A/N: Inspired by Grant Gustin's comment about what he thinks Sebastian Smythe's reaction to meeting Barry Allen would be (with a special surprise guest at the end).
Kurt shifts slightly in his bistro chair - straightening his back, lengthening his neck, adjusting his posture. He tries his hardest to appear relaxed and breezy, absorbed in his own lunch and utterly unconcerned with the world around him. He takes occasional dainty sips of his cucumber water, conservative bites of his spinach and chicken salad, and thumbs idly through the issue of Harper's Bazaar open on his table.
Except, he's not all that interested in his lunch. The vinaigrette is overpowering, most of the spinach drenched, and the chicken bland as wood shavings. He's not really reading his magazine, either. It's just an elaborate prop so Kurt can watch him.
This is insane. Kurt has never actively stalked anyone before. He has friends who have, but not him. Not like this, by employing subterfuge - showing up exactly when Kurt knows he'll be there; picking a table with the best, unguarded view, but also far enough away so as not to be obvious; ordering a meal that's not too complicated or messy so he won't attract too much attention, and also so he will look appropriately poised if he's seen eating it; and the magazine, the perfect excuse to stare for long stretches in the same direction without incurring suspicion.
He even dressed for this, changing out of his usual McQueen suit and borrowing something a bit more upscale from the Vogue vault. If that doesn't (stylishly) scream desperation, Kurt doesn't know what would.
Kurt feels so guilty. He has a boyfriend – an amazing boyfriend. He loves his boyfriend; they love each other. Kurt would never cheat. He knows what that feels like, and he would never inflict that pain on anyone. But this man Kurt's been anonymously eating lunch near for weeks is so different from Kurt's boyfriend – reserved, polite, bashful, with a quiet dignity, and yet …
Kurt wishes he had someone to talk to about this, but with Rachel in California shooting her TV show and Mercedes on tour, the only person available to him right now is Chandler. Kurt met up with him again when he moved to New York, and managed to swing him the internship at Vogue when Kurt was officially hired on as Isabelle Wright's assistant. Chandler is the ultimate best friend - sweet, attentive, always willing to lend an ear, able to drop everything at a moment's notice to stop by for cheesecake and conversation. He also has the biggest mouth for gossip of any human being Kurt knows. He doesn't intentionally blab, but if the info is too juicy, his filter dissolves, and it's like he can't help himself. But Kurt might just risk it because not having someone else's insight on this situation is maddening. Kurt knows who he is in his heart. He knows what he will and will not do. But still, this attraction has him so … confused.
Kurt's eyes shift away from the man three tables over to focus on his magazine – a magazine he's read cover to cover about fifteen times already. Kurt sighs in contempt at himself. This isn't insane, it's ludicrous, and what he needs to do right now is stand up, leave, and not come back.
"So, what are we eating?"
The intrusion is so sudden, it makes Kurt snap his head up right as another person joins him, taking the seat directly across from him and completely blocking his view of the man at the other table. Kurt doesn't even register the intruder completely before his stomach flips. Kurt knows that voice. Its signature is imprinted in his brain, in his heart, and on every inch of his skin.
Kurt's been caught.
"Sebastian?" Kurt leans over the table, keeping his voice low. They're seated on an outdoor terrace facing the sidewalk, but in the lull of the late afternoon, voices carry. "What are you …? How did you …?"
"Oh come on, Kurt," Sebastian says, rolling his eyes, "give me a little credit. I've had a GPS tracking app activated on your iPhone for months now."
Kurt's expression goes from anxious to aghast in a blink. "You've been spying on me?"
"Not you," Sebastian drawls. "Your phone, doofus. You've lost it about six times in the last four months. I mean, I know we've got the money, but it's a little frustrating replacing your frickin' iPhone all the time." Kurt crosses his arms and sits back in his chair. He hates it when Sebastian's right. "Anyway," Sebastian continues, "when you started dogging me for lunch dates, I just kicked that little baby in gear and came up with this new café you seem to be so enamored with." Sebastian glances around, scrunching his nose judgmentally. It's a quaint (for lack of a better word) out-of-the-way place, but not somewhere Kurt would normally go, and definitely not a place Sebastian would ever admit to eating. "Though I'm not so much convinced it's the food you're hankering for since your Amex card says you only spend about ten dollars here. I'm thinking … a salad." Sebastian looks down at Kurt's plate of half-eaten spinach leaves and bone-dry chicken, and gestures to it in triumph.
"Wow," Kurt says, not sure if he should be impressed by Sebastian's sleuthing skills or alarmed, "stalker a lot, or just the people you're dating?"
It's not until the words come out of his mouth that Kurt realizes he's the pot, and he just called the kettle black.
"Pretty much everyone, sweetheart," Sebastian says. "But mostly the people I live with, the people I sleep with, the people I share my life with, the people I talk about marrying ..." Sebastian has more, but he feels no need to elaborate. Kurt knows that Sebastian has only done three out of the four of those things with him. The sharp pang of guilt Kurt's been feeling shows quite obviously on his face, especially at the mention of marriage. Because even if Sebastian had always thought about it, Kurt's the one who brought it up, doubting on several occasions whether or not Sebastian ever intended on asking him, and starting fights that might have been fatal to their relationship if not for one thing.
They love each other – deeply and truly love each other.
Also because, though he's not letting on, Kurt can detect a smidgen of hurt in Sebastian's tone.
"Sebastian," Kurt starts to apologize, "I …"
"So let's see who's on the menu, hmm?" Sebastian cuts in, his smile tight. He sits up and sweeps his eyes around. It's the middle of April, and the city is still thawing from a harsher-than-normal winter, so even though it's after noon and the café inside is busy, the patio is mostly empty. There's really only three other options besides Kurt and Sebastian, and one of them is a dead giveaway. When Sebastian turns in his chair and sees him, sitting a few tables away, his jaw drops, and bitterness morphs into disbelief.
"Oh my God!" Sebastian laughs. "What the-he looks just like me!"
"Yeah," Kurt says, not feeling any better about this when that revelation softens Sebastian's hard edge a little. "I noticed that, too."
"Well, I can understand the attraction. I guess I didn't have to worry too much, did I?" Sebastian still sounds bothered, but he's much more amused now. Sebastian turns back to Kurt, the corner of his mouth quirking into a wicked grin. "Is it weird that I want to hit that?"
"Sebastian!" Kurt gasps louder than he meant to, causing the other two occupants on the terrace to look his way.
"Well, fuck, Kurt!" Sebastian peeks back over his shoulder at the man – the only person who hasn't seemed to notice them. "I'm a handsome man!"
"Sebastian!"
"You know that I think?" Sebastian asks, though Kurt already knows he's not going to wait for Kurt to give him an answer. "I think this is a once in a lifetime opportunity."
"Wh-what?" Kurt sputters, mortified when he sees Sebastian get up out of his seat. "Wh-no, Sebastian. What are you doing?"
"I'm going to go say hello to your little friend over there," Sebastian says, grin spreading.
"Sebastian!" Kurt hisses, lowering his voice self-consciously even though he knows that any attempt at keeping this conversation secret has long since fizzled. "Sebastian!" Kurt grabs at his boyfriend's sleeve. "No. Don't. I'm begging you. Please, don't."
Sebastian pulls his arm away and makes his way through the tables to the one where his lookalike sits, mulling over a thick stack of paperwork, not even touching the turkey club sandwich on his plate. Kurt watches on in horror as Sebastian walks over to the man's table and, without being acknowledged or invited, sits down. Kurt considers getting up and walking away, leaving Sebastian to think twice about humiliating him in absentia, but Kurt knows it won't matter. Sebastian doesn't back down … ever. He'd just show the man pictures on his phone of his pathetic boyfriend who's been drooling over him, making sure that Kurt could never show his face in this part of town again.
When the man looks up from the papers he's reading, his reaction is almost identical to Sebastian's – his jaw dropping, his eyes widening, a strange twitch pulling at the corner of his mouth, as if he doesn't know whether to laugh or not.
"Uh, hey," he says, settling for an uneasy smile. "May I … may I help you?"
"Yeah," Sebastian says. "I thought since you and I have the same face, I'd come over here and introduce myself." Sebastian sticks out a hand. "Sebastian Smythe."
"Barry," the other man says, taking Sebastian's hand and shaking it. "Barry Allen."
"Great," Sebastian says. "You new here, Barry? Because I think I'd remember if I'd seen myself before."
"I … yeah," Barry says. "I'm from Central City, but I'm … uh … just visiting."
Kurt doesn't want to listen in on this conversation. Actually, he wants to curl up underneath his table and disappear into the pavement, but he can't help it. It's like watching a horrible, bloody accident take place. At least Sebastian is making the conversation all about him, and hasn't mentioned Kurt.
"You work for the police department?" Sebastian asks, taking a glance at the folders stacked on Barry's table, the top one with a Property of the NYPD stamp in the center.
"Um … yeah," Barry answers cautiously, like he's not sure how much he should admit, especially to a man who looks like himself. "Yeah, I do."
"That's hot. Always had a thing for men in uniform. So, my man over there …" Sebastian turns suddenly and points out Kurt "… has a huge crush on you."
Kurt hears the words come out of Sebastian's mouth and his heart freezes.
"Oh." Barry's brow draws in the middle. He looks Kurt's way, and Kurt, paralyzed, does nothing but stare back, gaping like dying bass.
"And I have to say" - Sebastian chuckles when he glimpses Kurt's face - "you are kind of easy on the eyes. But then again, I've always thought so."
A stunned Barry nods without saying a word.
"So, if you're ever in the mood for a threesome" - Kurt sees Sebastian reach into his pocket, and that's all he sees, because sometime after that, he blacks out. He doesn't pass out or fall to the ground. His brain simply shuts off so he doesn't have to witness any more – "here's my card."
"Oh," Barry repeats, taking the business card with a blank expression on his face. He looks at the card, then back at Sebastian. "I … thank you?"
Sebastian winks at Barry the way he normally winks at Kurt – more explicitly suggestive than just a cordial, run-of-the-mill wink.
"Welcome to New York, Barry Allen." Sebastian stands from his seat and pushes his chair in. "I look forward to hearing from you."
Sebastian makes his way back to Kurt's table, sashaying his hips as he walks. Kurt sees Barry crane his head to look past Sebastian right at him. Kurt has to clamp a hand on his thigh to quell his urge to get up and run.
"Sebastian!" Kurt exclaims with a whine when Sebastian returns to the table. "What have you done?"
"I think I may have opened the door to your wildest fantasy." Sebastian pulls out his wallet from his back pocket, takes out a twenty, and slides it underneath Kurt's plate. "Or mine. I haven't figured that out, yet."
Sebastian grabs his boyfriend's hand and tugs up, making it silently clear that they're leaving. Kurt, who usually doesn't stand for being bossed around, goes quietly, knowing he has no place to object at this particular moment.
"I can't come back here ever again," Kurt says, but he's not actually too upset. What Sebastian's doing right now – acting aggressive, staking his claim, showing Kurt and everyone around them that Kurt belongs with him – is Neanderthal in nature, but also one of the reasons why Kurt loves him. Sebastian's not afraid to show anyone that Kurt is his, in no uncertain terms.
"Good." Sebastian wraps his arms around Kurt. He puts both hands on Kurt's ass and squeezes hard, making as possessive a display as possible. "Then the only guy you'll want to fuck from now on who looks like me" – Sebastian leans in quickly to bite Kurt's lower lip, swallowing the way he moans – the way he always moans – "is me."
20 minutes later
"Hey, babe. How's my favorite CSI?" Arms wrap around Barry's shoulders, luring him out of his paperwork and back to the real world. He's read the same sentences over and over, but he can no longer make sense out of them, not since he met himself about half-an-hour ago. The whole incident still has him scratching his head. As soon as he gets back to the office, he's definitely running the name Sebastian Smythe through the system, though Google via his phone unearthed some interesting tidbits of information. But no need to think about that now. Barry smiles, turning around to kiss the man whose arms are wound around him, feeling at home for the first time in weeks.
"Happy to see my favorite investigative journalist again." Barry nuzzles into the man's neck, inhales the scent of his cologne. "Do not leave me alone for this long ever again." Barry shakes his head as one last image of Sebastian Smythe and his boyfriend flashes through. "My life stops making sense when you're not around."
"Uh oh." The man pulls back an inch to look into Barry's eyes. "New York not being kind to you?"
Barry gestures to the chair opposite, but the man forgoes it in favor of sitting in his boyfriend's lap, and Barry's glad. He needs this – this warm, genuine person that he loves - to hold on to.
"Carson," Barry says, looking into his boyfriend's worried blue eyes, "I have had the weirdest day."
A/N: Just for anyone who might not know, Carson is Chris Colfer's character from his book and movie Struck By Lightning. :)