not true. I don't like to, but I can. I admitted I was wrong about a lot of things my junior year. Treating Dave the way I did, putting shit in that slushie, and trying to blackmail Finn and Rachel. I admitted all of that was wrong, even back then. I could have admitted, at least to myself, that you weren't who I thought you were. But I wasn't wrong. Was I?"

Kurt sucks in a breath. "No. You weren't." When all Sebastian does is wait, Kurt huffs. "A lot of things were screwed up back then. The play that Blaine invited you to... I auditioned for Tony. Blaine auditioned for a different part... with a Tony song. And they asked him to take lead instead. I was also convinced that Blaine wasn't attracted to me at the time. So that caused some... tension. Blaine was playing a romantic role with Rachel, who he'd made out with before, and I was feeling like I wasn't good enough for him."

Laughing bitterly, he adds, "Then I met you, and you flat out told me I wasn't good enough. Even when Blaine and I did... get intimate, it wasn't... because he really wanted me and just decided he'd waited long enough. I really don't want to get into it. But I was very wound up and I had no release for it. The one person that was supposed to make me feel desirable and loved... didn't. In fact, not long after your apology, he made me feel cheap and dirty for liking compliments I got from another guy. It was just... a weird time. So no, I guess I can't really blame you for not liking that guy. And no, I didn't either, I just couldn't change back. That's the main reason I can't ever see getting back together with him. We love each other, and probably always will, but he made me that, and I made him whiny and insecure."

Sebastian growls quietly. "Okay, I'm going to skip over a lot of what you just said, because most of it pissed me off and that's just not what we need right now. There will be a talk in our future about that year." Kurt laughs, trying to shake off bad memories. "But what I am going to say, is, at least you agree with me. For the record, I didn't hate you all the time. Ironically, I loved it when we fought."

Sputtering, Kurt says, "W-what?! We were horrible to each other! Some of the worst things I've ever said in my entire life, I said to you, during those months."

Laughing, Sebastian crosses his arms. "Oh, I remember. I almost laughed at the craigslist thing. One of the best insults I've ever heard. I almost didn't care that it was used against me. But the point is, during those times, you were almost 'mall boy'. You were snarky and bitchy. You dropped the fake smiles and the forced calm and unleashed that inner diva. And it was hot as fuck. It made me hope that you were still in there and would break out again some day. I'm glad I was right."

Still processing, Kurt leans back against the arm of the couch, bringing his feet up so that he can wrap his arms around his knees. "Okay, so... does this mean you want to date me? Because you know I don't hook up... I tried that one time and I paid for it dearly. I've been tempted to throw that rule out the window the past few months, but I really couldn't handle just having sex with you. "

Sidetracked, Sebastian asks, "Wait, you had a one night stand?! When? How have I not heard about this?"

Kurt groans. "Not really. I tried to. It's a long story. Just... never trust a mall Santa that calls himself Sexy Claus, okay?"

Blinking at Kurt for a few seconds, he eventually says, "Right... so... you have thought about being with me? You said you couldn't handle just sex."

Kurt blushes, but forces himself to answer. Hell, Bas let me read his journal, I can at least admit this much.

"Yes. That's what I was talking to Elliot about last night, actually. He was telling me about his new boyfriend, and I was telling him how I liked a friend of mine that just wanted to drag me out to bars, then ignore me."

Sebastian leans forward, "Hey! I tried to get you to dance with me! You said no. What was I supposed to do? Throw you over my shoulder?"

Blushing again, Kurt mumbles, "I thought you were just looking for a quick fuck. I didn't know you actually liked me."

Sebastian smirks, getting up on his knees to crawl forward, coming face to face with Kurt and pushing him backward. "So, next time we go out, you're going to dance with me, right?"

Swallowing, Kurt sinks further down into the couch. "Sure, if you promise to keep all of your clones from touching my ass."

"No problem. I promise not to leave your ass alone, undefended." Sebastian moves his arms to each side of Kurt's head, pressing his full body down on him.

Kurt groans, feeling Sebastian's quickly hardening erection pressed into his leg. "Just so you know, I'm not having sex with you today. I'm a strictly third date kind of guy."

Sebastian grins, leaning down and speaking with his lips almost touching Kurt's. "Those things aren't mutually exclusive. It's early, I could squeeze two dates in before dinner."

Laughing, Kurt reaches his hands up to run his fingers through the back of Sebastian's hair. "Nice try, but no. One date per day."

Predictably, Sebastian whines, "Kurrrt! I've been wanting to get you naked for years. Please tell me you're kidding."

"Sorry, I'm definitely not kidding." Seeing Seb's pout, Kurt smirks. "But... Those things aren't mutually exclusive."

Frowning, Sebastian leans away a few inches so he can look at Kurt easier, "What?"

Kurt leans forward, whispering in his ear, "Just because I won't have sex today, doesn't mean you can't see me naked. I've wanted to get you naked for quite awhile too, ya know."

Kurt is amazed and impressed at how quickly Sebastian is up and off the couch, lifting him in his arms, and striding quickly toward his room.

Wrapping his arms around Seb's neck, Kurt huffs. "Really?"

Sebastian smirks as he closes his bedroom door with one foot. Hey, you seemed against the 'over the shoulder/fireman's lift' idea. So I figured the 'princess lift' fit you a bit better."

The only sound that could be heard over the shutting of the door was a loud smack and an "Ow!"


Thanks for reading! ^_^