A/N: Written for the Kurtbastian Hiatus Project prompt 'secrets'.
Kurt's fiancé had a double life, and Kurt didn't like it.
It started a few months ago, when Sebastian canceled their Friday afternoon lunch dates with no explanation other than, "I can't, babe. Sorry."
It ended up working out to Kurt's advantage, seeing as he was much more productive without an hour carved out of his Friday afternoon for barebacking in his office, especially since, with Sebastian, it took about that long to recover and get his life back on track.
It was when Sebastian canceled their Monday afternoon lunch dates, too, that Kurt became truly pissed.
Not too long after that, Wednesday lunch was axed as well. Kurt should have seen it coming. Even though Sebastian wasn't acting differently in any other way, this one change in their schedule, without Kurt's consent, was beginning to make Kurt worry.
Kurt suffered in silence for three weeks - three long weeks of being pushed aside and left in the dark. Whenever Kurt brought it up, Sebastian found some way to distract him, usually with the removal of clothes and his talented tongue worshipping Kurt's body in new and exciting ways…different ways…which made Kurt start to wonder.
Kurt paced his office on Tuesday afternoon, trying to figure out his next move, trying to think up a way to get Sebastian to open up to him, when his cell phone rang and a shock of cold raced through his body.
Kurt knew it was Sebastian calling, and he knew exactly what Sebastian was going to say even before he answered the phone.
"No," Kurt said, not opening with hi first.
"Why are you acting so pre-menstrual about this?" Sebastian asked in his insufferable, superior tone, as if he hadn't called Kurt up fifteen minutes before hand to drop the bomb about their canceled lunch plans.
"Don't be sexist," Kurt sneered. "And Sebastian, this means we'll only eat lunch together one afternoon during the work week." Kurt took a deep breath, trying not to whine.
"So I don't eat lunch with you," Sebastian said with a heavy sigh. "I live with you. I shower with you. I sleep with you. I think you can do without me four hours a week."
"Believe it or not, I like eating lunch with you, Bas," Kurt complained. "And by that I mean the actual eating of food, talking about our day…"
"And not the sex?"
"Of course the sex, too, you ass!" Kurt groaned.
"Look, how about I give you a bj the minute you get home to show you how sorry I am?" Kurt could hear Sebastian smile – no, smirk – and it infuriated Kurt even more. Maybe if Sebastian would tell him what was going on, the constant cancellations wouldn't be such a blow to Kurt's ego.
Kurt didn't like secrets.
He had a long history of people keeping secrets from him, and in the end, it had always turned out bad.
Sebastian never gave him a reason to worry before, but that didn't mean he didn't have a reason now.
"Why don't you save it for whatever tart you're ditching me for?"
Kurt gasped at his own comment. He didn't mean to say it. It just slipped out.
The line went so quiet that Kurt was certain Sebastian had hung up on him.
"Is that what you think's going on, princess?" Sebastian asked, his voice dropping to a low growl. "Because I don't run up to Manhattan and drop to my knees for you that I'm fucking someone else?"
Kurt hated how that sounded because it's exactly what he implied.
Kurt didn't care for the acid in Sebastian's tone.
It was the hurt he heard in Sebastian's voice, though, that stung him.
"Look, Sebastian, I…"
"Forget it," Sebastian said, and this time when the line went dead, he had hung up.
"Shitshitshitshit!" Kurt chanted, tossing his cell phone back onto his desk and dropping down onto his sofa.
Kurt buried his head in his hands and screamed.
He could really use a best friend right about now.
"I'm so sorry that happened to you," Chandler said, splitting his cronut in half and handing a piece to Kurt. "You don't really think he's cheating on you, do you?"
"No…I guess not," Kurt said, toying with the pastry in his hands, ripping it apart with his fingers. "I mean, I'm sure he isn't. It's just that…he's acting so weird, and he won't tell me what's going on…"
Kurt's phone chirped and he shoved his cronut-less hand into his pocket to get it, hoping it would be Sebastian.
Instead, it was a message from Isabelle Wright.
"Fuck!" Kurt swore, making Chandler gasp.
"Kurt, language," he chided with a playful giggle.
"I…sorry. It's just that Isabelle is calling an emergency meeting."
"Ooo, fashion emergency?" Chandler cooed.
"Something like that," Kurt replied. "But I have to get back to Vogue right now."
"Come on," Chandler said, grabbing Kurt's arm and dragging him off the sidewalk into an expanse of manicured grass, "we'll cut through the hospital parking lot and get to the subway in no time."
"Are you sure?" Kurt asked, racing to keep up, clutching on to his phone with a death grip.
"Scout's honor," Chandler called over his shoulder.
Chandler wove them through the narrow pathways that circled St. Jude's Children's Research Hospital, which he swore would spit them out closer to where Kurt's subway entrance should be, but instead they wandered into the thick of a crowd of people, all standing outside the main entrance.
"Ugh!" Kurt grumbled as he bounced into a fifth pedestrian whose attention was focused on some event or another going on in the distance. "Excuse me."
"Let's go wide," Chandler suggested, tugging Kurt down the length of the group in an effort to maneuver around the throng. They broke free of the crowd, but Kurt stopped dead, frozen in place by the appearance of a blood red Porsche with custom New York plates – a Porsche he had ridden in himself many, many times.
"What the fu-" Kurt muttered, his eyes glued to the shiny red car.
"Sorry guys!" a voice to match the car called above the crowd, "but I've got to dash!"
Kurt heard Chandler burst out in laughter, grabbing Kurt's arm and yanking him out of his stupor.
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, Kurt! Look!"
Kurt turned slowly, thinking that he knew what he would see…but he didn't. Never in a million years did the image of his fiancé dressed in a tight red Spandex superhero costume ever enter his head, but now that image was burned into his retinas as Sebastian Smythe, dressed as The Flash, handed a small girl in her pajamas and robe to an attendant of the hospital, and ran to his waiting car, waving to the crowd of cheering onlookers.
"What the hell…"
"Isn't it great?" a bubbly blonde woman next to them said to her wolf-whistling companion. "He came here one Friday and now he's here four days a week."
"So, the hospital pays him…" the wolf-whistler started.
"No," the bubbly blonde interrupted. "Not at all. He comes here on his lunch break to read to the kids. Gosh," she said with a sigh, "his wife must be one lucky woman."
Chandler looked at Kurt, but Kurt couldn't take his eyes off Sebastian. Sebastian smiled and waved in a way so unlike him. He looked adorably goofy, almost like a big kid. But then his eyes did one last sweep of the crowd. When he saw Kurt, that goofy smile dropped, then it morphed quickly into his signature smirk, and suddenly Kurt's Sebastian was back.
Kurt didn't know what to do, or what to say, but he didn't want to interrupt. This moment – whatever it was – belonged to Sebastian, and Kurt wasn't about to take it away.
So, right before Sebastian turned to duck into his car, Kurt mouthed the words, "I'm sorry."
Sebastian smiled and blew a kiss straight for him, which caused the bubbly blonde woman beside him to swoon.
Kurt stared at the Porsche as it pulled away. His phone chirped, but he was almost too star-struck to check it. It chirped again, and this time Kurt looked down at it, still clutched in his fist.
To: Kurt
From: Sebastian
Apology accepted, princess. Talk to you tonight.
Kurt turned and looked at the multitude of people gathered to see Sebastian dress up like The Flash, but most of all, he watched the kids – the ones that were able to make it to the exit to see him off, and the ones standing at the windows – who got to spend four hours a week with a favorite superhero.
Suddenly, Kurt felt like an incredible heel.
"Kurt," Chandler's worried voice pierced Kurt's thoughts. "Earth to Kurt Hummel, come in, Kurt Hummel."
"Wha-," Kurt looked at his best friend's grinning but worried face.
"Kurt, are you okay?" Chandler asked. "You went kind of space cadet on me there for a second."
"I…yeah," Kurt confirmed with a nod of his head, a smile growing on his lips. "I'm fine. I'm great, actually."
"Penny for your thoughts," Chandler pressed, shaking Kurt's arm, trying to snap him back to the present.
Kurt's smile grew wider.
"I'm thinking about what I'm going to have to do to get him to wear that costume for me."